94 A YEAR WITH A WHALER 



The populace had turned out royally in my 

 honor and I passed through a lane of brown 

 humanity that bent round eyes upon me and 

 chortled and spluttered Kanaka and seemed to 

 get a huge amount of enjoyment out of my cap- 

 ture. As my captors paraded me onto the pier, 

 who should be there waiting for me but Captain 

 Shorey, our new skipper, just arrived from San 

 Francisco by steamer. He stood with feet wide 

 apart and arms folded on his breast and looked 

 at me steadily with stern, cold eyes. In my wet 

 clothes I cut a sorry figure. I felt ashamed of 

 myself and realized that this introduction to my 

 new captain was not all it should have been. 

 Captain Winchester had nothing to say to Rich- 

 ard and me on the long pull back to the brig. 

 Once aboard, he drew a pint of Jamaica rum 

 from his pocket and gave every man of the boat's 

 crew, except us, a swig. But no penalty of any 

 sort was imposed upon us for our escapade. 

 This surprised us. 



