Samblich smiled at my want of experience, and maintained stoutly that I would have use for them.

"You must use them with discretion," he said; "that is to say, don't step on them yourself." With this remote hint about the use of the tacks I got on all right, and saw the way to maintain clear decks at night without the care of watching.
[Illustration: The man who wouldn't ship without another "mon and a doog."] Samblich was greatly interested in my voyage, and after giving me the tacks he put on board bags of biscuits and a large quantity of smoked venison.

He declared that my bread, which was ordinary sea-biscuits and easily broken, was not nutritious as his, which was so hard that I could break it only with a stout blow from a maul.

Then he gave me, from his own sloop, a compass which was certainly better than mine, and offered to unbend her mainsail for me if I would accept it Last of all, this large-hearted man brought out a bottle of Fuegian gold-dust from a place where it had been _cached_ and begged me to help myself from it, for use farther along on the voyage.

But I felt sure of success without this draft on a friend, and I was right.