AUDUBON AND BOONE. 149 
he had to spear them, fearing that “the gentleman” might at 
one dart cut off his legs, or some other nice. bit, with which 
he was unwilling to part. 
Having filled our cask from a fine well long since dug in 
the sand of Cape Sable, either by Seminole Indians or pirates, 
no matter which, we left Sandy Isle about full tide, and pro- 
ceeded homewards, giving a call here and there at different 
keys, with the view of procuring rare birds, and also their 
nests and eggs. We had twenty miles to go “as the birds 
fly,” but the tortuosity of the channels rendered our course 
fully a third longer. The sun was descending fast, when a 
black cloud suddenly obscured the majestic orb. Our sails 
swelled by a breeze that was scarcely felt by us, and the 
pilot, requesting us to sit on the weather gunwale, told us 
that we were “going to get it.” One sail was hauled in and 
secured, and the other was reefed, although the wind had not 
increased. A low murmuring noise was heard, and across 
the cloud that now rolled along in tumultuous masses, shot 
vivid flashes of lightning. Our experienced guide steered 
directly across a flat towards the nearest land. ‘The sailors 
passed their quids from one cheek to the other, and our pilot 
having covered himself with his oil-jacket, we followed his 
example. ‘Blow, sweet breeze,” cried he at the tiller, and 
“we'll reach land before the blast overtakes us, for, gantle- 
men, it is a furious cloud yon.” 
A furious cloud indeed was the one which now, like an eagle 
on outstretched wings, approached so swiftly, that one might 
have deemed it in haste to destroy us. We were not more 
than a cable’s length from the shore, when, with imperative 
voice, the pilot calmly said to us, “Sit quite still, gentlemen, 
for I should not like to lose you overboard just now; the boat 
can’t upset, my word for that, if you will but sit still—here 
we have it!” 
Reader, persons who have never witnessed a hurricane, 
such as not unfrequently desolates the sultry climates of the 
