Of course I thought of but little except my boat after she came into my
possession, and before the day closed I had exhibited her to all who
felt an interest in such matters. My father was delighted with her,
and congratulated me on the bargain I had made. Tom Walton declared
that the _Belle_ was the finest craft on the lake. Before night, so
thoroughly had my boat been talked up in Middleport, I had a party
engaged for the next day, to visit the fishing-grounds.
After seeing the boat, and discussing the matter with my father, I had
the conscience to fix the price of her at seven dollars a day, which
included my own services. When a gentleman spoke of engaging her for a
week or more, I told him he should have her for five dollars a day for
any longer period than three days.
The weather was very warm and pleasant for October, and my first trip
to the fishing-grounds was a great success. My party were delighted
with the boat, and I did all I could to make them comfortable. The
gentlemen had a good time, and spoke so favorably of the _Belle_ and of
me, that the person who proposed to go for a week closed the bargain
with me, and I was engaged to start on Monday morning. I was in a fair
way to get back, before the season closed, what I had paid for the boat.
On Saturday I had no engagement; but I found it quite impossible to
keep out of the _Belle_. I intended to go on an exploring expedition
up the lake, in order to find some good landing-places. I went after
Tom Walton, to give him an invitation to accompany me; but I found he
was at work for a day or two in one of the stores. The wind blew quite
fresh from the northwest, and the lake was tolerably rough, which made
me the more desirous of testing the qualities of the _Belle_.
While I was reefing down the mainsail, I saw the _Highflyer_ pass the
Narrows, headed up the lake. This was Waddie Wimpleton’s boat. She
was about the size of the _Belle_, and I could not see why the young
gentleman wanted the latter. The _Highflyer_ would certainly have
satisfied me, though in the course of the day I was better informed in
regard to his motives. Waddie had reefed his mainsail, and was going at
a rapid rate up the lake.
I had no wish to come into collision with him, though I was rather
anxious to know which boat could make the best time. He was alone;
indeed, I had often noticed that he sailed without any company; and, as
neither of the institutes was in session on Saturdays, I had often seen
him bound up the lake on that day. He had the reputation of being a
good boatman, and certainly he had had experience enough to qualify him
to act in that capacity.
I cast off the moorings of the _Belle_, and stood out into the lake,
where I could get the full benefit of the wind. Waddie was some
distance ahead of me; but I soon saw that his eye was upon me. I
intended to keep well over on the west side of the lake, so as to avoid
him. I needed not the express declaration he had made to assure me that
he hated me, and that he would use all possible means to annoy and
punish me. Although I was not afraid of him, I did not wish to afford
him any opportunity to gratify his malignity upon me.
He sailed the _Highflyer_ very well. Every minute he glanced at the
_Belle_, to ascertain what progress she was making. Probably he
supposed that I had put off for the sole purpose of racing with him,
which, however, was not true, though I was very glad of a chance to
measure paces with him. Neither of us was obliged to wait long for a
decided result, for in half an hour from the time I started, the two
boats were abreast of each other, though still half a mile apart. Then
the reason why he wished to purchase the _Belle_ was apparent. She was
faster than the _Highflyer_; and Waddie did not enjoy being beaten by
any boat on the lake.
Though I was not near enough to observe the effect upon him, I had no
doubt he was foaming and fuming with wrath at the audacity of a poor
boy like me, who ventured to beat him. While I was walking by him
with perfect ease, he threw his boat up into the wind, and turned out
the reef in the mainsail. The wind was freshening every hour, and I
regarded this as a very imprudent step on his part. In fact, I began to
feel that I might, in some way, be held responsible for any disaster
which should happen to him, if by racing with him I goaded him on to
any rashness. I therefore came about, and began to beat down the lake,
to assure him that I was not inclined to race under whole sail in such
a blow.
When he had shaken out his reef, however, he gave chase to me. The
_Highflyer_ labored heavily in the rough waves, and I was not sure that
the duty of rescuing her rash skipper from a watery grave would not
soon devolve upon me. He followed, and having all sail on his boat, he
gained upon me on the wind. At this rate he would soon be crowing over
me, and, the reputation of the _Belle_ would be injured. I was averse
to being beaten, even under a reefed mainsail. I let out my sheet, and
stood over toward the eastern shore. Waddie followed me, and as I could
not now decline the race on his terms, I soon headed the _Belle_ up the
lake.
By the time I had laid my course, the _Highflyer_ was abreast of me.
Now both of us had the wind on the quarter. A boat on the wind, with
all sail set, can be better handled than when going before it. I saw
the _Highflyer_ plunging down deep into the waves; but I suppose
Waddie had not learned that a boat overpressed in a blow does not make
any better time than one carrying just sail enough to make her go
comfortably, without wasting her headway in dives and plunges. On this
tack he no longer gained upon me. On the contrary, it was soon evident
that the _Belle_ was running away from him. My boat was good for at
least one more mile in five than the _Highflyer_.
I ran away from Waddie, and went up the lake as far as Gulfport. I soon
lost sight of him, and I concluded that he had made a landing somewhere
on the shore. It was too rough to explore the coast, for the wind was
driving the waves upon the rocks and beaches with savage power, and
it was not prudent to go too near the land. I put the _Belle_ about,
and commenced beating down the lake. I thought no more of Waddie, my
mind being wholly taken up in sailing my boat, and in the pleasant
anticipation of making a profitable thing of her.
On the eastern shore of the lake, between Centreport and Gulfport,
there was a wood, covering, perhaps, a square mile of land. It was much
used by picnic parties in the summer, and had a cook-house for frying
fish and making chowders. A rude landing-place had been prepared for
steamers, for the deep water extended quite up to the shore. In the
process of beating the _Belle_ down the lake, I ran her close up to the
pier off the grove. As I was coming about, I heard a cry which seemed
to indicate great distress. I was startled by the sound; but, as there
were neither Indians nor wild beasts in the vicinity, I concluded that
I had mistaken the nature of the call.
I was proceeding on my course when the cry was repeated. It was
certainly the sound of mingled anger and distress. I threw the _Belle_
up into the wind, and listened. The cry was repeated, and I stood in
toward the shore. Passing the pier, I saw Waddie’s boat secured to the
logs. Just above the wharf there was a little land-locked bay, into
which I ran the _Belle_. The cry of distress was not again repeated;
but my curiosity was fully aroused. I concluded that Waddie had found
some boy or girl, smaller and weaker than himself, and was exercising
the evil propensities of his nature upon his victim.
I lowered my sails, and secured them. Fastening the painter of the
_Belle_ to a tree, I walked toward the cook-house, with the small
boat-hook, not bigger than a broom-handle, in my hand. I must say that
I dreaded a conflict of any description with Mr. Waddie. There was no
more reason in him than in a stone wall, and he really delighted in
torturing a victim. If any one interfered to repress his cruelty, he
took the act as a personal insult, and regarded himself as oppressed by
not being allowed to exercise his malice upon the weak.
I walked cautiously toward the spot from which the cry had come, for
I wished to obtain a view of the situation before I was seen myself.
The trees were large, and afforded me abundant concealment. Every few
moments I stopped to listen; and I soon heard several voices, some of
them peculiarly gruff and unnatural. It was plain that Waddie and his
victim were not the only actors in the scene. Placing myself behind a
tree, I took a careful observation, and discovered smoke rising among
the branches; but I could not yet see who the speakers were. Something
was going on; but whether it was a comedy or a tragedy I could not
determine.
I continued cautiously to approach the spot, and soon gained a position
where I could obtain a full view of the scene. I had expected to
find Waddie persecuting some poor wretch. The “boot was on the other
leg.” The scion of the house of Wimpleton was the victim, and not the
oppressor. The world seemed to be turned upside down. Waddie, divested
of all his clothing but his shirt and pants, was tied to a tree. Near
him a fire was snapping and crackling, while over it hung a kettle.
Although I was at the windward of the fire, the odor which pervaded the
woods assured me that the kettle was filled with tar.
Around the fire were four stout boys, rigged out in fantastic garments,
their faces covered with masks and other devices to conceal their
identity. Near the fire lay a couple of bolsters, which, no doubt, were
filled with feathers. One of these fellows was stirring the contents
of the kettle, and another was replenishing the fire, while the other
two looked on. Who they were I could form no idea, for their strange
uniforms completely disguised them.
Waddie looked like the very picture of hopeless misery. I had never
seen such an aspect of utter despair on his face. He was as pale as
death, and I could even see the tremors of his frame as he trembled
with terror.