A DESPERATE SITUATION.
Of the many trying experiences through which our lads had passed since
their introduction to each other in Victoria, none had presented so many
hopeless features as the present. They were high up on a mighty
mountain, whose terrible wilderness of rock and glacier, precipice and
chasm, limitless snow-field and trackless forest, stretched for weary
leagues in every direction; beyond hope of human aid; only a mouthful of
food between them and starvation; with night so close at hand that
near-by objects were already indistinct in its gathering gloom; without
shelter; inexperienced in wood-craft; and one so badly injured that he
lay moaning on the rocks, incapable of moving.
As all these details of the situation flashed into Alaric's mind he
became for a moment heart-sick and despairing at its utter hopelessness.
He was so exhausted with the exertions of the day, so unnerved by the
strain and anxiety of the perilous hours just passed, and so faint for
want of nourishment, that it is no wonder his strength was turned into
weakness, or that he could discover no ray of hope through the
all-pervading gloom.
Suddenly and as clearly as though spoken by his side, came the words:
"Always remember that, as my friend Jalap Coombs says, 'It is never so
dark but what there is a light somewhere.'" The memory of Phil Ryder's
brave face as he uttered that sentence came to our poor lad like a
tonic, and instantly he was resolved to find the light that was shining
for him somewhere.
With such marvellous quickness does the mind act in an emergency, that
all these thoughts came to Alaric even as he bent anxiously over his
injured friend and began to examine tenderly into the nature of his
hurts. As he lifted the left arm the sufferer uttered a cry of pain, and
its hand hung limp. The other limbs were sound, but Bonny said that
every breath was like a stab.
"One arm broken, and I'm afraid something gone wrong inside," announced
Alaric at length; "but it might be ever so much worse," he continued, in
as cheerful a tone as he could command. "One of your legs might have
been broken, you know, and then we should be in a fix, for I couldn't
carry you, and we should have to stay right here. Now, though, I am sure
you can walk as far as the timber if you will only try. Of course it
will hurt terribly."
Very slowly, and with many a stifled cry of acute pain, Bonny gained his
feet. Then, with his right arm about Alaric's neck, and with the latter
stoutly supporting him, the injured lad managed to cross the few hundred
feet intervening between that place and the longed-for shelter.
Both Bonny's weakness and the darkness, which was now that of night,
prevented their penetrating deep into the timber; but before the
sufferer sank to the ground, declaring that he could not take another
step, they had gone far enough to escape the icy blast that, sweeping
down from the upper snow-fields, had chilled them to the marrow. This
alone was a notable achievement, and already Alaric believed he could
perceive a glimmer of the light he had set out to find.
Now for a fire, and how grateful they were for M. Filbert's forethought
that had provided each one of his party with plenty of matches! Feeling
about for twigs, and whittling a few shavings with his sheath-knife,
Alaric quickly started a tiny flame, and with its first cheery glow
their situation seemed robbed of half its terrors. An armful of sticks
produced a brave crackling blaze that drove the black forest shadows to
a respectful distance.
With Bonny's hatchet Alaric next lopped all the branches from the lower
side of a thick-growing hemlock and wove them among those that were
left, so as to form a wind-break. An armful of the same flat boughs, cut
from other trees and strewn on the ground, formed a springy bed on which
to unfold the sleeping-bags, that by rare good fortune had remained
strapped to the lads' shoulders during all their terrible journey from
the summit camp of the night before.
After making his comrade as comfortable as possible, Alaric hurried away
into the darkness. He was gone so long that Bonny, who did not know the
reason of his absence, began to grow very uneasy before he returned.
When he did reappear, he brought with him a quantity of snow that he had
gone back a quarter of a mile up the dark mountain-side to obtain. He
wanted water, and not hearing or finding any stream, had bethought
himself of snow as a substitute.
In each of the packs they had so fortunately brought with them was a
handful of tea, for M. Filbert had insisted that all the provisions
should be divided among all the packs as a precaution against just such
an emergency as had arisen. Therefore Alaric now had the materials for a
longed-for and much-needed cup of the stimulating beverage. To make it,
an amount of the precious leaves equal to a teaspoonful was put into one
of their tin cups while snow was melted in the other. As soon as this
came to a boil it was poured over the tea-leaves in cup number one,
which was allowed to stand for two minutes longer in a warm place to
"draw."
While Bonny slowly sipped this, at the same time munching a handful of
hard biscuit, which, broken into small bits, was all the food they had
left, Alaric boiled another cup of water for himself.
From all this it will be seen that our one-time helpless and dependent
"Allie" Todd was rapidly learning not only to care for himself under
trying conditions, but for others as well.
As soon as Bonny had been thus strengthened and thoroughly warmed,
Alaric made a more thorough examination of his injuries than had been
possible out in the cold and darkness where the accident occurred. He
found that the left arm had sustained a simple fracture, fortunately but
little splintered, and also that two ribs on the left side were broken.
For these he could do nothing; but he managed to set the broken arm
after a fashion, bandage it with handkerchiefs torn into strips, and
finally to place it in a case formed of a troughlike section of hemlock
bark, which he hung from Bonny's neck by straps. Then he helped his
patient into one of the sleeping-bags, encouraging him all the while
with hopeful suggestions of what they would do on the morrow.
After thus making his charge as comfortable as circumstances would
permit, the lad busied himself for another hour in collecting such a
quantity of wood as should insure a good fire until morning. Then,
utterly fagged out, he crept into his own bed, and lay down beside his
friend.
When he next awoke daylight was already some hours old, the place where
the fire had burned was covered with dead ashes, and Bonny lay patiently
regarding him with wistful eyes.
"I am so thirsty, Rick," was all he said, though he had lain for hours
wide-awake and parched with fever, but heroically determined that his
wearied comrade should sleep until he woke of his own accord.
"You poor fellow!" cried Alaric, remorsefully. "Why didn't you wake me
long ago?"
"I couldn't bear to," replied Bonny; "but now, if you will please get me
a drink."
Only pausing to light a fresh fire, Alaric hastened away to the distant
snow-bank, returning as speedily as possible with as much of it as their
two tin plates would hold. A handful was given to Bonny to cool his
parched tongue while the remainder was melting.
So small a quantity of water could be procured at a time by this slow
process that in a very few minutes Alaric found he must go for more
snow. As he went he realized how faint he was for want of food. "I
wonder how much longer I shall be able to hold out?" he asked himself.
"How many more times can I make this trip before my strength is
exhausted?" A mental picture of Bonny begging for water, and he too weak
to fetch it, caused his eyes to fill with tears, and a black despair
again enfolded him.
At this moment the voice of the previous night came again to him: It is
never so dark but what there's a light somewhere. "Of course there is,"
he cried, "and as I found it last night, why shouldn't I to-day?" Even
as the lad spoke he caught its first gleam in the form of a rivulet of
clear water that rippled merrily down from the snow only a few yards
from where he stood. Hastening to this, the lad drank long and deeply.
On lifting his head from the delicious water, he could hardly believe
his eyes as they rested on a solitary bird, that he knew to be a
ptarmigan, crouching beside a bowlder. Hoping against hope and almost
unnerved by anxiety, he flung a stone, and in another minute the bird
was his. "Hurrah for breakfast!" he shouted, as he ran back to Bonny
with his trophy proudly displayed at arm's-length.
Awkward as Alaric was at the business, he had that heaven-sent bird
stripped of its feathers, cleaned, and spitted over a bed of glowing
coals within ten minutes of the time he had first spied it, and a little
later only its cleanly picked bones remained to tell of its existence.
Bonny was disinclined to eat, but he drank two cups of hot tea, that
threw him into a perspiration, greatly to Alaric's satisfaction. As he
also seemed drowsy, Alaric encouraged him to sleep, while he should go
in search of more food and assistance, with one or both of which he
promised to return before noon.