Immediately after, he was taken with a sickness at the stomach, the result, doubtless, of the mental shock received. Such was his faintness and nausea that he lay down upon the ground for relief. When a boy feels so sick—as shown also by older persons in seasickness—he generally becomes perfectly indifferent to everything else in the world. Elwood concluded that Howard might whistle as long as he chose, and he would reply when he felt able. As for the gathering darkness, wild animals and savages, what did he care for them? They could exist and get along without his taking any trouble to think about them.
And so he lay still until his sickness diminished and was gradually succeeded by drowsiness, which was not long in merging into slumber.
Whoever yet remembered the moment he went to sleep? Whoever lay still to gain a few moments of slumber without obtaining far more than he expected, and regretting it when his intellect became sharp and clear?
It was near midnight when Elwood awoke, and all was blank darkness. He called to Howard and Tim, and not until he had felt around with his hands, did he remember his situation. Then it all came to him.
“This is a pretty piece of business,” he thought, as he arose to his feet. “Poor Howard is half-frightened to death, and I suppose is still hunting for me. But I don’t hear him.”
He listened, but all was still.
“It may be that he has grown tired, but will hear me if I call to him.”
Whereupon he whistled again and again, and shouted and listened and then repeated his signals, but there was no response. But for the intervening hills his cry would have reached the two watchers by the river shore, but with twice the penetrating power he still would have failed to reach them.
“Well, the best thing I can do is to wait here until morning, and then I can make my way back again.”
His sickness was gone, but he felt somewhat chilled from lying upon the ground with no extra covering, although the night was quite moderate, if not really warm. The contact with the ground had made a portion of his body cold, and the sluggish circulation prompted him to exercise.
“I hardly know whether to stay here or to go back to the woods and take refuge in a tree. Some animals may find me here, while I shall be safe if I am only twenty feet above ground.”
The vivid recollection of the wolverines gave him this fear and finally induced him to leave the place and seek shelter.
But at the moment of starting he was confronted by an alarming difficulty. He found it impossible to decide upon the proper course to follow, and could not tell with certainty which way led in or out. This resulted from his having turned around several times in his effort to restore warmth and circulation on awaking from his sleep. Had he not done this the position in which he lay during slumber would have told him the truth.
“How strange!” he reflected, vainly seeking to recover from his bewilderment. “If I only had a little light I think I could tell, but this is rather delicate business when I don’t know whether I may go over the rocks or not.”
He leaned against the wall of the path and thought. At last he believed he knew which way to turn, and facing backward he began to pick his way out. This, we may say, was the right course, and had he only persevered in it would have brought him out of the hills into the woods, restored him to Tim and Howard a few hours later and saved him one of the most momentous experiences of his life.
He had retreated but a few rods when he became sure he had made a mistake and was going wrong. It seemed from his contact with the rocks and the curious windings it made, that he had never passed over the ground, but was advancing further into the hills.
“This will not do,” he said aloud, as he paused. “I am astray and must change about.”
He did so at once, and believing, of a surety, that he was now upon the right path he walked much faster than was prudent. The truth was, the associations of the plate were such as to make him in a hurry to get away from it. He knew he would feel relieved when he could get once more into the open air of the woods. A strange fear that the overhanging rock would fall or imprison him caused him to hasten still more. After walking some time further he slackened his steps.
“I must be pretty near the opening, judging by the distance I have come; and if such be the case—”
Further words were checked, for at that instant Elwood stepped off the path and went down—down!
CHAPTER XLII
A Dreary Night
Elwood fell about twenty feet, striking the solid earth, without losing his own perpendicular position. He was considerably pained, but not seriously hurt. His rifle had fallen from his hand, and was not found again until daybreak, as not knowing where he stood, whether upon the edge of some precipice or ravine, he scarcely dared move a limb.
Ah! if the night was so weary to the watchers by the river shore, it was much more so to him for whom they thus lay awake. Utter midnight blackness all around, the profound and impressive stillness made more profound and impressive by the trickling of some current near, the occasional glimpse of some tiny star twinkling among the dark, straggling clouds overhead; such was Elwood Brandon’s situation and surroundings.
His only resource was thought, and the direction which this took for a time was anything but a relief. He saw that he himself was to blame for the disaster of the day. It was he who proposed this ramble, and he who insisted so strenuously upon separating from Howard in the journey around the hills. And then his present situation resulted wholly from his own foolishness—to call it no milder term—in entering an unknown path with the simple hope of reaching a designated point a few minutes in advance of his friend, whom he knew well enough had carried out to the letter their agreement, and was waiting his coming.
Had Howard found Tim O’Rooney? That was the next question. Or was he still lingering on the other side of the hills, waiting for the morning to renew his hunt for himself before he sought out his companion? The latter seemed the most probable supposition to Elwood, and the odd whim took him that his cousin was close at hand and listening for the familiar signal. So he placed his fingers to his mouth and repeated the whistle which they had used so many times between them.
He did this again and again, but there was no response, and he finally concluded that it was rather a monotonous manner of passing the time and ceased, and again gave himself up to thought.
If he ever lived to see his friends at home what an experience would be his to tell! The burning steamer, the hours spent in drifting ashore, the wanderings through the wilds of California, this adventure among the hills—surely they were enough to last a life-time.
Now and then a cold draft of wind swept by him, as though the temperature of the air was changing. It was in fact the premonition of the gathering storm to which we have referred in another place.
Elwood had been in his constrained position a couple of hours when he was subjected to a terrible fright. Suddenly some dirt and stones commenced moving near him and he felt it strike his feet. He was fearful that a landslide was about to take place, but did not dare attempt to get out of the way. He could only shrink closer against the rocks, pray to Heaven for protection, and await the issue.
The pebbles rattled around him for a long time, and when they had nearly ceased he learned that the whole tumult was caused by some wild animal. This dissipated all fear of being engulfed by a landslide, but scarcely relieved him. It was simply a change of species in the danger.
He could hear the footsteps of the animal as it walked back and forth. They sounded above his head, but he could not judge with certainty. Several times it gave a low growl, from which he was sure that it was dangerous, and if it knew of his presence and could reach him would speedily end his reckless conduct forever.
The animal was still for a while and the boy was indulging in the belief that it had gone, when he heard its footsteps so near that his hair fairly rose with terror. He stooped down and felt around in the darkness for his gun, but it was not within reach. He caught a huge stone and held i
t in reserve for defense.
Straining his eyes through the darkness, he fancied he could see a dark object above him; but it was only fancy, for to his excited imagination the most extraordinary phantoms were flitting before him—floating in the air, around and above him, like the wonderful visions that visit us in delirium—until he closed his eyes to shut out the tormenting figures.
Perhaps, after all, the presence of the wild animal was the means of saving him, for it kept his mind down to the hard, practical fact that imminent danger was close at hand, and all his thoughts were needed to meet it. He stood a long time grasping the stone and expecting the assault; but the tumult finally ceased and all became still.
When Elwood looked up again he saw that it was growing light, and day was indeed breaking.
CHAPTER XLIII
Wanderings
The light increased each moment, and Elwood Brandon soon saw the position in which he was placed. He had walked along the path and fallen abruptly off, alighting on a projection that ran along the edge of the ravine, and was of sufficient width to only comfortably hold him. Had he gone a yard forward he would have fallen over to another ledge, although this was not more than a dozen feet below. Indeed, his rifle had done this, and now lay on this broad band of earth and gravel, which here sloped so gradually down to the bottom of the ravine that it could be descended without difficulty.
His first proceeding, after thanking Heaven for the protection of the night, was to let himself down to where his rifle lay. An examination proved it uninjured, and with its possession came a feeling of confidence and safety such as he had not felt for a moment during the hours of darkness.
“Now, if that wild creature, whatever it was, would like to introduce itself, I am prepared.”
And he looked around as if he expected its appearance; but it had left some time before. At first he was at a loss to understand what it had chosen as its parade ground, but, concluded it must have been the very path from which he had fallen, and where, had he remained, he could not have avoided falling into its power.
Elwood could not see the possibility of extricating himself by the same way in which he had entered. In some places it was necessary to climb a score or two feet up the perpendicular side of the ravine; and as there was no means at hand for doing this, he thought it best to press on down among the hills in the hope of discovering a new way of egress, or an easier access to the paths behind him.
He wandered rather aimlessly forward, his path being over loose, rattling stones, constantly descending, until he reached the hard-packed earth, and judged himself to be in about the lowermost part of the valley. On every hand rose the ridges, rocks and peaks of the hills, until, as he looked up at the cloudy sky so far above him, he seemed but the merest pigmy.
As he turned his head he caught sight of something a few rods ahead that puzzled him. For some time he could not make out its meaning, but finally he saw that it was a smouldering camp-fire, while around it were stretched five Indians—although at the moment he could not be positive as to their number—their blankets over them and they seemingly sound asleep.
He concluded that the best thing he could do was to leave that immediate neighborhood as speedily as possible. He looked hurriedly around for the best line of retreat. It was difficult to decide, and he was still debating with himself when, as he glanced at the terrifying forms, he fancied, or really saw, one of them move. Without further reflection he darted a rod or two backward and shrunk in behind a breach in the rocks.
This was no hiding-place in case the Indians came along this path. He could not conceal his body, as it was merely a niche such as would have been made had this portion of the rocky wall been set back about a foot from the rest. If the savages left the ravine by another direction there was no cause for fear, but if they came this way he had good reason to tremble.
He had scarcely ensconced himself in this place of refuge when from the woods and rocks above him came the clear, echoing whistle of Howard Lawrence. It startled him as if it were the whoop of this Indians so close at hand. Of course he dare not reply to it, for it could only precipitate his capture.
But he trembled more for the safety of his friends than himself. They were advancing hurriedly in their search, without one suspicion of the enemies so near them. Had he dared, to make a noise it would have have been one of warning for Tim and Howard to hasten away ere it was too late; but even that small comfort was denied him.
He peered cautiously out and saw that the Indians were awake, but curiously enough appeared to pay no heed to the whistling, which to the boy were uttered twenty times as often and as loud as there was any need. One of the savages was stirring the fire with a stick, while the others were looking stupidly on.
Drawing back his head, Elwood looked up among the rocks in the direction of the signals for some sign of his friends. He was startled into a suppressed exclamation by the sight of Tim O’Rooney’s hat and face passing along the path above him; but before he could catch his eye it was gone and he saw it no more.
The whistling sound now gradually retreated until it sounded quite far away, and Elwood began to feel more at ease, although not entirely so. He wondered greatly that the suspicions of the Indians were not excited, and that they did not hasten away at once to destroy his friends.
The report of Tim O’Rooney’s gun that slew the antelope sounded fearfully near, and sent a shiver of terror through the youngster crouching in his hiding-place. At the same time, as he looked stealthily out, he saw that it had attracted the attention of the Indians. All five were standing on their feet, with their loose blankets hung over their shoulders, and gesticulating with their arms. The sound of their voices was plainly heard where he stood, and a thrill of hope ran through him as he imagined that he recognised in one of them a resemblance to that of Shasta, the Pah Utah.
At this point the boy observed the storm gathering overhead—the sullen booming of thunder, the black clouds sweeping tumultuously across the sky, the vivid spears of lightning darting in and out among them. A cool wind whistled through the gorge overhead, and dust and leaves came whirling in the air and settled all around him.
The boy looked above, and saw that when the storm did burst it was sure to spend its full fury upon his head. Not the least particle of shelter covered him, and he had to expect a full drenching; but this he was willing to bear, if it would only tend to keep the attention of the Indians diverted. It seemed to him very probable, as he stood between them and his own friends, that in following up the suspicious report of the rifle they would pass directly by him, in which case he had about one chance out of a thousand of remaining unseen by them.
Elwood did not dare to look out, so fearful was he of being seen. He believed that the heads of the savages were turned toward him, in which case the risk was too great. He therefore, unheedful of the large drops that were beginning to patter around him, stood and listened.
Hark! He hears their tread! His heart throbs faster than ever, as he knows they are coming toward him! Closer and closer he shrinks to the rock, as if to bury himself in its flinty surface.
All at once, an Indian, too tall and muscular to be Shasta, steps to view and passes beyond him without turning his head; the second is about the right height, but the one furtive glance stole at him shows that he is a stranger; so as regards the third; the fourth is too short, he passes on in the procession. The fifth and last Elwood at first believed to be Shasta, but a second look showed him his mistake. Had he held any doubts they were removed by the Indian abruptly pausing, turning his face full toward him, and uttering the “hoogh!” of surprise, as he saw the boy cowering against the rocks.
CHAPTER XLIV
A Old Acquaintance
The instant the hindmost Indian uttered his exclamation of surprise, the others paused, and thus, before Elwood Brandon fully realized his danger, he found himself confronted by the whole force. Resistance or flight was not to be thought of, so he merely stood still and tremblingly a
waited their will regarding him.
They were plainly surprised at finding a boy pressing against the rooks with an appearance of the greatest terror, and they gazed at him a moment as if uncertain what to do about it. However, they didn’t seem to be particularly savage or blood-thirsty, nor frightened, as they kept their guns in their hands and their knives in their belts.
He who stood nearest to Elwood reached out his brawny arm, grasped him firmly and drew him out from his hiding-place. All then scrutinized him as if to make sure whether he was some wild animal or human being. Satisfied on this point, the boy was then shoved forward so as to be between the savages, and as they stepped off he was motioned to do the same. Elwood understood that he was a prisoner, and he philosophically submitted to his fate.
As yet they had not disturbed his weapons; but he had gone a short distance only when the Indian directly behind him placed his hand upon the muzzle of the gun which was protruding over the youngster’s shoulder and began drawing it. The latter disliked very much to part with the rifle, and held it as tightly as possible; but as the savage only drew it the more powerfully, he finally let go and it instantly went from his possession.
Elwood could not forbear looking around at the one who had thus deprived him of his property. As he gazed into his face he was at a loss to understand the expression. The Indian fixed his black eyes upon him, but his lips were closed and not a feature moved or twitched. The boy could not withstand the fierceness of those orbs and was glad to turn his head again.
They walked quite rapidly up the path, making a turn that gave them a very steep ascent. The thunder was booming louder than ever, and the rain by this time was falling furiously. The party hurried forward until they reached the camp which Tim O’Rooney and Howard had so recently deserted. Here Elwood took the liberty of protecting himself by backing against the overhanging rock. This was precisely the position which he occupied when Howard Lawrence gazed over and missed seeing him by such a narrow chance.
The Edward S. Ellis Megapack Page 94
