CHAPTER XIV IN THE WILDERNESS
Cora was lost!
For an hour past she had refused to admit it to herself. The utmost thatshe would concede was that she had become separated from her party. Butthat of course often happened, was bound to happen again and again, whenone was out in the woods.
Jack and the rest must be looking for her as eagerly as she was for them.How heartily they would laugh and joke over the needless fears that hadassailed her when she first realized that she was alone.
So she had reasoned with herself, thrusting resolutely into thebackground the terrible dread that kept trying to get possession of hermind, marshaling all the pathetic sophistries by which those in similarplight have tried to delude themselves from the beginning of the world.But with every moment that passed she grew more certain of the truth,until she seated herself on a fallen tree, and, burying her face in herhands, gave way to the tears she tried in vain to hold back.
There was no use in blinking the fact. She was lost in the Adirondackwilderness, cut off for the time being from her friends, doomed perhapsto suffer incredible hardships before she should be rescued. Sheshuddered as she recalled instances of others, lost in that vast region,strong men, some of them, for whom rescue had arrived too late.
She pressed her fingers into her throbbing temples and tried to think.But her head swam, and it was only by a strong exertion of her will thatshe was able to pull herself together. It was some minutes before she hadherself well in hand and was able to bring all her powers to bear on theproblem before her. That problem had suddenly assumed giganticproportions. Unless she solved it correctly, her life might pay thepenalty.
"What shall I do?" she asked herself. "What shall I do?"
North, east, south, west, wherever she looked she could see nothingresembling a trail. In all that tangle of trees, rocks and undergrowththere was no indication that the foot of man had ever disturbed itssolitude. And as Cora looked wildly about her, the forest seemed to mockher with a lurking smile as though taunting her helplessness.
But she resolutely crushed back the feeling of panic that clutched at herheart and hunted about desperately to get her bearings. It wasridiculous, she told herself, that she should not find something thatwould give her the needed clue.
She knew in a general way that the bungalow lay a little north of east.It was not much to go by, but if she could keep in that line it mightmake all the difference between safety and disaster.
But how was she to find the cardinal points? She had no compass with her.And then her heart gave a great bound as she thought of her watch!
Like all the Motor Girls, Cora, in her frequent journeyings, had pickedup a good many points of woodcraft. Among others, she knew how by asimple device to locate the south, and with this as a starter find theother points of the compass.
Where she sat, the trees were so thick that a perpetual twilight reignedbeneath. A little to the right, however, they thinned out somewhat, andrays of light fell through the foliage. Here was her chance to get anidea of the sun's location.
She went hurriedly to the spot and opening her watch carefully turned ituntil the figure twelve pointed directly at the sun. Then she measuredhalf the distance between twelve and the hour hand and knew that thiscentral point indicated due south. Directly opposite, of course, wasnorth. Standing, then, with her face to the north, it followed that theeast was on her right hand and the west on her left.
She had a tiny penknife with her, and with this she cut two strips ofbark and dovetailed them in the form of a cross, so that each of the fourends stood for one of the cardinal points. On these she cut theappropriate initials and carefully planted it in the ground at her feet.Then she put back her watch with a sigh of satisfaction.
Now she had at least a point of departure. All she had to do was to startin the right direction and depend upon further glimpses of the sun tocorrect her course from time to time.
From the beginning her progress was slow, owing to the absence of a trailand the necessity of forcing her way through the underbrush. At times shehad to make a considerable detour, to avoid brush so thickly matted thatshe could not penetrate it. This of necessity threw her out of the courseshe was trying to keep. And her consternation was great to find, onreaching a more open spot, that the sun was now hidden by thick clouds.
Still she went doggedly on for two hours or more, taxing every ounce ofcourage and resolution that she possessed, finding a mental relief in thephysical effort that kept her from dwelling too intently on her desperateplight. The afternoon was rapidly waning and the gloom of the forest wasdeepening into dusk. And just then, panting with fatigue and exhaustion,her eye caught something familiar close to her feet.
It was the cross of bark that she had made two hours earlier!
This, then, was the reward of all her exertions. Obeying that inexorableand malign law that seems to hound desert and forest wanderers, she hadworked around in a circle to the very point from which she had started!
For a moment it seemed to Cora that she must be dreaming. She could notbring herself to admit that all the toil and effort of the afternoon hadcome only to this. It was absurd, ridiculous! She rubbed her eyes andlooked again. It was only too surely the fact. There was the little crosswith the edges still raw from the blade of her knife.
Fate had played a cruel joke on her--a joke that might prove to bedeadly. She had taxed her muscles until she was dropping with weariness,kept up her courage with the thought that she was making progress, onlyto find that all was utterly wasted, and that she was no nearer safetythan when she had started. The reaction came on her with a rush and for amoment she thought she was going to faint.
Now, for the first time, the full horror of her situation dawned on her.As long as she had kept in motion, she had been buoyed up by the thoughtthat at any minute she might win her way to safety. But now her chance,for the day at least, was gone. She was alone, cut off from all humancompanionship in that vast wilderness, and night was coming on!
What was to be her fate? She had everything to live for, youth, health,friends, home and love. She was just on the brink of womanhood, and liferan at full tide through her veins. The future stretched before her,glowing with promise and with hands heaped high with treasures. She wasjust getting ready to drink the wine of life. Was the cup to be dashedrudely to the ground, just as she was lifting it to her lips?
For a little while she surrendered to these gloomy imaginings. The shockhad been too severe for her to rally all at once. Then she took a grip onherself.
For it was not in Cora's nature to yield tamely to despair. Her heart wasnaturally brave and she came of fighting stock. It was good red bloodthat ran in Cora's veins, and now, as the first depression passed, itbegan to assert itself.
Not that she attempted longer to deceive herself. She admitted that herplight was desperate. But it was not hopeless. It never would be that,she told herself, as long as a spark of life was left. She would work,plan, struggle and never give up.
But where would she find shelter for the night? In some dense thicket? Ina hollow tree? She shuddered as she thought of spending the nightentirely in the open. What wild animals might be abroad, coming out,soft-footed and wary, to make their nightly kill? She knew that therewere bears, wolves and lynxes in these forests, and also rattlesnakes.Without anything approaching a weapon, what chance would she have in caseof attack?
If she only had some matches! None of the beasts would dare to touch herif she were seated close to a roaring fire. They might prowl about andeye her hungrily, but no matter how famished or savage they were, theywould not venture into that zone of flame.
But a fire was impossible. And as Cora realized this, she looked abouther wildly, as though she expected even in the twilight to hear astealthy footfall or see a pair of phosphorescent eyes glaring at her.She could almost hear the pounding of her heart.
She must find shelter in the few minutes of daylight that r
emained. Therewas nothing to gain and everything to lose by staying where she was. Witha little prayer on her lips, she set off, choosing no particulardirection, but trusting to Providence to direct her.
Five minutes later she gave a joyous cry, and ran forward to a tiny hutthat stood in a little clearing.
It was a rude cabin of a single room. Its weather-beaten and dilapidatedappearance showed that it had been knocked together a long timepreviously, probably by some trapper or hunter. Part of the thatched roofhad sagged in, leaving rifts open to the sky.
On the earthen floor within were the ashes of a fire and several rustypans and skillets, abandoned or forgotten by the last occupant. In thecenter was a bunk, consisting of four uprights, to which were fastenedropes that crossed and criss-crossed each other to form a rough mattress.A door swung loosely from the rusted hinges.
From all appearances, no one had been in the place for years. Cora rushedinside, pulled the door shut and slipped a bar that she found within intoplace. Then she sat down on the cord mattress and cried withthankfulness.
From all the terrors of a night spent in the open forest she was safe.
Night had fully fallen now, and the myriad voices of the forest were infull swing. It was nature's symphony on a colossal scale. Locusts,crickets and katydids sought to outdo each other. From the trees came thehoot of owls and the mournful notes of the whippoorwill.
Now that she was temporarily safe, Cora was conscious of being hungry.She had been so absorbed in her attempt to escape from the captivity ofthe forest that she had not even thought of food. Now she realized thather healthy appetite was clamoring for satisfaction.
Suddenly she remembered that she had slipped a tablet of chocolate in thepocket of her blouse that morning, to nibble at on the trip. She hadforgotten all about it till now, and she thanked the fates for theoversight.
She drew it out, and as she did so she felt two other objects that shehad not known were there. She drew them out and found that they were twocubes of compressed soup stock, wrapped in little pieces of waxed paper.
How on earth had they gotten there? Some trick played by Bess or Belleprobably. They had slipped them in when she had not been looking, justfor the sake of seeing her perplexed expression when she should discoverthem. That must be the explanation.
Her spirits rose with the discovery. If she could only have had a can ofwater and a fire, she could have made a delicious soup. But this was outof the question, and she had to content herself with putting one of theprecious cubes in her mouth and letting it slowly dissolve. It was ratherdry eating, but the nourishment was there.
She was sorely tempted to let the other cube and the tablet of chocolatetake the same course, as all of them together would have made but aslender meal. But prudence spoke more loudly than appetite and shecrushed down the temptation. Although it taxed her resolution sorely, shethrust them back into her pocket.
She lay down on the rude mattress, although she was sure that she wouldnot close her eyes the whole night through. But she was utterly used upby the terrible strain of the day's experience, and tired nature demandedher rights. Sleep laid its soothing fingers on her eyelids, and all hertroubles were, for the time being, forgotten.
The Motor Girls in the Mountains; or, The Gypsy Girl's Secret Page 14
