166 WHA T I HAVE SEEN WHILE FISHING 



are in his, and, like him, I can only scratch my 

 head and say, " There are no words for it." 



At last came the horse-race. Of course, there 

 was no professional betting, but I found that the 

 dwarf was again easy favourite. I supported the 

 adventurous sailor on the chance of his proving 

 a good dark horse. The course was to the flag- 

 staff, round and back. There was no starting- 

 gate, but the M.C., chief officer on the Arran- 

 more naval station, soon had them going, and at 

 once my navy blue shot ahead. But, alas ! his 

 steering became faulty, and, after going too much 

 inland, he came round in front of his competitors 

 with a list seawards and his craft was soon fetlock 

 deep in water, which she scattered in the most 

 playful manner until she espied one of the long 

 succession of graceful foam-capped curves that 

 was running in on the shelving sand, and then 

 she stopped suddenly. This unseated Jack, who 

 not altogether ungracefully fell over the horse's 

 neck, slid down its forelegs, and sat in the surf. 

 The handy man was not long taking his bearings, 

 and when he discovered his horse was just where 

 he had left it, as calmly waiting his pleasure as 

 if it had been a drink he had got down for, he 

 remounted and was just in time for a fine race 

 with the returning dwarf for the winning-post. 

 Jack's explanation to his questioning companions, 

 given without a moment's hesitation, was, " Sure, 

 and it was my backwash I was for giving them." 



