ton by the shoulder. Then Picton raised himself from his couch, and
yawned twice; walked to the table, seated himself on a bench, thrust his
fingers through his black hair, and instantly fell asleep again, after
shaking out into the close atmosphere of the hutch a stifling odor of
animal charcoal.

"A little straw makes a great reek," said Bruce, laughing, "and when a mon
gives out before his pipe, he is like to be burnet," and he pointed to a
long black and brown singe on the worsted comforter of the traveller, by
which we understood that Picton had fallen asleep, pipe in mouth, and then
dropped his lighted _dudeen_ just on the safest part of his neck.

Once again we roused the sleeper; and so, shaking hands with our
hospitable host, we left the comfortable hutch at Wolfe's Landing, and
were soon on our way to the jolly little schooner.

CHAPTER VII.

The other side of the Harbor--A Foraging Party--Disappointment--Twilight
at Louisburgh--Long Days and Early Mornings--A Visit and View of an
Interior--A Shark Story--Picton inquires about a Measure--Hospitality and
the Two Brave Boys--Proposals for a Trip overland to Sydney.

To make use of a quaint but expressive phrase, "it is patent enough," that
travellers are likely to consume more time in reaching a place than they
are apt to bestow upon it when found. And, I am ashamed to say, that even
Louisburgh was not an exception to this general truth; although perhaps
certain reasons might be offered in extenuation for our somewhat speedy
departure from the precincts of the old town. First, then, the uncertainty
of a sailing vessel, for the "Balaklava" was coquettishly courting any and
every wind that could carry her out of our harbor of refuge. Next, the
desire of seeing more of the surroundings of the ancient fortress--the
batteries on the opposite side, the new town, the lighthouse, and the wild
picturesque coast. Add to these the wish of our captain to shift his
anchorage, to get on the side where he would have a better opening towards
the ocean, "when the wind came on to blow,"--to say nothing of being in
the neighborhood of his old friends, whose cottages dotted the green
hill-sides across the bay, as you looked over the bows of the jolly little
schooner. And there might have been other inducements--such as the hope of
getting a few pounds of white sugar, a pitcher of milk (delicious,
lacteous fluid, for which we had yearned so often amid the briny waves);
a