CHAPTER XXIV—A THOUGHT FOR TO-MORROW

Westy never knew what great strength he had been given in that crucial

moment. He only remembered afterward that every muscle in his body was

strained to the utmost in being equal to that almost superhuman task.

It was enough to know that he finally pulled Rip out of the torrential

current--unconscious; almost gone, but still a little life-giving breath

left in the cold body.

A difficult thing to pull himself and his heavy burden over that

slippery trunk. He thought he would never get to the cliff, so slow was

his progress. But he made it and laid the still form face downward on

the broad base.

Working tirelessly over the limp form to restore respiration, Westy

noted some dark clouds gathering in the sky and partly obscuring the sun

from view. He worked diligently, waiting to see the poor purpled lips

utter a human sound.

After a short time elapsed and still he did not seem to respond, Westy

became thoroughly alarmed, for a storm was coming on and it was getting

darker overhead every minute.

He worked over him harder than ever, pleading, praying and asking for

Divine intercession before the storm would break. Watching so intently,

he really imagined that Rip was moving his body and his lips were moving

in speech. But when he’d hold his face close to the unconscious boy he

knew it was just hysteria that made him think he was moving and speaking

when he wasn’t. So taking hold of himself, he started in again and had

just grasped Rip’s arms to move him when the boy opened his eyes.

Westy’s thankfulness knew no bounds.

“Say, Wes,” he said a trifle weakly, “there’s no dirt in your eyes at

all. I’ll take it all back right now!”

“Forget it, Rip!” Westy was wiping away the tears, unashamed, that were

clouding his eyes. “I’m only glad that you’re K. O. How d’ye feel?”

“O. K. Not so bad, huh?”

“I should say not. Do you think you’d be able to get up with some help

in a few minutes?”

“Sure, I’m no cripple. Any hurry?”

“No, only I want to get you up in the shelter of the cliff before the

storm breaks.”

“Storm? Gee, that’s so! We’re on the base now, aren’t we? How’d you ever

do it, Wes? I thought I was a goner sure. Would have been if I hadn’t

lost my way getting up here. Went in the other direction, but got here

eventually. Lucky I lost that much time. The water was like a

merry-go-round where I was stuck. Couldn’t get my legs out at all. Don’t

know how long I held on, but it seemed like hours.”

“Well, we won’t talk of it any more. You’re tiptop now and that’s that!

Think you can make it now if I give you a lift?”

The storm was gathering in earnest and as the thunder rumbled in the

distance and lightning flashed in frenzied streaks across the black

horizon, the boys ascended the cliff slowly but surely.

Beginning a short distance back, the stunted cliff was topped by a thick

jungle of trees and rank undergrowth, but at that Westy was thankful for

the protection it afforded in the fury of the storm that followed.

They walked in the forest quite a ways with the wind and rain beating

all around them and came to a spot where some trees had fallen in some

storm of long ago and which time had cemented together, forming a

perfect shelter beneath their giant trunks.

Westy and Rip crawled under and in.

It was dry and warm, but didn’t allow them any more room than they

needed to lie down in.

Rip took his wet bathing suit off and spread it out to dry and Westy

also removed his wet garments and then they both crawled under the dry

dead leaves to keep warm.

“I’m pretty hungry, Wes, aren’t you?”

“Don’t speak of it now! It’s a very delicate subject. Neither of us have

had anything since breakfast. My gosh!”

“I’m so tired and sleepy, though,” Rip said. “I guess I can close my

eyes and forget it. We’ll think of it to-morrow, eh?”

“Sure, ’s time enough!”

But Westy wondered and was worried. He knew that any attempt to swim

back across the lake would be foolhardy. The whole place was probably a

series of the whirlpools. And it was senseless to take the chance. The

forest was their only means of escape. They’d have to trust to luck to

get out of it and around over the mountain. That was the question now

uppermost in his mind. How and where?

As if reading his thoughts, Rip faced him, half-asleep, and smiled:

“I guess the question for to-morrow is: Where do we go from here?”

Westy Martin on the Santa Fe Trail · 第 24 / 46 章