The Literary World Seventh Reader | Page 5

at him with such fixed, statue-like gaze, and
such strange, uncouth countenances, that his heart turned within him,
and his knees smote together. His companion now emptied the contents
of the keg into large flagons, and made signs to him to wait upon the
company. He obeyed with fear and trembling; they quaffed the liquor
in profound silence, and then returned to their game.
By degrees Rip's awe and apprehension subsided. He even ventured,
when no eye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage, which he found
had much of the flavor of excellent Hollands. He was naturally a thirsty
soul, and was soon tempted to repeat the draught. One taste provoked
another; and he repeated his visits to the flagon so often that at length
his senses were overpowered, his eyes swam in his head, his head
gradually declined, and he fell into a deep sleep.
II
On waking he found himself on the green knoll whence he had first
seen the old man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes--it was a bright, sunny
morning. The birds were hopping and twittering among the bushes, and
the eagle was wheeling aloft, and breasting the pure mountain breeze.

"Surely," thought Rip, "I have not slept here all night." He recalled the
occurrences before he fell asleep. The strange man with a keg of
liquor--the mountain ravine--the wild retreat among the rocks--the
woe-begone party at ninepins--the flagon--"Oh! that flagon! that
wicked flagon!" thought Rip; "what excuse shall I make to Dame Van
Winkle?"
He looked round for his gun, but in place of the clean, well-oiled
fowling piece, he found an old firelock lying by him, the barrel
incrusted with rust, the lock falling off, and the stock worm-eaten. He
now suspected that the grave revelers of the mountain had put a trick
upon him and, having dosed him with liquor, had robbed him of his
gun. Wolf, too, had disappeared, but he might have strayed away after a
squirrel or partridge. He whistled after him, and shouted his name, but
all in vain; the echoes repeated his whistle and shout, but no dog was to
be seen.
He determined to revisit the scene of the last evening's gambol, and if
he met with any of the party, to demand his dog and gun. As he rose to
walk, he found himself stiff in the joints, and wanting in his usual
activity. "These mountain beds do not agree with me," thought Rip,
"and if this frolic should lay me up with a fit of the rheumatism, I shall
have a blessed time with Dame Van Winkle." With some difficulty he
got down into the glen; he found the gully up which he and his
companion had ascended the preceding evening; but to his
astonishment a mountain stream was now foaming down it, leaping
from rock to rock, and filling the glen with babbling murmurs. He,
however, made shift to scramble up its sides, working his toilsome way
through thickets of birch, sassafras, and witch-hazel, and sometimes
tripped up or entangled by the wild grapevines that twisted their coils
from tree to tree, and spread a kind of network in his path.
At length he reached to where the ravine had opened through the cliffs
to the amphitheater; but no traces of such opening remained. The rocks
presented a high, impenetrable wall, over which the torrent came
tumbling in a sheet of feathery foam, and fell into a broad, deep basin,
black from the shadows of the surrounding forest. Here, then, poor Rip

was brought to a stand. He again called and whistled after his dog; he
was only answered by the cawing of a flock of idle crows sporting high
in air about a dry tree that overhung a sunny precipice; and who, secure
in their elevation, seemed to look down and scoff at the poor man's
perplexities. What was to be done?--the morning was passing away,
and Rip felt famished for want of his breakfast. He grieved to give up
his dog and gun; he dreaded to meet his wife; but it would not do to
starve among the mountains. He shook his head, shouldered the rusty
firelock, and, with a heart full of trouble and anxiety, turned his steps
homeward.
As he approached the village he met a number of people, but none
whom he knew, which somewhat surprised him, for he had thought
himself acquainted with every one in the country round. Their dress,
too, was of a different fashion from that to which he was accustomed.
They all stared at him with equal marks of surprise, and whenever they
cast their eyes upon him, invariably stroked their chins. The constant
recurrence of this gesture induced Rip, involuntarily, to do the same,
when, to his astonishment, he found his