WILD LIFE ACROSS THE WORLD 



all deck and hold. The only protection against falling 

 into the water was a rail about a foot high. Of 

 accommodation for a passenger there was none. She 

 was for penguins' eggs, not passengers. 



In the skipper's cabin was a bunk about a foot 

 wide, of the size and shape of a coffin, and placed 

 by the side of the paraffin engine. The hatchway 

 leading down from the deck to the engine house cabin 

 was just wide enough for me to squeeze through. 



I reached the boat at eleven o'clock on a very dark 

 night. She was to sail at twelve. The stiff wind that 

 had been hard at it for a whole week keeping the 

 Barr acuta fast to her moorings was still blowing. 

 Whether the skipper thought a landsman would bring 

 him luck or not I do not know — the beUefs of seamen 

 are odd and wonderful ! — but he determined that 

 this night he would make an attempt to reach Penguin 

 Island. 



He very kindly put at my disposal his coffin-like 

 bunk, and I tried to get some sleep, but no sooner 

 did the Barr acuta get out than she began to turn and 

 pitch about as if she had no rudder. The paraffin 

 engine chugged hard, but we made little headway ; 

 we kept turning round as if the old boat didn't like 

 the job, and wanted to get back home. For two hours 

 she turned her nose shoreward, then seaward, as if 

 not certain which way she was to go, while thunder 

 and lightning played skittles with our nerves, and 



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