SHOOTING THE LONGUE SEAUT.
That evening the boys visited the "Springs" proper, and drank of the
waters which were supposed to be of a quality to restore all wasted
faculties of mind and body. The taste, however, was anything but
agreeable to the lads, which was explained to them by the fact that
none of their vital forces had been wasted, and, therefore, there was
no craving for that which would supply their deficiencies.
They were interested in the stories which were told them of the good
old times before the introduction of railroads and similar modern
contrivances, when people from far and near used to journey to the
springs in pursuit of restored youth and strength, stories which
"reminded" Bob of the efforts of the early discoverers to find the
fountain of youth in the far-off land of Florida.
He was compelled to postpone his lecture, however, for the boys
decided to retire at once, and soon all four were sleeping soundly in
the "tavern" which Ethan had recommended.
Only the gray of the dawn had appeared when they were summoned in the
morning, and hastily dressing, they made their way to the dining room,
where an early breakfast was served them. Their carriage was in
waiting for them even at that early hour, and soon they were riding
back to the Landing, where boats and boatmen were to be ready for
them, if Ethan's plans were fulfilled.
The driver explained to them on their way that the day was not to be a
very good one for fishing, for it gave promise of being bright and
intensely warm. The latter prophecy was the more difficult to believe,
for the boys felt the chill of the early morning, although each had
brought an overcoat for protection.
The impression of the great age of the region seemed to be stronger in
the early hours even than it had been in the preceding evening. The
stillness was almost oppressive. Anything like the bustle and stir of
the great city was almost like the memory of a dream. Here, at least,
were peace and quiet, and even the problems of life itself were all
remote and vague. As they drew nearer the river, from some of the
farmhouses the occupants came forth and stopped for a moment to gaze
at the passing carriage, and then turned to the barnyards where the
cattle were waiting to be milked. Men and women, boys and girls, all
came forth to engage in this occupation, and all alike seemed to have
been there for years, and to belong to the very antiquity of the
region.
Keenly as the boys were enjoying the ride, they all seemed to be
disinclined to talk, and the first break in the silence came when the
flash of the great river was perceived beyond the distant trees. Soon
they came to a spot from which the swiftly moving waters could be more
clearly seen, and then their driver turned into the road which ran
along the bank, and the river was all the time within sight.
It was a marvellously impressive scene. The glory of the coming day
was almost upon them. The fertile farm-lands, the thriving farmers,
the cattle huddled together near the barns, or already trailing off
for the distant pastures, driven, perhaps, by some barefooted boy; the
evidences of life and civilization on all sides, were supplemented by
the swiftly moving waters of the mighty river from which they were
seldom able to remove their gaze.
It was not long afterward when they arrived at the Landing, and all
other thoughts were forgotten in the eagerness with which they looked
before them to discover some trace of their boatmen.
These were speedily found, and as they declared that all things were
in readiness for the expedition of the day, our boys were soon on
board the skiffs, which were as beautiful and shapely as those they
had seen and used among the Thousand Islands.
Jock and Bob were assigned to one skiff, in which their boatman,
George, was waiting. He was a young man of quiet manners, and his
companions at once had a feeling of implicit confidence in him as he
quietly greeted them. Ben and Bert were in the other skiff, and with
their boatman, a much older man than George, were the first to leave
the dock, and soon had disappeared from the sight of their friends as
they moved swiftly down the river.
Jock and Bob soon followed, and as George rowed out with the current,
he said, quietly, "You might as well put out your lines, boys. You
never can tell what'll happen."
He rested a moment upon his oars, and after baiting the hooks with
frogs, cast the lines into the water and, taking up his oars, again
held the boat closer to the shore, and prevented it from moving too
fast in the swift current.
The rods, as Ethan had foretold, were very different from those which
the boys had previously used. They were short, stout hickory poles,
and the reels were several times as large as the ones to which they
had been accustomed. Indeed, they seemed like small wheels, four or
five inches in diameter; but as Jock settled back into his chair in
the stern and began to pay out his line, he could see that Bob, whose
chair was on the other side of the boatman, was as content as he, and
no questions were asked.
For a time the boys gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the
morning, after George had declared that they had enough line out. The
sun was now to be seen above the eastern horizon, and was flooding
the earth with its glory. Birds were singing in the bushes on the
shore, the sparkling waters were rushing on with unabated speed, and
the beautiful skiff seemed to be a part of the scene itself, and
almost to belong to the river. George was watching the lines of the
boys, though they themselves were unmindful of them, as the boat was
carried forward by the stream.
Suddenly Jock felt a gentle tug at his line and turned sharply about.
The pull was not repeated, but as he glanced at George questioningly,
the boatman nodded his head and Jock began to reel in his line. He
soon discovered that something was pulling sturdily back, but he
reeled steadily, and as he glanced down into the water, he could see a
fish fast to his hook.
"Pike," said George, quietly. "Reel him in. Be careful! Don't give him
any slack. There! That's the way," he added, as with a quick movement
of his gaff he drew the struggling fish on board.
"He's a beauty!" exclaimed Jock, delightedly. "What'll he weigh,
George?"
"Oh, four or five pounds, perhaps. You'll see some bigger ones than
that if we have any luck to-day. 'Tisn't a very good day for fishing,
though."
He resumed his labors with the oars, but both boys were alert now, and
were waiting for the welcome tug which would indicate that the longed
for strike had been made.
Bob was the next to reel in his line, and to his delight he discovered
that he too had a pike, though not so large as that of his friend.
Several fish were caught by each of the boys as they went down the
stream, and for the time the thoughts of the rapids were forgotten in
the excitement of the present occupation.
"This fishing doesn't amount to much," said George, quietly, as he
removed Jock's latest catch. "When we get below the rapids yonder
we'll be more likely to find 'em."
At his words the boys glanced up, and the sight before them almost
drove the color from their faces. Far in advance they could see the
tossing waters of the Longue Seaut Rapids. A whirling mass of water
seemed to stretch away in the distance as far as they could see. The
waves tossed and rose and fell, and the air was filled with clouds of
spray. The rocks along the shore were at times almost hidden from
sight as the mad river dashed against them. A roaring sound seemed to
fill the air, and already the boat appeared to feel the quickened
movement of the river, for all about them the St. Lawrence was moving
forward, swift and silent, as if it, too, had drawn in its breath for
that fearful plunge into the tossing, heaving, boiling, boisterous
mass before it.
Not far in advance they could see a great island, which seemed to
present a point to the advancing river. At all events the waters
divided there, and along each side went rushing on to the calmer
regions below.
"Whew!" said Jock, drawing a long breath. "Then that's the Longue
Seaut, is it?"
"Yes," replied George, quietly, as if the awe-inspiring sight produced
no impression upon him.
"You don't mean to say we're going through that in this skiff?"
inquired Bob.
"Yes."
"Is it safe? Can you make it?"
"Yes."
"We go to the right of the island, don't we?" said Jock, in a low
voice.
"Yes."
"This side is what they call the Little Seaut, isn't it?" he inquired.
"Yes."
The boys glanced nervously again at the seething waters in the
distance. The fact that they were to go through the "Little" Seaut,
instead of the Big, did not seem to afford any great amount of
comfort; but neither spoke, and their boatman, they had already
discovered, was very different from Ethan, and not inclined to
conversation of any kind.
"You'd better reel in your lines, boys," said George, quietly.
"I thought you said this was where the fish were," said Jock,
nevertheless beginning to reel in as the boatman directed.
"No. Down below the rapids. The fish work up into the bays and lie
there for what they want to come down the stream, and then they dart
out and get it. I'm going to land here for a moment."
He sent the boat ashore, and the boys eagerly watched him as he took a
light pole and went out to one of the projecting rocks. There he
fished for a few minutes, and after he had secured a half-dozen
good-sized "chubs," he returned to the place on the shore where the
boys were waiting for him and said,--
[Illustration: "On and on moved the swift-flying skiff."--_Page 269._]
"Get aboard, now. We'll shoot the rapids, though I haven't as many of
the chubs as I wish I had. It's too bright and warm a day."
Both boys could testify to the latter fact, as they resumed their
seats on board, Their faces were streaming with perspiration, though
as a matter of fact the warm rays of the sun had little to do with
that. They could not remove their gaze from that terror-inspiring
scene, and as George drew back his sleeves and grasped his oars, they,
too, unconsciously grasped the sides of the boat as if they were
seeking for some protection.
No one spoke now, and soon the little skiff was caught in the current
and began to dart forward with ever-increasing speed. George's face
was set and hard, and he, too, occasionally glanced behind him as if
he was striving to get his bearings.
On and on moved the swift-flying skiff, and then, almost before the
boys were aware of it, they were caught in the foaming rapids and
swept forward with incredible speed. The boatman was not rowing now,
only striving, with an occasional use of one oar, to keep the bow of
the skiff pointed straight down the river.
A moment later and they were in the midst of the roar, and the swiftly
moving skiff increased its speed. Jock was aware of Bob's white
countenance, and somehow felt rather than saw that the trees and rocks
along the shore were rushing rapidly past them. He had no thought of
time. He was too excited even to feel afraid. The boat was darting
madly forward, and almost before he was aware of it they had gained
the foot of the island, and there he discovered that the two parts of
the rapids came together and the loud roaring became deeper and
stronger.
Out into the united channel the frail skiff was swept, and then the
current bore them with the speed of a race-horse straight across the
river, till it seemed as if nothing could save them from being dashed
upon the rocks that lined the opposite shore.
George had not spoken since they had entered the rapids, and, indeed,
the roar of the rushing waters would probably have drowned the sound
of his voice had he tried to speak aloud to his companions. He was,
however, constantly alert, and with an occasional quick strong pull
upon one of his oars, kept the boat headed aright.
Just before the skiff came to the shore, and it seemed as if nothing
could save them, there was a sharp turn in the current. Instantly
George drove one oar deep into the water, and putting forth all his
strength, brought the skiff aright, and then it dashed forward down
the stream.
There was a grating sound as the boat touched a rock that came close
up to the surface, but as the boys, with still paler faces, glanced
over the sides to look at the bottom, they were swept onward, and in a
moment the peril was passed.
Soon the waters were calmer, and though running swiftly, were not so
boisterous, and the tossing waves were all behind them. As Jock
glanced back it seemed to him that they had come down a hill of water;
but before him the river apparently had resumed its peaceful aspect,
and the danger had been passed.
"That was a close call," said Jock, with a sigh of relief. "When we
struck that rock I thought we were done for. Weren't you frightened,
George?"
"No."
"But what would have happened if it had made a hole in the boat?"
"We'd have sunk."
"We could have swum with the current, I think," said Bob.
"No, you couldn't," said George. "You'd have been sucked under in a
minute."
"Whew!" whistled Bob. "I'm glad we've been through the Longue Seaut,
but I don't believe I care to do it again."
"Where are the other boys?" inquired Jock, quickly. "They were ahead
of us. You don't suppose they've had any accident, do you, George?"
"No; they're down in that bay you can see ahead of us."
"Is that where we're going?"
"No, we'll stop here," replied George. "If we don't have any luck,
then we'll go on down where they are. That's the best place along the
river."
George turned the skiff, and with a few short, powerful strokes, sent
the boat into the quiet waters. Almost as if a line had been drawn,
across which no waters could pass, the quiet place in the river was
separated from the rushing current. It seemed strange and almost
unnatural, but the dividing line was plainly to be discerned, and,
besides, the skiff was as motionless as if it had been resting on a
sheltered pond.
To make them still more secure, however, George dropped the anchor
overboard, and then baiting the hooks with the large chubs, threw them
into the water close to the dividing line, and resuming his seat,
waited to test the "luck" which was to be had in still-fishing in this
sheltered spot.