hither in the whirligig of life; for the peddler, shrewd, calculating
and unscrupulous, was wandering along the Acadian shores driving hard
bargains in small wares; and the Indian, like his race, fond of a
roaming life, was drifting about the bay in a small sloop he owned,
fishing where he would, hunting when he chose, stopping a week in some
uninhabited cove to set traps, or lounging in a village drinking or
gambling.

The Jew had a little money and, what was of more value, brains and
audacity. He also knew the conditions then prevalent along the Maine
coast, and all the risks, as well as the profit, to be obtained in
smuggling liquor. Rum was cheap in Nova Scotia and dear in Maine. The
Indian with his sloop formed one means to an end; his money and cunning
the other. A verbal compact to join these two forces on the basis of
share and share alike for mutual profit, was entered into, and Captain
Wolf and the Sea Fox, as the sloop was named, with the Indian and his
dog for crew, began their career.

As a preliminary some fifty kegs of assorted liquors, as many empty
mackerel kits, a small stock of oil clothing, sea boots, fishing gear,
tobaccos, etc., were purchased and stowed away on the sloop, and then
she set sail.

There were along the coast of Maine in those days many uninhabited
islands seldom visited. Fishermen avoided them, for the deep sea
furnished safer and more profitable ground; coasters gave them a wide
berth, and there were no others to disturb them. Among these, and lying
midway between Monhegan and Big Spoon Islands, and distant from the Isle
au Haut, the nearest inhabited one, about twenty miles, was a freak of
nature known as "The Pocket," or Pocket Island, as shown on the maps.
This merits a brief description. It was hollow. That is, from a general
view it appeared like an attempt to inclose a small portion of the sea
within high, fir-covered walls. It resembled a horseshoe with the points
drawn close. Neptune beat Jove, however, leaving a narrow fissure
connecting the inclosed water and the outer ocean, and through this the
tides flowed fiercely; but so protected was the inner harbor that never
a ripple disturbed its surface. It was this harbor that gave the island
its name.

Occasionally a shipwreck occurred here. In 1842 the British barque
Lancaster was driven on to this island in a winter night snowstorm, and
all hands perished. Five of the crew were washed ashore alive, only to
freeze among