1 64 THE STORY OF A BIRD LOVER 



the captain, Mrs. Scott, and I went ashore in a 

 small boat. 



I wish it were in my power adequately to de- 

 scribe the primitive and remote conditions of this 

 whole country. From the hour we left Gigger's 

 Island until we reached Clearwater we saw no 

 one : no man, no boat, no house, and yet we were 

 sailing all the time within a couple of miles of the 

 shore, passing what appeared to be an unbroken, 

 primeval forest, an uninhabited wilderness. 



On landing, after some inquiry at the house, 

 I found that the deacon was in his orange-grove, 

 where I proceeded to join him, leaving Mrs. 

 Scott to be entertained by Mrs. Powledge. Dr. 

 Powledge was a man at that time about seventy 

 years old. He was tall and slender, of nervous 

 build, but slow and deliberate in motion and 

 utterance. He greeted me with, " How d'ye do, 

 suh ? Air ye healthy ? " I explained to him as 

 we walked back what I wanted ; to all of which 

 he listened with apparent interest, but without 

 any comment. On entering the house, I pre- 

 sented him to Mrs. Scott, and again, " How 

 d'ye do, marm ? Air ye healthy ? " was his greet- 

 ing. I have forgotten about his inquiries as to 

 the state of the world in general ; they were not 

 many, for he was a reticent man ; and after some 

 ten or fifteen minutes chat I again asked him 

 whether he thought it would be possible to arrange 



