The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1883-11-08
Tho IsottomlOss Sagucnny.

This river Of death of Sagucnay, is
Dottomlcss. You might. if possible,
drain the St. Lawrence river dry, says
MI. lie NlOine, the Canadian authority,
and yet this dark, still river would be
able to float the Great Eastern aud all
her majeSty'S ships of the line. "a
| DottOmleSS rlvcr' sounds strangely new; ;
indeed, were it not SO | Should not
trouble you or myself to mention it,
But this river is thus far unfathomcd.
1t is full Of counter currents, swift.
pcrllouS III the extreme. AS the vast
| red moon comes ShOultlcring llp out of
| the st. Lawrence away above toward
the sea and stood there a glowing period
10 great day, we draw back from
| IadouSac, where tho ancient church
SITS III the tawnsy sand and scattering
| grassland, rounding granite headland,
we slowly steamed up the silent riyCr of
death. 1t widencd little us wc went
forward, but even its mile of water
looked narrow enough rs we crept up
between the great naked walls of slate
ana granite that shut out these dark
waters from every living thing. On
The right hand great, naked and mono
tonous capcs of slate and topping
granite. On the left hand, granite and
slate and granite, and all silent. all new
and nude, as if just fallen half finished
from Gods hand. One mile, two miles.
twenty miles, and only the weary wall
or granite and slate; only the great
massive mOnOt0ny of nude and uncOm-
plctcd earth. Now the walls would
seem TO close in before us and bar all
possible advance. Then us we round
cu another weary and eternal cape Of
oVerhangng granite, in its few fright
encd and torn trees, tho dark way
would open before u.s. And ten, twen-
ty, thirty miles more Of silence, gloom,
river OF death. No sound. No sign of
iile IS here. Summer or winter, spring.
Ilmc or autumn, I'LL seasons alike, no
Dlrd, no beast, not even the smallest in-
sect, save only Il possible houscily that
may harbor III the steamboat and SO be
brought with you, is ever seen here
This is literally the river of death. [
know no spot like ii on the face of this
earth. Our deserts with their owls.
horn-toads, prairie dogs, and rattle
snakes are p0pulouS with life in COM
parlson. And yet this awful absence of
all kinds Of life con not be duo to the
waters. They arc famous for fish of the
best kind. The air is certainly delicious.
6uC all this vast rivers shore is as
empty OIL lllc as When "darkneSS was
upon the face Of the deep"
And no man has settled here. For
nearly 100 miles not sign of man is
seen. You seem to he a sort of Colum-
DuS, as If no man had ever been here
before you. At every turn of great
granite cape these lines rhymcd inces-
sanity in my ears:
Upon that silent sea-
An hour past midnight and we near.
ed the central object of the journey.
Cape Trinity, Il granite wall Of about
1000 feet, which in places literally
ovcrhangs the ship. Our captain laid
the vessel closely against the monolitn,
and for moment rested there. We
seemed SO small. The great steamer
was as little top, held out there in the
hollow Of Gods hand.
No sound anywhere. No sign OF life,
OF light, save the moon, that filled the
canyon with her silver and lit the amber
river of death with tender and an al
Turing light. No lighthouse, no light
from The habitations of man far away
on tho mountains; only the stars that
hung above us, locked in the stony he'll
NETS of their everlasting hills.