THE FIERY TRIAL.
"See here, old chap," said Hawbury, "I'm going to make a clean breast
of it."
"Of what?"
"Of my affair."
"That's right," said Dacres, dolefully. "I should like of all things
to hear it."
"You see I wouldn't tell you, only you yourself turn out to be in a
similar situation, and so what I have to say may prove of use to you.
At any rate, you may give me some useful suggestion.
"Very well, then," continued Hawbury--"to begin. You may remember that
I told you when we met here where I had been passing the time since I
saw you last."
Dacres nodded assent.
"Well, about two years ago I was in Canada. I went there for sport,
and plunged at once into the wilderness. And let me tell you it's a
very pretty country for hunting. Lots of game--fish, flesh, and
fowl--from the cariboo down to the smallest trout that you would care
to hook. Glorious country; magnificent forests waiting for the
lumberman; air that acts on you like wine, or even better; rivers and
lakes in all directions; no end of sport and all that sort of thing,
you know. Have you ever been in Canada?"
"Only traveled through."
"Well, the next time you feel inclined for high art sport we'll go
together, and have no end of fun--that is, if you're not married and
done for, which, of course, you will be. No matter. I was saying that
I was in a fine country. I spent a couple of months there with two or
three Indians, and at length started for Ottawa on my way home. The
Indians put me on the right path, after which I dismissed them, and
set out alone with my gun and fishing-rod.
"The first day was all very well, and I slept well enough the first
night; but on the morning of the second day I found the air full of
smoke. However, I did not give much thought to that, for there had
been a smoky look about the sky for a week, and the woods are always
burning there, I believe, in one place or another. I kept on, and shot
enough for food, and thus the second day passed. That evening the air
was quite suffocating, and it was as hot as an oven. I struggled
through the night, I don't know how; and then on the third day made
another start. This third day was abominable. The atmosphere was
beastly hot; the sky was a dull yellow, and the birds seemed to have
all disappeared. As I went on it grew worse, but I found it was not
because the fires were in front of me. On the contrary, they were
behind me, and were driving on so that they were gradually approaching
nearer. I could do my thirty miles a day even in that rough country,
but the fires could do more. At last I came into a track that was a
little wider than the first one. As I went on I met cattle which
appeared stupefied. Showers of dust were in the air; the atmosphere
was worse than ever, and I never had such difficulty in my life in
walking along. I had to throw away my rifle and fishing-rod, and was
just thinking of pitching my clothes after them, when suddenly I
turned a bend in the path, and met a young girl full in the face.
"By Jove! I swear I never was so astounded in my life. I hurried up to
her, and just began to ask where I was, when she interrupted me with a
question of the same kind. By-the-way, I forgot to say that she was on
horseback. The poor devil of a horse seemed to have had a deuced hard
time of it too, for he was trembling from head to foot, though whether
that arose from fatigue or fright I don't know. Perhaps it was both.
"Well, the girl was evidently very much alarmed. She was awfully pale;
she was a monstrous pretty girl too--the prettiest by all odds I ever
saw, and that's saying a good deal. By Jove! Well, it turned out that
she had been stopping in the back country for a month, at a house
somewhere up the river, with her father. Her father had gone down to
Ottawa a week before, and was expected back on this day. She had come
out to meet him, and had lost her way. She had been out for hours, and
was completely bewildered. She was also frightened at the fires, which
now seemed to be all around us. This she told me in a few words, and
asked if I knew where the river was.
"Of course I knew no more than she did, and it needed only a few words
from me to show her that I was as much in the dark as she was. I began
to question her, however, as to this river, for it struck me that in
the present state of affairs a river would not be a bad thing to have
near one. In answer to my question she said that she had come upon
this road from the woods on the left, and therefore it was evident
that the river lay in that direction.
"I assured her that I would do whatever lay in my power; and with that
I walked on in the direction in which I had been going, while she rode
by my side. Some further questions as to the situation of the house
where she had been staying showed me that it was on the banks of the
river about fifty miles above Ottawa. By my own calculations I was
about that distance away. It seemed to me, then, that she had got lost
in the woods, and had wandered thus over some trail to the path where
she had met me. Every thing served to show me that the river lay to
the left, and so I resolved to turn in at the first path which I
reached.
"At length, after about two miles, we came to a path which went into
the woods. My companion was sure that this was the very one by which
she had come out, and this confirmed the impression which the sight of
it had given me. I thought it certainly must lead toward the river. So
we turned into this path. I went first, and she followed, and so we
went for about a couple of miles further.
"All this time the heat had been getting worse and worse. The air was
more smoky than ever; my mouth was parched and dry. I breathed with
difficulty, and could scarcely drag one leg after another. The lady
was almost as much exhausted as I was, and suffered acutely, as I
could easily see, though she uttered not a word of complaint. Her
horse also suffered terribly, and did not seem able to bear her weight
much longer. The poor brute trembled and staggered, and once or twice
stopped, so that it was difficult to start him again. The road had
gone in a winding way, but was not so crooked as I expected. I
afterward found that she had gone by other paths until she had found
herself in thick woods, and then on trying to retrace her way she had
strayed into this path. If she had turned to the left on first
reaching it, instead of to the right, the fate of each of us would
have been different. Our meeting was no doubt the salvation of both.
"There was a wooded eminence in front, which we had been steadily
approaching for some time. At last we reached the top, and here a
scene burst upon us which was rather startling. The hill was high
enough to command an extensive view, and the first thing that we saw
was a vast extent of woods and water and smoke. By-and-by we were able
to distinguish each. The water was the river, which could be seen for
miles. Up the river toward the left the smoke arose in great volumes,
covering every thing; while in front of us, and immediately between us
and the river, there was a line of smoke which showed that the fires
had penetrated there and had intercepted us.
"We stood still in bewilderment. I looked all around. To go back was
as bad as to go forward, for there, also, a line of smoke arose which
showed the progress of the flames. To the right there was less smoke;
but in that direction there was only a wilderness, through which we
could not hope to pass for any distance. The only hope was the river.
If we could traverse the flames in that direction, so as to reach the
water, we would be safe. In a few words I communicated my decision to
my companion. She said nothing, but bowed her head in acquiescence.
"Without delaying any longer we resumed our walk. After about a mile
we found ourselves compelled once more to halt. The view here was
worse than ever. The path was now as wide as an ordinary road, and
grew wider still as it went on. It was evidently used to haul logs
down to the river, and as it approached the bank it grew steadily
wider; but between us and the river the woods were all burning. The
first rush of the fire was over, and now we looked forward and saw a
vast array of columns--the trunks of burned trees--some blackened and
charred, others glowing red. The ground below was also glowing red,
with blackened spaces here and there.
"Still the burned tract was but a strip, and there lay our hope. The
fire, by some strange means, had passed on a track not wider than a
hundred yards, and this was what had to be traversed by us. The
question was, whether we could pass through that or not. The same
question came to both of us, and neither of us said a word. But before
I could ask the lady about it, her horse became frightened at the
flames. I advised her to dismount, for I knew that the poor brute
could never be forced through those fires. She did so, and the horse,
with a horrible snort, turned and galloped wildly away.
"I now looked around once more, and saw that there was no escape
except in front. The flames were encircling us, and a vast cloud of
smoke surrounded us every where, rising far up and rolling overhead.
Cinders fell in immense showers, and the fine ashes, with which the
air was filled, choked us and got into our eyes.
"'There is only one chance,' said I; 'and that is to make a dash for
the river. Can you do it?'
"'I'll try,' she said.
"'We'll have to go through the fires.'
"She nodded.
"'Well, then,' I said, 'do as I say. Take off your sacque and wrap it
around your head and shoulders.'
"She took off her sacque at this. It was a loose robe of merino or
alpaca, or something of that sort, and very well suited for what I
wanted. I wrapped it round her so as to protect her face, head, and
shoulders; and taking off my coat I did the same.
"'Now,' said I, 'hold your breath as well as you can. You may keep
your eyes shut. Give me your hand--I'll lead you.'
"Taking her hand I led her forward at a rapid pace. Once she fell, but
she quickly recovered herself, and soon we reached the edge of the
flames.
"I tell you what it is, my boy, the heat was terrific, and the sight
was more so. The river was not more than a hundred yards away, but
between us and it there lay what seemed as bad as the burning fiery
furnace of Messrs. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. If I were now
standing there, I don't think I could face it. But then I was with the
girl; I had to save her. Fire was behind us, racing after us; water
lay in front. Once there and we were safe. It was not a time to dawdle
or hesitate, I can assure you.
"'Now,' said I, 'run for your life!'
"Grasping her hand more firmly, I started off with her at the full
run. The place was terrible, and grew worse at every step. The road
here was about fifty feet wide. On each side was the burning forest,
with a row of burned trees like fiery columns, and the moss and
underbrush still glowing beneath. To pass through that was a thing
that it don't do to look back upon. The air was intolerable. I wrapped
my coat tighter over my head; my arms were thus exposed, and I felt
the heat on my hands. But that was nothing to the torments that I
endured from trying to breathe. Besides this, the enormous effort of
keeping up a run made breathing all the more difficult. A feeling of
despair came over me. Already we had gone half the distance, but at
that moment the space seemed lengthened out interminably, and I looked
in horror at the rest of the way, with a feeling of the utter
impossibility of traversing it.
[Illustration: THE FIERY TRIAL.]
"Suddenly the lady fell headlong. I stopped and raised her up. My coat
fell off; I felt the fiery air all round my face and head. I called
and screamed to the lady as I tried to raise her up; but she said
nothing. She was as lifeless as a stone.
"Well, my boy, I thought it was all up with me; but I, at least, could
stand, though I did not think that I could take another breath. As for
the lady, there was no help for it; so I grasped her with all my
strength, still keeping her head covered as well as I could, and slung
her over my shoulders. Then away I ran. I don't remember much after
that. I must have lost my senses then, and, what is more, I must have
accomplished the rest of the journey in that semi-unconscious state.
"What I do remember is this--a wild plunge into the water; and the
delicious coolness that I felt all around restored me, and I at once
comprehended all. The lady was by my side; the shock and the cool
water had restored her also. She was standing up to her shoulders just
where she had fallen, and was panting and sobbing. I spoke a few words
of good cheer, and then looked around for some place of refuge. Just
where we stood there was nothing but fire and desolation, and it was
necessary to go further away. Well, some distance out, about half-way
across the river, I saw a little island, with rocky sides, and trees
on the top. It looked safe and cool and inviting. I determined to try
to get there. Some deals were in the water by the bank, which had
probably floated down from some saw-mill. I took half a dozen of
these, flung two or three more on top of them, and then told the lady
my plan. It was to float out to the island by means of this raft. I
offered to put her on it and let her float; but she refused,
preferring to be in the water.
"The river was pretty wide here, and the water was shallow, so that we
were able to wade for a long distance, pushing the raft before us. At
length it became deep, and then the lady held on while I floated and
tried to direct the raft toward the island. I had managed while wading
to guide the raft up the stream, so that when we got into deep water
the current carried us toward the island. At length we reached it
without much difficulty, and then, utterly worn out, I fell down on
the grass, and either fainted away or fell asleep.
"When I revived I had several very queer sensations. The first thing
that I noticed was that I hadn't any whiskers."
"What! no whiskers?"
"No--all gone; and my eyebrows and mustache, and every wisp of hair
from my head."
"See here, old fellow, do you mean to say that you've only taken one
year to grow those infernally long whiskers that you have now?"
"It's a fact, my boy!"
"I wouldn't have believed it; but some fellows can do such
extraordinary things. But drive on."
"Well, the next thing I noticed was that it was as smoky as ever. Then
I jumped up and looked around. I felt quite dry, though it seemed as
if I had just come from the river. As I jumped up and turned I saw my
friend. She looked much better than she had. Her clothes also were
quite dry. She greeted me with a mournful smile, and rose up from the
trunk of a tree where she had been sitting, and made inquiries after
my health with the most earnest and tender sympathy.
"I told her I was all right, laughed about my hair, and inquired very
anxiously how she was. She assured me that she was as well as ever.
Some conversation followed; and then, to my amazement, I found that I
had slept for an immense time, or had been unconscious, whichever it
was, and that the adventure had taken place on the preceding day. It
was now about the middle of the next day. You may imagine how
confounded I was at that.
[Illustration:
"ALL GONE; MY EYEBROWS, AND MUSTACHE, AND EVERY WISP OF
HAIR FROM MY HEAD."]
"The air was still abominably close and smoky; so I looked about the
island, and found a huge crevice in the rocks, which was almost a
cave. It was close by the water, and was far cooler than outside. In
fact, it was rather comfortable than otherwise. Here we took refuge,
and talked over our situation. As far as we could see, the whole
country was burned up. A vast cloud of smoke hung over all. One
comfort was that the glow had ceased on the river-bank, and only a
blackened forest now remained, with giant trees arising, all blasted.
We found that our stay would be a protracted one.
"The first thing that I thought of was food. Fortunately I had my
hooks and lines; so I cut a pole, and fastening my line to it, I
succeeded in catching a few fish.
"We lived there for two days on fish in that manner. The lady was sad
and anxious. I tried to cheer her up. Her chief trouble was the fear
that her father was lost. In the course of our conversations I found
out that her name was Ethel Orne."
"Ethel Orne?"
"Yes."
"Don't think I ever heard the name before. Orne? No, I'm sure I
haven't. It isn't Horn?"
"No; Orne--O R N E. Oh, there's no trouble about that.
"Well, I rather enjoyed this island life, but she was awfully
melancholy; so I hit upon a plan for getting away. I went to the shore
and collected a lot of the deals that I mentioned, and made a very
decent sort of raft. I found a pole to guide it with, cut a lot of
brush for Ethel, and then we started, and floated down the river. We
didn't have any accidents. The only bother was that she was too
confoundedly anxious about me, and wouldn't let me work. We went
ashore every evening. We caught fish enough to eat. We were afloat
three days, and, naturally enough, became very well acquainted."
Hawbury stopped, and sighed.
"I tell you what it is, Dacres," said he, "there never lived a nobler,
more generous, and at the same time a braver soul than Ethel Orne. She
never said a word about gratitude and all that, but there was a
certain quiet look of devotion about her that gives me a deuced queer
feeling now when I think of it all."
"And I dare say--But no matter."
"What?"
"Well, I was only going to remark that, under the circumstances, there
might have been a good deal of quiet devotion about you."
Hawbury made no reply, but sat silent for a time.
"Well, go on, man; don't keep me in suspense."
"Let me see--where was I? Oh! floating on the raft. Well, we floated
that way, as I said, for three days, and at the end of that time we
reached a settlement. Here we found a steamer, and went on further,
and finally reached Ottawa. Here she went to the house of a friend. I
called on her as soon as possible, and found her in fearful anxiety.
She had learned that her father had gone up with a Mr. Willoughby, and
neither had been heard from.
"Startled at this intelligence, I instituted a search myself. I could
not find out any thing, but only that there was good reason to believe
that both of the unhappy gentlemen had perished. On returning to the
house to call on Ethel, about a week after, I found that she had
received full confirmation of this dreadful intelligence, and had gone
to Montreal. It seems that Willoughby's wife was a relative of
Ethel's, and she had gone to stay with her. I longed to see her, but
of course I could not intrude upon her in her grief; and so I wrote to
her, expressing all the condolence I could. I told her that I was
going to Europe, but would return in the following year. I couldn't
say any more than that, you know. It wasn't a time for sentiment, of
course.
"Well, I received a short note in reply. She said she would look
forward to seeing me again with pleasure, and all that; and that she
could never forget the days we had spent together.
"So off I went, and in the following year I returned. But on reaching
Montreal, what was my disgust, on calling at Mrs. Willoughby's, to
find that she had given up her house, sold her furniture, and left the
city. No one knew any thing about her, and they said that she had only
come to the city a few months before her bereavement, and after that
had never made any acquaintances. Some said she had gone to the United
States; others thought she had gone to Quebec; others to England; but
no one knew any thing more."