The Lake Gun [1]
"Wandering Jew." In vain did his eyes roam over the broad expanse of water; they could discover nothing to reward their search. There was an old man in the boat, of the name of Peter, who had passed his life on the Seneca, and to him was our traveler referred, as the person most likely to gratify his curiosity. Fuller (for so we shall call the stranger for the sake of convenience) was not slow to profit by this hint, and was soon in amicable relations with the tough, old, fresh-water mariner. A half-eagle opportunely bestowed opened all the stores of Peter's lore; and he professed himself ready to undertake a cruise, even, for the especial purpose of hunting up the "Jew."
{lustrum = a period of five years; half eagle = a U.S. gold coin worth $5.00}
"I haven't seen that ere crittur now"--Peter always spoke of the tree as if it had animal life--"these three years. We think he doesn't like the steamboats. The very last time I seed the old chap he was a-goin' up afore a smart norwester, and we was a-comin' down with the wind in our teeth, when I made out the 'Jew,' about a mile, or, at most, a mile and a half ahead of us, and right in our track. I remember that I said to myself, says I, 'Old fellow, we'll get a sight of your countenance this time.' I suppose you know, sir, that the 'Jew' has a face just like a human?"
"I did not know that; but what became of the tree?"
"Tree," answered Peter, shaking his head, "why, can't we cut a tree down in the woods, saw it and carve it as we will, and make it last a hundred years? What become of the tree, sir;--why, as soon as the 'Jew' saw we was a- comin' so straight upon him, what does the old chap do but shift his helm, and make for the west shore. You never seed a steamer leave sich a wake, or make sich time. If he went half a knot, he went twenty!"
This little episode rather shook Fuller's faith in Peter's accuracy; but it did not prevent his making an arrangement by which he and the old man were to take a cruise in quest of the tree, after having fruitlessly endeavored to discover in what part of the lake it was just then to be seen.
"Some folks pretend he's gone down," said Peter, in continuation of a discourse on the subject, as he flattened in the sheets of a very comfortable and rather spacious sailboat, on quitting the wharf of Geneva, "and will never come up ag'in. But they may just as well tell me that the sky is coming down, and that we may set about picking up the larks. That 'Jew' will no more sink than a well-corked bottle will sink."
{picking up the larks = "When the sky falls we shall catch larks" is an old proverb, meaning that an idea or suggestion is ridiculous}
This was the opinion of Peter. Fuller cared but little for it, though he still fancied he might make his companion useful in hunting up the object of his search. These two strangely-assorted companions cruised up and down the Seneca for a week, vainly endeavoring to find the "Wandering Jew." Various were the accounts they gleaned from the different boatmen. One had heard he was to be met with off this point; another, in that bay: all believed he might be found, though no one had seen him lately-- some said, in many years.
"He'll turn up," said Peter, positively, "or the Seneca would go down bows foremost. We shall light on the old chap when we least expect it."
It must be confessed that Peter had many sufficient reasons for entertaining these encouraging hopes. He was capitally fed, had very little more to do than to ease off, or flatten in a sheet, the boat being too large to be rowed; and cigars, and liquors of various sorts were pretty much at his command, for the obvious reason that they were under his care. In delivering his sentiments, however, Peter was reasonably honest, for he had the most implicit faith, not only in the existence of this "Jew," but in the beneficent influence of his visits. His presence was universally deemed a sign of good luck.
Fuller passed most of the nights in a comfortable bed, leaving Peter in the boat; sometimes asking for lodgings in a farm-house,
{lustrum = a period of five years; half eagle = a U.S. gold coin worth $5.00}
"I haven't seen that ere crittur now"--Peter always spoke of the tree as if it had animal life--"these three years. We think he doesn't like the steamboats. The very last time I seed the old chap he was a-goin' up afore a smart norwester, and we was a-comin' down with the wind in our teeth, when I made out the 'Jew,' about a mile, or, at most, a mile and a half ahead of us, and right in our track. I remember that I said to myself, says I, 'Old fellow, we'll get a sight of your countenance this time.' I suppose you know, sir, that the 'Jew' has a face just like a human?"
"I did not know that; but what became of the tree?"
"Tree," answered Peter, shaking his head, "why, can't we cut a tree down in the woods, saw it and carve it as we will, and make it last a hundred years? What become of the tree, sir;--why, as soon as the 'Jew' saw we was a- comin' so straight upon him, what does the old chap do but shift his helm, and make for the west shore. You never seed a steamer leave sich a wake, or make sich time. If he went half a knot, he went twenty!"
This little episode rather shook Fuller's faith in Peter's accuracy; but it did not prevent his making an arrangement by which he and the old man were to take a cruise in quest of the tree, after having fruitlessly endeavored to discover in what part of the lake it was just then to be seen.
"Some folks pretend he's gone down," said Peter, in continuation of a discourse on the subject, as he flattened in the sheets of a very comfortable and rather spacious sailboat, on quitting the wharf of Geneva, "and will never come up ag'in. But they may just as well tell me that the sky is coming down, and that we may set about picking up the larks. That 'Jew' will no more sink than a well-corked bottle will sink."
{picking up the larks = "When the sky falls we shall catch larks" is an old proverb, meaning that an idea or suggestion is ridiculous}
This was the opinion of Peter. Fuller cared but little for it, though he still fancied he might make his companion useful in hunting up the object of his search. These two strangely-assorted companions cruised up and down the Seneca for a week, vainly endeavoring to find the "Wandering Jew." Various were the accounts they gleaned from the different boatmen. One had heard he was to be met with off this point; another, in that bay: all believed he might be found, though no one had seen him lately-- some said, in many years.
"He'll turn up," said Peter, positively, "or the Seneca would go down bows foremost. We shall light on the old chap when we least expect it."
It must be confessed that Peter had many sufficient reasons for entertaining these encouraging hopes. He was capitally fed, had very little more to do than to ease off, or flatten in a sheet, the boat being too large to be rowed; and cigars, and liquors of various sorts were pretty much at his command, for the obvious reason that they were under his care. In delivering his sentiments, however, Peter was reasonably honest, for he had the most implicit faith, not only in the existence of this "Jew," but in the beneficent influence of his visits. His presence was universally deemed a sign of good luck.
Fuller passed most of the nights in a comfortable bed, leaving Peter in the boat; sometimes asking for lodgings in a farm-house,