LOST IN A BLIZZARD
After a time Jamie awoke. The two men were still sitting by the fire
and were again drinking from the bottle. He was uncomfortable in his
cramped position, but dared not move, and he lay very still and
watched the men and the fire and the black wall of the mysterious,
trackless forest beyond. Shadows rose and fell and flitted in and out
of the circle of firelight. Weird and uncanny they seemed, taking
strange forms like dancing spirits. In the darkness outside the
firelight and moving shadows Jamie fancied that terrible ghoulish
forms were stalking stealthily and grinning maliciously at him.
For a long while Jamie lay awake and watched. Again and again the men
drank from the bottle, and when they spoke at intervals their voices
sounded unnatural and thick. Once one of them arose to replenish the
fire, and he moved unsteadily upon his feet, at which the little lad
marvelled, for he was a large, strong man. Presently Jamie's eyes
drooped again, and once more he slept.
When he again awoke dawn was breaking. Snow was falling heavily. The
two men were in a deep sleep. The fire had died down to a bed of
coals, and Jamie was shivering with the cold.
His arms were numb, and his body and limbs ached from the cramped
position in which he lay because of his bound arms and feet. With some
effort he turned over, and this brought him some relief, but not for
long, and presently he rolled back to his original position that he
might see the red coals of the fire.
Jamie tried to move his hands, but his wrists were too firmly tied,
and the effort brought only pain. Then he lay still and studied the
smouldering fire. Behind it lay the remnants of a back log that had
been burned through in the centre. The inner ends of the log, where it
was separated, were, like the coals before it, red and glowing, and he
thought that if he could push them together they would blaze and give
out warmth.
Then, suddenly, an idea flashed into Jamie's brain. Those red ends of
the log would burn the string that bound him, and he could free
himself if he could only reach them and press the string against them.
His movements in turning over had not disturbed his captors. They were
still sleeping profoundly. From the condition of the fire it was
evident they had been sitting by it the greater part of the night and
had replenished it at a late hour, else all the coals would have been
dead.
Hank lay at the opposite end of the lean-to from Jamie, and Bill in
the centre, with their feet toward the fire. Jamie was lying at the
back, his head near Bill's head and his feet toward the end of the
lean-to farthest from Hank.
For several minutes Jamie studied the position of each and the
possibilities of working his way out of the lean-to without awakening
the men. Finally he determined to make an attempt to gain his freedom.
Cautiously and as noiselessly as possible he began to wriggle away,
inch by inch, from Bill, and toward the fire. Several times he fancied
the men moved restlessly in their sleep, but when he looked toward
them they appeared to be still sleeping heavily. On each occasion,
however, he lay still until he became wholly satisfied that he had
been mistaken and that they had not been disturbed.
Little by little he edged away until at length he was well outside the
lean-to. His efforts were painful and slow, but in the course of half
an hour he was near enough to the end of the log to touch it with his
bound feet. His exertions had set his blood in motion and inspired him
with hope of success.
With much care and patience he pushed the stick until he was able to
rest the string, where it crossed between his ankles, upon the glowing
end. Drawing his feet as far apart as possible, with all the strength
he possessed, he was quickly rewarded by feeling a relaxation, and in
a moment his heart leaped with joy. The string was severed.
Squirming around upon his chest, Jamie arose to a kneeling position,
and then stood erect. So far as his legs were concerned he was free.
Jamie's first impulse was to run wildly away, but he restrained
himself. Standing over the men he looked down upon them. Neither had
moved, and to all appearances they were sleeping as soundly as ever.
"I'm thinkin' now I'll try to burn off the string on my hands too," he
decided. "'Twill be easier gettin' on with un free, and I'll travel a
rare lot faster with my arms loose."
Burning the strings from his wrists, however, proved a much more
difficult problem than burning them from his ankles. He sat down with
his back to the hot end of the stick, but discovered that it was no
easy matter to find just the right position between the wrists.
Several efforts resulted only in painful burns on his hands, but he
was not discouraged, and finally was rewarded. The string where it
crossed between his wrists was brought into contact with the sharp
point of the glowing hot stick, and though the reflected heat burned
him cruelly he held the string pressed against the fire until at last
it crumbled away and his hands flew apart.
"She took grit," said he, "but I made out to do un."
With the joy of freedom and the anxiety to escape his tormentors,
Jamie was oblivious to the pain of his burned and blistered wrists. He
could use both hands and feet, and was confident that he would soon
find the camp and his friends.
Jamie ran as fast as his short legs would carry him. The snow was
nearly knee deep, but it was soft and feathery and he scarcely gave it
thought at first. He had no doubt that he knew exactly in which
direction camp lay, and it never entered his head that he might go
wrong or lose his way as he dashed through the woods at the best speed
of which he was capable.
Presently the impediment of the snow compelled him to reduce his gait
to a walk, and for nearly an hour he pushed on in what he supposed was
a straight line, when he came suddenly upon fresh axe cuttings and a
moment later saw through the thickly falling snow a familiar lean-to.
He stopped in consternation and fright, scarcely knowing which way to
turn. He was within fifty feet of the two desperate men from whom he
had so recently fled. In the storm he had made a complete circuit.
The men were still soundly sleeping, and instinctively Jamie backed
away. He had lost a full hour of valuable time. The men might awake at
any moment, discover his absence and trail him and overtake him in the
snow.
These thoughts flashed through Jamie's mind, and in wild panic he
turned and ran until at length exhaustion brought him to a halt.
"They'll sure be cotchin' me," he panted, "and I'm not knowin' the way
in the snow! I'll be goin' right around and comin' back again to the
same place if I don't look out! I can't bide here," he continued in
desperation. "I'll have to go somewheres else or they'll sure cotch
me!"
Bewildered and frightened Jamie looked wildly about him. Then he
bethought himself of the compass in his pocket. Eagerly drawing it
forth he held it in his hand and studied its face.
"The Bay's to the suth'ard, whatever," he calculated. "If the Bay's to
the suth'ard the brook's to the east'ard. I'll be lettin' the compass
pilot me to the east'ard. 'Twill take me the right direction
whatever."
Levelling the compass carefully in his hand so that the needle swung
freely he found the east, and as rapidly as his little legs would
carry him set out again in his effort to escape the two sleeping men
and to find camp and his friends.
At intervals he stopped to consult his compass. Then he would hurry
forward again as fast as ever he could go through the snow, looking
behind him fearfully, half expecting each time to see the men in close
pursuit, and always with the dread that a gruff voice in the rear
would command him to halt, or that a rifle bullet would be sent after
him without warning.
As time passed and there was no indication that he was followed, Jamie
began to feel some degree of security. Because of the storm it was
unlikely that the men would venture upon the Bay. They had kept late
hours drinking at the bottle, and unless they were awakened by the
cold they would in all probability sleep late and therefore not
discover his absence until the thickly falling snow had so far covered
his trail as to preclude the possibility of them following it with
certainty.
With his mind more or less relieved on this point, Jamie suddenly
realized that he was hungry. It was nearing midday. He had eaten
nothing for twenty-four hours, and he had the normal appetite of a
healthy boy. The snow had perceptibly increased in depth since his
escape from the lean-to, and walking was correspondingly hard. He was
so hungry and so weary that at length he could scarcely force one
foot ahead of the other.
The wind was rising, and in crossing an open frozen marsh the snow
drifted before the gale in clouds so dense as to be suffocating. The
storm was attaining the proportions of a blizzard, and when Jamie
again reached the shelter of the forest beyond the marsh he found it
necessary to stop to rest and regain his breath.
"'Twill never do to try to cross another mesh," he decided. "I'm like
to be overcome with un and perish before I finds my way out of un to
the timber. I'll stick to the woods, and if I can't stick to un I'll
have to bide where I is till the snow stops. I wonders now if Doctor
Joe and David is out lookin' for me. I'm not thinkin' they'd bide in
the tent with me lost out here and they not knowin' where I is."
When he was rested a little he arose, took his direction with the
compass, and floundered on through the snow.
"They's sure out somewhere lookin' for me," he thought, "but 'tis
snowin' so hard they never will find me! I'll have to keep goin' till
I finds camp. 'Tis strange now I'm not comin' to the brook, 'tis
wonderful strange. I'm thinkin' though I were crossin' two meshes with
the men in the night, and I've only been crossin' one goin' back
to-day. I'm fearin' I'll never be able to cross un though, when I
comes to the next un."
Presently, as Jamie had thought would be the case, he came to another
marsh. It satisfied him that he was going in the right direction, but
at the same time it lay out before him as a well-nigh impassable
barrier. The wind was driving the snow across it in swirling dense
clouds, and he stood for a little in the shelter of the trees and
viewed it with heavy heart.
"'Tis a bigger mesh than the other," he commented to himself, "but
I'll have to try to cross un. I can't bide here. I'll freeze to death
with no shelter and I has no axe for makin' a shelter. I'm not knowin'
what to do."
For a little while he hesitated, then he plunged out upon the edge of
the marsh. He was nearly swept from his feet, and to recover his
breath he was forced to retreat again to the woods. Three times he
tried to face the storm-swept marsh, but each time was sent staggering
back to shelter. It was a task beyond the strength and endurance of so
young a lad, and utterly exhausted and bitterly disappointed, he sat
down upon the trunk of a fallen tree to rest.
"I never can make un whilst the nasty weather lasts," he acknowledged.
"I'm fair scrammed and I'll have to wait for the wind to ease before I
tries un again."
He could scarce restrain the tears. It was a bitter disappointment. He
was so hungry, and so weary, and wished so hard to reach the safety of
camp and freedom from the still present danger of being recaptured.
"I'll have plenty o' grit and a stout heart like a man," he presently
declared. "I don't mind bein' a bit hungry, and I'll never be givin'
up! I'll never give up whatever! Pop says plenty o' grit'll pull a man
out o' most any fix. I'm in a bad fix now, and I'll have grit and
won't be gettin' scared. 'Twill never do to be gettin' scared
whatever."
Jamie sat quietly upon the log, and presently found himself dozing. He
sprang to his feet, for sleeping under these conditions was dangerous.
He tried to walk about, but was so tired that he again returned to the
log to rest. It was growing colder, and he shivered. The storm was
increasing in fury.
"I'm not knowin' what to do!" he said despairingly. "If I goes on
I'll perish and if I keeps still I'll freeze to death and I'm too
wearied to move about to keep warm. 'Tis likely the storm'll last the
night through whatever, and I'll never be able to stick un out that
long."
Jamie again found himself dozing, and again he got upon his feet.
"I'll have to be doin' somethin'," said he. "I'll keep my grit and try
to think of somethin' to do or I'll perish."
Jamie was right. He was in peril, and grave peril. Even though the
storm-swept marsh had not stood in his way he was quite too weary to
walk farther. He was thrown entirely upon his own resources. His life
depended upon his own initiative, for he was quite beyond help from
others. It was a great unpeopled wilderness in which Jamie was lost,
and he was but a wee lad, and even though Doctor Joe and David were
looking for him there was scarce a chance that they could find him in
the raging storm.