As down his pack came bounding,
Spurning the canyon walls,
Scattering pots and dishes,
Leaping the waterfalls.
The packers looked in terror
To see the cook come too
As past their dizzy erie
The clanging luggage flew;
When anxiously they hailed him,
The cook, he only swore:
"If I survive this picnic
So help me—nevermore."
A Raid on the Seal Rookeries
The tale was told by a hunter bold
Of a sealing schooner's crew,
Of a midnight raid where the breakers played
On reefs that the offing strew.
"In Behring Sea they tell," said he,
"How Hansen, in the 'Adele,'
Waiting for night, with never a light,
Dared the reefs and ocean swell.
"A rascal bold, in misdeeds grown old,
He had raided far and wide;
But never before in the sealers' lore
Had the Pribilof[1] reefs been tried.
"But an Aleut[2], by his sealskin boot
And the grave of his father, swore
For a keg of booze and a pair of shoes
To sell their secret, and more.
"So Hansen knew to a yard or two
Where the hidden ledges ran;
And the breakers' roar on the reefs and shore
Were guides to the daring man.
"The trailing kelp and a flash might help
Where the phosphorus burned bright,
For the deed was done past set of sun
When the stars were hid from sight.