AMERICAN HARBOR, OR NATASHQUAN 



and I suspect that he wrote the poem after a 

 trip in the Natashquan. It was an open secret 

 that parts of her engine were wired together, 

 that her iron shell was so old and weak that 

 cement had been poured in to strengthen her 

 feeble frame, and that insurance companies 

 had long refused to carry her on their books. 

 On the latter account, if for no other reason, 

 Captain Boucher navigated with great cau- 

 tion, avoided the paths of other steamers, and, 

 in thick weather, anchored at night. In low- 

 lying fogs by day he himself climbed to the 

 masthead and eagerly peered over the mists. 

 I retain a vivid picture of the little captain 

 in carpet-slippers holding to the rigging with 

 one hand, a chart in the other, while he de- 

 livered from time to time his clear-cut orders 

 in French. 



On the Natashquan one could forage in the 

 pantry and always find hot cafS-au-lait ; but I 

 especially enjoyed a luxury which was shared 

 by only one other passenger, a pet beaver. 

 This was a bathtub from whose tap flowed 

 only the cold salt water of the Gulf. Each of 

 us took a plunge in it daily and we never had 

 to wait for any one else. 



67 



