Gaut Gurley; Or, the Trappers of Umbagog: A Tale of Border LifeThompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
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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
Within the space of a minute the appearance of the quickly-catching blaze,
now seen leaping in a thousand dimly-sparkling tongues of flame, from layer
to layer and from, side to side, through the crevices of the loosely-packed
mass, gave proof that the whole pile was becoming thoroughly ignited. And
the next moment the cave, and the whole visible range of rocks above, were
lost to sight in the dense cloud of smoke that deeply wrapt and rolled over
them. Expecting every instant to hear the agonized cries of the victim, now
seemingly enfolded in the very embrace of the terrible element, calling
aloud for mercy and offering submission, the whole company, crowding the
gorge below, or peering over from the surrounding cliffs, climbed for the
purpose, stood for some time mute and appalled at the spectacle, and the
thought of the fearful issue it involved. No sound or sight, however,
except the crackling of the consuming fagots and the flaring sheet of the
ascending flames, greeted their expectant senses.
"Pretty much as I have long thought it would turn out, in the end," said
the trapper, the first to break the silence, as the fire was seen to be
slacking away, without any thing yet being heard from the dreaded inmate of
the cave. "His master is taking him off in a winding-sheet of smoke and
flame. I shouldn't be surprised at a clap of thunder or an earthquake to
wind up with."
"At any rate," observed another of the crowd, "he must be suffocated by
this time."
"Yes," responded a third, "dead, dead as a door-nail; so, there is an end
of the incarnate Beelzebub that we have known by the name of Gaut Gurley."
"I am not so clear about that," now interposed the hunter, who had stood
intently watching the varying aspects of the fire and smoke about the cave.
"I thought, myself, that this operation must put him on begging terms, if
any thing would; and the question is, whether it wouldn't now, before he
found himself in any danger of smothering. I don't understand it; but
stay,--what is that rising from the top of the rocks, some distance back
from the front of the den? Mr. Sheriff, do you see it?"
"See what, sir?"
"Why, that slender column of smoke rising gently out of the top of the
rocks, directly over the cave, and growing more visible every moment, as
the smoke from the fire down here in front becomes light and thin in the
clear blaze."
"I do see what appears, here, to be something of the kind not proceeding
directly from the fire;--yes, plainly, now. What does it mean, Mr.
Phillips?"
"It means that the rascal has a chimney to his house, or what, for his
safety, is the same. The rocks forming the top of the cavern are piled up
so loosely that the smoke rises through them almost as easy and natural as
from a chimney. He had nothing to do but to throw himself on the bottom, to
be out of its way, and breathe as good air as the best of us."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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