The Blue Flower [34]
air,
the distant drumming of the grouse on his log, the rumble of
the water-fall in the River of Rocks. The spray cooled his
face. He saw the fish rising along the pool, and a stag
feeding among the lily-pads.
"I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Wilson," said he at
last, when the elder man stopped talking. "You have certainly
treated me most generously. The only question is, whether--
But to-morrow night, I think, with your consent, I will speak
to your daughter. To-night I am going down to the store;
there is a good deal of work to do on the books."
But when Luke came to the store, he did not go in. He
walked along the street till he came to the river.
The water-side was strangely deserted. Everybody was at
supper. A couple of schooners were moored at the wharf. The
Portland steamer had gone out. The row-boats hung idle at their
little dock. Down the river, drifting and dancing lightly over
the opalescent ripples, following the gentle turns of the current
which flowed past the end of the dock where Luke was standing,
came a white canoe, empty and astray.
III
The White Canoe
"That looks just like my old canoe," said he. "Somebody must
have left it adrift up the river. I wonder how it floated
down here without being picked up." He put out his hand and
caught it, as it touched the dock.
In the stern a good paddle of maple-wood was lying; in the
middle there was a roll of blankets and a pack of camp-stuff; in
the bow a rifle.
"All ready for a trip," he laughed. "Nobody going but me?
Well, then, au large!" And stepping into the canoe he
pushed out on the river.
The saffron and golden lights in the sky diffused
themselves over the surface of the water, and spread from the bow
of the canoe in deeper waves of purple and orange, as he paddled
swiftly up stream. The pale yellow gas-lamps of the town faded
behind him. The lumber-yards and factories and disconsolate
little houses of the outskirts seemed to melt away. In a little
while he was floating between dark walls of forest, through the
heart of the wilderness.
The night deepened around him and the sky hung out its
thousand lamps. Odours of the woods floated on the air: the
spicy fragrance of the firs; the breath of hidden banks of
twin-flower. Muskrats swam noiselessly in the shadows, diving
with a great commotion as the canoe ran upon them suddenly.
A horned owl hooted from the branch of a dead pine-tree; far
back in the forest a fox barked twice. The moon crept up
behind the wall of trees and touched the stream with silver.
Presently the forest receded: the banks of the river grew
broad and open; the dew glistened on the tall grass; it was
surely the River of Meadows. Far ahead of him in a bend of
the stream, Luke's ear caught a new sound: SLOSH, SLOSH, SLOSH,
as if some heavy animal were crossing the wet meadow. Then a
great splash! Luke swung the canoe into the shadow of the bank
and paddled fast. As he turned the point a black bear came out
of the river, and stood on the shore, shaking the water around
him in glittering spray. Ping! said the rifle, and the bear
fell. "Good luck!" said Luke. "I haven't forgotten how,
after all. I'll take him into the canoe, and dress him up at
the camp."
Yes, there was the little cabin at the meeting of the
rivers. The door was padlocked, but Luke knew how to pry off
one of the staples. Squirrels had made a litter on the floor,
but that was soon swept out, and a fire crackled in the stove.
There was tea and ham and bread in the pack in the canoe.
Supper never tasted better. "One more night in the old camp,"
said Luke as he rolled himself in the blanket and dropped
asleep in a moment.
The sun shone in at the door and woke him. "I must have
a trout for breakfast," he cried, "there's one waiting for me
at the mouth of Alder Brook, I suppose." So he caught up his
rod from behind the door, and got into the canoe and paddled
up the River of Rocks. There was the broad, dark pool, like a
little lake, with a rapid
the distant drumming of the grouse on his log, the rumble of
the water-fall in the River of Rocks. The spray cooled his
face. He saw the fish rising along the pool, and a stag
feeding among the lily-pads.
"I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Wilson," said he at
last, when the elder man stopped talking. "You have certainly
treated me most generously. The only question is, whether--
But to-morrow night, I think, with your consent, I will speak
to your daughter. To-night I am going down to the store;
there is a good deal of work to do on the books."
But when Luke came to the store, he did not go in. He
walked along the street till he came to the river.
The water-side was strangely deserted. Everybody was at
supper. A couple of schooners were moored at the wharf. The
Portland steamer had gone out. The row-boats hung idle at their
little dock. Down the river, drifting and dancing lightly over
the opalescent ripples, following the gentle turns of the current
which flowed past the end of the dock where Luke was standing,
came a white canoe, empty and astray.
III
The White Canoe
"That looks just like my old canoe," said he. "Somebody must
have left it adrift up the river. I wonder how it floated
down here without being picked up." He put out his hand and
caught it, as it touched the dock.
In the stern a good paddle of maple-wood was lying; in the
middle there was a roll of blankets and a pack of camp-stuff; in
the bow a rifle.
"All ready for a trip," he laughed. "Nobody going but me?
Well, then, au large!" And stepping into the canoe he
pushed out on the river.
The saffron and golden lights in the sky diffused
themselves over the surface of the water, and spread from the bow
of the canoe in deeper waves of purple and orange, as he paddled
swiftly up stream. The pale yellow gas-lamps of the town faded
behind him. The lumber-yards and factories and disconsolate
little houses of the outskirts seemed to melt away. In a little
while he was floating between dark walls of forest, through the
heart of the wilderness.
The night deepened around him and the sky hung out its
thousand lamps. Odours of the woods floated on the air: the
spicy fragrance of the firs; the breath of hidden banks of
twin-flower. Muskrats swam noiselessly in the shadows, diving
with a great commotion as the canoe ran upon them suddenly.
A horned owl hooted from the branch of a dead pine-tree; far
back in the forest a fox barked twice. The moon crept up
behind the wall of trees and touched the stream with silver.
Presently the forest receded: the banks of the river grew
broad and open; the dew glistened on the tall grass; it was
surely the River of Meadows. Far ahead of him in a bend of
the stream, Luke's ear caught a new sound: SLOSH, SLOSH, SLOSH,
as if some heavy animal were crossing the wet meadow. Then a
great splash! Luke swung the canoe into the shadow of the bank
and paddled fast. As he turned the point a black bear came out
of the river, and stood on the shore, shaking the water around
him in glittering spray. Ping! said the rifle, and the bear
fell. "Good luck!" said Luke. "I haven't forgotten how,
after all. I'll take him into the canoe, and dress him up at
the camp."
Yes, there was the little cabin at the meeting of the
rivers. The door was padlocked, but Luke knew how to pry off
one of the staples. Squirrels had made a litter on the floor,
but that was soon swept out, and a fire crackled in the stove.
There was tea and ham and bread in the pack in the canoe.
Supper never tasted better. "One more night in the old camp,"
said Luke as he rolled himself in the blanket and dropped
asleep in a moment.
The sun shone in at the door and woke him. "I must have
a trout for breakfast," he cried, "there's one waiting for me
at the mouth of Alder Brook, I suppose." So he caught up his
rod from behind the door, and got into the canoe and paddled
up the River of Rocks. There was the broad, dark pool, like a
little lake, with a rapid