AMONG THE WaTER-FowL 
The day was unpromising; clouds were threat- 
ening, a fog-bank hung off at sea, and the wind, 
strong from the south-east, covered the ocean 
expanse with white-caps. About ten o’clock, when 
we had given up hope of starting that flee the 
schooner was sighted off to the westward. In half 
an hour she had rounded the point and ‘hove to” 
off the beach. As no boat put off from her, we 
got two French fishermen to launch their seine- 
boat and set us aboard. It was no easy matter, but 
finally we got out through the breakers without a 
wetting, and managed to tumble up on the plung- 
ing vessel. 
Following along shore, for an hour or so, the 
strong wind bore us opposite East Point, when, turn- 
ing our backs upon the grim expanse of sand that 
has received so many human corpses from the deep, 
we sped out into the unknown toward the invisible 
rock that lay sixteen miles to the north. Soon we 
approached the off-lying tog-bank, and the “ gray 
walls”? shut in. thick aad chill around us. The 
vessel was now rolling and plunging into the trough 
of the following seas in the most approved fashion. 
After two hours or more the captain thought that 
we must be getting near to the Rock. More and 
more birds came in sight, and we strained our ears 
for the clamour of the colony and the roaring of 
the surf. At length, anxious lest we should run too 
close upon the Rock in the fog, the captain crawled 
out and stood upon the end of the bowsprit, plung- 
ing almost into the sea. Suddenly, now, the tog 
began to lift—a sign of land. Soon we could see 
the blue overhead, and then, just as our look-out 
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