476 



Porpoise - Shooting. 



On viewing our prospect for landing, I must confess to more 

 anxiety than I had hitherto experienced. True, we were out of the 

 wind, but the night was shutting down apace, and a transient gleam 

 from the storm-rent clouds disclosed the sea rolling in on the beach 

 in such a manner as to make our landing, in the treacherous light of 

 the departing day, a dangerous one. 



SEBATIS BEACHING THE CANOE. 



"Now, then," exclaimed Sebatis, " s'pose you jump overboard, 

 and run right up the beach, when I give the word. I'll beach the 

 canoe all 'lone myself." 



He was paddling with might and main, and we were successfully 

 riding the waves within one hundred yards of the beach. 



" Now then, jump quick, and run !" he cried, as a receding wave 

 left us in a swashing undertow. 



I was overboard in an instant, and struggled out of the reach of 

 the sea. After holding the canoe steady while I jumped, Sebatis 

 followed, and, partly dragging and partly carrying the canoe, 

 beached her high and dry. 



We were now on Indian Beach, where the Indians camp for the 

 summer and autumn porpoise-shooting. The beach extends for 

 about half a mile, between two projecting headlands, and the camps, 



