ave her
all the momentum that muscular power could exert, as she was headed for
the southern point of the beach, across the dangerous inlet.

Though it was only half a mile across, the passage of Watchapreague
taxed me severely. Waves washed over my canoe, but the gallant little
craft after each rebuff rose like a bird to the surface of the water,
answering the slightest touch of my oar better than the best-trained
steed. After entering the south-side swash, the wind struck me on the
back, and seas came tumbling over and around the boat, fairly forcing
me on to the beach. As we flew along, the tumultuous waters made my
head swim; so, to prevent mental confusion, I kept my eyes only upon
the oars, which, strange to say, never betrayed me into a false stroke.

As a heavy blast beat down the raging sea for a moment, I looked over
my shoulder and beheld the low, sandy dunes of the southern shore of
the inlet close at hand, and with a severe jolt the canoe grounded
high on the strand. I leaped out and drew my precious craft away from
the tide, breathing a prayer of thankfulness for my escape from
danger, and mentally vowing that the canoe should cross all other
treacherous inlets in a fisherman's sloop. I went into camp in a
hollow of the beach, where the sand-hills protected me from the
piercing wind. All that afternoon I watched from my burrow in the
ground the raging of the elements, and towards evening was pleased
to note a general subsidence of wind and sea.

The canoe was again put into the water and the thoroughfare followed
southward for a mile or two, when the short day ended, leaving me
beside a marshy island, which was fringed with an oyster-bed of
sharp-beaked bivalves. Stepping overboard in the mud and water, the
oars and paddle were laid upon the shell reef to protect the canoe,
which was dragged on to the marsh. It grew colder as the wind died
out. The marsh was wet, and no fire-wood could be found. The canvas
cover was removed, the cargo was piled up on a platform of oars and
shells to secure it from the next tide, and then I slowly and
laboriously packed myself away in the narrow shell for the night. The
canvas deck-cover was buttoned in its place, a rubber blanket covered
the cockpit, and I tried to sleep and dream that I was not a sardine,
nor securely confined in some inhospitable vault. It was impossible to
turn over without unbuttoning one side of the deck-cover and going
through contortions that wou