The Ram was steadily pursuing the Nattie ships now in full retreat. The wind blew up the channel. It would be a stern chase, which is always a long chase. Half the Pixie navy followed with the Ram; the other half had tacked across the lake toward the foot of the island, with the intention of sailing up the opposite channel, and thus heading off the Natties ere they reached the inlet. They had bold plans afoot, and thought to destroy the whole Brownie fleet. This manoeuvre had turned attention from the daring ride of Ensign Lawe. Yet the Ensign was not such a madcap as his countrymen declared him, nor such a fool as his foes supposed. He had seen at once that the masts and rigging usual to sailing vessels were wanting from this new craft; he could therefore approach a-horseback with comparative safety. That there must be some assailable point, some port-hole, some door, something penetrable he felt sure. "I will find my way to it," he said in his heart; "or at least find out where it is. I will uncover the secret power that works this destruction, or find out the monster's weak points and give knowledge of it to the Commodore." He had now reached the Ram. He swept above the prow. No opening there! He hovered over the deck. All hard and smooth there! He skimmed along the sides. No port-holes, no seams, no sign of break or opening there. He flew past the side, and hung in the air above the vessel's stern. A dart whistled by his face. He felt the vibrations of the air on his cheek. "Hah! There is an opening then in your solid shell? That dart came from some vent. Let us see!" He pressed his gallant nag closer to the Ram. His keen eye caught the varnished curtain that hung across the stern. He saw one side of it tremble and lift a little as he circled about it. The weak point in the sea monster was exposed! Hurrah! He would try the metal of a Brownie cutlass against that varnished curtain! If he could cut that open, the waves would rush into the hull, and the Ram would sink into the lake with the noble barks that it had destroyed. Lawe tightened his bridle reins as he thus meditated, and drew his cutlass. He dropped a little astern of the Ram, but well to the port side, so that he might sweep straight across the stern. He poised himself firmly, bent over in the saddle, and cried, "Go, my good nag!" Golden Rule, as his pony was named, sprang to the voice of his master as though conscious of what depended upon him. He passed across the stern of the Ram so closely that his wings almost touched it. Whi--rr--rr! The Ensign's sword ripped through the curtain, and Golden Rule shot by like an arrow. Quickly Lawe turned and swept back again on the same track. Again the blade cut through the curtain, with a downward stroke this time that laid open a vertical seam.