d turning to his trunk, he opened it
and drew them out one by one, passing the crackers and cheese to
Tommy, and imbibing a little of the deacon himself, thus satisfying
the cravings of nature. Night came on; they were crossing the bar and
approaching the outlet of the Edisto, which was broad in sight;
but there was neither coffee nor tea on board, and no prospect of
supper-nothing but a resort to the crackers and cheese remained, the
stock of which had already diminished so fast, that what was left was
treasured among the things too choice to be eaten without limitation.
They reached the entrance, and after ascending a few miles, came to
anchor under a jut of wood that formed a bend in the river. The baying
of dogs during the night intimated the vicinity of a settlement near,
and in the morning the captain sent one of the negroes on shore for a
bottle of milk. "Massa, dat man what live yonder ha'n't much no-how,
alwa's makes 'em pay seven-pence," said the negro. Sure enough it was
true; notwithstanding he was a planter of some property, he made the
smallest things turn to profit, and would charge vessels going up the
river twelve and a half cents per bottle for milk.

The captain had spent a restless night, and found himself blotched with
innumerable chinch-bites; and on examining the berths and lockers, he
found them swarming in piles. Calling one of the black men, he commenced
overhauling them, and drew out a perfect storehouse of rubbish, which
must have been deposited there, without molestation, from the day the
vessel was launched up to the present time, as varied in its kinds as
the stock of a Jew-shop, and rotten with age. About nine o'clock they
got under weigh again, and proceeding about twenty miles with a fair
wind and tide, they came to another point in the river, on which a
concourse of men had assembled, armed to the teeth with guns, rifles,
and knives. As he passed up, they were holding parley with a man and boy
in a canoe a few rods from the shore. At every few minutes they
would point their rifles at him, and with threatening gestures, swear
vengeance against him if he attempted to land. The captain, being
excited by the precarious situation of the man and his boy, and anxious
to ascertain the particulars, let go his anchor and "came to" a few
lengths above.

Scarcely had his anchor brought up than he was hailed from the shore by
a rough-looking man, who appeared to be chief in the manouvre, and who