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THE PIONEERS.
79

"Who's dumb cattle!" echoed Benjamin, fiercely, turning his forbidding face to the glare of the light from the canoe, and exhibiting every feature teeming with the expression of his disgust. "If you want to come aft and cun the boat round, come and be damned, and a pretty steerage you'll make of it too. There's but another heave of the net in the stern-sheets, and we're clear of the thing. Give way, will ye? and shoot her ahead for a fathom or two, and if you catch me afloat again with such a horsemarine as yourself, why rate me a ship's jackass, that's all."

Probably encouraged by the prospect of a speedy termination to his labour, the wood-chopper resumed his oar, and, under the strong excitement of his feelings, gave a stroke with it, that not only cleared the boat of the net, but of the steward, at the same instant, also. Benjamin had stood on the little platform that held the seine, in the stern of the boat, and the violent whirl occasioned by the vigour of the wood-chopper's arm, completely destroyed his balance. The position of the lights rendered objects in the batteau distinguishable, both from the canoe and the shore; and the heavy fall on the water drew all eyes to the steward, as he lay struggling, for a moment, in sight.

A loud burst of merriment, to which the lungs of Kirby contributed no small part, broke out like a chorus of laughter, and rung along the eastern mountain, in echoes, until it died away in distant, mocking mirth, among the rocks and woods. The body of the steward was seen slowly to disappear, as was expected; but when the light waves, which had been raised by his fall, begun to sink in calmness, and the water finally closed over his head, unbroken and still, a very different feeling pervaded the spectators.