Chapter 16

He started up, each limb convulsed
With agonizing fear,
He only heard the storm of night--
'Twas music to his ear.

_Lord William_.

Away we went! Guert's aim was the islands, which carried him nearer home,
while it offered a place of retreat, in the event of the danger's becoming
more serious. The fierce rapidity with which we now moved prevented all
conversation, or even much reflection. The reports of the rending ice,
however, became more and more frequent, first coming from above, and then
from below. More than once it seemed as if the immense mass of weight that
had evidently collected somewhere near the town of Albany, was about to
pour down upon us in a flood--when the river would have been swept for
miles, by a resistless torrent. Nevertheless, Guert held on his way;
firstly, because he knew it would be impossible to get on either of the
main shores, anywhere near the point where we happened to be; and secondly,
because, having often seen similar dammings of the waters, he fancied
we were still safe. That the distant reader may understand the precise
character of the danger we ran, it may be well to give him some notion of
the localities.

The banks of the Hudson are generally high and precipitous, and in some
places they are mountainous. No flats worthy of being mentioned, occur,
until Albany is approached; nor are those which lie south of that town, of
any great extent, compared with the size of the stream. In this particular
the Mohawk is a very different river, having extensive flats that, I have
been told, resemble those of the Rhine, in miniature. As for the Hudson,
it is generally esteemed in the colony as a very pleasing river; and I
remember to have heard intelligent people from home, admit, that even the
majestic Thames itself, is scarcely more worthy to be visited, or that it
better rewards the trouble and curiosity of the enlightened traveller. [26]

While there are flats on the shores of the Hudson, and of some extent, in
the vicinity of Albany, the general formation of the adjacent country is
preserved,--being high, bold, and in some quarters, more particularly to
the northward and eastward, mountainous. Among these hills the stream
meanders for sixty or eighty miles north of the town, receiving tributaries
as it comes rushing down towards the sea. The character of the river
changes entirely, a short distance above Albany; the tides flowing to that
point, rendering it navigable, and easy of ascent in summer, all the way
from the sea. Of the tributaries, the principal is the Mohawk, which runs
a long distance towards the west--they tell me, for I have never visited
these remote parts of the colony--among fertile plains, that are bounded
north and south by precipitous