CHAPTER XXXII
ALAN SUCCUMBS TO EXHAUSTION
The boys were up at dawn. Not an article had the marauders left butthe two water canteens which had fortunately been left hanging fromthe low branches of a pine. It was useless to look for more--therewas nothing more to be found.
"Anyway," laughed Ned, "it leaves us in light marching order and wecan make better time. I'm glad we had a good supper."
As no breakfast was in sight the two boys filled the water bottlesat the creek in the valley, and at five o'clock, taking theirbearings due east, Ned and Alan struck upwards through the pinewoods. It was a not unpleasant climb while the boys were fresh, butas the slope grew more precipitous the work began to tell. At oneo'clock the crest was reached.
"How would you like a piece of broiled bacon, some pancakes and acup of coffee, Ned?" asked Alan as they paused to rest.
"In the middle of the day and on the top of a mountain I alwaysprefer plain water," laughed Ned in reply. "Here's to you!"
With a big drink from the lukewarm canteens the boys did not pauselong.
"To-night," continued Ned, "we ought to sleep high up in thefoothills over there."
With that inspiration the sore-footed and jaded lads made good timegoing down the slope. Then another rivulet was encountered, inwhich they bathed and by which they rested a spell. Alan would havebeen glad to pass the night here, but Ned urged him on, and as nightfell again the hungry, exhausted boys found themselves far up on thenew slope. Then they slept again, restlessly and on the rockyground, for they had abandoned their blankets.
The boys did not wait for daylight. In the half dawn they wereafoot.
"Take another hitch in your belt, chum, and don't think of thePlacida." laughed Ned. "We'll make it all right, somehow."
Stiff in limb, their feet twitching with the pain of blisters, Nedand Alan toiled slowly through the last of the pines and out intothe rocky higher slopes of the range. It was like climbing anupright wall, Alan said, but the pain of going on was less than thedespair of giving up. A little after six o'clock Ned, ahead, pulledhimself breathless to the highest point.
Alan stopped a little below and waited in anxiety. Before he couldask whether it was the last ridge, Ned's voice broke out into ashout.
"Come on, old man, we're all right. There's old Wilson, thegrandest mountain peak in the world. Hurrah for Mount Wilson!"
But there was no echo to his exclamation. Poor Alan, succumbing topain and exhaustion, had sunk insensible to the ground. In anothermoment Ned was at his chum's side. Forcing some water betweenAlan's lips and bathing his face with some more of the preciousliquid, Ned soon brought him back to consciousness. Alan sprang upin chagrin, and with tears in his eyes insisted that he had onlystumbled and fallen. But Ned knew the truth. His friend's brighteyes and feverish skin told that his condition was grave.
The unseen tears came to Ned's eyes, for it was at least thirtymiles to more water and the plains. And should they even reach theChusco, he could see only death in the desert.
"You'll feel better in the cool of the woods down there," said Nedgently, "and maybe we can kill a rabbit. Hurrah, come on, Alan!Brace up. It's all down hill, now. Here's for the woods andbroiled rabbit!"
In a new spurt of life another start was made and the two chums setout down the slope. In one of Ned's hands was a rock. It was to bethe death warrant of any small animal, and his eyes were busyexamining each sheltered rocky nook and bush. Suddenly a feverishhand caught his.
"Look," whispered Alan.
Ned's eyes followed his chum's gaze.
It was a spiral of thin smoke in the trees below.
With a shout, Ned sprang forward. Then he turned. Alan wasstanding still. Ned's heart grew cold:
"See the smoke," Alan was repeating, "see the nice smoke. Maybeit's a house on fire."
His friend was delirious. Ned flew to his side once more and againhis touch revived the exhausted boy. Almost five days of wanderingand the exhausting toil on the mesa had proved too much for the moredelicate Alan, and Ned realized with sickening horror that thesituation was critical.
"I'm all right, Ned," answered Alan when his chum was once more withhim; "just a little lightheaded. But that's all."
What was to be done? The smoke might be that of a forest fire. Andit might mean Indians. But even an enemy is welcome when starvationand death confronts one. Almost at the end of his own resources,the determined Ned forced himself into a last effort. He used nowords of persuasion, for Alan allowed Ned to take his hand, andthus, silently and slowly, the two moved forward again. Perhapsanother half mile was made between rocks and down gullies and thenAlan exclaimed pitifully:
"It's no use, Ned, I can't, I can't. My feet." Burying hisfevered face in his hands, the boy wept, partly in pain and partlybecause he knew that he was holding back his chum.
At such periods Ned Napier was at his best. With kind words hesought to encourage his friend. He used the little water left tobathe Alan's face, and the last of his shirt in binding anew hisfriend's bleeding feet. He tried to joke and speculated on thepossibilities of the smoke beyond them, but it was without avail.Poor Alan could not rise again. The fever of exhaustion was on himand with a last appeal to Ned to leave him the boy threw himself onthe ground and fainted away.
There was no doubt now as to what was to be done. Unless he couldbring help to his friend in a short time Ned knew it would meandeath. And that meant death for both, for young Napier would neverabandon his friend. Like a drunken man Ned turned and stumbledforward.