358 THOMAS A* THING. 



four Leven printers poaching flappers. They had lighted 

 a fire, and begun to cook some of their spoil. He rowed 

 to the other side of the island, and then, winding round, 

 got between them and their boat. He then cocked his 

 pistol, and, like another Robinson Crusoe, dashed, single- 

 handed, into the midst of the four. They all sprang to 

 their legs and ran different ways ; but Thomas, choosing 

 out the man who took the least direct line to their boat, 

 endeavoured to cut him off from his companions. The 

 fellow, however, had good wind, and by sundry doubles 

 managed to reach the shore where the boat was. But his 

 faithful allies, thinking it prudent to throw a sop to this 

 terrible Cerberus, had left their companion and pulled 

 away. The printer's heart now completely failed, so, 

 wading into the water, as the stag at bay, he awaited his pur- 

 suer's approach. Thomas, with his pistol still on full cock, 

 and carefully selecting the nearest point on the shore, took 

 deadly aim, and commanded him instantly to surrender. 

 The fellow, now fancying that death was staring him in 

 the face, fell down on his knees in the water, and begged 

 for mercy. This was granted him, on condition of imme- 

 diately shipping himself on board Thomas's craft. He 

 then uncocked and replaced his formidable weapon, which, 

 he afterwards told me, had never been loaded ! 



But it is only in calm clear weather that trespassers 

 have anything to fear from Thomases prowess. He has a 

 perfect horror of winds and waves, and would not trust his 

 " frail bark" upon the loch in a storm for any guerdon 

 that could be offered him. We had been after wild swans 



