aport, but a considerable distance from the mouth of the river. The
question is how are they to pass it, whether by land or water, for it is
now approaching towards day. What is to be done must be done without a
moment's delay. It is at length resolved to hazard the chance of passing
it by canoe rather than encountering the untried perils of a dismal
swamp. The daring leader puts his utmost strength to the test, striking
the water right and left with excited vigor. His feeling is 'now or
never'; for he knew this to be the most critical position of his whole
route; unless he could get past it before break of day his case was
hopeless. The dreaded town is at length in view, engendering fear and
terror, but not despair. Several large crafts are seen lying at the
wharf, and lights are reflected from adjacent shipping offices. Two
small boats are observed crossing the river, and in rather uncomfortable
proximity. With these exceptions the inhabitants are evidently in the
enjoyment of undisturbed repose, and quite unconscious of the phenomenon
of such a notorious personage passing their doors with triumphant
success. Scarcely a word was heard, it was like a city of the dead. Who
can imagine the internal raptures of our lucky hero, on leaving behind
him, in the distance, that spot upon which his fate was suspended, and
in having the consciousness that he is now not far from the goal of
safety. Even now there are signals which cheer his heart. He begins
already to inhale the ocean breeze, and from that he derives an
exhilirating sensation such as he had not experienced for many years. He
gets the benefit of the ocean tide, fortunately, in his favor, and
carrying his little hull upon its bosom at such a rate as to supersede
the use of the paddle except in guiding the course. The ocean wave,
however, is scarcely so favorable. It rocks and rolls their frail abode
in such a way as to threaten to put a sad finish to the successful
labors of the past. There is no help for it but to abandon the canoe a
few miles sooner than intended. There is, however, little cause for
complaint, for they can now see their way clear to their final terminus,
if no untoward circumstance arises. They leave the canoe on the beach,
parting with it forever, but not without a sigh of emotion, as if
bidding farewell to a good friend. But the paddle they cling to as a
memento of its achievements, the operator remarking--'It did me better
service than any sword e