56 THE INLAND PASSAGE. 



^ 



an hour. To be sure of our speed, I proposed to 

 make a log line. Now there is one point about Seth 

 Green, winch is if possible more decidedly developed 

 than another; while he is perfectly satisfied that 

 anything he does is better done than it ever was, 

 ever will, or ever can be, by any one else, he is 

 equally well convinced that no one else can do any- 

 thing that he cannot, so when I made this pro- 

 position he simply smiled an incredulous smile. 

 Under the force of that implication, a log line had 

 to be made, and made to work, if all hands had to 

 swear that she was making ten miles an hour when 

 she was only making two. 



It was an original species of a log. I knew the 

 proper divisions for a fourteen second glass, which 

 was the one we had on board, but the "chip" had 

 to be manufactured out of the side of an old cigar 

 box. I never shall forget Seth's air of triumph, 

 when having driven in the pin too hard, it did not 

 slip out at the scientific jerk I gave when " time " 

 was called on the first trial, the result being that 

 the line parted when I was drawing it in. This 

 merely encouraged me, as there was no difficulty in 

 curing that defect, the only danger having been 

 that my improvised "chip" would not hold well 

 enough. So the log was soon in working order, and 

 informed us that we were running nine miles an 

 hour, and repeated the figure so often, that the 

 skeptic was convinced, and asked me to join him 

 while he apologized. 



More bay snipe of all sorts, little and big, but no 



