ther of the former,
although plenty of the latter were to be seen at times--generally out of
range. Two I shot, but I believe when hit they sink. Anyway I did not
see either of them again, although the water was coloured with blood,
shewing that my aim had been true. I doubly wished to get a porpoise,
for the sake of its oil, and also to cut a steak and try its flavour, as
I have heard that in some of the ports on the eastern seaboard of the
United States, boats are fitted out to capture young porpoises for the
hotels, as porpoise calf is considered a delicacy. If cod liver oil is
good for consumptives, why not porpoise cutlets?

How I would have liked to place a porpoise in my fish pond! What a
rumpus he would have caused? I might have seen him then in his habit as
he lived.

My bucket pump frequently took it into its head to go on strike; that
is, it would work when it pleased, and be idle if it wished; so I had to
supplement it with another kind of apparatus. This contrivance was by
using a nine-foot length of four-inch iron piping, which I found in the
boat-store, and which had probably belonged to some vessel as the barrel
of a pump, or something of the kind. To this I fitted a long wooden
piston, having a wooden disk on the end, through which I cut a circular
hole, and fitted over it a leathern valve. When I pushed this piston
down into the water the valve would open and the water would enter the
barrel, and when I drew the piston up the valve would close and draw the
water to the mouth of the pipe, where it poured out of a hole a few
inches from the top into a wooden trough, which conveyed it into the
pool. This meant hard manual labour; but as I only had to use it about
once a week it was exercise for me, and I enjoyed it. So did the fish,
for they would come to the new water in numbers, either because of the
food contained in the water, or because of its coolness in the hot
weather, or some other reason that I am not scientist enough to fathom.

My pond was my place of meditation, and often I would dream a couple of
hours away, thinking of home and those dear to me. I was like Adam, and
sometimes sadly sighed for my Eve; but Eve, otherwise Priscilla, was
hundreds of miles away; so I sighed and yawned, and made myself very
content with my dog and gun, and other belongings.

[Illustration: Decorative chapter heading]

CHAPTER X.

A STORM AND A WRECK--THE CASTAWAY--DEAD--A NIGHT OF HORROR--THE