ARRANGEMENTS quite extensive had been made for the celebration of Christmas on the yacht Samoset. Not having been in any civilized port for months, the stock of provisions boasted few delicacies; yet Minnie Duncan had managed to devise real feasts for cabin and forecastle.
The Samoset, with fore- and main-sail winged out on either side, was slipping a lazy four-knots through the smooth sea.
The Samoset had been a trading schooner, when Duncan bought her in San Francisco and made alterations.
The stars overhead vanished, and the Samoset swung four points off her course in the careless steersman's hands.
Duncan pulled shut the cover of the companion scuttle, and held on, waiting, the first drops of rain pelting his face, while the Samoset leaped violently ahead, at the same time heeling first to starboard then to port as the gusty pressures caught her winged-out sails.
The Samoset rolled and righted on a sea, and in the light breeze her canvas gave forth a hollow thrum.
As they lifted on the smooth crest of a wave, Duncan turned to look where the Samoset made a vague blur in the darkness.
Again they lifted on a wave, and again and again, ere they could make out the distant green of the Samoset's starboard light.
He followed her gaze, and saw the Samoset, flag at half mast, rounding up and dropping anchor scarcely a hundred yards away.