he, "and therefore am not likely to be
one of the unfortunates over whom a mysterious but melancholy fate
impends. I have never found in the Tribune anything calculated to
encourage a belief in ghosts of men, or vessels either; and what Horace
Greeley can't swallow I can't. But I shall make minutes of this little
matter, and if anything does happen, will forward a full account, in
detail, to that truly great man. Come, La Salle; it's time we were abed.
Good night, gentlemen."

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V.

A MAD SPORTSMAN.--SNOW-BLIND.--A NIGHT OF PERIL.

The next morning shone bright and clear, and the gunners were at their
posts in expectation of a good day's sport. They looked in vain,
however, for any indications of open water, and a hole, sunk with the
axe to the depth of eighteen inches, failed to reach salt water,
although several layers of sweet, fresh water were struck; and the
little hollow furnished them many draughts of an element nowhere more
welcome than upon the spring ice. The sun shone brightly, their faces,
still sore and feverish with yesterday's exposure, became sorer than
ever, and the neck became chafed wherever it rubbed against the coat
collar.

Still, these were minor evils amid the excitement of their occupation,
for many flocks of wild geese were seen; and the appearance of a flock,
however remote, is always the signal for every gunner to get under cover
at once. A small flock of seven were completely destroyed that morning,
in a manner that deserves recording here.

They were first seen striking in from the Gulf, and swinging well to
leeward,--for the wind was westerly,--scaled in to the stand occupied by
Davies and Creamer, who were lying down taking their noon lunch, and
received no warning of their approach until they saw the flock scaling
over their heads. Seizing their guns, both fired as quickly as possible,
Ben a little the first. His first barrel missed, but the second, aimed
at the same bird, brought it down. Creamer's first barrel went off in
the act of cocking, in the hurry and agitation of the surprise; and
letting the muzzle of his gun drop, he stood stupidly gazing at the
departing flock, until roused by Davies's "Give them t'other barrel, any
way." Raising his gun, he fired instantly, and killed a fine gander,
which fell dead a hundred and twelve yards from the stand.

As if blinded by the unexpected danger, the remaining five swung just
inside of the ice-boat,