"CAST AWAY."
Of course, the reports of the guns must have frightened any other swans
that were near. It was not likely they would find any more before going
some distance farther down the river; so, having stowed away in a safe
place the two already killed, the hunters paddled rapidly onward.
They had hardly gone half a mile farther, when another flock of swans
was discovered. These were approached in a similar way, and no less
than three were obtained--Francois making a remarkable shot, and killing
with both barrels. A little farther down, one of the "hoopers" was
killed; and still farther on, another trumpeter; making in all no less
than seven swans that lay dead in the bottom of the canoe!
These seven great birds almost filled the little craft to the gunwales,
and you would think that our "torch-hunters" ought to have been content
with such a spoil; but the hunter is hard to satisfy with game, and but
too often inclined to "spill much more blood" than is necessary to his
wants. Our voyageurs, instead of desisting, again set the canoe in
motion, and continued the hunt.
A short distance below the place where they had shot the last swan, as
they were rounding a bend in the river, a loud rushing sounded in their
ears; similar to that produced by a cascade or waterfall. On first
hearing it, they were startled and somewhat alarmed. It might be a
"fall," thought they. Norman could not tell: he had never travelled
this route; he did not know whether there were falls in the Red River or
not, but he believed not. In his voyage to the South, he had travelled
by another route; that was, up the Winnipeg River, and through Rainy
Lake and the Lake of the Woods to Lake Superior. This is the usual and
well-known track followed by the _employes_ of the Hudson's Bay Company;
and Norman had travelled it.
In this uncertainty the canoe was brought to a stop, and our voyageurs
remained listening. The noise made by the water was not very distant,
and sounded like the roaring of "rapids," or the rush of a "fall." It
was evidently one or the other; but, after listening to it for a
considerable time, all came to the conclusion that the sound did not
proceed from the Red River itself, but from some stream that emptied
into it upon the right. With this belief they again put the canoe in
motion, and glided slowly and cautiously onward.
Their conjecture proved to be correct. As they approached nearer, they
perceived that the noise appeared every moment more and more to their
right; and presently they saw, below them, a rapid current sweeping into
the Red River from the right bank. This was easily distinguished by the
white froth and bubbles that were carried along upon its surface, and
which had evidently been produced by some fall over which the water had
lately passed. The hunters now rowed fearlessly forward, and in a few
moments came opposite the _debouchure_ of the tributary stream, when a
considerable cascade appeared to their view, not thirty yards from the
Red River itself. The water foamed and dashed over a series of steps,
and then swept rapidly on, in a frothy current. They had entered this
current, and were now carried along with increased velocity, so that the
oarsmen suspended operations, and drew their paddles within the canoe.
A flock of swans now drew their attention. It was the largest flock
they had yet seen, numbering nearly a score of these noble birds,--a
sight, as Norman informed them, that was exceedingly rare even in the
most favoured haunts of the swan. Rarely are more than six or seven
seen together, and oftener only two or three. A grand _coup_ was
determined upon. Norman took up his own gun, and even Lucien, who
managed the stern oar, and guided the craft, also brought his piece--a
very small rifle--close to his hand, so that he might have a shot as
well as the others.
The canoe was directed in such a manner that, by merely keeping its head
down the stream, it would float to the spot where the swans were.
In a short while they approached very near the great birds, and our
hunters could see them sitting on the water, with upraised necks, gazing
in wonder at the torch. Whether they sounded their strange note was not
known, for the "sough" of the waterfall still echoed in the ears of the
canoemen, and they could not hear aught else.
Basil and Norman fired first, and simultaneously; but the louder
detonations of Francois' double-barrel, and even the tiny crack of
Lucien's rifle, were heard almost the instant after. Three of the birds
were killed by the volley, while a fourth, evidently "winged," was seen
to dive, and flutter down-stream. The others mounted into the air, and
disappeared in the darkness.
During the time occupied in this manoeuvre, the canoe, no longer guided
by Lucien's oar, had been caught by some eddy in the current, and swept
round stern-foremost. In this position the light no longer shone upon
the river ahead, but was thrown up-stream. All in a downward direction
was buried in deep darkness. Before the voyageurs could bring the canoe
back to its proper direction, a new sound fell upon their ears that
caused some of them to utter a cry of terror. It was the noise of
rushing water, but not that which they had already heard and passed. It
was before them in the river itself. Perhaps it was a cataract, and
_they were sweeping rapidly to its brink_!
The voice of Norman was heard exclaiming, "Hold with your oars!--the
rapids!--the rapids!" At the same time he himself was seen rising up
and stretching forward for an oar. All was now consternation; and the
movements of the party naturally consequent upon such a sudden panic
shook the little craft until her gunwales lipped the water. At the same
time she had swung round, until the light again showed the stream ahead,
and a horrid sight it was. Far as the eye could see was a reach of
foaming rapids. Dark points of rocks, and huge black boulders, thickly
scattered in the channel, jutted above the surface; and around and
against these, the water frothed and hissed furiously. There was no
cataract, it is true--there is none such in Red River--but for all
purposes of destruction the rapids before them were equally dangerous
and terrible to the eyes of our voyageurs. They no longer thought of
the swans. The dead were permitted to float down unheeded, the wounded
to make its escape. Their only thought was to stop the canoe before it
should be carried upon the rapids.
With this intent all had taken to the oars, but in spite of every
exertion they soon found that the light craft had got within the
influence of the strong current, and was sucked downward more rapidly
than ever. Their backward strokes were to no purpose.
In a few seconds the canoe had passed over the first stage of the
rapids, and shot down with the velocity of an arrow. A huge boulder lay
directly in the middle of the channel, and against this the current
broke with fury, laving its sides in foaming masses. The canoe was
hurried to this point; and as the light was again turned up-stream, none
of the voyageurs could see this dangerous rock. But they could not have
shunned it then. The boat had escaped from their control, and spun
round at will. The rock once more came under the light, but just as the
canoe, with a heavy crash, was driven against it.
For some moments the vessel, pressed by the current against the rock,
remained motionless, but her sides were stove in, and the water was
rushing through. The quick eye of Basil--cool in all crises of extreme
danger--perceived this at a glance. He saw that the canoe was a wreck,
and nothing remained but to save themselves as they best might.
Dropping the oar, and seizing his rifle, he called to his companions to
leap to the rock: and all together immediately sprang over the gunwale.
The dog Marengo followed after.
The canoe, thus lightened, heeled round into the current, and swept on.
The next moment she struck another rock, and was carried over on her
beams. The water then rushed in--the white bodies of the swans, with
the robes, blankets, and implements, rose on the wave; the blazing knots
were spilled from the pan, and fell with a hissing sound: and a few
seconds after they were extinguished, and all was darkness!