Satanstoe; Or, the Littlepage Manuscripts. A Tale of the ColonyCooper, James Fenimore
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Satanstoe; Or, the Littlepage Manuscripts. A Tale of the Colony
Cooper, James Fenimore
Antirent War, N.Y., 1839-1846 -- Fiction
I followed Guert, and did look for myself. We sprang upon the cakes of ice,
which were piled quite thirty feet in height, on the head of the island,
extending right and left, as far as our eyes could see, by that misty
light. It was by no means difficult moving about on this massive pile, the
movement in the cakes being slow, and frequently interrupted; but there was
no concealing the true character of the danger. Had not the island, and the
adjacent main interposed their obstacles, the ice would have continued to
move bodily down the stream, cake shoving over cake, until the whole found
vent in the wider space below, and floated off towards the ocean. Not only
was our island there; however, but other islands lay near us, straitening
the different channels or passages in such a way, as to compel the
formation of an icy dam; and, on the strength of this dam rested all our
security. Were it to be ruptured anywhere near us, we should inevitably be
swept off in a body. Guert thought, however, as has been said already, that
the waters had found narrow issues under the main land, both east and west
of us; and should this prove to be true, there was a hope that the great
calamity might be averted. In other words, if these floodgates sufficed, we
_might_ escape; otherwise the catastrophe was certain.
“I cannot excuse it to myself to remain here, without endeavouring to see
what is the state of things nearer to the shore,” said Guert, after we had
viewed the fast accumulating mass of broken ice above us, as well as the
light permitted, and we had talked over together the chances of safety,
and the character of the danger. “Do you return to the ladies, Corny, and
endeavour to keep up their spirits, while I cross this channel on our
right, to the next island, and see what offers in that direction.”
“I do not like the idea of your running all the risk alone; besides,
something may occur to require the strength of two, instead of that of one,
to overcome it.”
“You can go with me as far as the next island, if you will, where we shall
be able to ascertain at once whether it be ice or water that separates us
from the eastern shore. If the first, you can return as fast as possible
for the ladies, while I look for a place to cross. I do not like the
appearance of this dam, to be honest with you; and have great fears for
those who are now in the sleigh.”
We were in the very act of moving away, when a loud, cracking noise, that
arose within a few yards, alarmed us both; and running to the spot whence
it proceeded, we saw that a large willow had snapped in two, like a
pipe-stem, and that the whole barrier of ice was marching, slowly, but
grandly, over the stump, crushing the fallen trunk and branches beneath its
weight, as the slow-moving wheel of the loaded cart crushes the twig. Guert
grasped my arm, and his fingers nearly entered the flesh, under his iron
pressure.
“We must quit this spot--” he said firmly, “and at once. Let us go back to
the sleigh.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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