klava" at
anchor. Mr. McAlpin kindly gave quarters to our steed in his out-house,
and offered to raise a signal for the schooner to send a boat ashore. As
he was Deputy United States Consul, and as I was tired of the red-cross of
St. George, I asked him to hoist his consular flag. Up to the flag-staff
truck rose the roll of white and red worsted, then uncoiled, blew out, and
the blessed stars and stripes were waving over me. It is surprising to
think how transported one can be sometimes with a little bit of bunting!

And now the labor of packing commenced, of which Picton had the greatest
share by far; the little cabin of the schooner was pretty well spread out
with his traps on every side; and this being ended, Picton got out his
travelling-organ and blazed away in a _finale_ of great tunes and small,
sometimes fast, sometimes slow, as the humor took him. After all, we
parted from the jolly little craft with regret: our trunks were lowered
over the side; we shook hands with all on board; and were rowed in silence
to the land.

I have had some experience in travelling, and have learned to bear with
ordinary firmness and philosophy the incidental discomforts one is certain
to meet with on the road; but I must say, the discipline already acquired
had not prepared me for the unexpected appearance of our wagon after
Picton's luggage was placed in it. First, two solid English trunks of
sole-leather filled the bottom of the vehicle; then the traveller's
Minie-rifle, life-preserver, strapped-up blankets, and hand-bag were
stuffed in the sides: over these again were piled my trunk and the
traveller's valise (itself a monster of straps and sole-leather); then
again his portable-secretary and the hand-organ in a box. These made such
a pyramid of luggage, that riding ourselves was out of the question. What
with the trunks and the cordage to keep them staid, our wagon looked like
a ship of the desert. To crown all, it began to rain steadily. "Now,
then," said Picton, climbing up on his confounded travelling equipage,
"let's get on." With some difficulty I made a half-seat on the corner of
my own trunk; Picton shouted out at Boab; the Newfoundland sailors who had
brought us ashore, put their shoulders to the wheels, and away we went,
waving our hats in answer to the hearty cheers of the sailors. It was down
hill from McAlpin's to the first bridge, and so far we had nothing to care
for, except to keep a look-out we were not shaken of