Toilers of the Trails
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ON CAME THE STRANGE PAIR
TOILERS
OF THE TRAILS
BY
GEORGE MARSH
Illustrated by
Frank E. Schoonover
THE PENN PUBLISHING
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
1921
COPYRIGHT
1921 BY
THE PENN
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
For permission to reprint some of the stories in this volume, the author is indebted to the courtesy of the editors of Scribner's Magazine, The Century Magazine and The Red Book Magazine.
Contents
Illustrations
On came the strange pair Frontispiece "I am François Hertel" 80 "Dem papier say one t'ousand dollar" 189 The Prince slashed with his sharp teeth 109 The freezing man was dragged to safety 122 "Up dere," he said, pointing with a shaking finger 139 The rifle flew to his shoulder 174 Again at his signal the crew thrust the boat forward 221 Gordon drank in the beauty of the picture 228
THE OLD CANOE
My seams gape wide, so I'm tossed aside
To rot on a lonely shore
While the leaves and mould like a shroud enfold.
For the last of my trails are o'er;
But I float in dreams on Northland streams
That never again I'll see.
As I lie on the marge of the old portage
With grief for company.
When the sunset gilds the timbered hills
That guard Timagami,
And the moonbeams play on far James Bay
By the brink of the frozen sea.
In phantom guise my spirit flies
As the dream-blades dip and swing
Where the waters flow from the Long Ago
In the spell of the beck'ning spring.
Do the cow-moose call on the Montreal
When the first frost bites the air.
And the mists unfold from the red and gold
That the autumn ridges wear?
When the white falls roar as they did of yore
On the Lady Evelyn,
Do the square-tail leap from the black pools deep
Where the pictured rocks begin?
Oh! the fur-fleets sing on Timiskaming
As the ashen paddles bend.
And the crews carouse at Rupert House
At the sullen winter's end;
But my days are done where the lean wolves run
And I ripple no more the path
Where the gray geese race 'cross the red moon's face
From the white wind's Arctic wrath.
Tho' the death-fraught way from the Saguenay
To the storied Nipigon
Once knew me well, now a crumbling shell
I watch the years roll on.
While in memory's haze I live the days
That forever are gone from me.
As I rot on the marge of the old portage
With grief for company.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published in 1921, before the cutoff of January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1945, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 78 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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