by Zane Grey
IV. LOST IN THE FOREST
For a moment I was dazed. And then came panic. I ran up this ridge andthat one, I rushed to and fro over ground which looked, whatever way Iturned, exactly the same. And I kept saying, "I'm lost! I'm lost!" Notuntil I dropped exhausted against a pine-tree did any other thought cometo me.
The moment that I stopped running about so aimlessly the panicky feelingleft me. I remembered that for a ranger to be lost in the forest was anevery-day affair, and the sooner I began that part of my education thebetter. Then it came to me how foolish I had been to get alarmed, when Iknew that the general slope of the forest led down to the open country.
This put an entirely different light upon the matter. I still had somefears that I might not soon find Dick Leslie, but these I dismissed forthe present, at least. A suitable place to camp for the night must befound. I led the mustang down into the hollows, keeping my eye sharp forgrass. Presently I came to a place that was wet and soggy at the bottom,and, following this up for quite a way, I found plenty of grass and apool of clear water.
Often as I had made camp back in the woods of Pennsylvania, the doingof it now was new. For this was not play; it was the real thing, and itmade the old camping seem tame. I took the saddle off Hal and tied himwith my lasso, making as long a halter as possible. Slipping the packfrom the pony was an easier task than the getting it back again waslikely to prove. Next I broke open a box of cartridges and loadedthe Winchester. My revolver was already loaded, and hung on my belt.Remembering Dick's letters about the bears and mountain-lions inPenetier Forest, I got a good deal of comfort out of my weapons. ThenI built a fire, and while my supper was cooking I scraped up a mass ofpine-needles for a bed. Never had I sat down to a meal with such a senseof strange enjoyment.
But when I had finished and had everything packed away and covered,my mind began to wander in unexpected directions. Why was it that thetwilight seemed to move under the giant pines and creep down thehollow? While I gazed the gray shadows deepened to black, and night camesuddenly. My campfire seemed to give almost no light, yet close at handthe flickering gleams played hide-and-seek among the pines and chased upthe straight tree trunks. The crackling of my fire and the light stepsof the grazing mustangs only emphasized the silence of the forest. Thena low moaning from a distance gave me a chill. At first I had no ideawhat it was, but presently I thought it must be the wind in the pines.It bore no resemblance to any sound I had ever before heard in thewoods. It would murmur from different parts of the forest; sometimes itwould cease for a little, and then travel and swell toward me, only todie away again. But it rose steadily, with shorter intervals of silence,until the intermittent gusts swept through the tree-tops with a rushingroar. I had listened to the crash of the ocean surf, and the resemblancewas a striking one.
Listening to this mournful wind with all my ears I was the betterprepared for any lonesome cries of the forest; nevertheless, a sudden,sharp "Ki-yi-i!" seemingly right at my back, gave me a fright that sentmy tongue to the roof of my mouth.
Fumbling at the hammer of my rifle, I peered into the black-streakedgloom of the forest. The crackling of dry twigs brought me to my feet.At the same moment the mustangs snorted. Something was prowling aboutjust beyond the light. I thought of a panther. That was the only beast Icould think of which had such an unearthly cry.
Then another bowl, resembling that of a dog, and followed by yelps andbarks, told me that I was being visited by a pack of coyotes. I spentthe good part of an hour listening to their serenade. The wild, mournfulnotes sent quivers up my back. By-and-by they went away, and as my firehad burned down to a red glow and the night wind had grown cold I beganto think of sleep.
But I was not sleepy. When I had stretched out on the soft bed ofpine-needles with my rifle close by, and was all snug and warm under theheavy blanket, it seemed that nothing was so far away from me as sleep.The wonder of my situation kept me wide awake, my eyes on the dim hugepines and the glimmer of stars, and my ears open to the rush and roarof the wind, every sense alert. Hours must have passed as I lay thereliving over the things that had happened and trying to think out whatwas to come. At last, however, I rolled over on my side, and with myhand on the rifle and my cheek close to the sweet-smelling pine-needlesI dropped asleep.
When I awoke the forest was bright and sunny.
"You'll make a fine forester," I said aloud, in disgust at my tardiness.Then began the stern business of the day. While getting breakfast Iturned over in my mind the proper thing for me to do. Evidently I mustpack and find the trail. The pony had wandered off into the woods,but was easily caught--a fact which lightened my worry, for I knew howdependent I was upon my mustangs. When I had tried for I do not know howlong to get my pack to stay on the pony's back I saw where Mr. Clesshad played a joke on me. All memory of the diamond-hitch had faded intoutter confusion. First the pack fell over the off-side; next, on top ofme; then the saddle slipped awry, and when I did get the pack to remainstationary upon the patient pony, how on earth to tie it there becamemore and more of a mystery. Finally, in sheer desperation, I ran roundthe pony, pulled, tugged, and knotted the lasso; more by luck thanthrough sense I had accomplished something in the nature of thediamond-hitch.
I headed Hal up the gentle forest slope, and began the day's journeywherever chance might lead me. As confidence came, my enjoymentincreased. I began to believe I could take care of myself. I reasonedout that, as the peaks were snow-capped, I should find water, and verylikely game, up higher. Moreover, I might climb a foothill or bluff fromwhich I could get my bearings.
It seemed to me that I passed more pine-trees than I could have imaginedthere were in the whole world. Miles and miles of pines! And in everymile they grew larger and ruggeder and farther apart, and so high thatI could hardly see the tips. After a time I got out of the almost levelforest into ground ridged and hollowed, and found it advisable to turnmore to the right. On the sunny southern slopes I saw trees that dwarfedthe ones on the colder and shady north sides. I also found many smallpines and seedlings growing in warm, protected places. This showed methe value of the sun to a forest. Though I kept a lookout for deer orgame of any kind, I saw nothing except some black squirrels with whitetails. They were beautiful and very tame, and one was nibbling at what Iconcluded must have been a seed from a pine-cone.
Presently I fancied that I espied a moving speck far down through theforest glades. I stopped Hal, and, watching closely, soon made certainof it. Then it became lost for a time, but reappeared again somewhatcloser. It was like a brown blur and scarcely moved. I reined Hal moreto the right. Not for quite a while did I see the thing again, and whenI did it looked so big and brown that I took up my Winchester. Then itdisappeared once more.
I descended into a hollow, and tying Hal, I stole forward on foot,hoping by that means to get close to the strange object without beingseen myself.
I waited behind a pine, and suddenly three horsemen rode across a gladenot two hundred yards away. The foremost rider was no other than theMexican whom I had reason to remember.
The huge trunk amply concealed me, but, nevertheless, I crouched down.How strange that I should run into that Mexican again! Where was hegoing? Had he followed me? Was there a trail?
As long as the three men were in sight I watched them. When the lastbrown speck had flitted and disappeared far away in the forest Iretraced my steps to my mustang, pondering upon this new turn in myaffairs.
"Things are bound to happen to me," I concluded, "and I may as well makeup my mind to that."
While standing beside Hal, undecided as to my next move, I heard awhistle. It was faint, perhaps miles away, yet unmistakably it was thewhistle of an engine. I wondered if the railroad turned round this sideof the peaks. Mounting Hal, I rode down the forest to the point where Ihad seen the men, and there came upon a trail. I proceeded along thisin the direction the men had taken. I had come again to the slow-risinglevel that I had noted earlier in my morning's journey. After severalmiles a light or opening in the
forest ahead caused me to use morecaution. As I rode forward I saw a vast area of tree-tops far below, andthen I found myself on the edge of a foot-hill.
Right under me was a wide, yellow, bare spot, miles across, a horribleslash in the green forest, and in the middle of it, surrounded by stackson stacks of lumber, was a great sawmill.
I stared in utter amazement. A sawmill on Penetier! Even as I gazed atrain of fresh-cut lumber trailed away into the forest.
