CHAPER III.
In his strange mental condition even the change from Harkutt's feeblecandle to the outer darkness for a moment blinded Elijah Curtis, yet itwas part of that mental condition that he kept moving steadily forwardas in a trance or dream, though at first purposelessly. Then it occurredto him that he was really looking for his horse, and that the animal wasnot there. This for a moment confused and frightened him, first with thesupposition that he had not brought him at all, but that it was part ofhis delusion; secondly, with the conviction that without his horsehe could neither proceed on the course suggested by Harkutt, nor takeanother more vague one that was dimly in his mind. Yet in his hopelessvacillation it seemed a relief that now neither was practicable, andthat he need do nothing. Perhaps it was a mysterious providence!
The explanation, however, was much simpler. The horse had been taken bythe luxurious and indolent Billings unknown to his companions. Overcomeat the dreadful prospect of walking home in that weather, this perfectproduct of lethargic Sidon had artfully allowed Peters and Wingate toprecede him, and, cautiously unloosing the tethered animal, had safelypassed them in the darkness. When he gained his own inclosure he hadlazily dismounted, and, with a sharp cut on the mustang's haunches,sent him galloping back to rejoin his master, with what result has beenalready told by the unsuspecting Peters in the preceding chapter.
Yet no conception of this possibility entered 'Lige Curtis's alcoholizedconsciousness, part of whose morbid phantasy it was to distort orexaggerate all natural phenomena. He had a vague idea that he could notgo back to Harkutt's; already his visit seemed to have happened long,long ago, and could not be repeated. He would walk on, enwrapped inthis uncompromising darkness which concealed everything, suggestedeverything, and was responsible for everything.
It was very dark, for the wind, having lulled, no longer thinned theveil of clouds above, nor dissipated a steaming mist that appeared torise from the sodden plain. Yet he moved easily through the darkness,seeming to be upheld by it as something tangible, upon which he mightlean. At times he thought he heard voices,--not a particular voice hewas thinking of, but strange voices--of course unreal to his presentfancy. And then he heard one of these voices, unlike any voice inSidon, and very faint and far off, asking if it "was anywhere nearSidon?"--evidently some one lost like himself. He answered in a voicethat seemed quite as unreal and as faint, and turned in the directionfrom which it came. There was a light moving like a will-o'-the-wisp farbefore him, yet below him as if coming out of the depths of the earth.It must be fancy, but he would see--ah!
He had fallen violently forward, and at the same moment felt hisrevolver leap from his breast pocket like a living thing, and an instantafter explode upon the rock where it struck, blindingly illuminating thedeclivity down which he was plunging. The sulphurous sting of burningpowder was in his eyes and nose, yet in that swift revealing flash hehad time to clutch the stems of a trailing vine beside him, but notto save his head from sharp contact with the same rocky ledge that hadcaught his pistol. The pain and shock gave way to a sickening sense ofwarmth at the roots of his hair. Giddy and faint, his fingers relaxed,he felt himself sinking, with a languor that was half acquiescence,down, down,--until, with another shock, a wild gasping for air, and aswift reaction, he awoke in the cold, rushing water!
Clear and perfectly conscious now, though frantically fighting forexistence with the current, he could dimly see a floating black objectshooting by the shore, at times striking the projections of the bank,until in its recoil it swung half round and drifted broadside on towardshim. He was near enough to catch the frayed ends of a trailing rope thatfastened the structure, which seemed to be a few logs, together. Witha convulsive effort he at last gained a footing upon it, and then fellfainting along its length. It was the raft which the surveyors from theembarcadero had just abandoned.
He did not know this, nor would he have thought it otherwise strangethat a raft might be a part of the drift of the overflow, even had hebeen entirely conscious; but his senses were failing, though he wasstill able to keep a secure position on the raft, and to vaguely believethat it would carry him to some relief and succor. How long he layunconscious he never knew; in his after-recollections of that night, itseemed to have been haunted by dreams of passing dim banks and strangeplaces; of a face and voice that had been pleasant to him; of a terrorcoming upon him as he appeared to be nearing a place like that home thathe had abandoned in the lonely tules. He was roused at last by a violentheadache, as if his soft felt hat had been changed into a tighteningcrown of iron. Lifting his hand to his head to tear off its covering,he was surprised to find that he was wearing no hat, but that his mattedhair, stiffened and dried with blood and ooze, was clinging like a capto his skull in the hot morning sunlight. His eyelids and lashes wereglued together and weighted down by the same sanguinary plaster. Hecrawled to the edge of his frail raft, not without difficulty, for itoscillated and rocked strangely, and dipped his hand in the current.When he had cleared his eyes he lifted them with a shock of amazement.Creeks, banks, and plain had disappeared; he was alone on a bend of thetossing bay of San Francisco!
His first and only sense--cleared by fasting and quickened byreaction--was one of infinite relief. He was not only free from thevague terrors of the preceding days and nights, but his whole pastseemed to be lost and sunk forever in this illimitable expanse. The lowplain of Tasajara, with its steadfast monotony of light and shadow,had sunk beneath another level, but one that glistened, sparkled, wasinstinct with varying life, and moved and even danced below him. The lowpalisades of regularly recurring tules that had fenced in, impeded, butnever relieved the blankness of his horizon, were forever swallowedup behind him. All trail of past degradation, all record of pain andsuffering, all footprints of his wandering and misguided feet weresmoothly wiped out in that obliterating sea. He was physically helpless,and he felt it; he was in danger, and he knew it,--but he was free!
Happily there was but little wind and the sea was slight. The raft wasstill intact so far as he could judge, but even in his ignorance heknew it would scarcely stand the surges of the lower bay. Like mostCalifornians who had passed the straits of Carquinez at night in asteamer, he did not recognize the locality, nor even the distant peakof Tamalpais. There were a few dotting sails that seemed as remote,as uncertain, and as unfriendly as sea birds. The raft was motionless,almost as motionless as he was in his cramped limbs and sun-dried,stiffened clothes. Too weak to keep an upright position, without mast,stick, or oar to lift a signal above that vast expanse, it seemedimpossible for him to attract attention. Even his pistol was gone.
Suddenly, in an attempt to raise himself, he was struck by a flash soblinding that it seemed to pierce his aching eyes and brain and turnedhim sick. It appeared to come from a crevice between the logs at thefurther end of the raft. Creeping painfully towards it he saw that itwas a triangular slip of highly polished metal that he had hithertooverlooked. He did not know that it was a "flashing" mirror usedin topographical observation, which had slipped from the surveyors'instruments when they abandoned the raft, but his excited facultiesinstinctively detected its value to him. He lifted it, and, facing thesun, raised it at different angles with his feeble arms. But the effortwas too much for him; the raft presently seemed to be whirling with hismovement, and he again fell.
*****
"Ahoy there!"
The voice was close upon--in his very ears. He opened his eyes. The seastill stretched emptily before him; the dotting sails still unchangedand distant. Yet a strange shadow lay upon the raft. He turned his headwith difficulty. On the opposite side--so close upon him as to be almostover his head--the great white sails of a schooner hovered above himlike the wings of some enormous sea bird. Then a heavy boom swung acrossthe raft, so low that it would have swept him away had he been in anupright position; the sides of the vessel grazed the raft and she fellslowly off. A terrible fear of abandonment took possession of him; hetried to speak, but could not. The vessel moved further aw
ay, but theraft followed! He could see now it was being held by a boat-hook,--couldsee the odd, eager curiosity on two faces that were raised abovethe taffrail, and with that sense of relief his eyes again closed inunconsciousness.
A feeling of chilliness, followed by a grateful sensation of drawingcloser under some warm covering, a stinging taste in his mouth of fieryliquor and the aromatic steam of hot coffee, were his first returningsensations. His head and neck were swathed in coarse bandages, and hisskin stiffened and smarting with soap. He was lying in a rude berthunder a half-deck from which he could see the sky and the bellying sail,and presently a bearded face filled with rough and practical concernthat peered down upon him.
"Hulloo! comin' round, eh? Hold on!" The next moment the stranger hadleaped down beside Elijah. He seemed to be an odd mingling of the sailorand ranchero with the shrewdness of a seaport trader.
"Hulloo, boss! What was it? A free fight, or a wash-out?"
"A wash-out!"* Elijah grasped the idea as an inspiration. Yes, his cabinhad been inundated, he had taken to a raft, had been knocked off twiceor thrice, and had lost everything--even his revolver!
* A mining term for the temporary inundation of a claim by flood; also used for the sterilizing effect of flood on fertile soil.
The man looked relieved. "Then it ain't a free fight, nor havin' yourcrust busted and bein' robbed by beach combers, eh?"
"No," said Elijah, with his first faint smile.
"Glad o' that," said the man bluntly. "Then thar ain't no policebusiness to tie up to in 'Frisco? We were stuck thar a week once, justbecause we chanced to pick up a feller who'd been found gagged and thenthrown overboard by wharf thieves. Had to dance attendance at courtthar and lost our trip." He stopped and looked half-pathetically at theprostrate Elijah. "Look yer! ye ain't just dyin' to go ashore NOW andsee yer friends and send messages, are ye?"
Elijah shuddered inwardly, but outwardly smiled faintly as he replied,"No!"
"And the tide and wind jest servin' us now, ye wouldn't mind keepin'straight on with us this trip?"
"Where to?" asked Elijah.
"Santy Barbara."
"No," said Elijah, after a moment's pause. "I'll go with you."
The man leaped to his feet, lifted his head above the upper deck,shouted "Let her go free, Jerry!" and then turned gratefully to hispassenger. "Look yer! A wash-out is a wash-out, I reckon, put it anyway you like; it don't put anything back into the land, or anything backinto your pocket afterwards, eh? No! And yer well out of it, pardner!Now there's a right smart chance for locatin' jest back of SantyBarbara, where thar ain't no God-forsaken tules to overflow; and ez farez the land and licker lies ye 'needn't take any water in yours' ef yedon't want it. You kin start fresh thar, pardner, and brail up. What'sthe matter with you, old man, is only fever 'n' agur ketched in themtules! I kin see it in your eyes. Now you hold on whar you be till I goforrard and see everything taut, and then I'll come back and we'll havea talk."
And they did. The result of which was that at the end of a week'stossing and seasickness, Elijah Curtis was landed at Santa Barbara,pale, thin, but self-contained and resolute. And having found favorin the eyes of the skipper of the Kitty Hawk, general trader,lumber-dealer, and ranch-man, a week later he was located on theskipper's land and installed in the skipper's service. And from thatday, for five years Sidon and Tasajara knew him no more.