"Nay, that is the only difficulty in believing the story,"rejoined the guide."It seems unreasonable to give an animal that lives in the water wings, which seemingly can be of no use to it.""And do you suppose that the fishes are such asses as to fly about under water, when they are once fairly fitted out with wings?""Nay, I know nothing of the matter; but that fish should fly in the air seems more contrary to natur' still, than that the'y should fly in their own element -- that in which they were born and brought up, as one might say.""So much for contracted ideas, Magnet.The fish fly out of water to run away from their enemies in the water;and there you see not only the fact, but the reason for it.""Then I suppose it must be true," said the guide quietly.
"How long are their flights?"
"Not quite as far as those of pigeons, perhaps; but far enough to make an offing.As for those squirrels of yours, we'll say no more about them, friend Pathfinder, as I sup-pose they were mentioned just as a make-weight to the fish, in favor of the woods.But what is this thing an-chored here under the hill?"
"That is the cutter of Jasper, uncle," said Mabel hur-riedly; "and a very pretty vessel I think it is.Its name, too, is the _Scud_.""Ay, it will do well enough for a lake, perhaps, but it's no great affair.The lad has got a standing bowsprit, and who ever saw a cutter with a standing bowsprit before?""But may there not be some good reason for it, on a lake like this, uncle?""Sure enough -- I must remember this is not the ocean, though it does look so much like it.""Ah, uncle! then Ontario does look like the ocean, after all?""In your eyes, I mean, and those of Pathfinder; not in the least in mine, Magnet.Now you might set me down out yonder, in the middle of this bit of a pond, and that, too, in the darkest night that ever fell from the heavens, and in the smallest canoe, and I could tell you it was only a lake.For that matter, the _Dorothy_" (the name of his vessel) "would find it out as quick as I could myself.Ido not believe that brig would make more than a couple of short stretches, at the most, before she would perceive the difference between Ontario and the old Atlantic.Ionce took her down into one of the large South American bays, and she behaved herself as awkwardly as a booby would in a church with the congregation in a hurry.And Jasper sails that boat? I must have a cruise with the lad, Magnet, before I quit you, just for the name of the thing.
It would never do to say I got in sight of this pond, and went away without taking a trip on it.""Well well, you needn't wait long for that," returned Pathfinder; "for the Sergeant is about to embark with a party to relieve a post among the Thousand Islands; and as I heard him say he intended that Mabel should go along, you can join the company too.""Is this true, Magnet?"
"I believe it is," returned the girl, a flush so imper-ceptible as to escape the observation of her companions glowing on her cheeks; "though I have had so little op-portunity to talk with my dear father that I am not quite certain.Here he comes, however, and you can inquire of himself."Notwithstanding his humble rank, there was something in the mien and character of Sergeant Dunham that com-manded respect: of a tall, imposing figure, grave and saturnine disposition, and accurate and precise in his acts and manner of thinking, even Cap, dogmatical and super-cilious as he usually was with landsmen, did not presume to take the same liberties with the old soldier as he did with his other friends.It was often remarked that Ser-geant Dunham received more true respect from Duncan of Lundie, the Scotch laird who commanded the post, than most of the subalterns; for experience and tried services were of quite as much value in the eyes of the veteran major as birth and money.While the Sergeant never even hoped to rise any higher, he so far respected himself and his present station as always to act in a way to command attention; and the habit of mixing so much with inferiors, whose passions and dispositions he felt it necessary to re-strain by distance and dignity, had so far colored his whole deportment, that few were altogether free from its influ-ence.While the captains treated him kindly and as an old comrade, the lieutenants seldom ventured to dissent from his military opinions; and the ensigns, it was remarked, actually manifested a species of respect that amounted to something very like deference.It is no wonder, then, that the announcement of Mabel put a sudden termina-tion to the singular dialogue we have just related, though it had been often observed that the Pathfinder was the only man on that frontier, beneath the condition of a gentleman, who presumed to treat the Sergeant at all as an equal, or even with the cordial familiarity of a friend.
"Good morrow, brother Cap," said the Sergeant giving the military salute, as he walked, in a grave, stately man-ner, on the bastion."My morning duty has made me seem forgetful of you and Mabel; but we have now an hour or two to spare, and to get acquainted.Do you not perceive, brother, a strong likeness on the girl to her we have so long lost?""Mabel is the image of her mother, Sergeant, as I have always said, with a little of your firmer figure; though, for that matter, the Caps were never wanting in spring and activity."Mabel cast a timid glance at the stern, rigid countenance of her father, of whom she had ever thought, as the warm-hearted dwell on the affection of their absent parents;and, as she saw that the muscles of his face were working, notwithstanding the stiffness and method of his manner, her very heart yearned to throw herself on his bosom and to weep at will.But he was so much colder in externals, so much more formal and distant than she had expected to find him, that she would not have dared to hazard the freedom, even had they been alone.
"You have taken a long and troublesome journey, brother, on my account; and we will try to make you com-fortable while you stay among us."
