Barton and Ralph both had extensively "good luck," and the boat began to be loaded with the fish they had taken. Ichabod, who for some time had watched their operations with much interest, had, of late, become silent, and seemed to pay little or no attention to the sport. His first failure, and the success of the others, had disconcerted him somewhat; and his want of luck began to make him think he was engaged in rather dull business.
At an interval of cessation in their sport, which had now become a little like labor, Ralph turned to Ichabod, and said,
"How now, Ichabod – did that pickerel run away with your spirits? Wake up, man; what are you dreaming about?"
"Confound the varmints!" exclaimed Ichabod. "The pervarse cree'turs ain't worth talking about, to say nothing about skirmishing here half a day after 'em. Give me a chance at them deer yonder in the woods, or the wolves I've heered of round here, and we'd have something to talk about, I tell you."
"Well we'll give you a chance," said Barton laughing; "you shall have an opportunity to triumph in your own field. You don't like pickerel-fishing, then?"
"Pickerel-fishing," replied Ichabod gravely; "may be good sport for them as likes it, and have a cunning that way; but you see, I don't look upon it as a reg'lar large business any way. Give me the sports one can unite with business. Now you see, the man that's a good shot on a deer, may be jist as good a shot, providing he has steady nerves, on an Injin; but you can't catch Senecas or Onondagas with this kind of bait. No, I don't like it, Squire." And Ichabod drew back into his former position of listlessness.
"I say, Squire," said he, in a moment, with a twinkle of his eyes, as if he had hit upon a happy idea. "I say, Squire, there's one way you might make this pond profitable. This wasn't put here merely to grow these cussed varmints in. Things has their uses; and the uses of this body of water isn't to cover fish spawn, as any man can see with half an eye.
"Well, Ichabod, any more factory projects?" asked Barton with an attempt at composure.
"There isn't anything to laugh at in that idea," said Ichabod. "You haven't thought of it as much as I have. But I tell you, Squire, you might jist as well build up this country here, and make your own spec. out of it, as to allow some body else to come in here, and do it; for 'twill be done, I tell you. A country like this can't be kept out of all its advantages a great while, any way. Now, you see, this pond, Squire, providing – I say, providing– you can get a proper fall of water from it, as I reckon you can, would make a great chance for a mill privilege, or something of that sort; and you see, Squire, if that could be done, you'd have a supply of water here, that – Creation, what have I got hold on?" and Ichabod commenced tugging violently at his line; for he evidently had caught something that offered much more than ordinary resistance to his efforts. His struggles attracted the attention of both Barton and Ralph, who came to offer him any assistance that might be necessary.
"Slow! steady!" said Barton.
"Yes, yes," shouted Ichabod: "I'll have him now. Ah! here he comes – ugh! what in creation – " and in his astonishment he dropped his line, which began to make off rapidly from the boat.
"A turtle!" exclaimed Barton, "a mud-turtle!" seizing the line, and pulling in the turtle, which would weigh eight or ten pounds. "You have triumphed at last, Jenkins. Nobody else has caught a turtle to-day – and so large a one, too. It is a real victory – another Saratoga," and he laughed so heartily that Ichabod showed some symptoms of getting angry.
"Con-found the victory, Squire," said he, "I'll tell you what, Squire, I don't handle them traps any more. If you want to see slaughter among your bears and wolves, bring 'em on: but I've got through with this cussed business, any how."
"But, without jesting, Jenkins," said Barton, "that turtle is worth more for eating than all the fish we've got here – their meat is delicious; and I prize them highly."
"If that's so, Squire," said Ichabod, "you're entirely welcome to it. The varmint! I've seen 'em down in the settlements: but I never heerd of eating 'em, before; I'd feed 'em to Senecas."
"They would be very thankful for them," said Barton. "It isn't every day they get a turtle like this."
The lines were all taken in, and as they were now sufficiently wearied, the boat was paddled towards the shore, where Sambo was waiting to receive the fish.
"Golly!" said the negro, grinning "who caught dis ere fellar? he! he! he!" pointing towards the turtle.
"I caught that varmint!" replied Ichabod, gravely.
"Guess massa Jenkins let he bait die," said Sambo. "Dose fellars don't bite like pickerel, no how. How massa Jenkins manage?"
"Manage! you black devil," said Ichabod, angrily, "I'll feed you to him, if you ask any more questions."
Ralph and Barton were very much amused at Ichabod's discomfiture, which did not at all pacify him; but the party proceeded towards the cottage, Sambo being careful to keep out of Ichabod's way; but many were the grins which he made at his expense, behind his back. Ichabod gave up the idea of ever being a fisherman; but, as he seemed to be extremely sensitive on that subject, neither Ralph nor Barton saw fit to make any particular allusion to it.
CHAPTER V
"We rustled through the leaves like wind,
Left shrubs, and trees, and wolves behind;
By night I heard them on the track,
Their whoop came hard upon our back,
With their long gallop, which can tire
The hound's deep hate and hunter's fire."
It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, when they returned to the cottage; and as the sun had again made its appearance, and there were no indications of unpleasant weather. Ralph proposed to Miss Barton that they should put in execution a project which she had mentioned, of taking a ride on horseback down the valley.
The horses were at once brought out, by the negro. They were kept for working horses by Barton; but they had sufficient life and activity to make an excursion in that mode pleasant and agreeable.
Sambo, who was very much attached to his mistress, took the liberty of cautioning her to be home again by nightfall, and muttered something about "strange Injins" and wolves. Barton smiled at the fears of the negro; but at the same time intimated that any possible danger might be avoided by an early return.
"As for Indians," said he, "I haven't known many around here lately, and they are all of the friendly sort. The King's Indians, as they are called, have not been here, as I have known, since I have resided here. As for wolves, they are sometimes dangerous, in winter; I have heard of them pursuing people, at that season of the year, when they are particularly voracious; but I never heard of such an instance so early in the season – although it is possible that it might occur. But Ruth knows the country," continued he, "and will know how to avoid any dangers that are incident to it."
"I shall place myself wholly under the control of Miss