"Now, bears have a way," continued Marco, "whenever they are angry with anything, of grasping it in their arms and hugging it tight. The man did not think of this; he only hoped that the saw would saw the bear in two. The log moved on nearer and nearer, and at last brought the bear along so far that the next stroke cut right down his back. He immediately turned around and seized the saw, and hugged it with all his strength, and it tore him all to pieces."
"Indeed," said Forester. "That is quite a story."
Forester did not seem so much astonished at this account as Marco had expected, but farther conversation on the subject was prevented by the occurring of a new object of attention. The millman began to make arrangements for drawing up more logs from the water of the river, by means of a long chain passing around a revolving axis, in the manner which has been already explained.
Marco watched the first log, as it came slowly up, and then he wanted to go down the inclined plane to the water below. The moon was just rising, which gave them sufficient light, and so Forester and Marco went down. Marco wanted to ride up on the next log, but Forester thought that that would be a very dangerous experiment. There was, however, a boat lying there, which, Forester said, perhaps they might get into, and take a little excursion upon the water, by moonlight. Marco thought that he should like that very well, and so he went up into the mill again, to ask permission to take the boat. The millman said that they might have the boat all night, if they wanted it.
Marco accordingly returned down the inclined plane, telling Forester that they could have the boat. But Forester, who began to find the evening air too cold and chilly, said that he did not think it was worth while for them to set out on a voyage at so late an hour. But Marco's imagination was so much taken with the idea of a voyage in a boat by moonlight, that he was very urgent to have Forester go. So Forester consented, and they both got into the boat.
"Which way shall we steer?" asked Marco.
"We must go up the stream," said Forester.
"Why must we?" asked Marco.
"Because there is a dam and a waterfall below us," replied Forester.
There was a dam across the river, at the mill, and the inclined plane, which led from the floor of the mill down to the shore of the river, terminated at the edge of the water just above the dam. The water was so low that it did not fall over the dam near the shore, though Forester and Marco could hear the roaring of the water, which fell over the dam nearer the middle of the river.
"We must take care," said Marco, "or we shall get carried over the dam. I read of an Indian once, who was carried over the falls of Niagara."
"Yes," said Forester; "we must be careful."
Forester turned the head of the boat up the river, keeping near the shore, so as to avoid all possibility of being carried over the dam. The boat shot along swiftly through the water.
"The boat goes very well," said Marco.
"Yes," replied Forester; "and yet it is only a log canoe."
"A log canoe," said Marco. "Is this only a log canoe?"
"That is all," replied Forester. "It is made of a log, hollowed out. They use a great many such boats on this river. They go very easily with paddles."
Forester and Marco both had paddles. Marco sat about in the middle of the boat, but Forester sat in the stern, propelling the boat and steering it at the same time. When they got up a little way above the dam, they went out farther towards the middle of the river. Forester soon became warm by the exercise of paddling, and had no disposition to return. They both found it very romantic and delightful to glide smoothly over the glassy surface of the water, which was silvered by the moonbeams.
They soon came to a turn in the river, which carried them away from the sight of the mills and the dam, and brought them under high banks, which, in some places, presented rocky cliffs to the view, and, in others, were covered with forests. This scenery had a peculiarly sombre and solemn expression, seen thus, under the light of the moon. Marco gazed at it in silence, and with a feeling of awe.
They went on in this manner for half an hour, until they found themselves approaching a rocky island, crowned with forests. Marco wanted to land upon it.
"Very well," said Forester; "I have no objection; but would you not rather go back?"
"No," said Marco. "I want to explore this island."
"But are you not cold?" asked Forester.
"No," said Marco, "not at all."
"My hands and feet are a little cold," said Forester.
"Then we will go back pretty soon," said Marco, "but first just let us land a minute upon this island."
So Forester turned the head of the boat towards the shore, and Marco, as soon as it touched, scrambled out upon the rocks.
"Oh, Forester!" he exclaimed, at once, "here is plenty of drift-wood. Let us make a fire, and warm your hands and feet."
"Drift-wood?" rejoined Forester. "Will drift-wood make a fire?"
"Why not?" asked Marco.
"I should think it would be too wet," replied Forester.
Marco said no more, but, at that instant, Forester observed a little flash, and then a faint glimmer of light where Marco was. He had lighted a match by rubbing it against some drift-wood. He touched it to some dry bark, and soon had a pleasant little blaze upon the rocks, near the shore. He piled on pieces of drift-wood, such as branches of trees, old slabs, &c., which he found lying about there, and he soon had a very good fire. Forester sat down upon the rocks, and warmed his hands and feet.
"I wish I had a hatchet here," said Marco, "or an axe."
"Why?" asked Forester.
"Why, we could make a camp, and lie here all night," said Marco.
"O, no," said Forester.
"Yes," said Marco, "for the man said we might have his boat all night."
"No," replied Forester. "We will camp out when we get fairly into the forests on Dead river."
Accordingly, after a little time, when the fire had burnt down somewhat, they threw the brands into the river, and then, embarking in their boat, they returned to the mill.
CHAPTER VIII. THE BIVOUACK.
Marco and Forester had an opportunity to encamp for the night, in the woods, in a manner different from what they expected. It happened in this way. In the course of their rambles among the forests which are about the lakes and the upper branches of the Kennebec, they came, one night, to a farm-house, where they had to spend the night. The house was built of logs. It was in a small opening in the woods. This opening was occupied with fields, which were divided from each other by log fences. The fields were full of stumps. The whole opening was bordered on every side by a perpendicular wall of forest,-the tall stems forming a colonnade, which reminded Marco of the palisades on the North river, just above New York.
There was but one room in this log house, and, at first, Marco did not know where he and Forester were to sleep. There was a great blazing fire in the fire-place, which was made of rough stones. The hearth was made of great flat stones. These stones were tolerably smooth on the upper side; but, as they were not square, there were many spaces left between them, and at the corners, which were filled with earth. But, though the fire-place was rough, the great fire blazed merrily in it; and Marco thought that it was pleasanter than his father's marble fire-place, in New York, with a grate in it, filled with a hard coal fire, looking like red-hot stones.
"I wish we had such a fire-place as this in New York," said Marco.
"And wood to burn in it," replied Forester.
"O, we can get wood enough in New York," said Marco. "The carmen bring it along every morning. We might have such a fire-place down in the basement, or in that little room in the stable, and then I would go and build fires in it."
Just then, the farmer's wife came with a spider to the fire, to broil some chickens for their supper. She pulled out the coals with a long-handled iron shovel, which she called a slice. She cooked the young travellers a most excellent supper.