Bear and forbear

I was never more vexed and disconcerted in my life than when, from the tall tree on the hill, I discovered the robber. I think the tones in which I yelled to Tom and the sheriff betrayed the disgust I felt at the unsatisfactory situation. The officer’s confident prediction was set at nought, for the robber had evidently not gone fifty rods from the point where he landed and climbed the cliff. As Tom had so often suggested, the fellow was smart, and knew what he was about.

When I saw the robber, he was on the shelf below the cliff where he had landed, in the very act of hoisting the mainsail on board of the Raven. He worked rapidly, yet with a kind of deliberation and care which required nothing to be done over a second time. His object in landing may have been simply to get rid of his pursuers on the lake, though it was possible his had ascertained the impracticability of escaping in the direction he had apparently chosen. But his operations looked to me just like a flank movement. He had seen the steamer land a force, and then depart down the lake. Being closely pursued by the Belle, he had landed to balk Tom and me; and now, having sent all his pursuers on shore, he had them just where he wanted them. He could now cross the lake in the Raven, and make his escape on the other side. It looked to me just as though we had lost him, and I did not believe the money in the rogue’s travelling-bag would be used that day to pay the colonel’s note.

The robber hoisted the mainsail, and then the jib, of the Raven. Then, with a sinking of the heart I saw him hasten towards the place where the Belle lay. I understood his purpose, and I trembled for Tom’s boat. Of course he foresaw that it would be used to pursue him, and he intended to set her adrift, or disable her so that she would not be available for use against him. I saw him put his shoulder to her stem, and attempt to push her off. I concluded from this that he intended to tow the Belle out into the middle of the lake, and leave her there, or possibly scuttle her.

He made a desperate effort to shove her off the ground, but without success. Tom and I had hauled her nearly out of the water, and she was too heavy to be launched again by one person. I fancied that the fellow swore some in his disappointment, and I congratulated myself upon the happy thought which had induced me to haul her so far out of the water. I wondered what the fellow would do next, for I could not believe he would leave while the Belle was in condition to pursue him. I was curious to know what he would do next; but I was already blaming myself for staying so long in the tree, and I descended. Before Tom and the sheriff could reach me, I was running with all my might towards the zigzag path.

I soon reached a point where I could see the operations of the robber again, which had been hidden from me after I descended the tree. He was running from the Belle to the Raven. In his hand he carried the travelling-bag, which he appeared not to leave behind him for a single instant. But then, to my intense mortification, if not horror, I saw a dense smoke rising from the cuddy of the Belle.

The villain had set her on fire!

Tom kept a supply of shavings and light kindlings in the cook-room, and there was a tin match-box attached to the mast. The scoundrel had found everything convenient for the execution of his vile scheme, and the beautiful Belle was in imminent peril of being totally destroyed. I had reached the head of the zigzag path when I discovered the fire, and I was hopeful that I might be in season to extinguish it before the boat was entirely disabled. The robber leaped into the Raven, and pushed off with a celerity which seemed to insure his safety.

I rushed down the steep path to the shelf below. I wanted to do some desperate thing, for I was so vexed I could hardly contain myself. I had the revolver which Tom had given me in my hand, and I discharged it at the rascal in the Raven; but I might as well have fired at the moon, for the pistol would not carry half the distance. The robber took no notice of me, and did not even condescend to return my shot. He let out his sheet, and the Raven went off flying, with the fresh breeze nearly aft, and by the time I reached the gully, he was forty rods from the shore.

Though I had nearly exhausted my breath in running, I did not abate my speed till I reached the Belle. I leaped on board, and seized the bucket which was under one of the seats. I dashed several pailfuls of water into the cuddy, which put a quietus on the fire. The robber had simply lighted the shavings in the box which had been built in the head. Hardly more than two minutes had elapsed from the time the fire was set till I reached the Belle. The combustibles in the wood-box blazed furiously; but the fire was confined principally to them, though I found the ceiling and the under side of the deck planks were charred. With a bucket of water and a dipper, I put out every spark of fire.

I could not push the boat off alone, but I hoisted the sails, so that she would be ready to start as soon as Tom and the sheriff arrived. By the time they were coming down the path, I had rigged the pump, in order to remove the water I had thrown into her in putting out the fire, as soon as she was under way.

“Take hold here, Mr. Bradshaw!” I shouted, when the sheriff and Tom came within hail of me.

The official was puffing like a grampus, and he looked as thoroughly disgusted as a deputy sheriff could be. He put his shoulder to the bow of the Belle, and we shoved her off into the lake. Tom sprang on board, and took his accustomed seat at the helm. The officer was placed on the port side, and I took position at the pump which I had rigged for use, after I had shoved the boat clear of the shore. She filled away, and we started about a quarter of a mile behind the Raven. If there was any difference at all in the wind, it was stronger than it had been earlier in the morning, and this fact improved our chances.

I had made fast the sheets, so that for the present Tom had nothing to do but steer. He said nothing about his wound, but I could see that it gave him much pain, and I hoped I should be able to induce him to abandon the pursuit when we reached the other side of the lake, if the robber led us in that direction.

“This is a pretty kettle of fish,” said the sheriff, as soon as he had recovered his wind.

“I told you that fellow was smart,” replied Tom, with his gaze fixed steadfastly on the Raven.

“How in the world did he get back here without our seeing him?”

“We did not look where he was.”

“Where did you first see him, Wolf?” asked the officer.

“He was on the shore here, getting the Raven ready to be off. I shouldn’t have seen him if I hadn’t climbed a tree.”

“It was lucky you thought of that. But where was the fellow while we were beyond the cliff?”

“In my opinion he has not been fifty rods from the place where he landed,” I replied. “There are plenty of places among the rocks where he could hide. I think it is very likely he concealed himself in the gully, and as soon as he found we were at a safe distance from him, he concluded to cross the lake, where there is no one to pursue him.”

“He’s smart,” repeated Tom. “That will do, Wolf; don’t pump any more. You keep her wabbling so that she don’t do her best.”

“Let me take the helm, Tom,” I suggested. “I’m afraid you will make your arm worse.”

“No, I thank you. I can get as much out of the Belle as anybody else; but you may stand by the sheets, if you like, for I can’t use my left arm very well.”

“Just as you say, Tom,” I answered, taking a seat by his side, where I could reach the sheets.

“Now keep still, and don’t move one of your little fingers,” said Tom. “I’ll give him some. If I don’t, the Belle isn’t a lady. Let out that jib-sheet about an inch and a half, Wolf.”

“All right,” I replied, obeying the order. “You are putting a fine point upon it, Tom.”

“I must have her just so when she does her best. Mr. Bradshaw, will you move forward about six inches? That’s it; now she is just as I want her. Don’t she spin!” exclaimed Tom.

“She is doing first rate, and so is the Raven.”

“Wait a bit till she gets out a little farther. She will have to duck under when she gets the full weight of the breeze. By the way, Wolf, is she burned much in forward? I didn’t stop to look in.”

“Very little. I think you can make her as good as new in half an hour,” I answered. “The robber spent some time trying to shove her off, before he thought of setting her on fire. I was just at the path when I saw the fire. It had not been burning more than two minutes when I threw on the first bucket of water.”

“Now she is getting it savage,” said Tom, as the wind drove the Raven down to her gunwale in the waves. “See that! He had to luff her up. He lost a little on that.”

Both boats had the wind on the quarter, and the Raven was leading the way directly across the lake to High Bluff, just below Priam. She was jumping up and down on the waves like a feather, and it was evident enough that she could not carry all sail. Her skipper had been obliged to luff her up so as to spill the mainsail, and then we saw that he had let his jib-sheet run out so that the head sail did not draw. As soon as the flaw had spent itself, he kept her away again, with the jib still shaking.

“It was a great mistake that the steamer went back,” said the sheriff. “If we only had her here, she would make short work of that boat.”

“Don’t say anything more about mistakes, Mr. Bradshaw,” replied Tom.

“Well, I think it was a mistake to let her return,” persisted the officer.

“If that steamer had been out here, the robber would have taken some other course. We have all made mistakes enough, but we have done the best we could, and it’s no use for the pot to call the kettle black.”

“Do you see what that fellow is up to now?” I interposed.

“I think I do,” replied Tom. “He sees the gully on the upper side of High Bluff, and, if I mistake not, he is going to run in there.”

“If he does, that will be his last blunder,” I replied.

“Why so?” inquired the sheriff, who was not familiar with the locality.

“He can run his boat into the gully on either side of the bluff; but he can no more climb up to the high land above than he can shin up a rainbow,” said Tom. “I only hope he will run in there.”

“He may find a way to get out of the gully,” I suggested.

“He can’t do it. It isn’t in the power of man to get up.”

“But you know there is a crooked path to the top.”

“That’s very true; but the path is just on the side of the lake, and you can’t reach it from the gully on either side. If he strikes the middle of High Bluff on the lake side, he can go up. If he runs into the gully, he can’t,” answered Tom.

The Raven was running directly towards High Bluff. If he did not know of the path to its summit, he would not be likely to suspect its existence from anything he could see; and we waited, with intense anxiety, to ascertain what course he intended to take.