Haste and Waste; Or, the Young Pilot of Lake Champlain. A Story for Young PeopleOptic, Oliver
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Haste and Waste; Or, the Young Pilot of Lake Champlain. A Story for Young People
Optic, Oliver
Steamboats -- Juvenile fiction
"They'll find I'm not a nobody," whined he. "She'll go down in the
deep water this time."
The drunken villain then stumbled about the deck till he found the
lines which kept the hogsheads in place under the guards. Groaning,
crying, and swearing, he untied and threw the ropes overboard. Some
of the casks, relieved of the pressure on them by the removal of the
water from the interior of the hull, came out from their places and
floated off. Ben rolled into the wherry again, and with the boat-hook
hauled the others out. Satisfied that he had done his work, and that
the _Woodville_ would soon go down in the middle of the lake, he
pulled as rapidly as his intoxicated condition would permit toward
the ferry-landing.
"They'll find I'm not a nobody," he repeated, as he rowed to the
shore. "They can't raise her now; and they'll never see her again."
Intoxicated as he was, he had not lost his sense of caution. He knew
that he had done a mean and wicked action, which it might be
necessary for him to conceal. As he approached the landing, he wiped
his eyes, and choked down the emotions that agitated him. He tried to
make no noise, but his movements were very uncertain; he tumbled over
the thwarts, and rattled the oars, so that, if those in the cottage
had not slept like rocks, they must have heard him. He reeled up to
the house, took off his shoes, and crept upstairs to his room. He
made noise enough to wake his mother; but Lawry and Ethan were not
disturbed.
The wretch had accomplished his work. He was satisfied, as he laid
his boozy head upon the pillow, that the _Woodville_ was even
then at the bottom of the lake, with a hundred feet of water rolling
over her. It was two o'clock in the morning; but the vile tipple he
had drank, and the deed he had done, so excited him that he could not
sleep. He tossed on his bed till the day dawned, and the blessed
light streamed in at the window of the attic.
"Four o'clock!" shouted Lawry, as the timepiece in the kitchen
struck the hour. "All hands ahoy, Ethan!"
His enthusiastic fellow laborer needed no second call, and leaped
out of bed. Ben was still awake, and the lapse of the hours had in
some measure sobered him.
"It's a fine day, Ethan," said Lawry.
"Glad of that. How long do you suppose it will take to pump her out?"
"All day, I think; but we are to have four men to help us. I was
considering that matter when I went to sleep last night," replied
Lawry. "I was thinking whether we could not rig a barrel under the
derrick so as to get along a little faster than the pumps will do it.
"Perhaps we can; we will see."
"Where is your steamer?" asked Ben, rising in bed.
"We anchored her near the Goblins," replied Lawry.
"She isn't there now," added Ben.
"How do you know?" demanded the pilot.
"I've been sick, and couldn't sleep; so I got up and went outdoors.
She isn't where you left her, and I couldn't see anything of her
anywhere."
"Couldn't see her!" exclaimed Ethan.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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