Pocket Island, by Charles Clark Munn
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Title: Pocket Island A Story of Country Life in New England
Author: Charles Clark Munn
Release Date: December 8, 2006 [EBook #20057]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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OTHER BOOKS BY CHARLES CLARK MUNN
UNCLE TERRY. A Story of the Maine Coast. Richly bound in crimson silk cloth with gold and vignette of heroine. Illustrated by HELENA HIGGINBOTHAM. Gilt top. 370 pp. Price, $1.50.
See description in back of book.
ROCKHAVEN. The Story of a Scheme. (In preparation. To be published in the Spring of 1902.)
See announcement in back of book.
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POCKET ISLAND
A Story of Country Life in New England
By
CHARLES CLARK MUNN
Author of "Uncle Terry" and "Rockhaven"
New York International Association of Newspapers and Authors 1901
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Copyright, 1901, by Charles Clark Munn
All Rights Reserved
POCKET ISLAND
NORTH RIVER BINDERY PRINTERS AND BINDERS NEW YORK CITY, N. Y.
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CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE Pocket Island 11
CHAPTER II.
The Sea Fox 18
CHAPTER III.
Nemesis 24
CHAPTER IV.
The Boy 31
CHAPTER V.
The Boy's First Party 41
CHAPTER VI.
Serious Thoughts 49
CHAPTER VII.
Liddy 58
CHAPTER VIII.
The Husking-Bee 66
CHAPTER IX.
Good Advice 74
CHAPTER X.
History 82
CHAPTER XI
War Clouds 91
CHAPTER XII.
A Day in the Woods 100
CHAPTER XIII.
The Girl I Left Behind Me 107
CHAPTER XIV.
Beside the Camp Fire 117
CHAPTER XV.
Mysteries 125
CHAPTER XVI.
The Grasp of Death 132
CHAPTER XVII.
Those Who Wait 137
CHAPTER XVIII.
A Few Bright Days 146
CHAPTER XIX.
Among the Wounded 156
CHAPTER XX.
Plans for Happiness 164
CHAPTER XXI.
Blue Hill 174
CHAPTER XXII.
The Maine Coast 182
CHAPTER XXIII.
Big Spoon Island 191
CHAPTER XXIV.
Pocket Island 199
CHAPTER XXV.
The Smuggler's Cave 208
CHAPTER XXVI.
The Fate of a Miser 216
CHAPTER XXVII.
Conclusion 224
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POCKET ISLAND.
CHAPTER I.
POCKET ISLAND.
In the year 185- a Polish Jew peddler named Wolf and a roving Micmac Indian met at a small village on Annapolis Bay, in Nova Scotia, and there and then formed a partnership.
It was one of those chance meetings between two atoms tossed hither and thither in the whirligig of life; for the peddler, shrewd, calculating and unscrupulous, was wandering along the Acadian shores driving hard bargains in small wares; and the Indian, like his race, fond of a roaming life, was drifting about the bay in a small sloop he owned, fishing where he would, hunting when he chose, stopping a week in some uninhabited cove to set traps, or lounging in a village drinking or gambling.
The Jew had a little money and, what was of more value, brains and audacity. He also knew the conditions then prevalent along the Maine coast, and all the risks, as well as the profit, to be obtained in smuggling liquor. Rum was cheap in Nova Scotia and dear in Maine. The Indian with his sloop formed one means to an end; his money and cunning the other. A verbal compact to join these two forces on the basis of share and share alike for mutual profit, was entered into, and Captain Wolf and the Sea Fox, as the sloop was named, with the Indian and his dog for crew, began their career.
As a preliminary some fifty kegs of assorted liquors, as many empty mackerel kits, a small stock of oil clothing, sea boots, fishing gear, tobaccos, etc., were purchased and stowed away on the sloop, and then she set sail.
There were along the coast of Maine in those days many uninhabited islands seldom visited. Fishermen avoided them, for the deep sea furnished safer and more profitable ground; coasters gave them a wide berth, and there were no others to disturb them. Among these, and lying midway between Monhegan and Big Spoon Islands, and distant from the Isle au Haut, the nearest inhabited one, about twenty miles, was a freak of nature known as "The Pocket," or Pocket Island, as shown on the maps. This merits a brief description. It was hollow. That is, from a general view it appeared like an attempt to inclose a small portion of the sea within high, fir-covered walls. It resembled a horseshoe with the points drawn close. Neptune beat Jove, however, leaving a narrow fissure connecting the inclosed water and the outer ocean, and through this the tides flowed fiercely; but so protected was the inner harbor that never a ripple disturbed its surface. It was this harbor that gave the island its name.
Occasionally a shipwreck occurred here. In 1842 the British barque Lancaster was driven on to this island in a winter night snowstorm, and all hands perished. Five of the crew were washed ashore alive, only to freeze among the snow-covered rocks. The vessel went entirely to pieces in one night and the wreck was not discovered
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