Forests of Maine Part 13

CHAPTER IX.

THE ENCAMPMENT.

Our party of travellers remained at the place of their bivouack more than an hour. At the end of that time, having eaten all that they had cooked, they began to think of resuming their journey. Marco was sitting upon the stone, wishing that he had put down one more potato to roast, when suddenly he perceived a large grey squirrel upon a log near him. The squirrel ran along the log, and Marco immediately rose and went in pursuit of him.

The squirrel ascended a tree, running up the stem. Then he glided along one of the branches till he came to the end of it, when he leaped through the air and caught the end of another branch, which was growing from another tree. This branch, which was very slender, bent down half way to the ground under the squirrel's weight. Bunny ran up the branch, however, as easily as if it remained level. Thus he went along from tree to tree, following, generally, the direction of the path by which Marco had descended in coming from the wagon.

At length he emerged from the wood, just at the point where Marco had fastened the horse. But all farther pursuit of him, on the part of Marco, was suddenly arrested by the astounding fact, which here burst suddenly upon Marco, that the horse and wagon were gone. Marco looked all about, this way and that, to a.s.sure himself that it was the very same place where he had fastened the horse. There could be no doubt of it. There was the very tree to which he had tied him, and the marks of his feet, near it, upon the ground.

Marco was in consternation. He looked all around, and then ran into the road and looked both ways, but no signs of the horse were to be seen. He then hurried back to the edge of the woods and called out in a loud voice:

"Cousin Forester! Isaiah! cousin Forester! our horse has got away."

Isaiah sprang from the seat and ran, quicker than the squirrel had done, up the path. As he came out to the place where Marco was standing, Marco began to say, "There's where I tied him. I fastened him strong to that tree." But Isaiah paid no attention to what he said, but ran directly to the road. He did not stop to look both ways, but taking the road which led towards his home, he ran along as fast as he could go. Marco followed him as far as into the road, and looked after him as long as he could see him. Isaiah was, however, soon out of sight, and Marco went back to find Forester. Forester was coming up the path very leisurely, bringing the bag, with the remaining provisions in it, in one hand, and the hatchet in the other.

"Well, cousin Forester," said Marco, "we are in a fine condition. Our horse and wagon have run away, and now Isaiah has run away too."

"I think Isaiah will come back pretty soon," said Forester. "As to the horse and wagon, that is more doubtful."

"And then what shall we do?" asked Marco.

"I don't know," said Forester. "We are ten miles from any house in one direction, and fifteen in another. But I'm not commander. It's nothing to me. I've only to obey orders. I'll do whatever you say."

"Yes, but I should think you might advise me," said Marco. "Generals get advice from their captains and colonels in battle."

"Oh yes," said Forester; "I'll advise you. I think we had better wait first till Isaiah comes back. Perhaps he'll find the horse."

They waited about fifteen minutes, and then Isaiah came back. But he had no horse. He said he went on until he reached the top of a hill where he could see the road for a long distance before him, but that the horse was not to be seen.

"He'll get home before I should overtake him," said Isaiah.

"Yes," said Marco, "unless he stopped where the tree fell across the road."

"True," said Isaiah; "perhaps he has stopped there."

"Or would not he find his way round the tree through the woods?" asked Marco.

"I don't know," said Isaiah; "perhaps he would."

"Is he a pretty sensible horse?" asked Marco.

"Yes," replied Isaiah; "we have to keep the granary door locked, or else he will open the latch with his teeth, and go in and get the corn."

"Then," said Marco, "I've no doubt that he will find his way around the tree and go home; and so we've got nothing to do but to walk back fifteen miles."

"Or forward ten," said Forester.

"Yes," said Marco; "we can go on, to be sure, if we only knew the way."

Here followed a long discussion as to what it was best to do. Marco thought that, if there was any probability that the horse would have stopped at the tree, it would be better for him to go back and get him; but that, if he had got _by_ the tree, and had gone home, it would be better for Isaiah to go back and get him, while they went forward to the end of the day's journey. He said that the trunk might be sent on.

Forester was himself very much at a loss to know what it was best to do.

As it was farther to go back than it was to go forward, it would be plainly best for them to keep on, were it not for the difficulty of finding their way. But Isaiah told them he thought they would not have any difficulty on that account, as there were very few roads in such a new country. He said that, if they kept the princ.i.p.al road, they could get along without any trouble.

So Marco and Forester concluded to go on, while Isaiah returned. Isaiah said that he was not afraid to return alone. He said also that, if he found the horse at the tree, he would turn about and come and overtake them. And if he did not find him there, he would walk on home, and come the next day with their trunk.

Marco and Forester then went back to the place where they had dined, and collected together all the food which had been left, thinking that they might possibly have occasion to use it, before getting to the end of their journey. They also took the hatchet with them, and bidding Isaiah good-by, they set forth upon their solitary journey.

The road, though rough and narrow for wheels, was very good for a foot-path, and the travellers went on for several miles without difficulty, and with good courage. There was an unbroken forest on each side of the way, with here and there a solitary bird in the topmost branches, singing in melancholy notes, which echoed far and wide under the endless colonnades of trees. After they had gone on about four miles, they met a man coming with a team, who told them that there was no road of any consequence to turn them off, and that they would, therefore, probably find their way without much trouble. They were quite pleased to hear this. In fact, it was some relief to them to know that they were right, so far.

Marco was, however, not much accustomed to walk, and Forester, to accommodate him, advanced slowly. When they had gone about five or six miles, the shades of evening began to draw on. The days were getting shorter at this season of the year, and then, besides, it happened that, on this evening, there were some dark clouds in the west, and the sun was darkened behind them before the regular hour of his going down.

Then, besides, the trees of the forest made it darker in the road in which Marco and Forester were travelling.

Now, just as it was thus beginning to grow dark, they happened to come to a place where the road divided, and Marco and Forester were both puzzled to decide which was the one which they must take. The roads seemed to be nearly equally travelled, though it was so dark that they could not see very well. They examined both as carefully as they could, and finally decided according to the best of their judgment, and went on.

They had some doubt whether they were right, and Forester thought, as they proceeded, that the road appeared somewhat different from the one in which they had been travelling. However, they thought it best to go on. After advancing about two miles, in a very circuitous direction, they came at last to a place where several trees seemed to have been cut away, and there were remains of several log huts. Marco was very much interested in this discovery, and he wanted to examine the huts very particularly. But Forester, when he found that they were not inhabited, thought it best to lose no time, especially as it was now beginning to be quite dark, and he urged Marco to leave the huts and press on.

They went on for half a mile farther, when Marco, seeing a glimmer through the trees, exclaimed that they were coming to some water.

"So it is," said Forester. "It looks like a pond or a river. If it is a river, we're lost."

They walked on a short distance farther, and then they began to hear the rippling of the water. In a few minutes, they were down upon the bank.

It was a small river, flowing rapidly along, between banks overhung with bushes. Marco looked for a bridge, or for some place to cross, but they found none. In fact, the road did not go down to the water, but seemed to lose itself among the trees, before reaching the bank.

"This is not our road," said Forester. "We must go back."

"What road can this be?" asked Marco. "It seems to lead nowhere."

"I presume it is a logging road," replied Forester.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Marco. "Why, I suppose that those huts must have been a logging camp, where the men lived in the winter, when they came here to cut logs; and this is the road that they drew the logs by, down to the water. But this summer it has been neglected. They don't cut the logs in the summer."

"And what shall we do?" asked Marco.

"We must go back to the place where the road branched off," replied Forester.

"Or else go and stay in the huts all night," said Marco.

"Yes," replied Forester, "we can do that. Let us go back and see."

They accordingly went back to the huts. Marco asked Forester whether he thought they had better stay there.

"I don't know," said Forester, "Let us strike a light, and see how the huts look."

Marco took out his match-box, and, after first gathering a few dry sticks, he struck a light, and soon made a little fire. They found a birch tree growing near, and they stripped off some pieces of the bark.

These they laid upon the fire, holding the ends of two long sticks upon them, in such a manner, that, as the pieces of birch bark curled up under the influence of the heat, they curled around the ends of these sticks, thus making flambeaux. These flambeaux, though of rude construction, gave a very excellent light, and Marco and Forester walked about the huts, waving them in the air, and illuminating the whole scene in a very brilliant manner.