Nature drops back to solitude as easily as man to peace;--how
little this fair globe would miss mankind!
The Penobscot was all asteam with morning mist. It was blinding the sun
with a matinal oblation of incense. A crew of the profane should not
interfere with such act of worship. Sacrilege is perilous, whoever be
the God. We were instantly punished for irreverence. The first "rips"
came up-stream under cover of the mist, and took us by surprise. As we
were paddling along gently, we suddenly found ourselves in the midst of
a boiling rapid. Gnashing rocks, with cruel foam upon their lips, sprang
out of the obscure, eager to tear us. Great jaws of ugly blackness
snapped about us as if we were introduced into a coterie of crocodiles.
Symplegades clanged together behind; mighty gulfs, below seducing bends
of smooth water, awaited us before. We were in for it. We spun, whizzed,
dashed, leaped, "cavorted;" we did whatever a birch running the gantlet
of whirlpools and breakers may do, except the fatal finality of a
somerset. That we escaped, and only escaped. We had been only reckless,
not audacious; and therefore peril, not punishment, befell us.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73