Glen of the High North

by H. A. Cody

  CHAPTER X

  ADRIFT IN THE WILDERNESS

  Nowhere, perhaps, except adrift in mid-ocean, is the sense ofloneliness more appalling than to be lost in a labyrinthine forest ofthe mighty north. Even upon the ocean there is always the chance ofbeing picked up by a passing vessel. But lost in the wilderness!hidden from view, what hope can the stoutest heart entertain of rescue?Here a man is but a thing of naught, an insect creeping upon theground, a mere speck, the veritable plaything of chance.

  Reynolds, however, was well hardened to desperate situations. Often inFrance he had been alone in "No Man's Land," with death close at hand.He had never flinched then, and he was determined that he would not doso now.

  "I told Harmon that I like adventure and desperate undertakings," hemused. "I have certainly enough here to satisfy me for a while. Butit can't be helped, and so I must make the best of it. Rest is what Ineed at present, and I am not going to worry about to-morrow. 'Onething at a time' has been my motto, and I guess it's a good one."

  He awoke early the next morning, though the sun was up ahead of him.He sprang to his feet and peered around. But nothing could he see,except trees on every side.

  "I must get out of this," he muttered, "and strike for the high hills.Perhaps there I may be able to get my proper bearings. I must find abreakfast somewhere, but with my scanty supply of ammunition, it isnecessary to be careful."

  Picking up his rifle, he started forth, and for several hours movedsteadily onward. Through a break in the forest he had caught sight ofa high hill, and toward this he laboriously made his way. He had todescend first into a deep valley, where a large wild meadow offered aninviting feeding-ground for moose. But not a sign of life could hesee, and greatly disappointed he was forced to begin the hard climb upthe opposite side of the hill.

  About the middle of the afternoon he succeeded in shooting a rabbit,which he at once skinned and broiled over a small fire. He was weakfrom hunger and hard, anxious travelling, so this food gave him muchrefreshment. He ate sparingly, nevertheless, knowing that he might notbe able to procure anything more for supper. With only two cartridgesleft, his outlook was far from encouraging.

  When the summit of the hill was at length reached, he climbed a largefir tree from which he was enabled to obtain an excellent view of thesurrounding country. Far off rose great snow-capped mountain peaks,over which fleecy clouds were lazily drifting. A vast sea of foreststretched on every side, broken here and there by placid, shimmeringlakes. But which was the one near the camp where Frontier Samson wasno doubt anxiously awaiting the wanderer's return? That was thequestion which agitated Reynolds' mind. No sign of human life could hebehold, and he wondered in which direction Big Draw mining camp lay.So completely had he lost his bearings that he had no idea which wasthe right course to pursue. Anyway, it was necessary to keep on themove, for to remain where he was meant certain death. If he must die,he would die fighting, game to the very last. Surely beyond some ofthose outstanding hills he could find a river, which would bear him outof that wilderness maze. A high crest to the left looked promising,and toward this he at once started.

  He slept that night in a valley by a little brook which gurgled down toa lake beyond. The remains of the rabbit served him for supper, andwhere was he to obtain his next meal? He had startled several grouseduring the day, and once he detected the plunging of a moose. Butnothing came within the range of his rifle except a few noisysquirrels, but upon these he did not dare to waste his two remainingcartridges. In his extremity he would have welcomed the sight of abear, and even a grizzly at that. He could then afford to exhaust hisammunition, as the flesh of a bear would last him for many days. Butno bear had he met, although signs of them were at times abundant,especially in the valleys.

  The next morning in a mood of desperation, he took a long shot at aflying grouse and missed it. One cartridge now remained, and it wasabsolutely necessary to reserve that for something large. Down thevalley lay a big wide meadow, and here he believed he might find amoose feeding. It was worth trying, at any rate. Walking warily alongthe edge of the forest, he was at length rewarded by seeing a fineanimal some distance off on the opposite side of the meadow. Reynoldsinstantly stopped, and his hands trembled through the excitement of hisdiscovery. If he could get a little closer he felt sure that the moosewould be his. But just as he took a few steps forward, the animallifted its great head and sniffed the air. There was not a second tolose, so bringing the rifle to his shoulder, he took a quick aim andfired. With a startled snort, the moose reared, staggered, and thenwith tremendous leaps bounded across the twenty or thirty yards ofintervening meadow and vanished in the forest. Reynolds could hear itcrashing its way among the trees as he hurried out into the open. Thesounds grew fainter and fainter, and finally ceased. The animal hadmade good its escape, although evidently wounded.

  Reynolds' previous discouragement was nothing to what he experiencednow. He moved mechanically toward the spot where the moose had beengrazing. Why he did so he could not tell. He reached the border ofthe forest, and flung himself down upon the grass. With his lastcartridge gone, what chance had he of life? He had been in many a direstrait in the past, but nothing to equal this. He was face to facewith death, more surely and in a far more terrible form than he hadever encountered in far off France.

  "This is certainly 'No Man's Land,'" he muttered. "I do not believe ahuman being ever trod this region before and it is not likely thatanyone will come here during the next one hundred years. And to thinkthat I missed that shot when my life depended upon it! It must be mynerves."

  A feeling of annoyance swept upon him, and picking up his rifle, hehurled it among the trees.

  "Lie there," he ordered. "You are of no use to me now, and I have nostrength to tote you along."

  Then he laughed, and the hollow sound of his voice startled him. Hesprang to his feet and looked around. Why had he laughed? he askedhimself. Was he going out of his mind? He glanced at his hands andshuddered, so bruised and bleeding were they. His clothes, too, werein tatters, while his boots were so worn that portions of his feet werevisible.

  For a few minutes he stood rigidly still, as if in a dream. Theintense loneliness of the place was appalling. It was unnerving him,and he was losing control of himself. Suddenly he started and ran asif for life, back over the track he had recently traversed. He was nolonger the Tom Reynolds who had started forth from Big Draw, but adenizen of the wilds. The desire for food possessed him. It made himmad, a demon, ready to fall upon any creature that crossed his path.He was crafty as well, and reaching the shelter of the forest, heglided cautiously along the edge of the meadow, up toward the littlebrook where he had slept the night before. No tiger creeping throughthe jungle moved more stealthily than did he. Nothing escaped hisnotice, and he eagerly watched for rabbit or squirrel that he mightpounce upon it.

  For some time he thus advanced, but nothing could he see. At length hecame to an opening in the trees, which exposed the brook plainly toview. His eyes swept the stream, and as they did so they presentlyrested upon a black object crouched upon a fallen tree projecting outover the brook. He recognized it at once as a black bear, watching forfish. It was lying flat on the log, with one big paw close to thewater waiting for its breakfast.

  Reynolds' first impulse was to rush forward and engage the brute in adeadly conflict. But a natural caution restrained him, and heaccordingly waited to see what would happen. Neither did he have towait long, for in a twinkling the big paw struck, the water splashed,and a shiny form hurtled through the air, and fell several yards away.And after it sprang the bear, but his body had scarcely left the logere Reynolds was bounding toward him with such yells and whoops thatthe forest resounded on all sides. Startled and surprised beyondmeasure, the bear paused and looked back. Seeing, but notunderstanding the strange creature rushing toward him with wildlywaving arms, and emitting such blood-curdling yells, it uttered ahoarse growl of fear and rage
and lumbered off for the shelter of theforest as fast as its legs would carry it.

  Reynolds paid no more attention to the bear than if it had been a gnat,but sprang greedily upon the fish, which was wriggling and beatingitself around upon the ground. It was a young king-salmon, andalthough not large, Reynolds thought it the finest fish he had everbeheld. It did not take him long to despatch his prize, and in a fewminutes a portion of it was sizzling over a small fire he had lighted.Never had any food tasted so good, he imagined, and the strength thusgained brought back his normal state of mind. He felt more likehimself, and ready for another effort to free himself from hiswilderness prison. He even smiled as he thought of the bear's frightand its ignominious retreat.

  "Lost your breakfast, old boy, didn't you?" he called out. "Youweren't expecting company, were you? But I am grateful to you, andwish you better luck next time."

  Taking with him the remainder of the fish, Reynolds once more continuedhis journey. The high ridge was a long way off, and before it could bereached it would be necessary to cross several smaller hills and anumber of valleys. But with strength renewed, he sped onward.

  All through the day the heat had been almost over-powering. It pouredits hot rays full upon him, and not a breath of wind stirred the trees.He was about half way up the high hill when the weather suddenlychanged. The sky darkened, and the wind began to howl through theforest. Great black clouds massed in vast battalions overhead, and inless than half an hour the storm burst.

  Reynolds had paused on a rocky ledge as the tempest swept upon him.Never before had he experienced such a storm. It seemed as if the verywindows of heaven had suddenly opened to deluge the earth. He lookedhurriedly around for shelter, and seeing an overhanging portion ofrock, he at once made his way thither, and crouched low for protection.The rain, however, swirled in after him, forcing him to move fartherback. That he was able to do this surprised him, and feeling with hishands, he discovered that there was a big open space to the rear, andthat he was at the entrance of a cave, how large he did not know.Fortunately he was provided with a good supply of matches, so strikingone, he examined his new abode. The brief feeble light showed that thecave was about a foot higher than his head, and much larger than he hadsupposed. He had no inclination to explore it just then, for some drysticks lying at his feet arrested his attention. He was hungry afterhis hard tramp, so a piece of salmon would be most acceptable.

  It did not take him long to light a small fire as near the mouth of thecave as the rain would permit, and, prepare his meal. The fire feltgood, too, for the air was damp and chilly.

  "I might as well spend the night here," he mused, "for even if thestorm does let up, I would only get soaked from the drenched trees.And, besides, I cannot see anything from the top of the hill until theclouds roll away and the air clears."

  He ate the nicely browned piece of fish, and when he had finished heleaned comfortably back, filled and lighted his pipe. This was thefirst time he had thought of smoking since leaving Frontier Samson. Hewondered where the old prospector was, and whether he was huntingfrantically for his lost companion. His mind turned naturally to Glen.He was farther from her now than ever, and should he see her again?The thought of her had stimulated him during his recent terribleexperiences. Over and over again she seemed to be standing by hisside, urging him to go on, and renewing his fainting spirits. Hepictured her now as he had last seen her at the top of that steeptrail, mounted upon her horse. He recalled for the thousandth time herclear musical voice, the bright flash of her eyes, and the deep flushwhich had mantled her cheeks at the mention of Curly's name.

  "I must find her," he emphatically declared, as he stirred up thedwindling fire, and added a couple of sticks. "I expected to be withher before this, but here I am, lodged like a bear in this dismal hole."

  He glanced around the cave, and as he did so, he gave a sudden start.Something in one side of the wall where the fire-light fell attractedhis attention. It made his heart beat fast, and brought him to hisfeet in an instant. His hand reached up and touched it. Then hequickly struck a match, and examined it more carefully. Yes, he wasright, and he had made no mistake. It was gold!