CHAPTER IV
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS
Although it was not yet noon, Ralph was as hungry as a young wolf,for he had eaten nothing more than a dish of cold oatmeal and milksince five o'clock that morning, and he had taken no provisionswith him. Assailed now by the pangs of a youthful, healthy, unsatisfiedappetite, he began to wonder what he could manage to "scare up" inthe form of edibles.
Near at hand was one of the numerous small springs with which thesehills abounded. It rilled up out of the earth and rocks and formeda pool of clear water in which cress grew plentifully, furnishinghim with a welcome salad. He gathered a hatful of last autumn'schestnuts---somewhat soggy, to be sure---and, making a small fireof leaves and bark, he proceeded to roast these in the embers: atedious and unsatisfactory process at best. Having thus takenoff the edge of his hunger, he set forth upon his homeward journeyagain, in a new direction.
"The next time I come up here in this neck of the woods I'll havea pocket compass or a watch, at least," he said to himself. "Itwas foolish of me to start off without one, but I've learned alesson today, anyhow. The trouble is, I never dreamed I'd get lost!"
He was headed directly from Pioneer Lake, as he thought, towardthe hills beyond it, and presently, as he began to climb, thescenery grew wilder and more unfamiliar, the trees taller andset more thickly together, the undergrowth almost impenetrable.Still he fought on. It seemed he had never been so far in thisdirection before, and after the first rush of angry despair hadpassed, he felt doggedly curious to learn whither he was going,and what landmark he would see first.
For almost two hours he plodded on, burdened with his rifle and thepair of eagles, scratching his hands and face, tearing his clothes.It was a miserable, heart-breaking tramp, one which might have causeda less plucky lad to sit down and give way to doleful helplessness.Even Ralph felt an uncanny sense of utter loneliness, and heupbraided his own stupidity, as he chose to call it, in wandering sofar afield.
At last he noticed a faint roaring noise at the right, and he turnedin that direction, blindly, aimlessly. As he advanced through theundergrowth the sound grew louder and louder, until finally heemerged from the thicket and stood upon the bank of a deep streamwhich rushed turbulently along and dropped over a ridge, fallingsixty or seventy feet into a cup-like hollow in the rock.
Ralph uttered a cry of delight. "Why, it's my own waterfall! I'vebeen wandering in a big circle all this while, and here I am notfar from my boulder where---ouch!" The sentence ended in a loudwail of agony, for, taking a step forward, the young wayfarer'sfoot had slipped on a loose stone. His ankle was severely wrenched.
For a few moments the pain was intense, almost unendurable. PoorRalph groaned aloud and sank down on the ground, biting his lipsin trying to keep tears of agony from welling to his eyes. Howcould he walk the remaining distance home? Even with an improvisedcrutch made from a forked branch of some tree, it would be well-nighimpossible to travel up and down the stony grades that stretchedbetween the place where he had met with this unfortunate accidentand the farmhouse.
"Oh, if Keno had only not broken away!"
The futile wish was maddening in his present plight. He showeredsharp epithets upon the absent pony, until he remembered the probabilitythat Keno's return without him would be the means of sending someone to the rescue. This was some consolation, though it was butcold comfort in view of the fact that, had Keno not bolted, thismishap would not have occurred.
However, there was no help for it now. Meanwhile, the badly sprainedankle was throbbing painfully, and Ralph's next thought was tothrust it, without taking off his shoe, into the cold runningwater in order to check the swelling. He held his foot there,shivering with relief, then he stretched himself out on the bank ofthe stream, in the warm sunlight. Whereupon, with anxious mind andweary body soothed by the loud splash of the waterfall, with thepain in his ankle considerably relieved, and with a soft, grassynook beside a rock offering repose, it was not very strange that,after closing his eyes drowsily, Ralph sank into a troubled slumber.
When he awoke, the sun was only a little way above the tops of thehighest trees, and long golden shafts of light were slanting downthrough the branches, making an intricate tracery of shadows on theground. The air was beginning to have a decided chill, for thewind had shifted to the west and was blowing the spray of thewaterfall into Ralph's face.
Strange that no one had come, in search of him! Of course hismother could not have hitched Keno to the old buggy and drivenhere, but she might have telephoned to Tom Walsh and asked himto find out what had become of the missing hunter. He made anotherbold attempt to walk, with the aid of a stout pine branch; buthe could not bear to put any weight on that cursed ankle.
"Well, I guess I'm bound to spend the night here," he told himselfgrimly, after several futile starts. "I hope mother'll not worry;she may not have noticed Keno, after all, if he went straight tothe barn. I remember I left the door open. And now what's thefirst thing to be done? Oh, I know: make a fire---and two smokefires for a distress signal."
So he set about doing this, hobbling with difficulty over theuneven ground. The signal fires he placed about fifty feet apart,so that the wind should not confuse them; his camp fire he builtbetween three big rocks that formed a natural oven, over whichhe laid a hastily constructed grill made of green alder withes.On this grill he intended to broil whatever game he could bringdown with his rifle, for supper; and, as luck would have it, hedid not have to wait long before he "bagged" a large gray squirrel,which he dexterously skinned and prepared for cooking.
While it was still daylight he gathered plenty of good firewood,for he realized that having no blanket or poncho he would needto keep up a brisk fire and to sleep as near it as possible.Fortunately, another rock adjoining the fireplace afforded shelteragainst the cool night wind.
The next thing to consider was his bed. The ground was damp inplaces, but if he used leaves for a bed they might take fire andburn him while he slept. So he built another fire in a sort ofhollow at the base of the fourth rock, and after about an hour---duringwhich the squirrel was broiling deliciously---he raked away allthe hot ashes, and curled up on the dried warm ground. This provedto be a fairly comfortable bed and, after eating his nicely brownedsupper, and bathing his ankle again, he replenished the fire,taking care that it should not spread, and lay down beside thesheltering rock.
Twilight deepened into darkness, the stars appeared one by one inthe vast black dome above him, the forest was deathly still savefor the noise of the waterfall which drowned all other sounds.Once, an owl, attracted by the fire, perched on a low overhangingbranch and stared into the flames with great blinking yellow eyes;then, startled by an uneasy movement of the sleeper, it flew awaywith a dismal hoot.
Ralph's dreams were troubled, a medley of combats with featheredfoes, of lengthy altercations with Bill Terrill, of frantic diggingin the ground for impossible gold. Twice he was wakened by twingesof pain, and he lay there, open-eyed, gazing up through the branchesof the stars.
"There's the Pole star and the Pointers," he murmured, to diverthis mind from his suffering. "Of course, the Pointers go aroundthe North star once in twenty-four hours, so that makes a kindof clock. I could find my way home by those stars if I had to,but I can't walk, I can't walk!"
His voice trailed off into silence, and he fell asleep once more.Presently he was wakened, for a third time, by a man's voicecalling his name. Or was this only another dream? He sat upand listened intently. The call sounded from some point back onthe trail, and there could be no mistaking its reality; it wasloud, gruff, yet kindly.
"Ralph! Oh-o, Ralph! Where are you, lad?"
Then came a tremendous clatter of loose stones and a crashing inthe undergrowth.
The lone camper, benighted and forlorn, peered around him on allsides. At first he could see nothing beyond the glow of his ownfire, which intensified the weird shadows of the forest; but hecould hear the shouts and the ringing tramp
of a horse's hoofson the stony ground. He raised his voice in answer to the call.
"This way! Ki-i-o! Here I am!" he yelled excitedly. "Is thatyou, Tom?"
In a minute or two, as his eyes became accustomed to the pitchdarkness beyond the firelight, he beheld the flicker of a lanternshining among the tree-trunks. Simultaneously, he heard the snortingof a startled horse. He stood up, leaning against his rock, andgave a peculiar throaty call that ended in the name "Ke-ee-no-o"---andthen, to his delight, the intelligent old horse responded with aloud whinny of recognition.
The next moment three shadowy forms, those of a man on horseback andtwo others on foot, detached themselves from the enveloping darknessand advanced into the light of Ralph's campfire. One of theunmounted searchers carried a lantern.
They were Tom Walsh,---on Keno,---Jack Durham, and Tom Sherwood.
"What in 'tarnation's the trouble, lad?" demanded Tom, as soonas the searching party had exchanged greetings with Ralph, ferventlyoverjoyed to see them. "We've been looking for you ever sincethree o'clock this afternoon."
Ralph explained the object of his quest.
"I got 'em, too," he added, pointing proudly to the two eagles."But when I started to go home, without Keno, and tried to take ashortcut through the woods, I got lost somehow; and besides, Isprained my ankle, so I can't walk. I just had to wait forsomebody to come after me. I hope mother hasn't been awfullyworried."
"Well, she wasn't exactly what you'd call calm!" replied Tom."But the doc is there at the house now, with her; she might belots worse. Does your ankle hurt bad? Can you ride home?"
"Sure I can! Let's start right away---unless you fellows want torest. You must be tired."
"I'm not," asserted Tom Sherwood. "How about you, Jack?"
The youngest boy gave a little sigh. "It's awfully nice up herein the woods by this fire!" he replied evasively. "Let's warmourselves and---and hear more about Ralph's adventures, and---doyou think Mrs. Kenyon will-----"
"Yes, I do," interrupted his Cousin Tom. "Come on, youngster;you and Ralph get on the nag; Sherwood and I'll walk. Let's beon our way."
So the matter was settled, to Ralph's satisfaction and relief.
Putting out the three fires and sprinkling even the last embersthoroughly with water from the stream, the four friends startedhomeward, with Ralph and Jack mounted on Keno in the lead. Jackcarried the lantern, while Ralph, with one hand on the bridle,the other holding the two eagles tied and balanced across thesaddle, allowed Keno to pick his own way along the trail. Thesagacious animal seemed to know every foot of the path; even inthe gloom of night he made no misstep. Sherwood and Tom followedclose, the latter carrying Ralph's rifle.