II
June was half over when we came to our new home in the town ofMadrid--then a home only for the foxes and the fowls of the air andtheir wild kin of the forest. The road ran through a little valleythick with timber and rock-bound on the north. There were fourfamilies within a mile of us, all comfortably settled in small loghouses. For temporary use we built a rude bark shanty that had apartition of blankets, living in this primitive manner until myfather and D'ri had felled the timber and built a log house. Webrought flour from Malone,--a dozen sacks or more,--and while theywere building, I had to supply my mother with fish and game andberries for the table--a thing easy enough to do in that land ofplenty. When the logs were cut and hewn I went away, horseback, toCanton for a jug of rum. I was all day and half the night goingand coming, and fording the Grasse took me stirrups under.
Then the neighbors came to the raising--a jolly company thatshouted "Hee, oh, hee!" as they lifted each heavy log to its place,and grew noisier quaffing the odorous red rum, that had a mightygood look to me, although my father would not hear of my tastingit. When it was all over, there was nothing to pay but ourgratitude.
While they were building bunks, I went off to sawmill with the oxenfor boards and shingles. Then, shortly, we had a roof over us, andfloors to walk on, and that luxury D'ri called a "pyaz," althoughit was not more than a mere shelf with a roof over it. We chinkedthe logs with moss and clay at first, putting up greased paper inthe window spaces. For months we knew not the luxury of the glasspane.
That summer we "changed work" with the neighbors, and after we hadhelped them awhile they turned to in the clearing of our farm. Wefelled the trees in long, bushy windrows, heaping them up withbrush and small wood when the chopping was over. That done, wefired the rows, filling the deep of heaven with smoke, as it seemedto me, and lighting the night with great billows of flame.
By mid-autumn we had cleared to the stumps a strip half down thevalley from our door. Then we turned to on the land of ourneighbors, my time counting half, for I was sturdy and could swingthe axe to a line, and felt a joy in seeing the chips fly. But myfather kept an eye on me, and held me back as with a leash,
My mother was often sorely tried for the lack of things common asdirt these better days. Frequently our only baking-powder waswhite lye, made by dropping ash-cinders into wafer. Our cinderswere made by letting the sap of green timber drip into hot ashes.Often deer's tallow, bear's grease, or raccoon's oil served forshortening, and the leaves of the wild raspberry for tea. Ourneighbors went to mill at Canton--a journey of five days, going andcoming, with an ox-team, and beset with many difficulties. Thenone of them hollowed the top of a stump for his mortar and tied hispestle to the bough of a tree. With a rope he drew the bough down,which, as it sprang back, lifted the pestle that ground his grain.
But money was the rarest of all things in our neighborhood thosedays. Pearlash, black-salts, West India pipe-staves, and rafts oftimber brought cash, but no other products of the early settler.Late that fall my mother gave a dance, a rude but hearty pleasuringthat followed a long conference in which my father had a part.They all agreed to turn to, after snowfall, on the river-land, cuta raft of timber, and send it to Montreal in the spring. Ourthings had come, including D'ri's fiddle, so that we had chairs andbedsteads and other accessories of life not common among ourneighbors. My mother had a few jewels and some fine old furniturethat her father had given her,--really beautiful things, I havesince come to know,--and she showed them to those simple folk witha mighty pride in her eyes.
Business over, D'ri took down his fiddle, that hung on the wall,and made the strings roar as he tuned them. Then he threw his longright leg over the other, and, as be drew the bow, his big footbegan to pat the floor a good pace away. His chin lifted, hisfingers flew, his bow quickened, the notes seemed to whirl andscurry, light-footed as a rout of fairies. Meanwhile the toe ofhis right boot counted the increasing tempo until it came up anddown like a ratchet.
Darius Olin was mostly of a slow and sober manner. To cross hislegs and feel a fiddle seemed to throw his heart open and put himin full gear. Then his thoughts were quick, his eyes merry, hisheart was a fountain of joy. He would lean forward, swaying hishead, and shouting "Yip!" as the bow hurried. D'ri was ahard-working man, but the feel of the fiddle warmed and limberedhim from toe to finger. He was over-modest, making light of hisskill if he ever spoke of it, and had no ear for a compliment.While our elders were dancing, I and others of my age were playinggames in the kitchen--kissing-games with a rush and tumble in them,puss-in-the-corner, hunt-the-squirrel, and the like. Even then Ithought I was in love with pretty Rose Merriman. She would neverlet me kiss her, even though I had caught her and had the right.This roundelay, sung while one was in the centre of a circlinggroup, ready to grab at the last word, brings back to me the sweetfaces, the bright eyes, the merry laughter of that night and otherslike it:
Oh, hap-py is th' mil-ler who lives by him-self! As th' wheel gos round, he gath-ers in 'is wealth, One hand on the hop-per and the oth-er on the bag; As the wheel goes round, he cries out, "Grab!" Oh, ain't you a lit-tle bit a-shamed o' this, Oh, ain't you a lit-tle bit a-sham'd o' this, Oh, ain't you a lit-tle bit a-sham'd o' this--To stay all night for one sweet kiss? Oh, etc.
[Transcriber's note: A Lilypond (www.lilypond.org) rendition ofthis song is at the end of this e-book.]
My mother gave me all the schooling I had that winter. A yearlater they built a schoolhouse, not quite a mile away, where Ifound more fun than learning. After two years I shouldered my axeand went to the river-land with the choppers every winter morning.
My father was stronger than any of them except D'ri, who coulddrive his axe to the bit every blow, day after day. He had thestrength of a giant, and no man I knew tried ever to cope with him.By the middle of May we began rolling in for the raft. As soon asthey were floating, the logs were withed together and moored insections. The bay became presently a quaking, redolent plain oftimber.
When we started the raft, early in June, that summer of 1810, andworked it into the broad river with sweeps and poles, I was aboardwith D'ri and six other men, bound for the big city of which I hadheard so much. I was to visit the relatives of my mother and spenda year in the College de St. Pierre. We had a little frame houseon a big platform, back of the middle section of the raft, withbunks in it, where we ate and slept and told stories. Lying on theplatform, there was a large flat stone that held our fires for bothcooking and comfort. D'ri called me in the dusk of the earlymorning, the first night out, and said we were near the Sault. Igot up, rubbed my eyes, and felt a mighty thrill as I heard theroar of the great rapids and the creaking withes, and felt the liftof the speeding water. D'ri said they had broken the raft intothree parts, ours being hindmost. The roaring grew louder, untilmy shout was as a whisper in a hurricane. The logs began to heaveand fall, and waves came rushing through them. Sheets of sprayshot skyward, coming down like a shower. We were shaken as by anearthquake in the rough water. Then the roar fell back of us, andthe raft grew steady.
"Gin us a tough twist," said D'ri, shouting down at me--"kind uv atwist o' the bit 'n' a kick 'n the side."
It was coming daylight as we sailed into still water, and then D'riput his hands to his mouth and hailed loudly, getting an answer outof the gloom ahead.
"Gol-dum ef it hain't the power uv a thousan' painters!" D'ricontinued, laughing as he spoke. "Never see nothin' jump 'n' kick'n' spit like thet air, 'less it hed fur on--never 'n all my borndays."
D'ri's sober face showed dimly now in the dawn. His hands were onhis hips; his faded felt hat was tipped sideways. His boots andtrousers were quarrelling over that disputed territory between hisknees and ankles. His boots had checked the invasion.
"Smooth water now," said he, thoughtfully, "Seems terrible still.Hain't a breath uv air stirrin'. Jerushy Jane Pepper! Wha' doesthet mean?"
He stepped aside quickly as some bits of bark and a small bo
ugh ofhemlock fell at our feet. Then a shower of pine needles cameslowly down, scattering over us and hitting the timber with a fainthiss. Before we could look up, a dry stick as long as a log fellrattling on the platform.
"Never see no sech dom's afore," said D'ri, looking upward."Things don't seem t' me t' be actin' eggzac'ly nat'ral--nut jestes I 'd like t' see 'em."
As the light came clearer, we saw clouds heaped black and blue overthe tree-tops in the southwest. We stood a moment looking. Theclouds were heaping higher, pulsing with light, roaring withthunder. What seemed to be a flock of pigeons rose suddenly abovethe far forest, and then fell as if they had all been shot. A gustof wind coasted down the still ether, fluttering like a rag andshaking out a few drops of rain.
"Look there!" I shouted, pointing aloft.
"Hark!" said D'ri, sharply, raising his hand of three fingers.
We could hear a far sound like that of a great wagon rumbling on astony road.
"The Almighty 's whippin' his hosses," said D'ri. "Looks es ef hewus plungin' 'em through the woods 'way yender. Look a' thet airsky."
The cloud-masses were looming rapidly. They had a glow like thatof copper.
"Tryin' t' put a ruf on the world," my companion shouted."Swingin' ther hammers hard on the rivets."
A little peak of green vapor showed above the sky-line. It loomedhigh as we looked. It grew into a lofty column, reeling far abovethe forest. Below it we could see a mighty heaving in thetree-tops. Something like an immense bird was hurtling andpirouetting in the air above them. The tower of green looked nowlike a great flaring bucket hooped with fire and overflowing withdarkness. Our ears were full of a mighty voice out of the heavens.A wind came roaring down some tideway of the air like water in aflume. It seemed to tap the sky. Before I could gather mythoughts we were in a torrent of rushing air, and the raft hadbegun to heave and toss. I felt D'ri take my hand in his. I couldjust see his face, for the morning had turned dark suddenly. Hislips were moving, but I could hear nothing he said. Then he layflat, pulling me down. Above and around were all the noises thatever came to the ear of man--the beating of drums, the bellowing ofcattle, the crash of falling trees, the shriek of women, the rattleof machinery, the roar of waters, the crack of rifles, the blowingof trumpets, the braying of asses, and sounds the like of which Ihave never heard and pray God I may not hear again, one and thenanother dominating the mighty chorus. Behind us, in the gloom, Icould see, or thought I could see, the reeling mass of greenploughing the water, like a ship with chains of gold flashing overbulwarks of fire. In a moment something happened of which I havenever had any definite notion. I felt the strong arm of D'riclasping me tightly. I heard the thump and roll and rattle of thelogs heaping above us; I felt the water washing over me; but Icould see nothing. I knew the raft had doubled; it would fall andgrind our bones: but I made no effort to save myself. And thinkinghow helpless I felt is the last I remember of the great windfall ofJune 3, 1810, the path of which may be seen now, fifty years afterthat memorable day, and I suppose it will be visible long after mybones have crumbled. I thought I had been sleeping when I came to;at least, I had dreamed. I was in some place where it was dark andstill. I could hear nothing but the drip of water; I could feelthe arm of D'ri about me, and I called to him, and then I felt himstir.
"Thet you, Ray?" said he, lifting his head.
"Yes," I answered. "Where are we?"
"Judas Priest! I ain' no idee. Jes' woke up. Been a-layin' heretryin' t' think. Ye hurt?"
"Guess not," said I.
"Ain't ye got no pains or aches nowhere 'n yer body?"
"Head aches a little," said I.
He rose to his elbow, and made a light with his flint and tinder,and looked at me.
"Got a goose-egg on yer for'ard," said he, and then I saw there wasblood on his face.
"Ef it hed n't been fer the withes they 'd 'a' ground us t' powder."
We were lying alongside the little house, and the logs were leaningto it above us.
"Jerushy Jane Pepper!" D'ri exclaimed, rising to his knees. "'Swhut I call a twister."
He began to whittle a piece of the splintered platform. Then helit a shaving.
"They 's ground here," said he, as he began to kindle a fire,"ground a-plenty right under us."
The firelight gave us a good look at our cave under the logs. Itwas about ten feet long and probably half as high. The logs hadcrashed through the side of the house in one or two places, and itsroof was a wreck.
"Hungry?" said D'ri, as he broke a piece of board on his knee.
"Yes," I answered.
"So 'm I," said he, "hungrier 'n a she-wolf. They 's some bread'n' ven'son there 'n the house; we better try t' git 'em."
An opening under the logs let me around the house corner to itsdoor. I was able to work my way through the latter, although itwas choked with heavy timbers. Inside I could hear the wash of theriver, and through its shattered window on the farther wall I couldsee between the heaped logs a glow of sunlit water. I handed ouraxe through a break in the wall, and then D'ri cut away some of thebaseboards and joined me. We had our meal cooking in a fewminutes--our dinner, really, for D'ri said it was near noon.Having eaten, we crawled out of the window, and then D'ri began topry the logs apart.
"Ain't much 'fraid o' their tumblin' on us," said he. "They 'rewithed so they 'll stick together."
We got to another cave under the logs, at the water's edge, afteran hour of crawling and prying. A side of the raft was in thewater.
"Got t' dive," said D'ri, "an' swim fer daylight."
A long swim it was, but we came up in clear water, badly out ofbreath. We swam around the timber, scrambling over a dead cow, andup-shore. The ruined raft was torn and tumbled into a verymountain of logs at the edge of the water. The sun was shiningclear, and the air was still. Limbs of trees, bits of torn cloth,a broken hay-rake, fragments of wool, a wagon-wheel, and two deadsheep were scattered along the shore. Where we had seen thewhirlwind coming, the sky was clear, and beneath it was a great gapin the woods, with ragged walls of evergreen. Here and there inthe gap a stub was standing, trunk and limbs naked.
"Jerushy Jane Pepper!" D'ri exclaimed, with a pause after eachword. "It's cut a swath wider 'n this river. Don't b'lieve amouse could 'a' lived where the timber 's down over there."
Our sweepers and the other sections of the raft were nowhere insight.
D'Ri and I Page 4
