And now the hunter was to experience one of the most exciting of all the adventures of his chequered career. Scarcely was the ice away, and the mouth of the Dwina open to navigation, than one fine day in May there appeared a fleet of, seemingly, English and Dutch merchant vessels, which sailed in from sea and anchored off the island of Modiug. Suspecting nothing, a boat containing fifteen soldiers, acting as custom-house officials, made the usual visit to the foreign ships to collect the harbour dues, receive the reports of cargo, and go through the ordinary commercial formalities in connection with the port. These men did not return at once; and when night fell and they were still absent, the authorities were obliged to conclude that the Dutch or British skippers had proved too hospitable, and that the officials were still occupied in drinking the health of the first arrivals of the year. But in the middle of the night Boris, in his capacity of commissioner of the Tsar, was awakened from his sleep by a half-drowned, dripping person, who stated that he was one of those who had been sent on board the supposed English and Dutch merchantmen. He had swum ashore at Modiug, he said, having escaped from the cabin in which the company had been confined. But the rest were still on board, and likely to remain so; for the ships were not merchantmen but vessels of war, and their crews were not good Englishmen and Dutchmen but blackguardly Swedes, sailing under false colours in order to steal a march upon the forts and capture the city unawares as soon as the first glimmering of light should render such an enterprise possible. The man had climbed out, by the help of his companions, through the skylight, choosing his time when the sentry had his back turned, had crept to the side, let himself down by means of a rope, and swum to the island. There he found a boat, and got himself rowed quickly to the town; and here he was! The man added that he had overheard it said that three of the vessels would signal for a pilot in the morning, and sail into port; the remainder of the fleet were to wait where they were, in case of accidents, and would come on if required.
Boris made glad the heart of this dripping hero by rewarding him handsomely in money, and promising to mention his conduct to the Tsar at the first opportunity. Then the hunter sat down to think matters out, and the result of his cogitations was, first, a visit to the commandant of the fort, to whom he gave his instructions. After this Boris got himself ready for the further development of his plans, and took up his position in the pilot-house, whence a good view of the foreigners would be obtained as soon as it became light enough to see. Boris had concocted a delightful plot, and hugged himself with joy to think how the Tsar would roar with laughter when he told him of it, after its successful outcome. It did not occur to Boris that he ran about as good a chance of having his own throat cut as ever man deliberately set himself to run; but then Boris was a great believer in his own star, and would have laughed at the very idea of danger in his scheme.
When morning came, Boris soon observed the usual signal flying from the deceitful flag-ship's mainmast indicating that a pilot was required. Then he arrayed himself in an over-garment, which caused him to look as much like a pilot as any other man, stepped into the pilot-boat, and had himself conveyed on board the Swedish admiral's ship, to the great astonishment of the real pilot, who could not imagine why the Tsar's commissioner usurped his duties when he had plenty of his own to look after.
When Boris stepped aboard the frigate, the Swedish admiral did not pretend to be other than he really was, but roughly bade the "pilot" take the vessel into Archangel harbour. The pilot, simulating great fear and distress of mind, did as he was told—the frigate, followed by its two companions, sailing gallantly forward on a light wind direct for port.
But that deceitful pilot did not intend that those Swedish ships should ever reach the harbour save under the Russian flag, and before a mile of water had been covered they were all three suddenly brought up by running straight upon a sandbank which jutted out from the island of Modiug. When the admiral and the rest of the Swedish gentlemen who happened to be on deck at the moment of the catastrophe had picked themselves up from the undignified attitudes into which they had been thrown by the shock, they learned two extremely unpleasant things. One was that their pilot had left them the legacy of his topcoat, and had taken a neat header into the water, whence he was now addressing certain remarks to them in the English language, remarks of a valedictory nature, coupled with flattering expressions of the hope that he would soon have the pleasure of meeting them again on shore; and the other that the forts were in the act of opening fire upon them as they lay helpless and immovable upon the sandbank.
Within half a minute of the first discovery a dozen furious Swedes had snatched their muskets, and a dozen Swedish bullets whistled through the air and sent up little fountains of spray as they struck the water somewhere near the spot where the head of that pilot had last appeared. But the head was no longer there. When it appeared again it did so in a direction where it was not expected; and though the bullets sought it once more, they did not find it. The furious Swedes even went so far as to train a gun upon the vanishing black spot, and banged away merrily at it with musket and cannon as long as it was in sight, but never went within several yards of the mark; for Boris dived so deftly and dodged so cunningly that he invariably had plenty of time to fill his lungs before he was seen and shot at.
Meanwhile the fort blazed away at the stranded ships, with such success that these soon hauled down their colours; after which a party of Russians from the fort put off in boats to take possession, picking up the swimming pilot on their way. Once on board, the Russians turned the ships' guns upon the four remaining Swedish vessels and quickly drove them from their moorings.
Boris was not mistaken as to the Tsar's delight upon hearing of his exploit. Peter wrote him an affectionate and appreciative letter, in which he congratulated him on his out-foxing the old Swedish reynard, presented him with a gratuity of two thousand roubles, and gave him a commission in the navy. Peter himself was at this time a boatswain in the same service, having risen, some say, from the humble position of cabin-boy, in which capacity he had insisted upon entering the navy in order that he might experience the duties of every grade of both branches of the service.