Nature and Human Nature | Page 9

in the engagement, but he was
drunk and fell overboard. What is the cannonade of Sebastopool to that?
Why it sinks into insignificance."
He had hardly ceased speaking, when the wheels of a carriage were
heard rapidly approaching the door. Taking out his watch, and

observing the hour, he said: "Squire, it is now eleven o'clock. I must be
a movin'. Good bye! I am off to Halifax. I am goin' to make a night
flight of it. The wind is fair, and I must sail by daylight to-morrow
morning. Farewell!"
He then shook hands most cordially with me, and said: "Squire, unless
you feel inclined at some future day to make the tour of the States with
me, or somethin' turns up I am not availed of, I am afraid you have seen
the last Journal of your old friend 'Sam Slick.'"

CHAPTER II.
CLIPPERS AND STEAMERS.
Whoever has taken the trouble to read the "Wise Saws" of Mr Slick,
will be prepared to resume the thread of his narrative without
explanation, if indeed these unconnected selections deserve the
appellation. But as this work may fall into the hands of many people
who never saw its predecessor, it may be necessary to premise that our
old friend Sam, having received a commission from the President of the
United States, to visit the coast of Nova Scotia, and report to him fully
on the state of the fisheries, their extent and value, the manner in which
they were prosecuted, and the best mode of obtaining a participation in
them, he proceeded on his cruise in a trading vessel, called the "Black
Hawk," whereof Timothy Cutler was master, and Mr Eldad Nickerson
the pilot. The two preceding volumes contained his adventures at sea,
and in the harbours of the province, to the westward of Halifax. The
present work is devoted to his remarks on "nature and human nature."
While amusing himself fishing within three miles of the coast, off La
Haive, in contravention of the treaty, he narrowly escaped capture by
the British cruiser "Spitfire," commanded by Captain Stoker. By a
skilful manoeuvre, he decoyed the man-of-war, in the eagerness of the
chase, on to a sand-bar, when he dexterously slipt through a narrow
passage between two islands, and keeping one of them in a line
between the "Black Hawk" and her pursuer, so as to be out of the reach
of her guns, he steered for the eastern shore of Nova Scotia, and was
soon out of sight of the islands behind which his enemy lay embedded
in the sand; from this point the narrative is resumed in Mr Slick's own
words.1

1 His remarks on the fisheries I have wholly omitted, for they have now
lost their interest. His observations on "nature and human nature" are
alone retained, as they may be said to have a universal
application.--ED.
"I guess," said I, "Captain, the 'Spitfire' will have to put into Halifax to
report herself and be surveyed, so we may pursue our course in peace.
But this 'Black Hawk' is a doll, ain't she? don't she skim over the water
like a sea gull? The truth is, Cutler, when you ain't in a hurry, and want
to enjoy yourself at sea, as I always do, for I am a grand sailor, give me
a clipper. She is so light and buoyant, and the motion so elastic, it
actilly exilerates your spirits. There is something like life in her gait,
and you have her in hand like a horse, and you feel as if you were her
master, and directed her movements. I ain't sure you don't seem as if
you were part of her yourself. Then there is room to show skill and
seamanship, and if you don't in reality go as quick as a steamer, you
seem to go faster, if there is no visible object to measure your speed by,
and that is something, for the white foam on the leeward side rushes by
you in rips, raps, and rainbows like Canadian rapids.
"Then if she is an atrysilly1 like this, and she is doing her prettiest, and
actilly laughs again, she is so pleased, why you are satisfied, for you
don't make the breeze, you take it as you find it, like all other good gifts
of Providence, and say, 'ain't she going like wink, how she forges ahead,
don't she?' Your attention is kept alive, too, watchin' the wind, and
trimmin' sail to it accordingly, and the jolly 'Oh, heave oh,' of the
sailors is music one loves to listen to, and if you wish to take a stretch
for it in your cloak on deck, on the sunny or shady side of the
companion-way, the breeze whistles a nice soft lullaby for you, and you