Southerly storms are of short duration generally, and there was not a cloud in the sky when Dory went out into the standing-room to survey the situation. A gentle breeze was blowing from the west, and the appearance of the lake and its surroundings was as beautiful as the dream of a maiden. It was Sunday morning: he had been cruising for three days on the lake, and he was anxious to get home. But his first desire was to ascertain what had become of the Sylph. She was not to be seen from his position in the boat.
Taking a large slice of ham in one hand, and a quantity of hard-bread in the other, he waded to the shore. From the highest ground, he surveyed the islands and the mainland to the northward and eastward without seeing any thing of the steamer. Walking to the hill in the south of the island, the first thing he discovered, when he got high enough to see over the top of it, was the Sylph. She was headed to the south-west; and Dory concluded that she had spent the night under the lee of Butler's Island, two miles north of Wood's Island. She was bound through the Gut, and in a few minutes she disappeared from the skipper's view.
To say that Dory was delighted with the results of his strategy, when he saw the Sylph going through the Eastern Cut of the Gut, would be to state the case very mildly. He sat on the summit of the hill, and ate his ham and hard-bread with entire satisfaction; and, when he had finished it, the steamer was no longer in sight.
He hastened back to the boat, where he ate another slice of ham, with the proper allowance of hard-bread. It was a luxury to be able to eat all he wanted, with no anxiety on his mind. He went to work to put the boat in order for the trip up the lake to Burlington. While he was overhauling her, he came to a bottle half full of whiskey. Possibly the other half of its contents had caused the upsetting of the Goldwing, the fault of which had been charged upon the boat. He emptied the bottle into the lake, and finished his work on board.
He hoisted the sails; and, getting in the anchor, he shoved the schooner off the beach. Going to the northward of the island, he found that he could just lay his course to the Gut. As the sun rose higher, the wind freshened; and he had an eight-knot breeze all the forenoon. His return was without incident; and as the first bells were ringing for church, he landed at Plattsburgh.