There was a roar of laughter from the crowd of raftsmen, and Hugh smiled, his good humour once more restored. "Oh, in that case it's different, but that's a single exception," said Professor Bill, in some humiliation. "No single exception. Suppose ye had a raft tied up above the island or down under the hill, would ye run on a rising or wait for a falling flood?" "I would most assuredly wait for a falling flood, and--" The school-master was interrupted by a chuckle from Hugh, and broad grins from his assembled men. "I've no doubt that ye would, but you'd find your raft a-scattered all the way twixt here and Pittsburgh. Why, mon, there's ne'er a hawser made that can hold a raft in those positions in a rising flood. 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'" Professor Bill Banks, or Professor Bill, as he was commonly known, was silenced. The last remark and the quotation from Shakespeare had put him to rout. He flushed and kept his eyes on the fire. The raftsmen were delighted. There was nothing they enjoyed so much as a tiff between Bill and their pilot. Professor Bill was the most learned man of the neighbourhood. Since the exodus of the Reverend Burg he had held the pre-eminence. He was the leader, and there was none to dispute with him with any fair show of success except Hugh, the pilot. Hugh had invariably come off second; here he had achieved first honours. Hugh was well read in a number of subjects, but his knowledge was only such as he could find by perusing history, in which indeed he was a fair scholar, and the topics of the day. "Was stuck, Hugh?" asked the tavern keeper, with some new measure of respect. "Aye, yesterday the creek was full of floating timber and we stuck on a sand bar. There were no rafts behind to shove us off and we had to wait for a greater flood. We wouldn't have stuck if Tom, there, hadn't lost his head." Tom, a great hulking fellow, looked a trifle sheepish. "You see," continued Hugh Lark, "I was up at the crosscut and in making the bend, I was just gitting the raft pinted when he was afraid we'd strike and tear up. He bellowed like a bull, 'We'll strike, we'll tear up, some un run out a rope and tie up.'" "It war pretty nigh striking, though," muttered Tom, in some apology.