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
The grating, or grinding of the ice above us, cake upon cake, now sounded
like the rushing of heavy winds, or the incessant roaring of a surf upon
the sea-shore. The piles were becoming visible, by their height and their
proximity, as the ragged barriers set slowly but steadily down upon us;
and the whole river seemed to me to be in motion downwards. At this awful
instant, when I began to think it was the will of Providence that Anneke
and I were to perish together, a strange sound interrupted the fearful
natural accessories of that frightful scene. I certainly heard the bells
of a sleigh; at first they seemed distant and broken--then, nearer and
incessant, attended by the rumbling of runners on the ice. I took off my
cap and pressed my head, for I feared my brain was unsettled. There it
came, however, more and more distinctly, until the trampling of horses'
hoofs mingled in the noise.
“Can there be others as unhappy as ourselves!” exclaimed Anneke, forgetting
her own fears in generous sympathy. “See, Littlepage!--see, _dear_
Cornelius--yonder surely comes another sleigh!”
Come it did, like the tempest, or the whirlwind; passing within fifty feet
of us. I knew it at a glance. It was the sleigh of Herman Mordaunt, empty;
with the horses, maddened by terror, running wherever their fears impelled.
As the sleigh passed, it was thrown on one side; then it was once more
whirled up again; and it went out of sight, with the rumbling sound of the
runners mingling with the jingling of bells and the tramp of hoofs.
At this instant a loud, distant cry from a human voice, was certainly
heard. It seemed, to me, as if some one called my name; and Anneke said,
she so understood it, too. The call, if call it was, came from the south,
and from under the western shore. At the next moment, awful reports
proceeded from the barrier above; and, passing an arm around the slender
waist of my lovely companion, to support her, I began a rapid movement in
the direction of that call. While attempting to reach the western shore, I
had observed a high mound of broken ice, that was floating down; or rather,
was pressed down on the smooth surface of the frozen river, in advance of
the smaller cakes that came by in the current. It was increasing, in size,
by accessions from these floating cakes, and threatened to form a new dam,
at some narrow pass below, as soon as of sufficient size. It occurred to me
we should be temporarily safe, could we reach that mound, for it rose so
high as to be above danger from the water. Thither, then, I ran, almost
carrying Anneke on my arm; our speed increased by the terrific sounds from
the dam above us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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