The Bridge of the Gods: A Romance of Indian Oregon. 19th Edition.Balch, Frederic Homer
General
The Bridge of the Gods: A Romance of Indian Oregon. 19th Edition.
Balch, Frederic Homer
Indians of North America -- Fiction; Oregon -- Fiction
Some one spoke to her, not ungently, and she looked up. One of the
canoe-men stood beside her. He pointed to the canoe, now launched near
by. Snoqualmie was still below, at the foot of the falls,
superintending the removal of the other.
Slowly and wearily she entered the waiting canoe and resumed her seat.
The Indian paddlers took their places. They told her that the chief
Snoqualmie had bidden them take her on without him. He would follow in
the other canoe. It was a relief to be free from his presence, if only
for a little while; and the sadness on her face lightened for a moment
when they told her.
A few quick paddle-strokes, and the boat shot out into the current
above the cascades and then glided forward. No, _not_ forward. The
canoe-men, unfamiliar with the new cataract, had launched their vessel
too close to the falls; and the mighty current was drawing it back. A
cry of horror burst from their lips as they realized their danger, and
their paddles were dashed into the water with frenzied violence. The
canoe hung quivering through all its slender length between the
desperate strokes that impelled it forward and the tremendous suction
that drew it down. Had they been closer to the bank, they might have
saved themselves; but they were too far out in the current. They felt
the canoe slipping back in spite of their frantic efforts, slowly at
first, then more swiftly; and they knew there was no hope.
The paddles fell from their hands. One boatman leaped from the canoe
with the desperate idea of swimming ashore, but the current instantly
swept him under and out of sight; the other sat motionless in his
place, awaiting the end with Indian stolidity.
The canoe was swept like a leaf to the verge of the fall and downward
into a gulf of mist and spray. As it trembled on the edge of the
cataract, and its horrors opened beneath her, Wallulah realized her
doom for the first time; and in the moment she realised it, it was
upon her. There was a quick terror, a dreamlike glimpse of white
plunging waters, a deafening roar, a sudden terrible shock as the
canoe was splintered on the rocks at the foot of the fall; then all
things were swallowed up in blackness, a blackness that was death.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account