THE VIGIL ENDED
While night still hung black in the forest Carol rose up from her
sleepless vigil, faint with hunger and cramped and stiff with cold, and
went out into the open again to look for the morning. The wind was dying
down and the sky had changed from black to deep purple-gray,—the
twilight of earliest dawn. Back she went to her post.
“It’s beginning to be morning, dear,” she said softly. “You won’t have
to lie here much longer now. They must come soon.”
The boy did not seem to hear. She put her arms about him again, her head
drooping with weariness, and ringing with hunger-faintness; and waited
till daybreak should find its way among the trees and give her light to
search for more wood. Suddenly came a sound,—a call. She sprang up and
listened. It came again. Exhaustion was all forgotten. She scrambled up
the bank and dashed through the trees. Dawn was coming quickly, and in
the gray light two figures appeared far above her at the top of the last
slide.
“Hello! hello!” rang out, and lanterns were flourished.
“Here I am! Here! here!” she called, and waved her arms.
“We’re coming!” one of them shouted back. He did not wait to call a
second time. Down he shot, clearing the whole length of the slide in
what seemed but a moment.
Carol held out both hands to him as he reached her side. And after the
long agony of the night came her cry of relief.
“Oh, Court! Court! I’m so glad! I thought you’d never come!”
“Carol! Thank God you’re safe!” Down went the lantern. Court gathered up
her cold hands in his strong, tight grasp that hurt yet comforted, and
looked down into her face with anxious intensity, as if not even touch
and sight could convince him that he had found her at last.
But Carol withdrew her hands from that kind clasp and turned away. She
could have fought on bravely had she been called to endure still the
loneliness and fear, the torture of seeing the pain that she could not
ease; but this coming of safety, comfort, protection, was breaking down
her fortitude. A great lump had risen in her throat; her lips were
trembling. The tears had started; she would not let them fall. But that
strange faintness was coming back. Suddenly she felt a strong arm around
her. Court was holding her, steadying her.
“Carol! You poor little girl! It’s nearly killed you!” he cried. “What
is it? Tell me!”
“Are Jean and Cecily safe?” she asked, her voice quivering.
“Yes, they’re all safe. I didn’t get home till nearly midnight. I
started right off as soon as I heard,—but it’s taken all this time!
Carol, tell me, where’s Douglas? Is he badly hurt?”
“Come down to him,—quick! I think he’s dying.”
“Where is he?” Court’s voice was low and awed.
“Down there. He’s fearfully hurt and he’s growing weaker. He’s almost
unconscious again. Oh, he’s suffered so! Come—quick! I can’t leave him.”
“This way!” Court called to the guide, and taking up his lantern, he
followed Carol.
She led him to the spot where Douglas lay.
“I’ve been trying all night to keep him alive!” she whispered. “I
thought he’d die before anybody came!”
Court knelt down beside the boy and took his hand. The closed eyes
opened. “Do you know me, old man?” he asked, his fingers on the flagging
pulse.
“Yes,” came faintly.
“That’s right!” Court gave Carol a reassuring smile. “How do you feel,
old fellow?”
“I—had a—fall.”
“Yes, I know you did. And you feel pretty mean now, don’t you? Well,
we’re going to take you right home and patch you up. Only we’ll give you
some breakfast first.”
“Do you think he’ll live?” whispered Carol.
“I’m _sure_ he will.”
“He’ll pull through all right,” said the guide, who had joined them, and
was studying the boy with an experienced eye.
“How are you going to get him home?” Carol asked anxiously.
“Oh, easy enough,” said Court. “Tom Clinton and some other fellows are
on their way up the brook to meet us.” He turned to Douglas. “Now, old
man, we’re going to make you as comfortable as we can while we’re
waiting for the others. Say, Harry, spread those blankets down here and
we’ll put him on them.” While the guide was unfolding the blankets,
Court fell to plundering the basket which the man had slipped from his
shoulders. Mrs. Brook’s cloak came out first and he put it around Carol.
“Oh, don’t!” she protested. “I don’t need it. Put it over Douglas,
_please_!”
“Now, see here! I’m captain of this ship! I’ve brought my poncho for
Douglas. But I’m going to attend to _you_ first. He’s a good deal warmer
than you are!” Court fastened the cloak under her chin. “Have you gone
all night with nothing over that thin thing?” he asked. “Didn’t you have
a sweater?”
“I put it around his feet.”
“And never stopped to think of yourself! Carol, you’re _sure_ you’re not
hurt? Just worn out, isn’t that all?” he questioned anxiously, for the
whiteness of her face had startled him.
“Yes, that’s all. It’s been such a dreadful night!”
“Tony didn’t come back to trouble you, did he?”
“Oh, no!” she answered; but her face told its story of suffering.
“It’s been enough to kill you!” Court declared fiercely. “But it’s over
now. I’ve got you safe. I’m going to take care of you. Now I’m going to
start you on your breakfast.”
She smiled up at him gratefully, but she asked, “Can’t you give Douglas
something right away?”
“You’re both of you going to have some coffee as soon as we can heat it
up,” he answered. He brought the famished girl a package of sandwiches,
but she could not eat until she saw Douglas laid on his new bed.
Court stooped over the lad. “Now, then,” he said to the guide; “You take
his feet while I lift him.”
“Oh, be careful!” cried Carol. “His leg’s broken.”
“We’ll look out for it,” said Court. “Hello! Why, if you haven’t got it
into splints! How did you learn to be such a surgeon? They’re first-rate
splints! Now it won’t hurt him a bit to move him.”
But it did hurt badly, and the boy’s groan and look of suffering as he
was lifted gently, made Court’s face betray the anxiety he was trying
his best to hide.
“Poor boy! You won’t have to wait much longer now,” said Carol. They
wrapped Douglas in the warm poncho. A new fire was soon built and the
coffee heating; and seeing her patient well cared for, Carol could enjoy
her own breakfast. “Oh, but it does taste good!” she said.
“Poor girl! You must be starved!” said Court. “You haven’t had a
mouthful since your lunch yesterday, have you?”
“No, not since yesterday noon.”
“And it’s after four now!” he exclaimed. “Sixteen hours!”
“I was growing pretty faint,” she admitted.
“It was fearful for you! Carol, you’re the bravest girl that ever lived!
To think of your going down those awful slides alone! Risking your life,
and staying at your post all night! You beat all the _men_ I ever heard
of!” He was far gone in heroine worship, and he listened eagerly while
Carol told her story.
“We’ll catch Tony yet,” said Court. “I’ll see they get a warrant out for
his arrest. Hurry up that coffee, Harry!”
“She’s het up pretty good now, I guess,” said the guide. He lifted the
can from the fire.
Court filled a cup and gave it to Carol.
“Give it to Douglas first,” she said.
“No, you take this. I’ve got to get out my tin spoon to feed him. Keep
her cup filled up, Harry!”
Court knelt down beside Douglas, with his tin cup and spoon. Slowly and
carefully he fed him, and a few spoonfuls brought the boy back to fuller
consciousness.
The waiting time was over soon. Carol’s quick ears suddenly caught the
sound of distant voices, and she sprang up. “Oh, listen!” she cried.
“They’re coming!”
Court hallooed and was answered. He started down the brook and returned
with Tom Clinton and his relief corps. There was no time to lose. The
rescue party had brought bandages, and with these Court bound up the
boy’s shoulder, which, he noticed, had hung down when he was lifted. A
blanket served for a stretcher, and the guides carried Douglas between
them.
“You’d better let us carry you, too,” said Court to Carol. “It’s an
awfully long tramp and awfully rough.”
“Oh, thank you, but I wouldn’t be carried for the world! I feel ready
for anything now,” said Carol bravely. But long before the journey down
the wild, rocky brook was over, she was glad of the strong arms that
came to her help, and at every difficult place carried her safely
across.
It was a weary road, but Rainbow Falls was reached at last, and soon
they were at the end of the trail. Awaiting them was a stage, which had
been turned into a temporary ambulance, and the doctor who had come with
it to meet them received the suffering boy into his care.