1830.J Newfoundland Adventure*. 639 



proceedings through the medium of their stomachs. Cab6t sat beside 

 his master, took politely whatever was given him, and behaved himself, 

 as Simon would say, " very like a Christian." 



By the time breakfast was ended, we had doubled the little cape, and 

 then ran alongside a low beach for some time till we found a favourable 

 spot to land at. We jumped ashore, and ascended the most elevated 

 rock contiguous ; but the telescope could show us nothing of the human 

 race : so we continued our course along the shore, as near as we safely 

 could venture, till we reached the southern extremity of the bay where 

 it receives the River of Exploits j occasionally turning into little creeks 

 and coves of still water, where we could land without risk, and get a view 

 inland. But as yet no natives appeared. 



A sail-boat is a fine place for listening to stories. You have no row- 

 ing to tire you ; sailors have always something strange to tell, and you 

 may believe as much as you please. Wrapped up in your cloak, the 

 breeze in your ear only makes you arrange it more comfortably to catch 

 the long " yarn" as it comes spinning out amidst spray and sail-flap, 

 creaking of the astonished mast, and rattling of rival ropes. 



( ' This is a strange mainsail of yours," said I j ' ' how came the pic- 

 ture of this great fish on it ? What claw-like fins ! and what a set of 

 teeth ! Which of your sea-devils is it?" 



" That's a grampus," replied the old man, "the whale's greatest 

 enemy. One of these fellows (with sometimes the help of a thresher, 

 or a sword-fish, or a sea-unicorn,) will drive a poor whale ashore in shal- 

 low water, kill him, and eat him after. They 're all great poachers and 

 injure the whale-fishing very much. Yet they 're sociable animals in 

 their own way, not very unlike the white wolves, in their mode of life, 

 that I have seen in a long string like a crescent on the plains of Labrador, 

 chasing an elk in the midst of them over a precipice, and then quietly 

 descending to pick his bones together. I'll tell you how the fish came 

 to be painted there. 



" When I was mate of a Nantucket whaler, and we were running 

 south heavy laden from Hudson's Bay, an ugly wind from sou'-sou'-west 

 ahead blew us back as we were entering the straits of Belle-isle, and 

 sent us coasting round Newfoundland through the fogs. We doubled 

 Cape Bauld by close shaving, then stood well out from the shore till the 

 storm abated, and just passed Toulinguet, when the wind died away, and 

 the fog came down on us like a casting net. There we were for three 

 days, that we never saw the sun, yawing about, till the tide carried us 

 one night right on a sharp ledge of sunken rocks. Then (when the 

 mischief was done) a gale set in at sunrise from the north, the fog was 

 cleared up like a mainsail in a squall, and we found our stout ship break- 

 ing her back on the ledge as the tide fell, within a bow shot of Round 

 Head, the northern point of the isle of Fogo. What was to be done ? 

 The gale was increasing ; the breakers boiled furiously about us, and 

 the surf on the shore would swamp a life-boat. It had been a spring- 

 tide, d'ye see ; the vessel now lay high on the ledge : every wave Tan up' 

 the rock like a wild bull, tossing up the stern, and letting it fall again. 

 The thumps she gave as the keel struck the bottom were felt like the 

 shocks of an earthquake in the Mississipi ! We all expected by full ebb 

 that the good ship Grampus would be in shivers, with all of us afloat, to 

 be dashed on the Round Head among our barrels of blubber ! 



" A crowd of people on the island had assembled at the mouth of a 



