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
“Excuse me,” replied Claud, “excuse me if I say, Miss Fluella, as Mr.
Phillips calls you, that you have already expressed, and in the finest
terms, far more than I am entitled to; so let that pass, and tell us
how your mishap occurred?”
“O, naturally enough, though rather stupidly,” responded the other,
regaining her ease and usually animated manner. “You must know that I
sometimes play the Indian girl, in doing my father’s trouting. And,
having rowed down to the rapids this morning for that purpose, I ran
my canoe on to a rock, up here at the head of the fails, and threw
into an eddy below, till I had taken a supply. But, like other folks,
I must have the _one more_,--a large one I had seen playing round my
hook; and, in my eagerness to take him, I did not notice that my canoe
had slipped off the rock till I found it drifting down the current.
I seized my oar, but, with the first blow in the water it snapt in
my hands. You know the rest, unless, perhaps, the number of fish I
caught,” she added, pointing to a string of fine trout still lying
safely in the bottom of her canoe.
“Brave girl!” exclaimed the hunter, going up to the boat with Claud,
to inspect the fish, which they had not before noticed. “A good ten
pounds, and fine ones, too. Claud shall remain here while I go a piece
up the lake for a deer, and follow your example, except the race down
the rapids; but that he can’t do, for I shall take our canoe with me,
and make him fish from the shore, which will be just as well. Are you
agreed to that arrangement, young man?”
This proposition being accepted, and it being also settled by common
consent that no further attempt should, at this time, be made to ascend
the remaining rapids with either of the boats, the hunter and Claud,
accompanied by the light-footed Fluella, took up her canoe and set off
with it, along shore, towards a convenient landing in the lake above,
then not more than sixty or seventy rods distant. In a short time the
proposed landing was reached, and the boat let down into the water.
The maiden, with an easy and sprightly movement, then flung herself
into her seat, and, with a paddle hastily whittled for her out of a
piece of drift-wood, by the ever ready hunter, sent her little craft in
a curving sweep into the lake; when, facing round to her preservers,
while a sweet and grateful smile broke over her dimpling features,
she bade and bowed them adieu, and went bounding over the undulating
waves towards her home, on an island some miles distant, near the
southeastern border of this romantic sheet of water.
“Can it be,” half-soliloquized Claud, as he stood rivetting his
wondering gaze on the beauteous figure, which, gracefully bowing with
the lightly-dipping oar, was receding from his rapt view, and gradually
melting away in the distance; “can it be that she is but a mere Indian
girl, one of those wild, untutored children of the forest?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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