THIRD AMERICAN TOUR 159 



It is now four weeks since a razor came in contact with my 

 chin. All my companions are equally hircine ; or, if you please, 

 hirsute. As to our clothing, were you to see us at this moment, 

 you would be ready to exclaim, "What vagabonds these fellows 

 are !" Coats and trousers plastered with mire, shirts no longer 

 white, guns exhibiting the appearance of being in constant use, 

 and all sorts of accoutrements that pertain to determined 

 hunters, complete our tout ensemble. But, as I have said, here 

 we are, and on shore must go. "Man the gig," quoth our cap- 

 tain. In a trice the gig is manned. One after another, for 

 there are five or six of us, we swing ourselves into the after- 

 sheets. The word is given, the oars are plied, and now we are 

 once more on terra firma. 



The crossing of large bays, cumbered with shallow bars and 

 banks of oyster-shells, is always to me extremely disagreeable, 

 and more especially when all these bars and banks do not con- 

 tain a single living specimen of that most delectable shell-fish. 

 Nay, I am assured by our pilot, who is no youngster, that ever 

 since he first visited this extensive waste, not an oyster has been 

 procured in these parts. But now, in single file, like culprits or 

 hungry travellers, we proceed along the margin of the canal. 

 Ah, my dear friend, would that you were here just now to see 

 the Snipes innumerable, the Blackbirds, the Gallinules, and the 

 Curlews that surround us ; — that you could listen as I now do, 

 to the delightful notes of the Mocking-bird, pouring forth his 

 soul in melody as the glorious orb of day is fast descending 

 towards the western horizon; — that you could watch the light 

 gambols of the Night Hawk, or gaze on the Great Herons 

 which, after spreading their broad wings, croak aloud as if 

 doubtful regarding the purpose of our visit to these shores ! 

 Ah ! how well do I know you would enjoy all this ; but, alas ! we 

 are more than four thousand miles apart. 



Hark ! what's that ? Nothing but a parcel of men coming 

 to greet us. Here they are, seven or eight Negroes. Who lives 

 here my good fellows? Major Gordy, massa. Well, now show 

 us the way to the house. Yes, gentlemen, come along. So we 

 follow our swarthy guides. 



