CHAPTER XXXI

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 woodcraft; and one of them so seriously

injured that he lay moaning on the cruel rocks that had wounded him,

apparently 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 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 examining 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, but you must do it, for there is no other way."

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 of the

stunted hemlocks forming the timber-line.

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 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 off 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 spring 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 trough-like 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.

Despite the painful nature of his injuries, Bonny had already fallen

asleep, but Alaric lay awake from sheer weariness, and struggled against

gloomy thoughts of their future. He knew that the home-like camp in

which they had passed two weeks so happily, and which they had hoped to

regain by following the timber-line, was on the opposite side of the

mountain, many weary miles away. He knew also that between them and it

lay a region so rugged as to be wellnigh impassable to the sturdiest of

mountaineers, and absolutely so to one in Bonny's condition. It would be

a journey of two or more days under the most favorable circumstances;

but alone and without food he realized that even he could not accomplish

it. Besides, he could not leave Bonny in his present helpless condition.

Therefore, all thoughts of obtaining assistance from that direction must

be abandoned. Could they continue on down the mountain through the

trackless forest that on the upward journey they had occupied two whole

days in traversing on horseback, and with a clearly defined trail?

Certainly they could not, and to make the attempt would be worse than

folly. What, then, could they do? This question was so unanswerable that

the perplexed lad gave over struggling with it and fell asleep.

He intended to replenish his fire several times during the night; but

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 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 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 is 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.

Rick Dale, A Story of the Northwest Coast · 第 31 / 40 章