by H. A. Cody
CHAPTER XI
INTO THE GREAT UNKNOWN
For a few seconds Reynolds stared upon his new discovery. Then heexamined the walls elsewhere, and no matter where he looked, he foundnuggets of gold protruding from the earth. His excitement now becameintense, and seizing a burning stick he began to explore the cave.Everywhere it was the same. The earth beneath his feet was even filledwith nuggets, and, they gleamed upon him from overhead. He felt thathe must be dreaming, or else his terrible experiences of late hadturned his brain. Could it be possible that he had accidentallystumbled upon a vein of the precious metal, rich beyond the wildestbounds of imagination! He put his hand to his face, and even pinchedhimself to make sure that he was awake.
When the brand had flickered out, he walked back to the fire and satdown. He tried to calm himself that he might think over his wonderfuldiscovery. The rain still pelted down outside, and the wind roaredamong the trees. But Reynolds paid no attention to them now. He sawnothing but gold, heaps of it, piled high before him, and himself therichest man in the whole world. What would not the miners of Big Drawgive to know of this discovery! How they would flock to the place,followed by thousands of others. What a change would ensue in a shorttime. No longer would it be the desolate wilderness, but alive withfrantic human beings.
But suppose he should never live to tell the tale? He was lost, farfrom any habitation, and with only enough food for a most meagrebreakfast. No, he must not die. It was necessary for him to live, tomake his great discovery known; and to reap the rich harvest himself.And Glen! Again he thought of her. He would be able to go to her arich man instead of almost a beggar. He smiled as he recalled what hehad said to Frontier Samson. The prospector had given him his choicebetween gold and the girl, and he had chosen the latter. His love hadnot changed in the least degree, but why should he not have the gold aswell as the girl?
Reynolds sat for a long time that night absorbed in deep thought. Heslept upon the ground, and his dreams were a jumble of wild animals,gold, and a beautiful girl. He awoke early and noted with satisfactionthat the storm had ceased, and the sky was clear. Having eaten thelast of the salmon, he left the cave and viewed his surroundings inorder to locate his bearings should he ever return to the place. Hebelieved that he was about half way up the highest hill in theimmediate vicinity, and that he could not fail to miss seeing it from adistance. He noticed that the hill formed the apex of a triangularformation, while two hills, one to the right and the other to left,served as base corners. He was sure that he could remember suchguiding marks, and would be able to return to the cave without anydifficulty.
It was with a feeling of reluctance that he at length left the cave andagain assayed the climb up the side of the hill, which became steeperand more precipitous the farther he advanced. At times he was forcedto pull himself up by means of roots and small trees, so his progresswas accordingly slow. The sun was hot, and often he grew faint fromheat and fatigue. He watched for any sign of life, of rabbit, bird, orsquirrel. But the place seemed deserted, and even the plant life wasscant and scrubby. A fierce thirst came upon him, for no water hadpassed his lips since the previous day.
Thus hour after hour he toiled upward. He did not dare to return tothe brook below, for that would mean certain death. It had to be everon until the summit was reached, and what then? His courage almostfailed as he thought of what that barren peak might have in store forhim. He had been disappointed so often, surely Fate would not abandonhim now after he had made such a fierce fight for life.
When but a hundred yards from his goal, he paused for a minute'srespite. He turned his bloodshot eyes to the sky. A great eagle wassoaring majestically athwart the blue. It seemed to mock him by itseasy flight. It angered him as he followed its every movement. Whyshould a mere bird have such freedom of motion, while man was sohelpless? To the eagle, distance was nothing; it laughed the highestmountain peak to scorn, and its food was wherever its fancy led. Hesuddenly thought of the gold he had discovered. In the world ofcivilization what a power it would mean. What could it not do towardproviding ease and reputation? And of what use was that treasure tohim now? It was of no more value than the stones beneath his feet, andhe would gladly have given it all for one good meal and a draught ofrefreshing water.
The eagle was still soaring overhead, free and buoyant. It was nearernow, wheeling closer and closer to Reynolds as he clung like a snail tothe side of the hill. And he was made in the image of God! Thethought stung him. Why should such things be? Instantly there flashedinto his mind a picture he had often seen. It was the side of a steepcliff, and there a shepherd was rescuing a sheep from its perilousposition. The man was clinging with His left hand to a crevice in therock, while with His right He was reaching far over to lift up the pooranimal, which was looking up pathetically into the shepherd's lovingface. He knew the meaning of that picture, and it came to him now witha startling intensity. Why did he think of it? he asked himself.Although his life was clean, yet Reynolds was not what might be calleda religious man. He was not in the habit of praying, and he seldomwent to church. But something about that picture appealed to him as hecrouched on that burning hillside. Was there One who would help himout of his present difficulty? He believed there was, for he had beenso taught as a little child. He remembered the Master's words, "Ask,and ye shall have." "Here, then, is a chance to test the truthfulnessof that saying," a voice whispered.
"I shall not do it," Reynolds emphatically declared. "I have notprayed for so long, that I'm not going to act the hypocrite now, andcry for help when I'm in a tight corner. I daresay He would assist me,but I am ashamed to ask Him. If I should only think of a friend when Iam in trouble I should consider myself a mean cur, and unfit to havethe friendship of anyone. And that's about how I stand with Him, so Ido not consider myself worthy of His help."
Although Reynolds reasoned in this manner, yet that picture of The GoodShepherd inspired him. He could not get it out of his mind as he laythere watching the eagle soaring nearer and nearer.
"I wonder what that bird is after?" he mused. "It is coming this way,and it seems to be getting ready to alight. Perhaps it has a nestsomewhere on this hill."
This thought aroused him. An eagle's nest! It was generally built onsome high rocky place, and why should there not be one here? And ifso, there might be eggs, and eggs would mean food for a starving man.
Eagerly and anxiously he watched the bird now, hoping and longing thatit would alight close to where he was crouching. Neither was hedisappointed, for in a few minutes the eagle drove straight for thehill, about fifty yards above, and landed upon a rocky ledge. Seizinga stick lying near, with cat-like agility, Reynolds sprang forward, andhurried to the spot where the bird had alighted. From what he hadheard and read about eagles he surmised that a struggle lay ahead ofhim, so he clutched the stick firmly as he advanced.
It took him but a few minutes to reach the place, and as he paused andlooked keenly around for the nest, an infuriated mass of great wingsand feathers hurled itself upon him. Taken by surprise, Reynoldsstaggered back, and lifted his stick to ward off the attack. How hesaved himself from being torn to pieces by the talons and beak of thatangry bird he never could tell. It was a mystery to him that he wasable to defend himself at all. But do it he did, and used his stick insuch a skilful manner that he kept the creature from tearing at hisface. Fortunately he had a good footing, which enabled him to retreatat each desperate onslaught, and to meet the bird with a furious blowas it wheeled and circled close above his head. But he realised thathe could not endure the strain much longer, for he was weak throughlack of food and hard climbing. The energy of the eagle, on the otherhand, seemed just as keen as ever, and it might continue the fight forhours. Reynolds grew desperate as he thought of this, and he wasdetermined that he should not leave his body there as food for hisopponent.
He watched as the bird again circled and once more swept to the attack.But he was
ready, and as it swooped close enough he threw his entireremaining strength into one great swinging blow. The stick struck theeagle fair on the head with a resounding crash, and so great was theforce of the impact that the cudgel snapped like a pipestem, and thebroken end hurtled over the ledge. The eagle's fight was done. Itswerved from its course, and frantically tried to recover itself. Butall in vain. Far out over the hillside it swung, and then a helplessand inert mass, it dropped down, and crashed into the tops of the firsand jack-pines, which lifted their heads like pointed spears to receivethe victim.
Reynolds watched until the bird had disappeared. Then he breathed adeep sigh of relief, and examined his wounds. His hands were bleeding,and such clothes as he had were literally torn into shreds. He was soweak that he could hardly stand, and he sank down upon the ground.
"How long will this keep up?" he panted. "What else lies before me? Iam a poor specimen of a human being now, and unfitted for anotherencounter of any kind. This was my own fault, though. That poor devilI just sent to its doom was merely acting in self-defence. But thesurvival of the fittest is the law of the wilderness just as in theways of so-called civilization. That bird had what I needed; and thatsettles it."
This turned his mind upon the nest, which he suspected was somewherenear. In another minute he had found it, a mass of sticks, in themidst of which was a hollow lined with wild grass, and lying there werethree white eggs. Eagerly he seized one, and held it in his hand. Wasit fresh? he wondered, or was it ready to be hatched?
Drawing forth his pocket-knife, he perforated each end of the egg, andsmelled the contents. It was fresh, having been recently laid. Inanother instant it was at his parched lips, and never did he rememberhaving tasted anything half as refreshing. Then he looked longingly atthe other two.
"No, I must not eat them now," he told himself. "I shall need them forsupper and breakfast. The Lord only knows when I shall get anythingmore."
The mention of the Lord brought back to him the picture of The GoodShepherd rescuing the lost sheep. "Strange, very strange," he mused,as he picked up the eggs and continued his climb. "Can it be possiblethat the Lord had anything to do with that eagle coming here just whenI was about all in, and ready to drop from hunger and thirst? I am notashamed, anyway, to confess my gratitude, even though I disliked theidea of praying."
A few minutes later he stood on the top of the hill, a bleak, desolatespot, rocky, and devoid of the least sign of vegetation. But thismattered nothing to him now, for his eyes rested almost immediatelyupon a silver gleam away to the left. It was water, and a river atthat! An exclamation of joy leaped from his lips, as from that lonelypeak he viewed the river of his salvation. Where it led, he did notknow, but surely along that stream he would find human beings, able andwilling to succor him.
Forgotten now was his weariness, and a new hope possessed his soul. Hecould not expect to reach the river that afternoon, for several valleysand small hills intervened. But he could go part of the way and on themorrow complete the journey. Carefully guarding his two precious eggs,he hurried down the opposite side of the hill as fast as it waspossible, and night found him by the side of a small wood-enshroudedlake. Here he stopped, drank of the cool refreshing water, and built asmall fire. Finding a smooth stone, he washed it clean, and heating itthoroughly, he was enabled to fry one of the eggs upon the surface. Inthe morning the other was treated in a similar manner, and thusstrengthened, but his hunger not appeased, he sped onward.
This last lap of his journey to the river was a trying one. Reynoldsmade it more difficult by his feverish impatience, and when about themiddle of the afternoon he heard the ripple of water, and caught thefirst gleam through the trees of its sparkling surface, he wascompletely exhausted, and had only sufficient strength to drag hisweary form to the river's bank. A refreshing drink of the ice-coldwater and a rest of a few minutes revived him. The stream was swift,far swifter than he had anticipated. But this encouraged him, for ifonce launched upon its surface it would bear him speedily out of thatdesolate wilderness.
A craft of some kind was necessary, so searching around, he foundseveral good-sized trees, stripped and bare, which had been broughtdown stream by the spring floods, and left stranded upon the bank.With considerable difficulty he managed to fashion these into a ruderaft, binding all together with strong, pliable willow withes. As aboy he had often made rafts, and the knowledge acquired then served himin good stead now.
Finding a stout pole, he stepped upon the raft, and to his delightfound that it would easily bear his weight. Pushing it from the shore,it was soon caught by the strong current and borne rapidly down stream.The steering was an easy matter, so, sitting upon the raft, he gavehimself up to the luxury of this new mode of travel. It was such agreat relief from his fearful wandering through the woods and climbingthe hills, that but for his pangs of hunger he would have been quitehappy.
All through, the night the raft swung on its way, the plaything of thecurrent which kept it clear of bars and rocks. Reynolds did not dareto sleep, for he could not tell what lay ahead. It might be adangerous rapid, or at any minute he might come to some camp along theshore, and it would be necessary to be wide awake and alert.
But nothing happened, and morning found him still floating onward intothe great unknown. He was ravenously hungry, and once he ran the raftashore and gathered a number of willow twigs. These he gnawed as heonce more continued his voyage. This, however, was poor food for astarving man, and he was well aware that unless he could obtainsomething more substantial he must miserably perish. Game wasplentiful along the river, and several times he saw moose and bears,while early that morning he ran close to a flock of wild ducks. Buttheir presence only mocked him now, weaponless as he was.
This day was a most trying one, for about the middle of the forenoon itbegan to rain, and Reynolds was wet to the skin as he sat huddled uponthe raft. Anxiously he peered forward, hoping that around every bendsomething more cheering than the monotonous trees would meet his eyes.But hour after hour it was just the same, and the rain continuedwithout any cessation. Would the river never end? he asked himselfover and over again. Whither was it bearing him, anyway? At times thesinuous water appeared like a demon, carrying him on to destruction.Its gurgle and ripple sounded in his ears like mocking laughter, andthe great brooding forest in its intense silence seemed in league withthe stream. Of what avail were all his mighty efforts? He had escapedfrom the tangle of the forest, only to be lured to ruin by the river.
The afternoon waned, and night drew near, and still the raft sweptonward. Reynolds felt that he could endure the strain but littlelonger. He was chilled to the bone, and cramped from his huddledposition. He must land, and get some circulation in his body,providing he had any strength left.
He was about to run the raft ashore, when to his great delight itsuddenly shot forth from its forest prison into the open expanse of abroad and silent lake. Reynolds staggered painfully to his feet andlooked around. He could only see a short distance, as a heavy mist layover the water. His eyes scanned the shore, but no sign of humanhabitation could he behold. There was nothing except the same scene ofdesolation which had been his companion for weary days.
The raft was motionless now, some distance out upon the lake. SlowlyReynolds forced it to the shore, and secured it in a little cove.
"I might as well stay here for the night," he muttered. "It may beclear to-morrow which will enable me to see farther. Oh, for somethingto eat!"
With much difficulty he started a fire, for the wood was wet, and thenwarmed himself before the cheerful blaze. It was not raining so hardnow, for which he was thankful. He tried to dry his rags of clothes byhanging them on sticks near the fire. His boots were off his feet,with the uppers alone clinging to his ankles. Removing these, heexamined them. Then an idea flashed into his mind. He had heard ofmen eating their boots in their extremity, and why should not he! Itwas worth the try, at any rate.
; It took him but a second to whip out his knife and cut a piece from thetop of one of the boots. This he washed clean in the lake, and tastedit. Only one on the extreme verge of starvation can in any mannercomprehend what even a portion of a boot means. There is somenourishment there, as Reynolds soon found. Almost ravenously he chewedthat piece of leather, extracting from it whatever life-givingsubstance it contained. When it had been converted to mere pulp, hehelped himself to another piece. He was in a most desperate situation,but if he could sustain his strength for another night and day hebelieved that his life would be spared. Surely along that lake hewould find human beings, whether Indians or whites he did not care, whowould give him food.
He awoke early the next morning, and having partaken his breakfast ofanother piece of boot, he pushed off his raft. There was only one wayfor him to go, and that was with the breeze which was drawing down thelake. The mist was now lifting, and although he strained his eyes, hecould see no sign of life. He had to pole the raft now, and in orderto do so he was forced to keep close to the shore where the water wasshallow.
Thus all through the morning and far on into the afternoon he urged theraft forward with all the strength at his command. There were so manycurves to the shore that following these lengthened the voyage. Frompoint to point he moved, each time to be disappointed as he lookedahead and saw nothing but trees and water.
The sun was hot, and the perspiration poured down his face. But withthe energy of despair he drove his pole again and again into the water.As the afternoon waned, and night drew near, the limit of his endurancewas reached, and he knew that he could do no more. He had struggledfor life, but to no purpose. Rest was all that he cared for now. Hishead began to swim, and he sank exhausted upon the raft. And there helay, face downward, while the raft drifted at its own sweet will.Presently a breeze sprang up and cooled the air. But it did not affectReynolds in the least. He had fought to the last grain of strength,and when that left him he was beyond all sense of time, place, andfeeling.
