The kulu in question was more a coquette than a shrew. She plainly showed that she was fond of flattery; not perhaps in the same sense that a human being is, but she was certainly conscious of approbation and fond of applause. When she accomplished anything difficult, she seemed aware of it; and when she succeeded in doing a thing which she ought not to do, she never failed to express herself in the manner described above. She always appeared to be perfectly conscious of being observed by others, but she was defiant and composed. There is nothing known in the catalogue of mischief that she was not ready to tackle at any moment and take her chances on the result. From the stokehole to the funnel, from the jack-staff to the rudder, she explored that boat. To keep her out of mischief, she was tied on the saloon deck with a long line; but no one aboard the vessel was able to tie a knot in the line which she could not untie with dexterity and ease. Her master, who was a sailor and an expert in the art of tying knots, exhausted his efforts in trying to make one that would defy her skill. On one occasion I was aboard the little steamer when the culprit was brought up from the main deck, where she had been in some mischief, and was tied to one of the rails along the side of the boat. The question of tying her was discussed, and at length a new plan was devised. In the act of untying a knot she always began with the part of the knot that was nearest to her. It was now agreed to tie the line around one of the rails on the side of the deck, about halfway between the two stanchions that supported it, then to carry the loose ends of the line to the stanchion, and make them fast in the angle of the stanchion and the rail. As soon as she was left alone she began to examine the knots. She made no attempt at first to untie them, but she felt them, as if to see how firmly they were made. She then climbed upon the iron rail around which the middle of the line was tied and slackened the knot. She pulled first at one strand and then at the other; but one end was tied to the stanchion and the other to her neck, and she could find no loose end to draw through. First one way and then the other she drew this noose. She saw that in some way it was connected with the stanchion. She drew the noose along the rail until it was near the post; she climbed down upon the deck, then around the post and back again; she climbed up over the rails and down on the outside, and again carefully examined the knot; she climbed back, then through between the rails and back, then under the rails and back, but she could find no way to get this first knot out of the line. For a moment she sat down on the deck and viewed the situation with evident concern. She slowly rose to her feet and again examined the knot; she moved the noose back to its place in the middle of the rail, climbed up by it, and again drew it out as far as the strands would allow. Again she closed it;