wly to and fro against the tide.

"Hard a-port!" ordered Falland, who was conning the ship.

"Hard a-starboard!" contradicted the Commander excitedly. "What are
you thinking about, Mr. Falland?"

The Navigator's order would have taken the ship well clear, but the
helmsman, perplexed by having two diametrically opposite commands
hurled at his head simultaneously, and not knowing which to obey, did
nothing.

There came a howl from the gunboat's forecastle and a frantic,
blasphemous yelling from a party of Chinamen clustered on the junk's
high poop.

"Full speed astern!" roared Potvin.

But it was too late, for a moment afterwards the _Puffin's_ flying
jib-boom slid neatly through the very centre of the matting sail on the
junk's mizzen mast. More shrill cursing and strident execration from
the junk, followed by a series of bumps and crashes as the two vessels
collided, bow to stern. A large pig, suspended, according to the
pleasant habit of the Chinese, in a wicker-work basket over the junk's
quarter, also two similar baskets filled with fowls, became detached
from their moorings and fell overboard. Then the junk's mizzen-mast
began to bend ominously, and before long, amidst more shrieks and
yells, it snapped off short and collapsed on the poop, knocking one
elderly Chinaman and two children into the water as it fell. It was
followed almost immediately afterwards by the _Puffin's_ flying
jib-boom.

The gunboat's engines were stopped and the two vessels drifted together
side by side, while a party with axes set to work to clear away the
wreckage.

"Why on earth don't you look where you're going?" the Commander bawled
at the junkmaster.

"Yah me ping wi taow!" howled the Chinaman, which, being interpreted,
means, "You tailless son of a devil," the greatest possible insult.

It was followed by more mutual abuse and recrimination, but the
gentleman in the junk, since Commander Potvin could not understand a
word he said, was popularly supposed to have got the best of the wordy
encounter.

But the skipper was quite determined to have somebody's blood, and
seeing he could make no impression on the junk, vented his spleen on
the Navigator.

"Mr. Falland!" he exclaimed, his eyes flashing and his heart full of
rage. "The collision was entirely your fault. I shall report the
matter to the Admiral, and meanwhile you will remain in your cabin
under arrest!"

"But, sir. I really----"

"I require no explanat