The Demon Trapper of Umbagog: A Thrilling Tale of the Maine ForestsThompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
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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
“Spoke like a man who knows something,” said the trapper, the next
to offer comments. “And here is a loosened slip-knot in the end of
this bark boat-rope, which I have been looking at. See! it has been
drawn into a fixed knot, that hasn’t been altered since it has had
considerable use and steady pulling through it, as I see by the
chafed bark inside the small hole within the knot. The hole is too
small to have been brought into this shape by hitching it to a stake
or projecting limb of a tree on shore. It looks exactly as if a tie
attached to some other canoe had been passed through it, to draw this
canoe along by; and here is a slight mark of a knife, where that tie
has been cut out, owing to the difficulty of untying. This canoe must
have been hitched behind some other canoe, and towed down to the head
of the rapids, and there sent adrift.”
“Yes,” responded the hunter, who had been particularly confining his
attention to the outer and top edges along the sides of the boat; “yes;
and here is the moss or scurf that had gathered on these upper edges,
on both sides, during the snows and thaws of winter, still remaining
entire and unbroken, in every part of this delicate weather coating,
which even a thumbnail, as you see, can’t pass over without marring
it or leaving a mark. No man could have rowed this canoe twenty rods
without grazing these edges and leaving marks on them. Yes, you are
both right. This canoe, which I suppose you all agree was Mr. Elwood’s,
has not been rowed since he left it hauled up on the shore of the
Oquossak last fall, to be buried by the great snow-storm; and the
Elwoods are both safe, for all being wrecked and drowned from _that_
boat, or any other, I presume.”
The countenance of Mrs. Elwood, who stood at some little distance from
the spot where the examination of the canoe had been going on, but
near enough to hear most of what was said, visibly brightened at this
announcement. The hunter saw the expression, and a shade of anguish
passed over his face, as, turning to those immediately around him, and
speaking in a low, subdued, and commiserating tone, he resumed:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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