HOW "DADDY" CAME BACK
In order to see more of the country Phil took a notion to change his
course while heading for the home camp. This turned out to be another of
those little things that occasionally happen by accident, but which
afterwards seem to have been inspired.
He had not been walking along more than ten or twelve minutes before he
came to a sudden pause.
"What under the sun could that have been," he asked himself, listening
intently; "sounded as near like a regular groan as anything could be."
Ridiculous as it might seem, Phil even thought of the suffering moose,
and wondered whether the distressed animal could have taken shelter in
that thick copse, to moan with pain. Then again he heard the strange
sound.
"It must be some one's lying there, and in pain!" Phil observed, though
the idea gave him a thrill of apprehension.
He stepped closer, and when for the third time the same type of noise
welled out of the bushes he made bold to call:
"Who's there? Do you need any help?"
There was a rustling sound. Then the bushes parted, and he saw a man's
face peering at him. Phil could not remember ever having seen that face
before, and yet it struck him that he ought to be able to give a good
guess who the other was going to turn out to be. He had Mazie in his
mind just then; her "daddy" was the only man known to be around that
neighborhood.
The other beckoned to him, and as Phil approached he went on to say, in
a voice that was half muffled, both with pain and anxiety:
"Oh! I'm glad that you've come, boy. My leg is broken, and I've got to
the point where I can't seem to drag myself another yard. I'm hungry
too, and crazy for a drink of water. But I was just making up my mind I
might as well give up, and be done with it; because if she's dead
there's no use of my living!"
That settled one thing in Phil's mind. The man was Mazie's father.
Already the boy could see that he did not have the look of a villain.
Pain and want had made deep lines on his face, but somehow Phil believed
the other was all right.
He could easily imagine what the father must have suffered both in body
and mind, with his little daughter lost in that big wilderness, and a
broken leg preventing him from searching for her, as he would have
wanted to.
Evidently he must be relieved in his mind as speedily as possible.
"Do you mean Mazie?" Phil asked.
The man stared hard at him. Then, as hope struggled into his almost
broken heart he burst out with:
"Why do you ask me that? How do you know her name? Oh! boy, boy, tell me
she is safe--that you or some of your friends have found my darling
child!"
At that Phil nodded quickly in the affirmative, and the man fell
backwards as though about to faint from sheer joy. But it was not so,
for he struggled up once more to his former sitting posture, as Phil
bent over him.
"Safe, Mazie safe after all! Oh! it seems that I must be dreaming, it is
too good to be true! Tell me in plain words, I beg of you, boy!"
"She is at the cabin with us, and perfectly well," Phil went on to say,
plainly. "I found her crying in the woods. Are you her 'daddy'?"
"Yes, and I have been trying to crawl all the way to the cabin, dragging
this wretched leg after me," the man told him; "it seemed as if it would
kill me with the pain, but as long as I was able I kept it up, for
something seemed to tell me my only hope was there. I meant to beg you
to scour the woods, and call her name everywhere. Oh! it is a wonder my
hair hasn't turned white with what I have suffered, mostly in mind, for
I could stand the rest without whimpering. Mazie is safe! Oh! I see now
what a fearful wrong I have done. I vow to repair it as soon as I can
travel."
"Will you let me take a look at your leg?" asked the boy.
"Only too gladly, if you think you can do me any good," he was instantly
told. "My one longing now is to get to where the child is. To have her
in my arms I would endure any torture there could be."
"I happen to know a little about such things, and perhaps could do you
some good," Phil went on to tell him. "Then there happens to be a little
spring back a short distance for I had a drink there, and the water's
icy cold. I'll fetch you some before I hurry to the cabin to get help."
"You are kind, boy; what shall I call you?" asked the man; and evidently
from his looks, speech, and manners he was a gentleman, Phil realized.
"My name is Phil Bradley," he said, as he bent down to see what he could
do for the injured limb; "there are four of us up here for a little
outing. I happen to own a patch of ground bordering on Lake Surprise,
and that birch bark lodge is on it."
The man muttered something to himself, and Phil thought he caught the
one word "fool." Perhaps he was taking himself to task for acting so on
impulse when first discovering the coming of the strangers, whom he must
have believed were persons whom he had reason to distrust.
All that could be left until later for discussion among himself and his
three chums; Phil felt that his present business was to succor the
wounded man.
He found that there was a compound fracture of the bones of the lower
limb, not far from the ankle. The man must have caught his foot somehow,
and pitched forward heavily.
"Once we get you to the cabin, sir, and I'm sure I can set the bones,
and ease your pain greatly," he told the other, presently.
"That satisfies me," the man remarked, closing his lips as though he
felt that he could stand anything, now that Mazie was safe. "Please make
all the haste you possibly can. Minutes will seem like hours to me until
I feel her dear little arms around my neck."
"First I must get you a drink," Phil told him; and without waiting to
see or hear anything more he darted off, all his own weariness utterly
forgotten in this one desire to render first aid to the wounded.
He had no trouble doubling on his own trail, and thus finding the
spring. Since there was no other means for carrying water Phil dipped
his hat in, and was soon back alongside the injured man, who drank
greedily of the cold fluid, and seemed greatly refreshed in consequence.
"Now I'll run in the direction of the cabin," Phil observed, after he
had in this fashion relieved the pressing needs of the other.
"Are you sure you can find me again?" asked the man, anxiously. "If you
are in doubt call out, and I'll try to answer. I heard shouts a little
while back, but my throat was too dry for me to make a sound above a
groan."
"You heard me having a little circus with an angry bull moose that had
me backed up behind a tree," Phil told him; "but never fear about my
being able to come straight here. I'm woodsman enough for that, and take
my bearings as I go. Look for us to come inside of an hour, sir."
With that he was off on a run. Just as he had said with such assurance,
he had his bearings, and knew just which way to go in order to reach
home. Before twenty minutes had elapsed Phil burst upon those comrades
who were clustered in front of the cabin, watching the little girl do
some cunning dance steps which she could hardly have learned up there in
that wilderness.
Judging from his excited condition that Phil had met with an adventure
of some sort, the boys began to ask numerous questions.
"Never mind what it's all about, fellows," he told them. "I want Ethan
and X-Ray to come with me right away. Lub, you look after the cabin, and
Mazie. Ethan, fetch your camp hatchet; and we will need some ends of
rope. Hurry, both of you! I'll explain after we're on the run!"
The blank expression on poor Lub's face told better than words what he
thought of being left out in the cold that way. Still, he was so
accustomed to doing what he was told that such a thing as rebellion
never once entered his head. Besides, he must have realized that some
one had to stay with the child. And when it came to sprinting, as Phil
seemed to think was going to be necessary, Lub was not built for quick
action or long continued running.
Phil had hardly time to draw a dozen long breaths before the other boys
announced that they were ready to accompany him.
Wonder was written in big letters all over their faces. The little Phil
had said must certainly have aroused their curiosity until it reached
fever heat.
"Now, for goodness' sake open up, and tell what all this is about,
please, Phil!" begged X-Ray Tyson, as they ran along in company.
It was no time to even mention anything concerning the stirring
adventure with that stubborn and combative moose bull. Later on he could
relate the story, and perhaps show them the pictures he had taken, to
prove his marvelous tale.
"Man up in the woods here a ways, with a broken leg!" he started to say.
"Whee! is that so?" exclaimed Ethan.
"Mazie's 'daddy' for a cookey!" cried X-Ray, always the first to alight
on a solution to a puzzling question.
"Yes, that's who he is," Phil went on, jerking out his words somewhat,
because he was using up his wind in running. "He broke it while hunting
for the child; and has been nigh crazy ever since. Struck him he might
get help from us. Started to actually drag himself all the way there.
Petered out in the end. Bad shape, too, but think I can pull him through
all right!"
"You want us to help get him home; is that it, Phil?" demanded Ethan.
"Yes, we've just got to do it. Poor fellow needs lots of attention. He'd
likely die if left much longer. I think gangrene would set in, and
finish him. Glad I fetched along my little medicine case, with bandages
and such things. Thought one of us might get into trouble, and need it.
Handy thing to have around in the woods."
"It sure is," agreed X-Ray Tyson; "but how can we carry a man all the
way to the cabin, Phil? If he's that bad hurt it's going to be a hard
job."
"Huh! see this hatchet?" demanded Ethan, flourishing the article in
question before the eyes of the other. "Well, with that sharp edge it
won't be a hard thing to tinker up some kind of stretcher. That's what
Phil had in mind when he told you to fetch some rope ends along."
"Just what I did," Phil assured them; "but hold on now, and save your
breath for running; you'll need it all. We'll get there in ten minutes
more, I think."
About that time had elapsed when Phil sighted the spot where he had left
the wounded man. He knew it from the land marks he had impressed on his
mind. And both going and coming the boy had maintained a constant watch,
so as to make sure that he continued in the direct line he had laid out.
"There he is!" he suddenly exclaimed, as he saw a hand feebly waving
from the covert of bushes.
"Oh! I'm glad you've gotten back again!" the wounded man told Phil. "It
has seemed ages since you left; but I watched the sun, and knew that the
hour had not passed that you said it might take. These are your friends,
are they?"
"Yes, Ethan Allan and Raymond Tyson. We mean to get busy, and make some
sort of a litter that will do to carry you on. Let's see, you begin and
cut some poles, Ethan."
As the boy with the camp hatchet knew just what sort to select, he was
soon busily engaged in chopping down small saplings. As these were
trimmed of branches, and cut in proper lengths the other boys began to
splice them together.
After all it was not a hard task. Although possibly none of them had
ever built such a thing as a stretcher, they knew in a general way how
it must be done in order to accommodate a wounded man. There were four
handles by means of which it could be gripped and carried. These two
main braces of course were extra strong, and made of hickory. Then the
others were shorter and not so thick, so that the body of the stretcher
might bend somewhat.
When the thing was completed the boys found some hemlock browse, with
which they made as soft a bed as possible.
"Now, if you can stand for it to let us lift you, we'll soon be on our
way," Phil went on to say to the injured man.
"I can stand anything but continued suspense," the other declared,
bravely.
They could see that he had to shut his teeth tightly together in order
to keep back his groans while they were lifting him as gently as they
could. But despite his white face the man tried to smile at Phil when he
saw the look of pity on the boy's face.
"Don't mind me--I'm all right--you're doing famously--I'll never, never
forget it, either!" he said, between breaths.
Phil took one end, that nearer the patient's feet, while the other boys
managed the second pair of handles between them. The stretcher had been
made purposely narrow at the foot, so that one bearer could handle it.
"If you get tired, sing out, Phil, and we'll change all around," X-Ray
remarked.
It was not hard work after all. The man happened to be of medium weight,
and not unusually tall, so with only two short resting spells they
carried their burden all the way to the shore of the lake.
How eagerly he leaned over one side of the stretcher, and strove to
catch a first glimpse of his child, over whose fate he had been almost
losing his mind while lying there, wounded so grievously in the pine
woods.
Lub heard them coming. He stared almost stupidly at first, hardly
understanding what it was they were carrying. Perhaps Lub even thought
it might be that pugnacious half-grown bear cub, which had attacked Phil
in the forest and suffered in consequence.
He quickly understood differently, however. There was a flutter near
him, a swift patter of childish feet flying over the ground, a gasping
cry, and then little Mazie was clasped in the eager arms of the man on
the litter. Regardless of the pain his exertions were causing him the
father pressed his darling to his heart, while a look of supreme joy
came upon his white face.
Then Phil had to bend over and unwind the arms of Mazie from the neck of
"daddy," for he suddenly discovered that what with his emotions and the
agony of his broken limb the man had fainted dead away.