turn up," said Peter, positively, "or the Seneca would go down
bows foremost. We shall light on the old chap when we least expect it."

It must be confessed that Peter had many sufficient reasons for
entertaining these encouraging hopes. He was capitally fed, had very
little more to do than to ease off, or flatten in a sheet, the boat
being too large to be rowed; and cigars, and liquors of various sorts
were pretty much at his command, for the obvious reason that they were
under his care. In delivering his sentiments, however, Peter was
reasonably honest, for he had the most implicit faith, not only in the
existence of this "Jew," but in the beneficent influence of his visits.
His presence was universally deemed a sign of good luck.

Fuller passed most of the nights in a comfortable bed, leaving Peter in
the boat; sometimes asking for lodgings in a farm-house, and, at
others, obtaining them in an inn. Wherever he might be, he inquired
about the "Wandering Jew" and the "Lake Gun," bent on solving these two
difficult problems, if possible, and always with the same success. Most
persons had seen the former, but not lately; while about one in ten had
heard the latter. It occurred to our traveler that more of the last
were to be found nearer to the northern than to the southern end of the
lake.

The cruise continued a fortnight in this desultory manner, with the
same want of success. One morning, as Fuller was returning to the boat,
after passing the night in a farm-house, he was struck by the
statue-like appearance of a figure which stood on the extreme point of
a low, rocky promontory, that was considerably aside from any dwelling
or building. The place was just at the commencement of the hill
country, and where the shores of the Seneca cease to offer those
smiling pictures of successful husbandry that so much abound farther
north. A somber, or it might be better to say a sober, aspect gave
dignity to the landscape, which, if not actually grand, had, at least,
most of the elements that characterize the noble in nature.

But Fuller, at the moment, was less struck with the scenery, charming
as that certainly was, than with the statue-like and immovable form on
the little promontory. A single tree shaded the spot where the stranger
stood, but it cast its shadows toward the west, at that early hour,
leaving the erect and chiseled form in clear sun-light. Stimulated by
curiosity, and hoping to learn something that might aid