160 FLEET OF INDIAN CANOES. 
from a secure hiding-place, and the wheezy bang 
proclaims ‘ alk’s safe.’ 
The report was still echoing through the 
distant hills, when countless tiny specks were 
discernible, dancing over the waves like birds. 
On they came, a perfect shoal of them, nearer 
and nearer, all evidently bound for the ship. I 
could make out clearly now, that these specks 
were canoes filled with Indians. By this time 
our boat was lowered; how I got into it, I never 
clearly remember: I have a dim recoilection of 
descending a rope with great rapidity, and 
finding myself sprawlmg in the bottom, and 
being dragged up by the captain, much after 
the fashion adopted by clowns in a pantomime to 
reinstate the prostrate pantaloon upon his legs. 
At any rate I was safe, and the boat, propelled 
by four sturdy rowers, neared the shore. 
On looking round, I observed the canoes had 
all turned towards us, and we were soon sur- 
rounded by the most extraordinary fleet I had 
ever beheld. ‘The canoes were of all sizes, vary- 
ing from those used for war purposes, hold- 
ing thirty men, to the cockleshell paddled by a 
squaw. With the exception of a bit of skin, or 
an old blanket tied round the waist, the savages 
were all perfectly nude; their long black hair 
hung in tangled elf-locks down their backs, their 
