' mail, CONDITION OF BUST-PROOF. 173 
‘‘It is a beautiful sight for any one to look upon — these 
landscapes composed of sloping lawns, waving fields, 
grazing cattle, a village here and there, and the moun- 
tain-sides glistening with the sunlit spray of rushing 
waterfalls. But when to all this is added the fact of one 
being just from the sea, and gazing upon lands seldom 
beheld by the eye of civilization, it becomes a scene well 
calculated to drive the blood through the veins with 
increased velocity. One feels like rushing wildly through 
those waving fields, and throwing his salt-impregnated 
frame into the mountain-stream, or rolling childlike 
upon the green grass, and feeling himself away from the 
sea at last. 
“ This was all veiy beautiful, very desirable, but unfor- 
tunately just then quite unattainable. For the gale still 
raged through, over, and around it all, most effectually 
preventing our ‘rushing into the mountain-stream or 
rolling upon the green grass.' So we amused ourselves 
by overhauling our guns, which had been pronounced 
perfectly ready for service the night before, adding more 
ammunition to our already large supply, resharpening 
our bowie-knives, which had always been like razors, and 
in the various other useless though ingenious occupations 
of restless minds. ‘Old bust-proof' looked more service- 
able that day than I ever saw him before. 
“During the night the gale fortunately abated, and the 
next morning bust-pi'oof and his master, several others 
of the mess, and myself, ventured into our best-pulling 
boat and struck out boldly for the beach. It was a hard 
and wet pull; but something over three-quarters of an 
hour sufficed to cross the stormy half-mile that separated 
