Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 689

I was living some years ago in one of our North American provinces, where, for several seasons, I was employed in constructing a railway, which at the time I write is in liquidation, and which I shall call the Swindleville Junction, a name, I trust, sufficiently expressive. The climate did not suit me, neither did the natives; they were much too 'smart' for my fancy, and I was pretty generally always cheated in my dealings among them. In one instance, however, I managed to save myself from being tricked, but I am bound to say that it was from the clutches of a Yankee that I made my escape, for I fully believe that a native operator would never have given me a chance.

Gold had been discovered about thirty miles from the town of Radnor, which was my headquarters, and the miners were making much money by crushing the quartz. Of course the country was soon inundated by prospectors, and numerous holes were opened with varying luck. Curiously enough, the American element did not prevail much in the district, the fact being that the provincials are more than a match for an American even with his own weapons.

I happened, however, to fall in with one very impressive American, a very pleasant plausible fellow. Captain Marcus Cyrus Duckett was his name. He was a bit of a nautical dandy in his way. Blue surtout and yellow waistcoat, large gold, watch-guard and a Panama hat, shortish black trousers and Wellington boots, was his usual dress; and he was more like an English coasting skipper than an American, being bluff and stout, with a cheery red face and jolly manner. But I soon found out that he was as great a desperado as was ever produced, in spite of his off-hand appearance and rattling style. He had, he said, been a blockade-runner, and had got safely in and out of Charleston eighteen times during the civil war; and I heard hints that his success in that trade was due principally to the fact of his having gained much experience by eluding British cruisers on the coast of Africa, where he had been long employed in command of a Spanish slaver trading to Cuba.

I used to meet this character occasionally at a village called Bleakhausen, where I had frequently to go on business, which occupied me a few hours; and rogue although he undoubtedly was, it was pleasant to have a chat with him and hear him relate some of his adventures. It was a great relief also to hear something else talked than the everlasting drawl and snivel about pitiful election squabbles and rates of freight, or prices of salt fish and molasses, which were the only topics ever discussed among the semi-civilised natives in these regions. By degrees we got pretty intimate; and one day the captain informed me that he had discovered that a gold-bearing quartz vein ran across the country in an easterly direction, and was now profitably worked; that it passed right through a property near the village, which he had been lucky in getting hold of very cheap, as all the timber worth cutting on it had been sawn up, and the place was a barren rocky clearing, full of half-burned stumps, and almost fit for nothing. There were, however, the remains of a water-wheel and saw-mill on the place, and a good fall of water. On these advantages Duckett laid great stress, as useful to drive the quartz-crushing machines which he intended to put up. He had sunk a shaft, he said, and run a heading for some distance into the rock, and that it was looking very well, although it had cost him 'a power of brass.'

I took little interest in all this, as I had often before had prospecting schemes submitted to me, and had decidedly refused to mix myself up with them, as my own business demanded all my attention. And so speculators had at last ceased to trouble me. One day, however, having longer to wait than usual at Bleakhausen, my horse being much knocked up by a long journey, the skipper asked me to go and see his mine, to pass the time. I agreed. So we took a walk of about a couple of miles down to it. I was rather astonished when, after a disagreeable tramp, we came to the place. It was no myth, for there it was in full swing. The men seemed strangers, sailors they appeared, of various nationalities; but comfortable shanties had been put up, and everything seemed all right. A few pieces of the stuff were put in a bag by the captain's wish, and sent to my wagon as specimens. After this, I drove home, thinking nothing more of the matter.

One evening, a few weeks afterwards, I was reading a newspaper account of the gold mines in the province, when it struck me that, as I was going to the principal town next day, I would take one of the Bleakhausen specimens, and have it analysed, just for the fun of the thing, and see if there actually was any gold in it. I did not say where it came from, that being unnecessary; but in a few days I got a flattering analysis by letter, which also contained a small piece of gold extracted by the assayer.

The next time Duckett met me he began to speak of his affairs, and hinted that he was getting a little crippled for cash, and that the millwright he had employed would not proceed with the repairs of the mill or erect crushers without a heavy advance of money; so that, as he had run himself nearly aground, he was reluctantly thinking of abandoning the mine altogether.

I had been thinking over this quietly for a few weeks, when one evening I had a visit in Radnor from the captain, who was much downcast, and told me his creditors were so pressing that he could carry on no longer, but must sell the estate for what it would fetch, to pay them off; and with what balance he might have, would go to sea, and leave the natives and their mines altogether. I was sorry for the fellow. We talked long over the matter; and it ended by my becoming owner of the property for ten thousand dollars, paid in railway bonds, which Duckett said he could easily negotiate in the States; and I was to retain him as overseer till the concern was in full working order, at a salary and percentage on the output, which he solemnly assured me was worth four ounces a ton; equal to nearly ten pounds a ton after paying expenses. His estimate was slightly in excess of my experimental assay, but not much; so I was well enough pleased with my bargain.

Things were going on pretty well under this arrangement, when one night my groom appeared with a dreadful tale of being beaten by Duckett for having declared the mine to be a humbug, and wishing I had not been such an ass as pay him for it, and allow myself to be swindled by a Yankee pirate. Whereupon the enraged mariner speedily made an example of him. I began to suspect that it was just possible that Duckett had imposed on me, in which case I should cut a poor figure every way.

The first thing to do was to satisfy myself that the specimen was the actual produce of the mine; if not, the next thing was to get my bonds back; by fair means, if possible; if not, by any means; but in any event to get quit of the Yankee at once. About two o'clock next morning I saddled a horse myself without disturbing any person, and rode to the mine, which I reached about five o'clock, and awoke the men in the shanties. They were very unwilling to let me descend, as Duckett was not there; but after some altercation, and seeing me very determined, they gave me a lamp, and lowered me away. I was not down five minutes when I discovered I had been done outright; the original specimen was dark-brown coloured, and the stuff in the mine was dark-blue, and not a trace of gold in it. The rascal had obtained the specimens from a mine called Mount Benger, some miles away; and had played an old and common trick – namely, placed the gold specimens among the rubbish, and then picked them up before my eyes. As soon as I had fully satisfied myself, I got back to the foot of the shaft; and to my great gratification, was, on giving the signal, hauled to the top at once, just in time to see Captain Duckett coming up the hill.

He was in a desperate passion at not having had notice of my visit; but it was no part of my business to quarrel with him just yet. So I soon managed to smooth him down with a story about my being restless, and unable to sleep in the night, and thinking a sharp ride would do me good, &c.; and I made him even believe that I was pleased, and more than ever satisfied with my bargain. The captain took it all most comfortably.

I asked him to breakfast at the inn; but he declined; agreeing, however, to come afterwards to smoke and talk over matters, which he did. After some cheerful talk, I hit on a scheme to recover my papers. I agreed to lay a tramway to the mill from the mine, and requested him to find some one to furnish us with timber for it; and he was to come to Radnor on Tuesday and tell me what he had done, and also to meet an engineer with whom I was in treaty to do the work at the water-wheel. I called for my horse; but just as I was going to mount, I suddenly turned round and said: 'Oh, by the bye, captain, Davis the lawyer was saying yesterday that those bonds are of no use to you until they are transferred by being indorsed and signed by me. I forgot to speak about it just now; the tramway put it out of my head; but if you like, I'll take them in with me and get Davis to do the needful; and you can get them on Tuesday, when you are in.'

It was a bold stroke for the recovery of my bonds, but the bait took. 'All right,' said he; 'if you'll only wait half a minute, I'll fetch them;' and away he went, and soon came back with the parcel.

I saw at once I was certain of my game; so, as the packet was a little bulky, and did not go easily into my pocket, I said to him never to mind it then, but to bring it to Radnor on Tuesday, and hand it to Davis himself, which would be the safest plan; and that I would call on Monday, and tell the lawyer to be ready for him – to which proposal he smilingly assented; and with that I mounted, and trotted merrily home, sometimes in the woods almost hallooing with delight. I called for Davis, and told him that Duckett was coming to see him on Tuesday, and the purpose of his visit, and that he was to take his instructions, and I would see him in the course of the day, after Duckett had been with him.

Davis was not noted for honesty; but he was the only limb of the law in the place, and our firm had very frequently occasion for his services, although we knew well enough that we could trust him no farther than we could see him, and that he would hang his best friend, if he could make ten cents by the job. So I did not incline to let him know the exact state of matters till I had the bonds fairly in my own hand, when I intended to ask his professional opinion on what I was going to do – namely, to retain possession of them myself.

On Tuesday morning I set a young English boy, called 'the Nipper,' who was in my employment, but was personally unknown to the captain, to look out for him when he arrived, and to watch him all day, and keep me posted up in his movements, and above all to let me know the moment he traced him to Davis's den. In due time he announced to me in my office, that Captain Duckett had arrived at Davis's door, and had actually employed my spy to hold his horse, while he went in with a brown-paper parcel, and shortly came out again, attended to the door by old Davis; and the latest news was that he had put up at the hotel, and was then very busy assisting to demolish a leg of lamb and pumpkin pie. Now was my time; so I went up to Davis, and asked him to shew me the papers. I compared them with a note of the numbers I had in my book, found them all correct, and tied them carefully up and put them in my pocket; and then proceeded to unfold the transaction to the lawyer, and ask his advice as to whether I was legally authorised, under the circumstances, to keep possession now that I had them. Moreover I told him he should not lose his expected fees, as I would cheerfully pay them myself.

His opinion was that the law would bear me out; but that it was a dangerous affair, as the pirate, as he called him, was a dreadful character, and there was no saying what he might do. I quieted his fears a bit and gave him twenty dollars, but he was still uneasy; and as soon as I left him, he had his horse put to his wagon and went away to the country, leaving word that he had been suddenly called from home and would not be back for some days.

I went to the bank and had my bundle deposited in the safe; and after that there was nothing more to do than to have the row with the captain over; so my mind was easy, and I went home to luncheon. When I got back to the office, I loaded a pair of heavy double-barrelled horse-pistols which we used when travelling with money on pay-days, and laid them in an open drawer in my writing-table, just to be handy in case of accidents. I had scarcely written half a page of a letter, when Captain Marcus Cyrus made his appearance in no very pleasant temper, and with a face as red as the rising sun. He began by abusing Davis. 'He had been to his house, and he was gone.' Where were his bonds? Did I know anything of them? He would do this, that, and everything; and raged like a demon.

I let him carry on for a while, and then I opened upon him and told him what a wretch he was, and that I had fortunately discovered him in time; that his mine was a swindle; that I would have him apprehended as a thief and a rogue; and that I had the bonds safely locked up, and he would never see them again; whereupon out came his revolver, which in truth, I wondered he had not produced before, and with many a high-sounding phrase he ordered me to give them up at once (thinking I had them in the office-safe), or he would riddle me with his Colt.

I did not care much for all this, as a Colt is a very inferior weapon to a brace of double pistols carrying ounce-bullets; so I snatched my pistols, and jumped up and closed with him in a second, with one in each hand, fully determined if he attempted to fire, to put an end to his rascality for ever. He seemed rather astonished at the sudden turn matters had taken, and did not appear to relish the look of the four ugly tubes in such close proximity to his person; so he toned down more easily than I expected, although he continued to growl like a bear with a sore head. Ordering him out, I escorted him to the door, and saw him go down-stairs, putting his pistol into his pocket and slamming the doors behind him; and I cannot say I was sorry that matters had passed off so quietly. However, it soon appeared that I was not to be done with my gentleman just yet; in a short time my scout came to say that he was away. He had gone to the stables for his horse; then he lighted a cigar, all the while raging at everybody he came alongside of; he then went to a hardware store, where the boy learned that he bought a couple of cold-set chipping chisels, a hammer, a crow-bar, and some small steel quarry-wedges, with which he drove off, as if homeward-bound.

When I heard all this, I at once suspected that he intended to come back at night to break into the office and force the safe; and the event proved that I was correct in my surmise. I mounted the Nipper on a pony, and sent him away to find out where the rascal had put up, as I felt certain that he would not go all the way to Bleakhausen if he intended to come back at night; and about dusk my messenger returned with the news that he had marked his game down in a ruinous shanty on the edge of the forest where an old convict lived, who sold bad rum and worse tobacco to Indians, negro squatters, and all the scamps in the neighbourhood. The inhabitants of Radnor are of many and various creeds and denominations, and they are none of those who tarry long at their wretched potations, but all get soon elevated and go soon to bed; by eleven o'clock everything is usually all quiet for the night. Thus I calculated that if I was to see my nautical friend again, it would be somewhere about twelve o'clock or one in the morning; and I took my measures accordingly. I told two of my best gangers to come to my house at eleven o'clock, but to say nothing to any person about it, as what I wanted done must be kept quiet. When they came, I explained my suspicions about Captain Duckett. One of them was a Yorkshire navvy of the good old stamp, so rare nowadays. Dick was his name. He might have been in a much better position had he been steady; but poor Dick must have a spree every pay-day, and by the following Tuesday was always reduced to poverty; however, he was a decent civil fellow and a capital hand, for all that. The other was an Irishman, Mike Grady; a smart fellow too, but always in trouble for fighting with his men; but for the business I had in hand that was no great disqualification. I provided each with a stout, long ash hammer-shank and a piece of soft Manilla white line, after which we went quietly down and ensconced ourselves among some bushes opposite the office-door, on the other side of the street. The programme was, that when the captain appeared, Mike was to steal across as soon as he commenced operations and fell him by a blow with his ash-stick; when we were to tie him hand and foot and deliver him to the sheriff in the morning – this being our only chance of getting him; for to apply to a magistrate would only have caused a talk, and would likely have scared the ruffian from making the attempt; and besides that, I wanted to catch him in the very act of burglary, which would insure a severe punishment. We had not been very long at our post, when the sound of wheels was heard at a distance as if coming slowly and cautiously; by-and-by the noise ceased, leading us to imagine that he had tied up his horse about two hundred yards from where we were. I peeped carefully out; and as the night was not very dark, I could see a figure stealing noiselessly along; and sure enough it was Duckett himself. He had managed to change his Panama hat for a dog-skin sailor's cap, and his blue surtout for an old reefing-jacket; he had moccasins on over his boots, to deaden the sound of his footsteps, and I could see his belt, with his revolver and a knife sticking in it. He was evidently prepared for mischief, being armed with a hammer in one hand and the crow-bar in the other. Stopping at the door he laid down his hammer, and struck a match and lighted a small lamp he took from his pocket; and he had just inserted the claw-end of the crow below one of the half-leaves of the door, to prise it from the hinges, when the too impetuous Irishman, Mike, gave a howl and ran across to him. The Yankee bolted like a rocket, flung his bar from him as if it were red-hot, and made off at a pace that defied capture. We got round the corner just in time to see him jump into his wagon and commence flogging his mare with the buckle-end of the reins like a madman, standing up and yelling to her at the same time; he went off at a rattling gallop, and all the satisfaction I had was to send a bullet after him to freshen his way. He got home that morning; and he and all his gang were away from Bleakhausen before daylight, having evidently had all ready for a sudden start, although compelled to effect it minus the captain's expected plunder. I got out a warrant for his apprehension; but it was useless, as we soon heard that Captain M. C. Duckett and his crew had been wrecked in an American schooner, and forwarded to Port Royal Harbour, in South Carolina. I never heard of him again, unless he was the same person whose name appeared in a New York paper in connection with a gambling riot and murder on board a Mississippi steamboat of which Captain Marcus Cyrus Duckett was commander, and it is extremely improbable that there could be two desperadoes of that name.

The last time I saw my valuable estate it looked dismal enough; the shanties were burned, and the mill had fallen to pieces; and I had almost forgotten the whole affair, till I received an intimation a short time ago from a collector of taxes, that unless many years' arrears of taxes and mining license were immediately paid, he would have the place sold to pay them and his expenses; all of which he is very welcome to try to do, though I pity the purchaser. I could say much on the subject. But all I need observe is, that my adventure, which I have related exactly as it took place, offers a fair specimen of the trickeries that are of constant occurrence connected with speculative mining operations in various parts of America.

CRUISING ON THE 'BROADS.'

One of the greatest charms in Nature is her infinite variety, as may be seen even without travelling beyond the limits of our island; almost every county has its own peculiar expression, differing like the differing expressions of the human face, and presenting, between the lofty grandeur of the Scotch mountains and the undulating luxuriance of Southern England, many gradations of form and colour.

In the eastern extremity of Norfolk there is a part almost entirely composed of lake, river, and marsh, known as the 'Broad District;' Broad being the local term for lake. The largest of those, Breydon Water, lies within the narrow neck of land on which Yarmouth is built; and towards this lake three rivers radiate from different directions – the Bure, the Waveney, and the Yare flowing from the ancient city of Norwich. The author of The Swan and her Crew[2 - By Christopher Davies. London: Warne & Co.] tells us that 'the banks of the rivers are fringed with tall reeds, and they flow through miles of level marsh, where, as far as the eye can reach, there is nothing to be seen but the white sails of the yachts and the dark sails of the wherries, and occasional windmills, which are used for pumping the water out of the drains into the river.' Every here and there the rivers widen into broads, which are sometimes very large, and swarm with pike, perch, and numerous other fish. Those lakes are all very shallow, and can only be navigated by boats drawing little water; 'they are surrounded by a dense aquatic vegetation, reeds, rushes, flags, and bulrushes; and these are the haunts of many rare birds, and swarm with wild-fowl.'

With a view to navigating these shallow broads in an original way to facilitate the study of natural history, to hunt for the eggs of rare birds, to fish and shoot and otherwise investigate the wonders of the watery region, a boy of sixteen, named Frank Merivale, stands on the edge of Hickling Broad, deeply engaged in thought. At last a grand idea strikes him: he rushes up to the house, gets his father's permission to cut down a tree; and then laden with axes and ropes, he goes to get the help of his friend Jimmy Brett, who lives in an old-fashioned cottage near. The two boys proceed to the tree; and after long exertion, have the satisfaction of seeing the tall young larch fall over with a crash. Which business over, Jimmy insists on having his curiosity gratified by hearing what is to be done with the young larch; whereupon Frank unfolds his great project of building a yacht, a real yacht of their own, with which they might sail all over the broads and on the rivers, and naturalise and bird-nest, and enjoy no end of fun. The less sanguine Jimmy shakes his wise head; but Frank goes on with enthusiasm: 'What I propose is that we build a double yacht. We will make two long pontoons, and connect them by cross-pieces, on which we can lay a deck. Such a boat would not draw more than a foot of water; and to make her sail to windward, we should have a drop-keel or centre-board, which we could let down or draw up according to the depth of the water. Then I think a lug-sail and mizzen would suit her best; and we shall build her in old Bell's yard, and he will lend us such tools as we have not got.'

After a long discussion as to the plan and estimates of cost, the two would-be boat-builders, with a view to enlisting his aid, go on to see old Bell, who was a bit of a curiosity, uniting the two dissimilar trades of tailor and boat-builder. He was a close observer of the habits of animals, and could often give odd and useful information; and was a great favourite with the boys, as indeed they were with him. To this worthy they make known their grand scheme; and while not particularly sanguine of success, the old man promised to help as much as possible; and Frank in his impetuous way, at once begins clearing a space for the keel.

All the spare time is now spent in building the yacht; the two being joined by Dick Carlton, who being rather delicate, was encouraged by his father Sir Richard to join in the pastimes of his two young friends. First of all the pontoons are made, these being merely two long wooden boxes tapering off to a fine point at each end. Laid on the ground side by side, with a space of fully three feet between their centres, they are joined together by strong pieces of wood; while the seams are caulked with tow and a mixture of red and white lead, and protected by slips of wood nailed along them. The deck is next laid, and 'neatly finished off round the edges, with a bulwark of rope stretched on iron uprights.' A tiny cabin is erected, in which even the smallest of the crew will be unable to stand erect; but yachtsmen have to put up with many discomforts, and indeed a great deal of the pleasure consists in what is termed 'roughing it,' so three feet six inches is considered sufficiently lofty for the grand saloon. Two low broad seats are fitted up inside, which are also intended to serve as beds, should occasion require. A rudder and helm are attached to each pontoon, and connected by a cross-piece of wood, so that both might be worked at once; while two drop-keels occupy the space between the pontoons, and can be raised or lowered with the greatest ease. The mast also could be lowered whenever it might be necessary, in order to allow the boat to pass under low bridges.

To those who are interested in the details of such a craft as the Swan, the book furnishes ample information (full dimensions and all particulars being given). Suffice it to say, that after much perseverance and many grave difficulties, our amateur boat-builders, thanks to Frank's energy and skill, at length complete their work. The yacht is painted white; a tender in the shape of a punt is also built; and on a bright May morning all is ready for the launch, which important ceremony is fixed to take place at six o'clock on a Saturday morning. The three friends meet in Bell's yard, eager to send their handiwork upon the smooth glancing waters of the broad. But a name is yet wanting. 'Call her the Swan,' says Dick, remembering Wordsworth's lines; 'because, like the swan "on still Saint Mary's Lake," she will "float double."' The name is hailed with approval. The ceremony is most successful; and soon the craft floats out on the waves, and the three boys enjoy the rare pleasure of sailing in a boat of their very own making. A light wind springs up, which shortly increases to a pretty stiff breeze, and the Swan behaves to perfection, answering her helm so admirably that the three young sailors are as pleased and proud as possible at the result of their labours.

And now when fairly afloat, we find that the crew have a double object in view; first, a topographical investigation of the Broad-region; and second, the noting of whatever objects of interest in natural history the broads might hold. During a tack the yacht passed over a bed of rushes, displacing a nest of the crested grebe, from which a number of the eggs rolled off into the water. It looked just like a lump of rotting sea-weed; and to avoid detection, we are told that the bird covers its eggs with reeds, so that they are scarcely noticeable: thus strangely does instinct guide to safety. On nearing home, a heron is disturbed, which rises slowly, flapping his wings in the apparently lazy manner peculiar to that bird; but on counting, our young friends found that he flapped his wings no fewer than one hundred and twenty times in a minute!

The success of the first sail only causes a desire for more adventure and a longer cruise, perhaps for three weeks, so that the boys might fully test the capacities of the Swan, and explore all the rivers and broads of Norfolk. The consent of the respective fathers is easily obtained; but the mothers, with their usual fear of danger, are more difficult to persuade. Frank, however, arranged that they should all have a day's sailing, to see how safe it was; and choosing a fine bright day with a light breeze, the Swan floated so gaily, that neither Mrs Merivale nor Mrs Brett could find it in their hearts to oppose the scheme.

Accordingly by the end of May, a hammock is slung between the two low seats, to serve as a third bed; a gun, butterfly net, fishing materials, and plenty of provisions, are on board; and arranging to meet the seniors at Wroxham Bridge, the crew of the Swan set sail. In the middle of Heigham Sounds, there is a great bed of reeds, locally called a 'Rond,' into which the boat is run. All hands being on the watch, a whole flock of birds rises from the reeds – water-hens, coots, &c.; and then a little duck with a bright, chestnut-coloured head and breast. A teal; and the young naturalists, bent on finding its nest, spend a long time fruitlessly, but at length discover it in the very centre of the rond. Large and beautifully lined with feathers, it is found to hold twelve cream-coloured eggs, three of which our friends appropriate, and then proceed to shove off the ship. But alas! the Swan is firmly imbedded in the mud, and refuses to be moved. There was no help for it but to strip, and raising the craft, by using the oars as levers, endeavour to push her off into deep water; but it is hard work, and the three shew as black (with ooze) as negroes ere it is accomplished. At last she is afloat. Without waiting to dress, up go the sails, and being a quiet spot where they are not likely to meet in with vessels, they mean to bathe and dress at leisure. Suddenly, however, a sail appears – a yacht with a number of people on board! And here we are told that its occupants enjoyed a good laugh at the strange appearance of the Swan and her naked though mud-covered crew! Jimmy and Dick take refuge in the cabin; but poor Frank who (still garmentless) is steering, dares not leave his post; so without further ado, he springs into the water at the stern of the yacht, and holding on by the rudder, contrives to keep her on her course till Jimmy reappears with something thrown over him and takes hold of the tiller. Need it be said that the three lost no further time in restoring themselves to the white man's usual appearance!

Heigham Bridge is reached; and while the other two are engaged in lowering the mast, Dick pursues some orange-tip butterflies which are among the prettiest of the Lepidoptera, and look like a bunch of red and white rose petals flying through the air. Resuming their progress up the Bure, till St Benedict's Abbey is reached, where it was resolved to camp for the night, the Swan is run into a creek and made fast.

Night comes on, the wind howling drearily; and nothing to be seen but stretches of lonely marshes, fading away into the distance behind the deserted ruins of the abbey, which occupy the foreground. A sense of loneliness is felt, but not one of our fresh-water tars cares to own it, and each tries to assume a cheerfulness he is far from feeling. Suddenly an unearthly cry sounds from the ruins, and a white form is dimly seen to glide among its broken arches; visions of ghosts, even in this materialistic age, rise unbidden; but the phantom after all is but a harmless white owl. So fright gives place to laughter; the lamp is lit, and supper is made as cheerful as possible. Sleep, however, is coy. To our three young friends, nursed in luxurious homes, there is something rather disturbing in the noise of the waters, the howling of the wind, and the wild cry of the birds. A loud noise disturbs them, and rushing on deck, a belated wherry is seen beating up the river, her canvas making a great noise as they turned on a new tack. The men sing out 'Good-night' as they pass, which is a comforting, homelike greeting, and sleep is attempted once more. Anon a patter-patter is heard on deck; Frank turns out, and sees a stray coot, wandering about in search of the good things of life. Looking round he spies a strange wandering light flitting among the marshes; like a Will-o'-the-wisp it seems here and there, and then appears to vanish for a time. He rouses Jimmy and Dick, but neither can suggest a solution; so hastily throwing on some clothes, they take the punt and endeavour to reach the light. But it always eludes them; and after a fruitless search, they return to bed and court sleep more successfully than before.

Morning finds them determined to investigate the cause of the light, and while rowing about the creek for that purpose, a strange bird arrests their attention. It is standing on a hillock, and is indeed a most peculiar-looking creature, 'with a body like a thrush, but with long legs, a long bill, and staring eyes; a brown tuft of feathers on each side of the head, and a large flesh-coloured ruff of feathers round its neck.' While they are watching the bird, a man seizes and is about to kill the ruff (for such it is), when the boys run forward and entreat him to sell it. The man being a fowler and only wanting money, is glad enough to make a bargain; and then shews them the nest, made of coarse grass, and containing four olive-green eggs spotted with brown.

Hastening to the rendezvous at Wroxham Bridge our crew are greeted with: 'Well, boys, we thought you were lost.' 'No fear, father,' answers Frank; 'the Swan sails grandly, and we are having no end of fun;' and then to the anxious mothers' question as to how they have passed the night, the boys unanimously affirm that they have been most comfortable. Not one of them would shew even the faintest tip of the white-feather. Sailing about on Wroxham Broad, our young voyagers and their friends greatly enjoyed its beauty. On one side rich woods come down to the water's edge; and on the other, marshes stretch for miles and miles, with waving reeds, white cotton grasses, and many-coloured marsh grasses, which vary in tint and colour as the wind waves them or the cloud-shadows pass over them. Taking the punt, they explore a perfect labyrinth of dykes and pools, pushing their way among water-lilies and arrow-heads, and gathering many flowers of every hue; and after such a pleasant day, even the ladies are satisfied with the safety of the lads.

The following day our young friends see an unknown broad lying to leeward, and steer the Swan up the narrow channel leading to it. On goes the boat, regardless of a notice conspicuously placed at the entrance, stating that this broad belongs to Mr – , and with the usual finale, that 'All trespassers will be prosecuted.' All that is known of this Mr – is that he has a big blue yacht. It were difficult if not impossible to turn; and as they were in, they might as well take a look before leaving. Stolen waters are sweet, so this broad seems fairer than the others, and our young naturalists have a good time of it in exploring its many treasures. Hours pass; Mr – and his prohibition are entirely forgotten, until first the sails of a yacht are seen gliding up the entrance, and then the hull; when behold, it is the big blue yacht!

A chase ensues, which ends in the capture of the Swan; the curious build of which seems to have very much puzzled the formidable Mr – , who on hearing that the craft is of the boys' own building, is mollified at once, compliments them on their skill, and hearing of their love of natural history, he presents them with some eggs of the pin-tail duck, which rare bird had made its nest in one of the ronds.

Returning to open waters, and skimming along the margin of the land, a magnificent butterfly is seen sailing along. 'It was very large, four inches across the wings, which are of a pale creamy colour, barred and margined with blue and black, velvety in appearance, and with a well-defined tail to each of its under-wings, above which is a red spot. This peculiarity of tail gives it the name of the swallow-tail butterfly; and it is one of the most beautiful as well as rarest species.' The yacht is run ashore; but Dick on making too bold a dash with his net, misses the insect. Frank seizes the net, and gives chase to another which had come sailing along. He follows it for a considerable distance, and then disappears, crying loudly for help. Poor fellow! he had fallen into a bog-hole, and was being rapidly sucked down into the mud; but preserving calmness, he tells Dick to bring a rope, while Jimmy flings him his coat; alas! it does not reach him; and Frank is sinking to the shoulders, when Jimmy, in desperation, doffs his unmentionables, and Frank holds on by the one leg, while he manages to keep a grasp of the other, and so supports his friend till, to their great relief, Dick appears with the rope. But so tightly is Frank stuck in the mud, that it takes a mighty effort on the part of the others to haul him out. This must have been a sad damper, for we find our adventurous trio making their way back to the Swan silently and thoughtfully – to young bright spirits it being dreadful to be thus brought so near to danger and death. Frank, however, had managed to secure the butterfly for his collection, and kept it safe in spite of his perilous position; and it was preserved specially as a memento of his narrow escape.

As a relief from the monotony of sailing, our young friends propose a game of 'Follow my Leader.' On leaping a hedge, Frank's foot caught the top, and over he fell, right down on a quail's nest, smashing some of the eggs, and wounding the mother, a poor trembling bird, 'about eight inches long, rather plump, of a gray colour, and shaped much like a guinea-fowl.' A fight between a hawk and a weasel next attracts attention; after a prolonged struggle, the hawk falls a victim; and the boys, on gaining the spot, carry off both animals, as an interesting addition to their museum.

The wind having risen, the Swan sails in grand style to Yarmouth, where she is made fast outside a row of wherries moored to the quay, while her crew go on shore to inspect the quaint Dutch-looking town, which has been so often compared to a gridiron. Our young voyagers had determined on the morrow to sail up Breydon Water; and off they set, notwithstanding that the gale had increased in severity and the lake was covered with crested foam. Not a sail is to be seen on the stormy water; yet the Swan bravely accomplished the dangerous passage, and with the exception of 'shipping' seas and other unavoidable mishaps, they reached the smoother waters of the Waveney in safety. Skimming along for some miles, they anchor near Beccles, where a finely wooded bank holds out enticement for naturalising. There a hawk's nest is found, and two of the young ones are captured, our young friends intending to take them home and train them for the old English sport of falconry.

The days and weeks fly quickly, and bring new enjoyments and treasures; but we have not space even to mention a tithe of the spoils.

It will be interesting, however, to add that when winter bound the broads with ice, our young friends hit upon the plan of fastening skates to the Swan, and so propelling her from place to place. Raised on runners like large iron skates, and with ordinary skates on each rudder for steering power, away sped the Swan over the ice after the manner of ice-ships in Canada; until the return of milder weather restored her to the waves – bringing to her owners new stores of information with each cruise.

Although it is not given to every boy to be one of such a merry crew as that of the Swan, or to have opportunity for adventures such as those so graphically pictured in this volume, still there are many who, possessing certain opportunities, pass through the world with their eyes metaphorically shut. Irrespective, therefore, of the practical hints for the employment of leisure time, here presented to those who are qualified to profit by them, the moral lesson taught is, that even in spots looked upon by the great generality of people as 'uninteresting,' Nature is lavish of her charms for those who will take the trouble to woo them.

THE ROCKY BOULDERS OF CORNWALL

Piled on the lofty peaks of rugged Tors,
Strewn down the smooth hill-slope and river-side,
Scattered upon the lone and dreary moors,
These ponderous mammoth forms for aye abide.

Their cold gray hue at dawn's first livid beam
Is bathed in golden light as hours roll on,
And all bedecked they glow with purple gleam
When sunset warns us that the day is done.