Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 11 (19 page)

 
          
           
On he went, looking up into the trees for a furry bunch, behind every log, and
in every rocky hole, longing and hoping to discover his heart's desire. But a
hawk was all he saw above, an ugly snake was the only living thing he found
among the logs, and a fat woodchuck's hind legs vanished down the most attractive
hole. He shot at all three and missed them, so pushed on, pretending that he
did not care for such small game.

 
          
           
"Now this is what I call fun," he said to himself, tramping gayly
along, and at that moment went splash into a mud-hole concealed under the
grass. He sunk up to his knees, and with great difficulty got out by clinging
to the tussocks that grew near. In his struggles the lunch was lost, for the
bottle broke and the pocket where the sandwiches were stored was full of mud. A
woful spectacle was the trim lad as he emerged from the slough, black and
dripping in front, well spattered behind, hatless, and one shoe gone, having
been carelessly left unlaced in the ardor of the chase.

 
          
           
"Here's a mess!" thought poor Corny, surveying himself with great
disgust and feeling very helpless, as well as tired, hungry, and mad.
"Luckily, my powder is dry and my gun safe; so my fun isn't spoiled,
though I do look like a wallowing pig. I've heard of mud baths, but I never
took one before, and I'll be shot if I do again."

 
          
           
So he washed as well as he could, hoping the sun would dry him, picked out a
few bits of bread unspoiled by the general wreck, and trudged on with less
ardor, though by no means discouraged yet.

 
          
           
"I'm too high for any game but birds, and those I don't want. I'll go slap
down, and come out in the valley. Abner said any brook would show the way, and
this rascal that led me into a scrape shall lead me out," he said, as he
followed the little stream that went tumbling over the stones, that increased
as the ground sloped toward the deep ravine, where a waterfall shone like
silver in the sun.

 
          
           
"I'll take a bath if the pool is big enough, and that will set me up.
Shouldn't wonder if I'd got poisoned a bit with some of these vines I've been
tearing through. My hands smart like
fury,
and I guess
the mosquitoes have about eaten my face up. Never saw such clouds of stingers
before," said Corny, looking at his scratched hands, and rubbing his hot face
in great discomfort,—for it was the gnat that drove the lion mad, you remember.

 
          
           
It was easy to say, "I'll follow the brook," but not so easy to do
it; for the frolicsome stream went headlong over rocks, crept under fallen
logs, and now and then hid itself so cleverly that one had to look and listen
carefully to recover the trail. It was long past
noon
when Corny came out near the waterfall, so tired and hungry that he heartily
wished himself back among the party, who had lunched well and were now probably
driving gayly homeward to a good supper.

 
          
           
No chance for a bath appeared, so he washed his burning face and took a rest,
enjoying the splendid view far over valley and intervale through the gap in the
mountain range. He was desperately tired with these hours of rough travel, and
very hungry; but would not own it, and sat considering what to do next, for he
saw by the sun that the afternoon was half over. There was time to go back the
way he had come, and by following the path down the hill he could reach the
hotel and get supper and a bed, or be driven home. That was the wise thing to
do, but his pride rebelled against returning empty-handed after all his plans
and boasts of great exploits.

 
          
           
"I won't go home, to be laughed at by Chris and Abner. I'll shoot
something, if I stay all night. Who cares for hunger and mosquito bites?
Hunters can bear more than that, I guess. The next live thing I see I'll shoot
it, and make a fire and have a jolly supper. Now which way will I go,—up or
down?
A pretty hard prospect, either way."

 
          
           
The sight of an eagle soaring above him seemed to answer his question, and fill
him with new strength and ardor. To shoot the king of birds and take him home
in triumph would cover the hunter with glory. It should be done! And away he
went, climbing, tumbling, leaping from rock to rock, toward the place where the
eagle had alighted. More cuts and bruises, more vain shots, and all the reward
of his eager struggles was a single feather that floated down as the great bird
soared serenely away, leaving the boy exhausted and disappointed in a
wilderness of granite boulders, with no sign of a path to show the way out.

 
          
           
As he leaned breathless and weary against the crag where he had fondly hoped to
find the eagle's nest, he realized for the first time what a fool-hardy thing
he had done. Here he was, alone, without a guide, in this wild region where
there was neither food nor shelter, and night coming on. Utterly used up, he
could not get home now if he had known the way; and suddenly all the tales he had
ever heard of men lost in the mountains came into his head. If he had not been
weak with hunger he would have felt better able to bear it; but his legs
trembled under him, his head ached with the glare of the sun, and a queer
faintness came over him now and then; for the city lad was unused to such
violent exercise, plucky as he was.

 
          
           
"The only thing to do now is to get down to the valley, if I can, before
dark. Abner said there was an old cabin, where the hunters used to sleep,
somewhere round that way. I can try for it, and perhaps shoot something on the
way. May break my bones, but I can't sit and starve up here, and I was a fool
to come. I'll keep the feather anyway, to prove that I really saw an eagle;
that's better than nothing."

 
          
           
Still bravely trying to affect the indifference to danger and fatigue which
hunters are always described as possessing in such a remarkable degree, Corny
slung the useless gun on his back and began the steep descent, discovering now
the perils he had been too eager to see before. He was a good climber, but was
stiff with weariness, and his hands already sore with scratches and poison; so
he went slowly, feeling quite unfit for such hard work. Coming to the ravine,
he found the only road was down its precipitous side to the
valley,
that
looked so safe and pleasant now. Stunted pines grew in the fissures
of the rocks, and their strong roots helped the clinging hands and feet as the
boy painfully climbed, slipped, and swung along, fearing every minute to come
to some impassable barrier in the dangerous path.

 
          
           
But he got on wonderfully well, and was feeling much encouraged, when his foot
slipped, the root he held gave way, and down he went, rolling and bumping to
his death on the rocks below, he thought, as a crash came, and he knew no more.

 
          
           
"Wonder if I'm dead?" was the first idea that occurred to him as he
opened his eyes and saw a brilliant sky above him, all purple, gold, and red.

 
          
           
He seemed floating in the air, for he swayed to and fro on a soft bed, a
pleasant murmur reached his ear, and when he looked down he saw what looked
like clouds, misty and white, below him. He lay a few minutes drowsily musing,
for the fall had stunned him; then, as he moved his hand something pricked it,
and he felt pine-needles in the fingers that closed over them.

 
          
           
"Caught in a tree, by Jupiter!" and all visions of heaven vanished in
a breath, as he sat up and stared about him, wide awake now, and conscious of
many aching bones.

 
          
           
Yes, there he lay among the branches of one of the sturdy pines, into which he
had fallen on his way down the precipice. Blessed little tree!
set
there to save a life, and teach a lesson to a wilful
young heart that never forgot that hour.

 
          
           
Holding fast, lest a rash motion should set him bounding further down, like a
living ball, Corny took an observation as rapidly as possible, for the red
light was fading, and the mist rising from the valley. All he could see was a
narrow ledge where the tree stood, and anxious to reach a safer bed for the
night, he climbed cautiously down to drop on the rock, so full of gratitude for
safety that he could only lie quite still for a little while, thinking of
mother, and trying not to cry.

 
          
           
He was much shaken by the fall, his flesh bruised, his clothes torn, and his
spirit cowed; for hunger, weariness, pain, and danger, showed him what a very
feeble creature he was, after all. He could do no more till morning, and
resigned himself to a night on the mountain side, glad to be there
alive,
though doubtful what daylight would show him. Too
tired to move, he lay watching the western sky, where the sun set gloriously
behind the purple hills. All below was wrapped in mist, and not a sound reached
him but the sigh of the pine, and the murmur of the waterfall.

 
          
           
"This is a first-class scrape. What a fool I was not to go back when I
could, instead of blundering down here where no one can get at me, and as like
as not I can't get out alone! Gun smashed in that confounded fall, so I can't
even fire a shot to call help.
Nothing to eat or drink, and
very likely a day or so to spend here till I'm found, if I ever am.
Chris said, 'Yell, if you want us.' Much good that would do now! I'll try,
though." And getting up on his weary legs, Corny shouted till he was
hoarse; but echo alone answered him, and after a few efforts he gave it up,
trying to accept the situation like a man. As if kind Nature took pity on the
poor boy, the little ledge was soft with lichens and thin grass, and here and
there grew a sprig of checkerberry, sown by the wind, sheltered by the tree,
and nourished by the moisture that trickled down the rock from some hidden
spring. Eagerly Corny ate the sweet leaves to stay the pangs of hunger that
gnawed him, and finished his meal with grass and pine-needles, calling
himself
a calf, and wishing his pasture were wider.

 
          
           
"The fellows we read about always come to grief in a place where they can
shoot a bird, catch a fish, or knock over some handy beast for supper," he
said, talking to himself for company. "Even the old chap lost in the bush
in
Australia
had a savage with him who dug a hole in a tree, and pulled out a nice fat worm
to eat. I'm not lucky enough even to find a sassafras bush to chew, or a bird's
egg to suck. My poor gun is broken, or I might bang away at a hawk, and cook
him for supper, if the bog didn't spoil my matches as it did my lunch. Oh,
well! I'll pull through, I guess, and when it's all over, it will be a jolly
good story to tell."

 
          
           
Then, hoping to forget his woes in sleep, he nestled under the low-growing
branches of the pine, and lay blinking drowsily at the twilight world outside.
A dream came, and he saw the old farm-house in sad confusion, caused by his
absence,—the women crying, the men sober, all anxious, and all making ready to
come and look for him. So vivid was it that he woke himself by crying out,
"Here I am!" and nearly went over the ledge, stretching out his arms
to Abner.

 
          
           
The start and the scare made it hard to go to sleep again, and he sat looking
at the solemn sky, full of stars that seemed watching over him alone there,
like a poor, lost child on the great mountain's stony breast. He had never seen
the world at that hour before, and it made a deep impression on him; for it was
a vast, wild scene, full of gloomy shadows below, unknown dangers around, and a
new sense of utter littleness and helplessness, which taught the boy human
dependence upon Heavenly love as no words, even from his mother's tender lips,
could have done. Thoughts of the suffering his wilfulness had given her wrung a
few penitent tears from him, which he was not ashamed to shed, since only the
kind stars saw them, and better still, he resolved to own the fault, to atone
for it, and to learn wisdom from this lesson, which might yet prove to be a
very bitter one.

 
          
           
He felt better after this little breakdown, and presently his thoughts were
turned from conscience to catamounts again; for sounds in the woods below led
him to believe that the much-desired animal was on the prowl. His excited fancy
painted dozens of them not far away, waiting to be shot, and there he was,
cooped up on that narrow ledge, with a broken gun, unable even to get a look at
them. He felt that it was a just punishment, and after the first regret tried
to comfort
himself
with the fact that he was much
safer where he was than alone in the forest at that hour, for various nocturnal
voices suggested restless and dangerous neighbors.

 
          
           
Presently his wakeful eyes saw lights twinkling far off on the opposite side of
the ravine, and he imagined he heard shouts and shots. But the splash of the
waterfall,
and the rush of the night wind deadened the
sounds to his ear, and drowned his own reply.