Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,
Calm or convulsed--in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark-heaving;--boundless, endless, and sublime--
The image of eternity; the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
BYRON.
As the day advanced, that portion of the inmates of the vessel which had
the liberty of doing so appeared on deck. As yet the sea was not very
high, from which it was inferred that the cutter was still under the lee
of the islands; but it was apparent to all who understood the lake that
they were about to experience one of the heavy autumnal gales of
that region. Land was nowhere visible; and the horizon on every side
exhibited that gloomy void, which lends to all views on vast bodies of
water the sublimity of mystery. The swells, or, as landsmen term them,
the waves, were short and curling, breaking of necessity sooner than
the longer seas of the ocean; while the element itself, instead of
presenting that beautiful hue which rivals the deep tint of the southern
sky, looked green and angry, though wanting in the lustre that is
derived from the rays of the sun.
The soldiers were soon satisfied with the prospect, and one by one they
disappeared, until none were left on deck but the crew, the Sergeant,
Cap, Pathfinder, the Quartermaster, and Mabel. There was a shade on the
brow of the last, who had been made acquainted with the real state of
things, and who had fruitlessly ventured an appeal in favor of Jasper's
restoration to the command. A night's rest and a night's reflection
appeared also to have confirmed the Pathfinder in his opinion of the
young man's innocence; and he, too, had made a warm appeal on behalf of
his friend, though with the same want of success.
Several hours passed away, the wind gradually getting heavier and the
sea rising, until the motion of the cutter compelled Mabel and the
Quartermaster to retreat also. Cap wore several times; and it was now
evident that the _Scud_ was drifting into the broader and deeper parts
of the lake, the seas raging down upon her in a way that none but a
vessel of superior mould and build could have long ridden and withstood.
All this, however, gave Cap no uneasiness; but, like the hunter that
pricks his ears at the sound of the horn, or the war-horse that paws and
snorts with pleasure at the roll of the drum, the whole scene awakened
all that was man within him; and instead of the captious, supercilious,
and dogmatic critic, quarrelling with trifles and exaggerating
immaterial things, he began to exhibit the qualities of the hardy and
experienced seaman which he truly was. The hands soon imbibed a respect
for his skill; and, though they wondered at the disappearance of their
old commander and the pilot, for which no reason had been publicly
given, they soon yielded an implicit and cheerful obedience to the new
one.
“This bit of fresh water, after all, brother Dunham, has some spirit, I
find,” cried Cap about noon, rubbing his hands in pure satisfaction at
finding himself once more wrestling with the elements. “The wind
seems to be an honest old-fashioned gale, and the seas have a fanciful
resemblance to those of the Gulf Stream. I like this, Sergeant, I like
this, and shall get to respect your lake, if it hold out twenty-four
hours longer in the fashion in which it has begun.”
“Land, ho!” shouted the man who was stationed on the forecastle.
Cap hurried forward; and there, sure enough, the land was visible
through the drizzle, at the distance of about half a mile, the cutter
heading directly towards it. The first impulse of the old seaman was
to give an order to “stand by, to ware off shore;” but the cool-headed
soldier restrained him.
“By going a little nearer,” said the Sergeant, “some of us may recognize
the place. Most of us know the American shore in this part of the lake;
and it will be something gained to learn our position.”
“Very true, very true; if, indeed, there is any chance of that we will
hold on. What is this off here, a little on our weather-bow? It looks
like a low headland.”
“The garrison, by Jove!” exclaimed the other, whose trained eye sooner
recognized the military outlines than the less instructed senses of his
connection.
The Sergeant was not mistaken. There was the fort, sure enough, though
it looked dim and indistinct through the fine rain, as if it were seen
in the dusk of evening or the haze of morning. The low, sodded, and
verdant ramparts, the sombre palisades, now darker than ever with water,
the roof of a house or two, the tall, solitary flagstaff, with its
halyards blown steadily out into a curve that appeared traced in
immovable lines in the air, were all soon to be seen though no sign of
animated life could be discovered. Even the sentinel was housed; and at
first it was believed that no eye would detect the presence of their
own vessel. But the unceasing vigilance of a border garrison did not
slumber: one of the look-outs probably made the interesting discovery;
a man or two were seen on some elevated stands, and then the entire
ramparts next the lake were dotted with human beings.
The whole scene was one in which sublimity was singularly relieved by
the picturesque. The raging of the tempest had a character of duration
that rendered it easy to imagine it might be a permanent feature of
the spot. The roar of the wind was without intermission, and the raging
water answered to its dull but grand strains with hissing spray, a
menacing wash, and sullen surges. The drizzle made a medium for the eye
which closely resembled that of a thin mist, softening and rendering
mysterious the images it revealed, while the genial feeling that is
apt to accompany a gale of wind on water contributed to aid the milder
influences of the moment. The dark interminable forest hove up out
of the obscurity, grand, sombre, and impressive, while the solitary,
peculiar, and picturesque glimpses of life that were caught in and about
the fort, formed a refuge for the eye to retreat to when oppressed with
the more imposing objects of nature.
“They see us,” said the Sergeant, “and think we have returned on account
of the gale, and have fallen to leeward of the port. Yes, there is Major
Duncan himself on the north-eastern bastion; I know him by his height,
and by the officers around him.”
“Sergeant, it would be worth standing a little jeering, if we could
fetch into the river, and come safely to an anchor. In that case, too,
we might land this Master Eau-douce, and purify the boat.”
“It would indeed; but, as poor a sailor as I am, I well know it cannot
be done. Nothing that sails the lake can turn to windward against this
gale; and there is no anchorage outside in weather like this.”
“I know it, I see it, Sergeant; and pleasant as is that sight to you
landsmen, we must leave it. For myself, I am never so happy in heavy
weather as when I am certain that the land is behind me.”
The _Scud_ had now forged so near in, that it became indispensable to
lay her head off shore again, and the necessary orders were given. The
storm-staysail was set forward, the gaff lowered, the helm put up, and
the light craft, that seemed to sport with the elements like a duck,
fell off a little, drew ahead swiftly, obeyed her rudder, and was soon
flying away on the top of the surges, dead before the gale. While
making this rapid flight, though the land still remained in view on
her larboard beam, the fort and the groups of anxious spectators on
its rampart were swallowed up in the mist. Then followed the evolutions
necessary to bring the head of the cutter up to the wind, when she again
began to wallow her weary way towards the north shore.
Hours now passed before any further change was made, the wind increasing
in force, until even the dogmatical Cap fairly admitted it was blowing
a thorough gale of wind. About sunset the _Scud_ wore again to keep her
off the north shore during the hours of darkness; and at midnight her
temporary master, who, by questioning the crew in an indirect manner,
had obtained some general knowledge of the size and shape of the lake,
believed himself to be about midway between the two shores. The height
and length of the seas aided this impression; and it must be added
that Cap by this time began to feel a respect for fresh water which
twenty-four hours earlier he would have derided as impossible. Just as
the night turned, the fury of the wind became so great that he found it
impossible to bear up against it, the water falling on the deck of the
little craft in such masses as to cause it to shake to the centre, and,
though a vessel of singularly lively qualities, to threaten to bury it
beneath its weight. The people of the _Scud_ averred that never before
had they been out in such a tempest, which was true; for, possessing
a perfect knowledge of all the rivers and headlands and havens, Jasper
would have carried the cutter in shore long ere this, and placed her in
safety in some secure anchorage. But Cap still disdained to consult the
young master, who continued below, determining to act like a mariner of
the broad ocean.
It was one in the morning when the storm-staysail was again got on the
_Scud_, the head of the mainsail lowered, and the cutter put before the
wind. Although the canvas now exposed was merely a rag in surface, the
little craft nobly justified the use of the name she bore. For eight
hours did she scud in truth; and it was almost with the velocity of the
gulls that wheeled wildly over her in the tempest, apparently afraid
to alight in the boiling caldron of the lake. The dawn of day brought
little change; for no other horizon became visible than the little
circle of drizzling sky and water already described, in which it seemed
as if the elements were rioting in a sort of chaotic confusion. During
this time the crew and passengers of the cutter were of necessity
passive. Jasper and the pilot remained below; but, the motion of the
vessel having become easier, nearly all the rest were on deck. The
morning meal had been taken in silence, and eye met eye, as if their
owners asked each other, in dumb show, what was to be the end of this
strife in the elements. Cap, however, was perfectly composed, and his
face brightened, his step grew firmer, and his whole air more assured,
as the storm increased, making larger demands on his professional skill
and personal spirit. He stood on the forecastle, his arms crossed,
balancing his body with a seaman's instinct, while his eyes watched the
caps of the seas, as they broke and glanced past the reeling cutter,
itself in such swift motion, as if they were the scud flying athwart the
sky. At this sublime instant one of the hands gave the unexpected cry of
“A sail!”
There was so much of the wild and solitary character of the wilderness
about Ontario, that one scarcely expected to meet with a vessel on its
waters. The _Scud_ herself, to those who were in her, resembled a
man threading the forest alone, and the meeting was like that of two
solitary hunters beneath the broad canopy of leaves that then covered so
many millions of acres on the continent of America. The peculiar state
of the weather served to increase the romantic, almost supernatural
appearance of the passage. Cap alone regarded it with practised eyes,
and even he felt his iron nerves thrill under the sensations that were
awakened by the wild features of the scene.
The strange vessel was about two cables' length ahead of the _Scud_,
standing by the wind athwart her bows, and steering a course to render
it probable that the latter would pass within a few yards of her.
She was a full-rigged ship; and, seen through the misty medium of the
tempest, the most experienced eye could detect no imperfection in her
gear or construction. The only canvas she had set was a close-reefed
main-topsail, and two small storm-staysails, one forward and the other
aft. Still the power of the wind pressed so hard upon her as to bear her
down nearly to her beam-ends, whenever the hull was not righted by the
buoyancy of some wave under her lee. Her spars were all in their places,
and by her motion through the water, which might have equalled four
knots in the hour, it was apparent that she steered a little free.
“The fellow must know his position well,” said Cap, as the cutter flew
down towards the ship with a velocity almost equalling that of the gale,
“for he is standing boldly to the southward, where he expects to find
anchorage or a haven. No man in his senses would run off free in that
fashion, that was not driven to scudding, like ourselves, who did not
perfectly understand where he was going.”
“We have made an awful run, captain,” returned the man to whom this
remark had been addressed. “That is the French king's ship, Lee-my-calm
(_Le Montcalm_), and she is standing in for the Niagara, where her owner
has a garrison and a port. We've made an awful run of it!”
“Ay, bad luck to him! Frenchman-like, he skulks into port the moment he
sees an English bottom.”
“It might be well for us if we could follow him,” returned the man,
shaking his head despondingly, “for we are getting into the end of a bay
up here at the head of the lake, and it is uncertain whether we ever get
out of it again!”
“Pooh, man, pooh! We have plenty of sea room, and a good English hull
beneath us. We are no Johnny Crapauds to hide ourselves behind a point
or a fort on account of a puff of wind. Mind your helm, sir!”
The order was given on account of the menacing appearance of the
approaching passage. The _Scud_ was now heading directly for the
fore-foot of the Frenchman; and, the distance between the two vessels
having diminished to a hundred yards, it was momentarily questionable if
there was room to pass.
“Port, sir, port,” shouted Cap. “Port your helm and pass astern!”
The crew of the Frenchman were seen assembling to windward, and a few
muskets were pointed, as if to order the people of the _Scud_ to keep
off. Gesticulations were observed, but the sea was too wild and menacing
to admit of the ordinary expedients of war. The water was dripping from
the muzzles of two or three light guns on board the ship, but no one
thought of loosening them for service in such a tempest. Her black
sides, as they emerged from a wave, glistened and seemed to frown; but
the wind howled through her rigging, whistling the thousand notes of
a ship; and the hails and cries that escape a Frenchman with so much
readiness were inaudible.
“Let him halloo himself hoarse!” growled Cap. “This is no weather to
whisper secrets in. Port, sir, port!”
The man at the helm obeyed, and the next send of the sea drove the
_Scud_ down upon the quarter of the ship, so near her that the old
mariner himself recoiled a step, in a vague expectation that, at the
next surge ahead, she would drive bows foremost directly into the planks
of the other vessel. But this was not to be: rising from the crouching
posture she had taken, like a panther about to leap, the cutter dashed
onward, and at the next instant she was glancing past the stern of her
enemy, just clearing the end of her spanker-boom with her own lower
yard.
The young Frenchman who commanded the _Montcalm_ leaped on the taffrail;
and, with that high-toned courtesy which relieves even the worst acts of
his countrymen, he raised his cap and smiled a salutation as the _Scud_
shot past. There were _bonhomie_ and good taste in this act of courtesy,
when circumstances allowed of no other communications; but they were
lost on Cap, who, with an instinct quite as true to his race, shook his
fist menacingly, and muttered to himself,--
“Ay, ay, it's d----d lucky for you I've no armament on board here,
or I'd send you in to get new cabin-windows fitted. Sergeant, he's a
humbug.”
“'Twas civil, brother Cap,” returned the other, lowering his hand from
the military salute which his pride as a soldier had induced him to
return,--“'twas civil, and that's as much as you can expect from a
Frenchman. What he really meant by it no one can say.”
“He is not heading up to this sea without an object, neither. Well,
let him run in, if he can get there, we will keep the lake, like hearty
English mariners.”
This sounded gloriously, but Cap eyed with envy the glittering black
mass of the _Montcalm's_ hull, her waving topsail, and the misty
tracery of her spars, as she grew less and less distinct, and finally
disappeared in the drizzle, in a form as shadowy as that of some unreal
image. Gladly would he have followed in her wake had he dared; for, to
own the truth, the prospect of another stormy night in the midst of
the wild waters that were raging around him brought little consolation.
Still he had too much professional pride to betray his uneasiness, and
those under his care relied on his knowledge and resources, with the
implicit and blind confidence that the ignorant are apt to feel.
A few hours succeeded, and darkness came again to increase the perils of
the _Scud_. A lull in the gale, however, had induced Cap to come by
the wind once more, and throughout the night the cutter was lying-to as
before, head-reaching as a matter of course, and occasionally wearing to
keep off the land. It is unnecessary to dwell on the incidents of this
night, which resembled those of any other gale of wind. There were the
pitching of the vessel, the hissing of the waters, the dashing of spray,
the shocks that menaced annihilation to the little craft as she plunged
into the seas, the undying howl of the wind, and the fearful drift.
The last was the most serious danger; for, though exceedingly weatherly
under her canvas, and totally without top-hamper, the _Scud_ was so
light, that the combing of the swells would seem at times to wash
her down to leeward with a velocity as great as that of the surges
themselves.
During this night Cap slept soundly, and for several hours. The day was
just dawning when he felt himself shaken by the shoulder; and arousing
himself, he found the Pathfinder standing at his side. During the gale
the guide had appeared little on deck, for his natural modesty told him
that seamen alone should interfere with the management of the vessel;
and he was willing to show the same reliance on those who had charge
of the _Scud_, as he expected those who followed through the forest
to manifest in his own skill; but he now thought himself justified
in interfering, which he did in his own unsophisticated and peculiar
manner.
“Sleep is sweet, Master Cap,” said he, as soon as the eyes of the
latter were fairly open, and his consciousness had sufficiently
returned,--“sleep is sweet, as I know from experience, but life is
sweeter still. Look about you, and say if this is exactly the moment for
a commander to be off his feet.”
“How now? how now, Master Pathfinder?” growled Cap, in the first moments
of his awakened faculties. “Are you, too, getting on the side of the
grumblers? When ashore I admired your sagacity in running through the
worst shoals without a compass; and since we have been afloat, your
meekness and submission have been as pleasant as your confidence on your
own ground. I little expected such a summons from you.”
“As for myself, Master Cap, I feel I have my gifts, and I believe
they'll interfere with those of no other man; but the case may be
different with Mabel Dunham. She has her gifts, too, it is true; but
they are not rude like ours, but gentle and womanish, as they ought to
be. It's on her account that I speak, and not on my own.”
“Ay, ay, I begin to understand. The girl is a good girl, my worthy
friend; but she is a soldier's daughter and a sailor's niece, and ought
not to be too tame or too tender in a gale. Does she show any fear?”
“Not she! not she! Mabel is a woman, but she is reasonable and silent.
Not a word have I heard from her concerning our doings; though I do
think, Master Cap, she would like it better if Jasper Eau-douce were put
into his proper place, and things were restored to their old situation,
like. This is human natur'.”
“I'll warrant it--girl-like, and Dunham-like, too. Anything is better
than an old uncle, and everybody knows more than an old seaman. _This_
is human natur', Master Pathfinder, and d---me if I'm the man to sheer a
fathom, starboard or port, for all the human natur' that can be found
in a minx of twenty--ay, or” (lowering his voice a little) “for all that
can be paraded in his Majesty's 55th regiment of foot. I've not been
at sea forty years, to come up on this bit of fresh water to be taught
human natur'. How this gale holds out! It blows as hard at this moment
as if Boreas had just clapped his hand upon the bellows. And what is
all this to leeward?” (rubbing his eyes)--“land! as sure as my name is
Cap--and high land, too.”
The Pathfinder made no immediate answer; but, shaking his head, he
watched the expression of his companion's face, with a look of strong
anxiety in his own.
“Land, as certain as this is the _Scud!_” repeated Cap; “a lee shore,
and that, too, within a league of us, with as pretty a line of breakers
as one could find on the beach of all Long Island!”
“And is that encouraging? or is it disheartening?” inquired the
Pathfinder.
“Ha! encouraging--disheartening!--why, neither. No, no, there is
nothing encouraging about it; and as for disheartening, nothing ought to
dishearten a seaman. You never get disheartened or afraid in the woods,
my friend?”
“I'll not say that, I'll not say that. When the danger is great, it is
my gift to see it, and know it, and to try to avoid it; else would
my scalp long since have been drying in a Mingo wigwam. On this lake,
however, I can see no trail, and I feel it my duty to submit; though
I think we ought to remember there is such a person as Mabel Dunham on
board. But here comes her father, and he will naturally feel for his own
child.”
“We are seriously situated, I believe, brother Cap,” said the Sergeant,
when he had reached the spot, “by what I can gather from the two hands
on the forecastle? They tell me the cutter cannot carry any more sail,
and her drift is so great we shall go ashore in an hour or two. I hope
their fears have deceived them?”
Cap made no reply; but he gazed at the land with a rueful face, and then
looked to windward with an expression of ferocity, as if he would gladly
have quarrelled with the weather.
“It may be well, brother,” the Sergeant continued, “to send for Jasper
and consult him as to what is to be done. There are no French here to
dread; and, under all circumstances, the boy will save us from drowning
if possible.”
“Ay, ay, 'tis these cursed circumstances that have done all the
mischief. But let the fellow come; let him come; a few well-managed
questions will bring the truth out of him, I'll warrant you.”
This acquiescence on the part of the dogmatical Cap was no sooner
obtained, than Jasper was sent for. The young man instantly made
his appearance, his whole air, countenance, and mien expressive
of mortification, humility, and, as his observers fancied, rebuked
deception. When he first stepped on deck, Jasper cast one hurried,
anxious glance around, as if curious to know the situation of the
cutter; and that glance sufficed, it would seem, to let him into the
secret of all her perils. At first he looked to windward, as is usual
with every seaman; then he turned round the horizon, until his eye
caught a view of the high lands to leeward, when the whole truth burst
upon him at once.
“I've sent for you, Master Jasper,” said Cap, folding his arms, and
balancing his body with the dignity of the forecastle, “in order to
learn something about the haven to leeward. We take it for granted you
do not bear malice so hard as to wish to drown us all, especially the
women; and I suppose you will be man enough to help us run the cutter
into some safe berth until this bit of a gale has done blowing!”
“I would die myself rather than harm should come to Mabel Dunham,” the
young man earnestly answered.
“I knew it! I knew it!” cried the Pathfinder, clapping his hand kindly
on Jasper's shoulder. “The lad is as true as the best compass that ever
ran a boundary, or brought a man off from a blind trail. It is a mortal
sin to believe otherwise.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Cap; “especially the women! As if _they_ were in any
particular danger. Never mind, young man; we shall understand each other
by talking like two plain seamen. Do you know of any port under our
lee?”
“None. There is a large bay at this end of the lake; but it is unknown
to us all, and not easy of entrance.”
“And this coast to leeward--it has nothing particular to recommend it, I
suppose?”
“It is a wilderness until you reach the mouth of the Niagara in one
direction, and Frontenac in the other. North and west, they tell me,
there is nothing but forest and prairies for a thousand miles.”
“Thank God! then, there can be no French. Are there many savages,
hereaway, on the land?”
“The Indians are to be found in all directions; though they are nowhere
very numerous. By accident, we might find a party at any point on the
shore; or we might pass months there without seeing one.”
“We must take our chance, then, as to the blackguards; but, to be frank
with you, Master Western, if this little unpleasant matter about the
French had not come to pass, what would you now do with the cutter?”
“I am a much younger sailor than yourself, Master Cap,” said Jasper
modestly, “and am hardly fitted to advise you.”
“Ay, ay, we all know that. In a common case, perhaps not. But this is an
uncommon case, and a circumstance; and on this bit of fresh water it has
what may be called its peculiarities; and so, everything considered,
you may be fitted to advise even your own father. At all events, you
can speak, and I can judge of your opinions, agreeably to my own
experience.”
“I think, sir, before two hours are over, the cutter will have to
anchor.”
“Anchor!--not out here in the lake?”
“No, sir; but in yonder, near the land.”
“You do not mean to say, Master Eau-douce, you would anchor on a lee
shore in a gale of wind?”
“If I would save my vessel, that is exactly what I would do, Master
Cap.”
“Whe-e-e-w!--this is fresh water, with a vengeance! Hark'e, young man,
I've been a seafaring animal, boy and man, forty-one years, and I never
yet heard of such a thing. I'd throw my ground-tackle overboard before I
would be guilty of so lubberly an act!”
“That is what we do on this lake,” modestly replied Jasper, “when we are
hard pressed. I daresay we might do better, had we been better taught.”
“That you might, indeed! No; no man induces me to commit such a sin
against my own bringing up. I should never dare show my face inside
of Sandy Hook again, had I committed so know-nothing an exploit. Why,
Pathfinder, here, has more seamanship in him than that comes to. You can
go below again, Master Eau-douce.”
Jasper quietly bowed and withdrew; still, as he passed down the ladder,
the spectators observed that he cast a lingering anxious look at the
horizon to windward and the land to leeward, and then disappeared with
concern strongly expressed in every lineament of his face.