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<h2> CHAPTER XX. </h2>
<p>"Away! nor let me loiter in my song,<br/>
For we have many a mountain-path to tread."<br/>
—Byron.<br/></p>
<p>As the spring gradually approached, the immense piles of snow that, by
alternate thaws and frosts, and repeated storms, had obtained a firmness
which threatened a tiresome durability, began to yield to the influence of
milder breezes and a warmer sun. The gates of heaven at times seemed to
open, and a bland air diffused itself over the earth, when animate and
inanimate nature would awaken, and, for a few hours, the gayety of spring
shone in every eye and smiled on every field. But the shivering blasts
from the north would carry their chill influence over the scene again, and
the dark and gloomy clouds that intercepted the rays of the sun were not
more cold and dreary than the reaction. These struggles between the
seasons became daily more frequent, while the earth, like a victim to
contention, slowly lost the animated brilliancy of winter, without
obtaining the aspect of spring.</p>
<p>Several weeks were consumed in this cheerless manner, during which the
inhabitants of the country gradually changed their pursuits from the
social and bustling movements of the time of snow to the laborious and
domestic engagements of the coming season, The village was no longer
thronged with visitors; the trade that had enlivened the shops for several
months, began to disappear; the highways lost their shining coats of
beaten snow in impassable sloughs, and were deserted by the gay and noisy
travellers who, in sleighs, had, during the winter, glided along their
windings; and, in short, everything seemed indicative of a mighty change,
not only in the earth, but in those who derived their sources of comfort
and happiness from its bosom.</p>
<p>The younger members of the family in the mansion house, of which Louisa
Grant was now habitually one, were by no means indifferent observers of
these fluctuating and tardy changes. While the snow rendered the roads
passable, they had partaken largely in the amusements of the winter, which
included not only daily rides over the mountains, and through every valley
within twenty miles of them, but divers ingenious and varied sources of
pleasure on the bosom of their frozen lake. There had been excursions in
the equipage of Richard, when with his four horses he had outstripped the
winds, as it flew over the glassy ice which invariably succeeded a thaw.
Then the exciting and dangerous "whirligig" would be suffered to possess
its moment of notice. Cutters, drawn by a single horse, and handsleds,
impelled by the gentlemen on skates, would each in turn be used; and, in
short, every source of relief against the tediousness of a winter in the
mountains was resorted to by the family, Elizabeth was compelled to
acknowledge to her father, that the season, with the aid of his library,
was much less irksome than she had anticipated.</p>
<p>As exercise in the open air was in some degree necessary to the habits of
the family, when the constant recurrence of frosts and thaws rendered the
roads, which were dangerous at the most favorable times, utterly
impassable for wheels, saddle-horses were used as substitutes for other
conveyances. Mounted on small and sure-footed beasts, the ladies would
again attempt the passages of the mountains and penetrate into every
retired glen where the enterprise of a settler had induced him to
establish himself. In these excursions they were attended by some one or
all of the gentlemen of the family, as their different pursuits admitted.
Young Edwards was hourly becoming more familiarized to his situation, and
not infrequently mingled in the parties with an unconcern and gayety that
for a short time would expel all unpleasant recollections from his mind.
Habit, and the buoyancy of youth, seemed to be getting the ascendency over
the secret causes of his uneasiness; though there were moments when the
same remarkable expression of disgust would cross his intercourse with
Marmaduke, that had distinguished their conversations in the first days of
their acquaintance.</p>
<p>It was at the close of the month of March, that the sheriff succeeded in
persuading his cousin and her young friend to accompany him in a ride to a
hill that was said to overhang the lake in a manner peculiar to itself.</p>
<p>"Besides, Cousin Bess," continued the indefatigable Richard, "we will stop
and see the 'sugar bush' of Billy Kirby; he is on the east end of the
Ransom lot, making sugar for Jared Ransom. There is not a better hand over
a kettle in the county than that same Kirby. You remember, 'Duke, that I
had him his first season in our camp; and it is not a wonder that he knows
something of his trade."</p>
<p>"He's a good chopper, is Billy," observed Benjamin, who held the bridle of
the horse while the sheriff mounted; "and he handles an axe much the same
as a forecastleman does his marling-spike, or a tailor his goose. They say
he'll lift a potash-kettle off the arch alone, though I can't say that
I've ever seen him do it with my own eyes; but that is the say. And I've
seen sugar of his making, which, maybe, wasn't as white as an old
topgallant sail, but which my friend, Mistress Pettibones, within there,
said had the true molasses smack to it; and you are not the one, Squire
Dickens, to be told that Mistress Remarkable has a remarkable tooth for
sweet things in her nut-grinder."</p>
<p>The loud laugh that succeeded the wit of Benjamin, and in which he
participated with no very harmonious sounds himself, very fully
illustrated the congenial temper which existed between the pair. Most of
its point was, however, lost on the rest of the party, who were either
mounting their horses or assisting the ladies at the moment. When all were
safely in their saddles, they moved through the village in great order.
They paused for a moment before the door of Monsieur Le Quoi, until he
could bestride his steed, and then, issuing from the little cluster of
houses, they took one of the principal of those highways that centred in
the village.</p>
<p>As each night brought with it a severe frost, which the heat of the
succeeding day served to dissipate, the equestrians were compelled to
proceed singly along the margin of the road, where the turf, and firmness
of the ground, gave the horses a secure footing. Very trifling indications
of vegetation were to be seen, the surface of the earth presenting a cold,
wet, and cheerless aspect that chilled the blood. The snow yet lay
scattered over most of those distant clearings that were visible in
different parts of the mountains; though here and there an opening might
be seen where, as the white covering yielded to the season, the bright and
lively green of the wheat served to enkindle the hopes of the husbandman.
Nothing could be more marked than the contrast between the earth and the
heavens; for, while the former presented the dreary view that we have
described, a warm and invigorating sun was dispensing his heats from a sky
that contained but a solitary cloud, and through an atmosphere that
softened the colors of the sensible horizon until it shone like a sea of
blue.</p>
<p>Richard led the way on this, as on all other occasions that did not
require the exercise of unusual abilities; and as he moved along, he
essayed to enliven the party with the sounds of his experienced voice.</p>
<p>"This is your true sugar weather, 'Duke," he cried; "a frosty night and a
sunshiny day. I warrant me that the sap runs like a mill-tail up the
maples this warm morning. It is a pity, Judge, that you do not introduce a
little more science into the manufactory of sugar among your tenants. It
might be done, sir, without knowing as much as Dr. Franklin—it might
be done, Judge Temple."</p>
<p>"The first object of my solicitude, friend Jones," returned Marmaduke, "is
to protect the sources of this great mine of comfort and wealth from the
extravagance of the people themselves. When this important point shall be
achieved, it will be in season to turn our attention to an improvement in
the manufacture of the article, But thou knowest, Richard, that I have
already subjected our sugar to the process of the refiner, and that the
result has produced loaves as white as the snow on yon fields, and
possessing the saccharine quality in its utmost purity."</p>
<p>"Saccharine, or turpentine, or any other 'ine, Judge Temple, you have
never made a loaf larger than a good-sized sugar-plum," returned the
sheriff. "Now, sir, I assert that no experiment is fairly tried, until it
be reduced to practical purposes. If, sir, I owned a hundred, or, for that
matter, two hundred thousand acres of land, as you do. I would build a
sugar house in the village; I would invite learned men to an investigation
of the subject—and such are easily to be found, sir; yes, sir, they
are not difficult to find—men who unite theory with practice; and I
would select a wood of young and thrifty trees; and, instead of making
loaves of the size of a lump of candy, dam'me, 'Duke, but I'd have them as
big as a haycock."</p>
<p>"And purchase the cargo of one of those ships that they say are going to
China," cried Elizabeth; "turn your pot ash-kettles into teacups, the
scows on the lake into saucers, bake your cake in yonder lime-kiln, and
invite the county to a tea-party. How wonderful are the projects of
genius! Really, sir, the world is of opinion that Judge Temple has tried
the experiment fairly, though he did not cause his loaves to be cast in
moulds of the magnitude that would suit your magnificent conceptions."</p>
<p>"You may laugh, Cousin Elizabeth—you may laugh, madam," retorted
Richard, turning himself so much in his saddle as to face the party, and
making dignified gestures with his whip; "but I appeal to common sense,
good sense, or, what is of more importance than either, to the sense of
taste, which is one of the five natural senses, whether a big loaf of
sugar is not likely to contain a better illustration of a proposition than
such a lump as one of your Dutch women puts under her tongue when she
drinks her tea. There are two ways of doing everything, the right way and
the wrong way. You make sugar now, I will admit, and you may, possibly,
make loaf-sugar; but I take the question to be, whether you make the best
possible sugar, and in the best possible loaves."</p>
<p>"Thou art very right, Richard," observed Marmaduke, with a gravity in his
air that proved how much he was interested in the subject. "It is very
true that we manufacture sugar, and the inquiry is quite useful, how much?
and in what manner? I hope to live to see the day when farms and
plantations shall be devoted to this branch of business. Little is known
concerning the properties of the tree itself, the source of all this
wealth; how much it may be improved by cultivation, by the use of the hoe
and plough."</p>
<p>"Hoe and plough!" roared the sheriff; "would you set a man hoeing round
the root of a maple like this?" pointing to one of the noble trees that
occur so frequently in that part of the country. "Hoeing trees! are you
mad, 'Duke? This is next to hunting for coal! Poh! poh! my dear cousin,
hear reason, and leave the management of the sugar-bush to me. Here is Mr.
Le Quoi—he has been in the West Indies, and has seen sugar made. Let
him give an account of how it is made there, and you will hear the
philosophy of the thing. Well, monsieur, how is it that you make sugar in
the West Indies; anything in Judge Temples fashion?"</p>
<p>The gentleman to whom this query was put was mounted on a small horse, of
no very fiery temperament, and was riding with his stirrups so short as to
bring his knees, while the animal rose a small ascent in the wood-path
they were now travelling, into a somewhat hazardous vicinity to his chin.
There was no room for gesticulation or grace in the delivery of his reply,
for the mountain was steep and slippery; and, although the Frenchman had
an eye of uncommon magnitude on either side of his face, they did not seem
to be half competent to forewarn him of the impediments of bushes, twigs,
and fallen trees, that were momentarily crossing his path. With one hand
employed in averting these dangers, and the other grasping his bridle to
check an untoward speed that his horse was assuming, the native of France
responded as follows:</p>
<p>"Sucre! dey do make sucre in Martinique; mais—mais ce n'est pas one
tree—ah—ah—vat you call—je voudrois que ces
chemins fussent au diable—vat you call—steeck pour la
promenade?"</p>
<p>"Cane," said Elizabeth, smiling at the imprecation which the wary
Frenchman supposed was understood only by himself. "Oui, mam'selle, cane."</p>
<p>"Yes, yes," cried Richard, "cane is the vulgar name for it, but the real
term is saccharum officinarum; and what we call the sugar, or hard maple,
is acer saccharinum. These are the learned names, monsieur, and are such
as, doubtless, you well understand."</p>
<p>"Is this Greek or Latin, Mr. Edwards?" whispered Elizabeth to the youth,
who was opening a passage for herself and her companions through the
bushes, "or per haps it is a still more learned language, for an
interpretation of which we must look to you."</p>
<p>The dark eye of the young man glanced toward the speaker, but its
resentful expression changed in a moment.</p>
<p>"I shall remember your doubts, Miss Temple, when next I visit my old
friend Mohegan, and either his skill, or that of Leather-Stocking, shall
solve them."</p>
<p>"And are you, then, really ignorant of their language?"</p>
<p>"Not absolutely; but the deep learning of Mr. Jones is more familiar to
me, or even the polite masquerade of Monsieur Le Quoi."</p>
<p>"Do you speak French?" said the lady, with quickness.</p>
<p>"It is a common language with the Iroquois, and through the Canadas," he
answered, smiling.</p>
<p>"Ah! but they are Mingoes, and your enemies."</p>
<p>"It will be well for me if I have no worse," said the youth, dashing ahead
with his horse, and putting an end to the evasive dialogue.</p>
<p>The discourse, however, was maintained with great vigor by Richard, until
they reached an open wood on the summit of the mountain, where the
hemlocks and pines totally disappeared, and a grove of the very trees that
formed the subject of debate covered the earth with their tall, straight
trunks and spreading branches, in stately pride. The underwood had been
entirely removed from this grove, or bush, as, in conjunction with the
simple arrangements for boiling, it was called, and a wide space of many
acres was cleared, which might be likened to the dome of a mighty temple,
to which the maples formed the columns, their tops composing the capitals
and the heavens the arch. A deep and careless incision had been made into
each tree, near its root, into which little spouts, formed of the I bark
of the alder, or of the sumach, were fastened; and a trough, roughly dug
out of the linden, or basswood, was I lying at the root of each tree, to
catch the sap that flowed from this extremely wasteful and inartificial
arrangement.</p>
<p>The party paused a moment, on gaining the flat, to breathe their horses,
and, as the scene was entirely new to several of their number, to view the
manner of collecting the fluid. A fine, powerful voice aroused them from
their momentary silence, as it rang under the branches of the trees,
singing the following words of that inimitable doggerel, whose verses, if
extended, would reach from the Caters of the Connecticut to the shores of
Ontario. The tune was, of course, a familiar air which, although it is
said to have been first applied to this nation in derision, circumstances
have since rendered so glorious that no American ever hears its jingling
cadence without feeling a thrill at his heart:</p>
<p>"The Eastern States be full of men, The Western Full of woods, sir, The
hill be like a cattle-pen, The roads be full of goods, sir! Then flow
away, my sweety sap, And I will make you boily; Nor catch a wood man's
hasty nap, For fear you should get roily. The maple-tree's a precious one,
'Tis fuel, food, and timber; And when your stiff day's work is done, Its
juice will make you limber, Then flow away, etc.</p>
<p>"And what's a man without his glass. His wife without her tea, sir? But
neither cup nor mug will pass, Without his honey-bee, sir! Then flow
away," etc.</p>
<p>During the execution of this sonorous doggerel, Richard kept time with his
whip on the mane of his charger, accompanying the gestures with a
corresponding movement of his head and body. Toward the close of the song,
he was overheard humming the chorus, and, at its last repetition, to
strike in at "sweety sap," and carry a second through, with a prodigious
addition to the "effect" of the noise, if not to that of the harmony.</p>
<p>"Well done us!" roared the sheriff, on the same key with the tune; "a very
good song, Billy Kirby, and very well sung. Where got you the words, lad?
Is there more of it, and can you furnish me with a copy?" The
sugar-boiler, who was busy in his "camp," at a short distance from the
equestrians, turned his head with great indifference, and surveyed the
party, as they approached, with admirable coolness. To each individual, as
he or she rode close by him, he gave a nod that was extremely good-natured
and affable, but which partook largely of the virtue of equality, for not
even to the ladies did he in the least vary his mode of salutation, by
touching the apology for a hat that he wore, or by any other motion than
the one we have mentioned.</p>
<p>"How goes it, how goes it, sheriff?" said the wood-chopper; "what's the
good word in the village?"</p>
<p>"Why, much as usual, Billy," returned Richard. "But how is this? where are
your four kettles, and your troughs, and your iron coolers? Do you make
sugar in this slovenly way? I thought you were one of the best
sugar-boilers in the county."</p>
<p>"I'm all that, Squire Jones," said Kirby, who continued his occupation;
"I'll turn my back to no man in the Otsego hills for chopping and logging,
for boiling down the maple sap, for tending brick-kiln, splitting out
rails, making potash, and parling too, or hoeing corn; though I keep
myself pretty much to the first business, seeing that the axe comes most
natural to me."</p>
<p>"You be von Jack All-trade, Mister Beel," said Monsieur Le Quoi.</p>
<p>"How?" said Kirby, looking up with a simplicity which, coupled with his
gigantic frame and manly face, was a little ridiculous, "if you be for
trade, mounsher, here is some as good sugar as you'll find the season
through. It's as clear from dirt as the Jarman Flats is free from stumps,
and it has the raal maple flavor. Such stuff would sell in York for
candy."</p>
<p>The Frenchman approached the place where Kirby had deposited his cake of
sugar, under the cover of a bark roof, and commenced the examination of
the article with the eye of one who well understood its value. Marmaduke
had dismounted, and was viewing the works and the trees very closely, and
not without frequent expressions of dissatisfaction at the careless manner
in which the manufacture was conducted.</p>
<p>"You have much experience in these things, Kirby," he said; "what course
do you pursue in making your sugar? I see you have but two kettles."</p>
<p>"Two is as good as two thousand, Judge. I'm none of your polite
sugar-makers, that boils for the great folks; but if the raal sweet maple
is wanted, I can answer your turn. First, I choose, and then I tap my
trees; say along about the last of February, or in these mountains maybe
not afore the middle of March; but anyway, just as the sap begins to
cleverly run—"</p>
<p>"Well, in this choice," interrupted Marmaduke, "are you governed by any
outward signs that prove the quality of the tree?"</p>
<p>"Why, there's judgment in all things," said Kirby, stirring the liquor in
his kettles briskly. "There's some thing in knowing when and how to stir
the pot. It's a thing that must be larnt. Rome wasn't built in a day, nor
for that matter Templeton either, though it may be said to be a
quick-growing place. I never put my axe into a stunty tree, or one that
hasn't a good, fresh-looking bark: for trees have disorders, like
creatur's; and where's the policy of taking a tree that's sickly, any more
than you'd choose a foundered horse to ride post, or an over heated ox to
do your logging?"</p>
<p>"All that is true. But what are the signs of illness? how do you
distinguish a tree that is well from one that is diseased?"</p>
<p>"How does the doctor tell who has fever and who colds?" interrupted
Richard. "By examining the skin, and feeling the pulse, to be sure."</p>
<p>"Sartain," continued Billy; "the squire ain't far out of the way. It's by
the look of the thing, sure enough. Well, when the sap begins to get a
free run, I hang over the kettles, and set up the bush. My first boiling I
push pretty smartly, till I get the virtue of the sap; but when it begins
to grow of a molasses nater, like this in the kettle, one mustn't drive
the fires too hard, or you'll burn the sugar; and burny sugar is bad to
the taste, let it be never so sweet. So you ladle out from one kettle into
the other till it gets so, when you put the stirring-stick into it, that
it will draw into a thread—when it takes a kerful hand to manage it.
There is a way to drain it off, after it has grained, by putting clay into
the pans; bitt it isn't always practised; some doos and some doosn't.
Well, mounsher, be we likely to make a trade?"</p>
<p>"I will give you, Mister Etel, for von pound, dix sous."</p>
<p>"No, I expect cash for it; I never dicker my sugar, But, seeing that it's
you, mounsher," said Billy, with a Coaxing smile, "I'll agree to receive a
gallon of rum, and cloth enough for two shirts if you'll take the molasses
in the bargain. It's raal good. I wouldn't deceive you or any man and to
my drinking it's about the best molasses that come out of a sugar-bush."</p>
<p>"Mr. Le Quoi has offered you ten pence," said young Edwards.</p>
<p>The manufacturer stared at the speaker with an air of great freedom, but
made no reply.</p>
<p>"Oui," said the Frenchman, "ten penny. Jevausraner cie, monsieur: ah! mon
Anglois! je l'oublie toujours."</p>
<p>The wood-chopper looked from one to the other with some displeasure; and
evidently imbibed the opinion that they were amusing themselves at his
expense. He seized the enormous ladle, which was lying on one of his
kettles, and began to stir the boiling liquid with great diligence. After
a moment passed in dipping the ladle full, and then raising it on high, as
the thick rich fluid fell back into the kettle, he suddenly gave it a
whirl, as if to cool what yet remained, and offered the bowl to Mr. Le
Quoi, saying:</p>
<p>"Taste that, mounsher, and you will say it is worth more than you offer.
The molasses itself would fetch the money."</p>
<p>The complaisant Frenchman, after several timid efforts to trust his lips
in contact with the howl of the ladle, got a good swallow of the scalding
liquid. He clapped his hands on his breast, and looked most piteously at
the ladies, for a single instant; and then, to use the language of Billy,
when he afterward recounted the tale, "no drumsticks ever went faster on
the skin of a sheep than the Frenchman's legs, for a round or two; and
then such swearing and spitting in French you never saw. But it's a
knowing one, from the old countries, that thinks to get his jokes smoothly
over a wood-chopper."</p>
<p>The air of innocence with which Kirby resumed the occupation of stirring
the contents of his kettles would have completely deceived the spectators
as to his agency in the temporary sufferings of Mr. Le Quoi, had not the
reckless fellow thrust his tongue into his cheek, and cast his eyes over
the party, with a simplicity of expression that was too exquisite to be
natural. Mr. Le Quoi soon recovered his presence of mind and his decorum;
and he briefly apologized to the ladies for one or two very intemperate
expressions that had escaped him in a moment of extraordinary excitement,
and, remounting his horse, he continued in the background during the
remainder of the visit, the wit of Kirby putting a violent termination, at
once, to all negotiations on the subject of trade. During all this time,
Marmaduke had been wandering about the grove, making observations on his
favorite trees, and the wasteful manner in which the wood-chopper
conducted his manufacture.</p>
<p>"It grieves me to witness the extravagance that pervades this country,"
said the Judge, "where the settlers trifle with the blessings they might
enjoy, with the prodigality of successful adventurers. You are not exempt
from the censure yourself, Kirby, for you make dreadful wounds in these
trees where a small incision would effect the same object. I earnestly beg
you will remember that they are the growth of centuries, and when once
gone none living will see their loss remedied."</p>
<p>"Why, I don't know, Judge," returned the man he ad dressed; "it seems to
me, if there's plenty of anything in this mountaynious country, it's the
trees. If there's any sin in chopping them, I've a pretty heavy account to
settle; for I've chopped over the best half of a thousand acres, with my
own hands, counting both Varmount and York States; and I hope to live to
finish the whull, before I lay up my axe. Chopping comes quite natural to
me, and I wish no other employment; but Jared Ransom said that he thought
the sugar was likely to be source this season, seeing that so many folks
was coming into the settlement, and so I concluded to take the 'bush' on
sheares for this one spring. What's the best news, Judge, consarning
ashes? do pots hold so that a man can live by them still? I s'pose they
will, if they keep on fighting across the water."</p>
<p>"Thou reasonest with judgment, William," returned Marmaduke. "So long as
the Old Worm is to be convulsed with wars, so long will the harvest of
America continue."</p>
<p>"Well, it's an ill wind, Judge, that blows nobody any good. I'm sure the
country is in a thriving way; and though I know you calkilate greatly on
the trees, setting as much store by them as some men would by their
children, yet to my eyes they are a sore sight any time, unless I'm
privileged to work my will on them: in which case I can't say but they are
more to my liking. I have heard the settlers from the old countries say
that their rich men keep great oaks and elms, that would make a barrel of
pots to the tree, standing round their doors and humsteds and scattered
over their farms, just to look at. Now, I call no country much improved
that is pretty well covered with trees. Stumps are a different thing, for
they don't shade the land; and, besides, you dig them—they make a
fence that will turn anything bigger than a hog, being grand for breachy
cattle."</p>
<p>"Opinions on such subjects vary much in different countries," said
Marmaduke; "but it is not as ornaments that I value the noble trees of
this country; it is for their usefulness We are stripping the forests, as
if a single year would replace what we destroy. But the hour approaches
when the laws will take notice of not only the woods, but the game they
contain also."</p>
<p>With this consoling reflection, Marmaduke remounted, and the equestrians
passed the sugar-camp, on their way to the promised landscape of Richard.
The wood-chop-per was left alone, in the bosom of the forest, to pursue
his labors. Elizabeth turned her head, when they reached the point where
they were to descend the mountain, and thought that the slow fires that
were glimmering under his enormous kettles, his little brush shelter,
covered with pieces of hemlock bark, his gigantic size, as he wielded his
ladle with a steady and knowing air, aided by the back-ground of stately
trees, with their spouts and troughs, formed, altogether, no unreal
picture of human life in its first stages of civilization. Perhaps
whatever the scene possessed of a romantic character was not injured by
the powerful tones of Kirby's voice ringing through the woods as he again
awoke his strains to another tune, which was but little more scientific
than the former. All that she understood of the words were:</p>
<p>"And when the proud forest is falling, To my oxen cheerfully calling, From
morn until night I am bawling, Whoa, back there, and haw and gee; Till our
labor is mutually ended, By my strength and cattle befriended, And against
the mosquitoes defended By the bark of the walnut-trees. Away! then, you
lads who would buy land; Choose the oak that grows on the high land, or
the silvery pine on the dry land, it matters but little to me."</p>
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