A great number of fisher-birds were about this day, which was one of the pleasantest on God's earth.

The _Spray_, dancing over the waves, entered Albany Pass as the sun drew low in the west over the hills of Australia.
At 7:30 P.M.the _Spray_, now through the pass, came to anchor in a cove in the mainland, near a pearl-fisherman, called the _Tarawa_, which was at anchor, her captain from the deck of his vessel directing me to a berth.

This done, he at once came on board to clasp hands.

The _Tarawa_ was a Californian, and Captain Jones, her master, was an American.
On the following morning Captain Jones brought on board two pairs of exquisite pearl shells, the most perfect ones I ever saw.

They were probably the best he had, for Jones was the heart-yarn of a sailor.