The Sky Is Curved Downward To The Earth In The Horizon,
Because We Stand On The Plain.
I draw down its skirts.
The
stars so low there seem loath to depart, but by a circuitous path
to be remembering me, and returning on their steps.
We had already passed by broad daylight the scene of our
encampment at Coos Falls, and at length we pitched our camp on
the west bank, in the northern part of Merrimack, nearly opposite
to the large island on which we had spent the noon in our way up
the river.
There we went to bed that summer evening, on a sloping shelf in
the bank, a couple of rods from our boat, which was drawn up on
the sand, and just behind a thin fringe of oaks which bordered
the river; without having disturbed any inhabitants but the
spiders in the grass, which came out by the light of our lamp,
and crawled over our buffaloes. When we looked out from under
the tent, the trees were seen dimly through the mist, and a cool
dew hung upon the grass, which seemed to rejoice in the night,
and with the damp air we inhaled a solid fragrance. Having eaten
our supper of hot cocoa and bread and watermelon, we soon grew
weary of conversing, and writing in our journals, and, putting
out the lantern which hung from the tent-pole, fell asleep.
Unfortunately, many things have been omitted which should have
been recorded in our journal; for though we made it a rule to set
down all our experiences therein, yet such a resolution is very
hard to keep, for the important experience rarely allows us to
remember such obligations, and so indifferent things get
recorded, while that is frequently neglected. It is not easy to
write in a journal what interests us at any time, because to
write it is not what interests us.
Whenever we awoke in the night, still eking out our dreams with
half-awakened thoughts, it was not till after an interval, when
the wind breathed harder than usual, flapping the curtains of the
tent, and causing its cords to vibrate, that we remembered that
we lay on the bank of the Merrimack, and not in our chamber at
home. With our heads so low in the grass, we heard the river
whirling and sucking, and lapsing downward, kissing the shore as
it went, sometimes rippling louder than usual, and again its
mighty current making only a slight limpid, trickling sound, as
if our water-pail had sprung a leak, and the water were flowing
into the grass by our side. The wind, rustling the oaks and
hazels, impressed us like a wakeful and inconsiderate person up
at midnight, moving about, and putting things to rights,
occasionally stirring up whole drawers full of leaves at a puff.
There seemed to be a great haste and preparation throughout
Nature, as for a distinguished visitor; all her aisles had to be
swept in the night, by a thousand hand-maidens, and a thousand
pots to be boiled for the next day's feasting; - such a whispering
bustle, as if ten thousand fairies made their fingers fly,
silently sewing at the new carpet with which the earth was to be
clothed, and the new drapery which was to adorn the trees. And
then the wind would lull and die away, and we like it fell asleep
again.
-
FRIDAY.
"The Boteman strayt
Held on his course with stayed stedfastnesse,
Ne ever shroncke, ne ever sought to bayt
His tryed armes for toylesome wearinesse;
But with his oares did sweepe the watry wildernesse."
^Spenser.^
-
"Summer's robe grows
Dusky, and like an oft-dyed garment shows."
^Donne.^
-
FRIDAY.
- * -
As we lay awake long before daybreak, listening to the rippling
of the river, and the rustling of the leaves, in suspense whether
the wind blew up or down the stream, was favorable or unfavorable
to our voyage, we already suspected that there was a change in
the weather, from a freshness as of autumn in these sounds. The
wind in the woods sounded like an incessant waterfall dashing and
roaring amid rocks, and we even felt encouraged by the unusual
activity of the elements. He who hears the rippling of rivers in
these degenerate days will not utterly despair. That night was
the turning-point in the season. We had gone to bed in summer,
and we awoke in autumn; for summer passes into autumn in some
unimaginable point of time, like the turning of a leaf.
We found our boat in the dawn just as we had left it, and as if
waiting for us, there on the shore, in autumn, all cool and
dripping with dew, and our tracks still fresh in the wet sand
around it, the fairies all gone or concealed. Before five
o'clock we pushed it into the fog, and, leaping in, at one shove
were out of sight of the shores, and began to sweep downward with
the rushing river, keeping a sharp lookout for rocks. We could
see only the yellow gurgling water, and a solid bank of fog on
every side, forming a small yard around us. We soon passed the
mouth of the Souhegan, and the village of Merrimack, and as the
mist gradually rolled away, and we were relieved from the trouble
of watching for rocks, we saw by the flitting clouds, by the
first russet tinge on the hills, by the rushing river, the
cottages on shore, and the shore itself, so coolly fresh and
shining with dew, and later in the day, by the hue of the
grape-vine, the goldfinch on the willow, the flickers flying in
flocks, and when we passed near enough to the shore, as we
fancied, by the faces of men, that the Fall had commenced. The
cottages looked more snug and comfortable, and their inhabitants
were seen only for a moment, and then went quietly in and shut
the door, retreating inward to the haunts of summer.
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