The Story of Paul Boyton Voyages on All the Great Rivers of the World / Boyton, Paul, 1848-1914

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Title: The Story of Paul Boyton
       Voyages on All the Great Rivers of the World

Author: Paul Boyton

Release Date: September 9, 2006 [EBook #19230]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF PAUL BOYTON ***




Produced by Jerry Kuntz as part of the Lawson's Progress
Project. Digitization effort dedicated to Enid Fiatte.






THE STORY OF PAUL BOYTON

VOYAGES ON ALL THE GREAT RIVERS OF THE WORLD, PADDLING OVER TWENTY-FIVE
THOUSAND MILES IN A RUBBER DRESS

A RARE TALE OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE

THRILLING EXPERIENCES IN DISTANT LANDS, AMONG STRANGE PEOPLE. A BOOK FOR
BOYS, OLD AND YOUNG.

To my beloved and gentle wife, whose patience and help have enabled me
to present the public the story of my life. --Paul Boyton


CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.-On the Allegheny. First Attempt at navigation. The Grey
Eagle. Voyage on a coal fleet.

CHAPTER II.-College days. Bruce's dam. The Fort of the Wild Geese.

CHAPTER III.-In the U. S. Navy. A voyage to the West Indies. Diving for
treasure.

CHAPTER IV.-Wrecking with Captain Balbo. In the hull of a slaver. A
swarm of sharks. Joining the Mexican revolutionists.

CHAPTER V.-Entering the life saving service. Grateful people. In the
Franco-Prussian war. Failure of the Cuban expedition.

CHAPTER VI.-As a submarine diver. The Diamond fields of Africa. A
floating Hell. An escape at Malaga.

CHAPTER VII.-The rubber dress. Overboard from the steamer Queen. Landing
on the coast of Ireland.

CHAPTER VIII.-Arrival in Queenstown. The first lecture. In Dublin.
Appearance before Queen Victoria.

CHAPTER IX.-Voyage across the English Channel. Pigeon dispatches.
Landing in England.

CHAPTER X.-In Germany. A voyage down the Rhine. Through the whirlpool of
Lurlei. The press boat.

CHAPTER XI.-A short run on the Mississippi. The funny Negro pilot. Down
the Danube and the Po. Attacked by fever. Lucretia Borgia's castle.

CHAPTER XII.-Voyage on the Arno from Florence to Pisa. Narrow escape
over a fall. Down the Tiber to Rome. Across the bay of  Naples. Knighted
by King Victor Emmanuel.

CHAPTER XIII.-The Straits of Messina. Attacked by sharks. Whirlpools of
Scylla and Charybdis. Lake Trasimene.

CHAPTER XIV.-Quick voyage down the Rhone. The smugglers' chain. The
gambling palaces of Monte Carlo. Down the Loire. In the Quicksands.

CHAPTER XV.-On the mysterious Tagus from Toledo to Lisbon. Over great
falls and through dark canons. Ancient Moorish  masonry.  The villianous
brigands.

CHAPTER XVI.-From Europe to Africa, across the Straits of Gibraltar.
Preparing for sharks. Contrary currents and heavy  overfalls.  Landing
at Tangier.

CHAPTER XVII.-Paddling in the ice floes on the Allegheny. Down the Ohio
to Cairo. Queer characters. On  the  Mississippi.  Strange  sights  and
sounds. The comical darkies. Alligators. "Dead man in a boat."

CHAPTER XVIII.-Voyage on the Merrimac. Some peculiar people. A rough
trip down the Connecticut. Lost in a Snow Storm. A winter in Florida.

CHPATER XIX.-Off for South America. An officer in the Peruvian service.
Placing torpedoes. Caverns of the  sea.  Inca  Tombs.  An  escape  from
prison and rescue from a lonely island.

CHAPTER XX.-The Upper Mississippi. The German Doctor and the negro
boatman. Arrival at Cairo. Hunting and fishing.

CHAPTER XXI.-The longest voyage. Down the Yellowstone and Missouri.
Thrilling adventures through the  western  wilds.  In  the  tepees  of
the Indians. Caving banks, snags and mud sucks. Camp of the Rustlers.
Arrival in St. Louis.

CHAPTER XXII.-Hunting in Southern bayous. An interesting voyage down the
Arkansaw. Haytien insurgents. Down the Sacramento. A  night  on  Great
Salt Lake. Down the Hudson. In the ice on Lake Michigan. Catching seals.

CHAPTER XXIII.-Boyton to-day.




CHAPTER I.

One bright day in July, 1858, two women carrying well filled market
baskets, were crossing the old Hand Street bridge that spans the
Alleghany River between Pittsburgh and Alleghany City, Penn.

"Oh, Mrs. Boyton, do look at that child in the middle of the river
paddling around on a board."

"Well," said the one addressed as Mrs. Boyton, "I'm glad it is none of
mine. My son Paul, loves the water dearly, but I took the precaution  to
lock him up before I started for market."

After observing the child, who was evidently enjoying his aquatic sport,
for some time, the two women proceeded on their way. On reaching home,
Mrs. Boyton, with a feeling of remorse for keeping her young son so long
in captivity, went up stairs to release him, and to her  consternation
found that he had escaped. Three minutes later an excited woman stood on
bank of the Alleghany, vigorously waving  her  hand  and  hailing  the
youthful navigator. The forward end of the one by twelve inch board was
reluctantly headed for shore, and slowly idled in. As the child reached
land, he was grasped by the angry and anxious mother, who beat a merry
tattoo on a tender portion his body with a shingle.

This was not the first time that the young hero had received punishment
for loving the water. His home was within one block of  the  clear  and
swift flowing Alleghany; and whenever he could escape the vigilant eye
of his mother, he was found either on the bank or in the water. One day,
Mrs. Boyton, who had a continual dread of his being drowned, was going
on a visit, and she determined to secure Paul against accident. She took
him upstairs, undressed him and removed his clothes from the room. She
locked the door and went away content.

The day was lovely; the water lay clear and blue in sight and Paul could
hear the delighted  cries  of  the  boys  as  they  plunged  into  its
refreshing depths. The temperature was too strong. Paul searched the
room carefully and to his joy, discovered a pair of his father's
drawers. He got into them and tied the waist-string around his neck.
Then forcing a window, he slid down the  convenient  lightning  rod like
a  young monkey, and was found in his usual haunt by his astonished
mother some hours later. From this time on, she gave him more liberty to
follow  his natural bent. From early May until late in October, when not
at school, Paul spent most of his time in the water.

In those days, driftwood, consisting of slabs, logs and boards, were
continually floating down the river from the headwaters, where  the
great forests were being cut down. When he saw a nice piece of wood,
Paul would cut through the water like a young shark, and swim with it
ahead  of him to the shore, where his lumber pile was a goodly sized
one. He kept his mother's cellar well supplied with firewood and sold
the surplus to the neighbors; the proceeds of wich were devoted to
gingerbread and even at that early age to the abominable  roll  of
tobacco  known  as  the "Pittsburgh Stogie."

Great rafts of lumber were coming down the river daily and a favorite
amusement when he saw one, was to run up the river bank about  a quarter
of a mile, swim off and board it. In this way he became acquainted with
many of the hardy "buck-tail" boys who piloted the huge rafts down  the
river. His knowledge of the different bars that were formed by the
bridge piers was utilized, and often  proved  of  great assistance  to
his friends, the raftsmen. One day, he boarded a raft, the captain of
which was evidently a stranger to the channel in the vicinity of
Pittsburgh, and Paul saw that it was certain to run aground. He told the
captain and was so earnest in his manner, the course  was  ordered
changed.  Less than 500 yards further down, the ugly bar showed up not
five feet from the side of the raft, as it went gliding by. The
raftsman  insisted  on keeping the little fellow by his side until he
was safely moored to the Pittsburgh shore; then as a reward for  his
services,  presented  Paul with a little flat boat about twelve feet
long by five feet wide and ordered two of the crew to tow it with a
skiff to the Alleghany side.

The generous present was most joyfully and thankfully received, for
Paul's sole and only ambition for a long time had been to own  a  boat.
As the two sturdy oarsmen with the boat in tow, neared the Alleghany
shore, Paul stood erect in the stern,  his  eyes  shining  with  triumph
and satisfaction, and loudly hailed his playmates to come and see his
prize. It is safe to say, that no commander of  a  vessel,  ever  viewed
his craft with more pride, than Paul did his little flat-bottom boat. He
named her "Gray Eagle." He was ever tired of  overhauling,  scrubbing
and cleaning her. All the money realized by the capture of drift-wood,
was devoted to the purchase of paint. He selected and shipped  a  crew
from among his playmates. They were soon able to drive her where they
liked upon the river with long poles and paddles, and many a successful
battle royal was fought with their old enemies across the river, the
Pittsburgh boys. The "Gray Eagle" was generally  half  loaded  with
nice,  round stones that served as ammunition.

The "Eagle" would be carefully poled up the Alleghany shore against the
current, then headed out and vigorously paddled towards the  Pittsburgh
side. Nearing the enemies' headquarters a skirmish would be opened by a
shower of stones sent into their ranks. If the Pittsburghers  were  not
sufficiently numerous to repel the invasion, the "Gray Eagle" was
landed. The majority of the  crew  pursued  the  flying  enemy  up  the
back streets, while the balance remained and hastily loaded up the best
of the driftwood from the piles gathered by their  antagonists.  When
their cargo was secured, the skirmishers were called in. All leaped
aboard, and the "Eagle" headed  for  Alleghany,  where  the  wood  was
carefully stored, far beyond the reach of a probable invasion by the
Pittsburghers.

About this time a new enterprise opened for the commander and crew of
the "Gray Eagle." The city commenced to pave the streets with large
round stones called "Pavers," many of which were found in pockets at the
bottom of the river. One day a contractor met Paul on the bank and said:

"Say, son, could not you boys gather a lot of pavers? I will buy them
from you and give you thirty cents per hundred."

The offer was eagerly accepted. Next day the "Eagle" was anchored with a
piece of rail-road iron, over a pocket, and the crew engaged in diving
through the transparent water to the bottom, where they would gather one
or two pavers, return to the top, and drop them into  the  boat.  Paul
had much difficulty in teaching his companions to keep their eyes open
while under water. This occupation  was  pursued  with  varying  success
during the summer months of '59. The contractor came down every week to
cart the "pavers" away; and many a dispute the boys had with  him  over
the count. The dispute was generally decided by the carts driving off,
and the contractor paying whatever he pleased.  The  boys  discovered  a
rich pocket right near the old Aqueduct bridge. They worked it
enthusiastically and were loath to leave such a find, until they had
overloaded the Eagle. When all the divers climbed aboard, the additional
weight almost swamped her. The strongest swimmers were compelled to go
overboard and resting their hands gently on the gunwale, they propelled
her by swimming toward the shore. They had not proceeded far when the
bottom  of the well-worn "Eagle" fell out and the cargo disappeared.
While the boys hung on to the framework of their wrecked craft, their
enemies  across the river observed their predicament and sallied forth
in a skiff to chastise them. The Alleghany boys swam for their own shore
as  rapidly  as possible. On gaining shallow water, they faced about on
their assailants and a battle was fought that was long remembered by the
inhabitants on both sides of the river. In the meantime, the wreck of
the "Gray Eagle" floated gently down to the Ohio, where the powerful
current  caught  it and hurried it off to the southward.

After the loss of the "Eagle" the boys resumed their old sport of
swimming and  gathering  wood.  About  this  time,  owing  no  doubt  to
the complaints of the riverside inhabitants, the city authorities
determined to stop all further rows and displays of nudity.  The  orders
against naked bathing were strictly enforced by a constable named Sam
Long. Before the boys got thoroughly acquainted with him, he  often
captured  an offender's clothing, which he detained until the boy came
ashore. Then Sam would escort him to the Mayor's office to receive a
stern reprimand, or his parents would be compelled to pay a small fine.
Paul was never caught, for he was always on the outlook for the watchful
Sam.  On  the constable's approach he would swim rapidly to his wardrobe
which always lay conveniently close to the water. As  it was  neither
weighty  nor large, he would pile it on his head, tie it with a string
under his chin; then swim swiftly off to the first pier of the bridge.
This was fully fifty yards out in the stream, and here Paul would sit on
the abutment rocks until Sam's patience was worn out and he would
depart.  Then  Paul would swim leisurely to the shore, dress himself and
go home.

Paul's elder brother, Michael, was a studious sedate boy who took no
pleasure in the sports and adventures of his aquatic brother.  But
Paul's glowing descriptions of the pleasures of plunging and paddling in
the cool, clear river, at last induced Michael to join in the watery
gambols. One warm afternoon he accompanied his brother to the riverside.
Paul slipped out of  his  clothes  and  was  soon  disporting  himself
in  the refreshing water, while he shouted encouraging remarks to his
hesitating brother to follow his example. Michael slowly disrobed and
cautiously stepped into the water. He was no swimmer; but being
surrounded by Paul and his companions, he grew bolder, waded farther out
from shore, where he was soon enjoying himself as heartily as any of
them.

Suddenly the cry of "Sam Long" was raised. Many of the boys seized their
clothing and disappeared in the direction of their homes. The  hardier
swimmers, with Paul, struck out for the abutment on the pier in their
usual way and poor  Michael  was  left  alone.  Sam  gently  gathered up
Michael's clothes, and retired to a lumber pile where he leisurely
seated himself and waited for the owner to land. Michael had often heard
of the terrible Sam Long so he did not go ashore, though Sam called him
frequently. At last growing weary, the  constable  walked  away  with
the captured wardrobe. As he disappeared, Michael started on a dead run
for home. His clothes were recovered; but it was some time  before
Michael was inclined to calculate how many cubic feet of bread Paul
would consume in a week, or to reckon how much time he lost  from  his
studies  by going into the water, as had been his custom. It is needless
to add that it was many moons ere Michael went swimming again.

It was the custom then, as it is at present, to run enormous tows of
coal barges, propelled by a powerful tug, from Pittsburgh to New
Orleans. These grim and heavily loaded fleets had an intense fascination
for young Paul. Many and many a day he spent in assisting the inland
sailors in lashing boat to boat and diving overboard after spars, etc.,
that had slipped into the river. He often dreamt of the  time  when  he
would  be large enough to go down the mighty Ohio and the great
Mississippi. He made many friends among the coal men and eagerly
devoured  their  stories of danger, of voyages down the river and of the
comical "darkies" in the far off south. Time after time he implored
permission from his  mother to go away on one of those barge trips, but
she would never consent. One day while assisting as usual on a fleet
that was about  to  depart,  a great, dark whiskered man named Tom, who
was his particular friend, said: "Why don't you come with us, Paul? We
will take good care of you  and bring you safe hme again."

The temptation was strong, but the thought of his anxious mother
deterred him. Tom  still  urged  and  the  wonderful  stories  he  told
about brilliant New Orleans and the mighty "Father of Waters" rapt
Paul's attention so that he did not at first notice that the tug  "Red
Lion"  was driving the huge fleet of barges ahead of her. Would he jump
into the river and swin ashore or would he go ahead?

"He who hesitates, is lost."

"Paul remained on board. Tom took him to the lookout far ahead on the
tow and Paul forgot all about home and gave himself up to the delight of
watching the swiftly passing banks while he listened to the swish, swish
of the water as it beat against the bows of the barges. He was seated
with the men on the watch, who passed the time telling stories and
laughing at rough jokes. When it was getting late his big friend Tom,
said:

"Now Paul, it's time you turned in. There's your bunk," pointing to a
shelf in the dark and damp look-out house. Paul prepared to retire while
the men continued their stories. The river-men of that time were rather
given to profanity, so their yarns were freely interspersed with oaths.
Suddenly Tom said in a loud whisper:

"Dry up! Don't you see the youngster is saying his prayers?"

A hush fell on the group, all looked around. Paul, kneeling on the damp,
dirty beam alongside his bunk, was repeating the  prayers  learned  at
his mother's knee.

With the return of daylight, the remorseful feeling of a runaway boy
came strongly upon him and Paul thoroughly realized how cruel he had
been to his dear mother. He begged his friend Tom to get him back or to
send a letter home. Tom dissuaded him from returning, but helped him
write a letter which was posted at Wheeling, Va. This informed his
mother that he was safe and would be taken good care of. Much relieved
in mind, Paul was soon enjoying again the beautiful scenery and bright
sunshine along the Ohio. His work was to carry the coffee to the forward
men  on  the lookout, and to help in many other little ways.

When nearing Evansville, Indiana, about seven hundred miles below
Pittsburgh, a great shock was felt on the fleet, and a  shower  of  coal
was sent flying into the air. The cry "Snag! Snag!" was heard on all
sides, the big engines of the "Red Lion" were stopped  and  reversed and
the headway of the fleet was checked, as it slowly swung to the shore.
All hands rushed to the damaged barge and found that a snag, a sunken
log, had penetrated the bottom. Fearing that she would go down and drag
other barges with her, she was detached and a line passed to the shore,
then luckily near. A crew shoveled the coal from the ugly rent. The snag
was cut away and vain attempts were made to pass a tarpaulin under  and
so stop the hole. Paul stood near his friend Tom, and suggested that he
dive under, take a rope with him, and so enable them  to  pass  a
canvass below.

"Do you think you can do it without drowning?" said Tom.

"I am certain," was the response.

Tom handed him the end of a rope. Without hesitation Paul sprang into
the water and dove under the then sinking barge. The rope was  hauled up
and another passed to him with which he repeated the operation. Two
ropes were fastened to the  tarpaulin,  two  more  fastened  to  the
other corners. The canvas was lowered into the river and the men on the
opposite side hauled it under the ragged hole. As the canvas covered it,
the inflow of water was instantly checked. With a loud cheer, the crew
sprang to the pumps. When the water got low enough,  the  carpenters
nailed planks over the hole. The barge and the valuable cargo of coal
were saved. In less than three hours from the time  the  snag  had
struck,  the injured barge was again lashed to the fleet and on her way
down the Ohio. Paul was the hero of the hour. The Captain of the "Red
Lion" solemnly transferred him from his damp and grimy quarters on the
head to the comfortable cabin and pilot house. He confessed to the kind
Captain that he had run away from home and how anxious he was about his
mother. That day the Captain wrote a glowing letter to Mrs. Boyton  and
posted  it  at Paducah, Kentucky. From that time, he took great pleasure
in teaching Paul how to steer, and many  other  arts  in  river  craft.
Paul  keenly enjoyed this first voyage down the Mississippi. The strange
scenes on the river were of deep interest; but  he  never  tired  of
watching  the slaves, either at work in the fields, or at play on the
banks of an evening.

At last the "Red Lion" and her tow were safely moored at New Orleans.
The Captain found a letter waiting from Mrs. Boyton requesting that Paul
be sent back by the first mail packet. While waiting her departure, the
Captain took Paul out to see the  great  city.  Among  many  places of
interest they visited that day, the slave mart at the foot of the fine
statue erected in honor of Henry Clay,  lived  long  in  Paul's memory.
Numbers of slaves were to be sold. The Captain and Paul pushed their way
well to the front, so  that  they  stood  near  the auctioneer.  With
feelings hard to describe, Paul saw slaves disposed of, singly and in
parties. Fathers, mothers, sons and daughters were bid for and sold,
and the critical purchasers examined them as if they were prize cattle.
While the sale proceeded, Paul spelled out the inscription on the
monument which said "that if he (Henry Clay,) could be instrumental in
eradicating this deepest stain, slavery, from our country, he  would  be
prouder than if he enjoyed the triumphs of a great conqueror." Even to
his childish mind this seemed sadly inconsistent  with  the
surroundings.  The auction concluded with the sale of three boys, who
seemed to be brothers, or at least close friends for they wept bitterly
when parted. As they moved away, Paul's eyes were full of tears at the
agony of the unhappy creatures, and turning to the Captain he said:

"Do you think this is right?"

"No," responded the Captain, "I'm darned if I do. It is an outrage and a
shame that human beings should be sold like cattle,  but--Great Scott!
Did you notice what big prices they brought?" then added reflectively;
"I'm blessed if it wouldn't pay me better to run a cargo of them down
from Pittsburgh, than a tow of coal barges!"

Late that evening the Captain and Paul returned. As they approached,
they saw an excited crowd, pushing their way through near the  boat.
They met the mate on the gang-plank keeping the people back.

"What's the matter?" demanded the Captain.

The mate explained that there had been a fight on the levee, and that
big Tom had been stabbed, he feared fatally. Paul rushed into  the cabin
where his friend lay helpless and gasping.

"Tom, Tom!" he wailed.

"Ah! Paul, my boy," faintly responded Tom, "I fear I'm about to slip my
cable. I want you lo help me say a few prayers. Just ask the good  Lord
not to be hard on me. I've been rough and careless all my life, but I
never meant to be really bad. You talk for me."

The doctor came in and pushed the weeping Paul aside. One half hour
later Tom had quietly floated out to eternity.

No one knew his full name or where his people were, so next day they
buried him, the entire crew attending the funeral, and  fervent  were
the prayers poured out then and often afterwards by little Paul for the
friend so much beloved and so deeply mourned.

The Captain secured passage for Paul on a Northern bound boat and bought
him many little presents ere wishing him God  speed.  Among  them  and
prized most highly, were two red birds and a young alligator. At five
o'clock that evening came the order: "All  aboard!  Haul  in  your gang-
planks!" Just then a weird musical chant was struck up by the slaves
working on the levee, which was answered by the boat's crew, as she
backed out into the river and headed away on her long northern trip.
Paul had snug quarters and spent much of his  time  feeding  the  red
birds  and playing with his alligator. He saw great fun ahead in the
tricks he hoped to spring on his sisters and friends with the cunning
little reptile. Whenever the boat made a landing, he was always on deck
watching the negroes, as they rolled bales of cotton down the steep
bluffs or struggled with the refractory hogs who refused to come aboard.
The loud commands and fierce oaths of the mate made him feel very
grateful that he was not a roustabout. About five weeks from the time he
had so thoughtlessly embarked on the coal fleet, he stood hesitatingly
half a  block  from  his mother's home, holding in his hand the cage
containing his red birds, while snugly stowed away in the bosom of his
shirt was his much cherished pet, the alligator. He was not sure of the
reception he would receive; but at length he steeled his nerves for
whatever was in store and made a rush for the house. The delighted
mother folded him in her arms and covered his face with kisses. His
brothers and sisters grouped around  with words of welcome for the
prodigal.

"Thank God that you are safe home again, dear Paul," exclaimed his
mother, as she embraced him again and again.

"But what's this?"

She started back, for she had felt something squirming inside of his
shirt.

"Oh, that's my dear little alligator," and Paul put in his hand and
pulled out his pet. His  sisters  ran  screaming  away.  His  mother
gazed sternly at him and said:

"Put out that ugly reptile!" Paul placed it tenderly on the floor beside
the red birds' cage and received from his fond mother a  well  merited
castigation. That evening, however, all was forgotten and Paul
entertained his family with stories of his adventures and was
doubtlessly looked upon by the little group, as a wonderful traveler or
a hardened young liar.

Paul's father, a traveling man, came home a few days after this. He had
a long consultation with his  wife  regarding  the  escapade  of  their
venturesome son. They came to the decision that they had better move
from the vicinity of the river and so wean him from his unnatural love
of the water. A week later found the family at the head of Federal
Street, about as far as they could get away from the river and still
remain  in the city. Paul spent his last night before moving on one of
his friends' woodpiles; (his own had been pirated during his absence,)
and bitterly bemoaned the fate that took him so far away from his
beloved element.

A rigid discipline was now pursued in regard to Paul. He was given a
certain space of time to go and return from  school.  After  that  he
was expected home and made to stay there. He studied hard all winter and
advanced rapidly. But he had to cross a bridge going to  and  coming
from school. He would always stop to gaze into the water he loved so
well, even if had to run to make up for lost  time.  Spring  came  on
and  the longing increased to enjoy again the piney smell of the newly
arrived rafts, to dive into the clear depths, and revisit  his  old
friends  the "pavers." He took off his shoes and felt the water's
temperature. "In two weeks," he thought with rapture, "In two weeks I
can take a plunge."

In less than two weeks he enjoyed this plunge and finally remembering
that he had to be at home by four o'clock, he scrambled onto a  raft and
discovered that his body was covered with some unknown, greasy, tar-like
substance. He could not get it off, and at last asked a raftsman, who
stood by, what it was:

"Why, son," answered the lumberman; "That is petroleum. Don't you know
that they struck oil at the head of the river and great  quantities  are
pouring into the Alleghany above. It will be a long time before the
river will be as clear as she used to be, and you, my little man, will
have a nice job getting that off your skin."

When Paul reached home, his mother's scrutiny revealed the fact that
something was wrong.

"Have you been swimming again, despite your promise?"

Paul murmured something that might be either "yes" or "no." His hat
removed, showed his hair quite damp further investigation revealed the
fact that his shirt was on wrong side out, while round his neck was a
well defined dark line from the oil cakes he struck while swimming
against the stream. His sister Teresa revenged herself that evening for
many a raid on her dolls by scrubbing him into the appearance of a
boiled  lobster, so that he would be neat and presentable for school
next day. Even this lesson did not teach him. One warm day while on his
way to  school,  he lingered so long on the bridge that the tower clock
struck ten, and then he argued that it would be useless to go until the
afternoon  session, when he could easily hoodwink his teacher with an
excuse. But the afternoon came, and  the  wild  boy  was  still  in  the
water,  too  deeply interested in the navigation of a plank to realize
that he was playing "hookey" and risking its shady consequences. About
two o'clock he  heard loud cries from the St. Clair Street bridge.
Looking up, he saw an excited crowd gathering. The object of their
excitement was a little boy who had waded out on a shallow bar above the
bridge until he had stumbled into deep water and was being carried away
by the  strong  current.  Paul caught one glimpse of him as he
disappeared and springing from his plank he swam out with a strong,
steady stroke to his assistance. The  crowd on the bridge shouted loud
cries of encouragement. As Paul reached the spot where the body went
down, he could find no traces of him. A man  on the bridge shouted:

"A little farther down! A little farther down! I can see him at the
bottom."

Paul swam in the direction indicated and at the cry, "there, there,"
dove to the bottom like a seal. He came directly on  the  body  which
was doubled up against a large boulder. He grasped it by the arm and
rose with it to the  surface.  Loud  ringing  cheers  from  the  crowd
above, encouraged him. He swam with one arm, supporting the body with
the other. They were being rapidly carried away down the  stream,  when
a  boat which had been sent out, reached the almost exhausted boy. Paul
and the unconscious boy were taken ashore and conveyed to the back  room
of  a saloon where a doctor soon revived both. He then proposed that,
some token of recognition should be presented by the  assembled  crowd
to  the brave little fellow who had made the rescue. Paul's hat was
taken and soon filled to the brim with silver. Then the two boys were
loaded  into an express wagon and escorted by a policeman, they started
for home. When the wagon reached the house of the boy  who  had  been
rescued,  the policeman lifted him out carefully and carried him in,
while the mother's affrighted cries alarmed the neighborhood. The
officer  assured  her that there was no danger, so she grew calmer and
helped to roll her son into a warm blanket and tuck him snugly in bed.
The  old  grandmother, who was blind, heard the story and asked that
Paul be brought to her. Her trembling hands were passed over his face
and head. She  blessed  him fervently and then to the delight of the
grinning urchins, looking in at the door and to Paul's intense
embarrassment, she kissed  him  several times. At last the policeman
told him to come on and Paul and his silver continued their homeward
journey. When Mrs. Boyton saw her truant  son under police escort, she
turned pale, but the officer called out, "Don't be frightened, ma'am,
he's all right. You ought to be  proud  of  this boy," and he told her
the story of the rescue and handed over the silver. The mother's eye's
beamed with pleasure as she listened. She  praised her gallant little
son and thanked the officer for his kindness. After he was gone she put
the silver carefully away and interviewed the  hero, as often before,
with a shingle.

"Not only for playing hookey," she said; "but for going into the water
at all."

The little fellow rescued that day is Thomas McCaffery, now a member of
the Alleghany City Fire Department. Many years afterwards he gave  Paul
a gold medal in remembrance of their first meeting.

In vacation Paul started out to look for work, for with all his wildness
he was industrious. He secured a place in a paper box factory  at  the
princely salary of fifty cents a week. His business was to lower great
packages of boxes from the upper story to the ground floor.  He  thought
how delightful it would be to go down himself on the rope. One day he
induced a small boy who worked near, pasting, to mind the windlass while
he descended by hanging on above the usual pits of boxes. The sensation
was novel and pleasing and it became exciting when the boy above leaned
over and shouted: "The boss is coming, look out for yourself. I'll have
to go." An instant later Paul and the boxes  crashed together  on  the
bottom floor. The proprietor dragged him out of the ruin he had made and
assisted him energetically to the street, without even the hint  of  a
recommendation.

As Paul slowly and painfully wended his way home, a lady called him:
"Little boy, do you want a job?" Paul said he did and was put to work.
He had to sprinkle the street and keep the brick sidewalk clean in front
of her house. He was happily aided by a long hose, so that he thoroughly
enjoyed his new work and gave entire satisfaction. About ten days after,
Mrs. C., his employer sent him to escort her son to  the house  of  a
relative living in Lawrenceburg, a village a few miles up the river from
Pittsburgh. She warned Paul to be careful of her little boy, who was a
delicate child about his own age and gave him street car fare to pay his
way up and down. Her last instructions were to  leave Harvey  at  his
aunt's and return as soon as possible. When Paul was about to take the
car back, he thought of a pleasanter way, one in which he could save his
car fare, too. So he went to the river where he selected a large sized
plank and a piece of driftwood for a paddle. Then  he  piloted  himself
down in safety and was back in time. A few days later, the trusty little
messenger was sent to Lawrenceburg to bring Harvey  home.  Instead  of
taking the cars as instructed, Paul induced his charge to go with him to
the river. The little boy was very timid and refused to  embark  on  a
steering oar that Paul found near the shore. A steering oar consists of
a plank securely pinned into a spar about thirty feet long and used  on
stern and bow of a raft to guide it. Paul at last half forcibly seated
him on a block of wood on the steering oar and  procuring  a  pole  they
started on their voyage. All went well until they had passed under the
old Aqueduct Bridge. Then a crowd of Pittsburgh boys who were in a skiff
recognized Paid as the leader of their enemies from Alleghany and opened
up hostilities. Paul bravely kept them off with his pole and  whenever
the chance offered propelled it nearer and nearer to his own side of the
river. When almost ashore they rammed the steering oar with the bow of
their skiff, struck Paul with the oar and tumbled poor Harvey into the
river. Paul never thought  of  himself;  but  seizing  the  son  of  his
aristocratic mistress, he swam in for the shore, then only a few feet
away. The Pittsburgh boys were satisfied with the prize they had
captured in the steering oar and towed it away to their own side of the
river. They were followed,  however,  by  a  shower  of  rocks  hurled
by  the infuriated Paul. A sad looking pair greeted the maid who
answered their ring. Paul turned young Harvey over to her, then sneaked
around to  the alley to await developments. Hearing loud lamentations
coming from the direction of Mrs. C.'s room, he started  for  home
where  he  told  his mother that the work was too severe for him and
fearing the lady would refuse to let him go, he left without bothering
her for a reference.

About this time the war of the rebellion broke out and the fever burned
fiercely in Pittsburgh and vicinity. Paul  longed  to  join  the  great
bodies of troops that were being hurried to the front, especially so,
when he saw boat loads of his old friends, the gallant  "buck-tail" boys
coming down the river to enlist. He spent all his spare time hanging
around the headquarters of the forming  regiments.  One  day  he asked
a recruiting officer if he needed a drummer boy. "You are pretty small,
sonny," said the soldier, "can you drum?" "No," said  Paul,  "but I  can
learn mighty quick." Pleased with the answer, the soldier took him to
his headquarters and said: "Here is a little volunteer." Paul was
closely questioned and untruthfully assured the officers in charge that
his mother would be glad to get rid of him.  That  night  he  was
enrolled  in Colonel Cass' Regiment. Next day he began his drum
practice, an exercise that was rudely interrupted by the appearance of
his mother, who  lead the "warrior bold" home by the ear.




CHAPTER II.

His parents now decided to send Paul away to school. The college they
selected was situated in the heart of the Alleghany Mountains about four
miles from the Pennsylvania Railroad. It was far from any water course
or river, and surrounded by a  dense  forest  of  pines.  Paul's mother
accompanied him to the college. She told the faculty of his peculiar
passion for the water and the dread she had of losing him. Mrs. Boyton
was assured that her boy would be taken good care of. Paul was permitted
to escort her as far as the village where she took the stage for the
rail road again. Their farewell was most affectionate. Paul cried
bitterly, not only for the parting from his mother whom he loved so
well, but  for the feeling that he was being exiled for all his crimes
and misdemeanors. The fall session had not yet begun so he had ample
time  to  become acquainted with the few boys who were already at the
college and to explore the dark pine woods that seemed a new world to
him.  Paul  inquired eagerly if there was any water in the vicinity. The
boys told him there was a place called  the  "swimming  hole"  about two
miles  from  the college. Next day he coaxed some of his companions to
show him the way. He found a pond,  little  larger  than  a  hole,
surrounded  by  heavy vegetation and inhabited by a colony of frogs. He
was soon swimming in its depths and had induced two or  three  of  the
boys  to  follow  his example. Day after day he visited the hole and
made out to enjoy a swim; but he always thought longingly of the far
off, bright Alleghany.

One day a teamster who sometimes came to the college, told Paul of a
sheet of water that was much larger than the swimming hole. He  called
it "Bruce's Dam." Next morning Paul and a Philadelphia boy named
Stockdale, who was his particular chum, obtained permission to go out of
bounds. They had managed during breakfast to appropriate a sufficient
supply of bread and butter for all day. They started out to find Bruce's
dam.  A long and weary tramp they had over the mountains. They turned
aside often to chase the gray squirrels that abounded in that country,
and  they wasted much time in a fruitless attempt to dig out a red fox,
that had crossed their path and shot down a hole in the ground. They
were so long reaching the dam that they thought they must have been
misdirected. They were about to return, when Paul suddenly said, "Hark!
I think  I  hear water!" They listened intently for a few seconds. A
sound again came through the woods. They struck out a little to the
right and were soon  at the long-sought, dam. It was a body of water
about one hundred yards wide and five hundred yards long. Enormous pine
stumps  protruded  through the surface. There was a miserable looking
saw-mill situated at the lower end. Two men were employed in drawing out
logs and  ripping  them  up into boards. Paul tittered a joyful cry as
he perceived that the water was both clear and deep. Hastily he divested
himself of his clothing and "Stockie" slowly followed his example. As
they stood naked on the bank, before their plunge, a snake shot out
almost from under then feet,  and swam gracefully over the surface to a
stump a little distance off. That was enough for "Stockie," who resumed
his clothes. Paul  did  not  like the idea of snakes in the water, still
he had traveled far for a swim and he was resolved to have it and so he
plunged headlong in.  Round  and round among the stumps he swam. He saw
several snakes and also a number of water lizards. After his bath, Paul
and "Stockie" went down  to  the mill and had some talk with the men
engaged there. The latter assured them that the snakes and water lizards
were  perfectly  harmless.  This restored "Stockie's" courage. He agreed
to try the water before leaving, provided Paul would go  in with  him.
The  two  chums  had  a  long, delightful swim and finally, as sunset
approached, they suddenly thought that they might be needed at the
college. It was dark  when  they  got back. They both received a severe
lecture for their long absence. Bruce's dam was several times revisited
and always with great  enjoyment.  At last vacation was over and these
pleasant pilgrimages came to an end. Paul kept the promise made to his
mother. During study  time  he  applied himself with all his energies to
the task before him and so rapidly increased his store of knowledge;
but, he was  also  learning  many  things outside the school room. The
loneliness and surroundings of the college increased the natural
wildness of  his  nature.  When  recreation  time approached, Paul would
pass the sign to the ever ready "Stockie." Then he would obtain
permission to leave the room on some  pretext,  and  the other, by some
clever maneuver, would soon be after him. Then down to the dark, cool
pine woods to visit their "figure four" traps  which  they had set in
different places to catch squirrels. This trap consisted of a square box
placed on a piece of board and set  with  a  little  wooden trigger.
When a squirrel would enter to get the walnut fastened inside, he would
spring the trap and would not succeed in cutting his  way  out before
his young captor's arrival. They would slip a pillow-case, furnished
unconsciously by the college, under one corner of the box,  turning it
off the bottom board until a little opening was made into the bag. The
squirrel of course would jump in, and was grabbed and  twisted  until it
was squeezed down to one corner. Then his captors would get a firm grip
on the back of his neck. If the squirrel proved to be a  young  one,
they would put on a collar and little chain, that they had always ready,
and keep him to train for a pet. Once  Paul  caught  a  gray  squirrel
kitten so small and young that he had to feed it on milk and crushed
walnuts. He called it May. The tiny creature lived in his pocket and
desk and shared his bed at night. It would sit on the off page of his
book whilst he studied and comb its little whiskers  and  brush  its
tail  in perfect contentment. Every one marveled at the affection of his
pet and at the control he had over it. Paul would let it loose in the
woods, it would run up a tree and at his call, "Come May," it would
return at once and with a chuckle drop into his pocket. Paul kept this
squirrel until after he had left college. The crowded streets of the
city seemed to bewilder it, and it jumped from his pocket to the
sidewalk. A man  passing struck it with a cane and killed it. Paul
grieved long over his pet; but from this experience he acquired a  great
control  over  animals  and always had a supply in hand to train. He
carried snakes and bugs and mice and lizards in his pockets and at one
time had a white rat that  came very near to filling the place of the
lost May. If the boys captured an old squirrel, they generally let it
go; but sometimes it  was  retained for another purpose.

It would be taken back to the college and that evening put down through
a knot hole in the study-hall floor. The hole was carefully covered  by
a small piece of board with the leg of Paul's desk to keep it down. Next
morning when all would be deep in their studies and a profound silence
filled the hall, Paul would quietly slip the board away from the hole.
Attracted by the light, the squirrel would soon come out.  The  studious
(?) boys who were posted, kept one eve on their books and one on the
hole. When the squirrel appeared, as it usually did in a short time
these would start up with well feigned cries of alarm. In a moment the
entire study-hall was in an uproar, all pursuing the bewildered
squirrel.  The first or second time this occurred, the staid professor
took active part in the exciting chase. The frequent recurrence of
squirrel  hunts  in the study-hall awakened suspicion in the minds of
the faculty. An investigation was made, Paul and Stockie were called to
the president's  room and interviewed regarding squirrels and their
habits. After this, the study-hall was no longer  disturbed  by  these
little  denizens  of  the forest.

About the last time that Paul went swimming to Bruce's dam, a decayed
thorn was driven into his foot, a portion  of  which  he  was  unable to
remove. This troubled him occasionally. During the month of November the
foot commenced to swell in an alarming manner. He had to remain in the
dormitory for over a week. While he was still an invalid, a box arrived
from home full of cakes, candies, preserves and many other goodies dear
to a school-boy's heart. In the box was also a present from his younger
brother. It had been packed in without the knowledge of his mother.  It
was a large Chinese firecracker. Paul carefully concealed this precious
gift until a grand occasion would come to fire it. At recess  many  of
the boys came up to see him, and incidentally to share in the delicasies
he had received. Stockie came also and told Paul that their crowd  had
discovered a tale-bearer in the person of a youth from Johnstown, Penn.
He wound up by adding:

"And how are we to fix him?"

Paul answered mysteriously: "Leave it to me. I have it; bring me all the
string you can find."

From day to day Stockie produced liberal supplies of the desired
article. No doubt most of it belonged to the boy whose  innocent pastime
was that of flying kites during recess. Paul wound this string firmly
and tightly around the Chinese cracker  until  it  had  assumed
considerable proportions. He argued on the principle that, if paper
resisted the force of the explosion, the additional binding of string
would cause a much louder one. The bomb was at last completed and
Stockie received a hint to keep his ears open for music that night. The
little iron bed  of  the doomed talebearer was not far distant from
Paul's, and between them was a stove in which burned a brisk fire every
night to drive out the chill mountain air. When all were asleep, Paul
slipped from his bed, and touched the fuse to the red hot side  of  the
stove.  Then  he  placed  the ignited bomb under the tell-tales bed and
hastily scrambled back to his own. He had just time to roll himself up
in the  blankets,  when  there was a flash and terrible explosion. The
bed of the tell-tale turned a  complete  somersault,  while  the  entire
building  trembled  with  the concussion and a shower of broken glass
was scattered around. No serious damage was done; but Paul was horrified
and frightened half  to  death at the result of his first essay with
explosives. The boys in the dormitory were only too glad of an excuse
for  excitement.  They  immediately began the usual battle with pillows
accompanied with the wildest yells and whoops, until they were suddenly
quieted  by  the  entrance  of  the officials. No one could find out the
culprit, so the investigation was postponed until morning. Classes were
suspended next day. Every student, including the invalid, was present in
the study-hall. The entire faculty sat in judgment. The  president
opened  the  meeting  with  a  severe lecture, during which he quoted
that it "was better that ten guilty ones should escape rather than that
one innocent person should suffer."  He called urgently upon the guilty
ones to stand up and declare themselves. His invitation was not
accepted.

"Now boys, you know that it is a strict dormitory rule that no one there
shall speak above a whisper. The noise you made last night  was  heard
distinctly in the village a mile away. All of you who did not break the
rule last night put up your hands."

Every boy's hand in the study hall was at once raised. The president
looked perplexed, and said: "Perhaps you  misunderstood  me.  To  make
it plain to you, I want every boy who did not raise his voice above a
whisper after retiring last night to stand up."

The first on their feet were Paul and Stockie, whose good example was
followed without any exception by every boy in the school. The president
was dumbfounded. He shook his head sadly. After a brief consultation
with the professors  he  remarked.  "The  young  men  now before  me
are grievously lacking either in understanding or veracity." Numerous
were the mishaps that befell Paul and his companion Stockie, owing  to
their love of wandering through the woods. When they were missed, a
professor was generally sent after the  fugitives.  In visiting  their
squirrel traps they often separated, Stockie examining one trap, Paul
another. They would appoint a place of rendezvous, close to some well
known  giant pine. The one to arrive first would call the other by a
loud whistle in close imitation of a  quail.  The  other would  answer
by  a  similar whistle. One day when about to mount the tree and give
his usual signal of recall, Paul discovered the professor, who had been
sent after them, approaching. Quickly he climbed into the tree and
concealed himself in the dense foliage. At this moment he heard
Stockie's  familiar  signal quite near the rendezvous, and to his
dismay, the professor, hidden behind a  tree  close  by,  repeated  the
quail  call,  thus  leading  the unsuspecting Stockie to his doom. As
Stockie neared the tree in which Paul was hidden, he  shouted:  "I've
got  two!"  The  professor  stepped forward and said: "I have one!"

Paul could distinctly over-hear the professor question Stockie in regard
to his chum's whereabouts, all knowledge of which the  latter  loyally
but untruthfully denied. He had grasped the situation at a glance. The
professor with his captive remained a long  while  and  the  latter  was
compelled to repeat the quail call time after time in hopes that the
other victim would respond. But the moaning of  the  pines  was  the
only answer. Finally the professor and his prisoner started for the
college. Paul slid down the tree and taking a shorter cut, was deep in
his books when they entered. Though strongly suspected, he escaped that
time, the poor captive receiving a double dose. Stockie was generally
unfortunate enough to get more than his share of punishment, but he was
thoroughly loyal to his friends and never murmured. It was customary,
when  a  boy had misbehaved himself or broken any rule, to send him to
the president's room where either reprimand or a thrashing awaited  him.
One  day  a professor called Stockie during recess and said:

"As you are a good, swift runner, I want you to go over to the
President's room and ask for his letters. I want to put them in  the
mail  bag. The coach will be starting in a few minutes."

The president was not in his room and Stockie availed himself of the
chance to view the pictures hanging around the walls.  The  president
had just made the discovery that several of the boys had utterly ruined
some growing tobacco that he had been experimenting on, so he  was  in
bad humor when he entered his sanctum.

"What! You here again?"

And without permitting the astonished Stockie to speak he began to
administer a severe thrashing. The door was  opened  by  the  professor
who wanted the mail.

"Has he been in mischief already? Why I told him a few moments ago to
come here and get  your  letters."  "Oh,"  exclaimed  the  president, "I
thought he had been sent here as usual, for punishment. Well, if he does
not deserve it now, he certainly will before the week is out."

Paul had organized a company of choice spirits who were known by the
title of the 'Wild  Geese'.  Each  member  named  himself  after  his
own particular hero, such as Dick Turpin, Jack Shepard, Capt.  Kidd  and
other  distinguished  gentleman  freebooters.  The  headquarters  of the
association was in an abandoned log house about three miles from the
college. On half holidays the  company  would  escape  out  of  bounds
by different ways and assemble at headquarters. The cabin consisted of
one large earthen floor room with a loft above. The stairs  leading  up
to this loft had been cut away and a light ladder that could be easily
hauled up, substituted. The aperture closed down by a rough trap door
made for the purpose. This was done to afford concealment, in case any
of the professors should come looking for them, or protection against a
rival organization of larger boys, known as the "Wild Hens." When the
company assembled, it was customary for Paul, who was their  chosen
chief,  to detail parties to different duties. While some would be
cutting and collecting wood to burn in the huge fire-place in the lower
story,  others would be off through the surrounding farms on a forage
for chickens, potatoes, apples, etc., etc.  All  the  money  in  the
society  would  be entrusted to a committee of the most reliable
members. These would be dispatched to the village store to  purchase
cheese,  crackers,  ginger-bread and other delicacies for the banquet.
The village store was owned by an old fellow by the name of Philip
Hardtsoe. He had  expelled  both Paul and Stockie from his territory on
account of an incident which had happened some time previous. The two
chums went in one day to buy a few cents worth of candy. They were
difficult to please and insisted that Philip should hand them some from
a jar on an upper shelf. While his back was turned Paul reached far into
a barrel where a few nice, red apples lay on the bottom. As he balanced
on his stomach over the chime  of  the barrel, Stockie saw his
opportunity for mischief and gave him a push that toppled him down on
his head. The noise caused  old  Philip  to  turn around. He thought the
lads only intended to fool him when they asked for the candy. He rushed
from behind the counter, easily capturing  Paul, who was helpless in the
barrel, while Stockie dashed through the door roaring with laughter.
This was the reason that Philip would never  allow either boy in his
store, so Paul and Stockie had to buy their candy by proxy.


But to return to the "Wild Geese." As the various committees reported,
they would find a roaring fire and everything  ready  for  cooking.  The
banquet table was generally prepared in the upper story or loft and
consisted of two long boards on trestles. The seats were  round  blocks
of wood. The chief luxuries of the banquet itself, besides the store
supplies, were chicken and  potatoes.  The  chickens  had  been prepared
by rolling them in mud; then baking them. When fully cooked the feathers
came off. A sharp knife ripped them open  and  the  baked entrails  were
easily removed. The potatoes were simply roasted in the hot ashes. The
commoner articles of the banquet menu, such as bread, butter,  salt  and
pepper were always appropriated from the college table. The first
banquet that ever took place in the old log cabin followed  the
election  of officers. Paul was unanimously elected chief and escorted
to the head of the table. Stockie and Billy O'Meara,  of Washington,  as
first  and second lieutenants, sat on either side. It is doubtful if
ever a pirate captain looked with more pride on  his gallant  crew,  or
if  a  real banquet was ever more thoroughly enjoyed by the
participants.


Several times during the winter the "Wild Geese" were attacked by the
"Wild Hens." They were always repulsed excepting one day when the latter
were re-enforced by an alien crowd. The "Wild Geese" defended their
cabin bravely, but, were driven foot by foot, until they wore compelled
to retreat to the loft and draw up the ladder. The lower portion of the
cabin was in full possession of the besiegers, who demolished
everything they could lay their hands on, with much gusto. They did
their utmost to pry up the trap door, but were beaten  back. Suddenly
to  the  "Wild Geese's" surprise, the lower part of the cabin was
abandoned by the Hens. They thought it a ruse to draw them out, so I
they lay quiet for some time. There were no windows in the loft. Bye and
bye Paul knocked a hole through the shingles of the roof. Protruding his
head he saw the  Hens in a wild flight towards the forest. He could see
no cause for this until he knocked a hole through the other side of the
cabin roof.  What  he beheld was not calculated to cheer his heart.
Eight or ten of the professors were almost on the cabin. There was no
time or chance  to  escape. Paul commanded all hands to lie down and
keep still while himself and lieutenants sat on the trap door. The house
was quickly  entered  by  the professors. Remarks such as "They must be
here," "The fire is still burning," "See the chicken feathers," etc.,
etc. ascended to the  trembling urchins above.


"Is there no loft or upper story?" said one finally.


"I don't think so," responded another; "There is no means of getting up
there. They have all left. Here is their trail in the snow  leading  to
the woods."


All would have been well with the "Wild Geese" had not the unlucky
Stockie at this moment, given a loud sneeze. At  which  some  of  the
minor members of the company giggled. The chief looked sternly at the
culprit. He saw Stockie about to repeat the involuntary sneeze and
grabbed  him by the nose and throat. Too late! The noise had been heard
below and the imperative command was given to "come down." Slowly the
trap-door  was opened and the ladder descended. Then a scuffle ensued to
see who would go down last. The consequence was that two or three of the
Geese  went down at the same time. Slowly and sorrowfully the prisoners
marched to the college where to add to their misery they beheld the
faces  of  the smiling and triumphant "Wild Hens." These had regained
"bounds" without being discovered and their loud cackling  grated
discordantly  on  the nerves of the late banqueters. That evening,
singly and in pairs were the "Wild Geese" called over and interviewed by
the president.  On  their return to the study hall their flushed faces
and reddened eyes accompanied by rapid, mysterious signals, gave warning
to the  waiting  ones  of the wrath to come. Paul and Stockie were the
last to be summoned. They found the president and the prefect of studies
in the star chamber.


"Be seated" was the brief command. "Do either of you know anything about
a secret organization called the 'Wild Geese'?"


The culprits saw that the customary denial of everything would not
answer in this case. They  acknowledged  that  they  had  heard  of such
a society. The President was satisfied that he had learned from the
other members about all the information that he needed, and that the
present interview would not add much to his knowledge, so he turned to
the two boys with a kindly smile and gave them a fatherly lecture on the
error of their ways. He urged them to promise that in the future they
would be more faithful  to  study  and  more  obedient  to  the rules
of  the institution. His kind tones made Paul and Stockie feel ashamed
and inspired them with the hope that this gentle lecture  would be
their  only punishment. They glanced congratulations at each other out
of the corners of their eyes.


"Now boys," said the president in conclusion, "you have promised me
faithfully to mend your conduct. To keep this promise fresh in your
memory, I have something to give you. My motto is to leave the best for
the last,  so  Master  Paul  will  retain  his  seat.  Take  off  your
jacket, Stockdale."


Disappointment and dismay were depicted on the two faces. Stockie made
many fruitless attempts to unbutton his jacket, unbuttoning two  buttons
and buttoning one. At last the president's patience gave out and he
rushed on his victim with the strap. Now, in the room was an  old-
fashioned bed, in which ropes were fastened from side to side, in lieu
of slats. To escape the strap, Stockie dove under this bed. The
president, who was somewhat rheumatic, could not reach him very well, so
he called upon the prefect and Paul to assist him in removing the bed.
They moved it from side to side around the room in vain, for Stockie was
holding on to the bed cords. Paul felt like an executioner to his
friend;  but  life  is sweet. He glanced furtively at the prefect and
saw him convulsed with smothered laughter. The  president  made  frantic
attempts  to  dislodge Stockie and Paul dashed through the door to
liberty. Later, Stockie appeared and cheered Paul with the information
that  his  punishment  would come when he had gone to bed. Paul looked
the situation over and at last thought of a plan of escape. He sent
Stockie into the hall to call out an unsuspicious youth whom he named.
This boy soon appeared and Paul told him all about the tribulations of
the "Wild Geese." He  said  he  was certain he knew the informer, the
villain who had brought all this dire disaster. He had a plan to punish
the tale-bearer.  He  would  like  to exchange beds that night with his
listener, so that he would be near the villain's bed. Then he would put
a handful  of  red  pepper  over  the mouth and nose while he snored.
Was his friend willing? His friend thought the cause a just one and
readily agreed to the proposed arrangement. That night the innocent
youth slipped into Paul's bed and the avenger joyfully nestled in his,
at the other side of  the  dormitory.  About  an hour after the boys had
retired, a tall figure, with stealthy step passed in the direction of
Paul's bed. There was a  suppressed  scuffle  and the clear sound of a
strap coming in contact with its victim, while a low, stern voice was
heard saving: "Not a word sir;  not  a  word.  Don't dare to raise your
voice above a whisper. You deserve it all and more." After a few moments
Professor Justice retired with  the  same  stealthy step. There was
convulsive sobbing in Chief Paul's bed, and the other boys covered their
heads with  their  blankets  in  dread  of  a  similar visitation.


The boy who suffered that night is now a brilliant judge and well known
politician. But he always  believed  that  he  had  been  punished  for
changing beds and wondered not a little that his companion had escaped
similar castigation.


The boys were obliged to rise very early in the morning. The first duty
of the day was to proceed to the  chapel  for  prayers,  and  religious
instruction. But many of the lads preferred to gather around the red hot
stove of the study hall where they could tend to their devotions  with
more liberty and comfort than in the chilly chapel. If they were missed,
a professor was sent to ascertain their whereabouts. He was  generally
discovered in time by the boy detailed by his companions as look out.
The study hall and dormitories formed a building separate from  the rest
of the college. As the professor approached from the main building, the
boys would leap from the low windows of the study hall into  the snow.
Sometimes the professor was suspicious and would reconnoiter outside the
study hall; but the boys were alert and as he passed around a corner,
they would get around another and so they often escaped to the chapel.
One morning the president missed  several  of  his jewels  and  started
himself for the study hall determined	to capture them. As usual, the
boys clambered through the windows and  escaped  in different
directions always keeping the hall between them and their pursuer.
Stockie, Billy O'Meara and Paul adopted the old rule of sneaking away
from  one  corner of the hall, while the president advanced around
another. The pursuit was very close, for the president was sure from the
tracks in  the  snow, that some of the boys were dodging him.


Stockie and O'Meara broke for the shelter of another building; but Paul
continued to dodge around the study hall. Once the president failed  to
appear at the expected corner. Paul feared that he might be doubling on
him and so crept cautiously on all fours back to the corner he had left
to take a look around that side of the building. As he warily put his
head out to take the observation it came in hard contact with that of
the president, who had adopted Paul's own tactics to catch him. The
situation was so ludicrous that even that austere gentlemen burst out
laughing and Paul scampered away to the chapel.


A favorite resort for the boys during winter weather was a barn where
they had rare sport tumbling over the great  quantities  of  hay  in the
loft. A party of them were one day enjoying this pastime, when a stern
voice below commanded them to "descend immediately," supplemented by the
ominous and oft repeated expression, "I know you all, I, have your
names." Some of the boys descended, but Paul and four  companions
clambered out on the roof of a wagon shed. This roof was very steep and
was covered with about three feet of snow. Here they squatted  down  and
awaited results. The professor took the names of the boys who had
descended and ordered them to the study hall. This gentleman, by the
way,  was  very successful in discovering culprits, and was known
facetiously by the boys as the "blood-hound." He was sure he had not
found all  the  truants, but he saw they were not in the loft, so he
began a tour outside of the barn to ascertain how they had escaped.
Slowly  he  walked  around  the wagon shed carefully scrutinizing every
place in which he thought they might be concealed. The snow, loosened by
the heat and extra  weight  of the unlucky boys, gave way and
precipitated them over the head and shoulders of the astounded
professor.


One form of punishment inflicted by the faculty was termed "corrence."
The culprit was deprived of his meals mid compelled to remain  at  study
in the hall while the others enjoyed their repast. This was a severe
punishment to healthy, growing boys, whose appetites were whetted by the
keen mountain air. On the "corrence" list one day appeared the names of
William O'Meara and Paul Boyton. This  was  no  infrequent occurrence.
These boys did not seem much distressed. There was a secret
understanding among the then suppressed "Wild Geese"  that  none  of
their  number should suffer the pangs of hunger while provisions could
be  obtained  from  the  table.  The  faculty  must  have  found  out
this  fraternal understanding, for on the day in question every boy was
examined as he left the refectory and everything eatable in his
possession confiscated. The day was hard for Billy and Paul. By night
they were wild with hunger and vowed to make a raid  on  the  kitchen or
die.  The  kitchen  in question was in the deep basement of the main
building, lit up by small windows fully six feet above the floor. When
the  cooks  had  retired, Billy and Paul made their way to one of these
windows. They pried it open. Paul persuaded his companion to crawl into
the  window  head  first, while he lowered him by holding on to his legs
and feet. He instructed Billy that when the floor was reached he could
with the aid of  a  chair easily pass out the much needed supplies.
Billy began his descent. When lowered as far as Paul could reach he
said:


"I can't feel the floor, pull me up."


Just then there was a deep growl heard in the kitchen and footsteps
approaching from the outside. Paul did not have time or  strength  to
haul Billy up again, so letting him go by the run, he started to his
feet and disappeared in the darkness. Billy was seized by a large
Newfoundland dog that held him fast until discovered by the cooks who
came down to find out the cause of the noise.


The refectory of the college was a long, narrow room with a table
extending its entire length. Each boy was supposed to stand in his place
with folded hands and bowed head, while grace was being said by the
professor at the end of the table. But such keen appetites could hardly
wait for the blessing to be called. While one hand was devoutly raised,
in case the professor would look down along the table, the other grasped
a  fork and all eyes were fixed of the dishes of meat. Smothered
exclamations of "That's my piece with the fat;" "The middle piece is
mine,"  "I  like the lean," etc., passed along the line. As the amen
rang out, every fork was darted into the longed for meat, as  a  harpoon
is  sent  into  a whale.

Not far from the college lived an irascible old gentleman who owned a
rich farm and some very fine horses of which he took  great  pride. Paul
and his chums looked on these lovely animals with envious eyes, and
often wished that they could capture one and enjoy a ride. One day
Stockie and Paul went to the woods at the bottom of a field that led by
a gentle ascent to the farm house. They had with them a pillow-slip half
full of oats. They were trying to induce a magnificent looking colt to
approach them. The colt was shy, but the oats were  tempting. He  came
near enough to taste them and submitted gently to the boy's caresses and
even permitted them to lead him around by the forelock. "Now Stockie,"
said Paul, "I will hold him by the nose and mane. You jump from that
stump and take the first ride."

With a spring, Stockie mounted the animal's back. The colt broke from
Paul and dashed madly away, Stockie clinging  to  him  like  a  cat. The
creature never stopped in its mad career until it had reached the farm
yard. With a terrific leap it unseated Stockie,  who  tumbled uninjured
but paralyzed with fear, into a pile of manure from which he was dragged
by the enraged farmer. As his friend disappeared, Paul made a  beeline
for the college. Soon after poor Stockie was brought in by the farmer
and delivered into the hands of the president. It was  some time  before
the victim was able to sit at his desk with any degree of comfort.

With such adventures as these, two years of college life glided by and
then the parting came. Paul had progressed rapidly in  his  classes  for
his was a character that applied itself to books, as devotedly as it did
to play. His best loved study was navigation, and he  often  surprised
the gray-haired old professor by his knowledge in this quarter. His
open, fearless nature had endeared him to  his  teachers  and  despite
the punishments; he had learned to love the college life so his going
was viewed with regret by both sides. The college was  in  its  infancy
when Paul's name was on the pupil's roll. He returned to visit it some
years ago, to find it grown into one of the great educational
institutions of the land. Many of our brightest and best men lovingly
roll it their Alma Mater. The venerable president received him with open
arms.  He  put Paul's picture in his gallery of the boys who were a
credit to the institution, and both talked over old times and  life's
many  changes  with emotion, and laughed heartily over certain well
remembered experiences. Paul felt a deep pang of remorse at the praise
and the welcome, for his memory bore another record.

During Paul's sojourn at college, his family had moved from Alleghany to
New York. His father was an importer  of  sea-shells,  corals,  marine
curiosities anal oriental goods, of which he made annual sales in the
chief cities of the country. He took Paul with him and gave him the
first lesson in business. Travel suited Paul immensely; but business was
irksome and the civil  war  was  still  raging.  Stirring  accounts  of
the conflicts in the south, and the martial air that pervaded the entire
country, filled Paul's soul with longing to go to the front.




CHAPTER III.

On the morning of April 15th, 1864, young Boyton presented himself at
the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and was enrolled in the United States Navy  as a
sailor before the mast. After a few weeks drilling he was transferred to
the United States Steamer, Hydrangea, Captain W.  Rogers  in command.
Paul was now in his fifteenth year. He had no difficulty in passing the
scrutiny of the enlisting officers. He was of a powerful build and very
muscular. His outdoor life in the woods and on the river made him look
older than he really was. The Hydrangea was ordered to Fortress  Monroe,
and Paul received his baptism of fire while the steamer was running up
the James river past Malvern  Hill,  where  a confederate  battery  was
stationed. Much has been written about the war, and as this is simply a
story of adventure, it will be left to better  writers  to  record  war
history many of whom have already described scenes enacted in that
vicinity during the year 1864. The last engagement  Paul  was  in,  was
the memorable assault on Fort Fisher. When the war closed, he was
mustered out. At that time he held the position of yeoman.

Mr. Boyton discovered that Paul did not have much aptitude for
commercial pursuits, so he sent him to  the  West  Indies  for  the
purpose  of collecting and shipping all kinds of marine curiosities.
Paul's companion was a submarine diver whom his father had engaged. They
took  passage on the bark, "Reindeer," bound for the Barbadoes. They had
all kinds of the latest dredging apparatus, including submarine armor
and  pumps  in their outfit. After a tedious voyage of twenty-seven
days, the "Reindeer" cast anchor in Bridgetown. Paul and the diver,
whose  name  was  Tom Scott, were kindly welcomed by the merchant, an
old friend of Mr. Boyton's, to whom they carried letters of
introduction.

His father's instructions were to charter a fishing boat, or some
suitable vessel at Bridgetown for a six month's cruise  among  the  keys
and islands surrounding, for the purpose of fishing up coral, shells and
other curios that he could gather. A few  days  after  his  arrival,
Paul engaged a staunch little sloop commanded by a negro, who was
assisted by four strong sailors also colored, as crew. The first cruise
was around the island of Barbadoes. Several curios were collected and
purchased and a goodly shipment sent back by the "Reindeer." When he
received  them and read Paul's accompanying letter, Mr. Boyton was
satisfied that his son was now engaged in  a  business  that  thoroughly
suited  him.  The Cayosa, for such was the name of the little sloop, was
then provisioned for a voyage to the group of islands that  lay  to  the
westward,  and where it was said rare shells would be found. For a small
consideration the captain had agreed to bunk forward with crew, leaving
Tom Scott and Paul his little cabin all to themselves. This cabin was
thoroughly scrubbed and cleaned by the pair, after which they fitted it
up  and  placed therein their baggage, rifles, fishing gear, plenty of
reading matter and their private stores.

While in port, Paul remained the guest of Mr. C., the merchant, whose
home was a beautiful villa situated a little way out of town. The merry,
bright-eyed daughters of his host made sad havoc in the susceptible
heart of young Boyton. At last all the stores were  aboard and
everything was ready. One bright morning the anchor was weighed, and the
sloop stood away on her cruise to the island of  Vincent,  which lay
about  one hundred miles to the westward. During this voyage a heavy
tornado tested the little sloop to her utmost. She was driven far out of
her  course. It was four days ere they reached Kingston on the southward
of the island, instead of Richmond whither they were bound. They spent a
few  days in the quaint, old town and picked up several curiosities. The
sloop was then headed for the Cariacou islands, a large  group  which
dot  the ocean between St. Vincent and Granada. Many of these islands
are uninhabited by human beings. They are low and loaded down to the
water's  edge with rich, tropical vegetation. The sloop spent six weeks
in this group. Every available part of the boat was packed with coral
and  all  kinds of curiosities. A run was then made to Charlottetown,
Granada, where the collection was discharged, cleaned and packed in
hogsheads  all  ready for the first boat that would call, bound for New
York. Here the sloop was again provisioned, then she set out for  Tobago
about  one  hundred miles southeast. A cruise was made around the entire
island, but the collection was not remunerative. The sloop was then
headed  to  Trinidad, and along the north coast, valuable specimens were
picked up. In this same locality they struck on a reef of exquisite
brain coral, with  which they loaded the sloop. Sail was then made for
Port of Spain, the principal town of the island. In going through the
Dragon's Mouth,  a  narrow, dangerous passage between the mainland of
South America and Trinidad, the Cayosa was nearly wrecked. A sudden
change in the wind when they were rounding the point drove her into the
breakers. Her mast was badly sprung and only with the utmost difficulty
was she  saved.  Under  shortened sail she entered Port of Spain, a
curiously picturesque old town. Here the collection was discharged as
before and the Cayosa  beached  for  an overhauling. Among those
employed to assist in the repairs were three English sailors who were
held prisoners on  the  charge  of  mutiny. The prison regulations in
Trinidad were very lax, so much so that the three mutineers were
permitted to come down daily and  take  a  hand  in the sloop's
overhauling. They were from Liverpool and hard characters. The captain
of their vessel delivered them over at Trinidad preferring to go
shorthanded rather than have them aboard. On the shady side of the
sloop, that was then high up on the beach, they entertained Scott  and
Paul with their varied adventures. One day Paul expressed astonishment
that being prisoners, they were allowed such unusual liberties. One of
them, Dick Harris by name, answered:

"We are a burden to the authorities here. They would be glad to be rid
of us without the trouble and expense of sending us to  England,  where,
no doubt, we would get the rope's end of the law. Last night when you
paid us off, we stayed out late. When we got back at the jail we  had to
knock again and again. At last the jailer called out: 'Who's there?' We
gave our names, when he exclaimed:  'Now  if  you  blasted  shell-backs
can't get home at a reasonable hour, you can stay out. This is the last
time I will be disturbed from my slumbers to let you in.'"

The three worthies implored Paul to take them away on the Cayosa. I
referred them to the negro captain. The latter earnestly assured them
that, he would sooner run a cargo of scorpions than risk himself and
crew to the tender care of the mild mannered Liverpool tars.

When the sloop was fully repaired, she started on a trip around the
island, but the breakers were too heavy for successful work.  She
directed her course northward and soon reentered the Cariacon group. A
couple of months were spent in those lovely  islands.  The  great
breakers  that swept in along the coast of Trinidad, Tobago and Granada
were missing. In the tranquil bays  and  inlets,  they  pursued  their
occupation  of bringing up the natural treasures of the deep with more
profit and less risk. They would anchor the Cayosa as near shore as
possible,  in  some well sheltered bay. Here soundings wouid be taken,
and the vicinity thoroughly inspected. When the bay gave promise of
shells and coral, a camp was made on the silver-like beach under the
shade of the towering cocoanut trees. The mainsail was detached and
carried ashore to serve  as  an awning. The large sheet-iron boilers
were also landed. While two of the crew gathered wood and decayed
vegetation for  fuel,  the  others  were busy erecting a crude fire-
place with rocks, over which the boilers were set. The shore camp being
ready, the submarine pump would  be  lowered into the yawl and with Tom
Scott, encased in his diving armor, would be conveyed to the most likely
place on the bay. When this was reached,  a kedge anchor was dropped,
the face piece of the armor screwed on, the pipes attached and Tom
quietly slipped over the side and descended to the reef. Two of the crew
turned cranks to force air down to him, while Paul seated in the stern
held the life line. When the diver reached bottom, he gave the signal to
shift the boat wherever his explorations led him. When a lot of shells
or curious objects were found,  several  pulls  on the line were given
indicating, "to anchor and send down the bucket." This bucket was a huge
iron affair, holding about five  bushels.  It  was sent to the bottom.
Tom soon filled it with living and dead specimens of brilliant and
beautiful shells. Then it was hoisted and  the  contents transferred
aboard. In the clear waters on the coral reef, Paul, by hanging over the
stern, could distinctly  see  Tom  on  the  bottom  moving around in his
ponderous dress. He longed for the day when he could go down and behold
the strange sights below in the green, transparent water. At last, the
yawl was loaded. Tom came up and the helmet of his suit was removed and
he enjoyed the pure, salt air  once  more.  The  boat  was headed for
shore and the treasures landed. All living shells were quickly
transferred to the boilers full of  hot  water.  They  were  left  to
simmer over the fire for a couple of hours, after which they were dumped
on the sands. The thoroughly cooked inhabitants  were  easily  removed
and the shells sweet and clean and glowing with all the beautiful tints
of the rose and lily, were placed in  piles  under  the  shade  of  the
awning.

While the crew was engaged in this latter occupation, Scott, and Paul,
armed with rifle and shotgun, would saunter through the heavily perfumed
tropical forests in search of any game they could find. In expeditions
of this kind, they captured three young monkeys and a couple of parrots,
who were soon trained pets on the Cayosa, furnishing all hands with
amusement. Scott and Paul shot many iguanos. These are  huge  lizards
that abound in the tropics. The captain and crew considered this game a
great delicacy and broiled and ate them with relish. It was a long time
ere Scott or Paul would touch the reptiles. One day the black captain
offered	all a young lizard, daintily broiled. He assured them that it
was  as sweet and tender as an angel's dream. They tasted it and found
it really excellent, and from  that  time  on  partook  heartily  of the
dish, whenever it was on the table. At night they frequently stretched
their hammocks from tree to tree for their cabin was uncomfortably hot.
After a refreshing bath in the cool phosphorescent water and a scamper
up and down the level sands in lieu of a towel, they would turn in and
enjoy a sound sleep. They were generally awakened before daylight by the
shrieking and chattering of the parrots and monkeys. Then with a  spring
from their hammock, they would dash merrily in to the reviving water.
After this they donned their white canvas suits and  were  ready  for
another day. Breakfast was taken on shore. This consisted of fresh fish,
coffee, cocoanuts, pineapples and bread fruits. Abundance of  this
fruit  was found on all the islands they visited. On some of the islands
they could not enjoy their nights in the cool hammocks, owing to the
attacks  of the malicious jigger spider and ferocious mosquitoes.

One day while at anchor over a coral reef at the southern part of
Vequin, Torn Scott agreed to give Paul his first lesson in  diving.  Tom
had been feeling sick and feverish for some days so it made him willing
to let Paul take his place for once. He gave Paul full instructions how
to act, especially warning him not to gasp in the compressed air, but to
breathe naturally and easily. When the helmet was screwed on, Paul felt
a smothering sensation but it soon passed. Encouraged, he stepped down n
the rope ladder over the side of the sloop and slowly slipped to  bottom
about five fathoms below. The descent was easy, but bewildering. When
his heavily leaded feet struck on the coral, it seemed to him as  if the
top of his head was being lifted off. For the moment he wished to regain
the surface, but Scott's advice to keep cool and steady came back  to
him and he quickly regained control of his nerves. He peered through the
heavy plate glass visor curiously around at the strange sights  under
the green water. The bottom was as white as snow drift and the powerful
sun lit lip the water so That  he  could  distinctly  see all  objects
within twelve or fifteen feet of him. He signaled "all right" to Scott
with the line and started to walk around. The signal line and hose  were
played out to him, so that he could take a wide scope around and under
the sloop. Notwithstanding the enormous weight of lead attached  to  the
diving dress, Paul found that he had to walk as easily and lightly as if
there were egg shells under his feet; the least little pressure on the
bottom had the tendency to send him up. After a half-hour below, during
which  he  thoroughly  enjoyed  his  novel surroundings,  he  felt  an
oppression on his chest and signaled "to haul up." The strong arms of
the crew helped him regain deck, the helmet was removed and  his
flushed and eager face exposed. He remarked to Tom that "diving was
glorious." After a rest of two hours, the sloop  having been  shifted
to  another anchorage, he again descended. This time the bottom had a
different aspect. It was full of dark rocks over which grow great masses
ofsea weeds. A few feet from where he descended, sprang up a reef of
branch coral which extended as far as he could see on either side. This
coral grew like shrubbery. It was hard to believe that, all this was the
product of an invisible insect, instead of being a miniature forest
turned  into  pure white stone. The scene was surpassingly beautiful;
coral branches ran up to a height of eight or ten feet from the bottom,
where  they  locked and wove together like vines. Paul walked to the
edge of this reef and gazed with delighted eyes into its  liquid
depths.  Schools  of  bright colored fish were swimming gracefully in
and out through the delicate coral branches. Some, more fearless than
their companions, swam round and round Paul's copper helmet, and looked
into the thick glass at the front. When Paul made a sudden move of  his
hand,  they  darted  away;  but returned soon again to satisfy their
curiosity and ascertain what strange monster had invaded their fairy
land.

Three sudden jerks of the life line held in the hands of the anxious
Tom, recalled Paul to his work. The three pulls meant, "Where are you?
Is everything right?" He then signaled for the bucket to be lowered.
Taking his pry he broke off  some  exquisite  specimens  of  the
undergrowth coral, which he loaded in and sent up. He then explored on
the side of the coral forest until he came to a small portion of the
bottom, covered with sand and surrounded with rocks. Under the growth of
marine vegetation, he passed his hand, and pulled from the rock a living
shell.  Paul had been fully instructed by his father in the science of
conchology, so he recognized this specimen as very rare and much sought
after. It was the shell called "voluta musica." This was the first one
of those shells found during the expedition. After a careful search he
found  twenty-three more of the same kind, and several large shells
known as "Triton's trumpet." The bucket was filled. Paul followed it to
the surface  well satisfied with his first day's work as a submarine
diver.

Scott was not enthusiastic over the "volute musica", but the captain of
the Cayosa was delighted. He knew the value of the shell. He told  Paid
he had sold many of them to the tourists and collectors in Barbadoes
receiving from fifty cents to a dollar and a half  apiece.  He  also
said that where one of those shells was found there was generally many
in the vicinity, and advised Paul not to move the sloop that  night, but
to descend again the next day.

When the sun was sufficiently high the next morning, Paul again donned
the armor and resumed his search for the voluta. Not thirty  yards  from
where he had discovered the first one, he found a basin in the rocks
filled with sand. From around this basin he took out two hundred and
forty specimens of the desired shell. Afterwards it was ascertained that
no greater find of this species had ever been made. Scott was not
pleased with Paul's success. He grew more sullen every day. Several
tunes be tried to resume his position as chief diver,  but  his strength
was  not equal to the strain, and Paul gladly took his place, which only
made Scott furious. The abuse and curses he heaped upon captain and crew
would have resulted in something serious only for Paul. The captain
wanted to maroon the growler, that is, to  place  him on  an  island
with  some provisions and sail away. To this Paul answered that he would
blow off the head of the man that attempted  such a  thing.  He  then
tried  to restrain Scott but with poor success. There was no other way
out of it, so Paul decided to end the cruise. The sloop had a pretty
fair cargo so he ordered the captain to make sail for Bridgetown,
Barbadoes. They arrived there a month before the charter expired. Mr.
C.  settled  to  the satisfaction of the Cayusa's Captain and Scott was
placed in the Marine Hospital. Three weeks later, after intense
suffering  from  fever,  the poor fellow died. Then Paul understood all
his growls and abuse and was sincerely sorry. The collection was boxed
ready for shipment  and  Paul had a pleasant time on the island, while
waiting for a northern bound vessel.

One day while sitting at the mole, fishing, he saw a staunch little
schooner with dilapidated sails bear into the harbor. When her  anchor
was let go, a boat was lowered into which two sailors and a man
evidently the captain, entered. Paul, folding his fishing line,
sauntered  down  to find out who the new arrivals were. A custom house
officer standing by, hailed the stranger as he came ashore with, "Why,
Captain Balbo.  I  am delighted to see you."

"Shure it does me eyes good to see yureself," said the new arrival, in a
rich Irish brogue. "Me papers air all right, so we'll have no trouble.
O'ive just called in to get a bit av fresh wather, an' if the Lord's
willin' somethin' a little stronger."

"You're always welcome," responded the officer, "even if you do neglect
to get your clearances. You know there is no love lost between you  and
the custom house."

The schooner captain way a stout, thickset man with a face bronzed to
the color of mahogany and a head of hair as red as a  Pittsburgh furnace
at midnight. His blue eyes sparkled with good nature and merriment, and
a continual smile hovered over his massive mouth. After several  hearty
greetings to acquaintances on the landing, the captain proceeded to the
warehouse of the merchant, where Mr. C. soon afterward introduced  Paul
to the jolly old sea dog. When Captain Balbo learned that Paul had come
down after seashells and curiosities, he was delighted and invited  the
boy to come aboard.

"O'im in the same line meself. But instead of lookin' afther dirthy,
bad-smellin' sea shells, it's afther the shells of ould Vessels Oi am."

Paul gladly promised to go aboard that afternoon. The captain purchased
a supply of provisions and made arrangements for  his  casks  of  fresh
water and "stronger stuff," but in vain Mr. C. entreated him to remain
over and take dinner with himself and  Paul.  The  captain  declared  he
could "fill himself up at the hotel with more liberty and less
embarrassment." Mr. C. told Paid that Captain  Balbo  was  a  good
natured  old wrecker and treasure hunter, well-known in all the West
India Islands. Late that afternoon Paul rowed out to  the  schooner, and
received  an enthusiastic welcome from the captain, who had evidently
been enjoying himself "without restraint or embarrassment." He took Paul
into a  roomy cabin, and introduced him to his wife, a Very obese yellow
woman, who was reclining on a sofa. The woman was undoubtedly of negro
blood; but to Paul's profound astonishment, she had as fine a brogue as
her husband. After some conversation Paul  ventured to  ask  the
captain  how  this happened. The latter laughed heartily and answered:

"Me wife wuz born far enough away from dear ould Ireland. Oi'll tell ye
how it wuz. Many years ago a parthy of immygrants left county Kerry for
Nassau, New Providence oisland. Their ship wuz driven far out av her way
in a sthorm an' wrecked on a small oisland in Flamingo Bay. A  few  av
thoze thet survived, settled on the oisland, an' soon had foine homes on
its fertile soil. They found only a few nager inhabitants,  an'  shure
they tuk thim fur servants. Me parents were among the survivors from the
ship an' Oi wuz born about a year afther the wreck. As toime went  on,
the nagers gradually acquired the accent of their masthers. Whin Oi grow
up Oi shipped on a tradin' schooner in which we  wus  cast  away  near
Nassau. There Oi joined an English ship; n' fur foive years put in the
loife av a sailor forninst the mast. Me  heart  always  longed  fur  the
sunlit, happy oisland an' me people an' at lasht Oi got back there, an'
there Oi married Betsy thet ye will see on her beam ends on the  sofia.
Soon afther, in company with others, Oi bought fur a trifle, a schooner
that wuz wrecked on the Keys. Afther hard wuerk we got her afloat,  an'
re-masted. We did good wuerk in her as a wrecker. Wan be wan Oi bought
me comrades out, until to-day Oi am masther av  the  good  little  craft
that's under yez. Me wife is always the companion av me voyages. Ehen
she has the will to shake hersel', she can put more weight on a rope
then the balance av the crew. An' there's not a cook in the gay city of
Paris that equal her. Me business is tradin' and wreckin.' Mr. C.  tould
me that ye had submarine armour an' some improved dredgin' appyratus.
Now Oi know where both will be useful to ye an' to me. There's many a
wreck that Oi know, that's out av me reach wid the appliances Oi have.
Wid your appyratus we can get treasure in abundance."

His stories of wrecks and treasures were of deep interest to Paul.
Gladly would he have joined the captain, but his father owned the
submarine armour and apparatus and he felt that he ought to consult him
first. But he promised to answer Captain Balbo later on. A was about to
leave the schooner, he remarked, "Your good lady sleeps very soundly,
but she is very fat."

"That fat, me b'y," responded Balbo, "is av great valey to me. The
English law makes us to give wan fourth av  all  treasure  trove;  but
it's devilish little they find on board the 'Foam' afther me wife lands.
They ofthen remark to me, that it's queer how fat Betsy is  whin  she
goes ashore an' how much flesh she loses afther a short sojourn. Now, me
b'y, Oi'll meet ye to-morrow. Oi loike ye an' Oi hope ye'll jine me.
Ye'll niver regret the day ye do. An' now ye black devils," he said,
turning to the boat's crew, "set this young gintleman safe  ashore,  er
be  the port bow av Noah's ark. Oi'll break ivery bone in yer black
shkins. Good night, God bless ye, me son," was shouted over the dark
waters as  the boat shot away to the landing.

That night Paul entertained Mr. C. with an account of his visit to the
"Foam" and his interview with the captain.  Mr.  C.  assured  Paul  that
Balbo was reliable and thoroughly honest in his dealings. At the same
time he strongly advised him to take passage in the brig  that  had just
arrived in the offing bound for New York and consult his father before
embarking in the enterprise proposed by the wrecker. The  next day  Mr.
C., the captain and Paul dined together. Paul promised the captain, that
if he would consent to his gathering curiosities  during the  voyages
they would make together and give him a share of all treasure recovered,
he would lay the matter before his father on his arrival in New  York.
If Mr. Boyton consented he would join him in Nassau, with all the
improved apparatus he could secure for the business. The  form  of
agreement was drawn up and a bargain concluded subject to the approval
of Paul's father. Three days later Paul sailed for New York on the brig
Saco,  and after a quiet voyage arrived safely at home once more. The
collection of curios he had  with  him  and  the previous  shipments  he
had  made convinced his father that in no other position would Paul be
so valuable to him. He was delighted with his success and allowed  him
a  liberal sum for his labors. Paul was glad to be with his family once
more and proved to his much loved mother that he had not forgotten her
in all  his wanderings as he had a splendid collection of the richest,
rarest and most beautiful specimens he had gathered during his voyage as
a  present for her. The liberal supply of money obtained from his
father's generosity was recklessly  divided between  his  sisters.  A
few  days  after reaching home, he broached the subject of Captain
Balbo's proposition to his father. Mr. Boyton did not like the idea of
wrecking  or  treasure hunting, but he was perfectly content that Paul
should join the captain for the purpose of collecting curiosities, and
was  willing  to  supply him with money and all the improved apparatus
required for that purpose. Paul promised his father that the outlay
would be applied according to his directions; but made the firm resolve
to himself that he would tackle the treasure ships mentioned to him by
Balbo.




CHAPTER IV.

A month after he reached home, young Boyton started again for Nassau
where had sent several letters to the captain of the "Foam" informing
him as to when he might be expected to arrive. He sailed on a trading
schooner, and when they entered the harbor at Nassau, he was glad to
find the "Foam" at anchor there. As the schooner glided past the "Foam,"
Paul loudly hailed her. Captain  Balbo  protruded  his  red  head
through  the gangway. When he recognized Paul, he greeted, him with a
burst of semi-nautical and semi-scriptural eloquence and shouted: "Oi'll
sind  a  boat afther ye. Come aboard quick as ye can."


As Paul could not leave the schooner without first having his effects
passed through the Custom House, the  captain  himself  came  ashore. He
nearly dislocated Paul's arm with his vigorous hand shaking and said
that he had been waiting at Nassau a week for  him.  The  apparatus
being duly passed, all embarked in the captain's yawl and were speedily
conveyed aboard the "Foam." There he received the same warm welcome
from the captain's good natured wife, who had a neat little cabin
prepared for him. After supper the captain and Paul had a long talk on
deck where they sat smoking cigars under the brilliant starlight. Paul
described fully his father objection to his embarking in the wrecking
business,  though he was willing to enter into the arrangements,
providing his share would be the shells and curiosities, which the
captain regarded as  so  much trash.


"Now, Paul, me b'y," said Balbo, after listening intently to his
proposition; "Oi'm an old man an' Oi consider meself an  honest  wan. Ye
can have all the shells an' other things ye consider curiosities that we
pick up; but ye must also have share in anything valuable we recover,
an' ye can depind on me to give you a shquare dale. As fur that paper
Mr. C. drew up, there is no occasion fur it. Oi'm not fond o' papers  av
ony koind fur Oi've always had more or less throuble wid im. Oi give ye
me wurrd an' Oi've yure wurrd an' that is sufficient. The paper can  go
to the shaarks where it belongs."


He then descended into the cabin and returned with the paper they had
signed, which he tore in two and cast into the sea. The next morning the
Captain and Paul went ashore for the clearance papers and that afternoon
anchor was weighed and the "Foam" stood away  for  the  south. Island
after island was visited in the Great Bahama group. Many wrecks well
known to the  captain  were  visited  and  worked  successfully.
Anchors, chains, windlasses, etc., were found in abundance until the
"Foam" was well loaded and sail was made for Kingston, Jamaica.  Off
Morant  Point they picked up a negro pilot in his little canoe far out
at sea. The pilot wore a pair of blue pants, white shirt and stove-pipe
hat, given him no doubt by some passenger or captain of a merchantman.
He gravely saluted all on deck as he passed his bare feet over the
bulwarks and turning to the captain said in the peculiar dialect of the
Jamaica negro:


"Does yo want er pilot, sah?"


"No," responded the captain, "Oi know this coast well enough, but Oi
think ye had bother hoist that craft av yure's on boord an'  come  wid
us into Port Royal. There is signs av a cyclone if Oi'm not mishtaken;"
an invitation which the pilot gladly accepted. His outlandish  attire
and quaint English greatly amused Paul, who after supper, sat beside him
on the deck and plied him with questions about Jamaica. The pilot told
him many interesting tales, among them one of a famous shark known as
"Port Royal Tom" who  was  supposed  to  inhabit  the  waters  of
Kingston's beautiful bay. "Tom, sah, was a pow'ful shahk, 'bout thirty
feet long; but nobody know how ole he was. In de ol'en times big fleets
ob  English men-ob-war use to anchoh off Port Royal, an' dat shahk got
fat on de refuse dat was frown ovahboahd. Sometimes de sailors would
heah de  yallow gals laughin' an' dancin' on de shoah at night an' dey
longed fur to jine dem. Dey wasn't 'lowed to go of'en in  dose  days
'cause  de  yallow fevah was dere; but when de sailor boys got a chance
dey would slip sof'ly down de side an' strike out fur de shoah. Tom, he
know  dis  custom, an' he kep sharp eye on de boys, an' I 'shure yo'
sah, dat dat shahk gobbled up moah seamen dan 'uld fill de bigges' ob de
Queen's  men-ob-wah. As lots ob de sailors went ashoah fur 'sertion as
well as fur 'musement, de navay people winked dere lef' eye at de tricks
ob ole Tom. After  a while de sailors got to belibe dat he wah under de
pay ob de gove'ment, an' many a red-hot cannon ball ware sec'etly
dropped ober  de  side  to Tom, yafter firs' temptin' him wid nice
pieces ob salt junk. I nab neber seen ole Tom myself, sah, but dey say
dat  he  is  'round  heah  yet. Lucinda Nelson, de great fortune tellah
an hoodoo 'oman done tole me dat Tom's now livin' in a big ware-house
down in ole Jamaica  an'  dat  he sel'om comes out 'cause he's getting'
quite ole. Ole Jamaica, yo' mus' remembah, sah, is fifteen fathom below
de ocean  now.  Great  earthquake come up one night an' swallowed de
whole town an only a few yeahs ago, when de watah was right cleah, yo'
could see  de  tops  ob  some  ob  de houses still standin' at de
bottom. I belibe Lucinda Nelson, sah, fur she's a great 'oman an' known
a heap ob tings. Niggah folks all go to her fur hoodoos an' chahms an' I
reckon she mus' be close on two hun' yeahs ole."

Captain Balbo who was laying close by did not seem to pay much attention
to the story of Port Royal Tom. He had heard it often before;  but  he
pricked up his ears when Lucinda was mentioned and eagerly questioned
the pilot as to her present whereabouts. Turning to Paul, he said:
"Oi've heard a good dale about, this fortune-teller, an' Oi intind to
visit her; she may be able to put us onto somethin' good" Paul  laughed
at  the idea of her knowing anything about wrecks or sunken treasure;
but the captain persisted in his determination to find her when they
landed.


The wind having dropped, the schooner was becalmed and lazily pitched
around on the gentle swell. The captain called loudly  to  his  help-
mate Betsy to bring up some fresh cigars and a bottle of grog and
settled himself more comfortably on deck to enjoy the pilot's stories.


"Have you ever seen Port Royal Tom?" Paul asked the captain.


"No," responded the Captain; "but a frind av moine did an' ye may rest
ashured that he is around here somewhere. Oi wouldn't be surprised if he
were in the ould ware-house that our frind, the pilot mintioned."


"I guess yo' see a great many shahks in yoah time, massa Cap'in:" said
the pilot.

"Yis," responded the captain, "Oi saw lots av thim." He nudged Paul with
his foot and a merry twinkle lit his eyes. "They're curious brutes an'
not built like human bein's."

The pilot and Paul were now all attention as the captain seemed inclined
to spin a yarn.


"Whin Oi wuz a shtrapping young fellow about eighteen, Oi wuz sailin'
aboord a trader. Wan day we were layin' becalmed,  as  we  air  now, off
Turk's Island. While we were quietly sittin' on the bulwarks, we saw a
monstrous shaark off our starboard beam. The ould mon at the  toime was
snorin' away in his cabin, an' it was a foine chance to have a little
fun. We out wid the shaark hook and havin' baited it wid a temptin'
piece av junk, attached it to a shtrong line which we rove troo the
davitts. Afther smellin' round it, the shaark turned on its  side an'
swallowed it. All hands clapped on to the rope an' we hoisted him clear
out av the wather. A bowline wuz passed over his tail an' we got him on
boord an' a few blows wid the axe along the spine quited him down. His
floppin' on the deck niver woke the skipper, so we cut him open. We
shlit him from close under the mouth to near the tail and overhauled
everything that wuz in him. In the stomach we found a collection  of
soup  an'  bouillon cans an' bottles enough to shtart a liquor house. As
we wuz examinin' the stuff, the ould man came on deck an' thundered
out:"


"'What the blazes are ye doin' there messin' me decks up! Get that brute
overboord quick an' wash down.' We histed  the  carcass  av  the  gutted
shaark an' passed it over the side. We watched the body as it struck the
wather. It remained still fur a few minutes, thin, to  our  amazement,
turned over an' began swimmin'. He casht his eye inquiringly up at the
crew, who were all standin' along the rail lookin' at him, as though  he
wanted somethin'. The skipper himself was so overcome at the shtrange
soight that he furgot, fur the toime  bein',  all  about  the disgustin'
state av the deck. Quickly recoverin' himself, he hoarsely ordered the
crew to git the stomach and internals av that shaark overboard  and  git
cleaned down. Three av us grasped the shaark's insides an' liftin' thim
to the rail, cast thim into the say. Whin they shtruck the wather  they
were grabbed be the shark an' swallowed. As his belly was cut wide open,
they went through him an' came to the surface. Three  times  he  done
this, but did'nt succeed in holdin' thim in their proper place. At this
toime all hands were on the rail  watchin'  the sport  an'  ivery  wan
laughed loud at his maneuverin'. The shaark seemed to grow more vexed at
each failure an' to resist the merriment of the crew for he cast  many
furious and malicious glances at the vessel. Once more he backed off fur
a charge to swallow thim an' this toime succeeded in holdin'  thim  in
be a nate trick. Instid av turnin' partly on his side an' showin' his
dorsal fin afther he had swallowed he kept bottom up and swam slowly
away waggin' av his tail with a gratified air while a huge grin spread
over his repulsive countenance."

"Great lo'd, sah," said the pilot, "dat was wonderful indeed!"

The captain gazed sternly into the pilot's eye to see if there was the
glimmer of a doubt  therein,  while  Paul  tumbled  into  the  cabin  to
suppress his fit of convulsive laughter.

During the night the threatened cyclone made its appearance and the
"Foam" let go her anchor in Kingston harbor just time to  escape  the
full fury of the storm. After some considerable trouble at the Custom
House, the cargo of the "Foam" was landed and disposed of; except  the
shells and curiosities gathered in the months' run through tint islands.
Those as usual were cased and left in the hands of a merchant for
shipment to New York. The sale of the wreckage amounted to three hundred
and twelve dollars. After deducting the stores consumed on the vessel,
the captain offered half the balance to Paul, who refused, as the shells
obtained were equal in value to the wreckage. The captain insisted that
he  should at least accept one hundred dollars. All business was
concluded and the "Foam" provisioned; but the weather was still stormy
and  unsettled  so they decided to remain over until it cleared up. The
captain and Paul made many excursions around Kingston. One of them was
to the camp of  the English soldiers. It was situated on a plateau above
the town about four thousand feet from the sea level. To  reach  this
camp  they  had  to charter jackasses. Captain Balbo was not at home on
this stubborn craft. All went well on the plains below; but when  they
reached  the  steep path up the mountain side the captain could not hold
his seat. His fat body would continually slip down on the flanks of the
donkey, who  would begin to practice as though he wanted to kick a hole
in the sky. Three times the captain was unseated but finally he struck a
plan  of  holding on to the donkey's tail and in this manner was towed
up the mountain. The magnificent sight from the camp amply repaid them
for  their  arduous ascent. They could distinctly see every part of
Kingston as it lay stretched along the shore of its superb bay, while on
the other side, a long tongue of land covered with cocoanut trees
reached out and almost made the harbor a lake. At the extreme point was
the entrance  out  into  the ocean, where immense naval store-houses
covered the beach and off them were moored great  hulks  belonging  to
the  British  government.  They thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful view
and did not regain the town until almost nightfall. Instead of going
aboard, the captain proposed to have dinner at a hotel; after which he
persisted in making a visit to the fortune teller. The pilot was easily
found and consented to act as a guide to the cabin of the dark seeress.
Along tramp through the narrow streets and a little out in the country
brought them to the habitation of this famed dealer in "Black Art." The
house was almost buried by banana trees and heavy vines. In response to
the captain's  impatient  knocks,  the door was opened by a little girl,
who said:

"Gran won't see any one to-night, no use in trying."

"We must see her fur we're goin' away to-morrow an' won't have another
chance," urged the captain.

A querulous voice from the inside was heard saying: "Come Captain, come
in if you insist," an invitation which  was  quickly  accepted  by  the
captain who was followed by Paul and the pilot. On entering the back
room, a curious sight presented itself. The seeress looked  far
different from the picture Paul had formed of her in his mind. She was
not over five feet high and so thin and wrinkled that she resembled a
mummy rather than a human being. On her head she wore a turban formed of
some bright colored cloth, while the balance of her apparel  consisted
of  a  dark robe embroidered with snakes and other reptiles. The room
was adorned with skins of serpents, bunches of herbs, and many weird
looking objects.

"So, Captain Balbo, you came to see me at last," exclaimed the old
crone; "and who is that young stranger from the far off north that I see
at your side?"

The captain was dumbfounded at hearing his name announced by a person
whom he had never seen before, but shrewdly remarked:

"If ye know me, why is it ye don't know this young stranger?"

"Ah," responded the fortune-teller, "if he sought me I would know him.
He has simply accompanied you as a sightseer. Now, Captain, what  can  I
do for you?"

"How ye know me, Lucinda, is morn than Oi can comprehend, Oi've often
heard av ye. As ye know me ye must be aware av me business an'  can also
tell phat Oi'm here fur."

"Yes, Captain, I know both and the yellow curse you are after lays in a
little bay in sufficient quantities to satisfy you on the most southern
island in a group of three that bear the same name."

The captain pondered for a while, then said, "It must be the Caicos, for
they're the only three islands in a group that bear  the  same  name
that Oi know of."

She then went on in a mysterious way to describe to the captain a rock-
locked bay, giving him  points  and  descriptions  by  which  he  easily
recognized the island of East Caicos. She ended the conversation
abruptly and ordered them out. Before leaving the captain placed  a
sovereign in her hand and came away deeply impressed with what the
fortune-teller had revealed to him.  For  quite  a  distance  he
remained  profoundly silent, then turning to Paul he said: "Oi know the
exact place the old devil manes. Though she didn't name  the  island she
described  it  so closely that it is impossible to mishtake it. It is
East Caicos, Oi know the bay well an' it has a great  reputation  of
bein'  a  resort  fur pirates in olden days; an' mark me wurrd, b'y, the
visit to that old black will be the means av makin' our  fortune.
Instead  av  headin'  fur Little Cayman to-morrow mornin', we'll pint
her fur East Caicos. It is over fure hundred miles north by east from
here; but it will pay  us  to make the run."

Next morning being fair, the "Foam" left Jamaica and stood off in the
direction of the island. They had good weather and fair  winds.  In four
days they passed Cape Maysi, the most easterly point or Cuba. Here they
met head winds that caused them to tack four more days, then  they got
under the lee of the Great Inagua island. The weather was very
threatening and every indication pointed to another cyclone, so they
decided  to run the sloop into one of the sheltered bays that abound on
those coasts. Here they lay for two days  while  the  wind  whistled and
shrieked through the naked rigging. As they were about to get under way
the third morning after the dropped  anchor,  a  native  came  off in  a
canoe containing pineapples and cocoanuts which he exchanged for a few
biscuits. The captain questioned him closely in regard to  wrecks around
the island and was told about a large Spanish ship that went down years
ago on the southeast coast and it was a legend among the inhabitants
that she contained a vast amount of treasure. None of her crew ever
reached shore so the information was rather  vague. Nevertheless,  the
captain determined to make a try for it. The Indian swore that he knew
about the exact location and for the promise of a dollar  a  day  he
agreed  to pilot them to the place. After a cruise of about thirty miles
eastward, they came to the place where the Indian said the wreck had
occurred and taking sounding they found bottom a little over nineteen
fathoms. The weather being fine they hove to and the yawl containing the
diving  pump was lowered.

"This is a pretty deep dive," remarked the captain to Paul as he was
equipping himself in his armour.

"It is," responded Paul, "the deepest I ever made; but nothing risk,
nothing win. Fasten on the face piece  and  you  yourself  attend  to
the signal line."

He dropped overboard and commenced descending slowly, while the captain
anxiously and watchfully plied out the signal line and hose. He reached
bottom which was full of rocks covered with a slimy growth of marine
vegetation; the pressure on him was something enormous. It was  very
dark and he groped for some time without discovering anything. He
signaled the boat to move with him as he pursued his  explorations.  At
last  his heart was gladdened by the sight of a wreck overgrown with a
heavy mass  of  weeds  and  sea  plumes.  After  a  closer investigation
he  was disappointed to find that she was not nearly as large as the
vessel described by the Indian; but by her appearance he judged she must
have been under water many, many years. All the iron work was eaten away
and the timbers badly decayed. He gave the signal, "kedge and buoy." The
answer from above was "all-right," and soon after he grabbed a kedge
that slowly and silently descended near him. Having fastened it to the
wreck,  he signaled "haul away," and was soon to the surface and helped
aboard the yawl. When the helmet was removed  he  was very  much
exhausted.  The captain was enthusiastic over his discovery, but was
rather disappointed when told of the dimensions of the wreck. The
schooner was then hailed to come alongside and all sails were lowered.
One of the largest dredges was sent down and Paul descended after it. He
used the dredge to clear away the masses of vegetation which covered the
wreck. He fastened the claws in the decayed wood and signaling them to
haul away,  an  entrance was at last effected into the hull. He found
nothing there to reward him for his trouble and work except long white
rows, which on  examination proved to be grinning skulls and bones and
the traces of rusty iron chains that bound them together in life. Paul
was horrified at his  ghastly discovery and signaled "haul away." On
reaching the dock be informed the captain of his find.

"A slaver, be the mizzen top av the ark," he exclaimed. "There's no use
av huntin' through that fellow. They would have no cash aboard  if  the
skeletons are there. They'd have to sell the nagers before they'd have
anything av value."

Three days were now spent in looking for the phantom treasure ship, but
the captain lost patience finally and unceremoniously kicked the Indian
overboard into his canoe and the "Foam" bore away with a fair wind to
the island of East Caicos.

The second morning after, East Caicos lay under their port bow. It
towered high and forbidding far up in the mist. They beat around to the
bay which the Captain supposed was the one described by the fortune-
teller. The schooner was anchored to the lee of a reef, while the
captain, Paul and two of the crew embarked in the yawl on a tour of
investigation. They pulled close under the cliff and into an inlet
between two great jaws of barnacle-covered rock that towered high above
them. Paul was astonished to see the exact reproduction of the word
picture  painted  by  the black fortune-feller of Jamaica before his
eyes. They rowed through the inlet on the swell and entered a bay that
was perfectly landlocked. All around it to the height of a couple of
hundred feet arose a mass of irregular rock, out of which great flocks
of gulls and other sea birds flew and angrily circled around the
intruders. "This is the place shore enough, Paul. There's no other place
loike it on the oislands,  Oi  could'nt be mishtaken."

At this moment one of the oarsmen exclaimed: "Almighty Lord, Captain!
Look over there! See the sharks!"

A short glance was sufficient to reveal the fact that the water was full
of these wolves of the deep and they commenced to  gather  around  the
yawl in alarming numbers.

"Be careful there, Paul," cautioned the Captain, "keep yure hands in
boord," as he hurriedly ordered the crew to swing around and pull out.
By this time fully a hundred pair of hungry eyes were following in the
wake of the boat. As she retreated, the sharks grow bolder  and
approached closer; many of them diving from side to side under the boat,
while one of them made a snap at the oars. It did not require much
encouragement for the black sailors to pull, as their eyes were standing
out of their heads at the time and the muscles showed up on  their  arms
like  whip cords as they sent the boat flying to the schooner. They
reached the side in safety and then every fire-arm  and  harpoon  on the
"Foam"  was called into play on the ferocious brutes. Many and fervent
were the prayers that the captain sent up for the welfare  of the  black
witch  at Jamaica, whom he swore he would kill on sight.

After this adventure the schooner was headed to the northwest and for
four months the islands and keys wre thoroughly worked. During that
time, three trips had been made to Nassau and valuable cargoes of
recovered articles discharged. No treasure of  any  account  was  found,
with  the exception of one enormous piece of coral, in which were
embedded a number of old Spanish dollars. This object was sold to a
tourist  at  Nassau for the suns of $250. Experience convinced Paul that
the tales of vast treasure in the Indies were more fabled than  real;
still,  strange  to say, old Balbo firmly believed in them. Every time
the water closed over Paul's copper helmet, his sanguine nature firmly
expected that  untold wealth was about to be opened up to them. During
this cruise Paul had neglected no opportunity to secure rare specimens
of  shells  and  other marine novelties. In a letter he received from
his father during his last visit to Nassau, he was informed that his
share of the goods  shipped had covered the cost of the submarine
armour, dredging apparatus, etc., and that he had placed eight hundred
and sixty dollars to his credit in a New York bank. This letter he
showed to Balbo who to use his own expression, was "thrown on  his  beam
ends"  with  astonishment.  Paul  now persuaded him to give up the
dredging of wreckage and treasure hunting and devote the whole time to
seeking curiosities. The old man  was  loth to give up his pet ideas of
treasure-hunting and of making long, useless voyages in quest of
phantoms. Paul assured him  that  there  was  more chance of finding
treasure ships by systematically working one locality, so he  agreed  to
turn  the  schooner  into  a  "shellhunter"  as  he sarcastically termed
it. Everything was ready for another cruise through the Keys and small
islands, when the captain, who  had  secretly  been interviewing	another
fortune-teller, announced his intention of sailing to the coast of
Mexico. The first point sighted was Cape  Catoche,  the northeast point
of Yucatan. Along this coast they were most successful and soon filled
the schooner with a large  and  valuable  collection  of curios with
which they sailed to Campachie where they were transferred to a vessel
bound for New Orleans. While at Campache, news  came  in  of the wreck
of a Mexican brig that occurred on the Alakranes Bank.

The daughter of a rich planter living near Merida, Yucatan, was one of
the lost passengers and her father offered one thousand  dollars  reward
for the recovery of her body. An agent was sent down from Sisal to
negotiate with Captain Balbo, with the result that the "Foam" bore  away
to the north taking along one of the surviving sailors of the brig. They
sailed to the  Alakranes  Bank  that  lay  about  eighty  miles  off the
mainland. They arrived there on a Saturday night and soon found
anchorage. Sunday morning the sea was as smooth as a pond of quick-
silver. When they embarked in the yawl and commenced their search, the
Mexican sailor was confused owing to different conditions of the water.
When he  been there last, a wild sea broke over the reefs. In the
afternoon they discovered a dark object below, which proved to be the
ill-fated  brig.  Her bottom was almost completely torn out by her
contact with the reef so that she sank instantly to the leeward. Through
the  clear  water  they could distinctly see her two masts standing
while her shattered sails lay thick and tangled through the rigging.
Next morning the schooner  was taken out and anchored close by and Paul
descended to the wreck. As he struck the bottom a few feet from her, he
found her  heavily  canted  to star-board. He walked around taking care
that his hose pipe would not become entangled in the rigging and
clambered over  her  side.  Two  good sized sharks shot away from the
deck when they heard the hissing of the air escaping from his helmet. He
could see  very  clearly  all  around, owing to the direct rays of the
sun reflecting on the coral reef. On gaining the deck which lay at an
angle of about 35 degrees  he  discovered the iron pumps detached from
their place and pinning to the bulwark the body of a dead sailor, or
rather part of a body as his legs and stomach had been eaten away. This
sight rather unnerved Paul, but he worked his way aft to the cabin hatch
which he  found  securely  fastened.  A  few blows with his pry forced
it open and descending the gangway he found himself in a cabin with four
state rooms on each side. The rooms  on  the tower side were rather dark
but he opened each door and carefully felt the bunks and bottoms for the
body he was in quest of.  Finding  nothing in the first four state-
rooms, he tried the upper ones. There was much more light in these as
the sun shone  down  through  the  green,  clear, water and in through
the glass port holes. Everything buoyant in the staterooms had floated
up against the deck so that he had to haul and pull them down for
examination. The third door he reached he could not open. It was
fastened by a bolt on the inside, but with the aid of his pry he soon
shot it back. Then swinging the door impatiently toward him, the eddy
brought out the upright body of a young woman in her nightdress. Her
hair floated around her head like golden sea-weed as it came forward and
fell against the glass face-piece of his armour. For a moment  he  was
paralyzed with the shock, but, he quickly regained his nerves, and
gently placing his arm around the dead body, he reverently bore  it  to
the deck. Her hands were clasped as though in last supplication to the
great power above, while her eyes protruded with terror at the fate she
had met. Hastily signaling those above to lower a line, he laid the body
carefully against the shattered rigging while he went to grasp  the
rope. Passing it under her arms and putting two secure half hitches on
it, he signaled again to haul away.  It  gently ascended  through  the
clear water, while a school of fish played around her as though sorry to
see her go. Paul followed after and