A NARROW Escape from drowning, and, at the same time, an admirable instance of the value of coolness and presence of mind in the face of danger is thus recorded by the Hamilton, Canada, Spectator. It gives an account of the rescue of Mr. Bunbury, of Hamilton, and his daughter. After showing how a passing vessel noticed the capsized sloop, the Spectator goes on to say:
“Captain Irving was notified and got his glass set upon the object. He informed the passengers who had called his attention to it that it was a yacht on her side with two persons clinging to it. The steamer was headed for the yacht, and in a short time was alongside it. Then it was found that Miss Bunbury’s yacht had upset. The two passengers were picked up, and the young lady was rigged out in dry clothes and made comfortable. She did not appear to be the least bit concerned about the upset. ‘We were just three-quarters of an hour in the water,’ she said, looking at her watch, as she was lifted on deck.
“Mr. Bunbury had seen the squall coming, and was going to take in some of the canvas when the squall struck the boat. ‘Let go everything,’ he cried to his daughter, ‘and jump into the mainsail.’ The young lady obeyed with a promptness that perhaps saved her life. In a moment the boat was on her side, with the sail flat on the water, and the young lady on the sail. She picked herself up and stood on the centreboard, hanging on to the deck with both hands. The yacht was low in the water, and to raise it Mr. Bunbury dived into it and threw out the ballast. The young lady stood in the water up to her waist, while Mr. Bunbury was up to his neck, and when the boat lurched—a small sea having come up in the meantime—his head would go right under water.
“The young lady was made quite a heroine of by the passengers of the Macassa. She certainly deserves great credit for her pluck and presence of mind. Thomas Costen, one of the Macassa’s deck hands jumped into the water and assisted in getting the young lady and Mr. Bunbury on board. The yacht was afterward towed in by a steam launch.”
FISH LIVING IN HOT WATER.
THERE is a pond on the hay ranch at Golconda, which is fed by the waters from the hot springs. This pond has an area of two or three acres, and the temperature of the water is about 85°, and in some places, where the hot water bubbles up from the bottom, the temperature is almost up to a boiling point. Recently the discovery has been made that this warm lake is literally alive with carp, some of which are more than a foot long. All efforts to catch them with a hook and line have failed, as they will not touch the most tempting bait. A few of them have been shot, and, contrary to the general supposition, the flesh was hard and palatable. How the fish got into the lake is a mystery unsolved. Within too feet of it are springs which are boiling hot, and the ranchers in the vicinity use the water to scald hogs in the butchering season.
CARP FISHING.
THE New York Herald recently gave some advice to a correspondent who inquired as to the best method of getting some carp-fishing, which is so practical that it will bear repetition. It says: “At Little Falls, N. Y., you can obtain boats, although carp may be caught also from the shore. Carp may be taken in large numbers anywhere within ten miles above Little Falls. There is no law protecting carp, and they may be taken whenever and wherever anybody can find them. Use No. 3 or 4 hook, and fish on the bottom. Let the fish get a good hold before striking, as carp take the hook like suckers. They are often caught on worms used in fishing for other fish. If nothing but carp are wanted, a better bait is made of dough, mixed with cotton to keep it on the hook, or boiled peas.”
BOAT-RACING IN THE DARK.
A NUMBER of times during the past rowing season we noticed that unsatisfactory results were reached at the conclusion of a regatta, which anything like thoughtful management might have avoided. In two or three instances which might be called to mind, contestants were summoned to the starting-line at so late an hour that the shades of evening had fallen on the water. To start a boat race under such conditions is not only absurd and ridiculous, but fraught with danger to the men engaged in it, not to say anything of the numberless disputes likely to arise regarding the final result. In the first place, the referee cannot discharge the duties of his office properly if he is unable to see what is going on between the contestants, or how can a judge at the finish determine who crosses the line first when it is absolutely impossible to see distinctly three boats’ lengths ahead of him? In the Bowery Bay, a place that may become popular for racing with rowing men, and in the waters about the Staten Island Athletic Club’s boat-house, occurrences similar to those above referred to had practical illustrations within the past few weeks. In other sections of the country the practice of delay in starting boat races at an hour later than announced has become a positive nuisance. We propose to watch all sins of this kind in the future, and place the blame of such mismanagement where it belongs.