And is this--Yarrow?--this the stream
Of which my fancy cherish'd
So faithfully a waking dream?
An image that hath perish'd?
Oh that some minstrel's harp were near,
To utter notes of gladness,
And chase this silence from the air,
That fills my heart with sadness.
WORDSWORTH.
THE scene was not without its sublimity, and the ardent, generous-minded
Mabel felt her blood thrill in her veins and her cheeks flush, as
the canoe shot into the strength of the stream, to quit the spot. The
darkness of the night had lessened, by the dispersion of the clouds;
but the overhanging woods rendered the shore so obscure, that the boats
floated down the current in a belt of gloom that effectually secured
them from detection. Still, there was necessarily a strong feeling of
insecurity in all on board them; and even Jasper, who by this time began
to tremble, in behalf of the girl, at every unusual sound that arose
from the forest, kept casting uneasy glances around him as he drifted on
in company. The paddle was used lightly, and only with exceeding care;
for the slightest sound in the breathing stillness of that hour and
place might apprise the watchful ears of the Iroquois of their position.
All these accessories added to the impressive grandeur of her situation,
and contributed to render the moment much the most exciting which
had ever occurred in the brief existence of Mabel Dunham. Spirited,
accustomed to self-reliance, and sustained by the pride of considering
herself a soldier's daughter, she could hardly be said to be under the
influence of fear, yet her heart often beat quicker than common, her
fine blue eye lighted with an exhibition of a resolution that was wasted
in the darkness, and her quickened feelings came in aid of the real
sublimity that belonged to the scene and to the incidents of the night.
“Mabel!” said the suppressed voice of Jasper, as the two canoes floated
so near each other that the hand of the young man held them together,
“you have no dread? You trust freely to our care and willingness to
protect you?”
“I am a soldier's daughter, as you know, Jasper Western, and ought to be
ashamed to confess fear.”
“Rely on me--on us all. Your uncle, Pathfinder, the Delaware, were the
poor fellow here, I myself, will risk everything rather than harm should
reach you.”
“I believe you, Jasper,” returned the girl, her hand unconsciously
playing in the water. “I know that my uncle loves me, and will never
think of himself until he has first thought of me; and I believe you are
all my father's friends, and would willingly assist his child. But I am
not so feeble and weak-minded as you may think; for, though only a girl
from the towns, and, like most of that class, a little disposed to see
danger where there is none, I promise you, Jasper, no foolish fears of
mine shall stand in the way of your doing your duty.”
“The Sergeant's daughter is right, and she is worthy of being honest
Thomas Dunham's child,” put in the Pathfinder. “Ah's me, pretty one!
many is the time that your father and I have scouted and marched
together on the flanks and rear of the enemy, in nights darker than
this, and that, too, when we did not know but the next moment would lead
us into a bloody ambushment. I was at his side when he got the wound in
his shoulder; and the honest fellow will tell you, when you meet, the
manner in which we contrived to cross the river which lay in our rear,
in order to save his scalp.”
“He has told me,” said Mabel, with more energy perhaps than her
situation rendered prudent. “I have his letters, in which he has
mentioned all that, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the
service. God will remember it, Pathfinder; and there is no gratitude
that you can ask of the daughter which she will not cheerfully repay for
her father's life.”
“Ay, that is the way with all your gentle and pure-hearted creatures.
I have seen some of you before, and have heard of others. The Sergeant
himself has talked to me of his own young days, and of your mother,
and of the manner in which he courted her, and of all the crossings and
disappointments, until he succeeded at last.”
“My mother did not live long to repay him for what he did to win her,”
said Mabel, with a trembling lip.
“So he tells me. The honest Sergeant has kept nothing back; for, being
so many years my senior, he has looked on me, in our many scoutings
together, as a sort of son.”
“Perhaps, Pathfinder,” observed Jasper, with a huskiness in his voice
that defeated the attempt at pleasantry, “he would be glad to have you
for one in reality.”
“And if he did, Eau-douce, where would be the sin of it? He knows what I
am on a trail or a scout, and he has seen me often face to face with the
Frenchers. I have sometimes thought, lad, that we all ought to seek for
wives; for the man that lives altogether in the woods, and in company
with his enemies or his prey, gets to lose some of the feeling of kind
in the end. It is not easy to dwell always in the presence of God and
not feel the power of His goodness. I have attended church-sarvice in
the garrisons, and tried hard, as becomes a true soldier, to join in
the prayers; for, though no enlisted sarvant of the king, I fight
his battles and sarve his cause, and so I have endeavored to worship
garrison-fashion, but never could raise within me the solemn feelings
and true affection that I feel when alone with God in the forest. There
I seem to stand face to face with my Master; all around me is fresh and
beautiful, as it came from His hand; and there is no nicety or doctrine
to chill the feelings. No no; the woods are the true temple after all,
for there the thoughts are free to mount higher even than the clouds.”
“You speak the truth, Master Pathfinder,” said Cap, “and a truth that
all who live much in solitude know. What, for instance, is the reason
that seafaring men in general are so religious and conscientious in all
they do, but the fact that they are so often alone with Providence, and
have so little to do with the wickedness of the land. Many and many is
the time that I have stood my watch, under the equator perhaps, or in
the Southern Ocean, when the nights are lighted up with the fires of
heaven; and that is the time, I can tell you, my hearties, to bring a
man to his bearings in the way of his sins. I have rattled down mine
again and again under such circumstances, until the shrouds and lanyards
of conscience have fairly creaked with the strain. I agree with you,
Master Pathfinder, therefore, in saying, if you want a truly religious
man, go to sea, or go into the woods.”
“Uncle, I thought seamen had little credit generally for their respect
for religion?”
“All d----d slander, girl; for all the essentials of Christianity the
seaman beats the landsman hand-over-hand.”
“I will not answer for all this, Master Cap,” returned Pathfinder; “but
I daresay some of it may be true. I want no thunder and lightning to
remind me of my God, nor am I as apt to bethink on most of all His
goodness in trouble and tribulations as on a calm, solemn, quiet day in
a forest, when His voice is heard in the creaking of a dead branch or in
the song of a bird, as much in my ears at least as it is ever heard in
uproar and gales. How is it with you, Eau-douce? you face the tempests
as well as Master Cap, and ought to know something of the feelings of
storms.”
“I fear that I am too young and too inexperienced to be able to say much
on such a subject,” modestly answered Jasper.
“But you have your feelings!” said Mabel quickly. “You cannot--no one
can live among such scenes without feeling how much they ought to trust
in God!”
“I shall not belie my training so much as to say I do not sometimes
think of these things, but I fear it is not so often or so much as I
ought.”
“Fresh water,” resumed Cap pithily; “you are not to expect too much of
the young man, Mabel. I think they call you sometimes by a name which
would insinuate all this: Eau-de-vie, is it not?”
“Eau-douce,” quietly replied Jasper, who from sailing on the lake had
acquired a knowledge of French, as well as of several of the Indian
dialects. “It is a name the Iroquois have given me to distinguish me
from some of my companions who once sailed upon the sea, and are fond of
filling the ears of the natives with stories of their great salt-water
lakes.”
“And why shouldn't they? I daresay they do the savages no harm. Ay, ay,
Eau-deuce; that must mean the white brandy, which may well enough be
called the deuce, for deuced stuff it is!”
“The signification of Eau-douce is sweet-water, and it is the manner
in which the French express fresh-water,” rejoined Jasper, a little
nettled.
“And how the devil do they make water out of Eau-in-deuce, when it means
brandy in Eau-de-vie? Besides, among seamen, Eau always means brandy;
and Eau-de-vie, brandy of a high proof. I think nothing of your
ignorance, young man; for it is natural to your situation, and cannot
be helped. If you will return with me, and make a v'y'ge or two on the
Atlantic, it will serve you a good turn the remainder of your days; and
Mabel there, and all the other young women near the coast, will think
all the better of you should you live to be as old as one of the trees
in this forest.”
“Nay, nay,” interrupted the single-hearted and generous guide; “Jasper
wants not for friends in this region, I can assure you; and though
seeing the world, according to his habits, may do him good as well as
another, we shall think none the worse of him if he never quits us.
Eau-douce or Eau-de-vie, he is a brave, true-hearted youth, and I always
sleep as soundly when he is on the watch as if I was up and stirring
myself; ay, and for that matter, sounder too. The Sergeant's daughter
here doesn't believe it necessary for the lad to go to sea in order to
make a man of him, or one who is worthy to be respected and esteemed.”
Mabel made no reply to this appeal, and she even looked towards the
western shore, although the darkness rendered the natural movements
unnecessary to conceal her face. But Jasper felt that there was a
necessity for his saying something, the pride of youth and manhood
revolting at the idea of his being in a condition not to command the
respect of his fellows or the smiles of his equals of the other sex.
Still he was unwilling to utter aught that might be considered harsh
to the uncle of Mabel; and his self-command was perhaps more creditable
than his modesty and spirit.
“I pretend not to things I don't possess,” he said, “and lay no claim to
any knowledge of the ocean or of navigation. We steer by the stars
and the compass on these lakes, running from headland to headland; and
having little need of figures and calculations, make no use of them. But
we have our claims notwithstanding, as I have often heard from those who
have passed years on the ocean. In the first place, we have always
the land aboard, and much of the time on a lee-shore, and that I have
frequently heard makes hardy sailors. Our gales are sudden and severe,
and we are compelled to run for our ports at all hours.”
“You have your leads,” interrupted Cap.
“They are of little use, and are seldom cast.”
“The deep-seas.”
“I have heard of such things, but confess I never saw one.”
“Oh! deuce, with a vengeance. A trader, and no deep-sea! Why, boy, you
cannot pretend to be anything of a mariner. Who the devil ever heard of
a seaman without his deep-sea?”
“I do not pretend to any particular skill, Master Cap.”
“Except in shooting falls, Jasper, except in shooting falls and rifts,”
said Pathfinder, coming to the rescue; “in which business even you,
Master Cap, must allow he has some handiness. In my judgment, every man
is to be esteemed or condemned according to his gifts; and if Master
Cap is useless in running the Oswego Falls, I try to remember that he is
useful when out of sight of land; and if Jasper be useless when out of
sight of land, I do not forget that he has a true eye and steady hand
when running the falls.”
“But Jasper is not useless--would not be useless when out of sight of
land,” said Mabel, with a spirit and energy that caused her clear sweet
voice to be startling amid the solemn stillness of that extraordinary
scene. “No one can be useless there who can do so much here, is what I
mean; though, I daresay, he is not as well acquainted with ships as my
uncle.”
“Ay, bolster each other up in your ignorance,” returned Cap with a
sneer. “We seamen are so much out-numbered when ashore that it is seldom
we get our dues; but when you want to be defended, or trade is to be
carried on, there is outcry enough for us.”
“But, uncle, landsmen do not come to attack our coasts; so that seamen
only meet seamen.”
“So much for ignorance! Where are all the enemies that have landed in
this country, French and English, let me inquire, niece?”
“Sure enough, where are they?” ejaculated Pathfinder. “None can tell
better than we who dwell in the woods, Master Cap. I have often followed
their line of march by bones bleaching in the rain, and have found their
trail by graves, years after they and their pride had vanished together.
Generals and privates, they lay scattered throughout the land, so many
proofs of what men are when led on by their love of great names and the
wish to be more than their fellows.”
“I must say, Master Pathfinder, that you sometimes utter opinions
that are a little remarkable for a man who lives by the rifle; seldom
snuffing the air but he smells gunpowder, or turning out of his berth
but to bear down on an enemy.”
“If you think I pass my days in warfare against my kind, you know
neither me nor my history. The man that lives in the woods and on the
frontiers must take the chances of the things among which he dwells. For
this I am not accountable, being but an humble and powerless hunter and
scout and guide. My real calling is to hunt for the army, on its marches
and in times of peace; although I am more especially engaged in the
service of one officer, who is now absent in the settlements, where I
never follow him. No, no; bloodshed and warfare are not my real gifts,
but peace and mercy. Still, I must face the enemy as well as another;
and as for a Mingo, I look upon him as man looks on a snake, a creatur'
to be put beneath the heel whenever a fitting occasion offers.”
“Well, well; I have mistaken your calling, which I had thought
as regularly warlike as that of a ship's gunner. There is my
brother-in-law, now; he has been a soldier since he was sixteen, and he
looks upon his trade as every way as respectable as that of a seafaring
man, a point I hardly think it worth while to dispute with him.”
“My father has been taught to believe that it is honorable to carry
arms,” said Mabel, “for his father was a soldier before him.”
“Yes, yes,” resumed the guide; “most of the Sergeant's gifts are
martial, and he looks at most things in this world over the barrel of
his musket. One of his notions, now, is to prefer a king's piece to a
regular, double-sighted, long-barrelled rifle. Such conceits will come
over men from long habit; and prejudice is, perhaps, the commonest
failing of human natur'.”
While the desultory conversation just related had been carried on in
subdued voices, the canoes were dropping slowly down with the current
within the deep shadows of the western shore, the paddles being used
merely to preserve the desired direction and proper positions. The
strength of the stream varied materially, the water being seemingly
still in places, while in other reaches it flowed at a rate exceeding
two or even three miles in the hour. On the rifts it even dashed forward
with a velocity that was appalling to the unpractised eye. Jasper was of
opinion that they might drift down with the current to the mouth of the
river in two hours from the time they left the shore, and he and the
Pathfinder had agreed on the expediency of suffering the canoes to float
of themselves for a time, or at least until they had passed the first
dangers of their new movement. The dialogue had been carried on in
voices, too, guardedly low; for though the quiet of deep solitude
reigned in that vast and nearly boundless forest, nature was speaking
with her thousand tongues in the eloquent language of night in a
wilderness. The air sighed through ten thousand trees, the water
rippled, and at places even roared along the shores; and now and then
was heard the creaking of a branch or a trunk, as it rubbed against
some object similar to itself, under the vibrations of a nicely balanced
body. All living sounds had ceased. Once, it is true, the Pathfinder
fancied he heard the howl of a distant wolf, of which a few prowled
through these woods; but it was a transient and doubtful cry, that might
possibly have been attributed to the imagination. When he desired his
companions, however, to cease talking, his vigilant ear had caught the
peculiar sound which is made by the parting of a dried branch of a tree
and which, if his senses did not deceive him, came from the western
shore. All who are accustomed to that particular sound will understand
how readily the ear receives it, and how easy it is to distinguish the
tread which breaks the branch from every other noise of the forest.
“There is the footstep of a man on the bank,” said Pathfinder to Jasper,
speaking in neither a whisper nor yet in a voice loud enough to be
heard at any distance. “Can the accursed Iroquois have crossed the river
already, with their arms, and without a boat?”
“It may be the Delaware. He would follow us, of course down this bank,
and would know where to look for us. Let me draw closer into the shore,
and reconnoitre.”
“Go boy but be light with the paddle, and on no account venture ashore
on an onsartainty.”
“Is this prudent?” demanded Mabel, with an impetuosity that rendered her
incautious in modulating her sweet voice.
“Very imprudent, if you speak so loud, fair one. I like your voice,
which is soft and pleasing, after the listening so long to the tones of
men; but it must not be heard too much, or too freely, just now. Your
father, the honest Sergeant, will tell you, when you meet him, that
silence is a double virtue on a trail. Go, Jasper, and do justice to
your own character for prudence.”
Ten anxious minutes succeeded the disappearance of the canoe of Jasper,
which glided away from that of the Pathfinder so noiselessly, that
it had been swallowed up in the gloom before Mabel allowed herself to
believe the young man would really venture alone on a service which
struck her imagination as singularly dangerous. During this time, the
party continued to float with the current, no one speaking, and, it
might almost be said, no one breathing, so strong was the general desire
to catch the minutest sound that should come from the shore. But the
same solemn, we might, indeed, say sublime, quiet reigned as before; the
washing of the water, as it piled up against some slight obstruction,
and the sighing of the trees, alone interrupting the slumbers of the
forest. At the end of the period mentioned, the snapping of dried
branches was again faintly heard, and the Pathfinder fancied that the
sound of smothered voices reached him.
“I may be mistaken,” he said, “for the thoughts often fancy what the
heart wishes; but these were notes like the low tones of the Delaware.”
“Do the dead of the savages ever walk?” demanded Cap.
“Ay, and run too, in their happy hunting-grounds, but nowhere else. A
red-skin finishes with the 'arth, after the breath quits the body. It
is not one of his gifts to linger around his wigwam when his hour has
passed.”
“I see some object on the water,” whispered Mabel, whose eye had not
ceased to dwell on the body of gloom, with close intensity, since the
disappearance of Jasper.
“It is the canoe,” returned the guide, greatly relieved. “All must be
safe, or we should have heard from the lad.”
In another minute the two canoes, which became visible to those they
carried only as they drew near each other, again floated side by side,
and the form of Jasper was recognized at the stern of his own boat. The
figure of a second man was seated in the bow; and, as the young sailor
so wielded his paddle as to bring the face of his companion near the
eyes of the Pathfinder and Mabel, they both recognized the person of the
Delaware.
“Chingachgook--my brother!” said the guide in the dialect of the other's
people, a tremor shaking his voice that betrayed the strength of his
feelings. “Chief of the Mohicans! My heart is very glad. Often have we
passed through blood and strife together, but I was afraid it was never
to be so again.”
“Hugh! The Mingos are squaws! Three of their scalps hang at my girdle.
They do not know how to strike the Great Serpent of the Delawares.
Their hearts have no blood; and their thoughts are on their return path,
across the waters of the Great Lake.”
“Have you been among them, chief? and what has become of the warrior who
was in the river?”
“He has turned into a fish, and lies at the bottom with the eels! Let
his brothers bait their hooks for him. Pathfinder, I have counted the
enemy, and have touched their rifles.”
“Ah, I thought he would be venturesome!” exclaimed the guide in English.
“The risky fellow has been in the midst of them, and has brought us back
their whole history. Speak, Chingachgook, and I will make our friends as
knowing as ourselves.”
The Delaware now related in a low earnest manner the substance of all
his discoveries, since he was last seen struggling with his foe in the
river. Of the fate of his antagonist he said no more, it not being usual
for a warrior to boast in his more direct and useful narratives. As
soon as he had conquered in that fearful strife, however, he swam to
the eastern shore, landed with caution, and wound his way in amongst the
Iroquois, concealed by the darkness, undetected, and, in the main, even
unsuspected. Once, indeed, he had been questioned; but answering that he
was Arrowhead, no further inquiries were made. By the passing remarks,
he soon ascertained that the party was out expressly to intercept Mabel
and her uncle, concerning whose rank, however, they had evidently been
deceived. He also ascertained enough to justify the suspicion that
Arrowhead had betrayed them to their enemies, for some motive that it
was not now easy to reach, as he had not yet received the reward of his
services.
Pathfinder communicated no more of this intelligence to his companions
than he thought might relieve their apprehensions, intimating, at the
same time, that now was the moment for exertion, the Iroquois not having
yet entirely recovered from the confusion created by their losses.
“We shall find them at the rift, I make no manner of doubt,” continued
he; “and there it will be our fate to pass them, or to fall into their
hands. The distance to the garrison will then be so short, that I have
been thinking of a plan of landing with Mabel myself, that I may take
her in, by some of the by-ways, and leave the canoes to their chances in
the rapids.”
“It will never succeed, Pathfinder,” eagerly interrupted Jasper. “Mabel
is not strong enough to tramp the woods in a night like this. Put her in
my skiff, and I will lose my life, or carry her through the rift safely,
dark as it is.”
“No doubt you will, lad; no one doubts your willingness to do anything
to serve the Sergeant's daughter; but it must be the eye of Providence,
and not your own, that will take you safely through the Oswego rift in a
night like this.”
“And who will lead her safely to the garrison if she land? Is not the
night as dark on shore as on the water? or do you think I know less of
my calling than you know of yours?”
“Spiritedly said, lad; but if I should lose my way in the dark--and
I believe no man can say truly that such a thing ever yet happened to
me--but, if I _should_ lose my way, no other harm would come of it than
to pass a night in the forest; whereas a false turn of the paddle, or
a broad sheer of the canoe, would put you and the young woman into the
river, out of which it is more than probable the Sergeant's daughter
would never come alive.”
“I will leave it to Mabel herself; I am certain that she will feel more
secure in the canoe.”
“I have great confidence in you both,” answered the girl; “and have no
doubts that either will do all he can to prove to my father how much he
values him; but I confess I should not like to quit the canoe, with the
certainty we have of there being enemies like those we have seen in the
forest. But my uncle can decide for me in this matter.”
“I have no liking for the woods,” said Cap, “while one has a clear drift
like this on the river. Besides, Master Pathfinder, to say nothing of
the savages, you overlook the sharks.”
“Sharks! Who ever heard of sharks in the wilderness?”
“Ay! Sharks, or bears, or wolves--no matter what you call a thing, so it
has the mind and power to bite.”
“Lord, lord, man! Do you dread any creatur' that is to be found in the
American forest? A catamount is a skeary animal, I will allow, but then
it is nothing in the hands of a practysed hunter. Talk of the Mingos and
their devilries if you will; but do not raise a false alarm about bears
and wolves.”
“Ay, ay, Master Pathfinder, this is all well enough for you, who
probably know the name of every creature you would meet. Use is
everything, and it makes a man bold when he might otherwise be bashful.
I have known seamen in the low latitudes swim for hours at a time among
sharks fifteen or twenty feet long.”
“This is extraordinary!” exclaimed Jasper, who had not yet acquired that
material part of his trade, the ability to spin a yarn. “I have always
heard that it was certain death to venture in the water among sharks.”
“I forgot to say, that the lads always took capstan-bars, or gunners'
handspikes, or crows with them, to rap the beasts over the noses if they
got to be troublesome. No, no, I have no liking for bears and wolves,
though a whale, in my eye, is very much the same sort of fish as a red
herring after it is dried and salted. Mabel and I had better stick to
the canoe.”
“Mabel would do well to change canoes,” added Jasper. “This of mine is
empty, and even Pathfinder will allow that my eye is surer than his own
on the water.”
“That I will, cheerfully, boy. The water belongs to your gifts, and no
one will deny that you have improved them to the utmost. You are right
enough in believing that the Sergeant's daughter will be safer in your
canoe than in this; and though I would gladly keep her near myself, I
have her welfare too much at heart not to give her honest advice. Bring
your canoe close alongside, Jasper, and I will give you what you must
consider as a precious treasure.”
“I do so consider it,” returned the youth, not losing a moment in
complying with the request; when Mabel passed from one canoe to the
other taking her seat on the effects which had hitherto composed its
sole cargo.
As soon as this arrangement was made, the canoes separated a short
distance, and the paddles were used, though with great care to avoid
making any noise. The conversation gradually ceased; and as the dreaded
rift was approached, all became impressed with the gravity of the
moment. That their enemies would endeavor to reach this point before
them was almost certain; and it seemed so little probable any one
should attempt to pass it, in the profound obscurity which reigned, that
Pathfinder was confident parties were on both sides of the river, in the
hope of intercepting them when they might land. He would not have made
the proposal he did had he not felt sure of his own ability to convert
this very anticipation of success into a means of defeating the plans of
the Iroquois. As the arrangement now stood, however, everything depended
on the skill of those who guided the canoes; for should either hit a
rock, if not split asunder, it would almost certainly be upset, and then
would come not only all the hazards of the river itself, but, for Mabel,
the certainty of falling into the hands of her pursuers. The utmost
circumspection consequently became necessary, and each one was too much
engrossed with his own thoughts to feel a disposition to utter more than
was called for by the exigencies of the case.
At the canoes stole silently along, the roar of the rift became audible,
and it required all the fortitude of Cap to keep his seat, while these
boding sounds were approached, amid a darkness which scarcely permitted
a view of the outlines of the wooded shore and of the gloomy vault
above his head. He retained a vivid impression of the falls, and his
imagination was not now idle in swelling the dangers of the rift to a
level with those of the headlong descent he had that day made, and even
to increase them, under the influence of doubt and uncertainty. In
this, however, the old mariner was mistaken, for the Oswego Rift and the
Oswego Falls are very different in their characters and violence; the
former being no more than a rapid, that glances among shallows and
rocks, while the latter really deserved the name it bore, as has been
already shown.
Mabel certainly felt distrust and apprehension; but her entire situation
was so novel, and her reliance on her guide so great, that she retained
a self-command which might not have existed had she clearer perceptions
of the truth, or been better acquainted with the helplessness of men
when placed in opposition to the power and majesty of Nature.
“Is that the spot you have mentioned?” she said to
Jasper, when the roar of the rift first came distinctly on her ears.
“It is; and I beg you to have confidence in me. We are not old
acquaintances, Mabel; but we live many days in one, in this wilderness.
I think, already, that I have known you years!”
“And I do not feel as if you were a stranger to me, Jasper. I have every
reliance on your skill, as well as on your disposition to serve me.”
“We shall see, we shall see. Pathfinder is striking the rapids too near
the centre of the river; the bed of the water is closer to the eastern
shore; but I cannot make him hear me now. Hold firmly to the canoe,
Mabel, and fear nothing.”
At the next moment the swift current had sucked them into the rift, and
for three or four minutes the awe-struck, rather than the alarmed, girl
saw nothing around her but sheets of glancing foam, heard nothing but
the roar of waters. Twenty times did the canoe appear about to dash
against some curling and bright wave that showed itself even amid that
obscurity; and as often did it glide away again unharmed, impelled by
the vigorous arm of him who governed its movements. Once, and once only,
did Jasper seem to lose command of his frail bark, during which brief
space it fairly whirled entirely round; but by a desperate effort he
brought it again under control, recovered the lost channel, and was soon
rewarded for all his anxiety by finding himself floating quietly in
the deep water below the rapids, secure from every danger, and without
having taken in enough of the element to serve for a draught.
“All is over, Mabel,” the young man cried cheerfully. “The danger is
past, and you may now indeed hope to meet your father this very night.”
“God be praised! Jasper, we shall owe this great happiness to you.”
“The Pathfinder may claim a full share in the merit; but what has become
of the other canoe?”
“I see something near us on the water; is it not the boat of our
friends?”
A few strokes of the paddle brought Jasper to the side of the object in
question: it was the other canoe, empty and bottom upwards. No sooner
did the young man ascertain this fact, than he began to search for the
swimmers, and, to his great joy, Cap was soon discovered drifting down
with the current; the old seaman preferring the chances of drowning to
those of landing among savages. He was hauled into the canoe, though not
without difficulty, and then the search ended; for Jasper was persuaded
that the Pathfinder would wade to the shore, the water being shallow, in
preference to abandoning his beloved rifle.
The remainder of the passage was short, though made amid darkness and
doubt. After a short pause, a dull roaring sound was heard, which
at times resembled the mutterings of distant thunder, and then
again brought with it the washing of waters. Jasper announced to his
companions that they now heard the surf of the lake. Low curved spits
of land lay before them, into the bay formed by one of which the canoe
glided, and then it shot up noiselessly upon a gravelly beach. The
transition that followed was so hurried and great, that Mabel scarcely
knew what passed. In the course of a few minutes, however, sentinels had
been passed, a gate was opened, and the agitated girl found herself in
the arms of a parent who was almost a stranger to her.