BRANT SHOOTING. 289 



break its outline. The rest were scattered between a 

 point fifteen yards distant on the left hand of the bat- 

 tery and forty yards to the leeward. 



Leaving me in the box, the captain started back to 

 the sloop to exchange the stool boat for the sharpie, 

 as he would have to tend the battery from the shore; 

 the shoal water and the direction of the wind prevent- 

 ing the use of the sloop. After getting the sharpie 

 he rowed over to tell me that he was going to put up 

 the brant that we had seen going in to the east. 



At last then I was alone, with only the wooden de- 

 coys bobbing and moving around me. I dropped down 

 the side fender and walked around to wet down the 

 battery deck. The old gunning coat was doubled up on 

 the head board, the rubber blanket spread on the bot- 

 tom of the box, covers taken from the guns, which were 

 loaded with No. 2 and BB shot for the eight-gauge, 

 and No. 4 and No. 2 for the ten, and with the ten-gauge 

 on my right hand and the eight on my left, the muzzles 

 sticking over the foot of the box, and with the shell 

 bags between my feet, I lay down to wait for something 

 to happen. 



I wondered if the captain had started the birds yet, 

 and I rolled partly over and looked back. No ; he had 

 not gone far enough up to get on the other side of them 

 yet. So I dropped back and began to follow the course 

 of a three-masted schooner which was going west, out- 

 side the beach, under lower sails. Suddenly the air 

 back of me was filled with the sound of tearing muslin. 

 I caught up the ten-gauge and twisted around to take 



