October, 1919 
FOREST AND STREAM 
527 
and the wind was blowing hard from the 
southwest. We left Black Banks and 
headed for the low marshes against the 
wind intending to make Eel Grass Cove. 
This was across a wide stretch of open 
water where the wind had full sweep. 
Right here I got into trouble. My high 
sided tub bucked the wind like a square 
sail. I believe that if she had had a 
center board, I could have steered her 
across within the proverbial four points 
of the wind without rowing a stroke. 
My companions soon left me behind. 
Presently my starboard oar broke square 
off within a few inches of the row lock. 
It was well worn at that point, but 
would probably have lasted out a fairly 
stiff blow. I was green in bay shooting 
in those days, as I have said before and 
needed looking after. I had picked a 
dangerous boat with poor equipment. 
This wind was already exceptionally 
heavy. It was increasing momentarily, 
although the tide was less than three 
hours high. I drifted back behind Lit- 
tle Sand Island and, as I expected, I 
found Marcus and Horton still clam- 
ming. Explaining my predicament they 
said they would take me home across the 
harbor late in the afternoon. Meanwhile 
Billy and Oscar kept on, knowing that 
I would find the boys and would be safe. 
Early in the afternoon, my new com- 
rades and I rowed in their dory across 
the channel between the sand island and 
Black Banks and climbed to the top of 
the high marsh. Since my unsuccess- 
ful attempt to get away, I had been in 
a sheltered spot sitting on an empty 
clam crate watching Marcus. He was a 
wonder at digging clams, having a well 
oiled joint in the middle. At once the 
force of the gale became apparent to us. 
From a cloudy morning, it had changed 
to a sunny afternoon. A dry south- 
wester was blowing and a tremendous 
one at that. By three o’clock it had at- 
tained the force of a hurricane. Soon 
the ducks began to come and we dis- 
persed ourselves in a line across the 
marsh. I never saw anything like the 
flight that afternoon. We stood or ra- 
ther crouched with our backs to the 
wind and with decoys in pond holes 
watched the ducks. They came out of 
the northeast from the sea interspersed 
with yellow-legs — beetle-head and other 
birds seeking shelter in the marshes and 
waterways southwest of us. We were 
in the direct line of flight, although Billy 
tells me they were pouring in all along 
the sand dunes. The ducks were flying 
ten or fifteen yards high, making heavy 
weather of it and would not stop for de- 
coys. Little wisps of shore birds would 
hurtle by, a few feet above the marsh 
like white snow flakes before a blizzard. 
We shot when birds came within range. 
A n hour before sundown the Barn- 
stable boys began to get uneasy. 
Goodness knows, I had been uneasy 
for hours. We held a consultation. To go 
straight across the harbor to the shack 
and their home was out of the question 
after looking at the sea in the harbor, 
kicked up by the hurricane. We would 
have been in the trough of the waves. 
We were on an exposed shore running 
east and west. It was decided that 
rather than wait for low water, about 
nine oclock, we could try rowing the 
dory against the wind along shore and 
try to make a lee to the westward, then, 
bending south, get across. The high- 
water bucking the southwester made 
short deep troughed waves that terrified 
me, but with two boys who had been 
raised on this water, I felt that their 
judgment was better than mine and 
could be relied upon. We made a start, 
two at the oars and one in the stern on 
the pile of clams. I was on the clams. 
I have since felt a kindly interest in the 
special providence which watches over 
children and inebriates. My coat was 
full of shells. I had on a pair of hip 
rubber boots that had been loaned to me, 
several sizes too large, that leaked. My 
last meal had been eaten thirteen hours 
before. The water, torn off the tops of 
the waves and striking us with force, 
saturated my clothing almost at once. 
Fortunately we did not upset. Someone 
said afterward that we should have un- 
loaded the clams before starting. I, for 
one, believe that we left undone several 
things that might have been to our ad- 
vantage. Please do not think that I 
was idle during this voyage. I baled and 
baled hard. We began shipping water 
at the start and I baled at no one’s 
request. It was quite necessary. We 
made little progress and when our breath 
began to come in gasps, we entered the 
mouth of the little creek barely in the 
nick of time where we held another 
council. Horton, the eldest of the three, 
put it up to us. We could either wait 
where we were for the wind and tide 
to go down or foot it across the marshes 
to the sand dunes, then to the head of 
the marshes four miles west and so 
back on the south side. That is what 
we did. We started at dusk, but it 
was dark before we got to solid ground. 
S OMETIME after nine that night, 
three weary young fellows, one of 
whom could scarce push one over- 
grown, sodden rubber boot ahead of the 
other, straggled into our shack. That 
tramp was over eleven miles of marsh 
and soft sand and took four hours. My 
gunning coat, shells, and heavy gun 
weighed like lead. I was dead with 
fatigue and swore that I would not stir 
foot again that night. However, plenti- 
ful food is a wonderful restorative to 
youth. Billy’s brother Joe had driven 
over to get us so we started for home 
that night. 
Billy had spent the afternoon in the lee 
of Eel Grass Cove with Oscar. He 
bagged sixteen ducks and killed a num- 
ber of others. Experienced bay man 
that he was, the gale was such that he 
did not dare to push his boat far from 
the shelter of the cove for fear he could 
not get back. 
Next day we learned that the high 
wind had set adrift and destroyed much 
shipping on the Massachusetts coast and 
had wrought havoc in other ways. 
We did not record a tremendous bag 
but for my first it was a most interest- 
ing trip and even with the memory of 
its hardships vividly before me, I would 
like to live those two days over again. 
At last a duck came down over the decoys almost to the lighting point, with wings spread widely, and I shot instinctively 
