_Kaye--kaye--kaye!_ screamed the birds, for there were sea-gulls even here, playing at tack and half-tack around and over the quarterdeck, darting through the fountainheads of wind-vexed seas, circling, swirling, swishing in every beautiful attitude conceivable--_kaye--kaye--kaye_! Oh, how happy, how glorious, those feathered children of the ocean! Lotty just longed to catch one, tie a message to its leg, kiss it, and tell it to fly home with this to the little gipsy camp by the lone seashore. Up and down, fore and aft, the two walked together, and the girl thought she could never tire listening to the mate's strange stories of the sea, while he was quite as pleased to have so innocent and sweet a listener. So a whole hour passed quickly by, and then something happened. A full-rigged ship was seen bearing towards them from afar, very close-hauled and with snow-white sails. 'A Yankee from Bergen, I'll lay my last sixpence on that. I'll try to speak her if she crosses our hawse, and tell her you are safe.--Ben!' he shouted. 'Ben, my boy, look lifty.' 'Ay, ay, sir.' 'Bring my megaphone.[D] Sharp's the word, lad; quick's the action.' Next minute Ben had hurried aft, and presented his superior officer with a large tea-tray and a lump of chalk. 'A very old-fashioned arrangement,' he said, 'but does well enough for us.' In huge letters on the back of his 'megaphone,' as he grandly termed it, he hastily wrote: 'TIMBER-SHIP _Nor'lan' Star_--CAPT. PATERSON. 'CHILD GIRL PICKED UP AT SEA, WHICH HER NAME IS LOTTY LEE. 'REPORT TO LLOYDS.' Then he took his stand on the grating right abaft the wheel, and held the tea-tray aloft. With her cloud of snowy canvas on came the Yankee. Then, as she was passing, a real megaphone roared out the words: 'The _Louisiana_ of Baltimore, U.S.A., bearing up for London, England, _en route_ for the States. What is that?' continued the awful voice. 'Hold your bally old tea-tray higher. Captain Peters, eh? Little girl born at sea. All right, I'll report it. Hope mother and daughter are doing well. Love to the missus. Good-bye, old grampus; _bon voyage_.' Next minute the _Louisiana_ was past and away, and the mate dashed the tea-tray on the deck with a rattle and a word that made Lotty jump. 'Hang the fellow!' he cried; 'he couldn't read plain English, and now he's off, and may all the bad weather go with him, for he'll report that Mrs Paterson---- Ha, ha, ha!' He laughed louder than the west wind as he jumped down. 'Never mind. Come along, Lotty, and we'll have another stroll. Merrily does at sea, little lass. With a he! and a ho! How the wild winds blow, As we go rolling home, brave boys, As we goes a-rolling home!' The gale moderated considerably in the first dog-watch, and the sea became smoother. Reefs were shaken out, and as the sun set red in the nor'-west a heavenly starlit night succeeded the stormy day.