474 



Porpoise - Shooting. 



"No chance swamp 'im; I watch canoe so close, you see, water 

 can't come 'board 'tall." 



I began to think that our situation very much resembled that of 

 the old Indian who, for lack of a sail, put up a big bush in the bow of 

 his canoe ; — all went well with him until the wind increased to a gale 

 and he could not get forward to reef his bush. So he sat like a statue, 

 steering with his paddle, and repeating, in a mournful monotone : 



"Too much bush, too much bush, for little canoe." 



With this in my mind, I said to Sebatis : 



CAPE BLOMIDON, BAY OF FUNDY. 



" Don't you think that we are carrying too much sail ? A heavy 

 squall might upset us." 



"Well, you see," he replied, "no chance reef 'im now, wind so 

 heavy ; but I take care, got sheet in my hand, s'pose squall, then I 

 let go pretty quick." 



He had the sheet in his hand, as he said, and was steering with 

 the paddle in the other, whale-boat fashion. So I took heart of 

 grace and troubled myself no more about the matter. 



"You hear 'im wolves?" said Sebatis, pointing to a low-lying 

 group of rocky islands that have crushed many a noble ship with 

 their ugly fangs; "make good deal noise" (alluding to the surf); 

 "wind shift now — fair all way Indian Beach." 



