The Crossing [67]
grinning, as he wiped his face.
``If any man deserts this camp to-night,'' cried Colonel Clark, swinging around, ``I swear by God to have him chased and brought back and punished as he deserves. Captain Harrod, set a guard.''
I pass quickly over the rest of the incident. How the Holston men and some others escaped in the night in spite of our guard, and swam the river on logs. How at dawn we found them gone, and Kenton and Harrod and brave Captain Montgomery set out in pursuit, with Cowan and Tom and Ray. All day they rode, relentless, and the next evening returned with but eight weary and sullen fugitives of all those who had deserted.
The next day the sun rose on a smiling world, the polished reaches of the river golden mirrors reflecting the forest's green. And we were astir with the light, preparing for our journey into the unknown country. At seven we embarked by companies in the flatboats, waving a farewell to those who were to be left behind. Some stayed through inclination and disaffection: others because Colonel Clark did not deem them equal to the task. But Swein Poulsson came. With tears in his little blue eyes he had begged the Colonel to take him, and I remember him well on that June morning, his red face perspiring under the white bristles of his hair as he strained at the big oar. For we must needs pull a mile up the stream ere we could reach the passage in which to shoot downward to the Falls. Suddenly Poulsson dropped his handle, causing the boat to swing round in the stream, while the men damned him. Paying them no attention, he stood pointing into the blinding disk of the sun. Across the edge of it a piece was bitten out in blackness.
``Mein Gott!'' he cried, ``the world is being ended just now.''
``The holy saints remember us this day!'' said McCann, missing a stroke to cross himself. ``Will ye pull, ye damned Dutchman? Or we'll be the first to slide into hell. This is no kind of a place at all at all.''
By this time the men all along the line of boats had seen it, and many faltered. Clark's voice could be heard across the waters urging them to pull, while the bows swept across the current. They obeyed him, but steadily the blackness ate out the light, and a weird gloaming overspread the scene. River and forest became stern, the men silent. The more ignorant were in fear of a cataclysm, the others taking it for an omen.
``Shucks!'' said Tom, when appealed to, ``I've seed it afore, and it come all right again.''
Clark's boat rounded the shoal: next our turn came, and then the whole line was gliding down the river, the rising roar of the angry waters with which we were soon to grapple coming to us with an added grimness. And now but a faint rim of light saved us from utter darkness. Big Bill Cowan, undaunted in war, stared at me with fright written on his face.
``And what 'll ye think of it, Davy?'' he said.
I glanced at the figure of our commander in the boat ahead, and took courage.
``It's Hamilton's scalp hanging by a lock,'' I answered, pointing to what was left of the sun. ``Soon it will be off, and then we'll have light again.''
To my surprise he snatched me from the thwart and held me up with a shout, and I saw Colonel Clark turn and look back.
``Davy says the Ha'r Buyer's sculp hangs by the lock, boys, he shouted, pointing at the sun.
The word was cried from boat to boat, and we could see the men pointing upwards and laughing. And then, as the light began to grow, we were in the midst of the tumbling waters, the steersmen straining now right, now left, to keep the prows in the smooth reaches between rock and bar. We gained the still pools below, the sun came out once more and smiled on the landscape, and the spirits of the men, reviving, burst all bounds.
Thus I earned my reputation as a prophet
Four days and nights we rowed down the great river, our oars double-manned, for fear that our coming might be heralded to the French towns. We made our first camp on a green little island at the mouth of the Cherokee, as we then called
``If any man deserts this camp to-night,'' cried Colonel Clark, swinging around, ``I swear by God to have him chased and brought back and punished as he deserves. Captain Harrod, set a guard.''
I pass quickly over the rest of the incident. How the Holston men and some others escaped in the night in spite of our guard, and swam the river on logs. How at dawn we found them gone, and Kenton and Harrod and brave Captain Montgomery set out in pursuit, with Cowan and Tom and Ray. All day they rode, relentless, and the next evening returned with but eight weary and sullen fugitives of all those who had deserted.
The next day the sun rose on a smiling world, the polished reaches of the river golden mirrors reflecting the forest's green. And we were astir with the light, preparing for our journey into the unknown country. At seven we embarked by companies in the flatboats, waving a farewell to those who were to be left behind. Some stayed through inclination and disaffection: others because Colonel Clark did not deem them equal to the task. But Swein Poulsson came. With tears in his little blue eyes he had begged the Colonel to take him, and I remember him well on that June morning, his red face perspiring under the white bristles of his hair as he strained at the big oar. For we must needs pull a mile up the stream ere we could reach the passage in which to shoot downward to the Falls. Suddenly Poulsson dropped his handle, causing the boat to swing round in the stream, while the men damned him. Paying them no attention, he stood pointing into the blinding disk of the sun. Across the edge of it a piece was bitten out in blackness.
``Mein Gott!'' he cried, ``the world is being ended just now.''
``The holy saints remember us this day!'' said McCann, missing a stroke to cross himself. ``Will ye pull, ye damned Dutchman? Or we'll be the first to slide into hell. This is no kind of a place at all at all.''
By this time the men all along the line of boats had seen it, and many faltered. Clark's voice could be heard across the waters urging them to pull, while the bows swept across the current. They obeyed him, but steadily the blackness ate out the light, and a weird gloaming overspread the scene. River and forest became stern, the men silent. The more ignorant were in fear of a cataclysm, the others taking it for an omen.
``Shucks!'' said Tom, when appealed to, ``I've seed it afore, and it come all right again.''
Clark's boat rounded the shoal: next our turn came, and then the whole line was gliding down the river, the rising roar of the angry waters with which we were soon to grapple coming to us with an added grimness. And now but a faint rim of light saved us from utter darkness. Big Bill Cowan, undaunted in war, stared at me with fright written on his face.
``And what 'll ye think of it, Davy?'' he said.
I glanced at the figure of our commander in the boat ahead, and took courage.
``It's Hamilton's scalp hanging by a lock,'' I answered, pointing to what was left of the sun. ``Soon it will be off, and then we'll have light again.''
To my surprise he snatched me from the thwart and held me up with a shout, and I saw Colonel Clark turn and look back.
``Davy says the Ha'r Buyer's sculp hangs by the lock, boys, he shouted, pointing at the sun.
The word was cried from boat to boat, and we could see the men pointing upwards and laughing. And then, as the light began to grow, we were in the midst of the tumbling waters, the steersmen straining now right, now left, to keep the prows in the smooth reaches between rock and bar. We gained the still pools below, the sun came out once more and smiled on the landscape, and the spirits of the men, reviving, burst all bounds.
Thus I earned my reputation as a prophet
Four days and nights we rowed down the great river, our oars double-manned, for fear that our coming might be heralded to the French towns. We made our first camp on a green little island at the mouth of the Cherokee, as we then called