Some of the old people at the Port declare to this day that on the night of the wreck they heard shrieks as plainly as ever issued from human throats; and you could not argue it out of them, though the spot where the _Isidore's_ anchors were found is ten miles away. As for Joe B----, the runaway, he can not refrain from shedding tears when the _Isidore_ is mentioned. "But, Ben, do you believe in dreams?" I asked, with my hand on the latch. "B'leeve in dreams!" he repeated; "why, Joe's a living man; but where's his mates?" Perhaps they "Died as men should die, clinging round their lonely wreck, Their winding-sheet the sky, and their sepulchre the deck; And the steersman held the helm till his breath Grew faint and fainter still; There was one short fatal thrill, Then he sank into the chill Arms of Death." I turned away from the spot with the old sailor's words in mind: "A wicked place where she struck; and the sea drove right on. A ragged place, sir--ragged." Leaving the cliff, I struck across the pastures to the road, making no farther halt except to gather a few huckleberries that grew on high bushes by the roadside. The fruit is large, either black or blue, with an agreeable though different flavor from any of the low-bushed varieties. The local name for the shrub is "bilberry." It frequently grows higher than a man's head, and a single one will often yield nearly a quart. It was a year of plenty, and I had seen the pickers busy in the berry pastures as I passed by. The fruit, being for the time a sort of currency--not quite so hard, by-the-bye, as the musket-bullets of the colonists--is received in barter at the stores. Whole families engage in the harvest, making fair wages, the annual yield exceeding in value that of the corn crop of the State. Maine grows her corn on the Western prairies, and pays for it with canned fish and berries. At the village store I saw a woman drive up with a bushel of huckleberries, with which she bought enough calico for a gown, half a pound of tobacco, and some knickknacks for the children at home. Affixed in a conspicuous place to the wall was the motto, "Quick sales and small profits." Half an hour was spent in beating the shop-keeper down a cent in the yard, and another quarter of an hour to induce him to "heave in," as she said, a spool of cotton. The man, after stoutly contesting the claim, finally yielded both points. "The woman," thought I, "evidently only half believes in your seductive motto." All along the road I had met women and children, going or returning, with pails or baskets. One man, evidently a fast picker, had filled the sleeves of his jacket with berries, after having first tied them at the wrists. Another, who vaulted over the stone wall at my side, when asked if he was going to try the huckleberries, replied, "Wa'al, yes; think I'll try and _accumulate_ a few."