TALES OF FISHES 



Strange to relate, as I was conversing on the dock 

 with a ship captain and the agent of the Ward hne, 

 lamenting the necessity of saUiag for Alacranes 

 alone, some one near by spoke up, "Take me!" 



In surprise I wheeled to see my English acquaint- 

 ance who had visited the interior of Yucatan with 

 me. I greeted him, thanked him, but of course did 

 not take him seriously, and I proceeded to expound 

 the nature of my venture. To my further surprise, 

 he not only wanted to go, but he was enthusiastic. 



"But it's a hard, wild trip," I protested. "Why, 

 that crew of barefooted, red-shirted Canary-Islanders 

 have got me scared! Besides, you don't know me!" 



"Well, you don't know me, either," he replied, 

 with his winning smile. 



Then I awoke to my own obtuseness and to the 

 fact that here was a real man, in spite of the signif- 

 icance of a crest upon his linen. 



"If you'll take a chance on me I'U certainly take 

 one on you," I replied, and told him who I was, and 

 that the Ward-line agent and American consul 

 would vouch for me. 



He offered his hand with the simple reply, "My 

 name is C ," 



If before I had imagined he was somebody, I now 

 knew it. And that was how I met the kindest man, 

 the finest philosopher, the most unselfish comrade, 

 the greatest example and influence that it has ever 

 been my good fortune to know upon my trips by 

 land or sea. I learned this during our wonderful 

 trip to the Island of the Dead. He never thought 

 of himself. Hardship to him was nothing. He had 

 no fear of the sea, nor of men, nor of death. It 



10 



