“Will it be plentthier than this?—­Well, it’s enough to destroy human appetite, the sight of ’em!  I’d give the half joe I lost among them blackguards in Albany, at their Pauss, as they calls it, jist to let my sisther’s childer have their supper out of one of these flocks, such as they are, betther or no betther.  Och! its pleasant to think of them childer having their will, for once, on such a power of wild, savage bir-r-ds!”

Captain Willoughby smiled at this proof of naivete in his new domestic, and then led his wife back to the hut; if being time to make some fresh dispositions for the approaching movement.  By noon, it became apparent to those who were waiting such an event, that the lake was opening; and, about the same time, one of the hunters came in from a neighbouring mountain, and reported that he had seen clear water, as near their position as three or four miles.  By this time it was blowing fresh, and the wind, having a clear rake, drove up the honeycomb-looking sheet before it, as the scraper accumulates snow.  When the sun set, the whole north shore was white with piles of glittering icicles; while the bosom of the Otsego, no longer disturbed by the wind, resembled a placid mirror.

Early on the following morning, the whole party embarked.  There was no wind, and men were placed at the paddles and the oars.  Care was taken, on quitting the huts, to close their doors and shutters; for they were to be taverns to cover the heads of many a traveller, in the frequent journeys that were likely to be made, between the Knoll and the settlements.  These stations, then, were of the last importance, and a frontier-man always had the same regard for them, that the mountaineer of the Alps has for his “refuge.”

The passage down the Otsego was the easiest and most agreeable portion of the whole journey.  The day was pleasant, and the oarsmen vigorous, if not very skilful, rendering the movement rapid, and sufficiently direct.  But one drawback occurred to the prosperity of the voyage.  Among the labourers hired by the captain, was a Connecticut man, of the name of Joel Strides, between whom and the County Leitrim-man, there had early commenced a warfare of tricks and petty annoyances; a warfare that was perfectly defensive on the part of O’Hearn, who did little more, in the way of retort, than comment on the long, lank, shapeless figure, and meagre countenance of his enemy.  Joel had not been seen to smile, since he engaged with the captain; though three times had he laughed outright, and each time at the occurrence of some mishap to Michael O’Hearn the fruit of one of his own schemes of annoyance.