THE CAMP FIRE.
But Nick Ribsam was full of grit, and, though every step he took caused
him pain, he persevered with that grim resolution that was a part of his
nature from his very birth.
After walking some distance he found the soreness and stiffness leaving
him, and he straightened up with something of his natural vim and
elasticity of spirits.
"There's one thing certain," he added, recalling his encounter with the
buck, "I didn't have any one to help me out of that scrape, except the
One who always helps him that helps himself; but I never wanted a friend
more than then, and, if it hadn't been for that oak, it would have been
the last of Nicholas Ribsam."
"There is another thing I have learned," he added, with that glimmer of
humor which was sure to show itself, "I know considerable more than I
did yesterday; I have a good idea of how it feels when a wounded buck
_raises_ you, and, after this, I won't shoot one of the creatures unless
I'm sure of making a better shot than I did a while ago--hallo!"
Well might he utter the last exclamation, for at that moment he came
upon the dead body of the buck, lying as he had fallen on the earth,
when at last he succumbed to the wound received at the hands of Nick
himself.
The boy stopped to examine it, for he was much impressed by the
discovery.
"That came very near ending in the death of us both: nothing but the oak
saved me. I wonder whether I am going right."
He raised his head from his examination, and looked about him, but he
was without the means of judging whether he was following the proper
direction or not. When leaving the scene of his encounter with the deer,
he had taken the course that seemed to be right, without pausing until
he could make himself certain in the matter.
This is pretty sure, in a majority of cases, to lead one astray, but it
so happened with Nick that he headed in a bee-line for the camp, where
the impatient Sam Harper was awaiting him.
But the error came afterward: he toiled forward without any guide, and
soon began to turn to the left, so that he was in reality moving on the
circumference of a large circle, without suspecting how much he wandered
from the true course.
This peculiar mistake is made by many who are lost in the wilderness,
and is supposed to be due to the fact that everybody is either right or
left handed, instead of being ambidextrous as we all ought to be.
One side of the body being stronger than the other, we unconsciously
exert the limb on that side the most, and swerve from a straight line,
unless we have something to direct in the shape of a landmark or
guiding-post.
It was not until Nick had gone a long ways out of the right course that
he suspected his error: the appearance of the camp fire which Sam Harper
had kindled, was what led him to stop and make the best investigation he
could.
There was little else he could appeal to, and he was in doubt as to
whether that had not been kindled by some other party; but fortunately,
while he was debating the matter, he caught the faint but distinct
signal of his friend, who was on the point of starting out to look for
him.
Nick replied, and in the course of half an hour had joined Sam and
Herbert by the fire.
They were relieved beyond expression to see the figure of the sturdy
little fellow, as he emerged from the gloom, and took his seat around
the camp fire.
They noticed that he limped, and knew something unusual must have taken
place to delay him. He had the most attentive of listeners when he
related his dangerous encounter with the buck, which came so nigh ending
his life.
But, happily, he had come out without any serious injury, and the lads
attacked their supper with the keenest of appetites.
"The reason the buck did not kill you," said Herbert, "was because he
was disabled by the wound I gave him."
"He was struck by one bullet only, and that one was mine," said Nick,
who saw no sense in deferring to the absurd claims of the youth.
"Possibly not, but we shall have to examine his carcass to make sure of
that."
"I don't believe we shall have much time to look after dead deer," said
Sam, "for I believe we are in the neighborhood of the very bear we're
looking for."
His friends turned toward him for an explanation of this remark, which
was uttered with all seriousness.
"Bowser has been acting very queer for the last half-hour."
"I think he has acted queer all day," observed Nick.
"I did not consider him of much account until he saved me from the
rattlesnake this afternoon; after that, I'm ready to believe he's got a
good deal more sense than you are willing to think."
Then Sam told his story, and added that the hound had left the vicinity
of the fire several times, and, going some distance in the woods, had
come back, giving utterance to a peculiar whine. At the same time he
looked up in the face of his master with much the same expression as he
did when seeking to warn him of his danger from the poisonous serpent.
"There he goes now!" suddenly exclaimed Sam; "just watch him!"
Bowser had been stretched out near enough to the fire to receive much of
its warmth, and appeared to be asleep. All at once he threw up his head
and sniffed the air, as though he scented something; then he rose, with
a low whine, and trotted straight out in the gloom.
The lads listened attentively for some sound from him, but all remained
still. At the end of ten minutes he came trotting to view again, and
walked straight up to his master, looked up in his face, wagging his
tail, and whined again.
"You can depend on it," said Sam, "he has made some discovery, though I
have no idea what it is."
"Let's follow him and find out."
It was Nick Ribsam who made the proposal; the others were inclined to
hold back, but the plucky little fellow insisted, and it was agreed that
Bowser's secret should be learned by keeping him company to the spot
which he visited.