CHAPTER XIV.

ETHAN TELLS OF THE "JUMPERS."

With the coming of the morning the little brass cannon in the camp on Pine Tree Island woke the echoes, and likewise the boys, who had not left their tent when Jock had gone forth to greet the sunrise. There was no sleep to be had, however, after the summons, and soon all, except Bob, were dressed and waiting for the coming of Ethan.

That worthy was soon discovered, though he and Tom came in the sailboat instead of the skiff which they used on ordinary occasions, and the sight recalled to Ben the "secret" which had been referred to on the preceding evening.

"What's to be done to-day, Jock?" inquired Bert, as he stopped to watch the approaching craft which was speeding swiftly toward them under the strong breeze.

"You'll have to wait till Ethan comes and tells us," answered Jock. "It's never safe to reckon without your host, you know."

Ethan and Tom soon landed, and questions of the future were soon ignored in the immediate prospect of breakfast. Bob also had to be aroused, and as that was a task which required the combined efforts of his friends, by the time it was successfully accomplished breakfast was waiting, and all speedily seated themselves before the rude little table.

"I'm thinkin'," said Ethan, "that it would be a good day for a trip down the river. The wind's good this mornin', and if you boys want to try it, I don't know as we'll find a better day."

"That's the thing," said Ben, enthusiastically. "How far down do you go, Ethan?"

"Oh, that'll depend," replied the boatman, who was usually as averse to giving a decided expression of his opinion as any lawyer might have been. "We can go as far as we want to, if not farther, and then if we haven't gone far enough we can go farther, I take it."

"Precisely," laughed Bert. "Thank you, Ethan."

"Ye haven't anything to thank me for," replied the boatman, soberly. "I was jest givin' you my opinion, that's all."

"That's what I was grateful for," said Bert. "Ethan, do the people down here ever laugh?"

"Laugh? I s'pose so. I don't jest know what ye mean."

"Oh, nothing much; but I've noticed how sober everybody was. We've seen a good many, but I don't believe I ever heard one of them give a real good hearty laugh. I didn't know but they'd forgotten how."

"I guess they don't spend no time grinnin', if that's what ye mean," replied Ethan, evidently stirred by the apparent reflection upon the people of the region. "I don't know as they have the regulation snicker some o' the city folks puts on. I've sometimes suspicioned that they put on that grin o' theirs first thing in the mornin', along with their clothes. They say, 'how de do,' 'how de do,' an' smile an' smile jest as if they'd got to do it, same's as they'd take a dose o' pickery. I don't see no sense in it, for my part."

"There's comes a big steamer!" exclaimed Ben, suddenly pointing up the river as he spoke. "Good-by, fellows! I'm off!"

"It's a liner," said Ethan, soberly, pausing to look at the boat, which was larger than any other on the St. Lawrence, and which was leaving a long trail of thick black smoke behind it as it approached.

"What's a liner?" inquired Bert.

"Don't ye know what a liner is? It's a line boat."

"But what is a line boat, Ethan?" persisted Bert.

"It's a boat that goes regularly to Montreal," said Tom. "That's what pa means. It gets along here purty early in the morning."

"What's that young un up to now?" exclaimed Ethan, abruptly. The boys all turned at his words, and saw that Ben had run down to the bank and launched one of the canoes. He leaped on board and, steadying himself carefully, was already paddling out upon the river as if he had gone to meet the huge steamer.

"He's goin' to take the breakers, the pesky little reptile," said Ethan, evidently annoyed by the recklessness of Ben. "I should think he'd had enough o' canoein' in rough water for one day."

Ben, however, was too far out by this time to be recalled; and as the boatman probably thought all attempts to summon him would be useless, he wisely held his peace and stood upon the bank with the boys watching the movements of the reckless lad. The great steamer came steadily and swiftly forward, and Ben almost as swiftly advanced to meet it. He was plying his paddle rapidly, and the canoe almost seemed to leap over the water. A long line of rolling waves were upturned by the steamer in its course, and stretched away like a furrow left by a ploughman.

Ben rested a moment as the great vessel came abreast of him and then, quickly dipping his paddle deep into the water, sent the light canoe straight for the tossing waves. No one on the bank spoke as they breathlessly watched their companion, and it was evident that they all expected to see him overturned in the boisterous water.

Soon Ben could be seen as he entered the wake of the steamer, the canoe was lifted high for a moment and then disappeared from sight. Again it rose and seemed almost to stand upright, but it rode the wave successfully and again went down into the trough of the sea. So up and down, tossed like a leaf on the stream, the little canoe held to its course, and it soon became apparent that Ben was master of the situation.

"He done it," remarked Ethan, forcefully if not grammatically, and a sigh of relief escaped from his companions as they perceived that Ben was safe.

Jock quickly turned, and the brass cannon belched forth its salute to the passing vessel. The delight of the boys was great when they saw a little cloud of steam shoot upward from the steamer and the heavy whistle acknowledged the salutation. Some of the passengers on the deck waved their handkerchiefs, and not to be outdone Bert seized the tablecloth from the table, from which the dishes already had been cleared, and waved it in response to the salutes from the deck.

There was another cloud of fluttering handkerchiefs waved at them from the deck, and then the great steamer passed on its way to the largest of Canadian cities.

Ben by this time had returned to the camp, and as he landed and lifted the canoe to its place on the bank, Ethan said sharply to him:--

"That was a foolish risk to take, boy. What did ye do it for?"

"Oh, I wanted to see how it seemed to take those breakers," was the reply. "Besides, I thought it was a good time to put my ability to the test."

"Ye haven't got no ability," replied Ethan, gruffly. "It was a foolish trick; and if ye'd been spilled and got drowned, I'd had the blame of it."

"I knew you were close by, Ethan," protested Ben. "I couldn't drown when you were in camp. I just had to do it, you see, for I wasn't going to let that canoe get the better of me. I'm going to learn how to manage one while I'm here if I get tipped over a dozen times."

"Ye ought to be careful, though," said Ethan, evidently mollified by Ben's words of praise. "I didn't believe a city fellow would have so much grit."

"You don't know us yet," replied Ben, with a laugh.

Ethan said nothing more, and at once gave his attention to fitting out the sailboat. This task was soon completed, and the eager boys at once took their places on board.

"Have you got everything we shall want?" inquired Jock, before they set sail.

"I don't know whether I've got everything ye want, but I've got everything ye need," said Ethan.

"Got those 'p'is'n things'?" inquired Ben, soberly.

"Yes, I've got the pies an' things," replied Ethan, shortly. "Now, if ye've got no further speeches to make, we'll cast off."

The boat was soon free from the dock, and, as the sail filled, it began to move swiftly over the river. There was a strong breeze, and aided by the swift current the boat drew rapidly away from the island. Ethan held the tiller, and when, after he had satisfied himself that nothing had been neglected, he at last took his seat, and gazed about him with a smile of contentment upon his sunburned face.

"This is something like it, boys!" exclaimed Ben, as he looked about him over the great river.

The wooded islands, the glistening waters of the river, the strong breeze, and, above all, the swift motion of the boat, lent an additional delight to those who were on board.

Camps, not unlike their own, were passed; cottages, on the piazzas of which groups of people could be seen; the beautiful St. Lawrence skiffs, in which were men starting forth on an errand like that which had taken our boys a few days before to Goose Bay, were noted, and all were enthusiastically greeted. Occasionally some beautiful steam-yacht would meet them on its way up the river, and in response to their hail would toot forth its salute. Altogether, the scene and experience were so novel and inspiring that the boys all felt the exhilaration, and their delight was unbounded.

"Do ye see that island over there?" inquired Ethan, pointing as he spoke to one which lay between them and the shore.

The boys all glanced in the direction, and then the boatman said, "They had a fracas there in the Civil War with the bounty jumpers."

"Bounty jumpers? What are they?" said Ben, innocently.

Ethan gave him a look which was almost one of contempt, and then said, "I thought you was goin' to college."

"I am," said Ben; "but I don't go because I know it all, but because I don't. If I knew as much as you do, Ethan, perhaps I shouldn't go."

"Ye don't know much for a fact," replied Ethan, soberly. "I s'pose ye'll be studyin' Latin and Greek and lots o' such 'tarnal nonsense when ye git there. If there was a six-year-old boy 'round here that didn't know what a bounty jumper was, I'd send him to the 'sylum, I would, for a fact. Have ye found out how many teeth a cow has on her upper jaw yet?"

"Not yet," laughed Ben, good-naturedly. "What's that got to do with bounty jumpers?"

"A bounty jumper," began Ethan, ignoring the question, "was a man what jumped his bounty."

"How far did he jump? What made him jump, anyway, Ethan?" said Bob.

"He jumped straight into Canada, and then he jumped back again."

"Was he any relation to the wise man who jumped into the bramble bush? Ever hear that story, Ethan? It's a good one. Jock knows it, and he'll tell it to you if you want him to," said Bob.

"Tell us about the bounty jumpers," interrupted Jock, quickly.

"Well," began Ethan, slowly, "you know, they was a-offerin' a bounty of a thousand dollars to every man who'd enlist."

"When?" interrupted Bob. "Was it during the War of 1812?"

"No. 'Twas in the secesh war, that's when it was."

"You weren't here when the War of 1812 broke out, were you, Ethan?" inquired Bob, soberly.

Ignoring the laugh which followed, Ethan went on: "They wanted men putty bad in the Civil War, and so they offered a thousand dollars to every one who'd enlist. Well, lots enlisted; and then, after they'd got their money, they'd leave the army and put straight for this river, and git over into Canada. Then they'd cross over the border somewhere, and enlist somewhere else, take another thousand dollars and light out for Canada again. 'Twas a payin' job in those days; paid better'n drivin' a horse-car down to the city. There were regular 'bounty brokers,' as they were called, to help these rascals, and finally the government sent some provost marshals up here to look out for these fellows, and one of the liveliest tilts happened right by that island.

"There was a camp o' the jumpers on that island, and they had come to be as bold as ye please. There was so many on 'em that they felt pretty secure like, and besides, the wife o' one o' the men lived in a little house right on the shore. She used to go to school with me an' your pa," he added, turning to Jock as he spoke, "and he'd know her name in a minute if I should tell ye what it was. Well, she used to come out and wave a white cloth at the camp, and then her husband, or some other fellow, would come ashore an' get what she cooked up for 'em.

"One of the marshals found out the trick an' he made up his mind he'd get some o' these fellows; so one day he came down to the house, and as he wasn't dressed up like a soldier, jest wore ordinary clothes like yours or mine," he explained as he glanced at the boys, not one of whom changed the expression upon his face as he was addressed, "and so, though the woman was pretty suspicious, she didn't think he was on the lookout. Pretty quick she went out o' the house and waved the cloth, for she probably thought the men were gettin' hungry, and then a boat left the camp, and when it came pretty close to the shore the marshal, who was a-peekin' out o' the window, saw the very man he wanted most of all--this woman's husband.

"He waited till the boat was close in, and then he rushed out and yelled to the man to give himself up, and to strengthen his argument pulled out a pistol. The man was scared like at first, but the woman wasn't a mite, an' she jest yelled out, 'Don't ye do it, Bill; don't ye do it.' At that the marshal began to make his pistol pop, an' he fired all six o' the cartridges, an' never once touched the man or the boat, either."

"Is every man hereabouts as good a shot as that?" drawled Bob.

"I'm thinkin' they shoot as well as they do anywhere," replied Ethan.

"Well, some o' the marshal's friends came up, an' they went into the house to make themselves to home. They waited all night, an' a neighbor came in an' told them the jumpers was fixin' to come ashore and shoot every one of 'em. Jest then they heard a drum an' fife over in the camp, and they fixed up the house to stand a siege. They barricaded the doors and windows, and waited for deserters, an' likewise for the mornin'.

"The mornin' came, but the jumpers didn't; an' as the camp was too strong to be attacked, the marshal an' his friends cleared out afore noon and left the region. But that scrape happened right over there by that island. I could tell ye a whole lot more o' stories o' the jumpers, but I've got to look out for this boat now, or ye'll all be goin' down to the bottom instead of down the river."

As Ethan spoke, he quickly rose and began to give some sharp directions to Tom. Apparently they were needed, for the boat was moving with wonderful speed now. As the boys looked over into the river they could see that the swiftness of the current had greatly increased. The waters ran like those in a mill-race, and it almost seemed as if the boat had been lifted by some unseen and mighty hand, and thrown forward with incredible swiftness. No one, save Ethan, spoke, and the white faces of the boys indicated that the alarm which they thought their boatman had displayed was shared by them all.