ached the deck of "The Curlew;" and we were thus
obliged to remain at our anchorage, which, in compliment to the
captain, and after the custom of navigators, we named _Mazard's Bay_.
As the inlet bore no name, and was not even indicated on the charts we
had with us, we felt at liberty to thus designate it, leaving to
future explorers the privilege of rechristening it at their pleasure.

"We shall have a lazy morning of it," Kit remarked, as we stood
loitering about the deck.

"I propose that we let down the boat, and go ashore on the island,"
said Wade. "'Twould seem good to set foot on something firm once
more."

"Well, those ledges look firm enough," replied Raed. "See here,
captain: here's a chap begging to get ashore. Is it safe to trust him
off the ship?"

"Hardly," laughed Capt. Mazard. "He might desert."

"Then I move we all go with him," said Kit. "Let's take some of those
muskets along too. May get a shot at those wild-geese we heard last
evening."

The boat was lowered. We boys and the captain, with Donovan and Hobbs
to row us, got over the rail, and paddled to where a broad jetting
ledge formed a natural quay, on which we leaped. The rock was worn
smooth by the waves of centuries. To let the sailors go ashore with
us, we drew up the boat on the rock several feet, and made it fast
with a line knotted into a crevice between two fragments of flinty
sienite rock at the foot of the crags. We then, with considerable
difficulty and mutual "boosting," clambered up to the top of the
cliffs, thirty or forty feet above the boat, and thence made our way
up to the summit of a bald peak half a mile from the shore, which
promised a good prospect of the surrounding islands. It is hardly
possible to give an idea of the desolate aspect of these ledgy islets.
There was absolutely no soil, no earth, on them. More than half the
surface was bare as black sienite could be. Huge leathery lichens hung
to the rocks in patches; and so tough were they, that one might pull
on them with his whole strength without tearing them. In the crevices
and tiny ravines between the ledges, there were vast beds of damp
moss. In crossing these we went knee-deep, and once waist-deep, into
it. The only plant I saw was a trailing shrublet, sometimes seen on
high mountains in New England, and known to botanists as Andromeda of
the heathworts. It had pretty blue-purple flowers, and was growing
quite plentifully in sheltered nooks. Not a bird nor an