IN AUDUBON'S LABRADOR 



sheets which seem scarcely to fall on sea or 

 land ; I can hardly call it rain, it is rather a mass 

 of water, so thick that all objects at any dis- 

 tance from us are lost to sight every three or 

 four minutes, and the waters come up and beat 

 about us in our rock-bound harbor as a newly 

 caged bird does against its imprisoning walls. 

 The Great Black-backed Gull alone* is seen 

 floating through the storm, screaming loudly 

 and mournfully as it seeks its prey; not an- 

 other bird is to be seen abroad." 



It was a wild lullaby that night. The rain 

 dashed in sheets against our little craft, which 

 rolled and pitched and tugged desperately at 

 her rattling chains. The wind howled through 

 the rigging as gust after gust tore by. The 

 halyards slatted against the masts in a loud 

 rub-a-dub-dub, and the roar of the surf on the 

 rocks and the hissing of the rain on the waves 

 formed a continuous undertone. I turned into 

 my bunk in the cabin early, having perfect 

 confidence in the captain and in the fact that 

 we had two anchors out in five fathoms of 

 water on a sand and clay bottom. I slept 

 through it all, perhaps for the same reason 

 that the assistant of the Bishop of Newfound- 



94 



