Camping on the St. Lawrence; Or, On the Trail of the Early Discoverers

by Everett T. Tomlinson

“First they had seized the money on board and such valuables as they could find, you may be sure.

“Of course there was a great stir then in the country. This Bill Johnston I mentioned a little while ago was one of the leaders, and both the Canadian governments and our own offered big rewards for him and the other men. I believe Governor Marcy placed the reward for the arrest of Johnston at $500 and $250 was offered for some of the others, while some were thought to be worth only $100 each. The Earl of Durham did better still, for he promised to give £1000 for the conviction of any of the parties engaged in the outrage. Some of them were arrested and tried over at Watertown, but it was almost impossible to convict them, and the jury brought in a verdict of ‘not guilty.’”

“Was Johnston captured then?” inquired Jock.

“He was captured, but not then. He was taken later, but not until some other stirring events had occurred, and even then it didn’t do much good. But I’ll have to reserve the other parts of the story of the St. Lawrence pirates until your next visit, for if I’m going to take you back to camp, we must be starting.”

When the boys went down to the dock they found that the girls also were to accompany them. Ben’s canoe was taken on board, and then the party started on one of the most enjoyable experiences on the great river—a moonlight sail among the islands.

The time passed rapidly, and when they came out into the channel near their camp they discovered one of the great river steamers before them. To the eager request of Miss Bessie “to take the breakers,” Mr. Clarke reluctantly consented, and the little yacht was headed for the waves which could be seen in the wake of the steamer.

The conversation ceased as the yacht approached. Ben had taken his seat in the bow, and the girls were huddled together amidships, half dreading and yet eager for the exciting experience.

Nearer and nearer came the little craft, and soon it was lifted high on the crest of the waves. Down it went into the trough of the sea and rose again as the swell lifted it. On the third attempt, however, it failed to respond as promptly as it had done before, and instead of rising on the crest of the billow it struck it fairly in the midst, and in a moment a great flood of water fell upon the yacht and swept over its entire length.