Читать книгу The Ark of 1803. A Story of Louisiana Purchase Times онлайн

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Marion Royce was the first to reach the fire. The flames were at their height, waving long streamers above the treetops so that their light could be seen for ten miles down the river, and settlers farther down thought that Marietta was burning.

“What could have started it?” asked the captain, as he and Jonas came up from the creek with a hogshead nearly filled between them.

“I can’t imagine,” said the shipbuilder. “The Indians would rather have stolen the stuff than burnt it up, and no one round hereabouts has any grudge agin’ the ark.”

“You didn’t see anyone?” asked the captain.

“No one but Jimmy Claiborne,” answered Jonas. “Just as I came into the clearing I saw him runnin’ for dear life along the road to the Ayreses, to get help, I reckon, and that’s why I didn’t lose any time carryin’ the alarm. I knew he’d take it.”

“Jimmy Claiborne!” echoed the captain. A thought flashed into his mind, but he refused to consider it.

“I wonder if we couldn’t slide the blocks out from under her and let her drop down the ways,” he said. “She’s beginning to burn here at the bow, from the heat. We can’t keep her from burning. The ways are bound to go. Look, Jonas! Merciful goodness—Look out!”