“I don’t know, Benjamin,” returned the sheriff; “a haul of one thousand Otsego bass, without counting pike, pickerel, perch, bull-pouts, salmon-trouts, and suckers, is no bad fishing, let me tell you.
There may he sport in sticking a shark, but what is he good for after you have got him?
Now, any one of the fish that I have named is fit to set before a king.”
“Well, squire,” returned Benjamin, “just listen to the philosophy of the thing.
Would it stand to reason, that such a fish should live and be catched in this here little pond of water, where it’s hardly deep enough to drown a man, as you’ll find in the wide ocean, where, as every body knows that is, everybody that has followed the seas, whales and grampuses are to be seen, that are as long as one of the pine-trees on yonder mountain?”
“Softly, softly, Benjamin,” said the sheriff, as if he wished to save the credit of his favorite; “why, some of the pines will measure two hundred feet, and even more.”
“Two hundred or two thousand, it’s all the same thing,” cried Benjamin, with an air which manifested that he was not easily to be bullied out of his opinion, on a subject like the present.
“Haven’t I been there, and haven’t I seen?
I have said that you fall in with whales as long as one of them there pines: and what I have once said I’ll stand to!”
During this dialogue, which was evidently but the close of much longer discussion, the huge frame of Billy Kirby was seen extended on one side of the fire, where he was picking his teeth with splinters of the chips near him, and occasionally shaking his head with distrust of Benjamin’s assertions.
“I’ve a notion,” said the wood-chopper, “that there’s water in this lake to swim the biggest whale that ever was invented; and, as to the pines, I think I ought to know so’thing consarning them; I have chopped many a one that was sixty times the length of my helve, without counting the eye; and I believe, Benny, that if the old pine that stands in the hollow of the Vision Mountain just over the village—you may see the tree itself by looking up, for the moon is on its top yet—well, now I believe, if that same tree was planted out in the deepest part of the lake, there would be water enough for the biggest ship that ever was built to float over it, without touching its upper branches, I do.”
“Did’ee ever see a ship, Master Kirby?” roared the steward, “did’ee ever see a ship, man? or any craft bigger than a lime-scow, or a wood-boat, on this here small bit of fresh water?”
“Yes, I have,” said the wood-chopper stoutly;
“I can say that I have, and tell no lie.”
“Did’ee ever see a British ship, Master Kirby? an English line-of-battle ship, boy?
Where did’ee ever fall in with a regular built vessel, with starn-post and cutwater, gar board-streak and plank-shear, gangways, and hatchways, and waterways, quarter-deck, and forecastle, ay, and flush-deck?—tell me that, man, if you can; where away did’ee ever fall in with a full-rigged, regular-built, necked vessel?”
The whole company were a good deal astounded with this overwhelming question, and even Richard afterward remarked that it “was a thousand pities that Benjamin could not read, or he must have made a valuable officer to the British marine.
It is no wonder that they overcame the French so easily on the water, when even the lowest sailor so well understood the different parts of a vessel.”
But Billy Kirby was a fearless wight, and had great jealousy of foreign dictation; he had risen on his feet, and turned his back to the fire, during the voluble delivery of this interrogatory; and when the steward ended, contrary to all expectation, he gave the following spirited reply:
“Where! why, on the North River, and maybe on Champlain.
There’s sloops on the river, boy, that would give a hard time on’t to the stoutest vessel King George owns.
They carry masts of ninety feet in the clear of good solid pine, for I’ve been at the chopping of many a one in Varmount State.
I wish I was captain in one of them, and you was in that Board-dish that you talk so much about, and we’d soon see what good Yankee stuff is made on, and whether a Varmounter’s hide ain’t as thick as an Englishman’s.”
The echoes from the opposite hills, which were more than half a mile from the fishing point, sent back the discordant laugh that Benjamin gave forth at this challenge; and the woods that covered their sides seemed, by the noise that issued from their shades, to be full of mocking demons.
“Let us descend to the shore,” whispered Marmaduke, “or there will soon be ill-blood between them.
Benjamin is a fearless boaster; and Kirby, though good-natured, is a careless son of the forest, who thinks one American more than a match for six Englishmen.
I marvel that Dickon is silent, where there is such a trial of skill in the superlative!”
The appearance of Judge Temple and the ladies produced, if not a pacification, at least a cessation of hostilities.
Obedient to the directions of Mr. Jones the fishermen prepared to launch their boat, which had been seen in the background of the view, with the net carefully disposed on a little platform in its stern, ready for service.
Richard gave vent to his reproaches at the tardiness of the pedestrians, when all the turbulent passions of the party were succeeded by a calm, as mild and as placid as that which prevailed over the beautiful sheet of water that they were about to rifle of its best treasures.
The night had now become so dark as to render objects, without the reach of the light of the fire, not only indistinct, but in most cases invisible.
For a little distance the water was discernible, glistening, as the glare from the fire danced over its surface, touching it here and there with red quivering streaks; but, at a hundred feet from the shore, there lay a boundary of impenetrable gloom.
One or two stars were shining through the openings of the clouds, and the lights were seen in the village, glimmering faintly, as if at an immeasurable distance.
At times, as the fire lowered, or as the horizon cleared, the outline of the mountain, on the other side of the lake, might be traced by its undulations; but its shadow was cast, wide and dense, on the bosom of the water, rendering the darkness in that direction trebly deep.
Benjamin Pump was invariably the coxswain and net caster of Richard’s boat, unless the sheriff saw fit to preside in person: and, on the present occasion, Billy Kirby, and a youth of about half his strength, were assigned to the oars.
The remainder of the assistants were stationed at the drag-ropes.
The arrangements were speedily made, and Richard gave the signal to “shove off.”
Elizabeth watched the motion of the batteau as it pulled from the shore, letting loose its rope as it went, but it soon disappeared in the darkness, when the ear was her only guide to its evolutions.
There was great affectation of stillness during all these manoeuvers, in order, as Richard assured them, “not to frighten the bass, who were running into the shoal waters, and who would approach the light if not disturbed by the sounds from the fishermen.”
The hoarse voice of Benjamin was alone heard issuing out of the gloom, as he uttered, in authoritative tones, “Pull larboard oar,” “Pull starboard,” “Give way together, boys,” and such other indicative mandates as were necessary for the right disposition of his seine.
A long time was passed in this necessary part of the process, for Benjamin prided himself greatly on his skill in throwing the net, and, in fact, most of the success of the sport depended on its being done with judgment.
At length a loud splash in the water, as he threw away the “staff,” or “stretcher,” with a hoarse call from the steward of
“Clear,” announced that the boat was returning; when Richard seized a brand from the fire, and ran to a point as far above the centre of the fishing-ground, as the one from which the batteau had started was below it.
“Stick her in dead for the squire, boys,” said the steward, “and we’ll have a look at what grows in this here pond.”
In place of the falling net were now to be heard the quick strokes of the oars, and the noise of the rope running out of the boat.
Presently the batteau shot into the circle of light, and in an instant she was pulled to the shore.
Several eager hands were extended to receive the line, and, both ropes being equally well manned, the fishermen commenced hauling in with slow, and steady drags, Richard standing to the centre, giving orders, first to one party, and then to the other, to increase or slacken their efforts, as occasion required.
The visitors were posted near him, and enjoyed a fair view of the whole operation, which was slowly advancing to an end.
Opinions as to the result of their adventure were now freely hazarded by all the men, some declaring that the net came in as light as a feather, and others affirming that it seemed to be full of logs.
As the ropes were many hundred feet in length, these opposing sentiments were thought to be of little moment by the sheriff, who would go first to one line, and then to the other, giving each small pull, in order to enable him to form an opinion for himself.