CHAPTER III

  LOST IN THE WILDERNESS

  The method by which Mr. and Mrs. Ware undertook to teach Henry a senseof responsibility was an increase of work. Founding a new state was nolight matter, and he must do his share. Since he loved to fish, itbecame his duty to supply the table with fish, and that, too, at regularhours, and he also began to think of traps and snares, which he wouldset in the autumn for game. It was always wise for the pioneer to savehis powder and lead, the most valuable of his possessions and thehardest to obtain. Any food that could be procured without its use was awelcome addition.

  But fishing remained his easiest task, and he did it all with a polethat he cut with his clasp knife, a string and a little piece of bentand stiffened wire. He caught perch, bass, suckers, trout, sunfish,catfish, and other kinds, the names of which he did not know. Sometimeswhen his hook and line had brought him all that was needed, and the daywas hot, he would take off his clothing and plunge into the deep, coolpools. Often his friend, Paul Cotter, was with him. Paul was a yearyounger than Henry, and not so big. Hence the larger boy felt himself,in a certain sense, Paul's teacher and protector, which gave him acomfortable feeling, and a desire to help his comrade as much as hecould.

  He taught the smaller lad new tricks in swimming, and scarcely a daypassed when two sunburned, barefooted boys did not go to the river,quickly throw off their clothing, and jump into the clear water. Therethey swam and floated for a long time, dived, and ducked each other, andthen lay on the grass in the sun until they dried.

  "Paul," said Henry once, as they were stretched thus on the bank,"wouldn't you like to have nothing to do, but wander through the woodsjust as you pleased, sleep wherever you wished, and kill game when yougrew hungry, just like the Indians?"

  Henry's eyes were on the black line of the forest, and the blue haze ofthe sky beyond. His spirit was away in the depths of the unknown.

  "I don't know," replied Paul. "I guess a white boy has to become a whiteman, after a while, and they say that the difference between a white manand the Indian is that the white man has to work."

  "But the Indians get along without it," said Henry.

  "No they don't," replied Paul. "We win all the country because we'velearned how to do things while we are working."

  Yet Henry was unconvinced, and his thoughts wandered far into the blackforest and the blue haze.

  The cattle pastured near the deepest of the swimming holes, and it oftenfell to the lot of the boys to bring them into the palisade at sunset.This was a duty of no little importance, because if any of the cattlewandered away into the forest and were lost, they could not be replaced.It was now the latter half of summer, and the grass and foliage werefast turning brown in the heat. Late on the afternoon of one of the veryhottest days Henry and Paul went to the deepest swimming hole. There hadnot been a breath of air stirring since morning; not a blade of grass,not a leaf quivered. The skies burned like a sheet of copper.

  The boys panted, and their clothing, wet with perspiration, clung tothem. The earth was hot under their feet. Quickly they threw off theirgarments and sprang into the water. How cool and grateful it felt! Therethey lingered long, and did not notice the sudden obscurity of the sunand darkening of the southwest.

  A slight wind sprang up presently, and the dry leaves and grass began torustle. There was thunder in the distance and a stroke of lightning. Theboys were aroused, and scrambling out of the water put on theirclothing.

  "A storm's coming," said Henry, who was weatherwise, "and we must getthe cattle in."

  These sons of the forest did not fear rain, but they hurried on theirclothing, and they noticed, too, how rapidly the storm was gathering.The heat had been great for days, and the earth was parched and thirsty.The men had talked in the evening of rain, and said how welcome it wouldbe, and now the boys shared the general feeling. The drought would beended. The thirsty earth would drink deep and grow green again.

  The rolling clouds, drawn like a great curtain over the southwest,advanced and covered all the heavens. The flashes of lightning followedeach other so fast that, at times, they seemed continuous; the forestgroaned as it bent before the wind. Then the great drops fell, and soonthey were beating the earth like volleys of pistol bullets. Fragments ofboughs, stripped off by the wind, swept by. Never had the boys in theirEastern home known such thunder and lightning. The roar of one wasalways in their ears, and the flash of the other always in their eyes.

  The frightened cattle were gathered into a group, pressing closetogether for company and protection. The boys hurried them toward thestockade, but one cow, driven by terror, broke from the rest and rantoward the woods. Agile Henry, not willing to lose a single straggler,pursued the fugitive, and Paul, wishing to be as zealous, followed. Therest of the cattle, being so near and obeying the force of habit, wenton into the stockade.

  It was the wildest cow of the herd that made a plunge for the woods, andHenry, knowing her nature, expected trouble. So he ran as fast as hecould, and he was not aware until they were in the forest that Paul wasclose behind him. Then he shouted:

  "Go back, Paul! I'll bring her in."

  But Paul would not turn. There was fire in his blood. He considered itas much his duty to help as it was Henry's. Moreover, he would notdesert his comrade.

  The fugitive, driven by the storm acting upon its wild nature, continuedat great speed, and the panting boys were not able to overtake her. Soon the trio went, plunging through the woods, and saving themselves fromfalls, or collisions with trees, only by the light from the flashes oflightning. Many boys, even on the border, would have turned back, butthere was something tenacious in Henry's nature; he had undertaken to doa thing, and he did not wish to give it up. Besides that cow was toovaluable. And Paul would not leave his comrade.

  Away the cow went, and behind her ran her pursuers. The rain camerushing and roaring through the woods, falling now in sheets, whileoverhead the lightning still burned, and the thunder still crashed,though with less frequency. Both the boys were drenched, but they didnot mind it; they did not even know it at the time. The lightning diedpresently, the thunder ceased to rumble, and then the darkness fell likea great blanket over the whole forest. The chase was blotted out fromthem, and the two boys, stopping, grasped each other's hands for thesake of company. They could not see twenty feet before them, but therain still poured.

  "We'll have to give her up," said Henry reluctantly. "We couldn't followa whole herd of buffaloes in all this black night."

  "Maybe we can find her to-morrow," said Paul.

  "Maybe so," replied Henry. "We've got to wait anyhow. Let's go home."

  They started back for Wareville, keeping close together, lest they loseeach other in the darkness, and they realized suddenly that they wereuncomfortable. The rain was coming in such sheets directly in theirfaces that it half blinded them, now and then their feet sank deep inmire and their drenched bodies began to grow cold. The little log housesin which they lived now seemed to them palaces, fit for a king, and theyhastened their footsteps, often tripping on vines or running intobushes. But Henry was trying to see through the dark woods.

  "We ought to be near the clearing," he said.

  They stopped and looked all about, seeking to see a light. They knewthat one would be shining from the tower of the blockhouse as a guide tothem. But they saw none. They had misjudged the distance, so theythought, and they pushed on a half hour longer, but there was still nolight, nor did they come to a clearing. Then they paused. Dark as it waseach saw a look of dismay on the face of the other.

  "We've come the wrong way!" exclaimed Paul.

  "Maybe we have," reluctantly admitted Henry.

  But their dismay lasted only a little while. They were strong boys, usedto the wilderness, and they did not fear even darkness and wanderingthrough the woods. Moreover, they were sure that they should findWareville long before midnight.

  They changed their course and continued the search. The rain ceased byand by, the clouds l
eft the heavens, and the moon came out, but they sawnothing familiar about them. The great woods were dripping with water,and it was the only sound they heard, besides that made by themselves.They stopped again, worn out and disconsolate at last. All their walkingonly served to confuse them the more. Neither now had any idea of thedirection in which Wareville lay, and to be lost in the wilderness was amost desperate matter. They might travel a thousand miles, shouldstrength last them for so great a journey, and never see a single humanbeing. They leaned against the rough bark of a great oak tree, andstared blankly at each other.

  "What are we to do?" asked Paul.

  "I can't say," replied Henry.

  The two boys still looked blank, but at last they laughed--and eachlaughed at the other's grewsome face. Then they began once more to castabout them. The cold had passed and warm winds were blowing up from thesouth. The forest was drying, and Henry and Paul, taking off theircoats, wrung the water from them. They were strong lads, inured to manyhardships of the border and the forest, and they did not fear illresults from a mere wetting. Nevertheless, they wished to becomfortable, and under the influence of the warm wind they soon foundthemselves dry again. But they were so intensely sleepy that they couldscarcely keep their eyes open, and now the wilderness training of bothcame into use.

  It was a hilly country, with many outcroppings of stone and cavelikeopenings in the sides of the steep but low hills, and such a place asthis the boys now sought. But it was a long hunt and they grew moretired and sleepy at every step. They were hungry, too, but if they mightonly sleep they could forget that. They heard again the hooting of owlsand the wind, moaning among the leaves, made strange noises. Once therewas a crash in a thicket beside them, and they jumped in momentaryalarm, but it was only a startled deer, far more scared than they,running through the bushes, and Henry was ashamed of his nervousimpulse.

  They found at last their resting place, a sheltered ledge of dry stonein the hollow of a hill. The stone arched above them, and it was dark inthe recess, but the boys were too tired now to worry about shadows. Theycrept into the hollow, and, scraping up fallen leaves to soften the hardstone, lay down. Both were off to slumberland in less than five minutes.

  The hollow faced the East, and the bright sun, shining into their eyes,awakened them at last. Henry sprang up, amazed. The skies were a silkyblue, with little white clouds sailing here and there. The forest,new-washed by the rain, smelt clean and sweet. The south wind was stillblowing. The world was bright and beautiful, but he was conscious of anacute pain at the center of his being. That is, he was increasinglyhungry. Paul showed equal surprise, and was a prey to the same annoyingsensation in an important region. He looked up at the sun, and foundthat it was almost directly overhead, indicating noon.

  All the country about them was strange, an unbroken expanse of hill andforest, and nowhere a sign of a human being. They scrutinized thehorizon with the keen eyes of boyhood, but they saw no line of smoke,rising from the chimneys of Wareville. Whether the villages lay north orsouth or east or west of them they did not know, and the wind thatsighed so gently through the forest never told. They were alone in thewilderness and they knew, moreover, that the wilderness was very vastand they were very small. But Henry and Paul did not despair; in fact nosuch thought entered Henry's mind. Instead he began to find a certainjoy in the situation; it appealed to his courage. They resolved to findsomething to eat, and they used first a temporary cure for the pangs ofhunger. Each had a strong clasp knife and they cut strips of the softinner bark of the slippery-elm tree, which they chewed, drawing from ita little strength and sustenance. They found an hour or two later somenearly ripe wild plums, which they ate in small quantities, and, lateron, ripe blackberries very juicy and sweet. Paul wanted to be voracious,but Henry restrained him, knowing well that if he indulged liberally hemight suffer worse pangs than those of hunger. Slender as was this dietthe boys felt much strengthened, and their spirits rose in a wonderfulmanner.

  "We're bound to be found sooner or later," said Henry, "and it's strangeif we can't live in the woods until then."

  "If we only had our guns and ammunition," said Paul, "we could get allthe meat we wanted, and live as well as if we were at home."

  This was true, because in the untrodden forest the game was plentifulall about them, but guns and ammunition they did not have, and it wasvain to wish for them. They must obtain more solid food than wild plumsand blackberries, if they would retain their strength, and both boysknew it. Yet they saw no way and they continued wandering until theycame to a creek. They sat a while on its banks and looked down at thefish with which it was swarming, and which they could see distinctly inits clear waters.

  "Oh, if we only had one of those fine fellows!" said Paul.

  "Then why not have him?" exclaimed Henry, a sudden flash appearing inhis eye.

  "Yes, why not?" replied Paul with sarcasm. "I suppose that all we haveto do is to whistle and the finest of 'em will come right out here onthe bank, and ask us to cook and eat 'em."

  "We haven't any hooks and lines now but we might make 'em," said Henry.

  "Make 'em!" said Paul, and he looked in amazement at his comrade.

  "Out of our clothes," replied Henry.

  Then he proceeded to show what he meant and Paul, too, when he saw himbegin, was quickly taken with the idea. They drew many long strands fromthe fiber of their clothing--cloth in those days was often made asstrong as leather--and twisted and knotted them together until they hada line fifteen feet long. It took them at least two hours to completethis task, and then they contemplated their work with pride. But thelook of joy on Paul's face did not last long.

  "How on earth are we to get a hook, Henry?" he asked.

  "I'll furnish that," replied Henry, and he took the small steel bucklewith which his trousers were fastened together at the back. Breakingthis apart he bent the slenderest portion of it into the shape of ahook, and fastened it to the end of his line.

  "If we get a fish on this he may slip off or he may not, but we musttry," he said.

  The fishing rod and the bait were easy matters. A slender stem ofdogwood, cut with a clasp knife, served for the first, and, to get thelatter, they had nothing to do but turn up a flat stone, and draw angleworms from the moist earth beneath.

  The hook was baited and with a triumphant flourish Henry swung it towardthe stream.

  "Now," he said, "for the biggest fish that ever swam in this creek."

  The boys might have caught nothing with such a rude outfit, butdoubtless that stream was never fished in before, and its inhabitants,besides being full of a natural curiosity, did not dream of any dangercoming from the outer air. Therefore they bit at the curious-lookingmetallic thing with the tempting food upon it which was suddenly droppedfrom somewhere.

  But the first fish slipped off as Henry had feared, and then there wasnothing to do but try again. It was not until the sixth or seventh bitethat he succeeded in landing a fine perch upon the bank, and then Pauluttered a cry of triumph, but Henry, as became his superior dignity atthat moment, took his victory modestly. It was in reality something torejoice over, as these two boys were perhaps in a more dangeroussituation than they, with all their knowledge of the border, understood.The wilderness was full of animal life, but it was fleeter than man,and, without weapons they were helpless.

  "And now to cook him," said Henry. So speaking, he took from his pocketthe flint and steel that he had learned from the men always to carry,while Paul began to gather fallen brushwood.

  To light the fire Henry expected to be the easiest of their tasks, butit proved to be one of the most difficult. He struck forth the elusivesparks again and again, but they went out before setting fire to thewood. He worked until his fingers ached and then Paul relieved him. Itfell to the younger boy's lot to succeed. A bright spark flying forthrested a moment among the lightest and dryest of the twigs, ignitingthere. A tiny point of flame appeared, then grew and leaped up. In a fewmoments the great pile of brushwood was in a ro
aring blaze, and then theboys cooked their fish over the coals. They ate it all with supremecontent, and they believed they could feel the blood flowing in a newcurrent through their veins and their strength growing, too.

  But they knew that they would have to prepare for the future and drawupon all their resources of mind and body. Their hook and line was but aslender appliance and they might not have such luck with it again. Paulsuggested that they make a fish trap, of sticks tied together withstrips cut from their clothing, and put it in the creek, and Henrythought it was a good idea, too. So they agreed to try it on the morrow,if they should not be found meanwhile, and then they debated the subjectof snares.

  The undergrowth was swarming with rabbits, and they would make mosttoothsome food. Rabbits they must have, and again Henry led the way. Heselected a small clear spot near the thick undergrowth where a rabbitwould naturally love to make his nest and around a circle about sixinches in diameter he drove a number of smooth pegs. Then he tied astrong cord made of strips of their clothing to one end of a stout bush,which he bent over until it curved in a semicircle. The other end of thecord was drawn in a sliding loop around the pegs, and was attached to alittle wooden trigger, set in the center of the inclosure.

  The slightest pressure upon this trigger would upset it, cause the nooseto slip off the pegs and close with a jerk around the neck of anythingthat might have its head thrust into the inclosure. The bush, too, wouldfly back into place and there would be the intruder, really hanged byhimself. It was the common form of snare, devised for small game by theboys of early Kentucky, and still used by them.

  Henry and Paul made four of these ingenious little contrivances, andbaited them with bruised pieces of the small plantain leaves that therabbits love. Then they contemplated their work again with satisfaction.But Paul suddenly began to look rueful.

  "If we have to pay out part of our clothes every time we get a dinner wesoon won't have any left," he said.

  Henry only laughed.

  It was now near sunset, and, as they had worked hard they would havebeen thankful for supper, but there was none to be thankful for, andthey were too tired to fish again. So they concluded to go to sleep,which their hard work made very easy, and dream of abundant harvests onthe morrow.

  They gathered great armfuls of the fallen brushwood, littering theforest, and built a heap as high as their heads, which blazed and roaredin a splendid manner, sending up, too, a column of smoke that rose farabove the trees and trailed off in the blue sky.

  It was a most cheerful bonfire, and it was a happy thought for the boysto build it, even aside from its uses as a signal, as the coming ofnight in the wilderness is always most lonesome and weird.

  They lay down near each other on the soft turf, and Henry watched thered sun sink behind the black forest in the west. The strange,sympathetic feeling for the wilderness again came into his mind. Hethought once more of the mysterious regions that lay beyond the linewhere the black and red met. He could live in the woods, he was livingnow without arms, even, and if he only had his rifle and ammunition hecould live in luxury. And then the wonderful freedom! That old thoughtcame to him with renewed force. To roam as he pleased, to stop when hepleased and to sleep where he pleased! He would make a canoe, and floatdown the great rivers to their mouths. Then he would wander far out onthe vast plains, which they say lay beyond the thousand miles of forest,and see the buffalo in millions go thundering by. That would be a lifewithout care.

  He fell asleep presently, but he was awakened after a while by along-drawn plaintive shriek answered by a similar cry. Once he wouldhave been alarmed by the sound, but now he knew it was panther talkingto panther. He and Paul were unarmed, but they had something aseffective as guns against panthers and that was the great bonfire whichstill roared and blazed near them. He was glad now for a new reason thatthey had built it high, because the panther's cry was so uncanny andsent such a chill down one's back. He looked at Paul, but his comradestill slept soundly, a peaceful smile showing on his face. He rememberedthe words of Ross that no wild animal would trouble man if man did nottrouble him, and, rolling a little nearer to Paul, he shut his eyes andsought sleep.

  But sleep would not come, and presently he heard the cry of the pantheragain but much nearer. He was lying with his ear to the ground. Now theearth is a conductor of sound and Henry was sure that he heard a softtread. He rose upon his elbow and gazed into the darkness. There hebeheld at last a dim form moving with sinuous motion, and slowly it tookthe shape of a great cat-like animal. Then he saw just behind it anotheras large, and he knew that they were the two panthers whose cries he hadheard.

  Henry was not frightened, although there was something weird and uncannyin the spectacle of these two powerful beasts of prey, stealing aboutthe fire, before which two unarmed boys reposed. He knew, however, thatthey were drawn not by the desire to attack, but by a kind of terrifiedcuriosity. The fire was to them the magnet that the snake is to thefascinated bird. He longed then for his gun, the faithful little riflethat was reposing on the hooks over his bed in his father's house. "I'dmake you cry for something," he said to himself, looking at the largestof the panthers.

  The animals lingered, glaring at the boys and the fire with great redeyes, and presently Henry, doing as he had done on a former occasion,picked up a blazing torch and, shouting, rushed at them.

  The panthers sprang headlong through the undergrowth, in their eagernessto get away from the terrible flaming vision that was darting down uponthem. Their flight was so quick that they disappeared in an instant andHenry knew they would not venture near the site of the fire again in along time. He turned back and found Paul surprised and alarmed standingerect and rubbing his eyes.

  "Why--why--what's the matter?" cried Paul.

  "Oh, it's nothing," replied Henry.

  Then he told about the panthers. Paul did not know as much as Henryconcerning panthers and the affair got on his nerves. The lonely andvast grandeur of the wilderness did not have the attraction for him thatit had for his comrade, and he wished again for the strong log walls andcomfortable roofs of Wareville. But Henry reassured him. The testimonyof the hunters about the timidity of wild beasts was unanimous and heneed have no fears. So Paul went to sleep again, but Henry lingered asbefore.

  He threw fresh fuel on the fire. Then he lay down again and graduallyweary nature became the master of him. The woods grew dim, and fadedaway, the fire vanished and he was in slumberland.

  When Henry awoke it was because some one was tugging at his shoulder. Heknew now that the Indian warriors had come across the Ohio, and hadseized him, and he sprang up ready to make a fierce resistance.

  "Don't fight, Henry! It's me--Paul!" cried a boyish voice, and Henryletting his muscles relax rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. It was Paulsure enough standing beside him, and the sun again was high up in theheavens. The fire was still burning, though it had died down somewhat.

  "Oh, my breakfast!" cried Henry as he felt a sudden pang.

  "Come, let's see if we're going to have any," said Paul, and off theywent to their snares. The first had not been touched, nor had thesecond. The bait was gone from the third, and the loop sprung, but therewas nothing in it. The hearts of the boys sank and they thought again ofwild plums and blackberries which were but a light diet. But when theycame to the fourth snare their triumph was complete. A fat rabbit,caught in the loop, was hanging by the neck, beside the bush.

  "It's lucky the forest is so full of game that some of it falls into ourtrap," said Henry.

  They cooked the rabbit, and again they were so hungry that they ate itall. Then they improvised new fishing tackle and both boys began tofish. They knew that they must devote their whole time to this problemof food, and they decided, for the present, not to leave the creek. Theywere afraid to renew the search for Wareville, lest they wander deeperinto the wilderness, and moreover lose the way to the creek which seemedto be the surest source of food. So they would stay a while where theywere, and keep their fire burning hi
gh as a signal to searchers.

  Either the fish had learned that the curiously shaped thing with thetempting bait upon it was dangerous, or they had gone to visit friendsin distant parts of the creek, for, at least two hours passed, withouteither boy getting a bite. When the fish did lay hold it was usually toslip again from the rude hook, and it was at least another hour beforethey caught a fish. It was Paul who achieved the feat, and it repaid himfor being asleep when the panthers came, a matter that had lain upon hismind somewhat.

  They persisted in this work until Henry also made a catch and then theygathered more plums and berries. They dug up, too, the root of theIndian turnip, an herb that burnt the mouth like fire, but which Henrysaid they could use, after soaking it a long time in water. Then theydiscussed the matter of the fish trap which they thought they could makein a day's work. This would relieve them of much toil, but they deferredits beginning until the morrow, and used the rest of the day in makingtwo more snares for rabbits.

  Paul now suggested that they accumulate as much food as possible, cookit and putting it on their backs follow the creek to its mouth. He hadno doubt that it emptied into the river that flowed by Wareville andthen by following the stream, if his surmise was right, they could reachhome again. It was a plausible theory and Henry agreed with him.Meanwhile they built their fire high again and lay down for anothernight's rest in the woods. The next day they devoted to the fish trapwhich was successfully completed, and put in the river, and then theytook their places on the turf for the third night beside the camp fire.

  The day, like its predecessor, had been close and hot. All traces of thegreat rain were gone. Forest and earth were again as dry as tinder. Theyrefreshed themselves with a swim in the creek just before lying down tosleep, but they were soon panting with the heat. It seemed to hang inheavy clouds, and the forest shut out any fresh air that might be movinghigh up.

  Despite the great heat the boys had built the fire as high as usual,because they knew that the search for them would never cease so long asthere was a hope of success, and they thought that the signal should notbe lacking. But now they moved away from it and into the shadow of thewoods.

  "If only the wind would blow!" said Henry.

  "And I'd be willing to stand a rain like the one in which we got lost,"said Paul.

  But neither rain nor wind came, and after a while they fell asleep.Henry was awakened at an unknown hour of the night by a roaring in hisears, and at first he believed that Paul was about to have his storm.Then he was dazzled by a great rush of light in his eyes, and he sprangto his feet in sudden alarm.

  "Up, Paul!" he cried, grasping his comrade by the shoulder. "The woodsare on fire!"

  Paul was on his feet in an instant, and the two were just in time.Sparks flew in their faces and the flames twisting into pyramids andcolumns leaped from tree to tree with a sound like thunder as they came.Boughs, burnt through, fell to the ground with a crash. The sparks rosein millions.

  The boys had slept in their clothes or rather what was left of them,and, grasping each other's hands, they ran at full speed toward thecreek, with the great fire roaring and rushing after them. Henry lookedback once but the sight terrified him and the sparks scorched his face.He knew that the conflagration had been set by their own bonfire, fannedby a rising wind as they slept, but it was no time to lament. The rushand sweep of the flames, feeding upon the dry forest and gatheringstrength as they came, was terrific. It was indeed like the thunder of astorm in the ears of the frightened boys, and they fairly skimmed overthe ground in the effort to escape the red pursuer. They could feel itshot breath on their necks, while the smoke and the sparks flew overtheir heads. They dashed into the creek, and each dived down under thewater which felt so cool and refreshing.

  "Let's stay here," said Paul, who enjoyed the present.

  "We can't think of such a thing," replied Henry. "This creek won't stopthat fire half a minute!"

  A fire in a sun-dried Western forest is a terrible thing. It rushes onat a gallop, roaring and crackling like the battle-front of an army, anddestroying everything that lies before it. It leaves but blackenedstumps and charred logs behind, and it stops only when there is nolonger food for it to devour.

  The boys sprang out of the creek and ran up the hill. Henry paused amoment at its crest, and looked back again. The aspect of the fire wasmore frightful than ever. The flames leaped higher than the tops of thetallest trees, and thrust out long red twining arms, like coilingserpents. Beneath was the solid red bank of the conflagration, precededby showers of ashes and smoke and sparks. The roar increased and waslike that of many great guns in battle.

  "Paul!" exclaimed Henry seizing his comrade's hand again. "We've got torun, as we've never run before! It's for our lives now!"

  It was in good truth for their lives, and bending low their heads, thetwo boys, hand in hand, raced through the forest, with the ruthlesspursuer thundering after them. Henry as he ran, glanced back once moreand saw that the fire was gaining upon them. The serpents of flame werecoming nearer and nearer and the sparks flew over their heads in greatershowers. Paul was panting, and being the younger and smaller of the twohis strength was now failing. Henry felt his comrade dragging upon hishand. If he freed himself from Paul's grasp he could run faster, but heremembered his silent resolve to take Paul back to his people. Even wereit not for those others at Wareville he could never desert his friend atsuch a moment. So he pulled on Paul's hand to hasten his speed, andtogether the boys went on.

  The two noticed presently that they were not alone in their flight, acircumstance that had escaped them in the first hurry and confusion.Deer and rabbits, too, flew before the hurricane of fire. The deer werein a panic of terror, and a great stag ran for a few moments beside theboys, not noticing them, or, in his fear of greater evil, having no fearof human beings who were involved in the same danger. Three or fourbuffaloes, too, presently joined the frightened herd of game, one, agreat bull running with head down and blowing steam from his nostrils.

  Paul suddenly sank to his knees and gasped:

  "I can't go on! Let me stay here and you save yourself, Henry!"

  Henry looked back at the great fiery wall that swept over the ground,roaring like a storm. It was very near now and the smoke almost blindedhim. A boy with a spirit less stanch than his might well have fled in apanic, leaving his companion to his death. But the nearer the dangercame the more resolute Henry grew. He saw, too, that he must sting Paulinto renewed action.

  "Get up!" he exclaimed, and he jerked the fainting boy to his feet.Then, snatching a stick, he struck Paul several smart blows on his back.Paul cried out with the sudden pain, and, stimulated by it into physicalaction, began to run with renewed speed.

  "That's right, Paul!" cried Henry, dropping his stick and seizing hiscomrade again by the hand. "One more big try and we'll get away! Justover this hill here it's open ground, and the fire will have to stop!"

  It was a guess, only made to encourage Paul, and Henry had small hopethat it would come true, but when they reached the brow of the hill bothuttered a shout of delight. There was no forest for perhaps a quarter ofa mile beyond, and down the center of the open glittered a silver streakthat meant running water.

  Henry was so joyous that he cried out again.

  "See, Paul! See!" he exclaimed. "Here's safety! Now we'll run!"

  How they did run! The sight gave them new strength. They shot out ofthat terrible forest and across the short dry grass, burnt brown by latesummer days, running for life toward the flowing water. They did notstop to notice the size of the stream, but plunged at once into itscurrent.

  Henry sank with a mighty splash, and went down, down, it seemed to him,a mile. Then his feet touched a hard, rocky bottom, and he shot back tothe surface, spluttering and blowing the water out of eyes, mouth andnostrils. A brown head was bobbing beside him. He seized it by the hair,pulled it up, and disclosed the features of Paul, his comrade. Paul,too, began to splutter and at the same time to try to swim.

/>   Splash!

  A heavy body struck the water beside them with a thud too great for thatof a man. It was the stag leaping also for safety and he began to swimabout, looking at the boys with great pathetic eyes, as if he would askthem what he ought to do next for his life. Apparently his fear ofmankind had passed for the moment. They were bound together by thecommunity of danger.

  Splash! Splash! Splash!

  The water resounded like the beating of a bass drum. Three more deer, abuffalo, and any number of smaller game sprang into the stream, andremained there swimming or wading.

  "Here, Paul! Here's a bar that we can stand on," said Henry who hadfound a footing. At the same time he grasped Paul by the wrist, and drewhim to the bar. There they stood in the water to their necks, andwatched the great fire as it divided at the little prairie, and sweptaround them, passing to left and right. It was a grim sight. All theheavens seemed ablaze, and the clouds of smoke were suffocating. Eventhere in the river the heat was most oppressive, and at times the facesof the boys were almost scorched. Then they would thrust their headsunder the water, and keep them there as long as they could hold theirbreath, coming up again greatly refreshed. The wild game clustered nearin common terror.

  "It's a lucky thing for us the river and prairie are here," said Henry."Another half mile and we'd have been ashes."

  Paul was giving thanks under his breath, and watching the fire withawe-stricken eyes. It swept past them and rushed on, in a great redcloud, that ate all in its path and gave forth much noise.

  It was now on the far side of the prairie, and soon began to growsmaller in the distance. Yet so great was the wall of fire that it waslong in sight, dying at last in a red band under the horizon. Even thenall the skies were still filled with drifting smoke and ashes.

  The boys looked back at the path over which they had come, and althoughthe joy of escape was still upon them it was with real grief that theybeheld the stricken forest, lately so grand a sight. It was now but adesolate and blackened ruin. Here and there charred trunks stood likethe chimneys of burned houses, and others lay upon the ground likefallen and smoking rafters. Scattered about were great beds of livingcoals, where the brush had been thickest, and smoke rose in columns fromthe burned grass and hot earth. It was all like some great templedestroyed by fire; and such it was, the grandest of all temples, thenatural temple of the forest.

  "We kindled that fire," said Paul.

  "I guess we did," responded Henry, "but we didn't know our spark wouldgrow into so great a blaze."

  They swam to the bank and walked toward the remains of the forest. Butthe ground was still hot to their feet, and the smoke troubled them.Near the edge of the wood they found a deer still alive and with abroken leg, tripped in its panic-stricken flight or struck by a fallentree. Henry approached cautiously and slew him with his clasp knife. Hefelt strong pity as the fallen animal looked at him with great mournfuleyes, but they were two hungry boys, and they must have a food supply ifthey would live in the woods.

  They cleaned and dressed the deer and found that the carcass was as muchas they could carry. But with great toil they lifted it over the hotground, and then across another little prairie, until they came to woodsonly partially burned. There they hung the body to the bough of a tree,out of the reach of beasts of prey.

  Then they took thought for the future. Barring the deer which would lastsome time they would now have to begin all over again, but they resolvedto spend the rest of the present day, there under the shade of thetrees. They were too much exhausted with exertion and excitement toundertake any new risk just yet.

  Paul was afflicted with a great longing for home that afternoon. Thefire and their narrow escape were still on his nerves. His muscularfiber was not so enduring as that of Henry, and the wilderness did notmake so keen an appeal to him. Their hardships were beginning to weighupon him and he thought all the time of Wareville, and the comfortablelittle log houses and the certain and easy supplies of food. Henry knewwhat was on his comrade's mind but he did not upbraid him for weaknessof spirit. He, too, had memories of Wareville, and he pitied the griefof their people who must now be mourning them as lost forever. But hehad been thinking long and hard and he had a plan. Finally he announcedto Paul that they would build a raft.

  "I believe this is the same river that runs by Wareville," he said. "Inever heard Ross or Shif'less Sol or any of the men speak of anotherriver, near enough for us to have reached it, since we've been wanderingaround. So it must be the same. Now either we are above Wareville or weare below it. We've got to guess at that and take the risk of it. We canroll a lot of the logs and timber into the river, tie 'em together, andfloat with the stream until we come to Wareville."

  "But if we never come to it?" asked Paul.

  "Then all we have to do is to get off the raft and follow the river backup the bank. Then we are sure to reach home."

  This was so plausible that Paul was full of enthusiasm and they decidedthat they would set to work on the raft early in the morning.

 
Joseph A. Altsheler's Novels
»The Hunters of the Hillsby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Guns of Bull Run: A Story of the Civil War's Eveby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Forest Runners: A Story of the Great War Trail in Early Kentuckyby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Border Watch: A Story of the Great Chief's Last Standby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippiby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Star of Gettysburg: A Story of Southern High Tideby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Shades of the Wilderness: A Story of Lee's Great Standby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vistaby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Rock of Chickamauga: A Story of the Western Crisisby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Texan Scouts: A Story of the Alamo and Goliadby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Guns of Shiloh: A Story of the Great Western Campaignby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Scouts of the Valleyby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Young Trailers: A Story of Early Kentuckyby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Scouts of Stonewall: The Story of the Great Valley Campaignby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Lords of the Wild: A Story of the Old New York Borderby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Riflemen of the Ohio: A Story of the Early Days along The Beautiful Riverby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Sword of Antietam: A Story of the Nation's Crisisby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Sun of Quebec: A Story of a Great Crisisby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Masters of the Peaks: A Story of the Great North Woodsby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Last of the Chiefs: A Story of the Great Sioux Warby Joseph A. Altsheler