CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
THE WILDERNESS AGAIN--NEW PLANS MOOTED--TREACHEROUS ICE, AND A BRAVERESCUE.
The well-known disinclination of time and tide to wait for any man holdsgood in the wilderness of the Great Nor'-west, as elsewhere.
Notwithstanding the momentous events which took place at Fort Wichikaganand in Colorado, as detailed in preceding chapters, the winter passedaway as usual, spring returned, and the voice of the grey-goose andplover began once more to gladden the heart of exiled man.
Jack Lumley sat on a rustic chair in front of the Hall, gazing withwistful eyes at the still ice-covered lake, and occasionally consultingan open letter in his hand with frowning looks of meditation. The sweetvoice of Jessie Lumley came from the interior of the Hall, trilling atuneful Highland air, which, sweeping over the lawn and lake, mingledwith the discords of the plover and geese, thus producing a species ofwild-wood harmony.
Peter Macnab--who, since the memorable day when the table became asplit-camel under his weight, had been to the Mountain Fort and got backagain to Wichikagan--came up, sat down on a bench beside hisbrother-in-law, and said,--"Shall I become a prophet?"
"Perhaps you'd better not, Macnab. It is not safe to sail under falsecolours, or pretend to powers which one does not possess."
"But what if I feel a sort of inspiration which convinces me that I dopossess prophetic powers, at least to some extent?"
"Then explode and relieve yourself by all means," said Lumley.
"You have read that letter," resumed Macnab, "at least fifty times, ifyou have read it once."
"If you had said that I had read it a hundred and fifty times," returnedLumley, "you would have been still under the mark."
"Just so. And you have meditated over it, and dreamed about it, andtalked it over with your wife at least as many times--if not more."
"Your claim to rank among the prophets is indisputable, Macnab--at leastas regards the past. What have you got to say about the future?"
"The future is as clear to me, my boy, as yonder sun, which gleams inthe pools that stud the ice on Lake Wichikagan."
"I am afraid, brother-in-law," returned Lumley, with a pitiful smile,"that your intellects are sinking to a par with those of the geese whichfly over the pools referred to."
"Listen!" resumed the Highlander, with a serious air that was unusual inhim. "I read the future thus. You have already, as I am aware, sent inyour resignation. Well, you will not only quit the service of the HBC,but you will go and join your friend Maxby in Colorado; you will becomea farmer; and, worst of all, you will take my dear sister with you."
"In some respects," said Lumley, also becoming serious, "you are right.I have made up my mind that, God willing, I shall quit the service--notthat I find fault with it, very much the reverse; but it is too much ofa life of exile and solitude to my dear Jessie. I will also go toColorado and join Maxby, but I won't take your sister from you. I willtake you with me, brother-in-law, if you will consent to go, and weshall all live together. What say you?"
Macnab shook his head, sadly.
"You forget my boy, that your case is very different from mine. Youhave only just reached the end of your second term of service, and arestill a youth. Whereas, I am a commissioned officer of the Fur Trade,with a fairish income, besides being an elderly man, and not very keento throw all up and begin life over again."
There was much in what Macnab said, yet not so much but that Lumley sethimself, with all his powers of suasion and suavity, to induce hisbrother-in-law to change his mind. But Lumley had yet to learn that nopower of Saxon logic, or personal influence, can move the will of a manfrom beyond the Grampian range who has once made up his mind.
When all was said, Macnab still shook his head, and smiled regretfully.
"It's of no use wasting your breath, my boy,--but tell me, is Jessieanxious for this change?"
"She is anxious. She naturally pines for female society--though she didnot say so until I urged her solemnly to tell me all her mind. And sheis right. It is not good for woman, any more than for man, to be alone,and when I am away on these long expeditions--taking the furs to thedepot, searching out the Indians, hunting, etcetera,--she is leftunavoidably alone. I have felt this very strongly, and that was why, asyou know, I had made up my mind during the winter, and written to thegovernor and council that, as my time had expired, I meant to retirethis spring."
"Yes, boy, I know," returned Macnab. "I foresaw all this even longbefore you began to move in the matter, and I also took steps with aview to contingencies. You know that I am entitled to a year's furloughthis spring. Well, I wrote during the winter to say that I intended toavail myself of it. Now, then, this is what I intend to do. When youretire, and go off to the States, I will go with you on leave ofabsence. We won't lose time by the way, for you may depend on it thatMaxby will not delay his wedding longer than he can help. Fortunately,his old father won't be able to wind up his affairs in England, and setoff to Colorado quite as quickly as the son expects, so that will helpto delay matters; and thus, though we can hardly expect to be in timefor the wedding, we will at least be time enough to claim a revival andextension of the festivities. Then, you know, Big Otter--"
"Aye, what of him?" asked Lumley, seeing that Macnab paused.
"Well, I think we may prevail on him to go with us, as our guide, tillwe reach the civilised world, after which, we can take him in charge--turn the tables as it were--and guide him to Sunny Creek."
"Yes--or send him on in advance of us, through the wood in a straightline, like the swallow, to announce our approach."
At this point, Jessie, who had been busy with the household bread, cameto the door with a face radiant from the combined effect of hard workand happiness.
"What is the subject of all this earnest conversation, Jack?" she asked,pulling down the sleeves that had been tucked up above her elbows.
"Ask your brother, Jess," said Lumley, rising. "I shall have timebefore supper to pay a visit to Big Otter on a matter of someimportance."
He passed into the house to take up his gun and powder-horn, whileJessie sat down on the rustic chair, and her brother returned to thesubject that had been interrupted.
Now there occurred that afternoon an event which might have put a finaland fatal termination to the plans which had just been so eagerlydiscussed.
I have said that spring was so far advanced at that time, that pools ofwater were formed on the ice of Lake Wichikagan. The heat which causedthese had also the effect of softening the snow in the woods, so as torender walking in snow-shoes very laborious. As walking without them,however, was impossible, Lumley had no other course left than to putthem on and plod away heavily through the deep and pasty snow.
Big Otter at that time occupied the important position of hunter to theestablishment. He supplied it with fresh meat and dwelt in a smallwigwam, about six miles distant from the fort, on the borders of alittle lake--little at least for that region, but measuring somewhatover three miles in diameter. He also, for his own advantage andrecreation, carried on the business of a trapper, and had that wintersupplied many a silver fox and marten to the fur-stores at Wichikagan.
When Lumley set out to visit the chief he knew that there was apossibility of his being out after deer, but in that case he meant toawait his arrival, at least until nightfall, and then he could leave ahieroglyphic message, which the Indian would understand, requiring hisimmediate presence at the fort. In any case Lumley thought nothing of atwelve-mile walk, even though the snow _was_ soft and deep.
Nothing worthy of notice occurred until he reached the lakeabove-mentioned, on the borders of which he halted. Looking across thebay, on the other side of which the hunter's wigwam stood, he coulddiscern among the pines and willows, the orange-coloured birch-bark ofwhich it was made, but no wreath of blue smoke told of the presence ofthe hunter.
"H'm! not at home!" muttered Lumley, who then proceeded to debate withhimself the propriety of ventu
ring to cross the bay on the ice.
Now, it must be told that ice on the North American lakes becomesexceedingly dangerous at a certain period of spring, for, retaining muchof its winter solidity of appearance, and, indeed, much of its winterthickness, it tempts men to venture on it when, in reality, it hasbecome honeycombed and "rotten." Ice of this kind--no matter how thickit be,--is prone to give way without any of those friendly cracks andrends and other warnings peculiar to the new ice of autumn, and, insteadof giving way in angular cakes, it suddenly slides down, letting a manthrough to the water, by opening a hole not much larger than himself.Of course Lumley was well aware of this danger--hence the debate withhimself, or rather with his judgment.
"It looks solid enough," said Lumley.
"Looks are deceptive," said his judgment.
"Then, it's rather early yet for the ice to have become quite rotten,"said Lumley.
"So everyone goes on saying, every spring, till some unfortunate loseshis life, and teaches others wisdom," said judgment; "besides, you're aheavy man."
"And it is a tremendous long way round by the shore--nearly four timesthe distance," murmured Lumley.
"What of that in comparison with the risk you run," remarked judgment,growing impatient.
"I'll venture it!" said the man, sternly.
"You're a fool!" cried the other, getting angry.
It is surprising with what equanimity a man will stand insultinglanguage from himself! With something like a contemptuous smile on hislips, Lumley took off his snow-shoes and set off to cross the bay.
As he had anticipated, he found it as firm as a rock. The surface,indeed, had a dark wet look about it, and there were various pools hereand there which he carefully avoided; but there was no other indicationof danger until he had got three-quarters of the way across. Then,without an instant's warning, the mass of ice on which he stood droppedbelow him like a trap-door and left him struggling in a compound of iceand water!
The first shock of the cold water on his robust frame was to give it afeeling of unusual strength. With a sharp shout, caused by the coldrather than alarm, he laid both hands on the edge of the ice, and,springing like an acrobat out of the water to his waist, fell with hischest on the still sound ice; but it was not long sound. His convulsivegrip and heavy weight broke it off, and down he sank again, over headand ears.
It is not easy to convince a very powerful man that he may becomehelpless. Lumley rose, and, with another Herculean grip, laid hold ofthe edge of the ice. His mind had not yet fully admitted that he was inabsolute danger. He had only been recklessly vigorous at the firstattempt to get out--that was all--now, he would exercise caution.
With the coolness that was natural to him--increased, perhaps, by thecoolness of the water--he again laid his hands on the edge of the ice,but he did not try to scramble upon it. He had been a practised gymnastat school. Many a time had he got into a boat from deep water whilebathing, and he knew that in such an effort one is hampered by thetendency one's legs have to get under the boat and prevent action--evenas, at that moment, his legs were attempting to go under the ice.Adopting, therefore, his old plan and keeping his hands on the edge ofthe ice, he first of all paddled backwards with his legs until he gothimself into a quite perpendicular position, so that when he should makethe spring there would be no fear of retarding his action by scrapingagainst the ice with his chest. While in this position he let himselfsink to the very lips--nay, even lower--and then, acting with arms andlegs at the same moment, he shot himself full half his length out of thewater.
The whole process was well calculated, for, by sinking so deeply beforethe spring, he thus made use of the buoyancy of water, and rendered lesspressure with his hands on the ice needful. But, although he thusavoided breaking the ice at first he could not by any device lessen theweight of his fall upon it. Again the treacherous mass gave way, andonce more he sank into the cold lake.
Cold, far more than exertion, tells on a man in such circumstances. Afeeling of exhaustion, such as poor Lumley had never felt before, cameover him.
"God help me!" he gasped, with the fervour that comes over men when inthe hour of their extremity.
Death seemed at last evidently to confront him, and with the energy of abrave man he grappled and fought him. Again and again he tried thefaithless ice, each time trying to recall some device in athletics whichmight help him, but always with the same result. Then, still clingingto life convulsively, he prayed fervently and tried to meet his fatelike a man. This effort is probably more easy on the battle-field, withthe vital powers unexhausted, and the passions strong. It was not soeasy in the lone wilderness, with no comrade's voice to cheer, with thecold gradually benumbing all the vital powers, and with life slippingslowly away like an unbelievable dream!
The desire to live came over him so strongly at times, that again andyet again, he struggled back from the gates of the dark valley by themere power of his will and renewed his fruitless efforts; and when atlast despair took possession of him, from the depths of his capaciouschest he gave vent to that:--
"Bubbling cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony!"
Sleeping soundly in his wigwam, Big Otter heard the cry.
Our Indian was not the man to start up and stare, and wonder, and waitfor a repetition of any cry. Like the deer which he had so oftenroused, he leaped up, bounded through the doorway of his tent, andgrasped gun and snow-shoes. One glance sufficed to show him the not fardistant hole in the ice. Dropping the gun he thrust his feet into thesnowshoes, and went off over the ice at racing speed. The snow-shoesdid not impede him much, and they rendered the run over the ice lessdangerous. Probably Lumley would not have broken through if he had usedhis snow-shoes, because of the larger surface of ice which they wouldhave covered.
To come within a few yards of the hole, slide to the edge of it on hischest, with both snow-shoes spread out under that, by way of diffusinghis weight over as much surface as possible, was the work of only a fewminutes. But by that time the perishing man was almost incapable ofhelping himself. The great difficulty that the rescuer experienced wasto rouse Lumley once more to action, for the torpor that precedes deathhad already set in, and to get on his knees on the edge of the ice, soas to have power to raise his friend, would only have resulted in theloss of his own life as well. To make sure that he should not let gohis hold and slip, Big Otter tied the end of his long worsted belt roundhis friend's right wrist.
"Now," he said, earnestly, "try once more."
"Too late--too late! God bless you, Big--" He stopped, and his eyesclosed!
"No!" cried the Indian, vehemently, giving the perishing man's head aviolent shake--then, putting his mouth close to his ear, added in a deeptone--"Not too late for the Master of Life to save. Think! Thedark-haired pale-face waits for you."
This was a judicious touch. The energy which could not be aroused byany consideration of self was electrified by the thought of the waitingwife. Lumley made one more desperate effort and once again cried to Godfor help. Both acts contributed to the desired end, and were themselvesan answer to the prayer of faith. Mysterious connection! Hope revived,and the vital fluid received a fresh impulse. In the strength of itLumley raised himself so far out of the water that the Indian was ableto drag half his body on the ice, but the legs still hung down.Creeping back a few feet, the Indian, still lying flat on his face, cuta hole in the ice with his hatchet into which he stuck his toe, andseized hold of the end of his worsted belt.
"That's right," said his friend, faintly--"wait."
Big Otter knew that full consciousness had returned. He waited whileLumley, gently paddling with his legs, got them into a horizontalposition.
"Now!" cried Lumley.
The Indian pulled--softly at first, then vigorously, and Lumley slidfairly on the ice. The rest, though still dangerous, was easy. In afew minutes more the red-man had the pale-face stripped beside a rousingfire in the wigwam--and thus he brought him back to life from
the verygates of death.
"You have saved me, my good friend," said Lumley, when he began torecover.
"The Great Master of Life saved you," returned the Indian. "He made useof me--for which I thank him."
It was not until late on the following day that Lumley felt strongenough to return to the fort, and relate what had occurred. Then theplans for the future were laid before Big Otter, and, to thesatisfaction of all parties, he agreed at once to fall in with them.
"But," said he, "Big Otter will not stay. He loves the great wildernesstoo well to be content to live among the wooden wigwams of thepale-faces."
"Well, we won't bother ourselves on that point just now," said Macnab,"and so, as that's comfortably settled, I'll pack up and away back to mymountain fort to get ready for a trip, with you and Lumley and Jessie,to Colorado."