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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG

SHIP-BUILDERS OF ELM ISLAND ***
 TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
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The Disaster to the West Wind. Page 67.
ELM ISLAND STORIES.
 THE
YOUNG SHIP-BUILDERS
OF
ELM ISLAND.

BY

REV. ELIJAH KELLOGG,

AUTHOR OF “LION BEN OF ELM ISLAND,” “CHARLIE BELL OF ELM ISLAND,”
“THE ARK OF ELM ISLAND,” “THE BOY FARMERS OF ELM
ISLAND,” “THE HARD SCRABBLE OF
ELM ISLAND,” ETC.

BOSTON:
LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.
NEW YORK:
LEE, SHEPARD & DILLINGHAM, 49 GREENE STREET.
1871.
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by
LEE AND SHEPARD,
In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

ELECTROTYPED AT THE
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY,
19 Spring Lane.
 PREFACE.

The natural progress of this series has brought us to a period in

the history of our young friends, when, instead of labors in a
measure voluntary, pursued at home, amid home comforts, they toil
for exacting masters or the public, enter into competition with
others, feel the pressure of responsibility, learn submission, and are
tied down to rigid rules and severe tasks. The manner in which they
meet and sustain these new and trying relations shows the stuff
they are made of; that the fear of God in a young heart is a shield in
the hour of temptation, the foundation of true courage, and the
strongest incentive to manly effort; that he who does the best for his
employer does the best for himself; that the boy in whose character
are the germs of sterling worth, and a true manhood, will scorn to
lead a useless life, eat the bread he has not earned, and live upon
the bounty of parents and friends.

ELM ISLAND STORIES.

1. LION BEN OF ELM ISLAND.
2. CHARLIE BELL, THE WAIF OF ELM ISLAND.
3. THE ARK OF ELM ISLAND.
4. THE BOY FARMERS OF ELM ISLAND.
5. THE YOUNG SHIP-BUILDERS OF ELM ISLAND.
6. THE HARD-SCRABBLE OF ELM ISLAND.
 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE
I. Learning a Trade 9
II. Gunning on the Outer Reefs 21
III. Internal Improvements 37
IV. The West Wind 53
V. Haps and Mishaps 71
VI. Parson Goodhue and the Wild Gander 89
VII. Charlie gets new Ideas while in Boston 107
VIII. No give up to Charlie 120
IX. Charlie learning a new Language 133
X. Where there’s a Will there’s a Way 146
XI. Pomp’s Pond 152
XII. Charlie unconsciously prefigures the
Future 166
XIII. Better let sleeping Dogs alone 186
XIV. Victory at last 196
XV. The Surpriser surprised 207
XVI. Why Charlie didn’t want to sell the
Wings of the Morning 222
XVII. Charlie exploring the Coast 236
XVIII. Charlie becomes a Freeholder 256
XIX. Charlie in the Ship-yard 272
XX. The first Trouble and the first Prayer 289
THE YOUNG SHIP-BUILDERS
OF
ELM ISLAND.
 CHAPTER I.

LEARNING A TRADE.

The question, What shall I do in life? is, to an industrious,

ambitious boy, desirous to make the most of himself, quite a trying
one.
Thoughts of that nature were busy at the heart of John Rhines;
he now had leisure to indulge them, as, upon his return from Elm
Island, he found that the harvesting was all secured, and the winter
school not yet commenced. The whole summer had been one
continued scene of hard work and pleasurable excitement. Missing
his companions, being somewhat lonesome and at a loss what to do
with himself, he would take his gun, wander off in the woods, and
sitting down on a log, turn the matter over in his mind. At one time
he thought of going into the forest and cutting out a farm, as Ben
had done; he had often talked the matter over with Charlie, who
cherished similar ideas. Sometimes he thought of learning a trade,
but could not settle upon one that suited him, for which, he
conceived, he had a capacity. Again, he thought of being a sailor;
but he knew that both father and mother would be utterly opposed
to it. While thus debating with himself, that Providence, which we
believe has much to do with human occupations, determined the
whole matter in the easiest and most natural manner imaginable.
John Rhines, though a noble boy to work, had never manifested any
mechanical ability or inclination whatever. If he wanted anything
made, he would go over to Uncle Isaac and do some farming work
for him, while he made it for him.
 It so happened, while he was thus at leisure, that his father sent
him down to the shop of Peter Brock with a crowbar, to have it
forged over. (The readers of the previous volume well know that
Ben, when at home, had tools made on purpose for him, which
nobody else could handle.) This was Ben’s bar. Captain Rhines had
determined to make two of it, and sent it to the shop with orders to
cut it in two parts, draw them down, and steel-point them. John,
having flung down the bar and delivered the message, was going
home again, when Peter said,—
“Won’t you strike for me to draw this down? It’s a big piece of
iron. My apprentice, Sam Rounds, has gone home sick; besides,
when I weld the steel on, I must have somebody to take it out of
the fire and hold it for me, while I weld it.”
“I had rather do it than not, Peter. I want something to do, for I
feel kind of lonesome.”
Stripping off his jacket, he caught up the big sledge, and soon
rendered his friend efficient aid.
“There’s not another boy in town could swing that sledge,” said
Peter. “Do you ever expect to be as stout as Ben?”
“I don’t know; I should like to be.”
“Are you done on the island?”
“Yes.”
“They say you three boys did a great summer’s work.”
“We did the best we could.”
“I know that most of the people thought it wasn’t a very good
calculation in your brother Ben to go off and leave three boys to plan
for themselves, and that there wouldn’t be much done—at any rate
that’s the way I heard them talk while they were having their horses
shod.”
“That was just what made us work. If a man hires me, and then
goes hiding behind the fences, and smelling round, to see whether I
am at work or not, I don’t think much of him; but if he trusts me,
puts confidence in me, won’t I work for that man! Yes, harder than I
would for myself. But what did they say when they came home from
husking?”
“O, the boot was on the other leg then; there never was such
crops of corn and potatoes raised in this town before on the same
ground. Has your father got his harvest in?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ve got a lot of axes to make for the logging swamp; my
apprentice has got a fever; I must have some one to strike; I tried
for Joe Griffin, but he’s going into the woods, and Henry too; why
can’t you help me?”
“I don’t know how.”
“All I want of you is to blow and strike; you will soon learn to
strike fair; you are certainly strong enough.”
“Reckon I am. I can lift your load, and you on top of it.”
“Well, then, why can’t you help me? I’m sure I don’t know what I
shall do.”
“If father is willing, I’ll help you till school begins.”
The result was, that John, in a short time, evinced, not only a
great fondness, but also a remarkable capacity for the work, made
flounder and eel-spears, clam-forks, and mended all his father’s
broken hay-forks and other tools.
John worked with Peter till school began. The day before going
to school, he went to see Charlie, as passing to and from the island
in winter was so difficult they seldom met.
To the great surprise of Charlie, Ben, and Sally, who never knew
John to be guilty of making anything, he presented Charlie with two
iron anchors for the Sea-foam, with iron stocks and rings complete,
and Ben with an eel-spear and clam-fork, very neatly made.
“What neat little things they are!” said Charlie, looking at the
anchors. “Where did you get them?”
“Made them,” replied John, “at Peter’s shop.”
“Why, John,” said Ben, “you’ve broken out in a bran-new place!”
 John then told him that he had been at work in the blacksmith’s
shop, how well he liked it, and that, after school was out, he meant
to ask his father to let him learn the trade.
“John,” said Ben, “Uncle Isaac, Joe Griffin, and myself have been
talking this two years about going outside gunning. If I go, I want to
go before the menhaden are all gone; for we shall want bait, in
order that we may fish as well as gun. It is late now, and the first
north-easter will drive the menhaden all out of the bay.”
“I heard him and Joe talking about it the other day; they said
they calculated to go.”
“Well, tell them I’m ready at any time, and to come on, whenever
they think it is suitable.”
John and Charlie went to the shore to sail the Sea-foam,—a boat,
three feet long, rigged into a schooner,—and try the new anchors.
While they were looking at her, Charlie fell into a reverie.
“Didn’t she go across quick, that time, Charlie?”
No reply.
“Charlie, didn’t she steer herself well then?”
Still no answer.
“What are you thinking about, Charlie?”
“You see what a good wind she holds, John?”
“Yes.”
“And how well she works, just like any vessel?”
“Well, then, what is the reason we couldn’t dig out a boat big
enough to sail in, and model her just like that? These canoes are not
much better than hog’s troughs.”
“It would take an everlasting great log to have any room inside,
except right in the middle.”
“We could dig her out very thin, and make her long enough to
make up for the sharp ends.”
“It would be a great idea. I should like dearly to try it.”
The boys now went to bed and talked boat till they worked
themselves into a complete fever, and were fully determined to
realize this novel idea; for, as is generally the case in such matters,
the more they deliberated upon and took counsel about it, the more
feasible it seemed; then they considered and magnified the
astonishment of Fred and Captain Rhines when they should sail over
in their new craft, and finally settled down into the belief that, if they
realized their idea, it would not fall one whit short of the conception
and construction of the Ark herself.
But the main difficulty—and it was one that seemed to threaten
failure to the whole matter—was, where to obtain a log, as one of
sufficient size for that purpose would make a mast for a ship of the
line, and was too valuable, even in those days, to cut for a plaything,
as it was by no means certain that she would ever be anything
more: there were indeed trees enough, with short butts, large
enough for their purpose, had they wanted to make a common float,
or a canoe, with round ends, like a common tray; but, as they were
to sharpen up the ends vessel fashion, give her quite a sharp floor,
and take so much from the outside in order to shape her, it was
necessary that the tree should be long, as well as large, to be
recompensed by length for the room thus taken from the inside, and
leave sufficient thickness of wood to hold together.
While Charlie was debating in his own mind whether to ask his
father to permit him to cut such a tree, John, with a flash of
recollection that sent the words from his lips with the velocity of a
shell from a mortar, exclaimed, jumping up on end in bed,—
“I have it now! there’s a log been lying all summer in our cove,
that came there in the last freshet, with no mark on it, more than
thirty feet long, and I know it’s more’n five feet through: it’s a
bouncer, I tell you; but it’s hollow at the butt, and I suppose that’s
what they condemned it for; but I don’t believe the hollow runs in
far. It’s mine, for I picked it up and fastened it.”
“But you are going to school. You can’t help me make it; and we
should have such a good time. It is too bad!”
“Well, I can do this much towards it. I don’t care a great deal
about going to school the first day; they won’t do much. I’ll help you
tow it over, and haul it up; and if you don’t get it done before, when
school is done, I’ll come on, help you make sugar, and finish the
boat.”
“Then I won’t do any more than to dig some of it out. I won’t
make the outside till you come.”
In the morning they went over to look at it, and found the hollow
only extended about four feet. It was afloat and fastened with a
rope, just as John had secured it in the spring. They towed it home
without attracting notice, as they considered it very important to
keep the matter secret till the craft was completed.
“Then,” said Charlie, “if we should spoil the log, and don’t make a
boat, there will be nobody to laugh at us.”
Putting down skids, they hauled it up on to the grass ground with
the oxen, and, with a cross-cut saw, made it the right length. As all
above the middle of the log had to be cut away, and was of no use
to them, it was evident, that if they could split it in halves, the other
half would make a canoe, clapboards, or shingles.
“This is a beautiful log,” said Charlie. “It is too bad to cut half of
it into chips. It is straight-grained and clear of knots; we will split it.”
“Split it!” said John; “‘twould take a week!”
“No, it won’t. We can split it with powder.”
“I never thought of that.”
They bored holes in the log at intervals of three feet, filled them
part full of powder, and drove in a plug with a score cut in the side
of it. Into this they poured powder, to communicate with that in the
hole. They then laid a train, and touched them all at once, when the
log flew apart in an instant, splitting as straight as the two halves of
an acorn.
“I’ll take the half you don’t want, boys,” said Ben, who,
unnoticed, had watched their proceedings; “it will make splendid
clapboards.”
During the winter, on half holidays, and at every leisure moment,
John Rhines was to be found at the blacksmith’s shop. At length he
could contain himself no longer, but went to his father and asked
permission to learn the blacksmith’s trade of Peter. John anticipated
a hard struggle in obtaining his father’s consent, if indeed he
obtained it at all, as there was a large farm to take care of, plenty to
do at home, and enough to do with. But Captain Rhines, who had
always said, if a boy would only work steadily, his own inclinations
should be consulted in choice of occupation, was so rejoiced to find
he didn’t want to go to sea, of which he had always been
apprehensive, that he yielded the point at once.
“It is a good trade, John,” said he, “and always will be; but I
wouldn’t think of learning a trade of Peter.”
“Why not, father?”
“Because he’s no workman; he’s just a botcher.”
“Who shall I learn of?”
“I’ll tell you, my son; go to Portland and learn to do ship-work;
there’s money in that; ship-building is going to be the great business
along shore for many a year to come. You’ll make more money
forging fishermen’s anchors, or doing the iron-work of a vessel, in
one season, than you would mending carts, shoeing old horses and
oxen, making axes, pitchforks, and chains in three years. My old
friend, Captain Starrett, has a brother who is a capital workman, a
finished mechanic, learned his trade in the old country—and his wife
is a first-rate woman; she went from this town. I’ll get you a chance
there.”
Captain Rhines went to Portland in the course of the winter, and
secured an opportunity for John to begin to work the first of May.
 CHAPTER II.

GUNNING ON THE OUTER REEFS.

Ben thought it was now a favorable time to do something to the

house, and made up his mind to speak to Uncle Isaac and Sam
when they came on for their gunning excursion, in order to obtain
the aid of one to do the joiner, and the other the mason work, for he
and Charlie could do the outside work. While preparing the cargo of
the Ark, Ben had laid by, from time to time, such handsome, clear
boards and plank as he came across, which were now thoroughly
seasoned, having been kept in the chamber of the house. He also
had on hand shingles and clapboards.
They now began to remove the hemlock bark from the roof, and
replace it with shingles. To work with tools, to make something for
his father and mother, was ever a favorite employment of Charlie.
Aside from this, his great delight was to make boats; his house
under the big maple was half full of boats, of all sizes, from three
inches to two feet long. As he sat by the fire in the evenings, he was
almost always whittling out a boat. When he went to Boston, in the
Perseverance, he sought the ship-yards and boat-builders’ shops. He
had a boat on each corner of the barn, one on the top of the big
pine, and one on the maple, besides having made any number for
John, Fred, and little Bob Smullen.
 He was now greatly exercised in spirit in respect to the boat he
was to make from the big log. He had resolved to make a model,
and then imitate it, and was racking his brain in respect to the
proportions; for he was very anxious she should be a good sailer.
He had not a moment to spare while they were shingling the
house, it being necessary to do it quickly, for fear of rain; but the
moment the roof was completed, he hid himself in the woods, and
with blocks set to work upon the model.
While thus busied, he recollected having heard Captain Rhines
say, that if anybody could model a vessel like a fish, it would sail fast
enough. He thought a mackerel was the fastest fish within his reach.
“There are mackerel most always round the wash rocks,” said he.
“I’ll model her after a mackerel.”
The next morning, just before sunrise, he was off the reef, in the
“Twilight,” and succeeded in catching three mackerel and some rock-
fish. Not wishing any spectators of his proceedings, he hid the
biggest mackerel in some water, to keep him plump, took the others,
and went in to breakfast. He next took some of the blue clay from
the bed of the brook, that was entirely free from stones and grit,
and would not dull a razor; and, mixing it with water and sand, till it
was of the right consistence, put it into a trough. Into this paste he
carefully pressed the fish; then he took up the trough, and, finding a
secret place at the shore, where the sun would come with full power,
he placed it on the rocks, and sifted sand an inch thick over the clay
and fish, and left it to harden.
In the course of three days, he found the fish had putrefied, and
the clay gradually hardened under the sand without breaking. He
now swept off the sand, exposing it to the full force of the sun till it
was completely dry; then he made a slow fire, and put the trough
and clay into it, increasing the heat gradually till he burned the
trough away, and left the clay with the exact impress of the
mackerel in it, as red and hard as a brick.
“There’s the shape of the mackerel, anyhow,” said Charlie,
contemplating his work with great satisfaction; “but how I’m going
to get a model from it is the question; however, there is time enough
to think of that between this and spring.”
He deposited his model in his house under the great maple, and
devoted all his time to helping his father improve the appearance of
the house.
Our readers will recollect that the logs, of which the house was
built, were hewed square at the corners and windows; so Ben and
Charlie just built a staging, and, stretching a chalk line, hewed the
whole broadside from the ridge-pole to the sill square with the
corners. They accomplished this quite easily at the ends, but on the
front and back it was more difficult to hew the top log under the
eaves; but they worked it out with the adze.
Originally the house had but two windows on a side, and, as
these were on the corners to admit of putting in others, it looked
queer enough. They now cut out places for two more in a side, and
intended, after having smoothed the walls, to clapboard them; but
their work was interrupted for the time by the arrival of Uncle Isaac,
Joe Griffin, Uncle Sam, and Captain Rhines, to go on the long-talked-
of gunning excursion.
“I don’t see,” said Uncle Isaac, “how you do so much work; I
think it is wonderful, the amount you and this boy have done since
we were here.”
“There’s one thing you don’t consider,” said Ben: “a person here
is not hindered; there’s not some one running in and out all the
time, and he is not stopping to look at people that go along the
road; he’s not plagued with other people’s cattle, and don’t have to
fence against them; he’s not out evenings visiting, but goes to bed
when he has done work, and the next morning he feels keen to go
to work again. It’s my opinion, if a man is contented, he will stand
his work better, live longer, and be happier, on one of these islands
than anywhere else.”
As they were to start at twelve o’clock at night, they went to bed
at dark. Captain Rhines slept on board the vessel, as he could wake
at any hour he chose. He was to call the others if the weather was
good; if not, they were to wait for another chance. It was bright
moonlight; a little wind, north-west, just enough to carry them
along, and perfectly smooth. The place to which they were bound
was an outlying rock in the open ocean, more than seven miles
beyond the farthest land, upon which, even in calm weather, the
ground swell of the ocean broke in sheets of white foam, and with a
roar like thunder; but when a strong northerly wind had been
blowing for a day or two, it drove back the ground swell, and when
the northerly wind in its turn died away, there would be a few hours,
and sometimes a day or two, of calm, when there was not the least
motion, and you might land on the rock; but it was a delicate and
dangerous proceeding, requiring great watchfulness, for although
there might be no wind at the spot, yet the wind blowing at sea,
miles distant, might in a few moments send in the ground swell and
cut off all hope of escape. As the north wind made no ground swell,
the rock could be approached on the south side, even when a
moderate north wind was blowing.
They were familiar with all these facts, and had accordingly
chosen the last of a norther, that had been blowing two days, and
was dying away.
Some hours before day they arrived at the place—a large barren
rock, containing about three acres, with a little patch of grass on the
highest part of it, and a spring of pure water, that spouted up from
the crevices in the rock; a quantity of wild pea vines and bayberry
bushes were growing there, among which, in little hollows in the
rock, the sea-gulls laid their eggs, without any attempt at a nest.
As they neared the rock, they sailed through whole flocks of sea-
birds; some of them, asleep on the water, with their heads beneath
their wings, took no notice of them; others, as they heard the slight
ripple made by the vessel’s bows, flew or swam to a short distance,
and then remained quiet.
Not a word was spoken save in whisper, when, at a short
distance outside the rock, the sails were gently lowered, and the
anchor silently dropped without a splash to the bottom. The
“decoys,” that is, wooden blocks made and painted in imitation of
sea-birds, and the guns, were put into the canoe, and landing in a
little cove, they gently hauled the canoe upon the sea-weed, and
anchored their decoys with lines and stones a little way from the
rock, so as to present the appearance of a flock of sea-fowl feeding,
and, lying down, awaited daybreak.
The sea-fowl lie outside during the night, but as the day breaks
they begin to fly into the bay after food and water, and when they
see the decoys, they light down among them and are shot; they are
also shot on the wing as they fly over; and in those days they were
very numerous among all the rocks and islands.
It was a terribly wild and desolate place; the tide at half ebb
revealed the rock in its full proportions; on the shore side it ran out
into long, broken points, ragged and worn, with innumerable holes
and fissures, fringed with kelp, whose dark-red leaves, matted with
green, lay upon the surface of the water; while on the ocean side,
the long, upright cliffs dropped plump into the sea, and were
covered with a peculiar kind of sea-weed, short, because, worn by
the ceaseless action of the waves, it had no time to grow: all
impressed the mind with a singular feeling of loneliness and
desolation.
These hardy men, born among the surf, and by no means given
to sentiment, could not repress a feeling of awe, as they lay there
silent, and listened to the roar of the sea, that rolled in eddies of
white foam among the ragged points, being raised by the north
wind, while on the other side there was not a motion.
There is something in the hoarse roar of the surf, when heard in
the dead hours of night on such a spot, that is more than sublime—
it is cruel, relentless. As we listen to it in such a place, from which
there is more than a possibility that we may not escape, we realize
how impotent is the strength or skill of man against the terrific rush
of waters. We call to mind how many death-cries that sullen roar has
drowned, how many mighty ships that gray foam has ground to
powder, and look narrowly to see if the giant that thus moans in his
slumbers is not about to rouse himself for our destruction. Yet to
strong natures there is an indescribable charm that clings to places
and perils like these, and does not fade away with the occasion, but
lives in the memory ever after. These men could have shot sea-fowl
enough near home, without fatigue or peril; but that very safety
would have diminished the pleasure.
It was evident that thoughts similar to those we have described
were passing through Ben’s mind.
He said, in a whisper, “Uncle Isaac, do you suppose the sea ever
breaks over here?”
“I suppose it does,” was the reply; “but only when a very high
tide and a gale of wind come together. Old Mr. Sam Edwards came
on here once in November, and his canoe broke her painter and got
away from him, and he had to stay ten days, when a vessel took him
off; but they had a desperate time to get him; and when they got
him he couldn’t speak. He piled up a great heap of rocks to stand
upon, to make signals to vessels, and to keep the wind off; and
when he went on the next spring they were gone.”
“But there is white clover growing here, and red-top, which
shows that the salt water cannot come very often, nor stay very long
when it does come.”
It was now getting towards day; they had three guns apiece,
which they loaded, and placed within reach of their hands. As the
day broke, the birds began to come, first scattering, then in flocks;
as they came on, they continued to fire as fast as they could load,
the birds falling by dozens into the water, until the birds were done
flying, the sun being well up.
They now took the canoe and picked up the dead and wounded
birds, many of the latter requiring a second shot, then going on
board the schooner with their booty, got their breakfast, after which
they ran off ten miles to sea, on to a shoal, to try for codfish; and as
they had menhaden and herring for bait, they caught them in plenty.
“Halloo!” said Ben; “I’ve got a halibut; stand by, father, with the
gaff.”
They caught three more in the course of the forenoon. After
dinner they split and salted their fish, and cutting out the nape and
fins of the halibut, threw all the rest away, as in those days they did
not think it worth saving.
“Now,” said Uncle Isaac, “what do you think of having a night at
the hake?”
They ran into muddy bottom near to the rock, anchored, and lay
down to sleep till dark, and then began to catch hake. The hake is a
fish that feeds on the muddy bottom, and bites best in the night.
Just before day they went on to the rock again, and shot more
birds than before. Uncle Isaac and the others were so much
engrossed with their sport, that they thought of nothing else. But
Ben, who was naturally vigilant, and had noticed that there was a
little air of wind to the south, and the sea had a different motion,
kept his eye upon it, and shoved the canoe to the edge of the water.
All at once he exclaimed, in startling tones,—
“To the boat! The sea is coming!”
They seized their guns, and sprang into the canoe.
“I’ll shove off,” said Ben.
Uncle Isaac and Captain Rhines took the oars, while Uncle Sam,
on his knees, was ready to bale out what water might come in.
The great black wave could now be seen rolling up higher and
higher as it came. Ben, giving the canoe a vigorous shove, which
sent her some yards from the rock, leaped in, and grasped the
steering paddle, keeping her directly on to meet the threatening
wave. As she met it and rose upon it, she stood almost upright; and
for a moment it seemed as if she would fall back and be dashed on
the rock; but the powerful strokes of the resolute oarsmen, added to
the momentum she had already attained, forced her up the ascent,
and they were safe. Had they been twice her length nearer the rock,
they had been lost, as the sea, arrested in its progress by the rock,
“combed” (curled over), when nothing could have saved them.
“A miss is as good as a mile,” said the captain, as he looked back
and saw the spot where they had so lately stood white with foam.
“I’ve left my best powder-horn,” said Ben.
 “We’ve left a couple dozen of birds,” said Uncle Isaac; “but we’ve
enough without them.”
They now dressed the fish they had caught, went to sleep, and
slept till noon; then, as they had a fair wind home, debated, while
sitting in the little cabin, what they should do more.
“We have some bait left,” said Uncle Isaac; “we ought to do
something more.”
“Hark!” cried the captain, whose ear had caught a familiar sound;
“mackerel, as I am a sinner!”
Rushing on deck, they saw mackerel all around the vessel,
leaping from the water, their white bellies glancing in the sun. In a
moment lines were thrown over with bait, and soon numbers of
them were flapping on the deck.
It was now near sundown, the wind began to blow in fitful gusts,
and once in a while, amid the constant dash of waves, a great sea
would come and break with a roar far above the general dash of
waters. But they were too eager in the pursuit of their prize to heed
the weather.
At length a few drops of rain falling on the captain’s bare arms
caused him to look up and around.
He instantly exclaimed,—
“Haul in your lines; we must be out of this; we are full near
enough to these breakers to have them under our lee, and night
coming on.”
It was a most perilous position to the eye of a landsman, and not
without risk to them. The vessel was rolling heavily at her anchor
less than a quarter of a mile from the rock, and abreast of the
middle and highest part of it, while its long, shoal points stretched
out each way for more than a mile, white with foam; the whole
ground also, for three or four miles around the rock, was full of shoal
spots and sunken reefs, which made a bad, irregular sea; and the
roar from so many breakers was terrible. But if there is anything that
will do its duty in a heavy head-beat sea, it is an old-fashioned
pinkie.
 As the little craft, gathering way, came up to the wind, the sea
poured in floods over her bows, while, with whole sail and her lee
rail under water, she jumped through it, and gradually drew off from
the dangerous reefs.
Leaving the long reefs to the leeward, they now kept away
before it with a fair wind for home. Taking in all but the foresail, they
went along under moderate sail, that they might split their fish as
they went, and before dark.
When they reached the island, it was quite dusk. The sea was
pouring in sheets of foam upon the rocks, and the white froth,
drifting to leeward, had filled the main channel; so that to enter it
seemed, to an inexperienced eye, to be rushing into the very jaws of
destruction; but, as they dashed along by the very edge of the surf
that fringed the “Junk of Pork,” just when the little vessel, rising on
the crest of a tremendous wave, seemed to be rushing directly on
the rocks, Ben, who stood at the fore-sheet, hauled it aft, the
captain put down his helm, and the vessel, luffing up, shot through
the froth and around the point into the quiet harbor in front of the
house. Uncle Isaac let go the anchor, and in a moment she was
peacefully riding where there was not a ripple, with the roar of surf
all around her, and bunches of white froth drifting lazily alongside.
It is these strong contrasts which make the charm of life along
shore, and that so attach rugged spirits to the sea; and though
those who live among these scenes do not talk about them as others
do, who seldom witness them, yet they feel them, and they are a
part of their life. Taking out the birds and guns, they put them into
the canoe to take on shore. Charlie met them there, and was dumb
with astonishment at the sight of so many birds.
They were wet, tired, cold, and hungry, for they had been fishing
day and night; but as they entered the house, all was changed. A
blazing fire was roaring in the great chimney, and flinging its
cheerful light on the bright pewter on the dressers and snow-white
floor.
The table stood in the floor, covered with smoking victuals, and
Sally, with her handsome face shining with joy, stood ready to greet
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