Matilda Montgomerie; Or, The Prophecy FulfilledRichardson, Major (John)
History
Matilda Montgomerie; Or, The Prophecy Fulfilled
Richardson, Major (John)
United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Fiction
Nothing short of a miracle could now possibly enable the adventurers to
escape being drawn into the boiling vortex; and, during the moments that
succeeded, every heart beat high with fearful expectation as to the
result. At length the canoe came with a sudden plunge into the very
centre of the current, which all the skill of the steersman was
insufficient to enable him to clear. Her bow yawed, her little sail
fluttered--and away she flew, broadside foremost, down the stream, with
as little power of resistance as a feather or a straw. Scarcely had the
eye time to follow her in this peculiar descent, when she was in the
very heart of the raging eddy. For a moment she reeled like a top, then
rolled two or three times over, and finally disappeared altogether.
Various expressions of horror broke from the several groups of whites
and Indians, all of whom had anticipated the catastrophe without the
power of actively interposing. Beyond the advice that was given, not a
word was uttered, but every eye continued fixed on the whirlpool, as
though momentarily expecting to see something issue from its bosom.
After the lapse of a minute, a dark object suddenly presented itself
some twenty yards below, between the island and town. It was the canoe
which, bottom upwards and deprived of its little mast and sail, had
again risen to the surface, and was floating rapidly down with the
current. Presently afterwards two heads were seen nearly at the point
where the canoe had again emerged. They were the unfortunate
adventurers, one of whom appeared to be supporting his companion with
one arm, whilst with the other he dashed away the waters that bore them
impetuously along. The hats of both had fallen off, and as he who
exerted himself so strenuously, rose once or twice in the vigor of his
efforts above the element with which he contended, he seemed to present
the grisly, woolly hair, and the sable countenance of an aged negro. A
vague surmise of the truth now flashed upon the mind of the excited
officer; but when, presently afterwards, he saw the powerful form once
more raised, and in a voice that made itself distinctly heard above the
howling of the wind, exclaim, "Help a dare!" there was no longer a
doubt, and he rushed towards the dock-yard, to gain which the exertions
of the negro were now directed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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