"Would I give him $1 to
get a bit of grub for his family?" Got flour and molasses.
Started in the _Mayflower_, a leaky little craft, about 5 P.M. No
wind to speak of. Cold drizzle and fog. About 11 we landed at
Winter's Cove. Nasty place to land among the rocks on a desolate
point. From a shanty on the beach came a yelling and hallooing
from several voices to know who we were and what we were doing.
Went into cabin, two rooms--one frame and the other sod. Room
about 12 x 14--desolate. Two women like furies--ragged, haggard,
brown, hair streaming. One had baby in her arms; two small girls
and a boy. One of women Steve's mother. Dirty place, but better
than the chilling fog. Glad to get in. Fire started. Stove
smoked till room was full. Little old lamp, no chimney. We made
coffee and gave coffee and hard-tack to all. Women went into other
room with children. We spread tarpaulin and blankets, and lay on
floor; so did Steve. Women talked loudly.
Thursday, July 9th.--Started at 5 A.M., launching boat after Steve
had said, "Don't know as we can launch 'er, sir." Fog. Offered
Steve chart and compass. "Ain't got no learnin', sir.
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