_Corporal Jenkins's March_
But the caravan did not come. A thaw had set in, reinforced by a rain,
and all the mountain streams were torrents again--utterly impassable.
When Tom explained the case the lieutenant said:
"Nevertheless Corporal Jenkins will get here with the supplies. He may
be much longer in coming than we hoped for, but he will come. He is a
man of resource and he never gives up."
In the meantime Corporal Jenkins was in a very bad way half way up the
mountain side. He had passed one torrent while yet it was only half
full, and now it was so full that he could not even retreat with his
mule caravan. In front was another torrent that it would have been sheer
insanity to attempt to cross--a stream fifty feet wide, rushing down
through a gorge with a violence that carried great stones with it, some
of them weighing many tons, while the water was almost completely filled
with a tangled mass of whirling trees that had been torn up by the
roots by the on rush of the waters.
"We'll have to go back, Corporal," suggested one of the men.
"We can't go back," he replied. "That last stream we crossed is as full
as this one now. Besides we must get these supplies to camp."
"But how?"
"I don't know how! Shut up and let me think the thing out."
After his thinking the corporal ordered the caravan to leave the trail
and work its way up the mountain in the space between the two streams.
It was a difficult and sometimes a perilous ascent. There were cliffs in
the way around and over which a passage was partly found and partly
forced by great labor. At some places the pathway was so steep that no
mule could carry his load up it. Here the corporal divided the loads and
led the mules up with only one-fourth or one-fifth of the burden upon
each. Then unloading that he took the animals back again and placed
another portion of their load upon their backs, repeating the journey as
often as might be necessary. As he had twenty mules in his pack train it
sometimes took half a day to get over thirty or forty yards of distance
in this tedious and toilsome fashion. But at any rate there was
progress made.
Often, too, there were great detours to be made in order to get around
obstacles that could not be overcome. Thus day after day was consumed in
the tedious climb up the mountain. The corporal knew how anxiously his
commanding officer was awaiting his coming, but he could not hurry it
more than he was already doing.
"What's your plan, Corporal?" asked one of the men when a bivouac was
made one evening.
"Simple enough," answered the corporal. "When you've served in the
mountains as long as I have, you'll know that every mountain torrent has
a beginning somewhere up towards the top of the mountain. I'm simply
following this one up to find its head waters and go around them."
The raging stream had grown much smaller now, as the caravan neared its
place of beginning, and the next morning the corporal found a place at
which he thought it safe to attempt a crossing. It was perilous work,
but after an hour or two of struggle all the mules and all the men were
got safely to the farther side.
The corporal knew that he was much higher up the mountain than the site
of Camp Venture. But it was no part of his plan to descend until he had
passed the head waters of all other streams and reached a point directly
south of the camp and above it. So he proceeded westward around the
mountain.
Without knowing what the trusty corporal's plans or proceedings would
be, the lieutenant felt that he was likely to have difficulty in
locating the camp. So he ordered a brush fire kept burning night and
day, so that the smoke of it by day and the light of it by night might
be seen from a great distance.
Finally, exactly ten days from the time of the corporal's departure, his
caravan was seen slowly and toilsomely descending the mountain toward
the camp.
A great shout of gladness went up from all the men, who had tasted
nothing but meat for a week past, and Tom, seizing his rifle started up
the hill at a rapid pace to show the corporal the easiest way down the
steep mountain side.
When the corporal reached camp the lieutenant complimented him highly
upon his skill and success in overcoming difficulties, and declared his
purpose to make a commendatory report of his conduct of the expedition.
"But how did you happen to come to us from up the mountain instead of
from down the mountain?" asked the lieutenant, while eagerly devouring
an ash cake.
"Why," said the corporal, "when I found my road up the mountain blocked
by an impassable torrent, I remembered some of my old soldier
experiences and I turned them around. I remembered that when we camp on
hills and set out in search of water the rule is to keep always going
down hill, because that's the way water runs. If you keep on doing that
you'll come to water after awhile. So, turning that around, I said to
myself, 'all this water comes from up the mountain. The only way to get
past it is to go clear up to where it comes from.' That's what I did,
and then I marched straight around the high mountain till I saw your
brush fire last night about midnight. I wanted to come right on, but
both the men and the mules were exhausted by a terrific day's work and
besides it was too dark to see the difficult way; so I bivouacked for
the night and started down the hill between daylight and sunrise. There,
Lieutenant, that's the whole story, and it isn't much of a story, at
that."
"Well, I don't know," said the lieutenant, meditatively. "It's enough of
a story at any rate to make a sergeant out of Corporal Jenkins, if my
recommendations carry any weight at headquarters. Corporal, you have
conducted this affair in a masterly manner, with zeal, skill and
discretion. My report will mention these facts."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," was all that the soldier could say. But it was
quite enough.