172 A YEAR WITH A WHALER 



nie came in direct from San Francisco soon af- 

 ter we arrived. Boats from the whale ships 

 swarmed about her as soon as she dropped an- 

 chor, eager for letters and newspapers. Our 

 mate brought back a big bundle of San Fran- 

 cisco newspapers which were sent forward after 

 the cabin had read them. They gave us our 

 first news since leaving Honolulu of how the 

 great world was wagging. Every man in the 

 forecastle who could read read these papers 

 from the first headline to the last advertisement. 

 It seemed good to get into touch once more with 

 the men and events of civilization. Exiles of 

 the sea, the news of our country seemed to have 

 an intimate personal meaning to us which it 

 never could possibly have to stay-at-homes to 

 whom newspapers are every-day, casual budgets 

 of gossip and information. I remember that a 

 telegraphic brevity describing a murder in my 

 native state seemed like a message from home. 



Among the Eskimos who came aboard the 

 brig from the large village on shore, was a white 

 man dressed like an Eskimo to the last detail 

 and looking like one except for a heavy beard. 



