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
With that ready obedience which a superior in energy and experience will
always command among his fellows, in emergencies like this, the men went to
work in earnest. In a short time the snow was cleared away or beat down
compactly over a space some yards in extent along the side of the rock,
while the others soon returned with a supply of the driest wood to be
found, together with an armfull of hemlock boughs, to strew over the beaten
snow. The next thing requiring their attention was the all-important object
of starting a fire. But in this they were doomed to sad disappointment.
Their punk-wood tinder had been so dampened by the snow sifting into their
coat-pockets, where they had deposited it, that it could not be made to
catch the sparks of the smitten steel. They then tried the flashing of
their guns; but they had no paper, and could find no dry leaves or fleecy
bark of the birch, and the finest splinters or shavings they could whittle,
in the dark, from the clefts of the imperfectly dry pine, would not take
fire from the light, evanescent flash of the powder in their pans. Again
and again did they renew the doubtful experiment; but every succeeding
trial, from the dampness of their material in the driving snow, and from
the unmanageable condition of their benumbed fingers and shivering frames,
became more and more hopeless, till at length they were compelled to
relinquish wholly the fruitless attempt.
"This is a calamity, indeed!" exclaimed the hunter. "I feared it might be
so from the first. Could we have foreseen the want, so as to have been on
the lookout for material coming along, or have got here before dark, it
might have been averted. But as it is, there is one resort left for us, if
we would live in this terrible wind and cold till morning, and that is, to
keep in constant and lively motion. Whoever lies down to sleep is a dead
man!"
But he found it difficult to impress on the minds of most of them his idea
of the danger of ceasing motion. They began to say they felt more
comfortable now, and, being very tired, must lay down to take a little
rest. Sharply forbidding the indulgence, the hunter sallied out, cut and
trimmed two or three green beech switches, and returned with them to his
wondering companions; when, finding Mark Elwood, in disregard of his
warning, already down and dozing on a bunch of boughs under the rock, he
sternly exclaimed:
"Up, there, in an instant!"
"O, let me lie," begged the unconsciously freezing man: "do let me lie a
little while. I am almost warm, now, but very, very sleepy," he added,
sinking away again into a doze.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account