Stillwoods Lane

Stillwoods Lane is our driveway into Lots 2 through 5, waterfront lots on Stillwater Lake.

A signed agreement was executed on 8 January 2018 to build the roadway by StoneSage Contracting. By that time Parker-Longstaff Surveys had staked out the centreline. Reg MacKinnon of Hammonds Plains was contracted to do the tree cutting.

Here are a few photos of the progress to 22 January.

 Through the 45 years we have owned the property, we have endeavored to improve the woods as possible---we don't own any extracting forwarder or atv so we  don't cut down big trees even when they should be.

2018-02-03 The rough road is now down about 250 feet. The ground is freezing since it cooled to -13C from +7C yesterday. It is to warm up again tomorrow.

How to create a POD book in Canada

How to create a POD in Canada.

Create an author account at Library of Canada so that you can get an ISBN for your publication.

http://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/ciss-ssci/app/index.php?&lang=eng

At the site create the publication details...name, etc.

http://bookcovers.creativindie.com/free-online-isbn-barcode-generator/

At this site create your barcode using the ISBN from above.

We use Lulu.Com to create POD books. Our author page is here:

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/lulubook22

The Bucket List and Backhoe

The Bucket List and the Backhoe

I cannot remember a time when I did not dream of owning a backhoe and doing the projects that it presented, with 200 acres of resource property, the opportunities are limited only by imagination.

So, this year after the crops were in, I decided it was time to give this little dream a reality check. Now renting a backhoe is by no means cheap, in fact at over $1K a week, it is expensive, while buying a comparable size and featured unit is about $26K before taxes.

The Projects

I had to plan my week’s activity to make sure that I got my money’s worth.

· By the boathouse, if one was to drive straight out there is/was a big hole, making entrance to the boathouse difficult and the area useless for any activity-fill the hole, create a roadway. Three loads of fill required, any extra to be used filling low spots around the boathouse.

· On the road beyond the waterfront/boathouse there is one turn around that might someday make a fine spot for a greenhouse, storage shed. The area is too low now and floods when it rains. It requires two loads to enlarge and raise the area. (the roadway itself does flood with heavy rains but uncovers usually the next day.)

· At the end of this same roadway, at the waters edge, someone put in a boat launch, uncountable years ago. It would be nice to recover this launch site and have a second access, not associated with the boathouse. Two loads of fill required.

· Opposite the boat launch, the boathouse road is supposed to extend along the ‘peninsula’. One load of ditching fill had been placed there a couple of years ago and never levelled.

· It the garden there is numerous rocks, one has been exposed and should be removed.

· There are stumps that can be removed from the paths around the garden.

· In the spring we got 5 yards of raw manure that has been seasoning till fall. This had to be put in the garden.

· At the house, we had a blueberry plant to be removed; it cannot produce under an oak tree.

· And some lawnsoil has to be used.

· And a stump has persisted too long in the lawn South of the house.

So I ended up purchasing seven loads of fill, about $1K, to provide materials for my projects. We do have a bank of fill on the property line North of the boathouse but I can remember when I had a large excavator down to the spot. The operator bought new teeth for the unit because the fill, although ideal for roadbuilding, was so compacted that digging was difficult. By the end of his two days of work, these new teeth looked, to me, just like the old ones.

Where to rent

Bay rentals is very close to us, in fact two of TiBow’s walks start in their parking area. I checked their rates and balked. I also did check Kijiji, there was a picture of a small machine with a weekly rental of $700. Well the difference was inconsiderate compared with the size of the Kubota B-26.

On a ‘walk’ I saw the backhoe and went over to look at the controls and possibility, a lad came by and gave me a great sales pitch, really; going over all of the controls and outlining costs. He mentioned that the first day of use would be a wasted day as I learned the controls!

Fill delivered

So I decided to do the deed and ordered all the fill from John Vincent’s Trucking; he has effectively taken over the fill location that John Durling had retired from. Great fill, and Vincent had delivered to me before while he was working for Durling. While scouting out the fill, and the pit, I saw that there was a pile of black screened material nearby; Vincent described this as screened but not topsoil; it was just a mix of anything he found–and just a little pricier than regular fill—which was still the same price as fill from Kynock’s.

At Bay Rentals

The weather this fall has been terrific, in some way making up for some of this abysmal summer. The week of November 11, was scheduled to have several great days followed by a monsoon day on Friday, Day 5.

At the Rental shop, the clerk wrote my request and details on a 2x4 sheet of blank paper as I said I wanted the backhoe delivered late Monday. When he arrived at 3:30, we went down to the boathouse to unload and check out on the unit. The introduction was not great, we went over few of the controls, and there are a great number of them. The seat would not rotate from ‘driving’ to backhoe position. After a call to the office, and some playing around he did manage to rotate the seat. That was that, he left and I was on my own. I had seven days and 40 hours to work, play or waste.

One piece of advice, that is obvious IF you think about it, is to keep the loader bucket low when transporting anywhere. These things are tippy.

First Experiences

With only two hours before dark, my initiation was severe. I decided to start with the boat launch project—the sight furthest from anybody seeing the mistakes! My fill included a lot of boulders; it’s all granite based so it can does make an excellent base. My first problem was turning that f**kin seat. By darkness it was apparent that it was tough to rotate the seat, yet alone move the fill!

So, having stated that the bank by the boathouse is geologically similar to the fill from John’s pit, the big difference is that the delivered material differs in that the biggest rocks are not included. Anyone who has been at our property knows that our boulders range upward to beyond car size. John has selected out so that the largest rocks might be 18” in longest dimension, most are rounded in shape. Starting out bumping into a hidden rock of these dimensions with the loader is, well, a bit shocking!

The loader has but one joystick to control it; up and down of the bucket, and tilting the bucket up and down, simple right? Well to this we have to add that you always have to propel the machine forward or backward in order to acquire a bucket full. That first two hours demonstrated that digging out the fill was not going to work—besides the fill was to be spread beyond where it was piled and there was no way to drive beyond…

Turning the seat—remember that problem—the backhoe should be able to push these two loads towards their destination. The visioned little roadway to the water’s edge, where we could put our bench and have a tranquilized view of Lake and loons; that was the objective. The reality was that I was now dealing with two joysticks, boom up and down left and right, and let’s say, jib, in and out, bucket, in and out. I should add that I never play video games and I could never quite master Luke’s radio controlled cars.

Evening did require a few beer. Was this experience going to work out? And I even dreamed about the hoe, the controls and the fill. I did have a plan and a list of all the projects, so I had objectives and rough timeframes for my week.

Day 1 - was the official playday a time to learn all these controls. Added to this task was that I recognized that I really had to learn how to deal with fill that included boulders that in comparison to a little backhoe presented an additional difficulty.

Now I like a little Zen with my landscaping, I wanted a nice little curve to the roadway. I did discover that the only way to deal with this load of fill in this situation was to push the pile, depositing the fill as I proceeded waterside. And work it was. I had trees I wanted to pass but not harm and boulders that should be ‘first in’ and covered. Day was done by five and although there was a mess and not much of a subtle curve to the grading, I had hoed and loaded my way as far as the fill provided, since my learning skills had been tested and the fill went much wider than envisioned.

All of us have probably seen what happens when a grader comes across a solitary boulder in a roadway; the boulder invariably gets caught up and being dragged along creates an ugly gouge in an otherwise perfect roadway. Well try multiplying the boulder by hundreds and the size of the boulder, comparatively by the same, add to that the fact that the loader and bucket are fixed, in parallel, so that if the bucket or the tractor are angled, then the roadways attitude is so fixed.

Gail happened to take off Tuesday, and her days off are rare. She came down after the first two lots were planed into a field instead of a meandering driveway, but I received no real criticism of my first project and she took a few photos for our history books.

Nightime in day one – I don’t know about this; it is not fun yet. I seem to have no idea what the results of my joystick movements are going to be. Even with the loader, the simple loader, sometimes my actions with the joystick result in moving the front wheels up instead of lifting the bucket up…will I be able to ‘learn’ these controls? I should add that there are dangers in using even ‘puppy’ backhoes. When your piles of fill are six feet tall and your pathway is bordered by steep banks, when you push to the side and the machine moves instead of the fill, all these present problems and trepidations. But at least I did manage to move two loads of fill.

Day 2 – As I described, leveling up a boulder strewn roadway of fill is problematic. First thing, I did another attempt at pushing or pulling that roadway to present a better appearance, and in the process I concluded, that’s not too bad.

Next back a distance to a load of fill that’s been on the property, for free, for a couple of years, old ditching material. Now this overgrown mound had no intentions of ever being touched by my loader, too fixed, to massive and firmly situated between two trees, a pine and a maple, that I really wanted to keep, for now. So the backhoe was the only option and pushing the load straight forward, off the banks, the only option. Blue granite, mud and weeds was the composition of this mixture. The maximum span of the hoe is probably twelve feet and the nearest the bucket touches ground is probably three feet from the machine so that at best we might expect to move material about six feet per setup. That’s theory, reality is quite different. The most obvious flaw in all this is that the machine is so powerful that if you toggle the control in a wrong direction then there is the opportunity to push the machine around instead of the fill. I am reminded that Marc Flynn has been described at one time as being ‘one with his machine’; am I ever going to see that day?

So with the machine moving around, with the fill being so firmly stuck in its place, I spent most of the remainder of this day pushing this one load of fill beyond the two trees. Rough leveling, it was not pretty either but the pile disappeared and became a very short roadway, very very short.

Nearing the end of day two, we moved over to the boathouse, where all eyes would be on the results. I had thought that the rough, granite fill would be delivered first, closest to the ‘hole’, and that the so called fines would be delivered, forming a triangle where I would work between the two finer corners, pushing the rough fill in the hole. John delivered the fine fill in one tall spot. And I am thankful for that, now.

It made for an easier push where the driveway was level and the area so open, progress was going well when I headed for nightfall and a beer with, now, some vision of progress. This evening I could savour my labours a bit, even looking forward to tomorrow, though I was sore from the work, yes it is work!

Day 3 – Fill to complete and then to our fines that should make leveling easier. Though rotating that seat was still near impossible, I am getting the hang of it, being able to adjust from wrong joystick movements quicker, and setup is becoming more of a routine.

All the same this little tractor has a lot more controls that were never explained to me. Why is there only one-half of a seatbelt while there is a warning to use it? There seems to be a three point hitch in the back with two arms that almost make rotating the seat impossible. On the fenders are at least two more levers that do what? And below the seat and at the backhoe are at least three more levers.

By lunchtime-naptime the granite fill has been rough graded and readied for ‘topsoil’. I should mention that poor TiBow, who is with me always, never fails to watch me and is not amused by this new and dangerous playtoy. She does continue to get her hour long walk each morning before I go hoeing.

In the afternoon I start using up the topsoil. It is a pleasure to work with this since the loader is ideal in this material. Grading, leveling is still an issue that I don’t have much of a handle on. I am admiring my ability to estimate how much material is required, since I have lots of leftover topsoil and I want to raise and level several spots in from, waterside of the boathouse.

By end of Day 3, I am exhausted but roughly I am on schedule. Time for a beer, eh! This could be fun, but as to buy a backhoe? I don’t know, it has take $1K in materials to feed it for 3 days!

Summary – back at the boathouse, all of the topsoil is distributed. Leveling is still, well, ugly, made worse by such obstacles as the boathouse, fireplace, and all the bushes.

Now before the fill was completed, I did want to remove that one big boulder from the garden. It had presented like a big open sore in the garden for two years. In with the hoe, it became evident that this blemish was not going easy. But the machine and its master were up to it and this two footer was clawed up and buried in our roadway—another task done!

Next there was the manure, which was by a roadway and near some rocks which I though might present more of an obstacle than they did. Six more trips through the garden and all of the easy pickins were deposited. Days end was early on Thursday, one stump removed, more attempts a leveling each worksite, and preparation for a major rain event on Friday, Nov 11, to be completed. On the way up, Rob is working with his full size backhoe with cabin; it’s interesting to see what a good operator can do. His backhoe is ‘tight’ and now I can appreciate what that means, no rattling about when a movement is started or stopped.

And later to a few beer.

Day 4 – Monsoon Day as predicted with about four inches of rain.

Day 5 – Saturday with all of the essential work completed we let the ground dry out in the morning and Luke and I played in the bank above the boathouse a bit in the afternoon with Johanna Hoyt relieving us a little later. Unlike Luke and I, with ‘slash and learn’ technique, Jo thought out each movement before executing it. Took a few pictures and Luke had his Apple phone for photos and video.

Day 6 – Sunday, Denyse came by; her technique was just like Jo’s, thinking through each operation. We separated rocks from the bank and filled the turn area going towards our home from the entry. This area we also grubbed a bit so that the turn is much smoother and larger. Lots of photos and videos.

Day 7 – Monday, I filled a couple of holes going onto the peninsula, and used up some of the good fill and rocks nearby the bank, cleaning up the work area. Up at the house, I dug up one stump and cleaned up the lawnsoil on the driveway. They picked up the machine about 5:00 PM. I am satisfied and tired.

Costs- 7 loads of fill $920. Backhoe rental $1368.50. and beer…

Concerning Garlic

Concerning Our Garlic

Our family loves Garlic; since Gail is such a good cook, we use lots of it. We plan on one bulb of garlic a week or 52 a year. Garlic stores well, we are using it to just about when we bring in the next crop.

Garlic is planted just after the first real frosts, about the second week of October. It is planted so that the top is covered by an inch of soil, then two inches of light mulch is applied over the soil. Garlic is planted in rows of 3, rows six inches apart as are the cloves within the rows. At least 18” is reserved between the row groups, for any weeding.

As mentioned we plan on 52 bulbs for consumption per year. There are on average 4 cloves per bulb, so 52/4= 13 bulbs are required just for planting the following season. So now we are up to 66 cloves required. We plant 100, since we have lots of demands for our almost fist sized Ophio garlic; it is rare for a clove to die overwinter.

Good soil is required for a good crop; light, high compost soil is recommended and an airy location, moderate sun and water. The crop is gathered about August 15, when about half of the leaves, the bottom ones, have died.

Doug Frizzle - Stillwater Lake, Nova Scotia 2010

Bimshaw, The Pirate (part 6 of 6)

BIMSHAW, THE PIRATE

By A. HYATT VERRILL

ILLUSTRATED BY WALT LOUDERBACK

From The American Boy magazine, April, 1919. Digitized by Doug Frizzle May 2010.

CHAPTER XIII (Continued) – Part 6 of 6

GROMMET LEGS!" I shouted, as I caught sight of him who sprang upon our deck, and, dashing forward, grasped his hand.

For a moment he peered at me narrowly beneath his bushy brows. "Aye, an' who be ye?" he asked, and then, as it dawned upon him, cried, "By glory! 'Tis the dead come back; 'tis Bim—"

"Hist," I warned him in a whisper, "speak not that name." And in a louder voice I cried, "Aye, 'tis me —Geoffrey Greaves, old shipmate. By the bones o' Drake! 'Tis wondrous tale ye must ha' to tell, Ben."

"Gad! but it does me ol' eyes good to look ye in the face," he roared. "How be ye, lad, and where be the boy, Brand? Sink me! but it seems but yesterday since I saw ye carted off amongst the dead i' Nevis; and after all these years to find ye a-comin' i' the nick o' time to help win my ship and treasure from these bloody mutineers."

As we talked I'd led him aft into my cabin, for I had no mind that the gaping men who stood about should hear our talk, or chance word let slip, which might tell them what we'd been ill times long past. Then, safe within the cabin, I told to Ben my tale, relating all that had occurred from that time when, struck down by the Redcoat's pistol ball, I'd last seen Grommet Legs, until I'd come unto the harbour.

To all this he listed, now and then uttering a word of wonder or surprise, and when I'd ended he ex­claimed:

" 'Tis wondrous, lad—aye, passing wondrous—an' to think o' ye an’ Brand a-bein' freed by yon earthquake! Aye, 'twas a miracle—naught else. And ye a-gettin' o' King's pardons, and most of all a-turnin' up here all standin' i' the nick o' time to run afoul o' your ol' ship­mate. By glory, lad! 'Tis the hand o' Providence as guided ye, naught else, and ye can lay to that. An' now I'll spin my yarn—'tis strange enough, but naught 'long-side o' yourn.

"When the Redcoats bore us down, Brand and me, they lugged us off to town, as ye know, but as we went my mind was ever busy a-thinkin' o' means to win free, and many a hint I gave to him as had me in tow of treasure I'd hid. I could easy see his mouth a-waterin' o'er the thought of it, an' when they clapped me under hatches i' the prison I heard him a-whisperin' to the turnkey. Ye were a bit inexperienced, lad, an' had no chance aside, for ye was cast i' the well afore ye'd gained thought or speech. But I was a wise ol' fox, lad, an' knew the power o' gold and I misdoubted they'd do me harm, an' they thought by parleyin' they'd gain the treasure as I'd hid.

" AN' SO it fell out; they threated an' blustered for a bit, but I laughed i' their faces an' held my tongue. The more they talked the more I knew they'd do naught—they'd ha' no chance to put their fists i' loot o' mine an' they did me harm, and torture'd help 'em not, for wi'out me at the helm they was all aback and e'en if they drew the names o' the spots by rack or fire they'd no be sure of finding o' the loot. So arter a bit they hoisted flag o' truce and began a-trying to make terms with me.

"For a bit we backed an' filled, a-strivin' to get to wind'ard o' one another, for I swore I'd no gi' hint o' where the loot lay an' they no gave safe conduct for Brand as well as me. Faith! an' I'd ha' made terms for ye as well, Bimshaw, but wi' me own eyes I'd seed ye cast i' cart among the dead an' they swore ye was a'ready buried—which was mortal truth, save ye was buried alive i'stead o' dead—an' deep grieved I was to think on it. At last they came to terms an' all was ready for a-signin' o' the papers, when along comes the earth­quake an' carried away all standin', and sends 'em to Davy Jones like a ship what's struck 'twixt wind and water. An' where was I, ye ask; why. a-settin' on a bench i' the prison yard a-eatin' o' good grub wi' a mug o' ale alongside, an' whilst others was a-prayin' an' a-screechin' as walls tumbled 'bout their ears, I grabs up my bench an' sets a course for high land. 'Twas a rum feelin', lad—a monstrous rum feelin'—to be a-footin' it over ground as rose an' fell like waves o' the sea, and more 'an once was I hove down on my beam ends. An' then, with a rush an' a roar, comes the sea and catches of me in the stern like a jolly boat i' heavy surf. But wi' my fine bench to hold me up I floated atop o' the crest and was dropped down safe an' sound, but a-blowin' like a grampus, athwart a palm tree. Then a-droppin' o' the bench, for 'twas no time to be a-settin' down to rest, I bore off up the hill and afore next wave came a-roarin' in I was high an' dry i' a snug berth i' the cane. 'Twas monstrous dark and naught could I see o' town or sea, and then comes the thunder an' the hurricane, an', a-crawlin' on hands an' knees, I made to loo'ard under bare poles and come to anchor i' a bit o' cave i' the bluff. When day broke never a sight o' town could I see, naught was left, an' all the shore was deep wi' wreckage an' bodies. Here an' there was livin' folk a-searchin' for friends or kin, or a-ravin' an' a-screechin' at the fate as had befell 'em. But I had naught to grieve for—I was free —an' none gave me heed or thought i' their trouble, an', thinkin' only to escape from off the island, I made my way by path an' by cane field to our place. 'Twas but a blackened ruin and my heart misgave me as I thought o' the happy days we'd had there, an' now none but me left. The cutter was safe, though driven aground by the storm, an' gatherin' a load o' fruit an' yams an' a-fillin' a jug wi' water, I piled 'em in the boat, and arter a bit o' trouble shoved her off an' set sail.

'"Twas St. Croix I made for, and, gainin' the islan' safe, I told u' the ruin o' Jamestown an' found berth as bosun aboard a ship bound for New England. For years I sailed the seas i' merchantmen, a-workin' up to mate an' a-savin' o' my money, until six months agone when we ran afoul o' pirates off the Barbary Coast. By the Jolly Roger! 'twas a sweet fight, but the black­amoors were naught like the Brethren, lad, an' we won the day an' took their ship to boot—though many a one we lost and our standin' riggin' was a wreck. Our cap'n was among the slain and wi' my share o' prize money, and what I'd saved, I bought a interest i' the ship and took my place as master.

"And so, wi' a stout ship to command and a-tradin' through the islan's, I set my mind on a-gatherin' o' the loot I'd buried here and there i' days long gone, for I'd had enough o' piratin'; an' swore I'd leave the sea an' live in peace an' honesty the rest o' my days.

"The loot as I'd hid i' Beata an' Tortuga I put safe aboard an' then sailed for here, but the men were a pack o' ruffians an' cutthroats, and thinkin' to ha' the treasure to theysel's they mutinied an' sought to murder me an' those as stood by me. But we beat 'em off, an', takin' to their boat, they gained the ship an' trained the guns upon us, and all the rest ye know."

AND NOW we'd heard one another's yarns, we talked of future plans, and hard I strove to have him come with me and dwell together with us at our home. But he would have naught of this, and shook his head to all my pleas.

"Nay," said he, "ye an' Brand ha' pardons, but I ha' none. Long ha' I lived i' dread o' comin' to a pirate's end, and I ha' no mind to dwell where there be laws or hangmen, lad. Naught would gladden me more—ye know that well—but I ha' other plans i' mind. Wi' the wealth I ha' I'm a-settin' course to a bit o' land where none lives, Swan Island, 'tis called, a sunny spot wi' palms an' white beaches as no nation owns. An' there I mind to make my home an' live an' die i' peace. Wi' a crew o' blacks to work the soil, and a trim bit o' craft to sail forth when I list, I'll be mine own king, law, and master. But I'll sail along o' ye, Bimshaw, till the last o' the treasure's safe under hatches, and right glad I'll be to welcome ye and Brand and his lady to my little kingdom, an' ye mind to make sail an' visit me."

Thus finding him firm, for Grommet Legs was not one to yield, once his mind was made, I let him have his way and promised we would visit him ere long. Then, having set the captives ashore to be marooned, and having placed some of my crew upon Ben's ship to take their places, we sailed forth together from the bay.

To every isle and cay whereon we'd hid ill-gotten gains in days of old, we cruised, and marvelous was the treasure that we garnered. Doubloons and pistoles, louis d'or and pieces of eight; bullion from many a mine of gold and silver; trinkets and gewgaws; sacks of uncut emeralds; bundles of richest silks and bales of velvet; flashing gems and jewel-encrusted arms of rich hidalgos, and pearls that shone like prisoned moon­light—aye, a treasure worthy the ransom of a king.

And so, at last, together we came unto the Bahamas, and glad indeed was I that I had borne in mind the way the noseless one had steered the Adventure, when flee­ing before the Dons, through the treacherous channels.

But even though I'd noted well the course and land­falls, yet I had not the chart on which I'd marked it, and slowly and with great care we picked our way between the reefs and shoals towards that isle whereon we'd hid the last of all our plunder, the loot from Santa Ysabel.

And as we anchored in the little bay and once again I looked upon the palm-fringed beach, the years were swept away and in my mind I seemed once more to stand beneath the Jolly Roger a pirate captain, flushed with late victories—for naught had changed; each rock and tree I recognized, and 'neath the shadow of the palms I saw the ruined hut wherein my crew had lived when on the isle.

No hand had found the hidden cave; within it our treasures were untouched, and as I looked again upon the jewels of the Donna Mercedes my heart sickened at thought of wrongs I'd done, while through my dark thoughts came a light of joy that I had saved her and her courtly father. And much I wondered would that act, in her eyes, in part redeem my past, and from my lips went forth a silent prayer that it was so.

Also was I glad that the pretty baubles had fallen not to other hands, that never would they be bartered for debauchery or vice, but would find a fitting resting place with her whom Brand had chosen for his mate.

Perchance old Grommet Legs read what was passing in my mind, as fondly and reverently I lifted the jewels in my hand, or mayhap he'd planned already to send a token unto Brand. Whichever 'twas he roused me from my thoughts by speaking:

"Look ye here, lad," he cried, "I ha' enough an' to spare an' I mind to gi' Brand's lady a bit o' present as well as ye. Take ye these chests o' mine an' gi' 'em to the lad an' his wife from me. Aye, an' my share o' Margarita's pearls as well. Doubloons an' bullion serve me better than such womanly trinkets, and 'twill do my ol' heart good to know she be a-wearin' o' some bit o' mine about her pretty neck. Women be ever fond o' such things, lad, an' I be far too ol' to think o' taking-woman to wife mysel'"—the old fellow chuckled at the thought—"so gi' 'em to her as we both love for sake o' Brand."

"Aye, gladly will I gi' them in your name," I cried, "even though ye be a villainous old pirate who thinks so little o' old friends he'll no come to make their hearts glad by dwelling with 'em." And then, like two beard­less boys, we fell to laughing and joking in the cave, while about us the jewels in their chests flashed back the flare of our torches in a thousand hues.

CHAPTER XIV

WHEN, at last, with all our riches safely stowed, we sailed forth from the cay, our hearts grew heavy with thought of again parting, for though we'd been Godless, black-souled pirates in the past, yet, tough old rascals that we were, our love and friendship were passing great.

For long years had we faced death and peril together, in many a hard-won battle had we fought shoulder to shoulder; through many a storm-tossed sea and lashing hurricane had we stood watch upon the heaving decks of the Adventure, and a score of times and more each had saved the other's life. Through fair wind and foul we'd shared the rough life of the Breth­ren 'neath the Jolly Roger, and, together, we'd left the sea and settled down to dwell in peace in Nevis, and to forget our black deeds.

Not till we'd been hounded by the Redcoats had we parted, since first we'd met under Hawkins' colors, and ever like brothers had we been. And when, on that wild and fearful night, I'd drawn Brand upon my bit of wreckage and had found that Ben was gone, my heart had been sore grieved indeed, to think my rough-and-ready old comrade was no more. Then, when through such strange ways I'd once more found him hale and hearty, joy such as I'd not known for years was mine; and now again we were to part, for Grommet Legs still vowed he'd never dwell where law might reach him, and naught could sway him from his plans. So, to­gether, we sailed southward through the Windward Passage and past Cape Tiburon, and heaving-to in Navassa's Lee we said our last farewells. Then towards the east I steered, and to the south and west his ship bore on, and each upon his after deck we stood, while wider and wider swept the sea between, until, beyond the ocean's rim, the gleaming sails dropped down and out of sight.

But though I'd parted with my old-time shipmate, yet the thought of once more greeting Brand, and her whom he was bringing back to share our home, drove much of my regret from out of my mind.

Moreover, in my heart, I knew full well old Grommet Legs were better off and safer in his lair upon the tiny distant isle than with us upon the plantation, and I'd no doubt he'd be happier as well. Glad was I to think the grizzled old pirate had given up the corsair's life, for he'd plenty of money to spend the rest of his days in peace and was ever too kind-hearted and too true to be tempting the hangman's noose by such villainous ways. But I'm getting off my course, and must 'bout ship and tack, for what passed through my mind is of little moment, and, truth to tell, I can say naught, for it ill becomes me to prate or preach, who, for so many years, was a notorious captain 'neath the black flag.

At last, one morn, the dim and cloud-like loom of land was seen ahead, and hourly it grew and took on form until, by midday, the towering, green-clad mountains and lovely valleys of our home were close aboard.

But I had no mind to enter at the port with all my store of treasure, for well I knew 'twould raise the curiosity of those about and questions would be asked which would be full hard to answer.

And so, the wind being light in the lee of the land and the afternoon waning, we drifted idly along the coast until, night falling, we worked into the cove afore the plantation, and, coming to anchor close to the beach, prepared to land the precious cargo I had brought.

For long we labored in the darkness, the crew rowing the chests and sacks ashore and my slaves carrying them to the vaults beneath the house. Perchance it may seem strange that I feared not my men might betray me, but with my wealth I knew full well I could buy their silence for all time, and none I had whom I knew not or could not trust, or who had not been with me for many years. But most of all I trusted to the power of gold. Long had I dealt with wild and reckless men, and with those of peaceful lives as well, and while some might bite the hand that fed them, yet few are those who think of aught but their own welfare, and so long as my men gained more from me than would befall them did they carry the tale of my loot to others, I dreaded not they would tell aught of my cruise or of what they'd seen thereon.

I'll not gainsay I had misdoubts at times, but there was naught else I could do—lest I followed the villain­ous ways of some and killed them all when they had served my turn. So, paying them well in good gold, and promising that they would never want and that each month would receive a goodly sum, I gave up all doubts and cast worries aside.

Having landed all the treasure, we hoisted anchor, and, with the freshening breeze of dawn, sailed onward to the town. None guessed what vast wealth lay hid beneath the house, and well content was I that it was safely there and ready to Brand's use, for I minded it should be all his, save a good store of golden coin I set aside for such youngsters as might be his in future times.

Then, everything being accomplished, I set myself to await his coming with his bride.

And when at last the ship that bore them came into the port I knew it not, being engaged upon a distant part of the plantation, and so, ere I dreamed that they were near, a coach drew up before the gallery steps and from it Brand leaped down.

Filled with joy, I hurried down the steps, but ere I reached him a dainty lass stepped forth beside him.

AT SIGHT OF HER my heart seemed to stand still, my tongue was robbed of speech, and my knees trembled weakly 'neath my weight, for the lovely lady whose hand rested on Brand's arm was Mercedes !

Aye, 'twas she beyond a doubt, though wondrous beautiful she'd grown during the years that had passed by since last I saw her. Those eyes, which once I'd seen so filled with mortal terror of the ruffian standing over her, were now soft and glorious with love, and those sweet lips, from which had come that piteous cry for mercy, now parted in a smile of happiness and joy.

For a space I stood there, wide-eyed and gaping like the dolt I was, and then upon my muddled brain it dawned that though I knew her, yet she knew me not, and, gathering my wits together, I greeted Brand and Mercedes in such words as I could find tongue to utter. But if I was wonderstruck at sight of Mercedes, 'twas naught to that wonder which was soon to fill her, when, within the house, I brought forth and laid my wedding gifts before her.

With little cries of pleasure and delight she lifted the lustrous pearls of Margarita; her eyes gleamed and her breath came short through parted lips as she saw the myriad colored fires shot forth from diamonds, emer­alds, and rubies, and, like a child, she clapped her hands and laughed, as from their resting place she drew trinket after trinket of dull, yellow gold ablaze with gems.

One chest yet remained, a rough case in which I'd placed the casket I'd found in Santa Ysabel, and this Brand opened for her.

A single glance she took within, and then her face went white, her eyes grew wide, and with a strange, half startled cry she turned and gazed with puzzled, searching look into my face. "Where, oh, Uncle Geof­frey, where—" she cried, and then her eyes lighted with sudden knowledge, and, ere I knew what she was about, she flung herself upon me and pressed a kiss upon my leathery old cheeks.

"Now I know," she cried in her pretty foreign way, as, half sobbing, half laughing, she clung to me. "You are the dear, good Señor who saved me from that dreadful pirate at Santa Ysabel. Oh, I'm so glad, so happy, yes. My thoughts have been of you so many times, and who you were, and if I'd ever see you more I wondered, and now—now, I find you my own Uncle Geoffrey."

'Twas wondrous reward for the little I had done, and happy was my heart to think that all unwittingly I'd given joy to her to whom I owed so much.

There's little more to write. To Mercedes I frankly told my past, sparing not to bare my villainy, but she, dear little lady, forgave me my black days of wicked­ness, and vowed I was no pirate, but a gallant gentle-man, at which I roared with laughter. And then from her own lips I heard the story of how she and her courtly father had flown from Santa Ysabel until the pirates left. How the Viceroy, accusing him of cow­ardice, had sent him forth to Spain in chains (and my blood boiled hot within me as I heard, for if ever brave man drew breath, 'twas the old Don).

And then, continuing her tale, she told me how, beset by storm, the ship had driven north; how, fearing 'twas foundering, the cowardly crew had taken to the boats and left her and her father to their fate, and how, at last, sturdy, kind-hearted men had seen the drifting vessel from the shore and, going forth through the perilous surf, had rescued the two and brought them safe ashore.

There, finding those amid whom they had been cast more kindly than those of their own race, they settled down and in Virginia had prospered and had dwelt in peace and happiness. At last the old Don, dying, had left Mercedes mistress of a fair estate, but heartsick, sad, and lonely, until Brand found her and brought her love and happiness anew.

MANY YEARS have passed since Brand brought Mercedes into our home and never since has aught come out of the past to haunt us or to mar our lives.

And, looking back, I know how wonderful are the ways of God, and through what strange and crooked channels must one cruise when fate is at the helm. Thus, from my villainy has come good; from sack and slaughter has come love and joy and, from my ill-gotten gold, has come charity and help to the unfortunate. Black-hearted pirate have I been—mayhap naught I have done or may ever do will wipe the bloodstains from my hands and soul—but to Brand and Mercedes my past matters not; to their youngsters, who clamber o'er my knees and beg for yarns, I be naught save a wrinkled, gray-headed playfellow, and, when the time comes and I set sail for my last port, I'll fear me not to pass that bar beyond which none may see.

THE END