Our own whistle was blowing hoarsely, and from time to time the sound of other whistles came to us from out of the fog.
"That's a ferry-boat of some sort," the new-comer said, indicating a whistle off to the right.

"And there! D'ye hear that?
Blown by mouth.
Some scow schooner, most likely.

Better watch out, Mr.Schooner-man.
Ah, I thought so.

Now hell's a poppin' for somebody!" The unseen ferry-boat was blowing blast after blast, and the mouth-blown horn was tooting in terror-stricken fashion.
"And now they're payin' their respects to each other and tryin' to get clear," the red-faced man went on, as the hurried whistling ceased.
His face was shining, his eyes flashing with excitement as he translated into articulate language the speech of the horns and sirens.

"That's a steam-siren a-goin' it over there to the left.