CHAPTER II--Lost In the Woods
At Boothbay Harbor, Mike Murphy hired Sherb Doloff to take him in hissmall motor boat _Sunshine_ to Hailstone Point. It was the season whenthe days are long, and the sun was only a little past meridian as thesmall boat chug-chugged up beside the projecting finger of land and theeager Mike leaped ashore.
"There isn't any path on this side of the point," said Captain Doloff,"but you can't miss your way. A few miles through the woods and you'llbe there."
"Have no worriment for me; I'm not the bye to go astray, even if thecountry _is_ new," was the confident reply of Mike, who, having paid theyoung man the fee agreed upon, bade him good-by and plunged into thefragrant pine forest. He carried no firearms, not even his revolver,--afact which caused him no misgiving, since it seemed impossible that heshould run into any personal danger. This was not the section of Mainefrequented by wild animals, and though there were a few Indians, hereand there, all were civilized and they attract no more interest thanthose of the Caucasian race. A tramp of several miles on such a balmyday was enjoyable when there was just a tinge of crispness in the air toremind one that autumn was only a few weeks away. The pine cones andmoss, and the many years' accumulation of decaying foliage formed aspongy carpet, upon which the shoe pressed without giving back anysound, and made walking the pleasantest sort of gentle exercise.
Mike carried the heavy buckthorn cane which his father had brought withhim from Ireland, but he did not need its aid. He twirled it as anofficer dallies with his swagger stick and sang snatches of song in thatwonderfully sweet voice, which no one could hear without being charmed.Of course it was impossible for the lad to be unaware of his amazinggift in this respect, and you have been told of some of the occasionswhen he used it for the delight of others. He frequently sang for hisfather and mother, and again, as in the present instance, the lowdelightful humming was for his own pleasure, since one of the blessedpeculiarities of music is that it requires no "witnesses" for itsperfect enjoyment.
Still, as has also been shown, Mike was never forward in displaying hisunrivaled voice. Many a time he had listened to the singing of othersand joined in the applause without a single one of the audiencesuspecting how infinitely superior he was to the foremost of thecompany, nor did Mike ever enlighten them.
With all his waggishness and pugnacity, he was devout in his religiousbelief and had won the commendation more than once of the priests athome, who knew all about him.
"I wonder why the Lord is so good to me," he reflected with reverentemotion; "there ain't a meaner rapscallion in creation than me, and yetHe treats me as if I were a twin brother to Alvin and Chester and lotsof other folks. I must try to remember all this, but I'm sartin tofurget it on the first chance that comes to me.
"Now, about those Boy Scouts,--I wonder what they are; I never heard of'em before; I s'pose they call themselves Scouts 'cause they're alwaysscouting for a row, and kick up a shindy whenever they git the chance.I'll try to do me part, as I always did in the owld country, and since Iset fut in Ameriky."
Giving rein to his mental whimsies, Mike strolled forward until certainhe had traveled the full distance. He halted and looked around. Severaltimes a half dozen crows, perched in the treetops, catching sight of himdived away with loud cawing warnings to their comrades of an intrusioninto their domain of a foe to be feared, but thus far he had noted noother species of birds. Now, however, when he peered upward through anopening among the branches, he saw a black speck gliding across the thinazure and vanishing in the ocean of ether beyond. It was an eagle,soaring so far aloft that its piercing vision had no knowledge of thetiny form thousands of feet below amid the firs and pines.
"Gosling Lake," repeated Mike; "I must be near the same, as dad remarkedwhin his friend Jim Muldoon cracked his head wid the shillalah, but Iobsarve it not."
He listened keenly but caught no distinctive sound. The soft, almostinaudible murmur which is never absent in a wide stretch of forest, orwhen miles inland from the breathing ocean, brooded in the air and hasbeen called the "voice of silence" itself.
Thus far the youth had not felt the slightest misgiving, and even now hewas sure there was no cause for alarm. If he was astray it could not befor long. He was not far from some of the numerous towns and villages inthat section, and if he could not find the Boy Patrol camp, he surelywould not have to search far before coming upon friends. If the waningafternoon should find him in the woods, it would be no special hardshipto pass the night under the trees, though he did not fancy the prospectand did not mean to stay out unless necessity compelled.
None the less it dawned upon him for the first time that his task wasnot likely to be as easy as he had supposed. Only an experiencedwoodsman can hold to a mathematical line in the trackless wilderness,which was what he must do to reach the camp of the Boy Patrol.
"It would be no task if there was a path or road, and I was sitting inan automobile, wid me hand on the steering gear or directing the_Deerfut_ up the Kennebec, or if them byes had put up guide posts, whichthe same I'll remind them to do."
If there was one thing regarding which Mike felt certain it was that hehad kept to a straight course after stepping ashore from the launch; butif such were the fact, how could it be explained that he had traveledall of this distance, and yet, so far as appearances went, was as farfrom his goal as when he started?
"It's more than I can understand, as Maggie Keile said when her taychertold her 'queue' spelled 'q.' Now, if I could come upon the tracks ofsome person it would be all that I could ask--and begorra! here theybe!"
Looking down at the ground, his eyes rested upon the very thing hewished to see: there was the impression visible in the soft leaves.Scarcely a rod from where he was standing was a yielding patch of mosswhere the trail showed with clearness. The outline of the broad sole ofa shoe could be plainly traced until it became more obscure on the drierleaves. Mike stepped nearer and studied the "signs."
"Now, that felly knowed where he wanted to go, and not being such a foolas me, he's gone there. All I have to do is to keep to the course hetook and I'll come out somewhere. I'll stick close, as the fly papersaid to me whin I sat down on it."
Not doubting that he had found the key to the problem, all anxietyvanished. It was not to be supposed that the individual who had precededhim was ignorant of the woods and the quickest ways of emerging fromthem. Mike even figured on coming upon him with the appearance ofaccident, and of keeping from him his own need of assistance in going tothe Boy Patrol camp.
"It may be they've been here so short a time that he hasn't obsarved thesame, but Gosling Lake has been in these parts a good many years, andhe'll be sure to know where it is. I'll draw it out of him as if I don'tcare much."
The youth had not forgotten that simplest of all expedients which is thefirst to come to an astray person. This was to shout at the top of hisvoice. More than likely he would be heard at the Boy Scout camp, and ifnot there, by the stranger whom he was trailing. But he was not ready toadmit that he really needed help, and to ask for assistance would be aconfession that he was frightened for his own safety. He would beashamed to appear in such a plight, and Alvin and Chester would be sureto make the most of it. What more humiliating than to be introduced to alot of strangers as one who did not know enough to travel a few milesthrough the woods without some person to lead him by the hand?
"Not yet," he muttered, compressing his lips with resolve. "I wonderwhether them Boy Scouts can tell by looking at a person's footprintswhether they were made an hour or a month ago. Howsumiver, I don't seethat it makes any difference here. He must have gone this way sometimeand all I have to do is to folly him till I come upon him or the placewhere he wint, which will sarve as well."
Less than half an hour later, the trailer abruptly halted with anotherwondering exclamation. Again he had come upon a velvety bed of moss,where he looked upon the imprint, not of one pair but of two pairs ofshoes. They were side by side, with one set of impressions
as distinctas the other, and all looking so much alike that Mike was struck with anabsurd fancy.
"It can't be that the man has growed four legs or is creeping along withshoes on his hands as well as his faat. Each print looks more like theothers than it does like itself----"
A shiver ran down his spine and he gasped. He recoiled a step,scrutinized the footprints, and then advanced and compared them withwhat he had first come upon.
"Begorra! it was mesilf that made 'em all!"
It was the astounding truth. He was trailing himself. Instead of movingin a straight line as he believed he had been doing from the first, hehad been walking--at least during the latter part of his tramp--in acircle. You know that when a person is lost in a trackless waste he isalmost sure to do this, unless he is a master of woodcraft or uses theutmost precaution against going astray.
Many explanations of this peculiar tendency have been given, but it isprobably due to the fact that one side of every man and woman is moredeveloped and stronger than the other. A right-handed man is morepowerful on that side, and the reverse is the case with a left-handedperson. Very few are ambidextrous. We unconsciously allow for thiscondition in our daily walks and movements, since we are surrounded bylandmarks as may be said; but when these aids are removed, we are swayedby the muscles on one side more than by those on the other. Aright-handed person unconsciously verges to the left, while theleft-handed one does the opposite. The impulse being uniform, even ifslight, his course naturally assumes the form of a circle.
It was hardly to be expected that Mike Murphy should reason out thisexplanation, for he had never before experienced anything of the kind.So far as woodcraft was concerned he could not have been more ignorant.He removed his hat, ran his fingers through his abundant red hair andlaughed, for he could not close his eyes to the comical absurdity of itall.
"It's a mighty qu'ar slip, as me cousin said whin he started to go upstairs and bumped down cellar, and be the same token Mike Murphy is lostto that extent in these Maine woods that he'll niver find his way outtill some one takes his hand and leads him like a blind beggar.
"There must be some plan to figger the thing out," he added, as hereplaced his hat. "I've heerd that there be many signs that do guide onewhen he's off the track. Alvin once told me he had heard an old huntersay that there's more bark on one side of a tree than the ither, but Idisremember whether it was the east or west or north or south side, andI can't strip off the bark to measure it, so that idea will do me nogood. Then I've heerd that the tops of some of the trees dip the mosttoward a certain p'int of the compass, but I don't mind me whether thesame are apple trees or pear trees or some ither kind, and which is theside they nod their heads on. Ah, why did I forgit it?"
He drew forth his small mariner's compass and eagerly studied thedancing needle.
"That little finger ought to p'int to the north, but it don't!" he addeddisgustedly, noting that the flickering bit of steel, instead ofindicating the ornamented "N," fixed upon the "SSW" almost opposite. Hedid not know that the needle is always "true to the Pole," and that allhe had to do was to shift the case around so as to make it correspond.It was beyond his comprehension.
His only recourse--if it should prove a recourse--was to call for help.Peering around among the shaggy columns of bark, without seeing thefirst sign of life, he shouted in the voice which, clear as the tone ofa Stradivarius violin, penetrated farther than even he supposed amongthe forest arches:
"Hello!"
He was thrilled almost instantly by the welcome reply:
"Hello!"