INTO THE GREAT UNKNOWN
For a few seconds Reynolds stared upon his new discovery. Then he
examined the walls elsewhere, and no matter where he looked, he found
nuggets of gold protruding from the earth. His excitement now became
intense, and seizing a burning stick he began to explore the cave.
Everywhere it was the same. The earth beneath his feet was even filled
with nuggets, and, they gleamed upon him from overhead. He felt that
he must be dreaming, or else his terrible experiences of late had
turned his brain. Could it be possible that he had accidentally
stumbled upon a vein of the precious metal, rich beyond the wildest
bounds of imagination! He put his hand to his face, and even pinched
himself to make sure that he was awake.
When the brand had flickered out, he walked back to the fire and sat
down. He tried to calm himself that he might think over his wonderful
discovery. The rain still pelted down outside, and the wind roared
among the trees. But Reynolds paid no attention to them now. He saw
nothing but gold, heaps of it, piled high before him, and himself the
richest man in the whole world. What would not the miners of Big Draw
give to know of this discovery! How they would flock to the place,
followed by thousands of others. What a change would ensue in a short
time. No longer would it be the desolate wilderness, but alive with
frantic human beings.
But suppose he should never live to tell the tale? He was lost, far
from any habitation, and with only enough food for a most meagre
breakfast. No, he must not die. It was necessary for him to live, to
make his great discovery known; and to reap the rich harvest himself.
And Glen! Again he thought of her. He would be able to go to her a
rich man instead of almost a beggar. He smiled as he recalled what he
had said to Frontier Samson. The prospector had given him his choice
between gold and the girl, and he had chosen the latter. His love had
not changed in the least degree, but why should he not have the gold as
well as the girl?
Reynolds sat for a long time that night absorbed in deep thought. He
slept upon the ground, and his dreams were a jumble of wild animals,
gold, and a beautiful girl. He awoke early and noted with satisfaction
that the storm had ceased, and the sky was clear. Having eaten the
last of the salmon, he left the cave and viewed his surroundings in
order to locate his bearings should he ever return to the place. He
believed that he was about half way up the highest hill in the
immediate vicinity, and that he could not fail to miss seeing it from a
distance. He noticed that the hill formed the apex of a triangular
formation, while two hills, one to the right and the other to left,
served as base corners. He was sure that he could remember such
guiding marks, and would be able to return to the cave without any
difficulty.
It was with a feeling of reluctance that he at length left the cave and
again assayed the climb up the side of the hill, which became steeper
and more precipitous the farther he advanced. At times he was forced
to pull himself up by means of roots and small trees, so his progress
was accordingly slow. The sun was hot, and often he grew faint from
heat and fatigue. He watched for any sign of life, of rabbit, bird, or
squirrel. But the place seemed deserted, and even the plant life was
scant and scrubby. A fierce thirst came upon him, for no water had
passed his lips since the previous day.
Thus hour after hour he toiled upward. He did not dare to return to
the brook below, for that would mean certain death. It had to be ever
on until the summit was reached, and what then? His courage almost
failed as he thought of what that barren peak might have in store for
him. He had been disappointed so often, surely Fate would not abandon
him now after he had made such a fierce fight for life.
When but a hundred yards from his goal, he paused for a minute's
respite. He turned his bloodshot eyes to the sky. A great eagle was
soaring majestically athwart the blue. It seemed to mock him by its
easy flight. It angered him as he followed its every movement. Why
should a mere bird have such freedom of motion, while man was so
helpless? To the eagle, distance was nothing; it laughed the highest
mountain peak to scorn, and its food was wherever its fancy led. He
suddenly thought of the gold he had discovered. In the world of
civilization what a power it would mean. What could it not do toward
providing ease and reputation? And of what use was that treasure to
him now? It was of no more value than the stones beneath his feet, and
he would gladly have given it all for one good meal and a draught of
refreshing water.
The eagle was still soaring overhead, free and buoyant. It was nearer
now, wheeling closer and closer to Reynolds as he clung like a snail to
the side of the hill. And he was made in the image of God! The
thought stung him. Why should such things be? Instantly there flashed
into his mind a picture he had often seen. It was the side of a steep
cliff, and there a shepherd was rescuing a sheep from its perilous
position. The man was clinging with His left hand to a crevice in the
rock, while with His right He was reaching far over to lift up the poor
animal, which was looking up pathetically into the shepherd's loving
face. He knew the meaning of that picture, and it came to him now with
a startling intensity. Why did he think of it? he asked himself.
Although his life was clean, yet Reynolds was not what might be called
a religious man. He was not in the habit of praying, and he seldom
went to church. But something about that picture appealed to him as he
crouched on that burning hillside. Was there One who would help him
out of his present difficulty? He believed there was, for he had been
so taught as a little child. He remembered the Master's words, "Ask,
and ye shall have." "Here, then, is a chance to test the truthfulness
of that saying," a voice whispered.
"I shall not do it," Reynolds emphatically declared. "I have not
prayed for so long, that I'm not going to act the hypocrite now, and
cry for help when I'm in a tight corner. I daresay He would assist me,
but I am ashamed to ask Him. If I should only think of a friend when I
am in trouble I should consider myself a mean cur, and unfit to have
the friendship of anyone. And that's about how I stand with Him, so I
do not consider myself worthy of His help."
Although Reynolds reasoned in this manner, yet that picture of The Good
Shepherd inspired him. He could not get it out of his mind as he lay
there watching the eagle soaring nearer and nearer.
"I wonder what that bird is after?" he mused. "It is coming this way,
and it seems to be getting ready to alight. Perhaps it has a nest
somewhere on this hill."
This thought aroused him. An eagle's nest! It was generally built on
some high rocky place, and why should there not be one here? And if
so, there might be eggs, and eggs would mean food for a starving man.
Eagerly and anxiously he watched the bird now, hoping and longing that
it would alight close to where he was crouching. Neither was he
disappointed, for in a few minutes the eagle drove straight for the
hill, about fifty yards above, and landed upon a rocky ledge. Seizing
a stick lying near, with cat-like agility, Reynolds sprang forward, and
hurried to the spot where the bird had alighted. From what he had
heard and read about eagles he surmised that a struggle lay ahead of
him, so he clutched the stick firmly as he advanced.
It took him but a few minutes to reach the place, and as he paused and
looked keenly around for the nest, an infuriated mass of great wings
and feathers hurled itself upon him. Taken by surprise, Reynolds
staggered back, and lifted his stick to ward off the attack. How he
saved himself from being torn to pieces by the talons and beak of that
angry bird he never could tell. It was a mystery to him that he was
able to defend himself at all. But do it he did, and used his stick in
such a skilful manner that he kept the creature from tearing at his
face. Fortunately he had a good footing, which enabled him to retreat
at each desperate onslaught, and to meet the bird with a furious blow
as it wheeled and circled close above his head. But he realised that
he could not endure the strain much longer, for he was weak through
lack of food and hard climbing. The energy of the eagle, on the other
hand, seemed just as keen as ever, and it might continue the fight for
hours. Reynolds grew desperate as he thought of this, and he was
determined that he should not leave his body there as food for his
opponent.
He watched as the bird again circled and once more swept to the attack.
But he was ready, and as it swooped close enough he threw his entire
remaining strength into one great swinging blow. The stick struck the
eagle fair on the head with a resounding crash, and so great was the
force of the impact that the cudgel snapped like a pipestem, and the
broken end hurtled over the ledge. The eagle's fight was done. It
swerved from its course, and frantically tried to recover itself. But
all in vain. Far out over the hillside it swung, and then a helpless
and inert mass, it dropped down, and crashed into the tops of the firs
and jack-pines, which lifted their heads like pointed spears to receive
the victim.
Reynolds watched until the bird had disappeared. Then he breathed a
deep sigh of relief, and examined his wounds. His hands were bleeding,
and such clothes as he had were literally torn into shreds. He was so
weak that he could hardly stand, and he sank down upon the ground.
"How long will this keep up?" he panted. "What else lies before me? I
am a poor specimen of a human being now, and unfitted for another
encounter of any kind. This was my own fault, though. That poor devil
I just sent to its doom was merely acting in self-defence. But the
survival of the fittest is the law of the wilderness just as in the
ways of so-called civilization. That bird had what I needed; and that
settles it."
This turned his mind upon the nest, which he suspected was somewhere
near. In another minute he had found it, a mass of sticks, in the
midst of which was a hollow lined with wild grass, and lying there were
three white eggs. Eagerly he seized one, and held it in his hand. Was
it fresh? he wondered, or was it ready to be hatched?
Drawing forth his pocket-knife, he perforated each end of the egg, and
smelled the contents. It was fresh, having been recently laid. In
another instant it was at his parched lips, and never did he remember
having tasted anything half as refreshing. Then he looked longingly at
the other two.
"No, I must not eat them now," he told himself. "I shall need them for
supper and breakfast. The Lord only knows when I shall get anything
more."
The mention of the Lord brought back to him the picture of The Good
Shepherd rescuing the lost sheep. "Strange, very strange," he mused,
as he picked up the eggs and continued his climb. "Can it be possible
that the Lord had anything to do with that eagle coming here just when
I was about all in, and ready to drop from hunger and thirst? I am not
ashamed, anyway, to confess my gratitude, even though I disliked the
idea of praying."
A few minutes later he stood on the top of the hill, a bleak, desolate
spot, rocky, and devoid of the least sign of vegetation. But this
mattered nothing to him now, for his eyes rested almost immediately
upon a silver gleam away to the left. It was water, and a river at
that! An exclamation of joy leaped from his lips, as from that lonely
peak he viewed the river of his salvation. Where it led, he did not
know, but surely along that stream he would find human beings, able and
willing to succor him.
Forgotten now was his weariness, and a new hope possessed his soul. He
could not expect to reach the river that afternoon, for several valleys
and small hills intervened. But he could go part of the way and on the
morrow complete the journey. Carefully guarding his two precious eggs,
he hurried down the opposite side of the hill as fast as it was
possible, and night found him by the side of a small wood-enshrouded
lake. Here he stopped, drank of the cool refreshing water, and built a
small fire. Finding a smooth stone, he washed it clean, and heating it
thoroughly, he was enabled to fry one of the eggs upon the surface. In
the morning the other was treated in a similar manner, and thus
strengthened, but his hunger not appeased, he sped onward.
This last lap of his journey to the river was a trying one. Reynolds
made it more difficult by his feverish impatience, and when about the
middle of the afternoon he heard the ripple of water, and caught the
first gleam through the trees of its sparkling surface, he was
completely exhausted, and had only sufficient strength to drag his
weary form to the river's bank. A refreshing drink of the ice-cold
water and a rest of a few minutes revived him. The stream was swift,
far swifter than he had anticipated. But this encouraged him, for if
once launched upon its surface it would bear him speedily out of that
desolate wilderness.
A craft of some kind was necessary, so searching around, he found
several good-sized trees, stripped and bare, which had been brought
down stream by the spring floods, and left stranded upon the bank.
With considerable difficulty he managed to fashion these into a rude
raft, binding all together with strong, pliable willow withes. As a
boy he had often made rafts, and the knowledge acquired then served him
in good stead now.
Finding a stout pole, he stepped upon the raft, and to his delight
found that it would easily bear his weight. Pushing it from the shore,
it was soon caught by the strong current and borne rapidly down stream.
The steering was an easy matter, so, sitting upon the raft, he gave
himself up to the luxury of this new mode of travel. It was such a
great relief from his fearful wandering through the woods and climbing
the hills, that but for his pangs of hunger he would have been quite
happy.
All through, the night the raft swung on its way, the plaything of the
current which kept it clear of bars and rocks. Reynolds did not dare
to sleep, for he could not tell what lay ahead. It might be a
dangerous rapid, or at any minute he might come to some camp along the
shore, and it would be necessary to be wide awake and alert.
But nothing happened, and morning found him still floating onward into
the great unknown. He was ravenously hungry, and once he ran the raft
ashore and gathered a number of willow twigs. These he gnawed as he
once more continued his voyage. This, however, was poor food for a
starving man, and he was well aware that unless he could obtain
something more substantial he must miserably perish. Game was
plentiful along the river, and several times he saw moose and bears,
while early that morning he ran close to a flock of wild ducks. But
their presence only mocked him now, weaponless as he was.
This day was a most trying one, for about the middle of the forenoon it
began to rain, and Reynolds was wet to the skin as he sat huddled upon
the raft. Anxiously he peered forward, hoping that around every bend
something more cheering than the monotonous trees would meet his eyes.
But hour after hour it was just the same, and the rain continued
without any cessation. Would the river never end? he asked himself
over and over again. Whither was it bearing him, anyway? At times the
sinuous water appeared like a demon, carrying him on to destruction.
Its gurgle and ripple sounded in his ears like mocking laughter, and
the great brooding forest in its intense silence seemed in league with
the stream. Of what avail were all his mighty efforts? He had escaped
from the tangle of the forest, only to be lured to ruin by the river.
The afternoon waned, and night drew near, and still the raft swept
onward. Reynolds felt that he could endure the strain but little
longer. He was chilled to the bone, and cramped from his huddled
position. He must land, and get some circulation in his body,
providing he had any strength left.
He was about to run the raft ashore, when to his great delight it
suddenly shot forth from its forest prison into the open expanse of a
broad and silent lake. Reynolds staggered painfully to his feet and
looked around. He could only see a short distance, as a heavy mist lay
over the water. His eyes scanned the shore, but no sign of human
habitation could he behold. There was nothing except the same scene of
desolation which had been his companion for weary days.
The raft was motionless now, some distance out upon the lake. Slowly
Reynolds forced it to the shore, and secured it in a little cove.
"I might as well stay here for the night," he muttered. "It may be
clear to-morrow which will enable me to see farther. Oh, for something
to eat!"
With much difficulty he started a fire, for the wood was wet, and then
warmed himself before the cheerful blaze. It was not raining so hard
now, for which he was thankful. He tried to dry his rags of clothes by
hanging them on sticks near the fire. His boots were off his feet,
with the uppers alone clinging to his ankles. Removing these, he
examined them. Then an idea flashed into his mind. He had heard of
men eating their boots in their extremity, and why should not he! It
was worth the try, at any rate.
It took him but a second to whip out his knife and cut a piece from the
top of one of the boots. This he washed clean in the lake, and tasted
it. Only one on the extreme verge of starvation can in any manner
comprehend what even a portion of a boot means. There is some
nourishment there, as Reynolds soon found. Almost ravenously he chewed
that piece of leather, extracting from it whatever life-giving
substance it contained. When it had been converted to mere pulp, he
helped himself to another piece. He was in a most desperate situation,
but if he could sustain his strength for another night and day he
believed that his life would be spared. Surely along that lake he
would find human beings, whether Indians or whites he did not care, who
would give him food.
He awoke early the next morning, and having partaken his breakfast of
another piece of boot, he pushed off his raft. There was only one way
for him to go, and that was with the breeze which was drawing down the
lake. The mist was now lifting, and although he strained his eyes, he
could see no sign of life. He had to pole the raft now, and in order
to do so he was forced to keep close to the shore where the water was
shallow.
Thus all through the morning and far on into the afternoon he urged the
raft forward with all the strength at his command. There were so many
curves to the shore that following these lengthened the voyage. From
point to point he moved, each time to be disappointed as he looked
ahead and saw nothing but trees and water.
The sun was hot, and the perspiration poured down his face. But with
the energy of despair he drove his pole again and again into the water.
As the afternoon waned, and night drew near, the limit of his endurance
was reached, and he knew that he could do no more. He had struggled
for life, but to no purpose. Rest was all that he cared for now. His
head began to swim, and he sank exhausted upon the raft. And there he
lay, face downward, while the raft drifted at its own sweet will.
Presently a breeze sprang up and cooled the air. But it did not affect
Reynolds in the least. He had fought to the last grain of strength,
and when that left him he was beyond all sense of time, place, and
feeling.