So there was the big log cradle at last, floating near the shore like a big ship at anchor. Great crowds of people came to see it, for it was the biggest craft that was ever built in Maine, and everyone willingly gave a hand toward getting Paul safely put to bed in it. Even with so many working together at the task, it took them three full days to get the husky youngster into his new cradle and tied there with cables so that he could not fall out. It was very fortunate for everyone that the child was feeling well and in the best of humour, for otherwise he might have resented all the tugging and pulling which he had to undergo, and no one knows what fearful calamity might then have resulted.

At last in the place fixed for him, Paul began to like the sensation of being rocked by the waves so well that he gave no further trouble for a while, and his parents congratulated themselves upon the excellent arrangement they had made for their lusty son. His father hired a crew of men who were kept busy all the time rowing back and forth between the cradle and the shore, carrying boatloads of food to him, and altogether Paul was as well satisfied as any child could expect to be.

All went well until one night he got the colic again. It is not known what caused his illness this time, but anyway, he rolled and tossed about so much that he stirred up the sea at a fearful rate. In fact, such a shaking-up did his rolling cradle give the waters that a seventy-foot tide drove up the Bay of Fundy, doing a tremendous lot of damage and even washing away several towns and villages. So high were the waves that they came near to rolling clear across the land and making an island of Nova Scotia!