Dec 2^, igooj 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
491 
pot, I used to be glad when the girl would go on the 
launch, for then we'd go for a sail, but I soon found this 
was no fun, for the skipper would be so melancholy he 
wouldn't pay me any attention, and would often lay me to 
and stretch out in the cockpit and smoke and sigh like a 
rising wind. 
"One hot night there was a dance at the club house, and 
after a while my master came down on the wharf with the 
girl, r tried to hear what they said to find out what she 
Iiad done to make him so different, but they talked so 
low I could only catch a word now and then. He was 
very close to her, and he seemed unusually nervous and 
queer. Then, as if in answer to something he'd asked, I 
heard her say something like 'I didn't suppose you cared 
so much.' He straightened ttp without another word and 
they both got up and started for the club house. But 
just then the launch owner joined them, saying to the 
girl, ''I've been looking all over for you. My dance, I 
believe.' 
" 'So it is,' she answered. 'It was so hot we came down, 
here for a minute and must have stayed longer than I 
thought.' 
"She went back to the club house with him, and my 
master stood still with his hands clinched and breathing 
hard. A storm was coming up from the west, and by a 
flash, of lightning I saw a white set expression on 
his face. 
"In another moment he was aboard me and soon had 
up the sails, and we began to work out of the harbor with 
the light breeze that preceded the storm. I saw^ it com- 
ing, and knew we ought to reef, so I heeled a bit to call 
his attention, but he never moved. It was coming up 
fast, and looked wicked, I braced myself for it and set 
my planks close together, as a man sets his teeth in a su- 
preme effort. Then it struck us all of a sudden and 
knocked me down till the water poured into the cock- 
pit, and I was afraid he'd go overboard. But I managed 
to square away and in a moment we -were tearing before it 
a.s I'd never gone before, and only once since. I thought 
my mast would go, and I don't know what I'd have done 
if I hadn't managed to break the peak halyard and ease 
the pressure a bit, for he sat at the tiller like a dead man, 
scarcely helping me at all. 
"The water was whipped up into whitecaps in a min- 
ute, a great whirling, seething mass that flew all over us 
and pounded and shook me so my seams would have 
started if I'd been an ordinary boat. In a flash of light- 
ning I saw a coaster almost dead ahead laid to before it, 
and vye tore past, missing it by not two fathoms. 
"The storm gradually blew over and the wind died 
down almost flat. Then morning came and we put into a 
harbor, where my master left me. I was dreadfully wor- 
ried about what he might do, but felt if he would only 
go off for a good long cruise we'd manage to live the 
trouble down somehow. I kept watching for him all 
day, and I can realize now the terrible anxiety and sus- 
pense of the wife waiting for her husband's uncertain re- 
turn. I never felt such relief as when I saw him come 
down to the landing that evening. He came aboard and 
tumbled into one of the bunks and slept heavily, for he 
was worn out by the night before. 
"He spent the next morning bringing supplies out in the 
dinghy and stowing them away, and then I felt it would 
be all right, for we were going on the long cruise. Then 
life began for me again. He never used to be much for 
reefing, but the way he cracked on now was a caution 
to my rigging. We'd go ripping along under all working 
sail when even the coasters were reefing, and I was sorely 
put to it to stand the strain, but I felt I mustn't give up 
if he was to be saved, and I would have gone onto the 
rocks to do that 
■'We went outside Block Island and round Cape Cod 
and came back outside Long Island. I was glad when 
winter came, for it had been a hard season for me, and I 
needed a rest. 
"I was gone over thoroiighly the next spring, and felt 
as well as ever, but my master had had a harder time 
than I, and I found him very different. He was quieter 
and didn't have the tireless energy, and was slower in 
handling me. I missed his cheery laugh and he never 
whistled up a breeze the way he used to. But we did lots 
of sailng, and though I felt very badly about his changed 
condition, I couldn't help feeling glad that now I had no 
rival. 
"The season ended and things were just the same the 
next summer. I had hoped he would get over being so 
melancholy, for it didn't seem fair for me to be having 
such a' good time when he was so unhappy. 
"He took his vacation rather late that year, so it 
brought our long cruise into the autumn. On our re- 
turn a heavy rain came up which cleared off early one 
morning with the wind from the north and the sim .shining 
its brightest. But we knew the signs well enough to 
know it would bloM' a gale later in the day. He'd sot 
over_ wanting to smash through everything, so we lay 
comfortably at anchor for the day. Shortly after break- 
fast, when it was still pleasant, I saw that detestable 
launch going out, and I was glad, for I knew the man 
would get enough of it before the day was over. As they 
passed I saw the girl and her mother were aboard and 
that worried me. I knew if the skipper saw them he'd 
realize the danger and go out cracking on everything 
to keep as near as possible, and I tried to attract his at- 
tention, but he was busy below writing up the log and 
never noticed. 
"The wind soon began to freshen, and I got so uneasy 
I rolled a good deal at anchor. There was an island a 
considerable distance out from the harbor, and to the 
sottth of it, so I could get a good view of the surf break- 
ing on its win'ard side, and it wasn't reassuring. I can 
tell you. The wind kept blowing harder all day, and 
by the afternoon there was the wickedest sea running 
I'd ever seen in the Sound. I kept thinking of the launch 
and hoping they'd put into some harbor. 
"It was getting late in the afternoon, when, to my 
horror, I saw the launch some distance off the 
island. They were evidently trying to get un- 
der its lee, but the launch was making bad 
weather of it and pitching heavily. I watched them 
closely, and when they were perhaps half a mile from 
the island the launch became urmianageable. As near as 
I could make out from the distance, something had hap- 
pened to her engine, and they began to drift right toward 
the breakers, though the chances were they'd be swampe^ 
before that. 
"I gave a great jerk at my cable that brought my 
master on deck in a hurry. He took in the situation at 
a glance, and though at that distance he could not have 
told who was aboard, he sent up the jib and jigger with a 
rush. He didn't stop to weigh anchor, but cut the cable 
with one blow from the hatchet. As we got under way he 
added the reefed mainsail. It was more than we ought to 
have carried, but it was a race for life, and we had to 
take chances. The weather rigging was stretched as tight 
as a harp string, and the wind played through it with a 
wild discordant music. Never will I forget that race. It 
was no mere silver cup we were trying for. As we got 
near enough for my tuaster to make out those aboard, a 
groan escaped his tight shut teeth and he braced him- 
self a little firmer and grasped the tiller a little tighter. 
But even in those terrible moments of suspense a thrill 
of sweet revenge ran through my timbers. Never again 
would that man think I had too much freeboard, as the 
waves dashed high over my decks. Never again would 
the staunch yawl rig look homely. Never again, if he 
should live till those very rocks we were all too fast ap- 
poaching were worn away, would he see such beauty in a 
boat as when I alone stood between him and death. 
"He was so scared that when we had nearly reached 
them he jumped overboard, and leaving the others struck 
out for us. For the first time in my life I heard my 
master curse. Luck was with the coward, however, and 
he caught the bobstay and managed to climb aboard and 
crawled aft, a pitiable, miserable object, but my master 
never looked at him. 
"We ran up as close as we dared and then heaved a 
line across the launch. The engineer, who was the only 
man on board, kept his head and caught the line. We 
made our end fast to a life preserver and a cable to that. 
The engineer soon had the life preserver made fast to the 
girl's mother, and my master hauled her over and aboard 
in a hurry. We were now so close to the launch that we 
were in great danger of being stove in, and the wind and 
tide were taking us to the breakers fast. There was not 
a second to lose. My master braced himself with one 
arm round the mizzen stay and called to the girl to jump 
and he'd catch her. Her face was very white, but she 
was perfectly cool, and chose her time just right as the 
latmch rose a little above us. The engineer jumped at the 
same time and caught the mainstay. My main boom 
was banging from side to side like a battering ram, and 
just as my master got the girl safely aboard it struck 
him a tremendous blow on his arm, ^yl^ich dropped use- 
less and limp at his side. I knew it was broken, but the 
look the girl gave him went a long ways toward mend- 
ing it. She said she must go below to look after her 
mother, who had gone down to the cabin, but I think 
she wanted to stay with him. 
"The hardest part was yet to come in beating off that 
lee shore, but my master would not give up the tiller in 
spite of his broken arm, for he knew he could do more 
with me than any one else. It was the fight of my life, 
and never had life seemed so worth fighting for before. 
Although I put my whole keel and sail in it, or as a man 
would say, my whole body and soul, it seemed of no 
avail. Never had I felt such a dizzy lightness in my 
keel, which made it impossible to stand up. Never had 
water in the cockpit seemed to weigh me down so. Never 
had it been so hard to rise to a breaking wave. My master 
and I had been through heavy blows before and had had 
some close calls, as when we nearly ran down the coaster 
in the thunder squall, but as I looked back on it all it 
seemed like half-rater play to this. 
"There is an awfulness about the breakers that is pecu- 
liar. It is more than the fear of death. Perhaps it is 
some such feeling as a man must have; when liis scanty 
foothold on the side of a precipice begins to gi/e way. 
"Nearer and nearer we drew toward^ that fatal line, and 
my master watching it, with the lines growing deeper on 
his face, ordered the engineer to stand by to open the 
hatchwaj^ to let those in the cabin out if it came to the 
worst. 
"When we had scarcely 20 feet to go to clear the point 
of the island we were just on the line of the breakers. 
As we fell in the trough of the second of three big waves 
it looked as if all was up, for it broke just under our 
lee, and the engineer threw back the hatchway and cabin 
doors. But at the same moment I was rising on the next 
wave, and before he gave his warning shout I caught the 
full force of the wind and with a last supreme effort 
forged ahead and cleared the point as the wave broke all 
froth and white astern. The engineer's cry of danger 
was turned into a loud cheer, but my master sank back 
wearily, saying 'Take the stick and keep her before it.' 
"We made the next harbor a few miles further down. 
There were some friends of the girl's staying there, who, 
of course, had them all stay at their house, and couldn't 
do enough for them, and had a doctor for my master. 
But the launch owner took the first train for the city. 
"The doctor looked very grave when he saw my 
master's arm, and was not sure that he could save it, and 
as a fever set in my master became delirious, said he 
ought to have a nurse. But the girl wouldn't hear of 
this, and insisted on taking care of him herself. It was 
wonderful to see how quickly he recovered, and the doc- 
tor took great credit to himself; but I am older than I 
was and understand things better, and I^know that the 
cure was not due to the doctor at all." 
"That's bully!" said the Cat as the Yawl stopped speak- 
ing. "It beats anything the 'Triple Alliance' ev^r did," 
"And it was a bigger prize than I ever won," said the 
Racing Machine. 
"By my keel!" put in the Cutter, "it was nobly donej 
better than anything I can boast of, though I've had ex- 
periences too." 
"I don't think much of your master," remarked the 
Half- Rater. "After all you had done for him he ought 
to keep you in commission." 
"Well," continued the Yawl, "he couldn't sail any more 
that season, and I'm rather small to have a girl out 
cruising, so this year they're sailing a schooner." 
The Forest and Stream is put to press each week on Tuesday. 
Correspondence intended for publication should reach us 9t the 
latest by >Ion43y w4 ^ esrUcr »• practicablt^ 
One Say and Another. 
r'oRT Richmond, Dec. 10. — Eatior Forest and Stream: 
In your issue of Dec, 8 you publish a story by Frank 
Moonan, of New York city, which assumes an air of old 
friendship and acquaintance with our litttle Isle of Staten. 
This story came under my eyes, in the course of my 
weekly reading, and I deem its notice worth while for 
the sake of the good name and fame of our island and 
the soprtsmen dwelling thereon. 
Imprimis, I want to qualify as an expert. I have hunted 
over Staten Island for more than fifteen years, and its 
rocks and rills and vales and hills are my old familiars. 
The strip of beach Mr. Moonan speaks of I know v/ell, 
and if the kind faced old chap of whom he speaks so 
poetically is one of the twain I have in mind who lived 
on that strip of beach at the time of Mr. Moonan's "one 
day," then he is the courteous gentleman who success- 
fully set a spring gun for his neighbor, and paid for it in 
State prison. 
Further along the beach and near the creek dividing 
what are now known as Midland and South beaches is 
still the shanty occupied till within a year by another 
sportsman of the same kind as the hospitable old set- 
gunner. In a wrangle with a neighboring shanty dweller 
he shot his opponent, and later became distinguished in 
achiveving the same haven reached by the first named 
gentleman. 
But these sprightly days of neighborly attentions in 
the way of spring and set guns are dead and gone, and 
where once these arts flourished, there are miles of clean 
swept beach, wave beaten as of yore, but trodden and 
retrodden by thousands of overheated Manhattanites who 
come for a breath of the salt air and a dip in the saltier 
sea. 
But — to our mutton. 
Mr. Moonan tells of dropping in at the Soprtsman's 
Rest, a cozy Maypole Tavern of a hostelry, and seeing 
a half dozen of so of gunners with well-filled bags, while 
in the foreground of this delightful scene is the figure of 
"mine host" displaying eight woodcock brought that 
morning to bag by the host himself. 
Then in excellent brat-worst dialect Mr. Moonan 
quotes the host. 
"Veil," he said, reflectively, "it's pooty goot now, but 
hein! soon alretty it may be tarn poor." 
"Prophetic words!" says Mr. Moonan. 
Below these sentences Mr. Moonan has dramatically 
drawn the conventional dash, indicating a break of time, 
dropped two spaces and goes on in the tone of the gifted 
authoress of "Ulmont Ulvesford." 
"Five years had passed over the golden curls of 
Katrina Hasenpfeffer when next Ulmont beheld her," 
only Mr. Moonan says, "That day, well remembered, was 
years ago," and then — to be brief — Mr. Moonan relates 
his "meeting up" with the slouching gunners who in- 
form him that there is "nary a thing" to shoot except 
meadowlarks and robins, and they offer to guide him on 
a hunt after these birds. (During this conversation Mr, 
Moonan observes that the pockets of "Pete," one of the 
gunners, are bulging — inferentially with the contraband 
carcasses of robins and meadowlarks.) 
Then Pete gives his Christian name and address to Mr. 
Moonan, who ungratefully repays Pete by "secretly wish- 
ing him in the lockup at Richmond." 
In conclusion Mr. Moonan plaintively cries: 
"And is this possible, I mused, as I went on my way, 
within fifteen miles of New York? 
"I understand that a close season of three years for 
quail has been declared on Staten Island. No wonder, 
indeed. But, query: Will it not soon be in order to 
declare a close season for robins and meadowlarks and 
song birds generally? And this suggests another query: 
Does a close season close?" 
And now, Mr. Moonan, eyes front! 
Regarding the genial host scene. 
Woodcock visit us as of yore, though not in such 
numbers, perhaps, and last spring I personally knew of 
six pairs of birds that successfully raised broods. Last 
fall bags of eight to ten v^'oodcock to a gun for a day's 
shooting were not uncommon, and a good man and dog 
in the right place could have had some fun last week, for 
we got a corner of the flight that visited Long Island 
at that time. 
As to the quail that "Pete" said had disappeared, I 
may state that those planted by members of our associa- 
tion are still with us and flourishing. 
But this letter could have no point were it only to call 
attention to our island as a happy hunting ground, its 
chief reason being to address to Mr, Moonan a "query" 
or two: 
If Mr. Moonan had a violator of the law under his 
nose in the person of Pete, as he wants us to believe, why 
didn't he run him in or inform against him? 
Mr. Moonan reads the Forest and Stream, and writes 
for it, and therefore with this double distinction it is 
reasonable to conclude he is a sportsman in its truest 
sense. If he'd not confined his feelings to secretly wish- 
ing Pete in the lockup, Mr. Moonan wouldn't have had 
to ask himself so mournfully "Does a close season close?" 
No loophole for you, Mr. Moonan. You had it from 
Pete himself that he was an old offender, and you've got 
his name and address in your jeans now. 
There is an association on Staten Island known as the 
Richmond County Game and Fish Protective Associa- 
tion that's looking after business of this kind, and that 
has been instrumental in aiding in four convictions for 
game law violations within the past five weeks, and if 
Mr. Moonan will send the naines and residences of 
Peter and his co-slaughterer to C. V. Tobin, Princess Bay, 
or G. K. Gill, Tottenville (special protectors for Rich- 
mond county, appointed at the request of the Associa- 
- tion), or to . Edgar Hicks. West New Brighton, he may 
rest assured that they will secretly keep eyes on- Peter 
and his friend, and il they catch him violating the law, 
will proceed against him in a manner that will make 
"secretly wishing him in a lockup" look like three bat- 
tered silver dimes. 
Yes, Mr. Moonan, a close season closes, but a close 
season which exists only in itself as a statutory creation 
and not in the honor of sportsmen and protectors, is a 
