Wolfert Found Him At His Cabin, Which Was Not Much Larger Than A
Tolerable Dog-House.
It was rudely constructed of fragments of wrecks
and drift-wood, and built on the rocky shore, at the foot of the old
fort, just about what at present forms the point of the Battery.
A
"most ancient and fish-like smell" pervaded the place. Oars, paddles,
and fishing-rods were leaning against the wall of the fort; a net was
spread on the sands to dry; a skiff was drawn up on the beach, and at
the door of his cabin lay Mud Sam himself, indulging in a true negro's
luxury - sleeping in the sunshine.
Many years had passed away since the time of Sam's youthful adventure,
and the snows of many a winter had grizzled the knotty wool upon his
head. He perfectly recollected the circumstances, however, for he had
often been called upon to relate them, though in his version of the
story he differed in many points from Peechy Prauw; as is not
unfrequently the case with authentic historians. As to the subsequent
researches of money-diggers, Sam knew nothing about them; they were
matters quite out of his line; neither did the cautious Wolfert care to
disturb his thoughts on that point. His only wish was to secure the old
fisherman as a pilot to the spot, and this was readily effected. The
long time that had intervened since his nocturnal adventure had effaced
all Sam's awe of the place, and the promise of a trifling reward roused
him at once from his sleep and his sunshine.
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