The ill-fated _Industry_ drifted about upon the inclement lake, and was at last driven into a cove about Oak Orchard, N.Y. There a land pirate cut the ship up, and stole cables, anchors and shrouds. The following spring (1838), John Pickel and William Annis, at my father’s instance, went and found this freebooter, a worthless fellow, but married to a wealthy man’s daughter. Upon the claim being made, he was advised by legal men to settle it and thus avoid the penalty. Piracy in New York State is punishable by ten years’ State imprisonment. His father-in-law paid $1,100 for the man’s act, and that is all my father ever got for a ship valued at quite $8,000 at that day. Some years afterwards, when in Upper Canada a “Rebellion Losses’ Bill” was passed and became law, it was thought that the loss of this ship would come under the meaning of this Act. As a very young man I urged my father to put in his claim. “No, my son,” he said, “if I was fool enough to risk my ship and my life in the business of the rebellion in midwinter, I deserved to lose it.” No claim was ever put in for the lost ship. And even now, after the lapse of sixty-one years, I do not think it prudent to give the names of the passengers it carried on that eventful trip. All of them came back to Canada. Many were in high government positions afterwards. Had the Government of the day in Upper Canada then captured that ship and its precious cargo, it may be the map of Canada would be different to-day. I was in Botany Bay, Australia, and in Hobart, Tasmania, in 1896, when, fresh from reading the tales of Marcus Clark and Balderwood, I could not help thinking what untimely fate would have befallen the entire ship’s company had they been captured and transported. Many persons were so hard pressed by the military during the rebellion, even if not participants, that they fled in every way possible. One man, on November 15th, 1837, stole a dug-out pine canoe from my father, and deliberately paddled alone across Lake Ontario, fully sixty-five miles (see page 186). Leaving Port Oshawa at 10 p.m., and having a fine north breeze, he made Oak Orchard, due south, at 4 p.m. the next day. The prow of the canoe he had taken was rotted off, but the paddler, sitting in the stern with a stone between his feet, by his own and the stone’s combined weight succeeded in keeping the open end raised above the water. This necessarily added much to the perils of the voyage, it being perilous enough in the best of weather to paddle across the lake in an open boat.