HOW A SONG SAVED ALARIC'S LIFE
When Alaric made that promise he had no more idea of how it was to be
kept than he had of what was to become of Bonny and himself. He only
knew that active exertion of some kind was necessary to keep him from
utter despair. Besides, it was just possible that he might discover and
secure another bird, though not at all probable, as the one on which he
had breakfasted was the first that he had encountered since coming to
the mountain.
By the time he emerged from the timber the morning clouds had rolled
away, the sun was shining brightly, and the whole vast sweep of gleaming
snow and tumultuous rock, from timber-line to distant summit, lay piled
in steep ascent before him. It was a wonderful sight, but as terrible as
it was grand, for in all its awful solitude there was no movement, no
voice, and no sign of life. Oppressed by the loneliness of his
surroundings, and having no reason for choosing one direction rather
than another, the lad mechanically turned to the right and began to make
his way along a bowlder-strewn slope, where every now and then he came
to the bleached skeletons of stunted trees, winter-killed, but still
standing, and seeming to stretch imploring arms to their retreating
brethren of the forest.
He had not gone more than a mile when there came something to him that
caused him to halt and glance inquiringly on all sides. At the same
time he lifted his head and sniffed the air eagerly, like a hound on the
scent of game. He was certain that he had smelled smoke. Yes, there it
came again; a whiff so faint as to be almost imperceptible, but the
unmistakable odor of burning wood.
Facing squarely the breeze that brought it to him, the lad pushed
forward, and a few minutes later stood on the verge of a little mountain
meadow, sun-warmed and rock-walled on all sides, save the one by which
he had approached. Here the slope was so gentle that he started down on
a run. He had thus gone but a short distance when he suddenly paused
with his eyes fixed on the ground where he was standing.
He had been unconsciously following a path, faintly marked and hardly to
be distinguished, but nevertheless one that he felt certain had been
trodden by human feet. The discovery filled him with excitement, and he
bounded forward with redoubled speed. Halfway down the slope, at a point
commanding a lovely view of the flower-strewn valley, the trail ended at
a crystal spring that bubbled from among the roots of a tall young
hemlock. Other trees were grouped near-by, and beneath them stood a rude
hut built of poles and boughs, but having a rain-proof roof of thatch.
Before it smouldered a log fire, from which rose the thin column of
smoke that had directed Alaric's attention to the place.
Filled with exultation and wild with joy over his discovery, the lad
gazed eagerly about for some sign of the proprietor or occupants of this
lonely camp, and at length, seeing no one, he began to shout. Receiving
no response, he entered the hut, and was surprised at the absence of
even the rude comforts common to such a place. There was a heap of white
goat-skins in one corner, and a quantity of meat, either smoked or
dried, hung from a rafter overhead. A kettle and a fry-pan lay outside
near the fire, an axe was driven into the trunk of one of the trees,
and, so far as Alaric could see, there was nothing else. But even these
things were enough to indicate that this was a place of at least
temporary human abode, and wherever its proprietor might be, he would
return to it sooner or later. Then, too, Alaric believed it to be the
camp of a white man; for though his knowledge of Indians was limited, it
in no way resembled that of Skookum John.
"At any rate," he said to himself, "I will try and get Bonny here as
quickly as possible, for he will be a thousand times better off in this
place than where I left him."
So, with a lighter heart than he had known since his comrade's accident,
Alaric started back over the trail by which he had come. Bonny was awake
and sitting up when he reappeared, and the sufferer's face brightened
wonderfully at the great news of at least one other human being, a camp,
and an abundance of food so near at hand.
"Do you really think I can get there, though?" he asked, anxiously.
"Yes," replied Alaric, "I know you can; for, as you said yesterday when
we were looking at that precipice, it is something that must be done. We
can't stay here without either food or shelter, and we don't dare wait
for the owner of that camp to come back and help us move, because he may
stay away several days. I know it is going to hurt you awfully to walk,
but I know too that you'll do it if you only make up your mind to."
"All right, I'll try it; but, Rick, don't you forget that if I ever get
down from this mountain alive, never again will I climb another. No,
sir. Level ground will be good enough for me after this."
As Alaric was doing up the sleeping-bags a familiar-looking baseball
rolled from his, and caught Bonny's eye.
"If you aren't a queer chap!" he exclaimed. "Whatever made you bring
that ball along?"
"Because," answered the other, "it means so much to me that I hated to
leave it behind, and then I thought perhaps it would be fun to have a
game on the very top of the mountain. When we reached there, though, I
forgot all about it."
"Yes," said Bonny, grimly, "we did have something else to think of.
Ough, but that hurts!"
This exclamation was called forth by the poor lad's effort to gain his
feet, which he found he was unable to do without assistance.
Although Alaric carried both packs, and lent Bonny all possible support
besides, that one-mile walk proved the most difficult either of the lads
had ever undertaken. Brave and stout-hearted as Bonny was, he could not
help groaning with every step, and they were obliged to rest so often
that the little journey occupied several hours. At its end both lads
were utterly exhausted, and Bonny was suffering so intensely that he
hardly noticed the place to which he had been brought. The moment he
gained the hut he sank down on its pile of goat-skins with closed eyes,
and so white a face that he seemed about to faint.
When Alaric was there before, he had mended the fire and set on a kettle
of water, with a view to just such an emergency as the present. The
water was still boiling, and so within three minutes he was able to give
his patient a cup of strong tea that greatly revived him. Food was the
next thing to be thought of, and Alaric did not hesitate to appropriate
one of the strips of goat's flesh that hung overhead. Not being quite
sure of the best way to cook this, he cut one portion into small bits,
put them into the kettle with a little water, and set the whole on the
fire to simmer. Another portion he sliced thin and laid in the fry-pan,
which he also set on the fire. Still a third bit he spitted on a long
stick and held close to a bed of coals, where it frizzled with such an
appetizing odor that he could not wait for it to be cooked before
cutting off small bits to sample. They were so good that he went to
offer some to Bonny; but finding the latter still lying with closed
eyes, thought best not to disturb him. So he sat alone and ate all the
frizzled meat, and all that was in the fry-pan, and was still so hungry
that he procured another strip of meat from the hut, and began all over
again.
They had been nearly two hours in the camp before his ravenous appetite
was fully satisfied, and by that time the contents of the pot had
simmered into a sort of thick broth. At a faint call from Bonny, Alaric
carried some of this to him, and had the satisfaction of seeing him
swallow a whole cupful. Then, as night was again approaching, he helped
his patient into one of the sleeping-bags, which he underlaid with
several goat-skins, and sat by him until he fell into a doze. When this
happened Alaric went softly outside, and, to dispel the gathering gloom,
piled logs on the fire until it was in a bright blaze. Sitting a little
to one side, half in light and half in shadow, and having no present
occupation, the lad fell into a deep reverie. How was this strange
adventure to end? Who owned that camp, and why did he not return to it?
What would he think on finding strangers in possession? Had any boy ever
stepped from one life into another so entirely different as suddenly and
completely as he? One year ago at this time he was in France, surrounded
by every luxury that money could procure, carefully guarded from every
form of anxiety, and dependent upon others for everything. Now he was
thankful for the shelter of a hut, and a meal of half-cooked meat
prepared by his own hands. He not only had everything to do for himself,
but had another still more helpless dependent upon him for everything.
Was he any happier then than now? No. He could honestly say that he
preferred his present position, with its health, strength, and glorious
self-reliance, to the one he had resigned.
Still there had been happy times in that other life. Two years ago, for
instance, when his mother and he had travelled leisurely through
Germany, halting whenever they chose, and remaining as long as places
interested them. Thoughts of his mother recalled the plaintive little
German folk-song of which she had been so fond.
_Muss i denn._ Yes, that was it, and involuntarily Alaric began to hum
the air. Then the words began to fit themselves to it, and before he
realized what he was doing he was singing softly:
"Muss i denn, muss i denn
Zum Staedtele 'naus, Staedtele 'naus:
Und du, mein Schatz, bleibst hier."
So engrossed was the lad with his thoughts and with trying to recall the
words of the song running in his head that he heard nothing of a soft
footstep that for several minutes had been stealthily approaching the
fire-lit place where he sat. He knew nothing of the wild eyes that,
peering from a haggard face, were fixed upon him with the glare of
madness. He had no suspicion of the brown rifle-barrel that was slowly
raised until he was covered by its deadly aim. But now he had recalled
all the words of his song, and they rang out strong and clear:
"Muss i denn, muss i denn
Zum Staedtele 'naus, Staedtele 'naus:
Und du--"
At that moment there came a great cry behind him: "_Ach, Himmel! Wer ist
denn das?_" and the startled lad sprang to his feet in terror.