At that time there was a sort of revival in the sealing business in Halifax, --this business having fallen off in the last few years, owing to the low prices for skins. But new prospects began to look brighter and some of the old veterans in the business had gathered at Halifax to fit out a few more schooners to try their luck once more in the pursuit of these valuable fur skins. At this time there was some opposition between the captains and owners of the different schooners as to the price to be paid to the hunters and boat-steerers, but after a short conference between themselves, it was agreed to pay no more then one dollar a pelt to the hunters and fifty cents to the boat-steerers; that would be for the seals taken into the boat in which they hunted.

There was at that time, a Captain Peppett of North Sydney, who had been interested in the sealing business on the Pacific Coast, where he owned and operated schooners sailing from Victoria to the Japan Sea. He was also interested in a schooner, the Beatrice L, Corkum, now lying at Halifax. Being anxious to get the best hunters available, he invited some Of the old hands who were assembled at Halifax at the time to come to the hotel where he was staying. These hunters had been holding on to get a higher share than had been paid on the previous trip. Under the agreement captain Peppett had made with the other owners, he could not very well advance the price. But he promised to give each hunter a cheque for one hundred dollars the day the articles were signed.

This he did, as promised, and therefore secured a first class crew. And I am doubtful if it were ever known by the other owners how he did it. As I was interested in this work, having been engaged in it before, I signed the articles with the rest as one of the hunters on this schooner.

We Mere signed on to be paid off at Victorfa, B.C., and our way paid back to Halifax by the owners. We were to hunt seals on the ground of the South Atlantic and secure what we could, take them to the Falkland Islands and prepare them for shipment as had been the custom on other voyages, then proceed around Cape Horn exploring the coast in different places looking for new seal rookeries on our way to Victoria.

But it will be seen that plans laid out on shore by ship owners cannot always be carried out successfully!

The first of our troubles began when we were ten days out from our home port. We ran into gale of wind which lasted about three days and if it had not been for the excellent seamanship of our skilled captain and crew and the sea worthiness of our small craft, our fate would probably never have been known.

The wind sprang up from the southwest and circled around from all points of the compass, keeping us wallowling in the trough of a heavy running sea. We happened to have quite a lot of oil on board and used oil bags and sea anchors that kept us from being hit by heavy combers which sometimes will strike small schoomers and send them to the bottom immediately. But we escaped with only minor losses, such as a few boats being slightly damaged.

The rest of the voyage was very uneventful until we reached the sealing ground often a passage of fifty days. We then cleared our decks for action and in less than a month we were successful in killing twelve hundred five seals, which was double the amount of any vessel on the ground at that time. And I have remarked before, the hunters were all first class men, being picked from the high liners of previous voyages. We then proceeded southward to the Falklands in accordance with the orders received when we sailed from Halifax.

The Governor of the Island and civil authorities had made a law imposing a tax amounting to two dollars and fifty cents per pelt landed from Canadian sealing vessels.

This enormous charge was more than any sealing company could think of paying as all skins shipped from this port before were free from any port charges. Now all these charges had taken place unknown to our owners, so the orders we sailed under would have to be changed to meet the disadvantages we were now up against. After consultation, the captains of vessels in port at that time decided to try to make other plans to get their cargoes shipped to London. They could not be taken back to Halifax or on to Victoria owing to crossing the Tropics.

Port Stanley is the only British port in these waters and to ship cargoes through foriegn ports is very difficult. The port of Montevideo was closed to us, but about this time Captain Ryne of North Sydney was seiged for the alleged killing of seals inside of the three mile limit and he and his crew were held prisoners. It was decided that if we went there it would make it worse for him, as we had the same kind of a cargo as he had. The Canadian Government had taken it up with the Uruguay Government to get him clear, and the schooner released, -- which they succeeded in doing after a couple of years battle with the courts.

It was at last proposed by Captain Charles Le Blanc, of Arichat that we go to Punta Arenas, the most northern port in Chile, and try to get permission from that Government to ship the skins through their port. Punta Arenas is in the Strait of Magellan, about one hundred miles from the north entrance and a dangerous place to navigate sailing schooners.

There is a strait running through the island which divides it, and it is called the East and West Falklands.

Surrounding the Island are numerous small islands and bays. The coast is very rough, and there are high mountains. Birds of all kinds known to these waters rest on the Islands.

The Pengiun rookeries are a wonderful. sight. The eggs of these birds are gathered at the nesting season and sold at a profit by the owners of these rookeries, The beautiful albatross, the largest bird on the South Atlantic coast, rests here also.

Cape pigeons and the wonderful steam boat duck are found here. This duck cannot fly, but races over the water with a quick beating of the wings as fast as an ordinary motor-boat. They resemble our Canadian elder duck when swimming.

The small outlying islands are mostly sea lion rookeries. In exploring some of these rookeries we found them covered with a tall green grass, known as tussick, in whick the sea lions make their homes, while on shore. This grass is always green, and is cut and used for different purposes by the inhabitants.

There are also several seal rookeries guite close to the Falkands on Jasons Islands, They are privately owned and are constantly watched. It is on these islands that the beautiful pebble beaches are found and small pebbles of every color known to man can be shoveled up by the ton. We visited the islands and brought some of the pebbles away with us.

As there are no trees growing on the Falklands, there is no coal nor wood used by the inhabitants. The fuel, called "peat" is taken from the bogs and dried. There is a small herd of wild cattle on the highest mountains. No one seems to know how they came there. They are protected by law and only a limited number allowed to be killed each year. They are very large animals and noted for their large, spreading horns.

Most of the business here is done through the Falkland Island company,--an English comany with headquarters in London. The inhabitants of this small British colony are English people, the first settlers being ship wrecked mariners, landed there after having lost their ship from a voyage around Cape Horn. We were well treated by the people there.

This being no place to navigate in the night time, we jogged off the shore until morning. But with the rising of the sun a gale of wind sprang up right ahead, and with a strong current going in with us, kicked up a short sea. Before we reached the first narrows our main boom snapped in the slings, and at once our schooner became unmanageable.

As she would not tack without the main sail we immediately bent our riding sail, but evea then we could make no headway owing to the sea the wind had kicked up. We did not know where to make an anchorage as there did not seem to be any shelter along this treacherous channel.

We wove ship a couple of times to see if the wind would abate, but soon found that there was too much risk of breaking something,--which would likely be the last of us!

On the east Ioomed the high mountains of Tierra del Fuego, with their snow-capped summits. It did not seem a likely place to find friends in case of shipwreck, as according to the reports of the people of the Falklands, savage tribes inhabit this coast.

We finally had to give it up and run out to sea,--a "lame duck." This gale of wind increased as we ran off shore and lasted for ten long days. We could only drift before it under a rufed foresail. Sometimes it looked "blue" for us as our vessel began to feel the strain of the severe threshing she was receiving from the storm. We drifted down in sight of the Staten Island, which is off the north-east coast of Tierra del Fuego.

When the storm abated we sailed in to Good Success Bay and anchored. We landed here to get water, kill some game and do there necessary work after the severe pounding we had received since being blown out of tae Strait of Magellan. We lowered several boats and landed without seeing a human being around. There was, however, the site of an old camping place plain to be seen.

We found plenty of different kinds of birds, small deer, plenty of good water and a lot of drift wood. We made several trips from the schooner to the shore, and spent quite a busy day pickng up a supply of fresh meat, Christmas was drawing near and we were preparing for a good Christmas dinner.

They were the tallest men we had ever seen and resembled Indians. They were making preparations to come on board, having been attracted, no doubt, from some village the day before by our shooting. It was probable they thought by our little schooner that all they had to do was to launch off and make us an easy prize.

We were making prerarations to get under way and, as it was almost calm at the time, we decided to save them the trouble of boarding us by letting them know we could reach them from where we were anchored. We had on board some very high power rifles and some good shots among the crew, so we decided to fire a shot or two where they were standing.

They could not hear the report of the rifle, but when they saw the bullets skipping along the water close to the shore, they drew back to higher ground. They could not make out what this meant, but, scenting danger, they made no further attempt to launch their canoes. It was well for them that they did not come to attack us, as we were armed to the teeth with all kinds of guns and a crew of eighteen men.

We were not very anxious about killing any of these savages, as that was not the kind of game we were after.

When the wind sprang up we glided out of the bay, leaving that land of desolation behind us. And thien began our norther passage along the Patagonia coast under great difficulties, as the weather is always very stormy in these southern latitudes.

We called to a small island on the Patagonian coast on our way up, known to be a seal rookery, but did not find many seals. Someone had been there before us. There were signs of a great slaughter having taken place.

The seals that were around the rocks were very wild and hard to get. We then sailed into a bay and landed to get some fresh game, as our supply of fresh meat was running low.

We at once fell into a herd of small deer, called by the natives "gunaea," and were successful in shooting a few of these, which proved excellent meat. There were also different kinds of birds, which made up a very decent bag.

Two of our men ventured inland to explore the country around and came upon some strange looking tracks in the sand which proved to be ostrich tracks. One of the boys started one, and, having a rifle with him was successful in killing it. We found out later that ostriches are very plentiful along this part of the coast and are called by the natives "Realt." The ground here is rough and hilly with short vegetation, the sandy patches covered with cactus, on which the ostrich feeds.

After a passage of about a montth, we arrived off the Port of Rio Grande, the most southern port in Brazil. Here we got in touch with a tow boat, which engaged to tow us in over the bar, which was very shoal, with a very heavy swell running at that time.

While being towed through that narrow channel, we touched the bar going in, but did no damage, though the water from the breakers on each side covered our decks. It was a great relief to all when we saw our little craft safely in port and all hands in fairly good health.

We were held at the port for examination and then towed twelve miles up the river and anchored close off the town.

Our hatches were all sealed up, also our guns and ammunition, before we got to anchorage. The next morning when the captain reported to the customs house and our manifest showed so many kegs of powder, we were towed out three miles from the town and anchored in the middle of the river.

Two of our men ventured inland to explore the country around and came upon some strange looking tracks in the sand which proved to be ostrich tracks. One of the boys started one, and, having a rifle with him was successful in killing it. We found out later that ostriches are very plentiful along this part of the coast and are called by the natives "Realt." The ground here is rough and hilly with short vegetation, the sandy patches covered with cactus, on which the ostrich feeds.

After a passage of about a montth, we arrived off the Port of Rio Grande, the most southern port in Brazil. Here we got in touch with a tow boat, which engaged to tow us in over the bar, which was very shoal, with a very heavy swell running at that time.

While being towed through that narrow channel, we touched the bar going in, but did no damage, though the water from the breakers on each side covered our decks. It was a great relief to all when we saw our little craft safely in port and all hands in fairly good health.

We were held at the port for examination and then towed twelve miles up the river and anchored close off the town.

Our hatches were all sealed up, also our guns and ammunition, before we got to anchorage. The next morning when the captain reported to the customs house and our manifest showed so many kegs of powder, we were towed out three miles from the town and anchored in the middle of the river.

Two of our men ventured inland to explore the country around and came upon some strange looking tracks in the sand which proved to be ostrich tracks. One of the boys started one, and, having a rifle with him was successful in killing it. We found out later that ostriches are very plentiful along this part of the coast and are called by the natives "Realt." The ground here is rough and hilly with short vegetation, the sandy patches covered with cactus, on which the ostrich feeds.

After a passage of about a montth, we arrived off the Port of Rio Grande, the most southern port in Brazil. Here we got in touch with a tow boat, which engaged to tow us in over the bar, which was very shoal, with a very heavy swell running at that time.

While being towed through that narrow channel, we touched the bar going in, but did no damage, though the water from the breakers on each side covered our decks. It was a great relief to all when we saw our little craft safely in port and all hands in fairly good health.

We were held at the port for examination and then towed twelve miles up the river and anchored close off the town.

Our hatches were all sealed up, also our guns and ammunition, before we got to anchorage. The next morning when the captain reported to the customs house and our manifest showed so many kegs of powder, we were towed out three miles from the town and anchored in the middle of the river.

It was hard for us to be marooned out there after our five months battle with the elements, but we had to make the best of it and say nothing. If we had not been able to lift our booby hatches to get into the hold we would have suffered for some thing to eat.

They did not notice when sealing our hatches that they could be lifted off without breaking the seal, as this schooner still carried her fishing hatches, which fit over the main hatch, and could be lifted off very easily.

In that way we got all we wanted and they never knew how we got it. Our captain then began to make arrangements about packing and shipping our skins.

It took the better part of a month to get a permit to do so. It will be remembered that the "Agnes Donahue" was at that time seiged at Montevides and classed as a pirate, of course, we came under the same head, having the same kind of a cargo aboard. We were in a foreign country, unable to speak the language and very poorly represented by the British Counsul, who did not come very much or try to do anything much for us poor fellows.

This and other things caused delay, and was the means of spoiling our cargo of skins. The weather being very hot, theyheated in the hold and turned a pink color. When at last the permit was granted, we put up our own casks, which we carried on board, and shipped the skins on the first boat to England.

We had a couple of days ashore each week to exercise ourselves and see what was going on, it was here that we witnessed that cruel sport known as bull-fighting.

These acts are staged between men and bulls in an arena, the spectators being seated in a gallery, from which they look down on the performers. The floor of the arena is covered with a foot of soft sand, where the bull has no footing and he is then tormented and tired out until he falls exhausted. His canter then stands upon his neck and waits for the applause of the audience which sometimes is long and loud, while all kinds of things are thrown into him by his admirers.

Of course this is all a one-sided fight, for if these fellows had no place to dodge behind when they were close run, the laugh would likely be on the other side--in favor of the bull. And they sometimes do get a fellow at that. When one animal is done for he is dragged out and another brought in and the same act repeated.

I must say that we did not enjoy these amusements very much, as we Canadians are not much in favor of killing animals to amuse someone else or just for sport, and the sun was hot, burning down on our heads, which made us feel very uncomfortable.

However, we found pretty good sport in hunting swans around the river, as these birds are very plentiful in these latitudes. That was the only way we could keep ourselves in fresh food, as these birds are equal in food value to any game birds we have in our country.

It will be seen by the foregoing account of this voyage that all our movements were made unknown to our owners. As they had not heard from us since we left the Falklands, they were under the impression that we had reached Punta Arenas and would be by this time on our way to Victoria. We had a short conference with our captain and all the details carefully studied out. After everything was taken into consideration we could not agree with him in carrying out his orders to proceed around Cape Horn.

Our reason for taking this view was that after the cargo had teen taken out of the schooner, we found the metal was badly damaged along her water line and hanging in rools which would greatly hinder her progress on a long voyage.

As for the broken main boom, we had been unable to obtain a new one and, therefore, had to take the old one and splice it. We could then only wear a reefed mainsail, we found we would need six hundred dollars worth in order to carry us around to Victoria.

Even under these conditions, Captain Roben desired to proceed and, of course, he was hurt at our refusal to go with him. He admitted that he could not get the stores or have the necessary repairs done as he had no money.

He said to us, "What will you fellows do landed here without friends or money?"

"I think after all we have gone through together on this voyage you had better stick to me and see it through!"

We knew very well that unless we agreed to go he could not go without a crew and it would be impossible for him to get anyone here. We told him it would be better to take our chances on going ashore here than to go on a voyaee that we knew very well could not be made.

The weather was warm in this climate and nearly any bush could be our shelter. Besides, ships were coming and going from all parts of the world and we would likely get a chance after a while to get away. This was a very embarrassing situation and had to be overcome in some way as we all liked and respected our captain who was a first class seaman and shipmate.

Before any further step was taken, it was decided to stay by the schooner and wire the owners stating the conditions and that we refused to proceed around the Horn. After we had sent this wire we were completely "broke", as it cost one dollar a word and the Canadian dollar in that country at that time was worth practically nothing. So we waited patiently for ten days for an answer. Then one night our captain came on board with the long-looked for message.

It read "Proceed to the old sealing grounds and get what skins you can then return to Halifax." The captain was about the happiest man of the crew on receiving this wire as he knew in his own mind it would be impossible to take the other route. But it was not up to him to do the first kicking.

Now,began our long and tedious voyage northward! So also began the most trying period in all this difficult and eventful voyage, to make this passage in a schooner with a foul bottom and a half a mainsail!

And the remainder of our provisions were of the poorest quality, consisting mostly of spoiled canned goods. The water was so bad in the tank that we had to shut our eyes to drink it. This kind of a voyage is only known in reality to those who go through them. Before we had crossed the Tropics some of the crew began to get sick with a disease known only to mariners on such voyages,--a disease known as "Berri-Berri.'' It effects the limbs and (a swelling sets in that in time will paralyze the whole body. It is brought on by poor food, bad water and insufficient exercise.

After a long and trying passage of eighty-five days we succeeded in making dear old Halifax! Had we been at sea five days longer, some of our crew would have been buried there, as five of them had to be taken to the hospital at once and some of them were there for months.

There is no doubt that t:is voyage is still fresh in the memory of the crew of the Beatrice L. Corkum! Had we attempted to proceed around Cape Horn from Rio this story would never have been written.

It will be seen by the length of time we were making the voyage homeward, that the writer had covered the same distance in forty-one days in another sealing schooner some years before.

Still with all this we have something to be thankful for as "All is well that Ends Well,"