"What Indian woman and what does she do there shrieking?" said the young lady.

"What! did you never hear dat story? and don't you know it's no old woman after all-but a ghost?

"A ghost!"

Ay-yes-a spook. I saw it one night when I got ashore on de flats just above de rock; and you may depend I was in a great hurry den for once in my life, I can tell you. It looked like de very old Duyvel, standing on de rock, and whetting a great jack-knife, as dey say."

"Who say?" asked Catalina.

Why, my fader and grandfader-who are both dead, for dat matter; but they told me de story before dey died. We shall have sixteen rainy Sundays one after de oder, and den it will clear up wid a great snowstorm."

"Yes?"

"Yes; as sure as you sit dere. It always happens after dat old woman shows herself, and screams so, like de very Duyvel."

"Do you know the story?" asked Colonel Vancour, whose attention had been arrested by the conversation.

"Know it! why, to be sure I do, colonel. I have heard it a hundred times from my fader and grandfader. He was de first man dat sailed in a sloop all de way from Albany to New-York."

"We can't have higher authority.. Come, captain-I see your pipe is just filled-tell us the story, and then I will go to sleep."

The worthy skipper said he was no great hand at telling a story; but he would try, if they would promise not to hurry him; and accordingly began:

Once dere was an old woman-duyvel! dere she is again!" exclaimed Baltus, as a long quaver echoed from the shore.

Well-well-never mind her; go on."

"Once dere was an old woman-" Here another quaver, apparently from the mast-head, stopped Baltus again, and made Catalina start.

Duyvel!" cried Baltus; "but if I don't pelieve she is coming apoard of us!"

"Well-never mind," said the colonel again; " she wants to hear whether you do her full justice, I suppose. Go on, captain."

"Once dere was an old woman," he began, almost in a whisper; when he was again interrupted by the black pilot, who came aft with a light, and asked Baltus whether it would not be better to haul down the sails, as he saw some appearance of wind towards the north-east, where the clouds had now obscured the moon entirely. "Don't be in such a hurry, Brom," quoth the skipper; " time enough when de wind comes."

Once dere was an old woman-" At that moment Brom's light was suddenly extinguished, and Baltus received a blow in the face that laid him sprawling on the quarter-deck, at the same instant that a tremendous scream broke forth from some invisible being that seemed close at their ears. Baltus roared manfully, and Catalina was not a little frightened at these incomprehensible manœuvres of the old woman. The colonel, however, insisted he should go on-bidding him get up and tell his story.

"Once dere was an old woman-" But the legend of honest Baltus, like Corporal Trim's story of "a certain king of Bohemia," seemed destined never to get beyond the first sentence. He was again interrupted by a strange mysterious scratching and fluttering, accompanied by a mighty cackling and confusion, in the chicken-coop, which the provident captain had stored with poultry for the benefit of the colonel and his daughter.

"Duyvel! what's dat?" cried Captain Baltus, in great consternation. "O, it's only the old woman robbing your henroost," replied the colonel.

"Den I must look to it," said Baltus, and mustering the courage of desperation, went to see what was the matter. In a few moments he returned, bringing with him a large owl, which had, from some freak or other, or perhaps attracted by the charms of Baltus's poultry, first lighted on the mast, and then, either seduced or confused by Brom's light, darted from thence into the capacious platter-face of the worthy skipper, as before stated.

"Here is de duyvel!" exclaimed Baltus.

And the old woman," said the colonel, laughing, "But come, captain, the more I see the more anxious I am to hear the rest of the story.' Once dere was an old woman- a hollow murmur among the mountains again suddenly interrupted him. "There is the old woman again," said the colonel. "'Tis de old duyvel!" said Baltus, starting up and calling all hands to let go the halyards. But before this could be accomplished, one of those sudden squalls, so common in the highlands in autumn, struck the vessel and threw her almost on her beam ends. The violence of the motion carried Colonel Vancour and Catalina with it, and had they not been arrested by the railings of the quarter-deck, they must inevitably have gone overboard. The Watervliet was, however, an honest Dutch vessel, of a most convenient breadth of beam, and it was no easy matter to capsize her entirely. For a minute or two she lay quivering and struggling with the violence of the squall that roared among the mountains and whistled through the shrouds, until, acquiring a little headway, she slowly luffed up in the wind, righted, and flapped her sails in defiance. The next minute all was calm again. The cloud passed over, the moon shone bright, and the waters slept as if they had never been disturbed. Whereupon Captain Baltus, like a prudent skipper as he was, ordered all sail to be lowered, and the anchor to be let go, sagely observing, "it was high time to look out for squalls."

66

Such an accident at sea would have been rather serious," observed the colonel.

"I don't know what you tink, colonel," said Baltus, "but, in my opinion, it don't make much odds wedder a man is drowned in de sea or in a river." The colonel could not well gainsay this, and soon after retired with his daughter to the cabin.

Bright and early the next morning, Captain Baltus, having looked round in every direction, east, west, north, and south, to see if there were any squalls brewing, and perceiving not a cloud in the sky, cautiously ordered half the jib and mainsail to be hoisted, to catch the little landbreeze that just rippled the surface of the river. In a few hours they emerged from the pass at the foot of the great Dunderbarrack, and slowly opened upon that beautiful amphitheatre into which nature has thrown all her treasures and all her beauties. Nothing material occurred worthy the dignity of our story to record during the rest of the passage. True it is that Skipper Baltus ran the good sloop Watervliet two or three times.

upon the oyster-banks of the since renowned Tappan Bay; but this was so common a circumstance that it scarcely deserved commemoration, nor would I have recorded it here but for the apprehension that its omission might at some future period, peradventure, seduce some industrious scribe to write an entire new history of these adventures, solely to rescue such an important matter from oblivion. Suffice it to say, that at the expiration of ten days from leaving Albany, the good sloop Watervliet arrived safe at Coenties-slip, where all the Albany sloops congregated at that time. This extraordinary passage was much talked of in both cities, and finally found its way into the weekly News-Letter, then the only paper published in the whole new world, as may be seen by a copy now, or late, in the possession of the worthy Mr. Dustan, of the Narrows. It is further recorded, that some of the vessels which passed the Watervliet as she lay aground on the Overslaugh, did not arrive in nearly a fortnight after her; owing, as Captain Baltus observed, " to der being in such a hurry." After this famous exploit the Watervliet had always a full freight, and as many passengers as she could accommodate; so that, in good time, this adventurous navigator retired from following the water, and built himself a fine brick house, with the gable end to the street, and the edges of the roof projecting like the teeth of a saw, where he sat on his stoop and smoked his pipe time out of mind.

JAMES K. PAULDING.

(To be continued)

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