A HARD DAY'S MARCH
The dawn came with rosy promise of a fair day, a frost lying white over
the grass-land, sufficient nip in the air to stir the blood. Before
the others were aroused I examined the boat, which rested high in the
mud where we had heaved it the evening previous. The cruel rent in the
solid planking was such as to afford little hope of our ever being able
to repair it. How the accident occurred I did not rightly comprehend,
but we had been cast ashore on the western bank of that swift
maelstrom. In the light of dawn, I gazed forth upon the whirlpool
extending between the rock against which we had struck and the bank
where I stood, in speechless wonder at the miracle of our rescue.
Standing there in silence broken only by the wild tumult of the waters,
I thought of Eloise tossed helpless in their merciless grip, and bowed
my head humbly above the shattered boat, offering up a heartfelt
petition. I was not in those days a man of prayer, yet the germ of my
father's robust faith was ever in my blood, and love teaches many a
good lesson. Certainly I felt better within my own heart for that
instant of communion under the paling stars.
My head was yet bowed over the gunwale when the heavy footsteps of the
Puritan sounded close at hand. I could not fail to remark a softness
in his deep voice as he spoke, resting one hand upon my shoulder.
"Thou knowest not, friend Benteen, how it gladdens my old heart to find
thee before the throne of grace. I fear thou art not greatly
accustomed to look up unto God in time of trouble, yet doing so can
never weaken thy arm for the moment of trial. Acknowledge the Lord of
Hosts, nor dream thou wilt ever prove less of a man because thy heart
responds to His many mercies."
"You speak truly," I returned soberly, feeling a new respect for him in
that hour. "There is no better way in which to start the day; and,
unless my eyes deceive me, this bids fair to prove a day of sore trial.
Have you looked to the damage done the boat?"
"Nay," he returned earnestly, bending low to examine the rent. "I
slept like a man in drink, and even now am scarcely well awakened. 'T
is, indeed, a serious break, friend; one, I fear, which will prove
beyond our remedying."
"Have you skill with tools?"
"It is one of my gifts; yet of what use in the wilderness where tools
are not to be found? However, I will see what may be done, after we
break our fast--there is little accomplished working on an empty
stomach."
It was a morning of sorrowful labor; from the beginning a perfectly
hopeless one. The planking had been so badly crushed that a portion
was actually ground into powder, leaving a great gaping hole. To patch
this we possessed no tool to shape the wood properly, or, indeed, any
wood to shape, except the seats of the oarsmen. Nor did we possess
nails. More than one expedient was resorted to with bits of canvas,
wooden pegs, or whatsoever else we could lay hands upon, but our
efforts resulted each time in sickening failure. At last, long before
the sun had attained the zenith, the old preacher looked up,
disappointment written on every line of his rough face, to say grimly:
"We waste toil, friends; the boat floats no more for all our labors.
Nor do I deem it the will of the Lord we longer continue to wear
ourselves out in vain effort to undo His work."
He wiped the beads of perspiration from his low forehead, pushing his
hand through his matted hair.
"Were it not for the woman," he added more cheerfully, "the accident
would not be so bad either. I am cramped by long boat service, and
would welcome a stiff tramp to loosen out the joints of my legs."
I glanced across uneasily at Madame, for we were all seated on the
grass in the sunshine, but could perceive nothing except encouragement
in the clear depths of her brave eyes.
"Fear nothing on my account," she said quietly, instantly reading my
thoughts as if my face were an open book. "I am strong, and shall not
greatly mind the walking."
"At least you are strong of heart," I returned gravely. "But such a
trip as now lies before us will test your power of endurance greatly.
Yet what must be done is best done quickly, and there are unpleasant
memories clustering about this spot, making me anxious to leave it
before another night. Let each one speak frankly his thought as to our
future course, so we may choose the route aright. De Noyan, you are a
soldier, accustomed to places of difficulty and peril. What would you
suggest?"
He was lying flat upon his back, hands clasped beneath his head, puffs
of white smoke from his pipe curling lazily up into the blue sky; nor
did he remove the stem from between his lips as he made easy answer.
"Faith, man, my service on campaign has ever been with the horse; nor
am I fond of using my own limbs for travelling. It would be far
easier, I think, to knock up the old boat here; then, with whatsoever
else we might find in this God-forsaken wilderness, construct some sort
of raft to upbear our company, and so drift down with the stream.
_Parbleu_! it would be a relief from those cursed oars. If the load be
too heavy, the preacher can be left behind; 't would be small loss."
"Your plan sounds bravely in words, Chevalier, but were we to attempt
it, we should soon find ourselves in more serious stress than now,--ay!
before we had covered the first day's journey. My Calvinistic friend,
what advice have you for our guidance?"
The sectary's eyes were fastened upon the ragged line of hills at our
back, and for the moment he made no response, his seamed face grave
with thought.
"How far, Master Benteen," he queried finally, "do you make it from
here to the mouth of this river?"
"Not much short of sixty leagues," I answered, after a bit of thinking.
"The stream bends and twists so it is difficult to judge the true
distance."
"It was a grievous journey," he admitted with a groan, "one I care not
to travel again, unless it be revealed plainly to me as the will of the
Lord. I name the distance full seventy leagues. What has been the
main direction of our course?"
"To north of west."
"Ay! Are we, think you, thirty leagues to northward of where we left
the Spaniards?"
"I should say yes, maybe ten leagues more."
"I doubt the extra ten, but even at thirty it would be foolishness to
retrace all that hard-won distance merely for the sake of keeping in
sight of this muddy stream, the very water of which is unfit for
Christian stomach, and of no value otherwise. 'Tis my vote we strike
directly east and north, following as straight a trail as possible
until we find the great river. It should be as easy travelling as
along this bank, and will bring us out above the Spanish lines of
guard."
I know not how long I sat there gazing silently into his impassive
leathern face, turning over within my own mind the argument of his
words. He was neither woodsman nor mountaineer, yet possessed some
judgment. Thus considering, I saw but one possible objection to his
plan--lack of water or of game along the unknown route to be traversed.
But serious scarcity of either was hardly to be expected at this season
among the mountains, while the weary leagues of southing thus saved
would make no small difference in the length and time of our journey.
"It appears to me our best hope," I admitted candidly. "It will
involve clambering over rocks, yet yonder range does not appear high,
nor of a width to keep us long in its shadow; besides, the lower
reaches of this river are marshy leagues upon leagues, and to my mind
walking will be easier if we take higher ground. It is all guesswork
at the best. We know how impassable the trail will be below, and, even
if we retrace our steps down the river, we shall have to make a wide
detour to cross this mad stream. But wait; we have heard no word from
Madame de Noyan."
She also was looking upon those cool, blue hills, apparently close at
hand, but turned instantly at my addressing her, making quick and
confident answer.
"My word is only this, Geoffrey Benteen: you are a woodsman, better
capable of such decision than any woman whose life has been lived
within the town. I go cheerfully wheresoever your choice lies."
It has ever been a source of strength to me to be thoroughly trusted by
some other, and I instantly arose to my feet, feeling a new man under
the inspiration of these heartsome words.
"Then that matter is decided," I announced, a ring of confidence in my
voice. "We will break bread once more, and then commence our journey."
"_Sacre_!" ejaculated the Captain, yet lolling upon his back, "if it be
like that same biscuit I had an hour since, breaking it will prove no
small matter."
The blazing sun stood an hour low in the west when we divided our small
stock of necessaries so as to transport them, and, with merely a last
regretful glance at the damaged boat which had been our home so long,
turned our faces hopefully toward those northern hills, commencing a
journey destined to prove for more than one a trip unto death. God's
way is best, and there is a noble purpose in it all; for had we that
day been enabled to view the future, not a single step would we have
taken, nor should I have had in my memory a tale worthy of being
written down.
I led the little company, bearing rifle in hand, keeping vigilant
outlook for game; De Noyan followed, where he might easily afford aid
to his wife if she required the strength of his arm along the rough
path; while the old Puritan, grumbling ever to himself, lumbered along
well in the rear, although we were careful to keep within speaking
distance of each other. We traversed a gently rising slope of grass
land, with numerous rocks scattered over its surface, keeping as close
as possible along the bank of the brawling stream, that we might make
use of its narrow valley through the rocky bluffs, which threatened to
bar our passage. These were no great distance away, so a steady
gait--I set the pace slow not to distress Madame, who was cramped from
long sitting within the boat--brought us in an hour to where our
narrowing path was overhung and darkened by the closing in of gloomy
mountain heights upon either side. It had an awesome look, like the
yawning mouth of a cave, opening to intense darkness and mysterious
danger. I saw a look almost of terror in Madame's eyes as she gazed,
yet her lips uttered no protest, and I flung aside a desire to shrink
back, with a muttered curse at my own folly. Saint Andrew! it is odd
how superstition grips the best of us. Those rock walls, binding us
within their scant confines as in a prison, were not particularly
precipitous or high, yet our way was sufficiently perilous, leading
along a contracted defile, the merest chasm, indeed, steep cliffs
rising sheer on either side, merely the raging stream and a ribbonlike
path between. The slight expanse of sky above was blue and clear, but
it was sombre and gloomy enough down in that black hollow, where we
made difficult progress amid loose bowlders.
Where this snake-like ravine widened out slightly we made choice for
our first camp. We reached there near the sunset hour, although the
sun itself had utterly vanished from our view long before, and we moved
forward amid a semi-darkness most depressing. On the spot selected the
towering wall of rock on our side of the little river overhung
sufficiently to form a comfortable shelter at its base. I had a goodly
supply of fresh pine boughs strewn so as to form a soft bed, while the
Puritan busied himself gathering together ample materials for a fire,
the reflected light of which caused the deep chasm where we rested to
appear more gloomy than before, while scurrying night clouds closed us
in as if imprisoned within a grave.
That evening was not devoted to much conversation. We were alike
wearied from our long tramp, heavy-hearted, and strangely depressed by
the desolate gloom of the rock cavern in which we lay. Even De Noyan
yielded to this spirit of brooding and, after a faint effort at forced
gayety, crept silently to his sleeping-place. The other two were not
long in following him. I was thus left alone to keep the first watch
of the night. Four lonelier, more miserable hours I do not remember
serving at the call of duty. The round moon crept slowly through the
black sky, until its soft, silvery beams rested, brighter than daylight
had been in that gorge, in glowing radiance along the surface of the
smooth, gleaming wall opposite, yet merely succeeded in rendering more
weird and uncanny the sombre desolation. The night wind arose, causing
the shadows of clinging pines to sway back and forth like spectral
figures, while a solemn silence, awesome in its intensity, brooded over
all, broken only by the noise of tumbling water, with occasional
rasping of boughs against the face of the cliff. The fire died away
into a few red embers, occasionally fanned into uncertain flame by
breaths of air sucked up the gorge. By the time my guard ended I was
so thoroughly unstrung that each flitting glimpse of deeper shadow
tempted me to fire.
It was at midnight, or as close to that hour as I was capable of
judging, when I aroused De Noyan and crawled into his place on the bed
of boughs. I lay there watching him a brief space, as he walked over
to the stream and plunged his face into the cool water. The last I
recall previous to dropping off into deep slumber was how large his
shadow loomed, silhouetted in the bright moonshine against a huge black
bowlder directly in my front.
I know not the hour, yet I noted, even in awakening, that the moon had
already passed from out the narrow ribbon of sky above, although still
fringing in silver beauty the sharp summit of the crest, when a quick,
nervous pressure upon my arm awoke me with a start of alarm. Lying at
full length, his head uplifted, was De Noyan.
"Keep still, Benteen," he whispered, his voice vibrant with excitement,
"and look yonder. In the name of all the fiends, what is that?"