What pearl is it that rich men cannot buy,
That learning is too proud to gather up;
But which the poor and the despised of all
Seek and obtain, and often find unsought?
Tell me--and I will tell thee what is truth.
COWPER.
The meeting with the Indian and his wife excited no surprise in the
majority of those who witnessed the occurrence; but Mabel, and all who
knew of the manner in which this chief had been separated from the party
of Cap, simultaneously entertained suspicions, which it was far
easier to feel than to follow out by any plausible clue to certainty.
Pathfinder, who alone could converse freely with the prisoners, for
such they might now be considered, took Arrowhead aside, and held a long
conversation with him, concerning the reasons of the latter for having
deserted his charge and the manner in which he had been since employed.
The Tuscarora met these inquiries, and he gave his answers with the
stoicism of an Indian. As respects the separation, his excuses were very
simply made, and they seemed to be sufficiently plausible. When he found
that the party was discovered in its place of concealment, he naturally
sought his own safety, which he secured by plunging into the woods. In a
word, he had run away in order to save his life.
“This is well,” returned Pathfinder, affecting to believe the other's
apologies; “my brother did very wisely; but his woman followed?”
“Do not the pale-faces' women follow their husbands? Would not
Pathfinder have looked back to see if one he loved was coming?”
This appeal was made to the guide while he was in a most fortunate
frame of mind to admit its force; for Mabel and her blandishments and
constancy were becoming images familiar to his thoughts. The Tuscarora,
though he could not trace the reason, saw that his excuse was admitted,
and he stood with quiet dignity awaiting the next inquiry.
“This is reasonable and natural,” returned Pathfinder; “this is natural,
and may be so. A woman would be likely to follow the man to whom she
had plighted faith, and husband and wife are one flesh. Your words are
honest, Tuscarora,” changing the language to the dialect of the other.
“Your words are honest, and very pleasant and just. But why has my
brother been so long from the fort? His friends have thought of him
often, but have never seen him.”
“If the doe follows the buck, ought not the buck to follow the doe?”
answered the Tuscarora, smiling, as he laid a finger significantly on
the shoulder of his interrogator. “Arrowhead's wife followed Arrowhead;
it was right in Arrowhead to follow his wife. She lost her way, and they
made her cook in a strange wigwam.”
“I understand you, Tuscarora. The woman fell into the hands of the
Mingos, and you kept upon their trail.”
“Pathfinder can see a reason as easily as he can see the moss on the
trees. It is so.”
“And how long have you got the woman back, and in what manner has it
been done?”
“Two suns. The Dew-of-June was not long in coming when her husband
whispered to her the path.”
“Well, well, all this seems natural, and according to matrimony. But,
Tuscarora, how did you get that canoe, and why are you paddling towards
the St. Lawrence instead of the garrison?”
“Arrowhead can tell his own from that of another. This canoe is mine; I
found it on the shore near the fort.”
“That sounds reasonable, too, for the canoe does belong to the man,
and an Indian would make few words about taking it. Still, it is
extraordinary that we saw nothing of the fellow and his wife, for the
canoe must have left the river before we did ourselves.”
This idea, which passed rapidly through the mind of the guide, was now
put to the Indian in the shape of a question.
“Pathfinder knows that a warrior can have shame. The father would have
asked me for his daughter, and I could not give her to him. I sent the
Dew-of-June for the canoe, and no one spoke to the woman. A Tuscarora
woman would not be free in speaking to strange men.”
All this, too, was plausible, and in conformity with Indian character
and customs. As was usual, Arrowhead had received one half of his
compensation previously to quitting the Mohawk; and his refraining to
demand the residue was a proof of that conscientious consideration of
mutual rights that quite as often distinguishes the morality of a savage
as that of a Christian. To one as upright as Pathfinder, Arrowhead had
conducted himself with delicacy and propriety, though it would have been
more in accordance with his own frank nature to have met the father, and
abided by the simple truth. Still, accustomed to the ways of Indians, he
saw nothing out of the ordinary track of things in the course the other
had taken.
“This runs like water flowing down hill, Arrowhead,” he answered, after
a little reflection, “and truth obliges me to own it. It was the gift of
a red-skin to act in this way, though I do not think it was the gift of
a pale-face. You would not look upon the grief of the girl's father?”
Arrowhead made a quiet inclination of the body as if to assent.
“One thing more my brother will tell me,” continued Pathfinder, “and
there will be no cloud between his wigwam and the strong-house of the
Yengeese. If he can blow away this bit of fog with his breath, his
friends will look at him as he sits by his own fire, and he can look at
them as they lay aside their arms, and forget that they are warriors.
Why was the head of Arrowhead's canoe looking towards the St. Lawrence,
where there are none but enemies to be found?”
“Why were the Pathfinder and his friends looking the same way?” asked
the Tuscarora calmly. “A Tuscarora may look in the same direction as a
Yengeese.”
“Why, to own the truth, Arrowhead, we are out scouting like; that is,
sailing--in other words, we are on the king's business, and we have a
right to be here, though we may not have a right to say _why_ we are
here.”
“Arrowhead saw the big canoe, and he loves to look on the face of
Eau-douce. He was going towards the sun at evening in order to seek his
wigwam; but, finding that the young sailor was going the other way, he
turned that he might look in the same direction. Eau-douce and Arrowhead
were together on the last trail.”
“This may all be true, Tuscarora, and you are welcome. You shall eat of
our venison, and then we must separate. The setting sun is behind us,
and both of us move quick: my brother will get too far from that which
he seeks, unless he turns round.”
Pathfinder now returned to the others, and repeated the result of
his examination. He appeared himself to believe that the account of
Arrowhead might be true, though he admitted that caution would be
prudent with one he disliked; but his auditors, Jasper excepted, seemed
less disposed to put faith in the explanations.
“This chap must be ironed at once, brother Dunham,” said Cap, as soon
as Pathfinder finished his narration; “he must be turned over to the
master-at-arms, if there is any such officer on fresh water, and a
court-martial ought to be ordered as soon as we reach port.”
“I think it wisest to detain the fellow,” the Sergeant answered; “but
irons are unnecessary so long as he remains in the cutter. In the
morning the matter shall be inquired into.”
Arrowhead was now summoned and told the decision. The Indian listened
gravely, and made no objections. On the contrary, he submitted with the
calm and reserved dignity with which the American aborigines are known
to yield to fate; and he stood apart, an attentive but calm observer of
what was passing. Jasper caused the cutter's sails to be filled, and the
_Scud_ resumed her course.
It was now getting near the hour to set the watch, and when it was usual
to retire for the night. Most of the party went below, leaving no one on
deck but Cap, the Sergeant, Jasper, and two of the crew. Arrowhead and
his wife also remained, the former standing aloof in proud reserve,
and the latter exhibiting, by her attitude and passiveness, the meek
humility that characterizes an Indian woman.
“You will find a place for your wife below, Arrowhead, where my daughter
will attend to her wants,” said the Sergeant kindly, who was himself on
the point of quitting the deck; “yonder is a sail where you may sleep
yourself.”
“I thank my father. The Tuscaroras are not poor. The woman will look for
my blankets in the canoe.”
“As you wish, my friend. We think it necessary to detain you; but not
necessary to confine or to maltreat you. Send your squaw into the canoe
for the blankets and you may follow her yourself, and hand us up the
paddles. As there may be some sleepy heads in the _Scud_, Eau-douce,”
added the Sergeant in a lower tone, “it may be well to secure the
paddles.”
Jasper assented, and Arrowhead and his wife, with whom resistance
appeared to be out of the question, silently complied with the
directions. A few expressions of sharp rebuke passed from the Indian
to his wife, while both were employed in the canoe, which the latter
received with submissive quiet, immediately repairing an error she had
made by laying aside the blanket she had taken and searching for another
that was more to her tyrant's mind.
“Come, bear a hand, Arrowhead,” said the Sergeant, who stood on the
gunwale overlooking the movements of the two, which were proceeding too
slowly for the impatience of a drowsy man; “it is getting late; and we
soldiers have such a thing as reveille--early to bed and early to rise.”
“Arrowhead is coming,” was the answer, as the Tuscarora stepped towards
the head of his canoe.
One blow of his keen knife severed the rope which held the boat, and
then the cutter glanced ahead, leaving the light bubble of bark, which
instantly lost its way, almost stationary. So suddenly and dexterously
was this manoeuvre performed, that the canoe was on the lee quarter of
the _Scud_ before the Sergeant was aware of the artifice, and quite in
her wake ere he had time to announce it to his companions.
“Hard-a-lee!” shouted Jasper, letting fly the jib-sheet with his own
hands, when the cutter came swiftly up to the breeze, with all her
canvas flapping, or was running into the wind's eye, as seamen term
it, until the light craft was a hundred feet to windward of her former
position. Quick and dexterous as was this movement, and ready as had
been the expedient, it was not quicker or more ready than that of the
Tuscarora. With an intelligence that denoted some familiarity with
vessels, he had seized his paddle and was already skimming the
water, aided by the efforts of his wife. The direction he took was
south-westerly, or on a line that led him equally towards the wind and
the shore, while it also kept him so far aloof from the cutter as to
avoid the danger of the latter falling on board of him when she filled
on the other tack. Swiftly as the _Scud_ had shot into the wind, and far
as she had forced ahead, Jasper knew it was necessary to cast her ere
she had lost all her way; and it was not two minutes from the time the
helm had been put down before the lively little craft was aback forward,
and rapidly falling off, in order to allow her sails to fill on the
opposite tack.
“He will escape!” said Jasper the instant he caught a glimpse of the
relative bearings of the cutter and the canoe. “The cunning knave is
paddling dead to windward, and the _Scud_ can never overtake him!”
“You have a canoe!” exclaimed the Sergeant, manifesting the eagerness of
a boy to join in the pursuit; “let us launch it, and give chase!”
“It will be useless. If Pathfinder had been on deck, there might have
been a chance; but there is none now. To launch the canoe would have
taken three or four minutes, and the time lost would be sufficient for
the purposes of Arrowhead.”
Both Cap and the Sergeant saw the truth of this, which would have been
nearly self-evident even to one unaccustomed to vessels. The shore was
distant less than half a mile, and the canoe was already glancing into
its shadows, at a rate to show that it would reach the land before its
pursuers could probably get half the distance. The helm of the _Scud_
was reluctantly put up again, and the cutter wore short round on her
heel, coming up to her course on the other tack, as if acting on
an instinct. All this was done by Jasper in profound silence, his
assistants understanding what was necessary, and lending their aid in a
sort of mechanical imitation. While these manoeuvres were in the course
of execution, Cap took the Sergeant by a button, and led him towards the
cabin-door, where he was out of ear-shot, and began to unlock his stores
of thought.
“Hark'e, brother Dunham,” said he, with an ominous face, “this is a
matter that requires mature thought and much circumspection.”
“The life of a soldier, brother Cap, is one of constant thought and
circumspection. On this frontier, were we to overlook either, our scalps
might be taken from our heads in the first nap.”
“But I consider this capture of Arrowhead as a circumstance; and I might
add his escape as another. This Jasper Freshwater must look to it.”
“They are both circumstances truly, brother; but they tell different
ways. If it is a circumstance against the lad that the Indian has
escaped, it is a circumstance in his favor that he was first taken.”
“Ay, ay, but two circumstances do not contradict each other like two
negatives. If you will follow the advice of an old seaman, Sergeant, not
a moment is to be lost in taking the steps necessary for the security of
the vessel and all on board of her. The cutter is now slipping through
the water at the rate of six knots, and as the distances are so short
on this bit of a pond, we may all find ourselves in a French port before
morning, and in a French prison before night.”
“This may be true enough. What would you advise me to do, brother?”
“In my opinion you should put this Master Freshwater under arrest on the
spot; send him below under the charge of a sentinel, and transfer the
command of the cutter to me. All this you have power to perform, the
craft belonging to the army, and you being the commanding officer of the
troops present.”
Sergeant Dunham deliberated more than an hour on the propriety of this
proposal; for, though sufficiently prompt when his mind was really made
up, he was habitually thoughtful and wary. The habit of superintending
the personal police of the garrison had made him acquainted with
character, and he had long been disposed to think well of Jasper. Still
that subtle poison, suspicion, had entered his soul; and so much were
the artifices and intrigues of the French dreaded, that, especially
warned as he had been by his commander, it is not to be wondered that
the recollection of years of good conduct should vanish under the
influence of a distrust so keen, and seemingly so plausible. In this
embarrassment the Sergeant consulted the Quartermaster, whose opinion,
as his superior, he felt bound to respect, though at the moment
independent of his control. It is an unfortunate occurrence for one who
is in a dilemma to ask advice of another who is desirous of standing
well in his favor, the party consulted being almost certain to try
to think in the manner which will be the most agreeable to the party
consulting. In the present instance it was equally unfortunate, as
respects a candid consideration of the subject, that Cap, instead of the
Sergeant himself, made the statement of the case; for the earnest old
sailor was not backward in letting his listener perceive to which side
he was desirous that the Quartermaster should lean. Lieutenant Muir was
much too politic to offend the uncle and father of the woman he hoped
and expected to win, had he really thought the case admitted of doubt;
but, in the manner in which the facts were submitted to him, he was
seriously inclined to think that it would be well to put the control
of the _Scud_ temporarily into the management of Cap, as a precaution
against treachery. This opinion then decided the Sergeant, who forthwith
set about the execution of the necessary measures.
Without entering into any explanations, Sergeant Dunham simply informed
Jasper that he felt it to be his duty to deprive him temporarily of the
command of the cutter, and to confer it on his own brother-in-law. A
natural and involuntary burst of surprise, which escaped the young man,
was met by a quiet remark, reminding him that military service was
often of a nature that required concealment, and a declaration that the
present duty was of such a character that this particular arrangement
had become indispensable. Although Jasper's astonishment remained
undiminished,--the Sergeant cautiously abstaining from making any
allusion to his suspicions,--the young man was accustomed to obey with
military submission; and he quietly acquiesced, with his own mouth
directing the little crew to receive their further orders from Cap until
another change should be effected. When, however, he was told the case
required that not only he himself, but his principal assistant, who, on
account of his long acquaintance with the lake, was usually termed the
pilot, were to remain below, there was an alteration in his countenance
and manner that denoted strong feeling, though it was so well mastered
as to leave even the distrustful Cap in doubt as to its meaning. As a
matter of course, however, when distrust exists, it was not long before
the worst construction was put upon it.
As soon as Jasper and the pilot were below, the sentinel at the hatch
received private orders to pay particular attention to both; to allow
neither to come on deck again without giving instant notice to the
person who might then be in charge of the cutter, and to insist on his
return below as soon as possible. This precaution, however, was uncalled
for; Jasper and his assistant both throwing themselves silently on their
pallets, which neither quitted again that night.
“And now, Sergeant,” said Cap, as soon as he found himself master of
the deck, “you will just have the goodness to give me the courses and
distance, that I may see the boat keeps her head the right way.”
“I know nothing of either, brother Cap,” returned Dunham, not a little
embarrassed at the question. “We must make the best of our way to the
station among the Thousand Islands, 'where we shall land, relieve
the party that is already out, and get information for our future
government.' That's it, nearly word for word, as it stands in the
written orders.”
“But you can muster a chart--something in the way of bearings and
distances, that I may see the road?”
“I do not think Jasper ever had anything of the sort to go by.”
“No chart, Sergeant Dunham!”
“Not a scrap of a pen even. Our sailors navigate this lake without any
aid from maps.”
“The devil they do! They must be regular Yahoos. And do you suppose,
Sergeant Dunham, that I can find one island out of a thousand without
knowing its name or its position, without even a course or a distance?”
“As for the _name_, brother Cap, you need not be particular, for not one
of the whole thousand _has_ a name, and so a mistake can never be made
on that score. As for the position, never having been there myself,
I can tell you nothing about it, nor do I think its position of any
particular consequence, provided we find the spot. Perhaps one of the
hands on deck can tell us the way.”
“Hold on, Sergeant--hold on a moment, if you please, Sergeant Dunham.
If I am to command this craft, it must be done, if you please, without
holding any councils of war with the cook and cabin-boy. A ship-master
is a ship-master, and he must have an opinion of his own, even if it be
a wrong one. I suppose you know service well enough to understand that
it is better in a commander to go wrong than to go nowhere. At all
events, the Lord High Admiral couldn't command a yawl with dignity, if
he consulted the cockswain every time he wished to go ashore. No sir, if
I sink, I sink! but, d---me, I'll go down ship-shape and with dignity.”
“But, brother Cap, I have no wish to go down anywhere, unless it be to
the station among the Thousand Islands whither we are bound.”
“Well, well, Sergeant, rather than ask advice--that is, direct,
barefaced advice--of a foremast hand, or any other than a quarter-deck
officer, I would go round to the whole thousand, and examine them one by
one until we got the right haven. But there is such a thing as coming at
an opinion without manifesting ignorance, and I will manage to rouse all
there is out of these hands, and make them think all the while that I
am cramming them with my own experience! We are sometimes obliged to use
the glass at sea when there is nothing in sight, or to heave the lead
long before we strike soundings. When a youngster, sailed two v'y'ges
with a man who navigated his ship pretty much by the latter sort of
information, which sometimes answers.”
“I know we are steering in the right direction at present,” returned
the Sergeant; “but in the course of a few hours we shall be up with a
headland, where we must feel our way with more caution.”
“Leave me to pump the man at the wheel, brother, and you shall see that
I will make him suck in a very few minutes.”
Cap and the Sergeant now walked aft, until they stood by the sailor who
was at the helm, Cap maintaining an air of security and tranquillity,
like one who was entirely confident of his own powers.
“This is a wholesome air, my lad,” Cap observed, in the manner that a
superior on board a vessel sometimes condescends to use to a favored
inferior. “Of course you have it in this fashion off the land every
night?”
“At this season of the year, sir,” the man returned, touching his hat,
out of respect, to his new commander and Sergeant Dunham's connection.
“The same thing, I take it, among the Thousand Islands? The wind will
stand, of course, though we shall then have land on every side of us.”
“When we get farther east, sir, the wind will probably shift, for there
can then be no particular land-breeze.”
“Ay, ay; so much for your fresh water! It has always some trick that is
opposed to nature. Now, down among the West India Islands, one is just
as certain of having a land-breeze as he is of having a sea-breeze. In
that respect there is no difference, though it's quite in rule it should
be different up here on this bit of fresh water. Of course, my lad, you
know all about these said Thousand Islands?”
“Lord bless you, Master Cap, nobody knows all about them or anything
about them. They are a puzzle to the oldest sailor on the lake, and we
don't pretend to know even their names. For that matter, most of them
have no more names than a child that dies before it is christened.”
“Are you a Roman Catholic?” demanded the Sergeant sharply.
“No, sir, nor anything else. I'm a generalizer about religion, never
troubling that which don't trouble me.”
“Hum! a generalizer; that is, no doubt, one of the new sects that
afflict the country,” muttered Mr. Dunham, whose grandfather had been
a New Jersey Quaker, his father a Presbyterian, and who had joined the
Church of England himself after he entered the army.
“I take it, John--” resumed Cap. “Your name is Jack, I believe?”
“No, sir; I am called Robert.”
“Ay, Robert, it's very much the same thing, Jack or Bob; we use the two
indifferently. I say, Bob, it's good holding ground, is it, down at this
same station for which we are bound?”
“Bless you, sir! I know no more about it than one of the Mohawks, or a
soldier of the 55th.”
“Did you never anchor there?”
“Never, sir. Master Eau-douce always makes fast to the shore.”
“But in running in for the town, you kept the lead going, out of
question, and must have tallowed as usual.”
“Tallow!--and town, too! Bless your heart, Master Cap! there is no more
town than there is on your chin, and not half as much tallow!”
The Sergeant smiled grimly, but his brother-in-law did not detect this
proof of humor.
“No church tower, nor light, nor fort, ha? There is a garrison, as you
call it hereaway, at least?”
“Ask Sergeant Dunham, sir, if you wish to know that. All the garrison is
on board the _Scud_.”
“But in running in, Bob, which of the channels do you think the best?
the one you went last, or--or--or--ay, or the other?”
“I can't say, sir; I know nothing of either.”
“You didn't go to sleep, fellow, at the wheel, did you?”
“Not at the wheel, sir, but down in the fore-peak in my berth. Eau-douce
sent us below, soldiers and all, with the exception of the pilot, and we
know no more of the road than if we had never been over it. This he has
always done in going in and coming out; and, for the life of me, I could
tell you nothing of the channel, or the course, after we are once fairly
up with the islands. No one knows anything of either but Jasper and the
pilot.”
“Here is a circumstance for you, Sergeant,” said Cap, leading his
brother-in-law a little aside; “there is no one on board to pump, for
they all suck from ignorance at the first stroke of the brake. How the
devil am I to find the way to this station for which we are bound?”
“Sure enough, brother Cap, your question is more easily put than
answered. Is there no such thing as figuring it out by navigation? I
thought you salt-water mariners were able to do as small a thing as
that. I have often read of their discovering islands, surely.”
“That you have, brother, that you have; and this discovery would be the
greatest of them all; for it would not only be discovering one island,
but one island out of a thousand.”
“Still, the sailors of the lake have a method of finding the places they
wish to go to.”
“If I have understood you, Sergeant, this station or blockhouse is
particularly private.”
“It is, indeed, the utmost care having been taken to prevent a knowledge
of its position from reaching the enemy.”
“And you expect me, a stranger on your lake, to find this place without
chart, course, distance, latitude, longitude, or soundings,--ay, d---me,
or tallow! Allow me to ask if you think a mariner runs by his nose, like
one of Pathfinder's hounds?”
“Well, brother, you may yet learn something by questioning the young man
at the helm; I can hardly think that he is as ignorant as he pretends to
be.”
“Hum!--this looks like another circumstance. For that matter, the case
is getting to be so full of circumstances that one hardly knows how to
foot up the evidence. But we will soon see how much the lad knows.”
Cap and the Sergeant now returned to their station near the helm, and
the former renewed his inquiries.
“Do you happen to know what may be the latitude and longitude of this
said island, my lad?” he asked.
“The what, sir?”
“Why, the latitude or longitude--one or both; I'm not particular which,
as I merely inquire in order to see how they bring up young men on this
bit of fresh water.”
“I'm not particular about either myself, sir, and so I do not happen to
know what you mean.”
“Not what I mean! You know what latitude is?”
“Not I, sir!” returned the man, hesitating. “Though I believe it is
French for the upper lakes.”
“Whe-e-e-w-!” whistled Cap, drawing out his breath like the broken stop
of an organ; “latitude, French for upper lakes! Hark'e, young man, do
you know what longitude means?”
“I believe I do, sir; that is, five feet six, the regulation height for
soldiers in the king's service.”
“There's the longitude found out for you, Sergeant, in the rattling of
a brace-block! You have some notion about a degree, and minutes and
seconds, I hope?”
“Yes, sir; degree means my betters; and minutes and seconds are for
the short or long log-lines. We all know these things as well as the
salt-water people.”
“D---me, brother Dunham, if I think even Faith can get along on this
lake, much as they say it can do with mountains. Well, my lad, you
understand the azimuth, and measuring distances, and how to box the
compass.”
“As for the first, sir, I can't say I do. The distances we all know, as
we measure them from point to point; and as for boxing the compass, I
will turn my back to no admiral in his Majesty's fleet. Nothe, nothe
and by east, nothe, nothe-east, nothe-east and by nothe, nothe-east,
nothe-east and by east, east-nothe-east, east and by nothe-east--”
“That will do, that will do. You'll bring about a shift of wind if you
go on in this manner. I see very plainly, Sergeant,” walking away again,
and dropping his voice, “we've nothing to hope for from that chap. I'll
stand on two hours longer on this tack, when we'll heave-to and get the
soundings, after which we will be governed by circumstances.”
To this the Sergeant made no objections; and as the wind grew lighter,
as usual with the advance of night, and there were no immediate
obstacles to the navigation, he made a bed of a sail on deck, and was
soon lost in the sound sleep of a soldier. Cap continued to walk the
deck, for he was one whose iron frame set fatigue at defiance, and not
once that night did he close his eyes.
It was broad daylight when Sergeant Dunham awoke, and the exclamation
of surprise that escaped him, as he rose to his feet and began to look
about him, was stronger than it was usual for one so drilled to suffer
to be heard. He found the weather entirely changed, the view bounded
by driving mist that limited the visible horizon to a circle of about a
mile in diameter, the lake raging and covered with foam, and the _Scud_
lying-to. A brief conversation with his brother-in-law let him into the
secrets of all these sudden changes.
According to the account of Master Cap, the wind had died away to a calm
about midnight, or just as he was thinking of heaving-to, to sound, for
islands ahead were beginning to be seen. At one A.M. it began to blow
from the north-east, accompanied by a drizzle, and he stood off to the
northward and westward, knowing that the coast of New York lay in the
opposite direction. At half-past one he stowed the flying-jib, reefed
the mainsail, and took the bonnet off the jib. At two he was compelled
to get a second reef aft; and by half-past two he had put a balance-reef
in the sail, and was lying-to.
“I can't say but the boat behaves well, Sergeant,” the old sailor added,
“but it blows forty-two pounders. I had no idea there were any such
currents of air up here on this bit of fresh water, though I care
not the knotting of a yarn for it, as your lake has now somewhat of a
natural look; and if this d----d water had a savor of salt about it, one
might be comfortable.”
“How long have you been heading in this direction, brother Cap?”
inquired the prudent soldier; “and at what rate may we be going through
the water?”
“Why, two or three hours, mayhap, and she went like a horse for the
first pair of them. Oh, we've a fine offing now! for, to own the truth,
little relishing the neighborhood of them said islands, although they
are to windward, I took the helm myself, and run her off free for some
league or two. We are well to leeward of them, I'll engage--I say to
leeward; for though one might wish to be well to windward of one island,
or even half a dozen, when it comes to a thousand, the better way is
to give it up at once, and to slide down under their lee as fast as
possible. No, no; there they are up yonder in the dingle; and there they
may stay, for anything Charles Cap cares.”
“As the north shore lies only some five or six leagues from us, brother,
and I know there is a large bay in that quarter, might it not be well to
consult some of the crew concerning our position, if, indeed, we do not
call up Jasper Eau-douce, and tell him to carry us back to Oswego? For
it is quite impossible we should ever reach the station with this wind
directly in our teeth.”
“There are several serious professional reasons, Sergeant, against all
your propositions. In the first place, an admission of ignorance on
the part of a commander would destroy discipline. No matter, brother;
I understand your shake of the head, but nothing capsizes discipline so
much as to confess ignorance. I once knew a master of a vessel who went
a week on a wrong course rather than allow he had made a mistake; and
it was surprising how much he rose in the opinions of his people, just
because they could not understand him.”
“That may do on salt water, brother Cap, but it will hardly do on fresh.
Rather than wreck my command on the Canada shore, I shall feel it a duty
to take Jasper out of arrest.”
“And make a haven in Frontenac. No, Sergeant; the _Scud_ is in good
hands, and will now learn something of seamanship. We have a fine
offing, and no one but a madman would think of going upon a coast in
a gale like this. I shall ware every watch, and then we shall be safe
against all dangers but those of the drift, which, in a light low craft
like this, without top-hamper, will be next to nothing. Leave it all
to me, Sergeant, and I pledge you the character of Charles Cap that all
will go well.”
Sergeant Dunham was fain to yield. He had great confidence in his
connection's professional skill, and hoped that he would take such care
of the cutter as would amply justify his opinion of him. On the other
hand, as distrust, like care, grows by what it feeds on, he entertained
so much apprehension of treachery, that he was quite willing any one but
Jasper should just then have the control of the fate of the whole party.
Truth, moreover, compels us to admit another motive. The particular
duty on which he was now sent of right should have been confided to
a commissioned officer; and Major Duncan had excited a good deal of
discontent among the subalterns of the garrison, by having confided it
to one of the Sergeant's humble station. To return without having even
reached the point of destination, therefore, the latter felt would be
a failure from which he was not likely soon to recover, and the measure
would at once be the means of placing a superior in his shoes.