The Pioneers by Cooper James Fenimore

Author:Cooper, James Fenimore [Cooper, James Fenimore]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Classics, Historical, Adventure
ISBN: 9781101143803
Goodreads: 9380066
Publisher: Signet Classics
Published: 1823-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

“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.”

CHAPTER XXI

Speed! Malise, speed! Such cause of haste

Thine active sinews never braced.

SCOTT

THE roads of Otsego, if we except the principal highways, were, at the early day of our tale, but little better than wood paths. The high trees that were growing on the very verge of the wheel tracks excluded the sun’s rays, unless at meridian; and the slowness of the evaporation, united with the rich mold of vegetable decomposition that covered the whole country to the depth of several inches, occasioned but an indifferent foundation for the footing of travelers. Added to these were the inequalities of a natural surface, and the constant recurrence of enormous and slippery roots that were laid bare by the removal of the light soil, together with stumps of trees, to make a passage not only difficult but dangerous. Yet the riders, among these numerous obstructions, which were such as would terrify an unpracticed eye, gave no demonstrations of uneasiness, as their horses toiled through the sloughs, or trotted with uncertain paces along the dark route. In many places, the marks on the trees were the only indications of a road, with perhaps an occasional remnant of a pine, that, by being cut close to the earth, so as to leave nothing visible but its base of roots, spreading for twenty feet in every direction, was apparently placed there as a beacon to warn the traveler that it was the center of a highway.

Into one of these roads the active Sheriff led the way, first striking out of the footpath, by which they had descended from the sugarbush, across a little bridge, formed of round logs laid loosely on sleepers of pine, in which large openings of a formidable width were frequent. The nag of Richard, when it reached one of these gaps, laid its nose along the logs, and stepped across the difficult passage with the sagacity of a man; but the blooded filly which Miss Temple rode disdained so humble a movement. She made a step or two with an unusual caution, and then on reaching the broadest opening, obedient to the curb and whip of her fearless mistress, she bounded across the dangerous pass with the activity of a squirrel.

“Gently, gently, my child,” said Marmaduke, who was following in the manner of Richard, “this is not a country for equestrian feats. Much prudence is requisite to journey through our rough paths with safety. Thou mayst practice thy skill in horsemanship on the plains of New Jersey with safety; but in the hills of Otsego they may be suspended for a time.”

“I may as well then relinquish my saddle at once, dear sir,” returned his daughter; “for if it is to be laid aside until this wild country be improved, old age will overtake me, and put an end to what you term my equestrian feats.

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