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Bird -Lore 



of a daring, voung lobster fisherman, strong, hardy and experienced, who had 

 weathered the storms of twenty-four hard northern winters, and who volunteered 

 to take us, as soon as a favorable opportunity arrived. After days of fog, rain, 

 storms and gales, all too frequent on that coast, the looked-for opportunity came 

 when a light westerly wind had smoothed down the sea after an easterly blow, 

 and we started in his seaworthy little boat, seventeen feet long, carrying two 

 small sprit-sails. Though we could plainly see Bird Rock, twenty-five miles 

 away, a red spot on the northern horizon, prudence suggested that we sail first 

 to Bryon Island, only twelve miles away, where we could find a safe harbor, 

 in case of necessitv, and push on to Bird Rock the next day, if conditions were 



favorable. But we were persuaded to change our minds by the " King of Bryon 

 Island," a venerable patriarch, the owner of the island, and a veritable monarch 

 of all he surveys, for he controls the most valuable lobster-fishing rights of that 

 region, as well as the destinies of the fishermen; he would like to have kept us 

 over night, with a view to interesting capitalists from the states in the purchase 

 of his profitable estates, but with true regard for our interests he advised our 

 pushing on that night, as he thought it would blow a gale in the morning, and 

 experience proved that he was right. So, laying in a stock of bread and a few 

 bottles of water, we started at 5:30 that night for the last leg of our journey. 

 It was well that the sea was smooth, for to land on that rugged Rock is bad enough 

 at anv time, and when there is any sea running it is impossible. 



It seemed a long twelve miles as we plied the oars to help us along in the 



