Gaut Gurley; Or, the Trappers of Umbagog Part 14

It had been agreed that the company should rendezvous on the lake-sh.o.r.e, at the spot which we have already often mentioned, and which, by common consent, was now beginning to be called Elwood's Landing. And, accordingly, early on the appointed morning, Mark Elwood and his son Claud, having dispatched their breakfast, which Mrs. Elwood had been careful to make an unusually good and plentiful one, shouldered their large hunting packs, with their blankets neatly folded and strapped outside; and, having bid that anxious and thoughtful wife and mother a tender farewell, left the house and proceeded with a lively step to the border of the lake. On reaching their canoe at the landing, they glanced inquiringly around them for some indications of the presence or coming of their expected companions. But not a living object met their strained gaze, and not the semblance of a sound greeted their listening ears. A light sheeted fog, of varying thickness and density in the different portions of the wide expanse,--here thin and spray-like, as if formed of the breath of some marine monster, and there thickening to the appearance of the stratiform cloud,--lay low stretched, in long, slow-creeping undulations, over the bosom of the waveless lake.

"The first on the ground, after all," exclaimed Mr. Elwood, on peering out sharply through the partially-obstructing fog in the direction of the outlet of the lake, up through which most of the company, who lived on the rivers below, were expected to come. "That is smart, after so much cautioning to us to be here in season. But they cannot be very far off, can they, Claud?"

"One would suppose not," replied the latter; "but sounds, in this dense and quiet state of the atmosphere, could be distinguished at a great distance, and, with all that my best faculties can do, I cannot hear a single sound from any quarter.--But stay, what was that?"

"What did you think you heard, Claud?" asked Mr. Elwood, after waiting a moment for the other to proceed or explain.

"Why, I can hardly tell, myself," was the musing reply; "but it was some shrill, long-drawn sound, that seemed to come from a great distance in the woods off here to the south-east, or on the lake beyond."

"Perhaps it was a loon somewhere up the lake," suggested Mr. Elwood.

"It may be so, possibly," rejoined Claud, doubtfully; "but, if there were any inhabitants near enough in that direction, I should think it must be--hark, there it is again! and, as I thought, the crowing of a rooster."

"A rooster! then it must be the echo of one, that has somehow struck across from Phillips' barn; but how could that be? Ah, I have just thought: your rooster must be Codman coming down the lake. You know how curiously he imitated that creature at the logging bee, don't you?"

"No; I happened to be in a noisy bustle in the house, just at the time of those queer performances of his, and heard them imperfectly. But, if the sound I heard was not that of a veritable rooster, I never was so deceived in my life respecting the character of a sound."

"Well, I think you will find I am right, but we will wait, listen, and see."

The event soon proved the truth of Mr. Elwood's conjecture. Suddenly a canoe, rounding a woody point a half-mile to the right, shot into view, and the old loud and shrill _Kuk-kuk-ke-o-ho_ of Comical Codman rang far and wide over the waters to the echoing hills beyond. But, before Claud had sufficiently recovered from his surprise to respond to the triumphant "_I told you so_" of his father, the strange salute was answered by a merry, responsive shout of voices in the opposite direction; and presently two canoes, each containing two men, emerged into view from the fog hanging over the outlet, and, joining in a contest of speed, to which they seemed to perceive the single boatman was, by his movements, challenging them, rapidly made their way towards the understood goal of the landing.

"The race is run.

The vict'ry won!"

exclaimed the trapper, in his usual cheery tone and inimitable air of mock gravity, as he drew up his oar, to let the impulse of his last stroke send his canoe in to the sh.o.r.e of the landing, as it did, while the foremost of his compet.i.tors in the friendly race was yet fifty yards distant. "Mighty smart fellows, you!" he resumed, waggishly c.o.c.king his eye towards the hunter, who had charge of the boat most in advance. "_What bright and early_ chaps, living only from two to five miles off, to let one who has ten miles to come be in first at the rendezvous!"

"Well, Codman, I suppose we must give in," responded the hunter. "But, to do all this, you must have risen long before day; how did you contrive to wake up?"

"Why, crowed like the house a-fire, and waked myself up, to be sure!"

replied Codman, promptly. "How did you suppose I did it? But let that all go; I want to look you over a little. You have brought some new faces with you, this time, haven't you, Mr. Hunter?"

"Yes, here is one," answered Phillips, pointing to a tall, sandy-complexioned, but good-looking man of about thirty, who, having occupied the forward seat of the canoe, now quietly stepped ash.o.r.e; "yes, gentlemen," added the hunter, addressing himself to the Elwoods, standing on the bank, as well as to the trapper, "I make you acquainted with Mr.

Carvil,--a man, if I ain't a good deal out in my reckoning, who might be relied on in most any circ.u.mstances."

The customary salutations were then exchanged with the stranger; when the hunter, instinctively understanding that often violated rule of true politeness which requires of the introducer some accompanying remark, giving a clue to the position and character of the introduced, so as to gratify the natural curiosity felt on such occasions, and to impart more freedom to the conversation, quickly resumed:

"Mr. Carvil is a Green Mountain boy, who loves hunting, partly for the health it gives, and partly for the fun of it. His old range has usually been round the Great Megantic, the other side of the highlands, in Canada, where I have heard of him through the St. Francis Indians. But, having a mind to see and try this side, he came on a few days ago, inquired me out, and turned in with me. We from below have invited him to join our company; are you all here agreed to that?"

"Certainly," said Mark Elwood, in his usual off-hand manner.

"Certainly," added Claud, more specifically, "I think we ought to be gratified in such an acquisition to our company."

"And you, Codman?" said the hunter, turning inquiringly to the trapper. "It is your turn to speak. But don't show the gentleman so many of your bad streaks, to begin with, as to put him out of conceit of you before he has time to find out your good ones."

"Well, I don't see but I must run the risk, then," said the trapper; "my streaks always come out as they come up, I never pick any of them out as samples for strangers. But to the question,--well, let's run him over once, if he won't be mad: high cheek bones, showing him enough of the Indian make to be a good hunter; a crank, steady eye, indicating honest motives, and a good resolution, that won't allow a man to rest easy till his object is carried out; and lastly, a well-put-together, wiry frame, to bear fatigues, and do the work which so large a head must often lay out for it. Yes, he pa.s.ses muster with me bravely: let him in, with a welcome."

Carvil rewarded these good-natured running commentaries on his person and supposed qualities, with a complacent bow; when the trapper turned to the other canoe, which, with Gaut Gurley and the young Indian described in a preceding chapter on board, now came within speaking distance, and sang out:

"Hil-lo! there, you, captain, who made the big logs fly so like the de-i-vel, the other day, whether the old chap had any hand in it or not, what red genius is that you have brought along with you?"

"It's Tomah, the young red man from the Connecticut-river region, who hunted some in this section last fall, I understand. I supposed you had met him before," replied Gaut.

"O, ah, well, yes," responded Codman; "I bethink me, now, it is the young Indian that went to college, but couldn't be kept there long enough to make any thing else, though long enough, may be, to spoil him for a hunter."

"May be not, too," retorted Tomah, with a miffed air, which showed he did not so readily appreciate the half-serious, half-sportive manner of the trapper as the other stranger had done. "May be, when you out with me catching beaver, one, two month, you no crow so loud."

"That's right," interposed the hunter; "the Indian gives you what you deserve for your nonsense, Codman. But a truce to jokes. Let us all aboard, strike out, and be on our way over the lake."

In compliance with this suggestion, those not already in the boats took to their seats, handled their oars, pushed off, and, headed by the hunter and his boat companion, and falling, one after another, into a line, rowed steadily on across, the broadest part of the lake, taking a lofty pine, whose attenuated top looked like a reed rising over the fog in the distance, as a guide and landmark to the great inlet, where the most arduous task of their expedition was to be encountered,--the surmounting of the long line of rapids leading to the great lakes above. But that task, after a pleasant rowing of a couple of hours had brought them to it, was, by dint of hard struggles against the current, with oars as long as oars could be made to prevail; with setting-poles when oars ceased to serve the purpose; and with ropes attached to the boats and drawn from point to point or rock to rock, when neither oars nor poles were of any avail; together with the carrying both boats and baggage by land round the last and most difficult ascent,--that task was at length accomplished, and, before one o'clock in the afternoon, all the boats, with their loading, were safely launched on the broad bosom of the wild and picturesque Molechunk-a-munk.

Here, however, the company decided on taking their mid-day's lunch, and an hour's rest, before proceeding on their voyage. But, not deeming it expedient to incur the trouble and delay which the building of fires and the new cooking of provisions would require, they drew out only their bread and cold meats, for the occasion; and these, as the company were seated in an irregular circle on the rocks, were discussed and dispatched with that keen relish which abstinence and a toil-earned appet.i.te alone could have brought them.

After they had finished their repast, they, at the suggestion of Phillips and Codman, the only persons of the company who were familiar with the lakes and country above, took up a question which they had before discussed, without settling, but which, they were told by the persons just named, must now, before proceeding any farther, be definitely settled and understood. This question was that of the expediency of establis.h.i.+ng a general head-quarters for the season, by building a large, storm-proof camp, and locating it at some central point on the sh.o.r.e of one of the two great lakes opening still above the one on which they were now about to embark. The object of this was to insure the company comfortable quarters, to which they could resort in case of falling sick, or encountering long storms, at which their furs could be collected and more safely kept, their more c.u.mbrous stores left, and from which their provisions could be distributed, with the least trouble and travel, to the smaller and more temporary camps that each of the company, or any two of them, might make at the nearest terminations, on the neighboring waters, of the different ranges of woods they should select for their respective fields of operations. The main part of the question, that of the necessity of establis.h.i.+ng general head-quarters, was at once, and unanimously, decided in the affirmative. The remaining part, that of the most eligible location for these quarters, was then fully discussed, and finally settled by fixing the point of location about midway of the eastern side of the Mooseeluk-maguntic, the next great lake above, and, counting from the south, the third in this unique chain of secluded lakes and widely cl.u.s.tering lakelets, through which the far-spanning Androscoggin pours its vast volume of wild waters to the distant bosom of the welcoming ocean.

"Wisely arranged," remarked the hunter, at the close of the discussion.

"The next object in view, then, is to reach there this evening, in season to work up something in the shape of a camp, that will serve for the night, and until the good one we propose to build can be completed."

"That can be done easily enough," said Codman, "that is, if we will tax our marrow-bones a little extra in pulling at the oars. The distance over this lake, up the narrows, or river, and across the end of the Maguntic to the mouth of that second stream we have talked of, can't be much more than a dozen miles, and all smooth sailing. Lord, yes! if we put in like decent oarsmen, I warrant we make fetch come, so as to be there by the sun an hour high, which will give time to build a comfortable camp, and for cooking up the jolly good supper I'm thinking to have, to pay us for all these sweats and hard pulls up these confounded rapids and over these never-ending lakes."

"Well, let us put in, then, boys," responded Gaut Gurley. "I am as much for the go-ahead principle as the best of you. Let us try the motion, and _earn_ the good supper, whether we get it or not. But, to make the supper quite the thing for the occasion, it strikes me we ought to have something a little fresher than our salt junk."

"True, O King, and Great Mogul of the lubber-lifts," rejoined the trapper; "thou talkest like one not altogether without knowledge of the good living of the woods. That something fresher we will have, if it be only a mess of fish, which I think I can take out of that stream in a short time after we get there."

"That could be done as we go along, if these lakes are as well stocked with large trout as they are reputed," observed Carvil, in the calm, deliberate manner which characterized him on all occasions.

"But we mustn't stop for that," said the trapper.

"There is no need of stopping," quietly replied the former.

"That's a queer idea," said the trapper, evidently at fault. "How are we to put in and wait for bites, without stopping, I would like to know?"

"Perhaps I may be able to demonstrate the matter, as we proceed on our way.

At all events, since the question is raised, I will try," replied Carvil, drawing from his pocket a roll of small silk cord, to which a fish-hook, without any sinker, was attached. "Can any of you handily get at your pork, so as to cut off and throw me a small bit? There, that will do," he continued, taking the proffered bit of meat, and baiting his hook with it.

"Now, the experiment I propose to try is what in my region we call 'troulling,' which consists of throwing out a baited hook and paying out, as the boat moves on, a hundred feet, or so, of line, that is left to trail, floating on the surface of the water behind; when most large fish, like ba.s.s, or trout, especially if you make a sharp tack, occasionally, so as to draw the line across an undisturbed portion of the water, will see, and, darting up, sieze it, and hook themselves. And, if you have many large trout _here_, and they are any related to those I have found in the Great Maguntic, and other large bodies of fresh water, they will some of them stand a pretty good chance to be found adding to our supper to-night."

"Sorry to hear it," said the trapper, "for I have always considered the trout a sensible fish, and I should be sorry to lose my respect for them.

But, if they will do that, they are bigger fools than I took them to be.

But you'll find they just won't."

"Well, I don't know about that, now. I am not so sure but there may be something in it," remarked the hunter, who had been listening to Carvil with evident interest. "Though we have never tried that method in this region, to my knowledge, yet my experience rather goes to confirm the notion. I remember to have caught several fine trout, when I had laid down my pole, and was moving off with my boat, but had left my line trailing behind. Those great fellows are not very bashful about seizing any thing they think they can eat, which they can see on the surface. I have known them do a stranger thing than to come up and seize a piece of pork."

"What was that?" asked the trapper.

"Well, I don't know as you will believe the story," answered the other, "but it will be equally true, if you don't. Some years ago I was out on the Umbagog, for a mess of trout, but couldn't get a bite; and, seeing a flock of black ducks in a neighboring cove, I hauled in my line, and rowed off towards them, thinking I might get a shot, and so have something to carry home, by way of mending my luck at fis.h.i.+ng. But, before I got near enough to count with much certainty on the effect of a shot, if I fired, they all flew up, but one, which, though it seemed to be trying hard enough, could not raise its body out of the water. As my canoe drifted in nearer, I once or twice raised my rifle to fire at it; but it acted so strangely, flapping the water with its wings, and tugging away at swimming, without appearing to gain scarce a single foot, that I soon laid down my piece and concluded I would try to take it alive, supposing it must have got fast tangled with something, but with what, I was wholly unable to conceive. So, taking up my oar, and gunning my canoe, so as to send it by within reach of the bird, I gave two or three strong pulls, threw down the oar, put out my hand, and sat ready for the grab, which the next moment I made, seizing the panting and now sinking duck by one of its outspread wings, and pulling it in, with a big trout fastened to its foot and leg so tight by the teeth that the hold did not give way till the greedy fish was brought slapping over the side, and landed safely in the bottom of the canoe. That trout, when I got home, weighed just seven pounds and nine ounces."

"Wheugh! whiz! kak! ke-o-ho!" exclaimed, whistled, and crowed Comical Codman.

"I do not doubt it in the least," said Carvil.