Gaut Gurley; Or, the Trappers of Umbagog: A Tale of Border LifeThompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
General
Gaut Gurley; Or, the Trappers of Umbagog: A Tale of Border Life
Thompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Maine -- Fiction; Trappers -- Fiction
On, after reaching and pushing off their now well-freighted canoe,
on,--along the extended coast-line of this wild lake, westward to the great
inlet, up the gently inflowing waters of that broad, cypress-lined stream,
to the Maguntic, and then, tacking eastward, around the borders of that
still wilder and more secluded lake,--on, on, they sped for hours, until
the ringing of the axe-fall, and the lively echo of human voices in the
woods, apprised them of their near approach to the spot which their
companions had selected, both for their night's rest and permanent
head-quarters for the season.
CHAPTER XIII.
"And now their hatchets, with resounding stroke,
Hew'd down the boscage that around them rose,
And the dry pine of brittle branches broke,
To yield them fuel for the night's repose;
The gathered heap an ample store bespoke.
They smite the steel: the tinder brightly glows,
And the fired match the kindled flames awoke,
And light upon night's seated darkness broke.
High branch'd the pines, and far the colonnade
Of tapering trunks stood glimmering through the glen;
So joyed the hunters in their lonely glade."
"Hurra! the stragglers have arrived!" exclaimed Codman, the first to notice
the hunter and Claud as they shot into the mouth of the small, quiet river,
on whose bank was busily progressing the work of the incipient encampment.
"Hurra for the arrival of the good ship Brag, Phillips, master; but where
is his black duck, with a big trout to its foot? Ah, ha! not forthcoming,
hey? Kuk-kuk-ke-oh-o!"
"Don't crow till you see what I have got, Mr. Trapper," replied the hunter,
running in his canoe by the sides of those of his companions on shore.
"Don't crow yet,--especially over the failure of what I didn't undertake:
you or Mr. Carvil was to furnish the big trout, you will recollect."
"That has been attended to by me, to the satisfaction of the company, I
rather think," remarked Carvil, now advancing towards the bank with the
rest. "Not only one big trout, but two more with it, was drawn in by my
method, on the way."
"O, accident, accident!" waggishly rejoined the trapper; "they were hooked
by mere accident. The fact is, the trouts are so thick in these lakes that
a hook and line can't be drawn such a distance through them without getting
into some of their mouths. But, allowing it otherwise, it don't cure but
half of your case, Mr. Hunter. Where is the black duck?"
"_Here_ is the black duck," responded the hunter, stepping ashore and
drawing his cub out from under some screening boughs in the bow of the
boat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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