CHAPTER XXII. 



Ninth, Florida Episode: Death of a Pirate. 



j]N the calm of a fine moonlight night, as I was 

 admiring the beauty of the clear heavens, and 

 the broad glare of light that glanced from the 

 trembling surface of the waters around, the officer on 

 watch came up and entered into conversation with me. 

 He had been a turtler in other years, and a great hunter 

 to boot, and although of humble birth and pretensions, 

 energy and talent, aided by education, had raised him to 

 a higher station. Such a man could not fail to be an 

 agreeable companion, and we talked on various subjects, 

 principally, you may be sure, birds and other natural pro- 

 ductions. He told me he once had a disagreeable ad- 

 venture when looking for game, in a certain cove on the 

 shores of the Gulf of Mexico ; and on my expressing 

 a desire to hear it, he willingly related to me the follow- 

 ing particulars, which I give you, not perhaps precisely in 

 his own words, but as nearly as I can remember. 



" Towards evening, one quiet summer day, I chanced 

 to be paddling along a sandy shore, which I thought well 

 fitted for my repose, being covered with tall grass, and as 

 the sun was not many degrees above the horizon, I felt 

 anxious to pitch my mosquito bar or net, and spend the 

 night in this wilderness. The bellowing notes of thous- 

 ands of bull-frogs in a neighboring swamp might lull me 

 to rest, and I looked upon the flocks of black-birds that 

 were assembling as sure companions in this secluded re- 

 treat 



