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his bunk, for his
charts and papers. Before this table there was a long bench, fixed
conveniently for sitting to read or write. This bench, together with three
strong barroom-chairs and four camp-stools, made up our
sitting-accommodations. From pegs over the divan and table there hung
a miscellaneous collection of powder-horns, rifles, fishing-tackle,
tarpauling-hats, rubber coats, and "sou'-westers;" nor had I failed to
bring along the old Sharpe's rifle which had done such good service
among the moose-stags of Katahdin.
... We had brought "Palmleaf" with us, and now installed him in the
galley. As a specimen of his art, we had him make muffins and tea that
evening. Very fair they were, with butter and canned peaches.
The men came down during the evening, having been previously
notified, and were assigned to their berths. We boys turned in at about
eleven, and were only aroused next morning by the rattle of blocks,
clank of the windlass, and trampling of feet, on deck.
"We're off!" exclaimed Raed, starting up. "Turn out, and say farewell to

'our native countree.'"
We stumbled up on deck; for it was still quite dark: only a pale-bright
belt along the ocean to the eastward showed the far-off coming of the
day. The shore and the village looked black as night. We were already
several hundred yards from the wharf. A smart, cold breeze gushed out
of the north-west. The huge, dim-white sails were filling: "The Curlew"
gathered way, and stood out to sea. The chilling breeze, the motion, the
ink-black waves, and their sharp cracking on the beach, were altogether
a little disheartening at first, coming so suddenly from sleep. We felt
not a little inclined to shrink back to our warm blankets; but, mastering
this feeling, braced our courage, and drew breath for our long cruise.
The captain came aft.
"Ah! good-morning!" he cried, seeing us huddled about the
companion-way. "I meant to get off without waking you. We made too
much noise. I suppose. Smart breeze this. Make ten knots on it, easy.
Could put you to the north pole in fifteen days with such a capful,--if
there were no ice in the way," he added.
"We might soon be at Hudson Straits were this to hold," laughed Kit.
"Yes, sir," replied the captain. "Eight days would do it. But of course
this is mere fine talk. You are not to look for any thing of the sort."
"We don't," said Raed. "But how long do you suppose it will take to
work up there with ordinary weather?"
"Oh! well, for a guess, eighteen days,--anywhere from eighteen to
twenty-five. Oughtn't to be over twenty-five with this schooner. Will
sail thirteen knots on a wind."
... We were now fairly clear of the shore. The wind freshened. "The
Curlew" dashed forward, rising and falling with the swells. The whole
east was reddening. The dark spar of the bow-sprit rose and fell through
it. It seemed a good omen to be going toward the light. Ere the sun met
us on the sea, we were twelve miles out of Gloucester....

Kit had often complained that he had been unable to write up the
account of our Katahdin expedition so well as he could have done had
he known beforehand that it would have fallen to Jim to do. At his
suggestion, Raed, Wade, and myself, this morning, drew lots to sea
who would be the historian of the present cruise. The reader, doubtless,
has already inferred which of us got the short lot. Well, it was fun for
the others, though any thing but fun for me. Nothing but a strong sense
of restraining shame, added to the rather inconvenient distance from
land, prevented me from deserting. Nature never designed me for a
writer. Of that I am convinced; and doubtless my readers will not long
differ with me. This is my first literary effort. If I know myself, it will
also be my last. Under these circumstances, I beg that such of my
young fellow-citizens as may happen to come upon this narrative (and I
am not ambitions to have the number large) will kindly forbear to
criticise it; for it will not bear criticism. Such of the facts and incidents
of our voyage as I have thought would be of interest I have tried to
write out. Strictly nautical terms and phrases I have sought to avoid:
first, because I believed them of no great interest to the general reader;
second, because, with this my first sea-trip, I have not become adept
enough in their use to "swing" them with the fluent grace of your
true-going, irresistible old salt; and from any other source they are, to
my mind, unendurable.
In the plan of education we have marked out for ourselves, it has not
been