CHAPTER XXV
A HUNTER'S MISFORTUNE--RELIEF TO A SPRAIN--HOW TO AVOID BEING LOST INTHE WOODS, AND TO RECOVER ONE'S COURSE AFTER BEING LOST--A STILL HUNT
It was remarked by Mary the next morning, that if some one did not goout hunting they should soon be out of provision. "Which for ourcharacter as marooners I hope will not be the case," rejoined Harold."Come, Robert, shall we be hunters today?"
"We cannot do better," Robert languidly replied, "unless we go fishinginstead."
"O, do let me go with you," begged Frank. "I am so tired of beingcooped up here under this oak tree, and running for ever to the springand to the oyster bank. I want to go either hunting or fishing."
"Perhaps we can do both," said Mary, perceiving from Robert's looks thathe was disinclined to any great exertion. "Cousin Harold can take Frankand go to the woods, while you and I, brother, can catch a mess offish."
"That will do! O, yes, that is the very plan," Frank exclaimed,clapping his hands. "Then we can run a race to see who shall do best."
The company separated; Harold took Frank and disappeared in the forest,where they were absent several hours, and Robert and Mary went to theoyster bank, where they supplied themselves with bait, and thenembarking on the raft, began to fish for sheepshead, near a log imbeddedin the mud, and covered with barnacles and young oysters. The successof the fishing party was very good; they soon had a basket half full offish, and the remainder filled with shrimp.
Not so with the hunters. Robert and Mary were engaged in preparingtheir prizes for use, when they heard a sharp halloo, and saw Frankemerging from a dense growth of bushes, with the rifle upon hisshoulder, followed by Harold, who was limping painfully, and beckoningthem to approach.
Washing their hands with haste, Robert and Mary ran to meet them.Harold was seated on a log, looking very pale. Within an hour afterleaving the tent he had sprained his ankle, and ever since had beenslowly and with great suffering attempting to return. Mary wasfrightened to see the haggard looks of her cousin, and inquiredanxiously what she could do to help him.
"Take the gun, sister," said Robert. "Lean on me, cousin, I willsupport you to the tent, and then show you the best thing in the worldfor a sprain."
Mary ran to the tent, put the gun in its place, prepared Harold's couch,and then at Robert's request hurried with Frank to the spring andbrought up a bucket of water, by the time that Harold's shoe andstocking had been removed. The ankle was much swollen, and the bloodhad settled around it in deep blue clouds.
"Now, sister, bring me the coffee pot and a basin."
The basin was placed under the foot, and the coffee pot filled with coolwater was used to pour a small stream upon the injured part. Thisprocess was continued for half an hour, by which time the inflammationand pain were greatly reduced. It was also repeated several times thatday, and once more before retiring to bed, the good effects beingmanifest on each occasion.
This accident not only confined the whole company at home for the restof the day, but caused an unpleasant conviction to press heavily uponthe mind of Robert--the whole responsibility of supplying the familywith food and other necessaries would for a time devolve upon himself.This fact almost made him shudder, for though a willing boy, he was notrobust; labour was painful to him; at times he felt a greatdisinclination to bodily effort, but the greatest difficulty in the wayof his success in their present mode of life, was his ignorance of someof the most necessary arts of a hunter.
"Harold," said he, with a rueful face, the next morning, when they hadfinished talking over the various means for discovering and approachinggame in the forest; "to tell you the truth, I am afraid of _gettinglost_ in these thick and tangled woods. It is a perfect wonder to mehow you can dash on through bush and brier, and turn here and there, asif you knew every step of the way, when, if I were left alone, I shouldnever find my way home at all. Now my head is easily turned, and when Iam once lost, I am lost."
"I know exactly what you mean," replied Harold, "and in former times Iused to feel the same way. But there are two or three rules whichhelped me much, and which I will give to you.
"The first is, _never allow to yourself that you are lost_. Say toyourself that you are mistaken, or that you have taken the wrong course,or anything that you will, but never allow the _lost feeling_ to comeover you, so long as you can keep it off.
"When, however, you ascertain that you have unfortunately missed yourtrack, your next rule is to sit down _as quietly as possible_ todetermine your course. Most people in such a case become excited, runhere and there, at perfect random, and become worse bewildered thanbefore. First do you determine the points of the compass, and thenstrike for the point you are most certain of reaching. For instance,you know that anywhere on this island the sea lies to the west, and ariver to the north. You can surely find either of these places; andwhen once found you will be no longer in doubt, although you may be farfrom home."
"But how am I to know the points of the compass?" inquired Robert.
"Easily enough," his cousin replied. "But before speaking of that, letme give you my third rule, which is, _never get lost_."
Robert laughed. "That is the only rule I want. Give me that and youmay have the rest."
"Then," continued Harold, "make it your constant habit to notice thecourse you travel, and the time you are travelling. Watch the sun, orelse the shadows of the trees, and the angle at which you cross them.Early in the morning the shadows are very long, and point west. In themiddle of the forenoon, they are about as long as the trees that makethem, and all point north-west. And at twelve o'clock they are veryshort, and point due north. To a woodsman the shadows are both clockand compass; and by keeping your mind on them, you can easily make whatthe captain would call your _dead reckoning_."
"But," said Robert, "what would you do on such a day as this, when thereis neither sun nor shadow?"
"You must work by another rule," he replied. "Old Torgah gave me threesigns for telling the points of the compass, by noticing the limbs, thebark, and the green moss on the trunks of trees _well exposed_ to thesun. Moss, you know, loves the shade, while the bark and limbs grow allthe faster for having plenty of light. As a general rule, therefore,you will find the south, or sunny side of a tree marked by large limbsand thick, rough bark, and the north side covered, more or less, withwhatever green moss there may be on it.[#] Did I ever tell you howthese signs helped me once to find my way home?"
[#] Happening not long since to converse with an old and observantfarmer, on the subject of these natural signs, he pointed out another.
"Notice," said he, "the direction in which those trees _lean_."
We were in a pine forest, and, almost without exception, the trees thatdeclined from a perpendicular leaned towards the east. The severe windsthrough the up country of South Carolina, Georgia and Alabama, whichstart our trees and unsettle our fences, usually prevail from the west.That is the point also from which almost invariably come our thunderstorms.
Robert replied that he had not. "I was at my uncle's, where I had neverbeen before, in a newly settled part of the country. A small stream rannear his house, and bent considerably around his plantation. Down thisstream I followed one day, in search of ducks, and walked several milesbefore thinking of home. My uncle's house lay due east, and instead ofreturning the way I went, I determined to take a shorter course throughthe woods. I had not gone far, however, before a fat squirrel jumpedupon a log, within good shooting distance, curled his tail over hisback, and sat there barking; he seemed to give me every invitation thata squirrel possibly could to shoot him, and I did so. But it was reallycurious to see the consequence. Such a barking of squirrels I neverheard before in my life. They were all around me, jumping, shaking theirtails, and _quaw-quawing_ at such a rate, that it was almost likewitchcraft. I killed as many as I could carry, and once more set outfor home. But I had completely lost my course; the chase had taken offmy mind, and I could te
ll neither which way I came into the wood, norhow I was to go out of it. My uncle's house I knew lay to the east, andthe stream to the north. But which way was east, and which north? Thesun was hidden, and the trees were so close and thick, that the mosscovered their large trunks on every side, and the limbs and bark for thesame reason seemed to be of equal size all round. At last I spied asmall tree, that was pretty well exposed to the sun, and the limbs ofwhich were evidently larger, and the bark rougher on one side than onthe other; there was also a beautiful tuft of green moss growing at itsroot, on the side opposite to the large limbs. These signs satisfiedme; but to make assurance doubly sure, I cut into the tree far enough toascertain that the thickest bark was on the roughest side. That onetree was my guide. I struck a straight course for home, and reached itwithout difficulty. Now, if you take these rules, you can guideyourself anywhere through these woods, in which you will never be morethan three or four miles to the east of the sea-shore."
"Thank you, cousin," said Robert; "thank you sincerely. You haverelieved my mind from the greatest embarrassment I have felt at thethought of roaming these dark woods alone. Your rules give meconfidence; for the very trees that before caused my bewilderment shallnow become my guides."
He took his gun, called his dog, and gave a look to Frank, in theexpectation that he also would come. But Frank had listened quietly tothe preceding conversation, and had as quietly made up his mind not togo. He sat beside the cage, watching the opossum, and took no notice ofdog, gun, or look.
"Jump, Frank," said Robert, in a cheering tone; "I am ready to go. Letus see if we cannot find a deer."
"No, I thank you," he soberly replied; "I do not love to get lost. Itdoes not feel pleasant. I had rather stay at home and pour water oncousin Harold's foot."
"Then stay," said Robert, in a disappointed tone; "I forgot that youwere a baby."
Harold, however, who knew that Frank was an uncommon pedestrian, andthat Robert preferred to have company, whispered to him, "He is notgoing to lose himself, Frank. I think, too, he will kill some deer, andwho knows but he may find another fawn to keep Dora company." Frankseized his cap, and calling out, "Brother! brother! I am coming!"dashed off in pursuit. Fidelle started too, but they returned to tieher up, and to say to Mary that she must not be uneasy if they did notreturn by dinner-time, as they were unwilling to come without game; thentaking some parched corn in their pockets in case of hunger, togetherwith Frank's hatchet and matches, they again set off.
The first business was to visit the turkey baits; at one of which thecorn and peas had all disappeared, with evident traces of having beeneaten by turkeys. "What a pity we had not brought some more bait,"remarked Robert; "Harold says that when they have once found food at aplace, they are almost sure to return the next day to look for more. Wemust share with them our dinner of parched corn."
Renewing the bait, they proceeded in a straight course south, having fortheir guide the bright clouds that showed the place of the sun to thesouth-east. Frank was very anxious for Robert to kill some of the manysquirrels that frolicked around them. "May be," said he, "if you shoot,they will quaw-quaw for you as they did for Cousin Harold, and then wecan go home loaded." But Robert replied that this would be a uselesswaste of ammunition: that it would probably scare off the deer from theneighbourhood; and that, moreover, his gun was not loaded for such smallgame.
Hardly had the argument closed before Mum began to smell and snort, hereand there, intent upon a confused trail. His motion became soon moresteady, and he started off at a pace that made the hunters run to keepin sight. Afraid that at this rate Frank would give out, and that hehimself would be too much out of breath to aim surely, or to creepcautiously upon the deer, Robert called out, "Steady, Mum!" Thewell-trained brute instantly slackened his speed, and keeping only abouta rod ahead, went forward at a moderate walk. In this way they followedfor a full quarter of a mile, when Robert observed him take his nosefrom the ground, and walk with noiseless step, keeping his eyes keenlydirected forwards. He "steadied" him again by a half whispered command,and kept close at his heels. Soon he saw a pair of antlers peeringabove a distant thicket, and the brown side of a deer between thebranches. Softly ordering Mum to "come in," and noticing that whatlittle wind there was blew so as not to carry their scent to the deer,he said to Frank, "Buddy, if you will remain by this large poplar, Iwill creep behind yonder thicket, and see if I cannot get a shot. Willyou be afraid?"
"No," he replied, "if you do not go too far away."
"I will not go out of hearing," Robert said, "and if you need anything,whistle for me, but do not call. Hide yourself behind this tree, andwhen you hear me shoot, come as soon as you please."
It was easy to cover his advance behind the dense foliage of a vinybower, until he was quite near. He paused to listen; the rustle ofleaves and the sound of stamping feet were distinctly heard. A shortbut cautious movement gave him a commanding view of the ground. Therewere three deer feeding within easy reach of his shot. He sprung bothbarrels, and tried to be deliberate, but in spite of all resolution hisheart jumped into his mouth, and his hand shook violently; he had whathunters call "the buck-ague." Steadying his piece against a stoutbranch, he aimed at the shoulders of the largest, and fired. It fell,with a bound forward. The other deer, instead of darting away, as heexpected, turned in apparent surprise to look at the unusual vision ofsmoke and fire, accompanied by such a noise, when he took deliberate aimwith a now steady hand, and fired at the head of the next largest, as itwas in the act of springing away.
"Come, Frank! come!" he shouted.
Frank, however, had started at the first report, and was now running atthe top of his speed. Robert rushed forward to dye his hand for thefirst time in the blood of so noble a victim; yet it made him almostshudder to hear the knife grate through the delicate flesh, and to seethe rich blood gurgling upon the ground. Had it not been that suchbutchery was necessary to subsistence, he would have resolved at thatmoment to repeat it no more.
But what was next to be done? Here were two large deer lying upon theearth. Should he skin and cleanse them there, and attempt to carry homethe divided quarters? or should he carry home one deer and return forthe other? He decided upon the last. Before proceeding homewards,however, he blazed a number of trees, to show afar off the place of hisgame; then selecting a tree, as far as he could distinguish in his way,he went towards it, chopping each bush and sapling with his hatchet; andmaking a broad blaze upon this tree, he selected another in the sameline, and proceeded thus until he reached the tent. He had learnt byone-half day's practice to thread the trackless forest with a steadinessof course and a confidence of spirit that were surprising to himself.