102 A YEAR WITH A WHALER 



hear the soft crash of the combers on the coral 

 beaches of those enchanted shores. It all looked 

 like paradise and I had missed it by half a mile. 



\\Tien I reached the brig, Mr. Landers per- 

 mitted me to put on dry clothing and then put 

 me in irons, as the sea phrase is. This consisted 

 in fastening my hands together in front of me 

 with a pair of steel handcuffs of the ordinary 

 kind used by sheriffs and policemen everywhere. 

 Then he made me sit on the main hatch until 

 Captain Winchester came back from Honolulu, 

 along toward sundowTi. 



''What's the matter with that man?" roared 

 the captain as he swung over the rail and his eyes 

 lighted on me. 



''He jumped overboard and tried to swim 

 ashore," said Mr. Landers in his nasal Cape Cod 

 drawl. 



" ^yhy didn't you get my rifle and shoot him? " 

 thundered the captain. 



"Well," returned Mr. Landers, "I don't 

 shoot folks." 



xVfter supper the captain stuck his head out 

 of the cabin gangway. 



