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
Aroused by the glad tidings, that sent a thrill of joy through their
sinking hearts, they sprang forward, with the revivified energies which new
and suddenly-lighted hope will sometimes so strangely impart, and were soon
by the side of the exulting hunter; when together they rushed and
floundered along down the banks of the stream towards the place, in joyful
excitement at the thought that their troubles were now so nearly over, and
with visions of the comfortable quarters, warm fires, and smoking suppers,
which they confidently expected were awaiting them at camp, brightly
dancing before them. Joy and hope lent wings to their speed; and, in a
short time, they could discern the open place and the well-remembered
outlines of the locality where the camp was situated. But no bright light
greeted their expectant eyes. They were now at the spot, but, to their
utter consternation, no camp was to be seen! Could they be mistaken in the
place? No; there was the open path leading to the structure; there rose the
steep side of the hill; and there, at the foot of it, stood the
perpendicular rock against which it was erected! What could it mean? After
standing a moment in mute amazement, peering inquiringly at each other, in
the fading twilight, they started forward for the rock, and, in so doing,
came upon the two front posts, still standing up some feet out of the snow.
They were black and charred! The sad truth then flashed over their minds.
Their camp had been burnt to the ground, and with it, also, probably, their
rich collection of furs,--nearly the whole fruit of all the toils and
fatigues of their expedition! O death, death! what shall save the poor
trappers, now?
"Great God! I have had a presentiment of this," exclaimed Phillips, the
first to find utterance, in a voice trembling with unwonted emotion.
"How could it have happened?" and "Where is Gaut Gurley?" simultaneously
burst from the lips of the others.
"Well may you, ask those questions, and well couple them together, I
fancy," responded the hunter, with bitter significance. "But away with all
speculations about _that_, now. We have something that more nearly concerns
us to attend to, in this strait, than forming conjectures about the loss of
our property: our lives are at stake! If you will mind me, however, you may
all yet be saved."
"Direct us, direct us, and we will obey," eagerly responded one and all.
"Two of you follow me, then, for something dry, if we can find it, for a
fire, and the rest go to kicking away and treading down the snow under the
rock, with all your might!" sharply commanded the hunter, dashing his way
towards the thickets, with hatchet in hand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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