42 WILD SPORTS OF THE WEST. 



on the * tra-buoy,' and his winter near Carrig-a- 

 boddagh." 



" How has he escaped so long, John ? Has he not 

 been often fired at? " 



" A thousand times ; the best marksmen in the 

 country have tried him without success. People say 

 that, like the master otter ^ he has a charmed life ; and 

 latterly nobody meddles with him." 



Old John's narrative was interrupted by the entrance 

 of another personage ; he was a stout, burly-looking 

 man, with indifferent good features, a figure of uncommon 

 strength, and a complexion of the deepest bronze. He 

 is the skipper of my cousin's hooker. After a career 

 of perilous adventure in piloting the Flushing smugglers 

 to the coast, he has abandoned his dangerous trade, to 

 pass an honester and safer life in future. 

 " Well, Pattigo,* what news ? " 



" The night looks dirty enough, sir ; shall we run 

 the hooker round to Tallaghon, and get the rowing- 

 boats drawn up ? " His master assented, and ordered 

 him the customary glass of poteen. Pattigo received 

 it graciously in the fingers of his right hand — for he has 

 lost his thumb by the bursting of a blunderbuss in one 

 of his skirmishes with the Revenue — made his ship-shape 

 bow, clapped his sou'-wester on, and vanished. 



The storm came on apace ; large and heavy drops 

 struck heavily against the windows ; the blast moaned 

 round the house ; I heard the boats' keels grate upon 

 the gravel as the fishermen hauled them up the beach ; 

 I saw Pattigo slip his moorings, and, under the skirt of 

 his main-sail, run for a safer anchorage. The rain now 

 fell in torrents ; the sea rose, and broke upon the rocks 

 * A by-name. 



