"I shouldn't think, there was much danger," said Marco.
"No," said Forester, "there's very little danger. In using a gun, you
put yourself in a very little danger of a very great calamity. There's
very little probability that your gun would burst, or that you would
ever shoot accidentally any other person; - very little indeed. But if
the gun were to burst, and blow off one of your arms, or put out your
eyes, or if you were to shoot another boy, the calamity would be a
very terrible one. So we call it a great risk."
"It seems to be a small risk of a great calamity," said Marco.
"Yes," replied Forester, "but we call it a great risk. We call the
risk great, when either the evil which we are in danger of is great,
or when the chance of its befalling us is great. For example, if you
and I were to walk over that log which lies across the stream, we
should run a great risk; but that would be, not a small chance of a
great evil, but a great chance of a small evil. There would be a great
chance that we should fall off into the stream; but that would not be
much of an evil as we should only get ourselves wet."
[Illustration: The Risk]
"Let us go and try it," said Marco. "Not I," said Forester. "You may,
however, if you please. I am willing to have you take such a risk as
_that_, for your amusement."
Marco went to the log and walked back and forth across it, as
composedly as if it were a broad plank, lying upon the ground.
Finally, he hopped across it on one foot, to show Forester his
dexterity. Forester was surprised. He did not know how much skill in
such feats Marco had acquired by his gymnastics in New York.
After this, Forester and Marco clambered up some rocks on an elevated
summit, where they had a fine view of the village below them. They
could trace the river, winding through the valley, with the green
intervals on both sides of it. They could see the village and the
streets, with the spire of the meeting-house in the center. The
mill-pond was in full view also; and Marco's attention was attracted
by a boat, which he saw gliding over the surface of the water.
"O! there is a boat," said Marco.
"Yes," said Forester. "I have paddled over the water many a time in
her."
"How many oars does she pull?" asked Marco.
"Oars?" said Forester, "no oars; they use paddles."
"I wish they had some oars," said Marco, "and then I would get a crew
of boys, and teach them to manage a boat man-o'-war fashion."
"How do you know any thing about it?" asked Forester.
