FROM CORDOVA TO CATHAY.

to take me over, a distance of only one hundred miles. Even then, although
that day there happened four or five craft in port, the master of the dirty little
“turtler ” asked six pounds for a run of merely a night.

At last, came the day of deliverance ; the long-watched-for
sails came in, three in one day, and in one of these unwashed
“turtlers” I engaged passage to the island of my desires.
Captain and crew were black, and they lived on the windward
coast of Crooked Island.

Leaving Long Cay at dark, in a few hours we were off the
flashing light on Bird Rock, whence we took our departure for
Watling’s, and at daylight next morning I saw a long, low line
of landagainst the sky. It was the island we were seeking. But
the wind failed us for a while, and it was full noon before we could
reach the roadstead of Riding-Rocks and the shelter of the island’s
only settlement of Cockburn Town. Having my consular flag
with me, I had the captain hoist it, and we entered the harbor
with the stars and stripes displayed in all their glory. This
unexpected arrival, at the quiet port, of a “foreign craft” flying a flag that was
rarely seen there, threw all the town into consternation ; but no objection was
offered to my landing, as the boat was mine for the time being, having been
chartered by me, and I was, of course, entitled to fly the flag I liked best. This
was the view taken also by the Collector, a handsome Englishman, a retired
officer of Her Majesty’s navy, who was serving in this retired spot temporarily,
in order to secure a “ good-
service” pension. He wel-
comed me most cordially,
for strangers and news
were equally scarce, and
placed his services at my
command.

My arrival was most
opportune, for the whole
island was suffering from a
drought, and many people
were on the point of starva-
tion. Fortunately, I had
learned of their condition THE COAST OF WATLING’S ISLAND.
before leaving Fortune, and
had brought a supply of provisions sufficient for a month. It proved in such
demand that I had hardly any remaining at the end of the week. There was

absolutely nothing to be had, not.even milk or eggs, those last resorts of these
needy people.

 

MY “TURTLER.”’