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
To return to camp, take their cold and comfortless breakfast, and decide on
the now hard alternatives of remaining where they were, to await the event
of the storm, without provisions, and with their imperfect means of
protection from the rigor of the elements, or of starting off through the
cumbering snow beneath their feet, and the driving tempest above their
heads, with the hope of reaching head-quarters by land, before another
night should overtake them, was but the work of half an hour. To remain,
with the foretaste of the past and the prospects of the future, was a
thought so forbidding that none of them could for a moment entertain it;
and to set out to travel by land, with such prospects, over the mountains,
by the long, winding route on the eastern side of the lake,--which was the
only one left to them, and which could not be less than fifteen miles in
extent,--was a scarcely less forbidding alternative. But it must be
adopted. So, gathering in their steel traps and iron utensils, they buried
them all, except their lightest hatchet, under a log, that they should not
be encumbered with more weight than was absolutely necessary; snugly
packing up the few peltries they had taken since Gaut Gurley had been
round, and putting the scanty remains of their food into their pockets, for
a lunch on the way, they set forth on their formidable undertaking.
Led on and guided by the calm and resolute hunter,--who at different times
had been over the whole way, and in whose skill and discretion, as a
woodsman, for conducting them by the nearest and easiest route, they all
had undoubting confidence,--they vigorously made their way onwards through
the accumulating snows and natural obstructions of the forest; now
threading the thickets of the valleys; now skirting the sides of the hills;
now crossing deep ravines; and now climbing high mountains in their
toilsome march. And, though the storm seemed to rage more and more fiercely
with the advancing hours of the day,--whirling clouds of blinding snow in
their faces, hurling the decayed limbs and trunks of the older tenants of
the wood to the earth around them, in the fury of its blasts, and rattling
and creaking through the colliding branches of the writhing green trees, as
it swept over the wilderness,--yet, for all these difficulties of the way
and commotions of the elements, they faltered not, but continued to move
forward in stern and moody silence, hour after hour, in the footsteps of
their indomitable leader, until they reached the extreme eastern point of
the lake, where their destination required them to turn round it, in a
sharp angle to the west. Here, at the suggestion of their leader, who made
the encouraging announcement that the worst half of their journey was
accomplished, they made a halt, under the lee of a sheltering mountain, for
rest and refreshment. And, sitting down on a fallen tree, from whose
barkless trunk they brushed off the snow, they took out and commenced
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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