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
After giving vent to her painfully laboring emotions a while, the
maiden softly arose, and, creeping down under the overhanging boughs
to the edge of the water, sat down on a stone and bathed her throbbing
brow, for some time, in the limpid wave; after which, having in a good
measure regained her usual firmness and tranquillity, she returned
to the side of her wounded friend, whom she found wrapt in the deep
slumber generally produced by exhaustion from loss of blood. After
gazing a while on his face, with the sad and yearning look of a mother
on a disease-smitten child, a new thought seemed suddenly to occur
to her, and she noiselessly stole away to her former lookout, at the
south end of the island, where, with a brightening eye, she caught
sight of the loathed and dreaded homicide, just entering the distant
outlet. Waiting no longer than to feel assured that he had disappeared
with the real intention of descending the stream, she returned to her
still sleeping charge, slowly and carefully slid the canoe down into
the water, headed it round with her hands, gained her seat in the
stern, and pushed out into the lake, shaping her course obliquely down
it towards the mouth of a small river entering from the eastern side,
at the lower end of the lake, but still nearly a mile distant from the
outlet in which the murderer had disappeared. Softly and smoothly as
a gently-rocking cradle, the light canoe, under the skillfully plied
oar of the careful maiden, glided through the waveless waters on her
destined course, and, for more than an hour, steadily kept on its
noiseless way, without once appearing to disturb the repose of the
slumbering invalid. But, as the hitherto low-looking forest bordering
the eastern shore began to loom up, and thus apprise the fair rower
that she was now nearing the point to which she had been directing
her course, she noticed, with concern, that the lake was beginning
to be agitated, even where she then was, from a gathering breeze;
while a long, light, advancing line, extending across the lake in the
distance behind her, plainly told of the rapid approach of wind, which
must soon greatly increase the disturbance of the waters, and the
consequent rocking of the canoe. Knowing how injuriously such motion of
the boat might affect the invalid, she put forth her utmost strength
in propelling the canoe forward to reach the quiet haven before her,
in season to escape the threatened roughness of the water. But her
best exertions could secure only a partial immunity from the trouble
she thus sought to avoid. The wind struck her long before gaining the
place; when, in spite of all her endeavors to steady it, the canoe
began to lurch and toss among the gathering waves; while the almost
immediate awakening of the disturbed invalid, his twinges of pain
and suppressed groans, told her, as they sent responsive thrills of
anguish through her bosom, how much he was suffering from the motion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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