truth than poetry in it. Before proceeding far the wind
blew a tempest, when a young fisherman in his sailboat bore down upon
me, and begged me to come on board. We attempted to tow the canoe
astern, but she filled with water, which obliged us to take her on
board. As we flew along before the wind, dashing over the shoals with
mad-cap temerity, I discovered that my new acquaintance, Burnett, was a
most daring as well as reckless sailor. He told me how he had capsized
his father's schooner by carrying sail too long. "This 'ere slow way of
doing things" he detested. His recital was characteristic of the man.

"You see, sir, we was bound for Newbern up the Neuse River, and
as we were well into the sound with all sail set, and travelling
along lively, daddy says, 'Lorenzo, I reckon a little yaupon
wouldn't hurt me, so I'll go below and start a fire under the
kittle.' 'Do as you likes, daddy,' sez I. So down below he goes,
and I takes command of the schooner. A big black squall soon
come over Cape Hatteras from the Gulf Stream, and it did look
like a screecher. Now, I thought, old woman, I'll make your
sides ache; so I pinted her at it, and afore I could luff her up
in the wind, the squall kreened her on to her beam-ends. You'd a
laughed to have split yourself, mister, if you could have seen
daddy a-crawling out of the companion-way while the water was
a-running down stairs like a crick. Says he, ruther hurriedly,
'Sonny, what's up?' 'It isn't what's _up_, daddy; but what's
_down_,' sez I; 'it sort o' looks as if we had capsized.' 'Sure
'nuff,' answered dad, as the ballast shifted and the schooner
rolled over keel uppermost. We floundered about like porpoises,
but managed to get astride her backbone, when dad looked kind
of scornfully at me, and burst out with, 'Sonny, do you call
yourself a keerful sailor?' 'Keerful enough, dad,' sez I, 'for a
_smart_ one. It's more credit to a man to _drive_ his vessel
like a sailor, than to be crawling and bobbing along like a
diamond-backed terrapin.' Now, stranger, if you'll believe me,
that keerful old father of mine would never let me take the
helum again, so I sticks to my aunt at the cape."

I found that the boat in which we were sailing was a dug-out, made from
two immense cypress logs. Larger boats than this are made of three logs,
and smaller ones are dug out of one.

Burnett to