UNEXPECTED HELP
Never had hours seemed to drag so slowly. There was nothing to be heard
save the drip, drip of the rain in the forest, and the mournful sound of
the wind in the trees. Once Bart went out, and tried to coax into a blaze
the few, faint, remaining embers of the fire, but it was out of the
question. He did have it started, but a swaying of the trees overhead
sent down a shower of drops, and the blaze was completely extinguished.
"Hang the luck!" exclaimed Bart, as he hurried back into the partial
shelter of the tree under which were his chums. "It's all my fault, for
not keeping my compass."
"No, we should have kept ours," declared Fenn. "It's up to us, too."
"Well, then, I shouldn't have seen that mysterious man," went on Bart,
determined to blame himself in some fashion, "and we wouldn't have come
on this wild-goose chase."
"No, it's a good thing you did see him," said Frank. "We want to know
what he's up to."
"I only hope he's as badly off as we are," put in Ned, with a shiver.
"But say, fellows," he went on, in a few minutes, "don't you think it's
slacking up some?"
They all listened. There was no doubt about it, the rain was less in
violence, but the wind was rising.
"Maybe it's going to clear," suggested Fenn.
"If it does, it'll be colder," was Bart's opinion. It did clear, shortly
after that, and there was a decided drop in temperature. Through the
boughs of their shelter the boys could see the stars coming out.
Miserable, and feeling chilled to the bone, the chums crowded close
together.
It soon grew so cold that they had to come out of their shelter to move
about and get their blood in circulation. But this served a good
purpose, for it gave them something to do. At last a faint streak of
light appeared in the east--the herald of the rising sun--and, a little
later, the red rim of Old Sol appeared. Never was the big luminary more
welcome.
"Now for a fire!" cried Ned, "that is, if we can find any dry wood." They
did manage to pick up a few sticks from inside a hollow log where they
had placed them the night before, in anticipation of some emergency, and
soon they were warming themselves in front of the flames. But there was
nothing to eat, and no coffee left, though Bart did manage to make a
potful of what passed for it out of the grounds of what they had used the
night before.
"Well, let's start for camp," proposed Frank, when they had drunk the
hot, if not palatable beverage. "Think you can find the way, Bart?"
"I guess so--I'll try, anyhow."
They started off, getting the direction as best they could by the sun,
and for an hour tramped forward, feeling, on the whole, rather
miserable, but hoping to soon be in camp.
Several hours passed, and they seemed to be no nearer the place where
their tents were. Bart's face wore a puzzled look. He stared around at
the trees, as if they would help him solve the problem. Then he said:
"Fellows, I'm sorry, but I don't know where we are."
"Lost again, do you mean?" asked Ned.
"I don't believe we've been un-lost, if that's the proper term," went on
Bart. "I guess we haven't been on the right path since last night."
"What are we going to do?" asked Frank, helplessly. "I'm as hungry as a
bear."
"And I'm almost frozen," added Bart, with a shiver, "so you're no worse
off than the rest of us," and there was a note of impatience in his
voice.
The chums looked at each other. Their plight was disagreeable, not to
say desperate. They knew that the forest in which they had encamped was
large in extent, and was seldom visited. If they had to spend another
night and day in it the consequences might be serious.
"Well," began Bart, "I suppose the only thing to do is to keep on. We
may strike the right path. There are several trails around here."
He was about to start off again, when they were all startled by hearing
a crackling in the underbrush. It seemed to come from their left.
"Get your gun ready, Bart," whispered Fenn. "Maybe it's a deer."
"Maybe it's that mysterious man," came from Ned.
Bart had raised his rifle, and, a moment later some one emerged from the
thick trees, and stood on the edge of a little clearing, confronting the
boys. The newcomer was a youth of about their own age, and on his back
was evidently a camping pack. He carried a gun, and at the sight of
Bart, with half-raised rifle, the other slowly brought his weapon around
for quick use.
But Fenn, who had been staring at the latest arrival with eager eyes,
suddenly cried out:
"It's William Perry! Don't you know him, fellows? The lad whose mother
took us in at the time of the blizzard--William Perry--whom we found in
a snowbank in New York!"
"William Perry?" faltered Bart, lowering his rifle.
"William Perry?" came from Ned and Frank, in a sort of a chorus.
"The Darewell Chums!" exclaimed the other lad, while wonder spread over
his face. "The Darewell Chums here?"
Fenn started toward William on the run. He was soon shaking hands with
him, and leading him over to where Ned, Frank and Bart stood.
"However in the world did you get here?" asked Bart. "Are you lost,
too?"
"No," replied William Perry, "I'm working for a lumber company, and I'm
on my way from one camp to another. I had to spend last night in the
woods. But what are you doing here?"
"We've been out in the woods all night, too," said Frank. "We're camping,
but we lost our way," and he quickly explained the circumstances.
"Where's your camp?" asked William, who, as my readers will remember,
was the son of the widow in whose house the chums found shelter during
a blizzard that overtook them when they were on a hunting trip, as told
in the second volume of this series entitled "The Darewell Chums in the
City." Later they found William in New York. He had gone to become a
sailor, but had deserted because of a brutal captain, and went into
hiding. He was found half frozen in a snowbank, from which the chums
rescued him, and sent him back home.
"Our camp?" repeated Bart, in answer to William's questions, "I only
wish we knew where it was."
"I mean what's it near?" went on William.
"Oh, the mud volcano," replied Frank, "if you know where that is."
William did, and quickly said so.
"I've been working for this lumber concern for about six months," he
went on, "and I know these woods pretty well. But I always go prepared
to spend a night in them, as I had to last night."
"And can you show us the way to our camp?" asked Ned.
"Sure. You're not more than five miles from it. I guess you've been
going around in a circle. Come on, I'll show you," and with the
confidence of experience William Perry led the way through the woods.
He had appeared in the nick of time.