by Quincy Allen
CHAPTER XXI.
SHOOTING THE LONGUE SEAUT.
That evening the boys visited the "Springs" proper, and drank of thewaters which were supposed to be of a quality to restore all wastedfaculties of mind and body. The taste, however, was anything butagreeable to the lads, which was explained to them by the fact thatnone of their vital forces had been wasted, and, therefore, there wasno craving for that which would supply their deficiencies.
They were interested in the stories which were told them of the goodold times before the introduction of railroads and similar moderncontrivances, when people from far and near used to journey to thesprings in pursuit of restored youth and strength, stories which"reminded" Bob of the efforts of the early discoverers to find thefountain of youth in the far-off land of Florida.
He was compelled to postpone his lecture, however, for the boysdecided to retire at once, and soon all four were sleeping soundly inthe "tavern" which Ethan had recommended.
Only the gray of the dawn had appeared when they were summoned in themorning, and hastily dressing, they made their way to the dining room,where an early breakfast was served them. Their carriage was inwaiting for them even at that early hour, and soon they were ridingback to the Landing, where boats and boatmen were to be ready forthem, if Ethan's plans were fulfilled.
The driver explained to them on their way that the day was not to be avery good one for fishing, for it gave promise of being bright andintensely warm. The latter prophecy was the more difficult to believe,for the boys felt the chill of the early morning, although each hadbrought an overcoat for protection.
The impression of the great age of the region seemed to be stronger inthe early hours even than it had been in the preceding evening. Thestillness was almost oppressive. Anything like the bustle and stir ofthe 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 allremote and vague. As they drew nearer the river, from some of thefarmhouses the occupants came forth and stopped for a moment to gazeat the passing carriage, and then turned to the barnyards where thecattle were waiting to be milked. Men and women, boys and girls, allcame forth to engage in this occupation, and all alike seemed to havebeen there for years, and to belong to the very antiquity of theregion.
Keenly as the boys were enjoying the ride, they all seemed to bedisinclined to talk, and the first break in the silence came when theflash of the great river was perceived beyond the distant trees. Soonthey came to a spot from which the swiftly moving waters could be moreclearly seen, and then their driver turned into the road which ranalong the bank, and the river was all the time within sight.
It was a marvellously impressive scene. The glory of the coming daywas almost upon them. The fertile farm-lands, the thriving farmers,the cattle huddled together near the barns, or already trailing offfor the distant pastures, driven, perhaps, by some barefooted boy; theevidences of life and civilization on all sides, were supplemented bythe swiftly moving waters of the mighty river from which they wereseldom able to remove their gaze.
It was not long afterward when they arrived at the Landing, and allother thoughts were forgotten in the eagerness with which they lookedbefore them to discover some trace of their boatmen.
These were speedily found, and as they declared that all things werein readiness for the expedition of the day, our boys were soon onboard the skiffs, which were as beautiful and shapely as those theyhad 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 hiscompanions at once had a feeling of implicit confidence in him as hequietly greeted them. Ben and Bert were in the other skiff, and withtheir boatman, a much older man than George, were the first to leavethe dock, and soon had disappeared from the sight of their friends asthey 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. Younever can tell what'll happen."
He rested a moment upon his oars, and after baiting the hooks withfrogs, cast the lines into the water and, taking up his oars, againheld the boat closer to the shore, and prevented it from moving toofast in the swift current.
The rods, as Ethan had foretold, were very different from those whichthe boys had previously used. They were short, stout hickory poles,and the reels were several times as large as the ones to which theyhad been accustomed. Indeed, they seemed like small wheels, four orfive inches in diameter; but as Jock settled back into his chair inthe stern and began to pay out his line, he could see that Bob, whosechair was on the other side of the boatman, was as content as he, andno questions were asked.
For a time the boys gave themselves up to the enjoyment of themorning, after George had declared that they had enough line out. Thesun was now to be seen above the eastern horizon, and was floodingthe earth with its glory. Birds were singing in the bushes on theshore, the sparkling waters were rushing on with unabated speed, andthe beautiful skiff seemed to be a part of the scene itself, andalmost to belong to the river. George was watching the lines of theboys, though they themselves were unmindful of them, as the boat wascarried 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. Hesoon discovered that something was pulling sturdily back, but hereeled steadily, and as he glanced down into the water, he could see afish fast to his hook.
"Pike," said George, quietly. "Reel him in. Be careful! Don't give himany slack. There! That's the way," he added, as with a quick movementof 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 thanthat 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, andwere waiting for the welcome tug which would indicate that the longedfor strike had been made.
Bob was the next to reel in his line, and to his delight he discoveredthat 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 thestream, and for the time the thoughts of the rapids were forgotten inthe excitement of the present occupation.
"This fishing doesn't amount to much," said George, quietly, as heremoved Jock's latest catch. "When we get below the rapids yonderwe'll be more likely to find 'em."
At his words the boys glanced up, and the sight before them almostdrove the color from their faces. Far in advance they could see thetossing waters of the Longue Seaut Rapids. A whirling mass of waterseemed to stretch away in the distance as far as they could see. Thewaves tossed and rose and fell, and the air was filled with clouds ofspray. The rocks along the shore were at times almost hidden fromsight as the mad river dashed against them. A roaring sound seemed tofill the air, and already the boat appeared to feel the quickenedmovement of the river, for all about them the St. Lawrence was movingforward, swift and silent, as if it, too, had drawn in its breath forthat fearful plunge into the tossing, heaving, boiling, boisterousmass before it.
Not far in advance they could see a great island, which seemed topresent a point to the advancing river. At all events the watersdivided there, and along each side went rushing on to the calmerregions below.
"Whew!" said Jock, drawing a long breath. "Then that's the LongueSeaut, is it?"
"Yes," replied George, quietly, as if the awe-inspiring sight producedno 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 lowvoice.
"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 thedistance. The fact that they were to go through the "Little" Seaut,instead of the Big, did not seem to afford any great amount ofcomfort; but neither spoke, and their boatman, they had alreadydiscovered, was very different from Ethan, and not inclined toconversation 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 liethere for what they want to come down the stream, and then they dartout 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 alight pole and went out to one of the projecting rocks. There hefished for a few minutes, and after he had secured a half-dozengood-sized "chubs," he returned to the place on the shore where theboys were waiting for him and said,--
"On and on moved the swift-flying skiff."--_Page 269._]
"Get aboard, now. We'll shoot the rapids, though I haven't as many ofthe 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 theirseats on board, Their faces were streaming with perspiration, thoughas a matter of fact the warm rays of the sun had little to do withthat. They could not remove their gaze from that terror-inspiringscene, and as George drew back his sleeves and grasped his oars, they,too, unconsciously grasped the sides of the boat as if they wereseeking for some protection.
No one spoke now, and soon the little skiff was caught in the currentand began to dart forward with ever-increasing speed. George's facewas set and hard, and he, too, occasionally glanced behind him as ifhe was striving to get his bearings.
On and on moved the swift-flying skiff, and then, almost before theboys were aware of it, they were caught in the foaming rapids andswept forward with incredible speed. The boatman was not rowing now,only striving, with an occasional use of one oar, to keep the bow ofthe skiff pointed straight down the river.
A moment later and they were in the midst of the roar, and the swiftlymoving skiff increased its speed. Jock was aware of Bob's whitecountenance, and somehow felt rather than saw that the trees and rocksalong the shore were rushing rapidly past them. He had no thought oftime. He was too excited even to feel afraid. The boat was dartingmadly forward, and almost before he was aware of it they had gainedthe foot of the island, and there he discovered that the two parts ofthe rapids came together and the loud roaring became deeper andstronger.
Out into the united channel the frail skiff was swept, and then thecurrent bore them with the speed of a race-horse straight across theriver, till it seemed as if nothing could save them from being dashedupon 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 soundof his voice had he tried to speak aloud to his companions. He was,however, constantly alert, and with an occasional quick strong pullupon one of his oars, kept the boat headed aright.
Just before the skiff came to the shore, and it seemed as if nothingcould save them, there was a sharp turn in the current. InstantlyGeorge drove one oar deep into the water, and putting forth all hisstrength, brought the skiff aright, and then it dashed forward downthe stream.
There was a grating sound as the boat touched a rock that came closeup to the surface, but as the boys, with still paler faces, glancedover the sides to look at the bottom, they were swept onward, and in amoment the peril was passed.
Soon the waters were calmer, and though running swiftly, were not soboisterous, and the tossing waves were all behind them. As Jockglanced 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 westruck 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 aminute."
"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 aheadof 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 theriver."
George turned the skiff, and with a few short, powerful strokes, sentthe 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 wasseparated from the rushing current. It seemed strange and almostunnatural, but the dividing line was plainly to be discerned, and,besides, the skiff was as motionless as if it had been resting on asheltered pond.
To make them still more secure, however, George dropped the anchoroverboard, and then baiting the hooks with the large chubs, threw theminto 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 thissheltered spot.
