Before these fields were shorn and till'd,
Full to the brim our rivers flow'd;
The melody of waters fill'd
The fresh and boundless wood;
And torrents dash'd, and rivulets play'd,
And fountains spouted in the shade.
BRYANT.
It is generally known that the waters which flow into the southern side
of Ontario are, in general, narrow, sluggish, and deep. There are some
exceptions to this rule, for many of the rivers have rapids, or, as they
are termed in the language of the region, “rifts,” and some have falls.
Among the latter was the particular stream on which our adventurers were
now journeying. The Oswego is formed by the junction of the Oneida and
the Onondaga, both of which flow from lakes; and it pursues its way,
through a gently undulating country, some eight or ten miles, until it
reaches the margin of a sort of natural terrace, down which it tumbles
some ten or fifteen feet, to another level, across which it glides with
the silent, stealthy progress of deep water, until it throws its tribute
into the broad receptacle of the Ontario. The canoe in which Cap and his
party had travelled from Fort Stanwix, the last military station of the
Mohawk, lay by the side of this river, and into it the whole party now
entered, with the exception of Pathfinder, who remained on the land, in
order to shove the light vessel off.
“Let her starn drift down stream, Jasper,” said the man of the woods
to the young mariner of the lake, who had dispossessed Arrowhead of his
paddle and taken his own station as steersman; “let it go down with the
current. Should any of these infarnals, the Mingos, strike our trail, or
follow it to this point they will not fail to look for the signs in the
mud; and if they discover that we have left the shore with the nose of
the canoe up stream, it is a natural belief to think we went up stream.”
This direction was followed; and, giving a vigorous shove, the
Pathfinder, who was in the flower of his strength and activity, made a
leap, landing lightly, and without disturbing its equilibrium, in the
bow of the canoe. As soon as it had reached the centre of the river or
the strength of the current, the boat was turned, and it began to glide
noiselessly down the stream.
The vessel in which Cap and his niece had embarked for their long and
adventurous journey was one of the canoes of bark which the Indians are
in the habit of constructing, and which, by their exceeding lightness
and the ease with which they are propelled, are admirably adapted to a
navigation in which shoals, flood-wood, and other similar obstructions
so often occur. The two men who composed its original crew had several
times carried it, when emptied of its luggage, many hundred yards; and
it would not have exceeded the strength of a single man to lift its
weight. Still it was long, and, for a canoe, wide; a want of steadiness
being its principal defect in the eyes of the uninitiated. A few hours
practice, however, in a great measure remedied this evil, and both Mabel
and her uncle had learned so far to humor its movements, that they now
maintained their places with perfect composure; nor did the additional
weight of the three guides tax its power in any particular degree, the
breath of the rounded bottom allowing the necessary quantity of water
to be displaced without bringing the gunwale very sensibly nearer to the
surface of the stream. Its workmanship was neat; the timbers were small,
and secured by thongs; and the whole fabric, though it was so slight to
the eye, was probably capable of conveying double the number of persons
which it now contained.
Cap was seated on a low thwart, in the centre of the canoe; the Big
Serpent knelt near him. Arrowhead and his wife occupied places forward
of both, the former having relinquished his post aft. Mabel was half
reclining behind her uncle, while the Pathfinder and Eau-douce stood
erect, the one in the bow, and the other in the stern, each using a
paddle, with a long, steady, noiseless sweep. The conversation was
carried on in low tones, all the party beginning to feel the necessity
of prudence, as they drew nearer to the outskirts of the fort, and had
no longer the cover of the woods.
The Oswego, just at that place, was a deep dark stream of no great
width, its still, gloomy-looking current winding its way among
overhanging trees, which, in particular spots, almost shut out the light
of the heavens. Here and there some half-fallen giant of the forest lay
nearly across its surface, rendering care necessary to avoid the limbs;
and most of the distance, the lower branches and leaves of the trees
of smaller growth were laved by its waters. The picture so beautifully
described by our own admirable poet, and which we have placed at the
head of this chapter, was here realized; the earth fattened by the
decayed vegetation of centuries, and black with loam, the stream that
filled the banks nearly to overflowing, and the “fresh and boundless
wood,” being all as visible to the eye as the pen of Bryant has
elsewhere vividly presented them to the imagination. In short, the
entire scene was one of a rich and benevolent nature, before it had
been subjected to the uses and desires of man; luxuriant, wild, full
of promise, and not without the charm of the picturesque, even in its
rudest state. It will be remembered that this was in the year 175-, or
long before even speculation had brought any portion of western New York
within the bounds of civilization. At that distant day there were two
great channels of military communication between the inhabited portion
of the colony of New York and the frontiers which lay adjacent to the
Canadas,--that by Lakes Champlain and George, and that by means of the
Mohawk, Wood Creek, the Oneida, and the rivers we have been describing.
Along both these lines of communication military posts had been
established, though there existed a blank space of a hundred miles
between the last fort at the head of the Mohawk and the outlet of the
Oswego, which embraced most of the distance that Cap and Mabel had
journeyed under the protection of Arrowhead.
“I sometimes wish for peace again,” said the Pathfinder, “when one can
range the forest without searching for any other enemy than the beasts
and fishes. Ah's me! many is the day that the Sarpent, there, and I have
passed happily among the streams, living on venison, salmon, and trout
without thought of a Mingo or a scalp! I sometimes wish that them
blessed days might come back, for it is not my real gift to slay my own
kind. I'm sartain the Sergeant's daughter don't think me a wretch that
takes pleasure in preying on human natur'?”
As this remark, a sort of half interrogatory, was made, Pathfinder
looked behind him; and, though the most partial friend could scarcely
term his sunburnt and hard features handsome, even Mabel thought his
smile attractive, by its simple ingenuousness and the uprightness that
beamed in every lineament of his honest countenance.
“I do not think my father would have sent one like those you mention
to see his daughter through the wilderness,” the young woman answered,
returning the smile as frankly as it was given, but much more sweetly.
“That he wouldn't; the Sergeant is a man of feeling, and many is the
march and the fight that we have had--stood shoulder to shoulder in,
as _he_ would call it--though I always keep my limbs free when near a
Frencher or a Mingo.”
“You are, then, the young friend of whom my father has spoken so often
in his letters?”
“His _young_ friend--the Sergeant has the advantage of me by thirty
years; yes, he is thirty years my senior, and as many my better.”
“Not in the eyes of the daughter, perhaps, friend Pathfinder;” put in
Cap, whose spirits began to revive when he found the water once more
flowing around him. “The thirty years that you mention are not often
thought to be an advantage in the eyes of girls of nineteen.”
Mabel colored; and, in turning aside her face to avoid the looks of
those in the bow of the canoe, she encountered the admiring gaze of the
young man in the stern. As a last resource, her spirited but soft blue
eyes sought refuge in the water. Just at this moment a dull, heavy sound
swept up the avenue formed by the trees, borne along by a light air that
hardly produced a ripple on the water.
“That sounds pleasantly,” said Cap, pricking up his ears like a dog that
hears a distant baying; “it is the surf on the shores of your lake, I
suppose?”
“Not so--not so,” answered the Pathfinder; “it is merely this river
tumbling over some rocks half a mile below us.”
“Is there a fall in the stream?” demanded Mabel, a still brighter flush
glowing in her face.
“The devil! Master Pathfinder, or you, Mr. Eau-douce” (for so Cap began
to style Jasper), “had you not better give the canoe a sheer, and get
nearer to the shore? These waterfalls have generally rapids above them,
and one might as well get into the Maelstrom at once as to run into
their suction.”
“Trust to us, friend Cap,” answered Pathfinder; “we are but fresh-water
sailors, it is true, and I cannot boast of being much even of that; but
we understand rifts and rapids and cataracts; and in going down these we
shall do our endeavors not to disgrace our edication.”
“In going down!” exclaimed Cap. “The devil, man! you do not dream of
going down a waterfall in this egg shell of bark!”
“Sartain; the path lies over the falls, and it is much easier to shoot
them than to unload the canoe and to carry that and all it contains
around a portage of a mile by hand.”
Mabel turned her pallid countenance towards the young man in the stern
of the canoe; for, just at that moment, a fresh roar of the fall was
borne to her ears by a new current of the air, and it really sounded
terrific, now that the cause was understood.
“We thought that, by landing the females and the two Indians,” Jasper
quietly observed, “we three white men, all of whom are used to the
water, might carry the canoe over in safety, for we often shoot these
falls.”
“And we counted on you, friend mariner, as a mainstay,” said Pathfinder,
winking to Jasper over his shoulder; “for you are accustomed to see
waves tumbling about; and without some one to steady the cargo, all the
finery of the Sergeant's daughter might be washed into the river and be
lost.”
Cap was puzzled. The idea of going over a waterfall was, perhaps, more
serious in his eyes than it would have been in those of one totally
ignorant of all that pertained to boats; for he understood the power of
the element, and the total feebleness of man when exposed to its fury.
Still his pride revolted at the thought of deserting the boat, while
others not only steadily, but coolly, proposed to continue in it.
Notwithstanding the latter feeling, and his innate as well as acquired
steadiness in danger, he would probably have deserted his post; had not
the images of Indians tearing scalps from the human head taken so
strong hold of his fancy as to induce him to imagine the canoe a sort of
sanctuary.
“What is to be done with Magnet?” he demanded, affection for his niece
raising another qualm in his conscience. “We cannot allow Magnet to land
if there are enemy's Indians near?”
“Nay, no Mingo will be near the portage, for that is a spot too public
for their devilries,” answered the Pathfinder confidently. “Natur'
is natur', and it is an Indian's natur' to be found where he is least
expected. No fear of him on a beaten path; for he wishes to come upon
you when unprepared to meet him, and the fiery villains make it a point
to deceive you, one way or another. Sheer in, Eau-douce, and we will
land the Sergeant's daughter on the end of that log, where she can reach
the shore with a dry foot.”
The injunction was obeyed, and in a few minutes the whole party had
left the canoe, with the exception of Pathfinder and the two sailors.
Notwithstanding his professional pride, Cap would have gladly followed;
but he did not like to exhibit so unequivocal a weakness in the presence
of a fresh-water sailor.
“I call all hands to witness,” said he, as those who had landed moved
away, “that I do not look on this affair as anything more than canoeing
in the woods. There is no seamanship in tumbling over a waterfall,
which is a feat the greatest lubber can perform as well as the oldest
mariner.”
“Nay, nay, you needn't despise the Oswego Falls, neither,” put in
Pathfinder; “for, though they may not be Niagara, nor the Genessee,
nor the Cahoos, nor Glenn's, nor those on the Canada, they are narvous
enough for a new beginner. Let the Sergeant's daughter stand on yonder
rock, and she will see the manner in which we ignorant backwoodsmen get
over a difficulty that we can't get under. Now, Eau-douce, a steady hand
and a true eye, for all rests on you, seeing that we can count Master
Cap for no more than a passenger.”
The canoe was leaving the shore as he concluded, while Mabel went
hurriedly and trembling to the rock that had been pointed out, talking
to her companion of the danger her uncle so unnecessarily ran, while
her eyes were riveted on the agile and vigorous form of Eau-douce, as he
stood erect in the stern of the light boat, governing its movements. As
soon, however, as she reached a point where she got a view of the fall,
she gave an involuntary but suppressed scream, and covered her eyes.
At the next instant, the latter were again free, and the entranced girl
stood immovable as a statue, a scarcely breathing observer of all that
passed. The two Indians seated themselves passively on a log, hardly
looking towards the stream, while the wife of Arrowhead came near Mabel,
and appeared to watch the motions of the canoe with some such interest
as a child regards the leaps of a tumbler.
As soon as the boat was in the stream, Pathfinder sank on his knees,
continuing to use the paddle, though it was slowly, and in a manner not
to interfere with the efforts of his companion. The latter still stood
erect; and, as he kept his eye on some object beyond the fall, it was
evident that he was carefully looking for the spot proper for their
passage.
“Farther west, boy; farther west,” muttered Pathfinder; “there where
you see the water foam. Bring the top of the dead oak in a line with the
stem of the blasted hemlock.”
Eau-douce made no answer; for the canoe was in the centre of the stream,
with its head pointed towards the fall, and it had already begun to
quicken its motion by the increased force of the current. At that moment
Cap would cheerfully have renounced every claim to glory that could
possibly be acquired by the feat, to have been safe again on shore.
He heard the roar of the water, thundering, as it might be, behind a
screen, but becoming more and more distinct, louder and louder, and
before him he saw its line cutting the forest below, along which
the green and angry element seemed stretched and shining, as if the
particles were about to lose their principle of cohesion.
“Down with your helm, down with your helm, man!” he exclaimed, unable
any longer to suppress his anxiety, as the canoe glided towards the edge
of the fall.
“Ay, ay, down it is sure enough,” answered Pathfinder, looking behind
him for a single instant, with his silent, joyous laugh,--“down we go,
of a sartinty! Heave her starn up, boy; farther up with her starn!”
The rest was like the passage of the viewless wind. Eau-douce gave the
required sweep with his paddle, the canoe glanced into the channel, and
for a few seconds it seemed to Cap that he was tossing in a caldron. He
felt the bow of the canoe tip, saw the raging, foaming water careering
madly by his side, was sensible that the light fabric in which he
floated was tossed about like an egg-shell, and then, not less to his
great joy than to his surprise, he discovered that it was gliding across
the basin of still water below the fall, under the steady impulse of
Jasper's paddle.
The Pathfinder continued to laugh; but he arose from his knees, and,
searching for a tin pot and a horn spoon, he began deliberately to
measure the water that had been taken in the passage.
“Fourteen spoonfuls, Eau-douce; fourteen fairly measured spoonfuls. I
have, you must acknowledge, known you to go down with only ten.”
“Master Cap leaned so hard up stream,” returned Jasper seriously, “that
I had difficulty in trimming the canoe.”
“It may be so; no doubt it _was_ so, since you say it; but I have known
you go over with only ten.”
Cap now gave a tremendous hem, felt for his queue as if to ascertain its
safety, and then looked back in order to examine the danger he had
gone through. His safety is easily explained. Most of the river fell
perpendicularly ten or twelve feet; but near its centre the force of the
current had so far worn away the rock as to permit the water to shoot
through a narrow passage, at an angle of about forty or forty five
degrees. Down this ticklish descent the canoe had glanced, amid
fragments of broken rock, whirlpools, foam, and furious tossings of
the element, which an uninstructed eye would believe menaced inevitable
destruction to an object so fragile. But the very lightness of the
canoe had favored its descent; for, borne on the crest of the waves, and
directed by a steady eye and an arm full of muscle, it had passed like a
feather from one pile of foam to another, scarcely permitting its glossy
side to be wetted. There were a few rocks to be avoided, the proper
direction was to be rigidly observed, and the fierce current did the
rest. (1)
(1) Lest the reader suppose we are dealing purely in
fiction, the writer will add that he has known a long
thirty-two pounder carried over these same falls in perfect
safety.
To say that Cap was astonished would not be expressing half his
feelings; he felt awed: for the profound dread of rocks which most
seamen entertain came in aid of his admiration of the boldness of the
exploit. Still he was indisposed to express all he felt, lest it might
be conceding too much in favor of fresh water and inland navigation;
and no sooner had he cleared his throat with the afore-said hem, than he
loosened his tongue in the usual strain of superiority.
“I do not gainsay your knowledge of the channel, Master Eau-douce, and,
after all, to know the channel in such a place is the main point. I have
had cockswains with me who could come down that shoot too, if they only
knew the channel.”
“It isn't enough to know the channel,” said Pathfinder; “it needs narves
and skill to keep the canoe straight, and to keep her clear of the rocks
too. There isn't another boatman in all this region that can shoot the
Oswego, but Eau-douce there, with any sartainty; though, now and then,
one has blundered through. I can't do it myself unless by means of
Providence, and it needs Jasper's hand and eye to make sure of a dry
passage. Fourteen spoonfuls, after all, are no great matter, though
I wish it had been but ten, seeing that the Sergeant's daughter was a
looker-on.”
“And yet you conned the canoe; you told him how to head and how to
sheer.”
“Human frailty, master mariner; that was a little of white-skin natur'.
Now, had the Sarpent, yonder, been in the boat, not a word would he have
spoken, or thought would he have given to the public. An Indian knows how
to hold his tongue; but we white folk fancy we are always wiser than our
fellows. I'm curing myself fast of the weakness, but it needs time to
root up the tree that has been growing more than thirty years.”
“I think little of this affair, sir; nothing at all to speak my mind
freely. It's a mere wash of spray to shooting London Bridge which is
done every day by hundreds of persons, and often by the most delicate
ladies in the land. The king's majesty has shot the bridge in his royal
person.”
“Well, I want no delicate ladies or king's majesties (God bless 'em!) in
the canoe, in going over these falls; for a boat's breadth, either way,
may make a drowning matter of it. Eau-douce, we shall have to carry the
Sergeant's brother over Niagara yet, to show him what may be done in a
frontier.”
“The devil! Master Pathfinder, you must be joking now! Surely it is not
possible for a bark canoe to go over that mighty cataract?”
“You never were more mistaken, Master Cap, in your life. Nothing is
easier and many is the canoe I have seen go over it with my own eyes;
and if we both live I hope to satisfy you that the feat can be done. For
my part, I think the largest ship that ever sailed on the ocean might be
carried over, could she once get into the rapids.”
Cap did not perceive the wink which Pathfinder exchanged with Eau-douce,
and he remained silent for some time; for, sooth to say, he had never
suspected the possibility of going down Niagara, feasible as the thing
must appear to every one on a second thought, the real difficulty
existing in going up it.
By this time the party had reached the place where Jasper had left
his own canoe, concealed in the bushes, and they all re-embarked; Cap,
Jasper, and his niece in one boat and Pathfinder, Arrowhead, and the
wife of the latter in the other. The Mohican had already passed down the
banks of the river by land, looking cautiously and with the skill of his
people for the signs of an enemy.
The cheek of Mabel did not recover all its bloom until the canoe was
again in the current, down which it floated swiftly, occasionally
impelled by the paddle of Jasper. She witnessed the descent of the falls
with a degree of terror which had rendered her mute; but her fright
had not been so great as to prevent admiration of the steadiness of the
youth who directed the movement from blending with the passing terror.
In truth, one much less sensitive might have had her feelings awakened
by the cool and gallant air with which Eau-douce had accomplished this
clever exploit. He had stood firmly erect, notwithstanding the plunge;
and to those on the shore it was evident that, by a timely application
of his skill and strength, the canoe had received a sheer which alone
carried it clear of a rock over which the boiling water was leaping in
_jets d'eau_,--now leaving the brown stone visible, and now covering it
with a limpid sheet, as if machinery controlled the play of the element.
The tongue cannot always express what the eyes view; but Mabel saw
enough, even in that moment of fear, to blend for ever in her mind the
pictures presented by the plunging canoe and the unmoved steersman. She
admitted that insidious feeling which binds woman so strongly to man, by
feeling additional security in finding herself under his care; and, for
the first time since leaving Fort Stanwix, she was entirely at her ease
in the frail bark in which she travelled. As the other canoe kept quite
near her own, however, and the Pathfinder, by floating at her side,
was most in view, the conversation was principally maintained with
that person; Jasper seldom speaking unless addressed, and constantly
exhibiting a wariness in the management of his own boat, which might
have been remarked by one accustomed to his ordinarily confident,
careless manner.
“We know too well a woman's gifts to think of carrying the Sergeant's
daughter over the falls,” said Pathfinder, looking at Mabel, while he
addressed her uncle; “though I've been acquainted with some of her sex
that would think but little of doing the thing.”
“Mabel is faint-hearted, like her mother,” returned Cap; “and you did
well, friend, to humor her weakness. You will remember the child has
never been at sea.”
“No, no, it was easy to discover that; by your own fearlessness, any one
might have seen how little you cared about the matter. I went over once
with a raw hand, and he jumped out of the canoe just as it tipped, and
you many judge what a time he had of it.”
“What became of the poor fellow?” asked Cap, scarcely knowing how to
take the other's manner, which was so dry, while it was so simple, that
a less obtuse subject than the old sailor might well have suspected its
sincerity. “One who has passed the place knows how to feel for him.”
“He was a _poor_ fellow, as you say; and a poor frontierman too, though
he came out to show his skill among us ignoranters. What became of him?
Why, he went down the falls topsy-turvey like, as would have happened to
a court-house or a fort.”
“If it should jump out of at canoe,” interrupted Jasper, smiling,
though he was evidently more disposed than his friend to let the
passage of the falls be forgotten.
“The boy is right,” rejoined Pathfinder, laughing in Mabel's face, the
canoes being now so near that they almost touched; “he is sartainly
right. But you have not told us what you think of the leap we took?”
“It was perilous and bold,” said Mabel; “while looking at it, I could
have wished that it had not been attempted, though, now it is over, I
can admire its boldness and the steadiness with which it was made.”
“Now, do not think that we did this thing to set ourselves off in female
eyes. It may be pleasant to the young to win each other's good opinions
by doing things which may seem praiseworthy and bold; but neither
Eau-douce nor myself is of that race. My natur' has few turns in it, and
is a straight natur'; nor would it be likely to lead me into a vanity of
this sort while out on duty. As for Jasper, he would sooner go over the
Oswego Falls, without a looker-on, than do it before a hundred pair of
eyes. I know the lad well from much consorting, and I am sure he is not
boastful or vainglorious.”
Mabel rewarded the scout with a smile, which served to keep the canoes
together for some time longer; for the sight of youth and beauty was so
rare on that remote frontier, that even the rebuked and self-mortified
feelings of this wanderer of the forest were sensibly touched by the
blooming loveliness of the girl.
“We did it for the best,” Pathfinder continued; “'twas all for the best.
Had we waited to carry the canoe across the portage, time would have
been lost, and nothing is so precious as time when you are mistrustful
of Mingos.”
“But we have little to fear now. The canoes move swiftly, and two hours,
you have said, will carry us down to the fort.”
“It shall be a cunning Iroquois who hurts a hair of your head, pretty
one; for all here are bound to the Sergeant, and most, I think, to
yourself, to see you safe from harm. Ha, Eau-douce! what is that in the
river, at the lower turn, yonder, beneath the bushes,--I mean standing
on the rock?”
“'Tis the Big Serpent, Pathfinder; he is making signs to us in a way I
don't understand.”
“'Tis the Sarpent, as sure as I'm a white man, and he wishes us to drop
in nearer to his shore. Mischief is brewing, or one of his deliberation
and steadiness would never take this trouble. Courage, all! We are men,
and must meet devilry as becomes our color and our callings. Ah, I never
knew good come of boasting! And here, just as I was vaunting of our
safety, comes danger to give me the lie.”