Such were the vague rumors which for a long time tantalized without
gratifying my curiosity on the interesting subject of these pirate
traditions. There is nothing in this world so hard to get at as truth.
I sought among my favorite sources of authentic information, the oldest
inhabitants, and particularly the old Dutch wives of the province; but
though I flatter myself I am better versed than most men in the curious
history of my native province, yet for a long time my inquiries were
unattended with any substantial result.
At length it happened, one calm day in the latter part of summer, that
I was relaxing myself from the toils of severe study by a day's
amusement in fishing in those waters which had been the favorite resort
of my boyhood. I was in company with several worthy burghers of my
native city. Our sport was indifferent; the fish did not bite freely;
and we had frequently changed our fishing ground without bettering our
luck. We at length anchored close under a ledge of rocky coast, on the
eastern side of the island of Manhata. It was a still, warm day. The
stream whirled and dimpled by us without a wave or even a ripple, and
every thing was so calm and quiet that it was almost startling when the
kingfisher would pitch himself from the branch of some dry tree, and
after suspending himself for a moment in the air to take his aim, would
souse into the smooth water after his prey. While we were lolling in
our boat, half drowsy with the warm stillness of the day and the
dullness of our sport, one of our party, a worthy alderman, was
overtaken by a slumber, and, as he dozed, suffered the sinker of his
drop-line to lie upon the bottom of the river.
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