replied Ben, with more energy than he had before manifested, for he was recovering from the perturbation with which the crime he had committed filled his mind.

"There is a factory village, with a dam across the river, six or seven miles below here."

"I know it; but perhaps we can get the boat round the dam in the night time, and continue our voyage below. Don't you remember that piece in the Reader about John Ledyard--how he went down the Connecticut River in a canoe?"

"Yes; and you got your idea from that?"

"I did; and I mean to have a first rate time of it."

Ben proceeded to describe the antic.i.p.ated pleasures of the river voyage, as he munched his bread and cheese; and Harry listened with a great deal of satisfaction. Running away was not such a terrible thing, after all. It was both business and pleasure, and his imagination was much inflated by the brilliant prospect before him.

There was something so novel and exciting in the affair, that his first experience was of the most delightful character.

He forgot the crime his companion had committed, and had almost come to regard the burning of the squire's barn as a just and proper retribution upon him for conspiring against the rights and privileges of young America.

My young readers may not know how easy it is even for a good boy to learn to love the companionship of those who are vicious, and disposed to take the road which leads down to moral ruin and death. Those lines of Pope, which are familiar to almost every school boy, convey a great truth, and a thrilling warning to those who first find themselves taking pleasure in the society of wicked men, or wicked boys:

"Vice is a monster of so frightful mien As to be hated, needs but to be seen; But seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace."

Now, I have not represented my hero, at this stage of the story, as a very good boy, and it did not require much time to familiarize him with the wickedness which was in Ben's heart, and which he did not take any pains to conceal. The transition from enduring to pitying and from that to embracing was sudden and easy, if, indeed, there was any middle pa.s.sage between the first and last stage.

I am sorry to say that an hour's fellowship with Ben, under the exciting circ.u.mstances in which we find them, had led him to think Ben a very good fellow, notwithstanding the crime he had committed. I shall do my young reader the justice to believe he hopes Harry will be a better boy, and obtain higher and n.o.bler views of duty. It must be remembered that Harry had never learned to "love G.o.d and man" on the knee of an affectionate mother. He had long ago forgotten the little prayers she had taught him, and none were said at the poorhouse. We are sorry he was no better; but when we consider under what influences he had been brought up, it is not strange that he was not a good boy.

Above every earthly good, we may be thankful for the blessing of a good home, where we have been taught our duty to G.o.d, to our fellow-beings, and to ourselves.

The young navigators talked lightly of the present and the future, as the boat floated gently along through the gloomy forest. They heard the Redfield clock strike twelve, and then one. The excitement had begun to die out. Harry yawned, for he missed his accustomed sleep, and felt that a few hours' rest in his bed at the poorhouse was even preferable to navigating the river at midnight. Ben gaped several times, and the fun was really getting very stale.

Those "who go down to the sea in ships," or navigate the river in boats, must keep their eyes open. It will never do to slumber at the helm; and Harry soon had a practical demonstration of the truth of the proposition. He was so sleepy that he could not possibly keep his eyes open; and Ben, not having the care of the helm, had actually dropped off, and was bowing as politely as a French dancing master to his companion in the stern. They were a couple of smart sailors, and needed a little wholesome discipline to teach them the duty of those who are on the watch.

The needed lesson was soon administered; for just as Ben was making one of his lowest bows in his semi-conscious condition, the bow of the boat ran upon a concealed rock, which caused her to keel over to one side, and very gently pitch the sleeper into the river.

Of course, this catastrophe brought the commander of the expedition to his senses, and roused the helmsman to a sense of his own delinquency, though it is clear that, as there were no lighthouses on the banks of the river, and the intricacies of the channel had never been defined and charted for the benefit of the adventurous navigator, no human forethought could have provided against the accident.

Harry put the boat about, and a.s.sisted his dripping shipmate on board again. The ducking he had received did not operate very favorably upon Ben's temper, and he roundly reproached his companion for his carelessness. The steersman replied with becoming spirit to this groundless charge, telling him he had better keep his eyes open the rest of the night. Wet and chilly as he was, Ben couldn't help growling; and both evidently realized that the affair was not half as romantic as they had adjudged it to be an hour or two before.

"Never mind it, Ben. If we fail once let us try again--that's all."

"Try again? You want to drown me, don't you?" snarled Ben.

Harry a.s.sured him he did not, and called his attention to the sound of dashing waters, which could now be plainly heard. They were approaching the rocks, and it was certain from the noise that difficult navigation was before them. Harry proposed to haul up by the river's side, and wait for daylight; to which proposition Ben, whose ardor was effectually cooled by the bath he had received, readily a.s.sented.

Accordingly they made fast the painter to a tree on the sh.o.r.e, and both of them disembarked. While Harry was gathering up a pile of dead leaves for a bed, Ben amused himself by wringing out his wet clothes.

"Suppose we make a fire, Harry?" suggested Ben; and it would certainly have been a great luxury to one in his damp condition.

"No; it will betray us," replied Harry, with alarm.

"Humph! It is easy enough for you to talk, who are warm and dry,"

growled Ben. "I am going to have a fire, anyhow."

In vain Harry protested. Ben had some matches in the boat, and in a few minutes a cheerful fire blazed in the forest. As the leader of the enterprise felt its glowing warmth his temper was sensibly impressed, and he even had the hardihood to laugh at his late misfortune. But Harry did not care just then whether his companion was pleasant or sour, for he had stretched himself on his bed of leaves, and was in a fair way to forget the trials and hardships of the voyage in the deep sleep which makes it "all night" with a tired boy.

After Ben was thoroughly dried and warmed, he placed himself by the side of his fellow-voyager, and both journeyed together through the quiet shades of dreamland, leaving no wakeful eye to watch over the interests of the expedition while they slumbered.

CHAPTER V

IN WHICH HARRY FIGHTS A HARD BATTLE, AND IS DEFEATED

The sun was high in the heavens when the tired boatmen awoke.

Unaccustomed as they were to fatigue and late hours, they had been completely overcome by the exertion and exposure of the previous night. Harry was the first to recover his lost senses; and when he opened his eyes, everything looked odd and strange to him. It was not the rough, but neat and comfortable little room in the poorhouse which greeted his dawning consciousness; it was the old forest and the dashing river. He did not feel quite at home; the affair had been divested of its air of romance, and he felt more like a runaway boy than the hero of a fairy tale.

"Hallo, Ben!" shouted he, to his sleeping companion.

Ben growled once, and then rolled over, as if angry at being disturbed.

"Ben! We shall be caught if you don't wake up. There, the clock is striking eight!" and to give Ben a better idea of where he was, he administered a smart kick in the region of the ribs.

"What are you about?" snarled Ben, springing to his feet with clinched fists.

"Time we were moving. Don't you see how high the sun is? The clock has just struck eight."

"No matter for that. We are just as safe here as anywhere else. You kick me again, and see where you will be!"

"Come, come, Ben; don't get mad."

"Don't kick me, then."

"What are you going to do now?"

"That's my business. You do what I tell you, that's all you have to do with it," replied Ben, imperiously, as he walked to the bank of the river to survey the difficulties of the navigation.

"_Is_ it?" asked Harry, not particularly pleased with this interpretation of their relations.

"You better believe it is."

"I don't believe anything of the kind. I ain't your n.i.g.g.e.r, anyhow!"

added Harry, with spirit.

"I'll bet you are."

"I'll bet I ain't."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I'll let you know what I am going to do."

"If you don't mind what I tell you, I'll wallop you on the spot."