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
"We have a correct noon-mark at the house, and the women are probably
right," replied Elwood. "At all events, men who have worked like lions, as
you all have this forenoon, must by this time need refreshment. So, let us
all drop work, and at once be off to dinner."
With such familiar jokes and converse, the light-hearted backwoodsmen threw
off their crocky frocks, and, after washing up at a runlet at hand, marched
off in chatty groups to the house, where they found awaiting their arrival
the well-spread board of their appreciating hostess, this time made more
tempting to their vigorous and healthy appetites by the addition, to the
fine trout of the morning, of the variously-cooked haunches of the hunter's
venison. And, having here done ample justice to their excellent meal, they
again hastened back to their labor in the field, unanimously declaring for
the good husbandman's rule, "Work first and play afterwards," and saying
they would have no rest nor recreation till they had seen the last log of
the slash disposed of. And with such animation did they resume their
labors, and with such vigor continue to apply themselves in carrying out
their resolution, and in hastening the hour of its fulfilment, that by the
middle of the afternoon their task was ended; and the gratified Mr. Elwood
had the satisfaction of seeing the formidable-looking slash of the morning
converted into a comparatively smooth field, requiring only the action of
the fire on the log heaps, with a few days' tending, to make it fit for the
seed and harrow.
"Come, boys," said the hunter to the company, now all within speaking
distance, except two or three who had somehow disappeared; "come, boys," he
repeated, after pausing to see the last log thrown up in its place, "let us
gather up here near the middle of the lot. Comical Codman and some others,
I have noticed, have been putting their heads together, and I kinder
surmise we may now soon expect some sort of christening ceremony of the
field we have walked through in such fine style to-day; and, if they make
out any thing worth the while, it may be well to give them a good cheer or
two, to wind off with."
While the men were taking their stand at the spot designated by the hunter,
Codman was seen mounting a conspicuous logheap at the southerly end of the
field; and two more men, at the same time, made their appearance on the
tops of different piles on opposite sides of the lot, and nearly abreast of
the place where the expectant company were collected and standing, silently
awaiting the commencement of the promised ceremony. Presently one of the
two last-named, with a preliminary flourish of his hand, slowly and loudly
began:
"Since we see the last logs fairly roll'd,
And log-heaps full fifty, all told,
We should deem it a shame
If so handsome and well-cleared a field,
Bidding fair for a hundred-fold yield,
Be afforded no name."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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