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thirty fathom we'll
turn in like little men. Counahan is the b'y,' sez he. 'Counahan
the Navigator!'

"Nex' cast they got ninety. Sez Counahan: 'Either the lead-line's
tuk too stretchin' or else the Bank's sunk.'

"They hauled ut up, bein' just about in that state when ut seemed
right an' reasonable, and sat down on the deck countin' the knots,
an' gettin' her snarled up hijjus. The Manila she'd struck her
gait, and she hild ut, an' prisintly along come a tramp, an'
Counahan spoke her.

"'Hey ye seen any fishin'-boats now?' sez he, quite casual.

"'There's lashin's av them off the Irish coast,' sez the tramp.

"Aah! go shake yerself,' sez Counahan. 'Fwhat have I to do wid the
Irish coast?'

"'Then fwhat are ye doin' here?' sez the tramp.

"'Sufferin' Christianity!' sez Counahan (he always said that whin
his pumps sucked an' he was not feelin' good) - 'Sufferin'
Christianity!' he sez, 'where am I at?'
"'Thirty-five mile west-sou'west o' Cape Clear,' sez the tramp,
'if that's any consolation to you.'

"Counahan fetched wan jump, four feet sivin inches, measured by
the cook.

"'Consolation!' sez he, bould ez brass. 'D'ye take me fer a
dialect? Thirty-five mile from Cape Clear, an' fourteen days from
Boston Light. Sufferin' Christianity, 'tis a record, an' by the
same token I've a mother to Skibbereen!' Think av ut! The gall av
um! But ye see he could niver keep things sep'rate.

"The crew was mostly Cork an' Kerry men, barrin' one Marylander
that wanted to go back, but they called him a mutineer, an' they
ran the ould Manila into Skibbereen, an' they had an illigant time
visitin' around with frinds on the ould sod fer a week. Thin they
wint back, an' it cost 'em two an' thirty days to beat to the
Banks again. 'Twas gettin' on towards fall, and grub was low, so
Counahan ran her back to Boston, wid no more bones to ut."

"And what did the firm say?" Harvey demanded.

"Fwhat could they'? The fish was on the Banks, an' Counahan was at
T-wharf talkin' av his record trip east! They tuk their
satisfaction out av that, an' ut all came av not keepin' the crew
and the rum sep'rate in the first place; an' confusin' Skibbereen
wid 'Queereau, in the second. Counahan the Navigator, rest his
sowl! He was an imprompju citizen!

"Once I was in the Lucy Holmes," said Manuel, in his gentle voice.
"They not want any of her feesh in Gloucester. Eh, wha-at? Give us
no price. So we go across the water, and think to sell to some
Fayal man. Then it blow fresh, and we cannot see well. Eh, wha-at?
Then it blow some more fresh, and we go down below and drive very
fast - no one know where. By-and-by we see a land, and it get some
hot. Then come two, three nigger in a brick. Eh, wha-at? We ask
where we are, and they say - now, what you all think?"

"Grand Canary," said Disko, after a moment. Manuel shook his head,
smiling.

"Blanco," said Tom Platt.

"No. Worse than that.

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