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
The Indian then has his canoe fit for use; and he may well
boast of a boat, which, for combined strength and lightness, and especially
for capacity of burden, no art of the shipbuilder has ever been able to
surpass, and which, if it has not already, might serve for a model of the
best lifeboat ever constructed, in these days of boasted perfection in
marine arts and improvements.
Bounding over the smooth waters like a seabird half on wing, our voyagers
soon found themselves on the northerly side of the lake; when, rounding a
point, they began to skirt the easterly shore of the bay that makes up to
the inlet, at a more leisurely pace, for the purpose of being on the
lookout for deer, which might be standing in the edge of the water round
the coves, to cool themselves and keep off the flies. Not seeing any signs
of game, however, they steered out so as to clear the various little capes
or woody points of land inclosing the numerous coves scattered along the
indented shore, and struck a line for the great inlet at the head of the
lake, which they now soon reached, and commenced rowing against the at
first gentle and then rapid current, which here pours down from, the upper
lakes, through the rocky and picturesque defiles, in the form of a
magnificent river, rivalling in its size the midway portions of the
Connecticut or Hudson.
"Now, young man," said the hunter, laying aside his paddle and taking up
the strong, elastic setting-pole he had provided for the occasion, "now you
must look out for your balance. The river, to be sure, is quite low, and
the current, of course, at its feeblest point; but we shall find places
enough within the next mile where the canoe, to go up at all, must go up
like the jump of a catamount. So, down in the bottom of the boat, on your
braced knees, with your haunches on your heels, and leave all to me."
"What! do you expect to force the canoe up rapids like these?" asked Claud,
in surprise, as he cast his eye over the long reach of eddying, tumbling
waters, that looked like a lessening sheet of foam as it lay stretched
upward in the distant perspective.
"I expect to try," coolly replied the hunter; "and, if you lay asleep in
the bottom of the canoe, I should expect to succeed. And, as it is, if you
can keep cool and obey orders, we will see what can be done."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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