headed straight for her destination. It was a pleasant voyage,
devoid of incident, and the health of all hands was excellent.
Mr. Gibney took daily observations, and was particular to make
daily entries in his log when he, Scraggs, and McGuffey were not
playing cribbage, a game of which all three were passionately
fond.

On the afternoon of the twenty-ninth day after leaving Panama the
lookout reported land. Through his glasses Mr. Gibney made out a
cluster of tall palms at the southerly end of the island, and as
the schooner held lazily on her course he could discern the
white breakers foaming over the reefs that guarded the entrance
to the harbour.

"That's Kandavu, all right," announced the commodore. "I was
there in '89 with Bull McGinty in the schooner _Dashin' Wave_.
There's the entrance to the harbour, with the Esk reefs to the
north and the Pearl reefs to the south. The channel's very
narrow--not more than three cables, if it's that, but there's
plenty of water and a good muddy bottom that'll hold. McGuffey,
lad, better run below and tune up your engines. It's too
dangerous a passage on an ebb-tide for a sailin' vessel, so we'll
run in under the power. Scraggsy, stand by and when I give the
word have your crew shorten sail."

Within a few minutes a long white streak opened up in the wake of
the schooner, announcing that McGuffey's engines were doing duty,
and a nice breeze springing up two points aft the beam, the
_Maggie_ heeled over and fairly flew through the water. Mr.
Gibney smiled an ecstatic smile as he took the wheel and guided