the change of
a five-dollar-piece; and we of the _Liberdade_ sat before a pot-pie, at
twilight, the like of which on the whole voyage had not been tasted,
from sea fowl laid about by our pilot while sailing through the meadows
and marshes. And the pilot himself, returning while the pot-pie was yet
steaming hot, declared it "ahead of coon."

A pleasant sail was this through the ditch that gran'ther dug. At the
camp fire that night, where we hauled up by a fishing station, thirty
stalwart men talked over the adventures of their lives. My pilot, the
best speaker, kept the camp in roars. As for myself, always fond of
mirth, I got up from the fire sore from laughing. Their curious
adventures with coons and 'gators recounted had been considerable.

Many startling stories were told. But frequently reverting to the voyage
of the _Liberdade_, they declared with one voice that "it was the
greatest thing since the wah." I took this as a kind of complimentary
hospitality. "When she struck on a sand reef," said the pilot, "why, the
captain he jumped right overboard and the son he jumped right over, too,
to tote her over, and the captain's wife she holp."

By daylight next morning we sailed from this camp pleasant, and on the
following day, November 28, at noon, arrived at Beaufort.

Mayor Bell of that city and many of his townfolk met us at the wharf,
and gave me as well as my sea-tossed crew a welcome to their shores,
such as to make us feel that the country was partly ours.

"Welcome, welcome home," said the good mayor; "we have read of your
adventures, and watched your progress as reported from time to time,
with deep interest and sympathy."

So we began to learn now that prayers on shore had gone up for the
little canoe at sea. This was indeed America and home, for which we had
longed while thousands of miles across the ocean.

From Beaufort to Norfolk and thence to Washington was pleasant inland
sailing, with prevailing fair winds and smooth sea. Christmas was spent
on the Chesapeake--a fine, enjoyable day it was! with not a white-cap
ripple on the bay. Ducks swimming ahead of the canoe as she moved
quietly along were loath to take wing in so light a breeze, but flapping
away, half paddling and half flying, as we came toward them, they
managed to keep a long gun-shot off; but having laid in at the last port
a turkey of no mean proportions, which we made shift to roast in the
"caboose" aboard, we could look at a duck with