“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.