to have kept her distance from us, that is if we really are on her track."

Yes, sir," answered Halford, "We surely ought to have 'over-hauled' her by this time. I suppose you will keep on, sir?"

"Oh, certainly!" answered the commander, "We will keep on, but I hope we shall see our prize before this evening. However, carry on, carry on! It will be a great satisfaction when we catch her."

wild

Amongst both officers and men the grumblers became loud in their denunciations of such a goose chase went like a creature of life, at full speed.

as they called it. But on the vessel

The Gunner, when drilling an extra-drill party at two of the great guns, was very cross with certain individuals in the party, letting off the steam of his wrath upon them when certain mistakes were made. All hands began to fear they were engaged in a huge mistake. The rope-maker and his assistants were busy with their machine on the upper deck, and even that rattle sounded out irritably. The officer of the watch paced up and down the bridge, looking very glum.

The time for evening quarters arrived, and that routine and muster was gone through, all looking so grave and serious, not a ghost of a smile visible anywhere. The ship's company had for one pet a small black goat, full of fun and frolic. At quarters she ran a steeplechase over the great guns, but not one man laughed or said a word of approval on this particular evening. The order was usually given as a conclusion of the day, "Hands to dance and skylark." But such an idea seemed mockery on this evening of

Monday, for all hands were beginning to feel disheartened, and gloomy. The men, as usual, were "piped to supper," the hammocks were "piped down," men solemnly puffed their tobacco pipes, and smoked furiously, yet seemed to find little satisfaction in so doing; but about eight o'clock the whole ship's company were electrified into prompt action by the cry, "Man overboard."

This cry was repeated over and over again by excited voices along the upper deck, and, down below to the lower deck through the men's quarters, and officers' quarters, aft to the captain's cabin, and down to the cockpit and storerooms. All hands rushed very eagerly on deck to assist in "heaving to" the ship, and also picking up the man if possible; but all hearts were heavy with apprehension, for it was night time and dark. The ship was going at great speed, and the pitiable condition of a man left behind in the great waste of waters was realized by all as they hurried, and crowded, and tumbled over each other from the lower to the upper deck. The half of the ship's company who were on "watch," and on duty upon the upper deck all did the right thing immediately-thanks to the good order and discipline, also the continual drill in every conceivable manœuvre which is the peculiarity, more or less, of every British warship. Each man on board H.M.S. Cobra knew what he had to do, and did it.

The officer of the watch, on duty, walking the bridge of the ship, with a startled stop in his motion backwards and forwards, from side to side of the ship, first heard a faint cry, right "fo'rad," then the boatswain's mate roared like a lion the dreaded cry,

"Man overboard.

Away, the lifeboat's crew.”

The officer of the watch sharply took it up, and shouted, "Man overboard! Marine, let go the lifebuoy."

This warship, like all others in the British Royal Navy, carried a "life-buoy" at the stern. It was a large framework of iron, with two huge hollow airtight balls of iron having great floating capacity, and an upright iron post which would hold high above the water a box of iron filled with a gunner's slow fire, fitted with fuze, very inflammable, which would blaze away in all weather above the waves.

Relieving each other by day and night one marine soldier is always on sentry upon the life-buoy part of the stern of the ship, ready to "let go " when ordered. There are two handles. By day only one is pulled, which allows the huge life-buoy machine to drop from the ship's stern into the water.

But on this occasion, being night, the marine did his full duty, and, when ordered "Let go—Marine, let go the life-buoy!" the marine soldier pulled first one handle, which "fired" a fuze; then he pulled the other handle, the life-buoy was let go, and in the water it was rapidly left behind, showing an intensely bright beacon-light, which blazed furiously, reflected in the dark waters around it. This takes some time to describe, but the marine was about three seconds doing his duty-whilst, in fact, the officer of the watch rushed to the engine-room telegraph, and signalled "Stop," and the propeller almost immedi ately ceased to revolve. The officer then directed his attention to the "sail trimmers," the "main yards were braced round and thrown “aback,” and the ship was speedily "hove to."

The boat known as "lifeboat," the "lee cutter," had been promptly "manned" by the boat's crew, who are always in readiness, and as soon as the ship's "way" commenced to grow less, the boat was lowered near the water, then by a "slip tackle" in the boat, which was pulled by the "coxswain," the "clip-hooks" were opened, when the boat, released from the hoisting and lowering "falls" at the bow and stern, dropped into the water, the crew in the boat all ready, even whilst the vessel had some "headway" through the sea.

The boat "sheered off," the boat's crew tossed out their ten oars, and pulled back as hard as they could to the life-buoy, which was blazing like a beaconlight about half a mile astern. This was all done in a little less than five minutes.

As the boat pulled away from the shelter of the "lee" side of the warship she faced the full force of the breeze, and large curling Atlantic billows, with white crests of foam, called "sea-horses." On board they had not seemed so boisterous as they were now felt to be by those in the boat, which was pulled by ten oars, and therefore was a "cutter of reasonable size for sea work.

They mounted the billows, and descended into the watery valleys between; their ship loomed up high, and apparently quite gigantic in size, behind them; but the gaze of the coxswain was concentrated upon the light upon the life-buoy. Tossed cork-like, from wave to wave, bursting the white crests-sometimes aside, and often high in the air and over themselves -on the seamen tugged at their oars, and puiled hard, to save life. Yet in vain. The life-buoy was

without human life clinging to it. In solitary loneliness they found the useful frame, with huge floating air-tight balls: above, high up on the iron post, the box of gunner's fire blazed furiously and brightly, casting a weird glare upon the faces of the seamen in the "cutter." Their hurried and muscular efforts were all in vain, their shipmate was nowhere to be seen. In dismal silence they rested on their oars, and looked and looked again.

"coxswain "

The great, strong, broad-chested stood up; the little middy of more tender years, but not more tender heart, stood up also, and they peered always into the darkness: they also listened. Then they shouted—“ Shipmate Ahoy!" Again and again they shouted and hailed-"Shipmate Ahoy!” But no welcome answer was heard, no other human voice responded to theirs. They listened intently, but heard only the wailing of the wind, and the boisterous curling "sea-horses."

"Swallowed up now," one "sea-horse" seemed to say. "Gone below," said another. "No, gone aloft,

to join Tom Bowline," said a third.

The winds and the waves talk to true sailors. Real seamen can hear them speak, or, they fancy that they do; and fancy goes a long way-we all know that.

66

"Oh! how cruel," said the young 'middy,' the officer in charge of the boat. He had a name of endearment-"Tips." This name had been given to him by the men of the great warship Cobra, because he was always giving one and another man something. He was fresh out of H.M.S. Britannia, the cadet training ship, when he joined the Cobra. He was curious and inquisitive, always learning;