A Thrilling Tale

            “A Thrilling Tale of the River Drivers of Ripogenus, as We Boys Heard It from the Duke of Argyle.”  This story is a bit of folklore often told by river drivers in early days. The story takes place on the drive in the river near where Rip Dam would be built and features the mythical Miramichi Indian whose exploits rivaled those of Paul Bunyan.

The Lewiston Journal Illustrated Magazine, July 6, 1935, has the story as related by Willard Pond (a river driver known as the Duke of Argyle).  

            “We (a crew of river drivers) were coming across Ripogenus Lake with a big boom of logs. It had been a tough pull. Head and heavy winds made it slow work. We were within a mile of the foot of the lake, which was within a mile of the great Ripogenus gorge when the wind shifted and began a gale down the lake. Quicker’n Jack Robinson the boom parted and a million feet of logs was being scattered over the lake.”

            The best men grabbed the oars of the biggest batteau while the Duke took the steering paddle. The wind increased. Logs were scattering, loose from the boom. Other bateau came to help close the boom. A shout from one of the men alerted the Duke that they were in big trouble. The wind had carried them almost to the mouth of Rip Gorge.

            The Duke and the men knew it was hopeless! The pull of the current was stronger than that of the six men and they could not turn the boat. They were silent as they continued to try to swing the batteau. Death was only minutes away!

            Suddenly, “There was a hissing in the air. A rope fell lengthwise of the bateau. Every man in the boat took hold of it. The bow man caught a half-hitch around a cleat there and then there came a wild, piercing cry from the bank. We looked, but saw no one. We knew it was the Miramichi Indian and our hopes revived. The rush of the boat was snubbed. It moved along easily. The Miramichi Indian was snubbing us down through the gorge, just as we men had snubbed a load of logs down a mountain so many times. It was soon over. We came out of the gorge into the river below, safely. That rope swung us around into quiet water and to the shore. We stumbled out onto the bank and dropped on our knees and said a prayer of gratitude for the coming of the Mirimichi Indian.”

            Sam E. Conner, writer of the article, states, “No character of the Maine woods gave greater aid to the romancers of our town than did the Mirimachi Indian. He was to the men who cut the trees and drove the logs on the rivers and streams of this State what John Bunyan (later called Paul Bunyan) was to the lumberjacks of the Midwest and western forest lands.