During The Heat Of The Day, We Rested On A Large Island A Mile
Above The Mouth Of This River, Pastured By A Herd Of Cattle, With
Steep Banks And Scattered Elms And Oaks, And A Sufficient Channel
For Canal-Boats On Each Side.
When we made a fire to boil some
rice for our dinner, the flames spreading amid the dry grass,
And
the smoke curling silently upward and casting grotesque shadows
on the ground, seemed phenomena of the noon, and we fancied that
we progressed up the stream without effort, and as naturally as
the wind and tide went down, not outraging the calm days by
unworthy bustle or impatience. The woods on the neighboring
shore were alive with pigeons, which were moving south, looking
for mast, but now, like ourselves, spending their noon in the
shade. We could hear the slight, wiry, winnowing sound of their
wings as they changed their roosts from time to time, and their
gentle and tremulous cooing. They sojourned with us during the
noontide, greater travellers far than we. You may frequently
discover a single pair sitting upon the lower branches of the
white-pine in the depths of the wood, at this hour of the day, so
silent and solitary, and with such a hermit-like appearance, as
if they had never strayed beyond its skirts, while the acorn
which was gathered in the forests of Maine is still undigested in
their crops. We obtained one of these handsome birds, which
lingered too long upon its perch, and plucked and broiled it here
with some other game, to be carried along for our supper; for,
beside the provisions which we carried with us, we depended
mainly on the river and forest for our supply. It is true, it
did not seem to be putting this bird to its right use to pluck
off its feathers, and extract its entrails, and broil its carcass
on the coals; but we heroically persevered, nevertheless, waiting
for further information. The same regard for Nature which
excited our sympathy for her creatures nerved our hands to carry
through what we had begun. For we would be honorable to the
party we deserted; we would fulfil fate, and so at length,
perhaps, detect the secret innocence of these incessant tragedies
which Heaven allows.
"Too quick resolves do resolution wrong,
What, part so soon to be divorced so long?
Things to be done are long to be debated;
Heaven is not day'd, Repentance is not dated."
We are double-edged blades, and every time we whet our virtue the
return stroke straps our vice. Where is the skilful swordsman who
can give clean wounds, and not rip up his work with the other
edge?
Nature herself has not provided the most graceful end for her
creatures. What becomes of all these birds that people the air
and forest for our solacement? The sparrows seem always
_chipper_, never infirm. We do not see their bodies lie about.
Yet there is a tragedy at the end of each one of their lives.
They must perish miserably; not one of them is translated.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 125 of 221
Words from 65434 to 65955
of 116321
