The Demon Trapper of Umbagog: A Thrilling Tale of the Maine ForestsThompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
General
The Demon Trapper of Umbagog: A Thrilling Tale of the Maine Forests
Thompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Maine -- Fiction; Trappers -- Fiction
The low chirping of the wood-birds, the tiny barkings of the
out-starting squirrels, the hurrying footsteps of the night-prowling
animals, on their way to their coverts, on the land; and the leaping
up of fish, the flapping of the wings of ducks, and the far-heard,
trumpet-toned cry of the great northern diver, on the water, those
unfailing concomitants of approaching day, in the watered wilderness,
early aroused the next morning our little band of soundly-sleeping
hunters from their woodsmen’s feather beds,--the soft, elastic boughs
of the health-giving hemlock,--and put them on the stir in building
their fire and making preparations for their breakfast. The business of
the day before them was the completion of their camp building; which,
being intended, as before mentioned, for their general head-quarters
and storehouse, required far more care and labor in the construction
than the ordinary structures that are made to serve for shelters for
the sojourners of the woods. And, as soon as they had dispatched their
morning repast, they rose and prepared themselves to commence the task
on hand. As the main part of the company were scattering into the
woods, with their hatchets, in search of straight poles to rib out the
sides and roof of their structure, which was the first thing in order
to be done, Phillips, without explaining his object, quietly intimated
to Codman a wish for company, in a short excursion with canoes up the
river; and, the latter complying with the intimation, and putting
himself under the hunter’s lead, the two took to their canoes, with
each another canoe in tow, and commenced rowing up the stream; which,
having run its rapid and noisy race down to the foot of the mountains,
a mile or two above, was here, with gentle pace and seeming reverence,
advancing to the lake with its welcome tribute of crystal waters.
“Hillo, there, Mr. Hunter!” sung out the trapper to the other, now some
distance ahead, “what may be some of the whys and wherefores of this
shine we are cutting, stringing along here with canoes to our tails?
What suppose you should be telling, before a great while, lest this end
of the fleet might be missing?”
“Soon show you,” replied the hunter, without turning his head. “I
always liked the Indian fashion of answering questions by deeds
instead of words, where the circumstances admit,--it is so much more
significant and satisfactory, besides the world of lying it often
prevents.”
After rowing a short distance farther, in silence, the hunter turned
his canoe in shore; and, after the other had followed his example, he
said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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