“What do you think of the weather, pilot?” said the captain.

“I think we shall have a change of wind, and dirty weather before twelve hours are over our heads,” replied I.

“Well,” said he, “that’s my opinion.  There is a cloud rising in the southwest; and, look, there are some Mother Carey’s chickens dipping in the water astern.”

“Where?” said the passenger, a curly-headed Creole, about twenty years old.

“Those small birds,” replied the captain, walking forward.

The passenger went down below, and soon returned with his double-barreled fowling-piece.

“I have long wished to shoot one of those birds,” said he; “and now they are so near, I think I may get a shot.”

He raised his piece several times without firing, when the captain came aft, and, perceiving his intention, caught his arm as he was about to level again.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Higgins, but I really must request that you will not fire at those birds.”

“Why not?”

“Because I cannot permit it.”

“But what’s to hinder me?” replied the young man, coloring up; “they are not in your manifest, I presume.”

“No, sir, they are not; but I tell you frankly that I would not kill one for a hundred pounds.  Nay, I would as soon murder one of my fellow-creatures.”

“Well, that may be your feeling, but it’s not mine.”

“Nevertheless, sir, as it is, to say the least of it, very unlucky, you will oblige me by yielding to my request.”

“Nonsense!—­just to humor your superstitious feeling.”

“We are not in port yet, Mr. Higgins; and I must insist upon it you do not fire.  You have taken my gunpowder, and I cannot allow it to be used in that way.”

During this altercation I observed that many of the sailors had come aft, and, although they said nothing, were evidently of the same opinion as the captain.  I was aware that there was a superstitious feeling among the seamen relative to these birds, but I had never seen it so strongly exemplified before.

The mate gave a wink to the captain, behind the passenger’s back, and made a motion to him to go forward, which the captain did.  The passenger again raised his gun, when it was seized by two of the seamen.

“You must not fire at these birds, sir!” said one of them.

“Why, you scoundrel?—­I’ll give you the contents of both barrels if you don’t leave my gun alone.”

“No, you won’t—­you’re not among niggers now, master,” replied the seaman; “and as you have threatened to shoot me, I must take the gun from you.”

A scuffle ensued, during which both barrels were discharged in the air, and the gun taken from Mr. Higgins, who was boiling with rage.  The gun was handed forward, and I saw it no more.  Mr. Higgins, in a state of great excitement, went down into the cabin.

The captain then came aft to me, when I observed that I had no idea that seamen were so very particular on that point; and I thought that they had gone too far.