Never had the little rocking ‘We’re Here’ looked so deliciously home-like as when the cook, born and bred in fogs, rowed them back to her.  There was a warm glow of light from the cabin and a satisfying smell of food forward, and it was heavenly to hear Disko and the others, all quite alive and solid, leaning over the rail and promising them a first-class pounding.  But the cook was a black; master of strategy.  He did not get the dories aboard till he had given the more striking points of the tale, explaining as he backed and bumped round the counter how Harvey was the mascot to destroy any possible bad luck.  So the boys came override as rather uncanny heroes, and every one asked them questions instead of pounding them for making trouble.  Little Penn delivered quite a speech on the folly of superstitions; but public opinion was against him and in favour of Long Jack, who told the most excruciating ghost-stories, till nearly midnight.  Under that influence no one except Salters and Penn said anything about “idolatry,” when the cook put a lighted candle, a cake of flour and water, and a pinch of salt on a shingle, and floated them out astern to keep the Frenchman quiet in case he was still restless.  Dan lit the candle because he had bought the belt, and the cook grunted and muttered charms as long as he could see the ducking point of flame.

Said Harvey to Dan, as they turned in after watch: 

“How about progress and Catholic superstitions?”

“Huh!  I guess I’m as enlightened and progressive as the next man, but when it comes to a dead St. Malo deck-hand scarin’ a couple o’ pore boys stiff fer the sake of a thirty-cent knife, why, then, the cook can take hold fer all o’ me.  I mistrust furriners, livin’ or dead.”

Next morning all, except the cook, were rather ashamed of the ceremonies, and went to work double tides, speaking gruffly to one another.

The ‘We’re Here’ was racing neck and neck for her last few loads against the Parry Norman; and so close was the struggle that the Fleet took side and betted tobacco.  All hands worked at the lines or dressing-down till they fell asleep where they stood—­beginning before dawn and ending when it was too dark to see.  They even used the cook as pitcher, and turned Harvey into the hold to pass salt, while Dan helped to dress down.  Luckily a Parry Norman man sprained his ankle falling down the foc’sle, and the ‘We’re Heres’ gained.  Harvey could not see how one more fish could be crammed into her, but Disko and Tom Platt stowed and stowed, and planked the mass down with big stones from the ballast, and there was always “jest another day’s work.”  Disko did not tell them when all the salt was wetted.  He rolled to the lazarette aft the cabin and began hauling out the big mainsail.  This was at ten in the morning.  The riding-sail was down and the main- and topsail were up by noon, and dories came alongside with letters for home, envying their good fortune.  At last she cleared decks, hoisted