presenting to this worthy ferryman, in the presence of above five
hundred men, a beautiful silver medallion, sent out to me by the Royal
Humane Society--to which I had transmitted an account of the occurrence.
Nor was the heroine of my story forgotten. A similar medallion was given
to him for his sister. She could not, with propriety, be present
herself, as it was the annual muster-day of the militia in
that locality.

MEMOIRS OF A CHURCH MISSIONARY IN CANADA.



A WHALE CHASE.

Down went the boats with a splash. Each boat's crew sprang over the
rail, and in an instant the larboard, starboard, and waist-boats were
manned. There was great rivalry in getting the start. The waist-boat got
off in pretty good time; and away went all three, dashing the water high
over their bows. Nothing could be more exciting than the chase. The
larboard boat, commanded by the mate, and the waist-boat, by the second
mate, were head and head. "Give way, my lads, give way!" shouted P----,
our headsman; "we gain on them; give way! A long, steady stroke! That's
the way to tell it!" "Ay, ay!" cried Tabor, our boat-steerer. "What do
you say, boys? Shall we lick 'em?" "Pull! pull like vengeance!" echoed
the crew; and we danced over the waves, scarcely seeming to touch them.
The chase was now truly soul-stirring. Sometimes the larboard, then the
starboard, then the waist-boat took the lead. It was a severe trial of
skill and muscle. After we had run two miles at this rate, the whales
turned flukes, going dead to windward. "Now for it, my lads!" cried
P----. "We'll have them the next rising. Now pile it on! a long, steady