Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1895-06-12
THE DOOMED SKATER.

w
and myself, in the toughest township Of
upper Canada. Twenty years are in
their graves since then-20 years rung
out and rung in by the clang of the
woodman's ax-and still that township
lies in the heart of its primeval forest.
Clotted woods overhang the solitary vii
lage, composed of a few log huts, night
ly drenched as with a death sweat
from the malaria of the swamp. But we
came, young and impressionable, from
the old country on a venturous quest
after fortune, and the disheveled will
derness of thicket had its charms for us.
A river reft the huge tangle Of the
woods with it's dark, sluggish waters,
which crept and oozed in among decay
ing trees on either side. Banks there
were none, and the bleached skeletons
of the rotten trees alone marked off the
channel of the river from the dark fen,
fetid with myriad impurities. Such was
the aspect of the melancholy Scugog.
Our village was by no means a large
one. The scattered huts which made it
up had been knocked together by a
sprinkling of hardy pioneers on soli-
tary bluff which repelled the river from
its base and gave the fearless settlers
some ground of vantage over the sur
rounding swamp. There was not, how
ever, much cleared ground-nay, very
little. Everywhere we were hemmed in
by battalion after battalion of monoto-
nous trees AS for our fellow settlers, we
found them of a piece with the country
rough and hardy, as they had need
to be who 20 years ago colonized the
Scugog.
We were twins, Jack and I, but other
wise unlike. He was fine fellow. I
acknowledged his supremacy and re-
joiced in his bold, free spirits From
his childhood he had been the most i'm
pulsive creature that ever pointed a
moral for headlong youth. Ever in
scrapes and difficulties, but never to his
dishonor, Jack fought one-half his &C.
quaintances into loving him, which the
rest did of their own free will, and my
heart still warns involuntarily toward
the wild, impulsive boy, with his head
strong soul all agog for mischief.
I confess I was somewhat dismayed
by the aspect of our new country. Fresh
from the sunny lanes Of Kent and the
loved circle at home, could it be other
wise? But as for Jack, he was in rap
lures with everything that disquieted
me- Nothing was more charmingly ro-
mantle than our hut on the bluff and
no river could equal the brown, melan-
choly Scugog.
We did not settle down to the regula-
ton life of the settler all at once. We
determined to sip the nectar Of life on
the Scugog, if indeed there was any of
that ambrosial draft to be drained in
the township The fascination of the
swift canoe kept us almost constantly
on the dark, mysterious river, and, in
truth, there was scarcely any other out
let from our dwelling save on its wa
ters. By day we fshed, and we shot
from our frail skiffs, and by night, when
the moon was up, we would paddle
them in her silvery wake.
have said that few rough settlers
formed our society on the Scugog.
Among them were some half breeds-a
species of degenerate Indian-who had
sunk from the dignity of forest life to
the servitude and buffeting of the white
settlers They were lazy, good for moth
ing fellows, except in the matter OF
fishing or shooting, wherein they were
profcients. We found them useful in
giving instruction in the canoe life of
our river home. preferred for my own
part, to go pretty much by myself on
our water excursions. Jack, however,
had no such idea of placid enjoyment,
and speedily leaving me to my aquatic
reveries he hired a hang dog looking
scoundrel named Olier to assist him in
the management Of his canoe. I am no
great disciple of Lavater, but I never
liked that half breed. All these dregs of
Indian nobility are sallow, blear eyed
creatures, with a world of cunning, but
this fellow was chief of them all for ev-
erv repulsive trait Of course Jack ridi-
culed my sentiments about his new
servitor He was match for half a
dozen-2O fellows like Olier, he said,
and it was all right, and 1 was not to
bother my head about him.
1t was getting late in the fall. The
indian summer-that beautiful dream
of loveliness-had restored to Us i'll
evanescent beauty the glories of Cara
dian autumn The forests were as gay
with color as herald's tabard, and the
air was yet balmy with the lingering
sweetness Of summer. One exquisite
evening, born of one Of these lovely
days, was listlessly smoking as I lay
on the top of the bluff, vacantly sketch
ing home landscapes in the dark Scugog
rolling beneath A canoe shot round the
bend of the river below the village. 1t
was padded by solitary figure, who
turned out to be Jack knew he had
gone down the Scugog to fish along with
Olier, but now no half breed squatted in
the opposite end of the canoe. A vague
dread seized upon me as Jack, running
his little bark sheer up the bank, shoul-
dered his paddle and marched up to me-
elbow now, Jack? What have you
done with your charming companion?,
] inquired, Disgusting my conjectural
fear.
"Gad I don't know" replied my
brother, sitting down oriental fashion
| beside me-
"Not know?"
"Not bit" was his answer. Chow
should I be acquainted with all the ins
and outs of that Rosamond's bowerT