Fritz and I at once prepared to make a reconnoitre; we armed ourselves with our guns, pistols, and cutlasses, took a spyglass, seated ourselves in the cajack, and with a parting entreaty from the mother to be cautious, paddled out of the bay and round the high cliffs on our left. For nearly an hour we advanced in the direction from which the reports of the guns seemed to proceed. Nothing could we see, however, but the frowning rocks and cliffs, and the waves beating restlessly at their base. Cape Pug-Nose was reached, and we began to round the bluff old point. In a moment all our doubts were dispelled, and joy and gratitude to the Great Giver of all good filled our hearts. There, in the little sheltered cove beyond the cape, her sails furled, and anchor dropped, lay a brig of war with the English colours at her mast-head.
With the glass I could discern figures upon the deck, and upon the shore beyond several tents pitched under the shelter of the trees, and the smoke of fires rising amongst them. As I handed the glass to Fritz, I felt a sudden misgiving. “What,” said I to myself, “can this English vessel be doing thus far from the usual track of ships?” and I called to mind tales of mutinous crews who have risen against their officers, have chosen some such sheltered retreat as this; have disguised the vessel, and then sailed forth to rob and plunder upon the high seas.
Fritz then exclaimed: “I can see the captain, father, he is speaking to one of the officers, and I can see his face quite well; he is English, I am certain he is English, and the flag speaks the truth!” and he put the glass again in my hand that I might see for myself.
Still keeping under the shelter of the cliff, I carefully surveyed the vessel. There was no doubt that Fritz was right, and my fears were once more dispelled; all was neatness and regularity on board; the spotless decks, the burnished steel and brass, and the air of perfect order which pervaded both ship and camp, be-
