VANE POSTPONES THE SEARCH.
When Vane rose early next morning, there was frost in the air, and when
breakfast was ready the men ate hastily, eager for the exertion that
would put a little warmth into them.
"We had it a good deal colder on other trips; I suppose I've been
getting luxurious, since I seem to resent it now," said Vane. "There's
no doubt that winter's beginning earlier than I expected up here; As
soon as you can strike the tent, we'll move on."
The valley grew wilder and more rugged as they proceeded. In places, its
bottom was filled with muskegs, cumbered with half-submerged, decaying
trunks of fallen trees; and when they could not spring from one falling
log to another they sank in slime and water to the knee. They entered
transverse valleys, and after hours of exhausting labour, abandoned the
search of each in turn and plodded back to the one they had been
following. Their boots and clothing suffered; their packs were rent upon
their backs, and, since men engaged in such work must be generously fed,
their provisions diminished rapidly.
At length, one lowering afternoon, they were brought to a standstill by
the river, which forked into two branches, one of which came foaming out
on a cleft in the rocks. This would have mattered less had it flowed
across the level; but just there it had scored itself out a deep hollow,
from which the roar of its turmoil rose in long reverberations. Carroll,
who was aching all over, stood upon the brink, and first of all gazed
ahead. He surmised from the steady ascent and the contours of the hills
that the valley was dying out, and that they should reach the head of it
in another day's journey. The higher summits, however, were veiled in
leaden mist, and there was a sting in the cold breeze that blew down the
hollow and set the ragged firs wailing. Then he glanced dubiously at the
dim, green water, which swirled in deep eddies and boiled in white
confusion among the fangs of rock sixty or seventy feet below. Not far
away the stream was wider and he supposed in consequence shallower,
though it ran furiously.
"It doesn't look encouraging, and we have no more food left than will
take us back to the sloop if we're economical," he said. "Do you think
it's worth while going on?"
"I haven't a doubt about it," Vane declared. "We ought to reach the head
of the valley and get back here in two or three days."
"Three days will make a big hole in the provisions."
"Then we'll have to put up with short rations," Vane rejoined.
"If you're determined, we may as well get on."
He stepped cautiously over the edge of the descent, and went down a few
yards with a run, while loosened soil and stones slipped away under him.
Then he clutched a slender tree, and proceeded as far as the next on his
hands and knees. After that, it was necessary to swing himself over a
ledge, and he was on the whole astonished when he alighted safely on one
below, from which he could scramble down to the narrow strip of gravel
between rock and water. He was standing, breathless, looking at the
latter, when Vane joined him. The stones dipped sharply, and two or
three large boulders, ringed about with froth, rose near the middle of
the stream, which seemed to be running slacker on the other side of
them.
There was nothing to show how deep it was, but Carroll braced himself
for an effort and sturdily plunged in.
Two steps took him up to the waist, and he had trouble in finding solid
bottom at the next, because the gravel rolled and slipped away beneath
his feet in the strong stream. The current also dragged hard at his
limbs, and he set his lips tight when it crept up to his ribs. Then he
lost his footing, and was washed away, plunging and floundering, with
now and then one toe resting momentarily upon the bottom, until he was
hurled against the first of the boulders with a crash that almost drove
the little remaining breath out of his body. He clung to it desperately,
gasping hard; and then with a determined struggle contrived to reach the
second stone, against which the stream pressed him, without finding any
support for his feet. A moment or two later, Vane was washed down
towards him, and grabbing at the boulder held on by it. They said
nothing to each other, but they looked at the sliding water between them
and the opposite bank. Carroll was getting horribly cold, and felt the
power ebbing out of him; he thought if he must swim across he had better
do so at once.
Launching himself forward, he felt the flood lap his breast, but as his
arms went in he struck something violently with one leg and found that
he could stand up on a submerged ledge. This carried him a yard or two,
and though he stepped over the end of the ledge into deeper water, he
reached a strip of shelving shingle, up which he staggered. Vane
overtook him, and they scrambled up the slope ahead, which was a little
less steep than the one they had descended. The work warmed them
slightly, and they needed it, but as they strode on again, keeping to
the foot of the hillside where the timber was less dense, a cold rain
drove into their faces. It grew steadily thicker; the straps began to
gall their wet shoulders, and their saturated clothing clung heavily
about their limbs. In spite of this, they went on until nightfall, when
it was difficult to make a fire, and after a reduced supper found a
little humid warmth in their wet blankets.
The next day's work was much the same, only that they crossed no rivers
and it rained harder; and, when evening came, Carroll, who had burst one
boot, was limping badly. They made camp among the dripping firs which
partly sheltered them from the bitter wind, and shortly after supper
both fell asleep.
At evening next day they reached the head of the valley. It was still
raining and heavy mists obscured the summits of the hills, but above the
lower slopes of rocks glimmering snow ran up into the vapour. There were
a few balsams and hemlocks about them, but no sign of a spruce.
"Now," said Carroll, "I expect you'll be satisfied."
Vane was no nearer to owning himself defeated than he had been when they
first set out. "We know there's no spruce in this valley; and that's
something," he replied. "When we come back again we'll try the next
one."
"It has cost us a good deal to make sure of the fact."
Vane's expression changed. "We haven't ascertained the cost just yet. As
a rule, you don't make up the bill until you're through with the
undertaking; and it may be a longer one than either of us think. Now
we'll turn upon our tracks."
Carroll recalled his speech afterwards, but just then he only hitched
his burden a little higher on his aching shoulders as he plodded after
his comrade down the rain-swept hollow, and he had good cause to
remember the march to the inlet. It rained most of the way, and their
clothes were never dry; parts of them, indeed, flowed in tatters about
their aching limbs, and before they had covered half the distance their
boots were dropping to pieces. What was more important, their provisions
were rapidly running out, and they marched on a few handfuls of food,
carefully apportioned twice daily. At last one night they lay down
hungry, with empty bags, to sleep shelterless in the rain, for they had
thrown their tent away; and Carroll had some difficulty in getting on
his feet next morning.
"I believe I can hold out until sundown, though I'm far from sure of
it," he said. "You'll have to leave me behind if we don't strike the
inlet then."
"We'll strike it in the afternoon," Vane assured him.
They set out as soon as they had reslung their packs, and Carroll limped
and stumbled. He managed, however, to keep pace with Vane, and some time
after noon the latter cried out as a twinkling gleam among the trees
caught his eye. Then the shuffling pace grew faster, and they were
breathless when at last they stopped and dropped their burdens beside
the boat. It was only at the third or fourth attempt they got her down
to the water, and the veins were swollen high on Vane's flushed forehead
when at last he sat down, panting heavily, on her gunwale.
"We ran her up quite easily, though we had the slope to face then," he
remarked.
"You could scarcely expect to carry boats about without trouble, after a
march like the one we've made," Carroll pointed out.
They ran her in and pulled off to the sloop. When they sat down in the
little saloon, in which there was a mirror, Vane grinned.
"I knew you looked a deadbeat, but I'd no idea I was quite so bad," he
said. "Anyhow, we'll get the stove lighted and some dry things on. The
next question is--what shall we have for supper?"
"That's simple," Carroll answered. "Everything that's most tempting and
the whole of it."
Some little time later, they flung their boots and rent garments
overboard and sat down to a feast. The plates were empty when they rose,
and in another hour both of them were wrapped in heavy slumber.