The Pilot | Page 8

Munson, who
has kept a bright lookout for him ever since we made the land."
"Ay," muttered the lieutenant, "and I shall have a bright lookout kept
on him now we are on the land. I like not this business of hugging the
shore so closely, nor have I much faith in any traitor. What think you of
it, Master Coffin?"
The hardy old seaman, thus addressed, turned his grave visage on his
commander, and replied with a becoming gravity:
"Give me a plenty of sea-room, and good canvas, where there is no
occasion for pilots at all, sir. For my part, I was born on board a
chebacco-man, and never could see the use of more land than now and
then a small island to raise a few vegetables, and to dry your fish--I'm
sure the sight of it always makes me feel uncomfortable, unless we
have the wind dead off shore."
"Ah! Tom, you are a sensible fellow," said Barnstable, with an air half
comic, half serious. "But we must be moving; the sun is just touching
those clouds to seaward, and God keep us from riding out this night at
anchor in such a place as this."
Laying his hand on a projection of the rock above him, Barnstable
swung himself forward, and following this movement with a desperate
leap or two, he stood at once on the brow of the cliff. His cockswain
very deliberately raised the midshipman after his officer, and
proceeding with more caution but less exertion, he soon placed himself
by his side.
When they reached the level land that lay above the cliffs and began to
inquire, with curious and wary eyes, into the surrounding scenery, the
adventurers discovered a cultivated country, divided in the usual
manner, by hedges and walls. Only one habitation for man, however,

and that a small dilapidated cottage, stood within a mile of them, most
of the dwellings being placed as far as convenience would permit from
the fogs and damps of the ocean.
"Here seems to be neither anything to apprehend, nor the object of our
search," said Barnstable, when he had taken the whole view in his
survey: "I fear we have landed to no purpose, Mr. Merry. What say you,
long Tom; see you what we want?"
"I see no pilot, sir," returned the cockswain; "but it's an ill wind that
blows luck to nobody; there is a mouthful of fresh meat stowed away
under that row of bushes, that would make a double ration to all hands
in the Ariel."
The midshipman laughed, as he pointed out to Barnstable the object of
the cockswain's solicitude, which proved to be a fat ox, quietly
ruminating under a hedge near them.
"There's many a hungry fellow aboard of us," said the boy, merrily,
"who would be glad to second long Tom's motion, if the time and
business would permit us to slay the animal."
"It is but a lubber's blow, Mr. Merry," returned the cockswain, without
a muscle of his hard face yielding, as he struck the end of his harpoon
violently against the earth, and then made a motion toward poising the
weapon; "let Captain Barnstable but say the word, and I'll drive the iron
through him to the quick; I've sent it to the seizing in many a whale,
that hadn't a jacket of such blubber as that fellow wears."
"Pshaw! you are not on a whaling-voyage, where everything that offers
is game," said Barnstable, turning himself pettishly away from the beast,
as if he distrusted his own forbearance; "but stand fast! I see some one
approaching behind the hedge. Look to your arms, Mr. Merry,--the first
thing we hear may be a shot."
"Not from that cruiser," cried the thoughtless lad; "he is a younker, like
myself, and would hardly dare run down upon such a formidable force
as we muster."

"You say true, boy," returned Barnstable, relinquishing the grasp he
held on his pistol. "He comes on with caution, as if afraid. He is small,
and is in drab, though I should hardly call it a pea-jacket--and yet he
may be our man. Stand you both here, while I go and hail him."
As Barnstable walked rapidly towards the hedge, that in part concealed
the stranger, the latter stopped suddenly, and seemed to be in doubt
whether to advance or to retreat. Before he had decided on either, the
active sailor was within a few feet of him.
"Pray, sir," said Barnstable, "what water have we in this bay?"
The slight form of the stranger started, with an extraordinary emotion,
at this question, and he shrunk aside involuntarily, as if to conceal his
features, before he answered, in a voice that was barely audible:
"I should think it would be the water of