Big Brother: A Story of Indian War
Page 11
CHAPTER XI.
IN THE WILDERNESS.
When Sam went over the cliff, he thought of poor little Judie, and Tomand Joe, and, for their sake more than his own, took every precautionwhich might give him an additional chance of life. He knew that heshould fall into the creek, and that the blow, when he struck the water,would be a very severe one. If he could keep his horse under him all theway, however, the animal and not he would be the chief sufferer. Fearingthat the horse would hesitate at the cliff, blunder, and throw him asomersault, perhaps falling on him, he held the beast's head high andurged him forward at full speed, and so, as we have seen, the horse'sback was almost level as he leaped from the top of the bank. Sam had nosaddle or stirrups in which to become entangled, and as the horsestruck the water fairly, the blow was not nearly so severe a shock tothe boy as he had expected. Both went under the water, but rising againin a moment Sam slid off the animal's back, to give the poor fellow abetter chance of escape by swimming. Striking out boldly Sam reached thebank and crawling up looked for his horse. The poor beast was evidentlytoo severely hurt to swim with ease, and so he drifted away, Sam runningalong the bank, calling and encouraging him. He struck the shore atlast, and Sam examining him found that while he was stunned and bruisedno serious damage had been done.
"Poor fellow," he said, stroking the colt's head, "you cannot serve meany further in this swamp, but you saved my life and I'm glad you're notkilled anyhow."
Then taking the bridle off, he turned the horse loose, to graze andbrowse at will in the dense growth of the swamp.
Sam was feverish still, and very weak, but his anxiety to reach the rootfortress again was an overmastering impulse. He had lost his bearings inthe mad chase, and the sky was so overcast that he could make no use ofthe sun as a guide. He knew that his course lay nearly northward, and itwas his purpose to travel only at night, as before; but unless he couldget out of the swamp during the day, and ascertain in what direction hemust travel, he could not go on during the night at all. If it shouldclear off by evening, the pole star would show him his way, but therewas no promise of a clearing away. He must find the course during theday, and he set about it at once, after examining his salt bag which hehad put around his body, under his shirt, on the night on which he gotit. The salt was saturated with water, and Sam's first impulse was towring it out; but it occurred to him that the water he should squeezeout of it would be salt water, or in other words, that some of the saltwould come away with the water and be lost. If he let it dry gradually,however, all the salt would remain, and he determined to let it dry,carrying it, with that in view, over his shoulder. How to find out whichway was north was the question, and it puzzled him sorely. He knew thegeneral course of all the creeks in that part of the country, but asthey wind about in every direction it was impossible to get anyinformation out of the one he was near. It was his habit, when he wantedto solve any difficult problem, to sit down and think of it in all itsbearings, and a very excellent habit that is too. Nearly half ourblunders, all through life, might be avoided if we would think carefullybefore acting; and nearly half the useful things we know, have beenfound out simply by somebody's thinking. Sam sat down on a log and saidto himself;--
"Now if there is anything in the woods which always or nearly alwayspoints in any one direction, I can find it by looking. Then I can findout which way it points, by remembering how the woods look around home,where I know the points of the compass."
This was an excellent beginning, and Sam straightway began looking forsomething which should guide him. A patch of sunflowers grew by thecreek, and he had heard that they always turn their heads to the sun,but upon examining them, he found some of them turned one way and someanother, so that they were of no use whatever. Presently he observedsome beautiful green moss growing at the root and for a good many feetup the trunk of a tree, and looking around he saw that the moss at theroots of all the trees grew only or chiefly on one side, and that thecovered side was the same with all of them. Here was a uniform habit ofvegetation, and Sam knew enough to know that such a habit was not likelyto be confined to one particular locality. He began thinking of thewoods around home, and especially of a clump of trees in the yard at hisfather's house, the moss-covered roots of which were Judie's favoriteplaying place. This moss, he remembered, was nearly all on the northside of the trees, whose southern roots were bare. All the other mossytrees he could remember taught the same lesson, namely, that the greenmoss which grows around the bases of trees, grows chiefly on the northside. He had no doubt that the law was a general, if not a universalone, and as the mossy trees were very numerous, he had a guide easilyfollowed. Striking out northwardly, therefore, he travelled severalmiles before stopping, coming then to a suitable resting-place he laydown to gather strength for the night's journey. When night came,however, it had been raining for some hours, and in addition to thedarkness of a rainy night in a swamp, Sam found the soft alluvial soilso saturated with water that he sank almost to his knees at every step.Finding it impossible to go on he stopped again on the highest anddryest piece of ground he could find, and prepared to spend the nightthere. Cutting down a number of thick-leaved bushes he arranged themagainst a fallen tree, as a shelter.
He had been lying down but a short time when he discovered that prettynearly all the rain that fell on his bush roof found its way through ingreat drops from the leaves. It then occurred to him that he had erredin placing the bushes with their tops up. This indeed, made them merecatchers and conductors of water to the space they covered. Turningthem, so that their drooping leaves pointed downward, he was not long inmaking a really comfortable shelter, through which very little watercould find its way.
Towards morning he waked and found himself lying in water. He could seenothing in the darkness, but supposed that the rain had in some way madea pool where he was lying. On coming out from his tent, however, hefound matters much worse than he had thought. In whatever direction helooked he could see nothing but water, and he knew what the trouble was.The rain had been very heavy all along the creek, and the stream havingvery little fall had spread out over the whole surface of the swamp.There was nothing to do except wait for daylight, and he climbed uponthe trunk of the fallen tree to get out of the water while he waited.The rain had ceased to fall, and he had therefore no reason to fear anygreat increase in the depth of the surrounding water.
When morning came, Sam found that he was not the only occupant of thefallen tree. A fine large opossum had taken refuge in one of the upperbranches, and Sam used his rifle to good purpose in bringing him down.He was still suffering somewhat from the fever, though the excitement ofhis recent ride had done much to relieve him, as anything which occupiesone's mind is apt to do in fevers of that sort, but he was neverthelessextremely hungry, not having tasted food of any kind for nearly twodays, and having previously lived for a long time, as we know, upon aninsufficient and not very wholesome diet. He was delighted therefore toget a fat young opossum for breakfast. The next thing was to cook it.Sam was in no danger here from Indians, who were not likely to be insuch a swamp at any time, and were certainly not then, when the swampwas full of water. He had no objection therefore to a fire, but whereand how to build one he was at some loss to determine. Looking carefullyaround he discovered that in falling the great sycamore tree on which hestood had thrown up a large mound of earth at its roots, as big trees inblowing down nearly always do. This mound was well above the water, evenat its base, and here Sam determined to roast his opossum. He first duga hole in the ground, making it about two feet long, one foot wide andeighteen inches deep. This was to be his fireplace and oven. He nextcollected dry bark from the under side of the fallen tree, and bybreaking off its dead and well-seasoned limbs secured several largearmfuls of wood. Then taking from his leathern bullet-pouch a piece ofgreased rag, kept there to wrap bullets in before ramming them in thebarrel, he placed it in the "pan" of his rifle. Does the reader knowwhat the "pan" of a rifle is? If not he knows nothing of flintlock guns,and
I must explain. Before the invention of percussion caps, guns wereprovided with a little groove-shaped trough by the side of the powderchamber. From this "pan" as it was called, a little hole led into thecharge. Over the pan fitted a piece of steel on a hinge, so that itcould be opened and shut at pleasure. This piece of steel, aftercovering the pan, extended diagonally upward, and its surface wasroughened like the face of a file. When the rifleman had loaded his gunhe opened the pan, poured in a little powder and closed it again. In thehammer was a piece of flint, and when the trigger was pulled the flintcame down with great force into the pan, scraping the roughened steel asit came, and raising the pan cover on its hinge. It thus deposited ashower of sparks in the pan, set fire to the powder there and through itto the charge in the gun.
Sam's object was merely to get fire, however,--not to discharge hisrifle,--wherefore, without reloading it, after shooting the opossum, hemerely filled the pan with powder, placed the greasy rag in it, andcocking the gun pulled the trigger. In a moment the rag was burning, andbefore many minutes had passed, Sam had a good fire burning in and overthe hole he had dug. He then skinned and dressed the opossum, stoppingnow and then to replenish the fire and to throw all the live coals intothe hole as they formed. Within an hour the hole was full of burningcoals, and hot enough, Sam thought, for his purpose. He cut a number ofgreen twigs and collected a quantity of the long gray moss. He thenremoved all the fire from the hole, the sides and bottom of which werealmost red hot, and passing a twig through the opossum, lowered it tothe middle of the hole, where the twig rested on ledges provided forthat purpose. This brought the dressed animal into the centre of thehole, without permitting it to touch either the sides or the bottom. Hethen laid twigs across the top of the hole, covered them with moss, andthrew nearly a foot of loose earth over the moss. The sides and bottomof the hole, as I have said, were very hot, and Sam's plan was to keepthe heat in until it should roast the meat thoroughly. That his planwas a good one, I know from experience, having roasted more than oneturkey in that way. It is, in fact, the very best way in which meat ofany kind can possibly be roasted at all, as it lets none of the flavorescape in the form of gases.
Sam waited patiently for an hour, when, opening his earth oven, he foundhis opossum cooked to a rich, crisp brown. He ate a heartier and morewholesome breakfast that morning than he had eaten for weeks, and feltafterwards altogether better and stronger than before. The breakfastwould have been an excellent one at any time, as the flesh of theopossum tastes almost exactly like that of a suckling pig, but it wasdoubly good to the poor half-famished boy. He stowed away the remains ofhis feast in his coat pockets to be eaten on his way back to the rootfortress, resolving to kill some other game on the journey, for the useof the little garrison there. He was now, as he knew, not more than tenor twelve miles from his destination, but it was as yet impossible forhim to travel. The swamp was full of cypresses, and it is a peculiarhabit of these trees to turn their roots straight upward for anydistance, from an inch to many feet, and then to bring them straightdown again, making what are called cypress knees. These knees are verysharp on top, and sometimes stand not more than a foot apart. Being ofall heights, many of them, as Sam knew, were under water now, and thesemade travelling impossible, even if there had been no quagmires to fallinto, as there were. After studying the situation, Sam determined toremain where he was until the water should subside, and then to travelby daylight, at least until he should be out of the swamp and upon highground again. The waters of the creek subsided much more slowly thanthey had risen, and Sam remained at the Sycamore Camp, as he called theplace, for four days and nights before he thought travelling againpracticable.
He then resumed his march, beset by many difficulties. The ground wasmuddy everywhere, and impassably so in some places. There were manyponds and pools left in the swamp, and these had to be avoided, so thatnight had already come before he found himself fairly out of the swampand on the bank of the river, about two miles below the root fortress.He now began to feel all sorts of apprehensions. He had been awayeleven days, and he could not help imagining a variety of terriblethings which might have happened to his little band during his absence.Presently he saw a great light up the river, and at once the thoughtflashed into his mind that the Indians had discovered and butchered theboys and Judie, and were now burning the drift pile.
"I'll hurry on," he said to himself, "and if the Indians are reallythere, it's time for me to take part in this war. I can keep in thetimber and pick off half a dozen of them there in the fire light. Thenif they scalp me, I don't care. I'll at least make them suffer for whatthey've done."
A fierce storm was just breaking,--a storm of the violent and heroictype seen only in tropical and sub-tropical countries, but Sam thoughtnothing of that. He pushed on almost unconsciously, with no thoughtexcept that with his rifle, hidden in the darkness, he could wage onesharp and terrible battle with the murderers of Judie and Tom and Joe,before suffering death at their hands. The lightning struck a tree justahead of him, but he seemed not to observe the fact. He was going intobattle, and what was a thunderbolt more or less at such a time. The rainfollowed, drenching him instantly, but not dampening his determinationin the least.