CHAPTER III.
THE SAIL DOWN THE RIVER.
The first impression of the boys was that they were passing through acountry hoary with age. The scattered homes of the farmers, whichoccasionally could be seen, were evidently all of recent date, thoughmany of them were weather-beaten and had never known the touch of apaint-brush. But the country itself in the gray of the dawn seemed tobe wrinkled and old. It was a level land and without any markedfeatures, save that of its venerable appearance; but all this wasinstantly forgotten when suddenly the full sweep of the mighty St.Lawrence burst into view.
Far as the eye could see the great mass of water stretched away, andof what a beautiful color it was! Its strong, swift current could bediscerned even from the cars, and in the distance were the islands.Beautiful cottages and well-kept lawns were before them, and from theflag-poles fluttered the stars and stripes, winding in and out as themorning breeze shook out the folds of the bunting. Far to the eastcould be seen the shores of the larger islands, many of them coveredwith trees, and already changing color in the light of the rapidlyapproaching dawn. All together, the sight was one of imposing beautyand grandeur; but all other things were speedily forgotten, for thegreat river, as it went surging in its way, seemed to fascinate theeyes of the eager boys.
Too much impressed by the sight to give voice to their sentiments, fora few minutes the lads gazed at the changing scene before them; butthey were speedily recalled to their immediate surroundings by themovements of the people in the car, who were all astir by this time.
"Here we are!" called Jock, gleefully, as the rumbling train came to astandstill, and the passengers all prepared to leave the car.
In a moment the boys joined the procession, and as they stepped uponthe dock they saw that steamers, large and small, were there, andinnumerable smaller boats of all kinds and descriptions. Whatimpressed our boys more than the steamers and yachts, however, wasthe sight of the beautiful St. Lawrence skiffs, numbers of which werenear the dock. Graceful and light as a birch-bark canoe, and withcushioned seats and even equipped with chairs, it seemed to them thatnever before had they beheld such beautiful little crafts. What speedcould be made in them, and once in the current of the great river, howthey would go!
The dock was filled, in spite of the early hour, with a multitude ofpeople, some of whom were selecting their baggage and giving ordersfor its transfer to the waiting steamers. Others were calling to theporters, and still others were themselves rushing back and forthbetween the train and the boats, looking after their own belongingsand seeing that they were properly placed. It was a stirring sight,and the fact that almost every man, to say nothing of the boys, wasequipped with the case which plainly enclosed a fishing rod, showedthat others besides themselves had hopes of sport on the great river.
Jock, who was the leader of the party, was looking eagerly about inthe crowd for some one who should correspond to the description hisfather had given him of Ethan, the man who was to be their guide andcook; but for a time he was unable to find any one whom he dared toaddress as the one he was seeking.
Soon, however, a man clad in the country garb, with a flannel shirtopen at the neck, and a huge straw hat on his head, came near andpeered inquiringly at the boys. Satisfied with his inspection, heapproached and said in a deliberate manner,--
"Mebbe you're Jock Cope's boy?"
"Yes, yes," responded Jock, quickly. "He's my father, and you areEthan, if I'm not mistaken."
"That's what folks call me. These the boys goin' into camp with ye?"he inquired with a drawl, turning to the other boys as he spoke.
"Yes, these are my friends," and Jock proceeded to introduce each toEthan.
"Glad to see ye," responded Ethan, apparently not very much impressedby the sight of the band. "Got yer trunks checked?"
"Yes, they were checked through to Alexandria Bay. We don't have to doanything here, do we?"
"Naw, unless ye want to go down to the Bay on the steamer. I've got myboat here, an' if ye want to ye can sail down with me. Ye'll havespeak up, sonny, though, for if ye want to take the steamer ye'll haveto say so mighty quick."
"We haven't had breakfast," said Jock, "and if the other fellows feelas I do, we'll want something to eat."
"Ye can get breakfast aboard the boat if ye want to an' can afford topay for it, or ye can go up to one o' the hotels an' get it, an' I'llwait here for ye. 'Tisn't for me to say."
"Oh, let's wait and get our breakfast at one of the hotels, and saildown the river in Ethan's boat," said Bert, eagerly; and as it wasapparent that all the boys shared in his desire, it was quicklydecided to leave their rods and the personal effects they had broughtwith them in his care.
Ethan received the rods with a grunt, which was not expressive of highadmiration for their outfit, and the boys at once started up thestreet to secure their breakfast. They were too much excited to givemuch attention to the straggling little village of Clayton, for theirappetites were imperative and must be satisfied, and soon theyentered one of the hotels and secured places in the dining room.
"I tell you what," exclaimed Bert, "this is great! I never saw such asight as this river. We'll have a great time here. Even Bob isexcited."
"Hungry, you mean," replied that individual. "You fellows have beenall stirred up by the scenery, but I'm thinking of the inner man."
"I'm not," said Ben. "Do you know, Jock, I'm afraid of that Ethan ofyours."
"Afraid of him? What do you mean?"
"Why, he acts as if he was a king or some other potentate. You don'treally suppose he actually owns one of these islands, do you?"
"I don't know," replied Jock. "I'll ask him, if you want me to."
"Well, the way that same Ethan looks at us, and sniffs at our rods,and treats us as if we were boys, just scares me; it does, for a fact.I don't know the difference between a reel and a rod, and somehow Iknow I shan't even dare to put a worm on my hook if he's looking atme."
"Put a worm on your hook!" exclaimed Jock, laughingly. "You aregreen. You don't use worms here."
"Don't use worms? What do you have for bait, then, I'd like to know?"
"Minnows, little fish."
"I should think it would hurt 'em if you put 'em on the hook," drawledBob; "I'm too tender-hearted for that."
"You won't have to hurt your tender feelings, Bob," laughed Jock."Ethan does all that for you. That's the advantage of having aboatman, you see."
"Ah, yes, I see," replied Bob, with a sigh of relief.
But the breakfast was now brought in, and in a moment all other thingswere forgotten as the boys fell to with a will, and ate as only hungryboys in the early morning air of the St. Lawrence can eat.
When this task was at last completed, they started eagerly toward thedock, and as they approached they discovered Ethan watching for them.He had already hoisted his sail and all things were ready for thedeparture.
As the boys leaped on board, they noticed the beautiful little craftof which Ethan was the proud owner; but as he was evidently eager toset sail at once, no remarks were made until after the boat was freefrom the dock. Then the strong breeze and the swift current combinedto send them swiftly on their way down the river, and in theexhilaration of the scene the boys for a moment gave free play totheir feelings.
"You don't often have a day like this, do you, Ethan?" said Jock.
"Hey? oh, we have 'em 'most as often as they come."
"I know that, but they don't often come, do they?"
Ethan looked at his questioner for a moment before he said, "You don'tknow much, I see. Lived in the city all yer life, haven't ye?"
"Yes," replied Jock, feeling for the moment as if he were guilty ofsomething, though of what he could not just determine; but theboatman's contempt was so evident that the lad resolved to ask no morequestions.
"Then you're Jock Cope's boy, be ye?" said Ethan, after a pause.
"Yes. I've often heard him speak of you, and tell how you two used tosit together in the same seat over in the
little red schoolhouse.Father says it's still standing, and he wants me to go over and see itsome day while we're here."
"Wants ye to see it? What fur?"
"Oh, just to see it, that's all. He wants me to see the place where hewent to school when he was a boy."
"Humph! it isn't much to see. Jest a little shanty, that's all. Say,they tell me your pa is worth a lot o' money. Is that so?"
"I don't know," said Jock. "He's got some, I suppose. Enough to payfor our expenses here this summer, I think."
"But heow much has he got?" persisted Ethan.
"I don't know just how much. He never told me."
"Got five thousand dollars?"
"Perhaps so."
"I don't b'lieve it," grunted Ethan, contemptuously. "I know JockCope, an' I know he ain't worth no sech money's that. He's done a pileo' harm to this country, though, I'll say that for him," he addedglumly.
"Done harm? My father done harm? I don't believe it!" exclaimed Jock,warmly.
"Well, he has, whether ye believe it or not."
"What's he done?"
"Oh, he wasn't satisfied to stay here an' do what his father did aforehim. No, he had to go off down to New York, an' they say he's worthfive thousand dollars now. I don't believe it, but all the boys reoundhere do, an' so they're goin' off to teown to make their fortunes too.Now my boy Tom, he's goin' to help reound your camp, ye know, he's gotthe fever too. Somebody's told him if he'll come down there they'llget him a job on the street cars an' pay him a dollar an' a half everyday." And Ethan's eyes became large as his voice dropped lower in hisefforts to be more impressive. "He's nothin' but a young fool, that'swhat he is, and he's all took up with the notion. I want you boys totell him 'tisn't so, that is, if you know anything abeout it, which Idon't much believe for my part. It doesn't stand to reason thatthere'd be anybody so tarnel foolish as jest to give him a dollar anda half every day for standin' up on a street car. No, sir. I don'tbelieve no such thing."
The boys looked at one another, and not even the sight of thebeautiful river could keep back the look of amusement which crept overtheir faces.
"Ethan, have you ever been in New York?" inquired Bob.
"Who, me? Well, I rather guess not. They don't get me to go to no sechplace as that. Pickpockets an' thieves an' gamblers. No, sir. I'venever been outside o' Jefferson an' St. Lawrence counties in all myborn days. This 'ere river is good enough for me, an' I'm goin' tostay where I'm well off. Since these city people have got to comin' uphere summers, I'm makin' money."
From Ethan's manner it was evident that he wished the boys to questionhim, and Bob was the first to improve the opportunity.
"Ethan, are you a rich man?" he inquired solemnly.
"Rich? well, I don' know as ye'd call it that exactly. I'm doin'pretty well, though. D'ye know heow much money I took in last summerrowin'?" he added, as if he were about to disclose some great secret.
"No; I can't imagine. How much was it?" said Bob.
"One hundred an' ten dollars an' sixty-nine cents!"
"You don't mean it! It can't be possible!"
"Well, it is trew, whether it's possible or not. I saved thirty-onedollars an' sixteen cents an' have got it in the bank up to Wat'townnow."
"What did you do with the rest of it?"
"Oh, I had to live, didn't I? Well, I used that in livin'. Myneighbors thought I was livin' pretty high, but I didn't put on noairs. I ain't proud."
"Whose island is that?" inquired Ben, pointing to a small island onwhich there was a beautiful cottage. He felt that diversion wasnecessary to break the spell Ethan's astounding statements hadproduced, and accordingly asked the first question that occurred tohim.
"That? oh, that b'longs to another fool deown New York way. They tellme he's just bought it an' give a thousand dollars for it. 'Tain'tworth it. 'Tisn't worth fifty cents. Ye jest can't raise nuthin' onit. Why, I could 'a' had that island for a gift if I'd been willin' topay the tax on it twenty-five year ago, an' that wasn't more'n fiftycents. There's yer camp ahead o' ye, boys."
Instantly the statements of the incredulous Ethan were forgotten, andall peered eagerly at the place he had indicated. Even theexhilaration of the sail which had occupied two hours and a half wasalso forgotten now.
As they had swept on in their course the boys had been more and moreelated. On past beautiful islands, and summer camps, and parks whichseemed like large villages, they had come. Sometimes they had passedclose to the shore in places where the channel was almost like amill-race in its swiftness, and then again they were out in the riverwhere only an eddy here and there indicated the tremendous power ofthe great water, on whose surface they were sailing. Wooded islandshad been seen, and then islands which appeared to be only great rocksand boulders loomed up before them. Camping parties like their own hadbeen passed, and salutes had been fired to acknowledge their approach.Men and women, boys and girls, had all seemed to catch something ofthe life of the great river, and on every side there appeared to bethe joy which came from the freedom from care and the life-givingbreezes of the majestic St. Lawrence.
Only Jock, of the party, had ever been there before, and in thenovelty and delight of the experience, his companions had, perhaps,failed to be duly impressed by the sceptical sentiments of theirboatman. At all events, when Ethan declared that the camp was insight, even his own presence became vague and unreal as the boyspeered eagerly before them at the place where they were to stay forthe coming six weeks, and where doubtless many and thrillingexperiences were to be theirs.