If I didn't tow 'im 'ard we'd never get into port." I walked most of the way over the steep grades, whereupon my guide, every inch a sailor, became my friend.

Arriving at the summit of the island, I met Mr.
Schank, the farmer from Canada, and his sister, living very cozily in a house among the rocks, as snug as conies, and as safe.

He showed me over the farm, taking me through a tunnel which led from one field to the other, divided by an inaccessible spur of mountain.

Mr.Schank said that he had lost many cows and bullocks, as well as sheep, from breakneck over the steep cliffs and precipices.

One cow, he said, would sometimes hook another right over a precipice to destruction, and go on feeding unconcernedly.