Adele Dubois Part 16

Just as night gave its parting salute to the advancing day, the voyagers pa.s.sed into a region densely wooded down to the water's edge.

Oaks, elms, and maples, birches of different sorts, willows and cranberry, grew in wild luxuriance along the margin, tinged with the rich hues of autumn. A thousand spicy odors exhaled from the frostbitten plants and shrubs, filling the senses with an intoxicating incense. When the rising sun shot its level rays through the trees, the clear stream quivered with golden arrows.

John viewed the scenes through which they glided with eager eye.

Micah's countenance expressed intense satisfaction. He sat bolt upright in the stern of the canoe, steering with his paddle, his keen bullet eyes dancing from side to side examining every object as they pa.s.sed along. Both were silent.

At length, Micah exclaimed, "Well, Captin', this is the pootiest way of livin' I know on, any heow. My 'pinion is that human natur was meant to live reound on rivers and in the woods, or vyagin' on lakes, and sech. I never breathe jest nateral and lively, till I git eout o'

between heouse walls into the free air".

"'Tis a glorious life, Micah! I agree to it".

"Hark!" said Micah! "Got yer piece ready? Maybe you'll hev' a chance to bring sumthin' deown. I heerd an old squaw holler jest neow".

"I'm ready", said John. "But I didn't hear any sound. What was it like?"

"O! kinder a scoldin' seound. Cawcawee! cawcawee! Don't yer hear the critter reelin' of it off? Ha! 'tis dyin' away, though. We shall hear it agin, by and by".

"An old squaw", said John, as the excitement the prospect of a shot had raised in his mind subsided. "Do you have such game as _that_, in Miramichi? I've heard of witches flying on broomsticks through the air, but didn't know before that squaws are in the habit of skylarking about in that way".

"Well, ye'll know it by observation, before long", said Micah, with a slight twitch of one eye. "Them's ducks from Canada, a goin'

south'ard, as they allers do in the fall o' the year. They keep up that ere scoldin' seound, day and night. Cawcawee! cawcawee! kind of an aggravatin' holler! But I like it, ruther. It allers 'minds me of a bustin' good feller that was deown here from Canada once".

"How remind you of him?" inquired John.

"Well, he cam' deown on bissiniss, but he ran afowl o' me, and we was eout in the woods together, consid'able. He used to set eoutside the camp, bright, starlight nights, and sing songs, and sech. He had a powerful, sweet v'ice, and it allers 'peared to me as ef every kind of a livin' thing hushed up and listened, when he sung o' nights. He could reel off most anything you can think on. There was one kind of a mournful ditty he sung, and once in a while he brung in a chorus,--cawcawee! cawcawee,--jest like what them ducks say, only, the way he made it seound, was soft and meller and doleful-like. I liked to hear him sing that, only he was so solemn arter it, and would set and fetch up great long sythes. And once I asked him what made him so sober and take on so, arter singin' it. He said, Micah, my good lad, when I war a young man, I had a little French wife, that could run like a hind and sing like a wild bird. Well, she died. The very last thing she sung, was, that 'ere song. When I see how he felt, I never asked him another question. He sot and sythed a spell and then got up, took a most oncommon swig of old Jamaky and turned into his blanket".

Just as Micah ended this account, John caught sight of a large bird at a distance directly ahead of them, and his attention became entirely absorbed. It took flight from a partly decayed tree on the northern bank, and commenced wheeling around, above the water. The canoe was rapidly nearing this promising game.

Micah said not a word, but observed, in an apparently careless mood, the movements of his young companion.

Suddenly, the bird poised himself for an instant in the air, then closed his wings and shot downward. A whizzing sound! then a plash, and he disappeared beneath the surface, throwing up the water into sparkling foam-wreaths. He was absent but a moment, and then bore upward into the air a large fish.

John's shot took him on the wing, and he dropped dead, his claws yet grasping the fish, on the water's edge.

"Ruther harnsum than otherwise!" exclaimed Micah. "You've got your dinner, Captin'".

And he put the canoe rapidly towards the river-bank, to pick up the game.

They found it to be a large fish-hawk, with a good-sized salmon in its fierce embrace. It was a n.o.ble specimen of the bird, tinted with brown, ashy white, and blue, with eyes of deep orange color.

"Well, that are a prize", said Micah. "Them birds ain't common in these parts, bein' as they mostly live on sea-coasts. But this un was on his way seouth, and his journey has ended quite unexpected".

Saying which, he threw both bird and fish into the canoe, and darted forward on the river again.

"When shall we reach the deer feeding-ground you spoke of, Micah?"

"O! not afore night", said Micah. "And then we mustn't go anyst it till mornin'".

"I suppose you have brought down some scores of deer in your hunting raids, Micah?"

"Why, yes,--takin' it by and large, I've handled over consid'able many of 'em. 'Tis a critter I hate to kill, Captin', though I s'pose it seounds soft to say so. Ef 't wan't for thinkin' they'll git picked off, anyway, I dunno but I should let 'em alone altogether".

"Why do you dislike to kill them?"

"Well, to begin with, they're a harnsum critter. They hev sech graceful ways with 'em, kinder grand ones tew, specially them bucks, with their crests reared up agin the sky, lookin' so bold and free like. And them bright little does,--sometimes they hev sech a skeerd, tender look in their eyes,--and I've seen the tears roll out on 'em, when they lay wounded and disabled like, jest like a human critter. It allers makes me feel kind o' puggetty to see that".

They made a noon halt, in the shadows cast by a clump of silver birches, and did ample justice to the provision supplied from the pantry of the Dubois house.

At four o'clock they proceeded onward towards the deer hunt. John listened with unwearied interest to Micah's stories of peril and hair-breadth 'scapes, by flood, field, and forest, gathering many valuable hints in the science of woodcraft from the practised hunter.

Just at dark, they reached a broad part of the stream, and selected their camping-ground.

The tent was soon pitched, a fire of brushwood kindled and the salmon broiled to a relish that an epicure could not have cavilled at. The table, a flat rock, was also garnished with white French rolls, sliced ham, brown bread, blocks of savory cheese, and tea, smoking hot.

The sylvan scene,--the moon shedding its light around, the low music of the gently rippling waves, the spicy odor of the burning cedar, the snow-white clouds and deep blue of the sky mirrored in the stream, made it a place fit at least for rural divinities. Pan might have looked in,--ah! he is dead,--his ghost then might have looked in upon them from behind some old gnarled tree, with a frown of envy at this intrusion upon his ancient domain.

On the following morning, at the first faint glimmering of light, Micah was alert. He shook our young hero's shoulder and woke him from a pleasant dream.

"Neow's the time, Captin'", said Micah, speaking in a cautious undertone, "neow's the time, ef we do it at all, to nab them deer.

While your gittin' rigged and takin' a cold bite, I'll tell ye the lay o' things. Ye see, don't ye, that pint o' land ahead on us, a juttin'

out into the stream? Well, we've got to put the canoe on the water right away, hustle in the things, and percede just as whist and keerful as we ken, to that pint. Jest beyend that, I expect the animils, when day's fairly up, will come to drink. And there's where we'll get a shot at 'em".

"But what makes you expect they'll come to drink at that particular place, Micah?"

"You see that pooty steep hill, that slopes up jest back o' the pint o' land, don't ye? Well, behind that hill which is steeper 'n it looks to be, there's a largish, level piece of greound that's been burnt over within a few years, and it's grown up to tall gra.s.s and got a number o' clumps of young trees on it, and it's 'bout surreounded by a lot o' master rocky hills. That's the feedin' greound. There's a deep gorge cut right inter that hill, back 'o the pint. The gorge has a pooty smooth rocky bed. In the spring o' the year, there's a brook runs through there and pours inter the river jest below. But it's all dry neow, and the deer, as a gen'al thing scramble eout of their feedin' place into this gorge and foller it deown to the river to git their drink. It brings 'em eout jest below the pint. We have got neow to cross over to the pint, huggin' the bank, so the critters shan't see us, and take a shot from there. Git yer piece ready, Captin. Ef there's tew, or more, I'll hev the fust shot and you the second. Don't speak, arter we git on to the pint, the leastest word".

"I understand", said John, as he examined his rifle, to see that all was right.

"Now for it", said Micah, as having finished their arrangements, they entered the canoe.

Silently, they paddled along, sheltered from observation by the little wooded promontory and following as nearly as possible the crankling river as it indented into the land. In a few minutes, they landed and proceeded noiselessly to get a view of the bank below.

After a moment's reconnoitre, John turned his face towards Micah with a look of blank disappointment.

But Micah looked cool and expectant. He merely pointed up the rocky gorge and said under his breath--

"'T aint time to expect 'em yet. The wind, what there is on it, is favorable tew,--it blows right in our faces and can't kerry any smell of us to 'em. Neow hide yourself right away. Keep near me, Captin', so that we ken make motions to each other".

In a few moments they had secured their ambuscade, each lying on the ground at full length, concealed by low, scrubby trees. By a slight turn of the head, each could command a view up the gorge for a considerable distance.

Just as the sun began to show his broad, red disc in the east, new light shot forth from the eyes of the hunters, as they perceived a small herd coming down the rocky pathway. The creatures bounded along with a wild and graceful freedom, until they reached the debouche of the pa.s.s into the valley. There they paused,--scanned the scene with eager eyes and snuffed the morning breeze. The wind brought no tale of their enemies, close at hand, and they bounded on fearlessly to the river's brink.

It was apparently a family party, a n.o.ble buck leading the group, followed by a doe and two young hinds. They soon had their noses in the stream. The buck took large draughts and then raising his haughty front, tossed his antlers, as if in defiance, in the face of the G.o.d of day.

Micah's eye was at his rifle. A crack and a whizz in the air. The n.o.ble creature gave one mighty bound and fell dead. The ball had entered his broad forehead and penetrated to the brain.

At the report of the rifle, the doe, who was still drinking, gave a bound in the air, scattering the spray from her dripping mouth, wheeled with the rapidity of lightning, and sprang towards the gorge.

But John's instantaneous shot sped through the air and the animal fell dead from her second bound, the ball having entered the heart. In the midst of their triumph, John and Micah watched, with relenting eyes the two hinds, while they took, as on the wings of the wind, their forlorn flight up the fatal pathway.