Gaut Gurley; Or, the Trappers of Umbagog Part 18

They did so; and, on reaching camp, agreeably surprised their companions with the abundant supply of excellent material which they had brought for covering the cabin, and for which, when the circ.u.mstances became known, all were disposed to accord due credit to the provident hunter.

With the material thus obtained, the ribbing of the frame having by this time been completed, all hands now commenced the work of laying on, fitting, and confining the pliant and close-lying strips of bark to the framework of the structure, both above and below. And with so much a.s.siduity and skill did they prosecute their labors, that before night their camp was covered and inclosed on every side, and made to present to the eye, a cabin neat and comely in appearance, and as tight, warm, and secure against storms, as many a dwelling-house in the open country, covered with boards and shingles.

After the company had completed the roof and walls of their camp, constructed a rude door, and made what interior arrangements they deemed necessary for sleeping and storing their provisions, they went out, for the hour or two now remaining before sunset, and scattered for short excursions in their canoes along the neighboring coves of the lake, for the various purposes of fishing, shooting ducks, or inspecting the sh.o.r.es for indications of beaver, otter, and other cla.s.ses of the smaller fur-animals of amphibious habits. All returning, however, at sunset, they proceeded to cook and eat their suppers, much in the same manner as on the preceding evening; after which, in compliance with the suggestions made by several of the company during the day, they went into a general consultation for the purpose of fixing on the different locations and ranges of river and forest, which each, or each pair of them, should take for their hunting or trapping during the season before them. They soon agreed, in the first place, without any difficulty, in making the sh.o.r.es of the Oquossak, the next lake above, and the last and perhaps largest of the four great lakes forming the chief links of this singular chain of inland waters, the base-line of their operations. Phillips and Codman, having procured a wide strip of the outer bark of the white birch,--ever the woodman's subst.i.tute for writing paper, when writing becomes necessary,--then proceeded to draw a map, from personal recollection, of the strangely-irregular lake in question. By this, when completed, it appeared that the main inlet, or the uppermost portion of the Androscoggin river, coming down from the north through a chain of lakelets, or ponds, and running parallel with the eastern sh.o.r.e of the lake, and but a few miles distant from it, entered into a deep, pointed bay, about a third of the way down the eastern sh.o.r.e; where it was joined by another and scarcely lesser river, coming from or through a different chain of these lakelets, scattered along far to the east and northeast of the Oquossak; while a third considerable stream entered the lake at its extreme northwestern termination. These three inlets, that const.i.tuted all the rivers of any magnitude running into this lake, would not only afford, it was readily seen, the most desirable hunting-grounds in the sections through which they flowed, but give the greater part of the hunters, if they encamped in pairs, and had their camps at the mouths of these streams, as was expected, an opportunity of locating in near vicinity; while two more of the remaining part of the company would, at the mouth of the northwestern inlet, be less than five miles distant. This arrangement would dispose of six of the company,--two of them on the inlet last mentioned, and four on the two rivers that entered the lake together,--and leave one to remain on the Megantic, to take charge of the head-quarters, or store-camp there, and hunt anywhere he chose in its vicinity. But who the one to be placed in this trust should be, was the next question to be decided. Gaut Gurley, who had been secretly scheming for this post ever since the arrangement which he saw must necessarily create it was agreed on, and who had been insidiously making interest for it, with all the company, except Phillips and Codman, now proposed that the question should be decided by ballot, and without discussion. And, the proposition being seconded by Tomah and a.s.sented to by all, each took a small piece of birch bark, marked with a coal the name of the person he would vote for, and deposited it in a hat placed on their stone table for the purpose. After all had voted, the hat was turned and the votes a.s.sorted; when it appeared that four votes had been thrown for Gaut Gurley and three for Mark Elwood, making seven in all, and showing that all the company had voted.

"Well, friend Elwood," said Gaut, with a well-a.s.sumed air of indifference, when the result was seen, "shall _I_ resign in _your_ favor, or _you_ in _mine_? This thing should be unanimous."

Elwood looked up inquiringly at Gaut, when he read something in the countenance of the latter which gave him to understand what was expected of him, and he accordingly responded: "I should suppose there could not be much question which of the two, a minority or a majority candidate, should ask the other to stand aside,--especially when, as in your case, the majority candidate is clearly chosen. I voted, gentlemen, for Mr. Gurley,"

he added, turning to the rest of the company; "and I hope those who voted for me will cheerfully acquiesce in the choice of the majority."

"I am a comparative stranger to you all," remarked Carvil, "and, though I voted for Mr. Elwood, I will yet very willingly agree to the selection you have made."

Gaut, knowing well enough who had thrown their votes against him, now glanced at Phillips and Codman; but gathering from their silence and demure and downcast looks that no approving expression was likely to be drawn from either of them, he interrupted the pause that followed Carvil's remarks, by saying:

"Perhaps, then, I ought to accept the post thus a.s.signed me; and on some accounts it will come right all round. I should be compelled, any way, to return once or twice to the settlements during our campaign, on business, and I can attend to that, and procure the fresh supplies of bread and other things we shall need, all under one head. And, besides that, I had already made up my mind I should select this stream, and the coves on this lake, for my trapping and hunting for beaver and other water animals, which I once knew how to take, in preference to going any farther. So I will accept the post, warrant the safe-keeping of the common property, and see what I can do towards contributing my share to the stock of furs."

This point being thus regarded by the company as settled, they next proceeded to the discussion of the more particular duties which should devolve on their chosen camp-keeper; which, at length, resulted in the arrangement that he should go up with his canoe into the Oquossak, once a week, make the circuit of the lake so far as to visit the nearest or lake-sh.o.r.e camps of each or each pair of his companions, bring them fresh provisions, and take back to head-quarters all the furs each had caught in the interim, and be held responsible for the good condition and safe-keeping of all the peltries, and other common property of the company, thus placed in his charge.

After this matter (which was destined to have an important bearing on the fate and fortunes of more than one of the leading personages of our story) was thus disposed of, they then, in conclusion of the business of the evening, proceeded, by mutual agreement, to apportion the different locations for hunting on the upper lake, already fixed on, among the three pairs of hunters the company would now make; decide what individuals should join to form each pair; and what general plan of operations they should adopt, after they had got settled in their respective places. By the amicable arrangement thus made, Phillips and Claud Elwood were to form one of these pairs, and fix their lake-camp at the mouth of the river already named as coming in from the east; Carvil and Mark Elwood to const.i.tute another pair, and encamp at the mouth of the great inlet entering at the same place; while Codman and the young Indian, Tomah, who, from their mutual challenges in beaver-catching, had by this time become friends, and willing to hunt from the same starting-point, were to have their camp at the mouth of the river coming in at the northwest end of the lake. By the plan now adopted, also, each of these three hunting parties, after they had reached their respective destinations and built their camps, were to explore the rivers ten or fifteen miles upward through the forest, and to some suitable and convenient terminus of their proposed trapping and hunting range; there build a camp, in which to lodge on their outward jaunts; and mark off, on their return, by blazing the trees, lines for setting log-traps for sable, marten, stoat, or ermine,--for, whatever may be said to the contrary, the noted ermine of Europe is a native of our northern forests. These marked lines were to diverge from the upper camps along the ridges on each side of the river; sometimes running many miles apart, then turning down to the stream, where indications of beaver and otter had been discovered, so as to afford a chance for setting and tending steel-traps for those animals; then running back again on to the high hills and ridges; but finally converging in, and meeting at the lake camp. And, these preliminary steps being taken, everything would then be in readiness for setting the traps, and for entering on the hopeful business of their expedition.

All these arrangements being now definitely settled and understood, the consultation was broken up, and the company betook themselves once more to their sylvan couches, calculating on an early start the next day for their several destinations on the Oquossak, the nearest of which was at least a dozen miles distant.

Accordingly, with the first crack of dawn the next morning, the loud and startling gallinaceous cachinnation of the droll and wide-awake trapper aroused the woodsmen from their slumbers, and warned them to be up and doing. And soon the whole company were in motion, the kindled fire was crackling and flashing up amidst the dry pine f.a.ggots, thrown, on to feed and start it into the steadier blaze and heat of more solid fuel, and the process of cooking was going busily forward. In a short time they were again gathered, in high spirits, round their stone table, unconsciously partaking, as the event proved, the last meal they were ever all to enjoy together in the woods. But let us not antic.i.p.ate.

As soon as they had dispatched their breakfast, the band about to depart loaded their canoes with traps, guns, camp-kettles, and the provisions needed for immediate use; and, wishing Gaut Gurley a happy and successful time at his solitary station, pushed merrily away into the broad lake, turned their course northward, and sped on their voyage. A few miles rowing brought them to the great inlet, which, like the princ.i.p.al inlets to the lakes below, was another reach of the Androscoggin, flowing directly from the east through a channel, still nearly a hundred yards in width and nearly three miles in length, from its entrance into one lake to the point where it debouches from the other. After a row of an hour up this channel, made interesting and impressive by the magnificent colonnades of princely pines, that, as far as the eye could reach, stood towering away in lessening perspective along its banks, they suddenly emerged into the bright and far-stretching waters of the unmapped Oquossak, which lay nestling and inflected among the dark green cliffs of the boldly intersecting mountains, like some rough, unshapen gem, gleaming out from the rubbish of a mine. And laying their course northeasterly, for the distant bay receiving the waters of the confluent streams before described, they now pulled away through the lake, in as direct a line as its irregular form, would permit. And now, skirting long reaches of its deeply-wooded sh.o.r.es, from which the old forest, never broken by the axe, and rarely ever trod by the foot of the white man, was seen, stretching away back, lift after lift, in pristine grandeur, to the tall summits of the amphitheatric mountains,--now shooting athwart, under some dark headland that stood out boldly disputing the empire with the water, and now threading their way among the cl.u.s.tering green islands that studded the bright and beautiful expanse,--they rowed steadily onward for hours, and at length were gladdened by the sight of the dim but well-remembered outlines of the pointed bay, whose farthest sh.o.r.e was to be the home and haven for most of their number, during their present sojourn in this wild and remote fastness of the wilderness.

To row in, disembark their luggage, select sites for camps, to build those camps, so far as to make them serve for shelters for the night, and to prepare and eat their suppers, occupied the company, who had all decided to remain there that night through the remainder of the day till bed-time. The next morning, after an early breakfast, Codman and Tomah took leave of their companions, and proceeded on further up the lake to their allotted station; leaving the two Elwoods, and their respective hunting companions, to complete their camps, which were situated in near vicinity, get all in readiness, and the next day enter in earnest on the main business of the campaign.

But it is not our intention to follow either of these pairs, or now distinct parties, of adventurous woodsmen, in the general routine of their camp life,--in their solitary and almost daily marches among the tangled wilds, from their inner to outer camps; their toils and fatigues on the way; their pleasant meetings at the ends of their ranges at night, to recount the adventures of the day, and lodge together; their heats and their colds, their dark hours and their bright ones, their curious experiences and startling encounters with wild animals; and finally their varying success in realizing the objects of their expedition, through the successive scenes of the next nine or ten weeks, where

--"rifle flashed, The grim bear hushed its savage howl, In blood and foam, the panther gnashed Its fangs with dying howl; The fleet deer ceased its flying bound, Its snarling wolf-foe bit the ground, And, with its moaning cry, The beaver sank beneath the wound, Its pond-built Venice by."

Suffice it to say, that they were all blest with uninterrupted health and increasing vigor, in realization of the favorite theory of Carvil, in relation to the invigorating and fattening principle of the super-abounding oxygen of the woods. They all highly enjoyed their wild life, and were, even beyond their most sanguine expectations, successful in their aggregate acquisitions of peltries and all kinds of game. Gaut Gurley, whose unremitted attention and apparent faithfulness in the duties of his post soon disarmed the distrusting, came round punctually, every week, supplied them with all they needed, and, while reporting his own good success, in his short ranges in the vicinity of his head-quarters encampment, seemed greatly gratified at the continued successes of all the rest, and exultingly bore off their furs for curing and safe storage with the rich and rapidly-increasing collection at his camp; setting the mark of their collected value, the last time he came round, at upwards of a thousand dollars, and encouraging them with the hope that, probably, before any change would occur in the weather which would compel them to relinquish the business and return to the settlement, a much larger sum would be realized from their exertions. And, in view of this gratifying condition of their affairs, the company at large--as winter at the farthest could not be very distant--now began to antic.i.p.ate, with much satisfaction, the time when they should return to their families, to gladden them with their welcome presence, and, from the fruits of their enterprise, make such unlooked-for pecuniary additions to the means of domestic comfort and happiness.

CHAPTER XV.

"As the night set in, came hail and snow, And the air grew sharp and chill, And the warning roar of a terrible blow Was heard on the distant hill; And the norther,--see, on the mountain peak, In his breath, how the old trees writhe and shriek!

He shouts along o'er the plain, ho, ho!

He drives from his nostrils the blinding snow, And growls with a savage will."

C. G. EASTMAN.

We will now take the reader to the wild and secluded banks of Dead river, the great southwesterly tributary of the lordly Kennebec, the larger twin brother of the Androscoggin, both of which, after being born of the same parent range of mountains, and wandering off widely apart, at length find, at the end of their courses, like many a pair of long estranged brothers, their final rest in a common estuary at the seaboard. At a point on the banks of the tributary above named, where its long southward sweep brings it nearest, and within twenty miles of the Oquossak, and within a quarter of that distance from the terminating camps of the outward ranges of the hunters, two men in hunting-suits might have been seen, in the fore part of one of the last days of November, in the season of the eventful expedition we have been describing, intently engaged in inspecting some fragments of wrought wood, which, from the clue of some protruding piece, they had kicked up from the leaves and decayed brushwood that had nearly concealed them from view. One of these men was past the middle age, of a hardy but somewhat worn appearance. The other was in the prime of young manhood, of a finely-moulded form and an unusually prepossessing face and countenance.

But we may as well let the dialogue that ensued between them disclose their ident.i.ty; the matter that was now engaging their attention; and their reasons for thus appearing in this remote position.

"This piece," said the elder, closely scanning the fragment he held in his hand, "is evidently oak, and looks mightily as if it was once the stave of an oak keg or half-barrel. Yes, and here is another that will settle the question," he continued, pulling from its concealment a larger and sounder fragment. "There! can't you trace the chine across the end of this?"

"Yes, quite distinctly, and I should not hesitate to p.r.o.nounce all these fragments the remains of an oak barrel that had once been opened, or left here, if I could conceive how such a thing could come here, in the heart of this extensive wilderness. How do you solve the mystery Mr. Phillips?"

"Well, Claud, I am as much at fault as you. Barrels don't float up stream; and to suppose this came down stream, and still farther from any inhabitants, wouldn't help on the explanation any more; while to suppose it was brought here by hunters through the woods, where they could have no use for it even if they could get it here, is scarcely more probable."

"True; but can't we get a clue from something else about the place? This open s.p.a.ce, hereabouts, wears something of the aspect of a place from which the trees have been once cut away, or greatly thinned, out, for some great encampment, for instance. Did you ever hear of any expedition of men through this region, in such numbers as would require the transportation of large quant.i.ties of provisions, drawn possibly by oxen, or more probably by men on light sledges?"

"Well, now, come to think of it, I have. And I guess you have blundered right smack on the truth, at the first go off; which is more than I can claim for myself, I admit. Yes, nearly fifty years ago, at the beginning of the old war, as you must have often read, an army _did_ pa.s.s somewhere through the wilderness of Maine to Quebec. It was under the command of that fiery Satan, Benedict Arnold,--the only man in America, may be, who could have pushed an army, at that time of the year, some weeks later in the season than it is now, through a hundred and fifty miles' reach of such woods as these are, between our last and the first Canadian settlement. My father was one of that army of bold and hardy men. They pa.s.sed up the Kennebec some distance, and, then, according to his account, left it, and, with the view of getting over the Highlands on to the Great Megantic more easily, turned up a branch, which must have been this very stream. Yes, I see, now. You are right about the appearance of this spot. There _was_ once a great encampment here, and doubtless that of Arnold's army, staying over night, and breaking open a barrel of meat, conveyed here in some such way as you suggested."

"It is an interesting discovery; for that was a remarkable expedition, and must have been one of great hardship and suffering."

"Hardship and suffering! Why, they fell short of provisions long before they got out of the wilderness, and, besides the hardships of cold and fatigue, came near starving to death! I have heard my father tell how he was one of a party of thirteen, who, with other like squads, were permitted to scatter forward in search of some inhabitants, for food, lest they all perished together; how, after going two days without putting a morsel into their mouths, except their shoe-strings or the inner bark of trees, they at length were gladdened by the sight of an opening, with a log house, and a cow standing before the door; how, the instant their eyes fell on the cow, they ran like blood-hounds for the spot, seized an axe, brought the animal to the ground, ripped up the hide on one thigh, cut off slices of the quivering flesh, and, by the time the aroused family had got out into the yard, were munching and gobbling them down raw, with the desperate eagerness of ravenous beasts." [Footnote: A historical fact, once related to the author by an old soldier who was one of the party here described.]

"Horrible! but they paid the poor people for their cow, I trust?"

"Yes, twice-over, but that did not reconcile them to the loss of their only cow, where it was so difficult to get another. The children screamed, and even the man and his wife wrung their hands and cried as if their hearts would break."

"That incident is to me a new feature among the horrors of war, which I probably should have never heard of but for coming here and making this curious discovery of one of the relics of that terrible and fruitless campaign of our Revolution. I am glad we concluded to come."

"So am I; for that, and the other reason that I wanted to see the lay of the country, round this river, where, as it happened, I had never been. But my mind misgave me several times, on the way."

"Why so, pray?"

"I can hardly tell, myself, but I began to kinder feel as if something wrong was going on somewhere, and that, though this place could not be more than five miles from our upper camp, where we stayed last night, we had yet better be making our way directly back to the lake. Besides that, I haven't liked the symptoms of the weather, to-day."

"I don't know that I have noticed any thing peculiar in the weather, except a chilliness of the air that I have not felt before this season."

"That's the thing," rejoined the hunter, glancing uneasily up through the treetops, to try to get a view of the sky. "But there are other indications I don't fancy. There is a peculiar raw dampness in the air, and a sort of low, moaning sound heard once in a while murmuring along through the forest, such as I have often noticed before great storms, and sudden changes from fall to winter weather, this time of the year. And hush!

hark!" he exclaimed, suddenly cutting short his remark, as the well-known, solemn, and quickly-repeated _konk! konk!_ of wild geese, on their pa.s.sage, greeted their ears.

They ran down to the water's edge to get a view of the open sky, when, looking up, they saw a large flock of these winged, semi-annual voyagers of the air, coming in view over the forest, in their usual widespread, harrow-shaped battalions, and with seemingly hurried flight, pitching down from the British highlands toward the lower regions to the south. And that flock had scarcely receded beyond hearing, when another, and yet another, with the same uneasy cries and rapid flight, pa.s.sed, in quick succession, over the open reach of sky above them.

"How far do you calculate the nearest sh.o.r.e of the Gulf of St. Lawrence is from here?" asked the hunter, musingly.

"O, not so very great a distance,--three hundred miles, perhaps," replied Claud, looking inquiringly at the other.

"Well," slowly responded the hunter, "those G.o.d-taught creatures know more about the coming changes of the weather than all the philosophers in the world. These are but the advanced detachments of armies yet behind them, already, doubtless, on their way from Labrador, and even more northern coasts beyond. In the unusual mild November we have had, they never received their warning till this morning. And these, being on the southern outposts of their summer quarters, the Gulf of St. Lawrence, started at daylight, I presume,--about four hours ago, just about the time I perceived a change in the atmosphere myself. This, at the rapid headway you perceive they are making, would give them time to get here by this hour of the day."

"Then you take this as an indication of the approach of winter weather?"

"I do. And the evident hurriedness of their flight, and the sort of quickened, anxious tone of their cries, show that _they_, at least, think it is not far behind them. But let us put all the signs together. I must get to some place where I can see more of the sky. I noticed, as I was coming in sight of the river, a short way back in the woods, a high, sharp hill, with a bare, open top, rising from the river, about a hundred rods up along here to the left. What suppose we pack up, and go and ascend it? We can, there, besides getting the view we want of the lay of the country, see, probably, the horizon nearly all round. And, all this done, we will then hold a council of war, and decide on our next movement."

This proposal meeting the ready approval of the young man, the two took their rifles, and proceeded to the foot of the eminence in question, which they found to be a steep, conical hill, rising abruptly three or four hundred feet above the general level of the surrounding forest, with a small, pointed apex, from which some tornado had hurled every standing tree except a tall, slender green pine, that shot up eighty or ninety feet, as straight as a flagstaff, from the centre. After a severe scramble up the steeps, in some places almost perpendicular, they at length reached the summit, and commenced leisurely walking round the verge, looking down on the variegated wilderness, which, with its thousand dotted hills and undulating ridges, lay stretched in cold solitude around them. With only a general glance, however, over the surrounding forests, the gaze of the hunter was anxiously lifted upwards, to study the omens of the heavens. The sun, by this time, was scarcely visible beneath the cold, lurid haze which had for some hours been gradually stealing over it; while around the horizon lay piled long, motionless banks of leaden clouds, thick and heavy enough evidently to be dark, but yet of that light, dead, glazed, uncertain hue, which the close observer may have often noted as the precursor of winter-storms. After a long and attentive survey of every visible part of the heavens, the hunter, with an ominous shake of the head, dropped his eyes to the ground, and said:

"I was right, but didn't want to believe it when I got up this morning; and the wild geese are right. We are on the eve of winter, and our best hope is that it may come gently. But even that favor, I greatly fear, we shall not be permitted to realize."

"Well, sir, with that view of the case, in which I am inclined to concur, what do you propose now?" asked Claud.