LOST IN THE WOODS.
When Marco awoke, he at first supposed that he had been asleep about an
hour, and he was surprised to see how much the fire had burned down in
that time. He crept towards it, and began to put the brands together,
when suddenly he recollected the potatoes. So he began to feel for them
in the ashes, by means of a long stick, which they had obtained for a
poker. The potatoes were all burnt to a cinder.
Marco then awoke Forester, saying,
"Cousin Forester! cousin Forester! wake up. The fire has gone out, and
our potatoes are all burnt up."
Forester awoke, and, after looking at the fire, and at the charred and
blackened remains of the potatoes a moment, he took out his watch, and
said,
"Why, Marco, it is four o'clock. It is almost morning."
"Is it?" said Marco. "Then we have not got much more time to sleep. Let
us build up a good fire, and then lie down again."
"Yes," replied Forester. "We must keep up a good fire, or we shall take
cold, it is such a cool night. It looks as if it were going to rain."
"What shall we do in that case?" asked Marco.
"I don't know," replied Forester. "It would be rather a hard case for
us."
"We could stay here, I suppose," said Marco. "I don't think the rain
would come through our roof."
"No," said Forester, "not much. But then we have nothing to eat."
"Could not we get anything to eat about here?" asked Marco.
"Not very well," replied Forester. "We have got money enough, but this
is a case where money does not seem to be of any use."
"How do the men who come here in the winter to cut down the trees, get
anything to eat?" asked Marco.
"O, they bring it all with them," said Forester. "The roads are better,
in the winter, for sleds and sleighs, than they are now for wheels; for
then all the stumps and roughnesses are covered up with the snow. So,
wherever there is a camp, there is a road leading to it, and sleigh
loads of provisions are brought up for the men, from time to time, all
the winter."
"I wish one would come now," said Marco, "to us."
"I wish so too," said Forester. "But it is of no use to wish, and so we
may as well lie down and go to sleep again."
"But, Forester," said Marco, "I don't see what we are going to do if it
rains."
"Nor do I," said Forester. "But this is not the time for forming a plan.
This is the time for going to sleep. I make it a rule, in all
perplexities and troubles, when there is nothing to be done immediately
in order to get out of them, to lie down and go to sleep."
Marco said no more, and Forester was soon asleep again. Marco himself
felt so much concern about his situation that he could not go to sleep
for some time. He lay watching the flames, which were creeping slowly
around the logs which he and Forester had put upon the fire; for, while
they had been holding the conversation above described, they had been
employed in replenishing the fire.
Marco heard a sound, which, at first, he thought was a bear. He was on
the point of awakening Forester, but, after listening a little longer,
he concluded that it was only the roaring of the wind upon the tops of
the trees. After lifting his head from his pillow of hemlock branches
for a moment, until he satisfied himself that it was no wild beast, he
lay down again and went to sleep.
He was awakened again, about three hours afterwards, by a long rumbling
clap of thunder.
"What is that?" said Forester. "Thunder?"
"I believe it is," said Marco.
"And it rains, I believe," said Forester.
Marco raised his head, and looked out through the open part of the hut.
He saw the drops of rain descending, and he heard the murmuring sound
which the rain makes when falling upon the leaves in a forest. He saw,
too, that everything was wet in the opening about the hut, although it
seemed dry in the forest beyond, where the drops of rain had been
intercepted by the leaves of the trees.
"We must get our wood under cover," said Marco, "or it will get wet and
won't burn, and then our fire will go out."
"True," said Forester. "There is room for some of it in this hut. Let us
get up and put it in."
So Marco and Forester arose, and, as they were already dressed, they
were soon at work, putting the logs into the hut. Marco then proposed
that they should go into the forest, where it did not rain, and get some
more wood. But Forester said he thought that would be of no service, as
they had no provisions, and, of course, could not stay there. "We _must_
go," said he, "at any rate, whether it rains or not; for it is better to
get wet than to starve."
"We have got _something_ left in our bag," said Marco.
"Yes," replied Forester, "just enough for breakfast."
"How I wish I had a bushel of potatoes," said Marco. "Then we could
stay here a week. Only we should want a little salt too."
Forester opened the bag and took out the provisions which were left.
They found about enough for a breakfast for them, but they concluded to
eat but half of their supply, as Forester thought it was best that they
should put themselves upon short allowance.
"You see, it is _possible_," said Forester, "that we may be kept here in
the woods a day or two; so we must use our provisions economically."
After breakfast, they went into the forest a little way, where they
found that they were protected from the rain by the trees. This proved,
as Forester said, that it had not been raining very long; and he
thought, from appearances, that it would soon clear up.
At a little distance from their encampment, they found another hut,
which was in better condition than either of those which they had seen
before. It was covered with strips of birch bark, which made a very good
roof. Some of these strips, or rather sheets, for they were quite large,
had fallen down, and Marco ran and got one of them, exclaiming,
"What a monstrous sheet of birch bark!"
This sheet, which Marco lifted up from the ground where it was lying,
was about four feet long and two feet wide. Marco wondered that so large
a sheet could be got from any tree.
"What a monstrous tree it must have been!" said he to Forester.
"No," said Forester, "not very large. This sheet is about four feet
long, which would make the tree only about sixteen inches in diameter."
"How do you prove that?" asked Marco.
"Why, the distance through a tree is about one third the distance round
it," replied Forester. "Now, this bark grew around the tree, and it is
about four feet long. Four feet is forty-eight inches, and one-third of
forty-eight is sixteen. Now, sixteen inches in diameter would not be a
very large tree."
"I mean to try this bark on some of these trees," said Marco, "to see
how big a tree it will fit."
So Marco took up the sheet of bark. It was white and clean, especially
on the outside, having been blanched by the summer rains. Marco, in
order to carry the sheet more easily, put it upon his shoulders, drawing
it up around his neck like a shawl.
"Cousin Forester," said he, "see my shawl. It would do for an umbrella,
if I only had a handle."
So saying, Marco drew the sheet of bark up higher, holding it in such a
manner that it covered his cap, rising into a point above his head. He
held it in such a manner as to leave a little crevice open in front, to
peep through, in order that he might see where he was going.
"See, Forester," said he,--"see my umbrella."
Forester looked at Marco's contrivance, and he immediately thought that
such a sheet would be an important protection to the head and neck, in
case they had to walk in the rain. He accordingly went to the hut and
selected a sheet for himself, saying,
"This is not a bad plan. The most important point is to protect the head
and neck, and this will do it pretty well. We can roll the sheets up and
carry them under our arms, unless it rains fast, and then we can wrap
them around us."
[Illustration]
Having thus found a rude substitute for an umbrella, Forester thought
that it would be best for them to set out on their journey. They
accordingly returned to their encampment, and made preparations for
resuming their march. As it was raining but very little at that time,
they rolled up their umbrellas and carried them under their arms. Marco
took the hatchet, and Forester the bag of provisions. Marco wanted to
set fire to the hut which had sheltered them for the night. He wanted
Forester to hear what a loud crackling the green hemlock branches, which
they had put upon the roof, would make, when the flames from the wood
below should envelop them.
But Forester would not consent to this. He said that some accident might
possibly happen, by which they should be obliged to come back and spend
another night there, though he hoped such a measure would not be
necessary.
"I hope so, too," said Marco.
"We may lose our way again," said Forester.
"But then," said Marco, "we shall not come back to this place."
"Why, I have heard," said Forester, "of people losing their way in the
woods, and, after a great deal of wandering, getting back to the place
they started from. So that, _possibly_, we may wander about all day, and
get back here at night."
"I hope not, I'm sure," said Marco. "I am tired of this old hovel."
"Why, the lumber-men stay in these places all winter," said Forester.
"Yes," replied Marco, "but then they know that they can get out whenever
they please. We don't know that we can ever get out."
"That is true," said Forester, "and it makes a great difference."
"Don't you feel concerned about our finding our way out?" asked Marco.
"No," said Forester. "I make it a rule never to be _concerned_ about
anything."
"Oh, Forester!" said Marco,--"I think we ought to be concerned when we
get lost in the woods."
"No," replied Forester. "We ought to do the best we can to get out, but
not to be concerned. To be concerned is to be anxious and unhappy. This
does no good. Being concerned would never help us find our way out of
the woods."
Thus talking, the two unfortunate travellers walked on, with their rolls
under their arms. It was well that they took them, for, after they had
been walking about half an hour, the sky grew dark, and, a short time
afterwards, the rain began to come down in torrents. Forester and Marco
unrolled their umbrellas, and wrapped them about their shoulders and
heads; and, at the same time, they fled for shelter under an enormous
pine tree, which grew in such a spot that its branches extended in every
direction, and formed a canopy above them, which kept off a great deal
of the rain. When the rain abated a little, they walked on.
Their plan was to get back to the place where they had left the main
road the day before. But they were somewhat perplexed to find it. In
fact, they met with several roads which branched off from the one in
which they were walking. These were old tracks, made by the lumber-men,
and were partly grown up to bushes. They wandered about among these
paths for some time, and at last, to their great joy, they came out
into a good beaten road, which Forester immediately thought was the one
which they had been travelling in the day before. Notwithstanding
Forester's philosophical resolution, never to be _concerned_, he could
not help confessing that he felt somewhat relieved to find the right
road again; and, as the sun was just breaking through the clouds at this
time, they both thought that their prospects were brightening
considerably.