Tracks of a Rolling Stone Part 16

Why, it may be asked, did I not try to cross where I had intended? I must confess my want of courage. True, the river here was not half, not a third, of the width of the scene of my disasters; but I was weak in body and in mind. Had anything human been on the other side to see me-to see how brave I was, (alas! poor human nature!)-I could have plucked up heart to risk it. It would have been such a comfort to have some one to see me drown! But it is difficult to play the hero with no spectators save oneself. I shall always have a fellow-feeling with the Last Man: practically, my position was about as uncomfortable as his will be.

One of the worst features of it was, what we so often suffered from before-the inaccessibility of water. The sun was broiling, and the and soil reflected its scorching rays. I was feverish from exhaustion, and there was nothing, nothing to look forward to. Mile after mile I crawled along, sometimes half disposed to turn back, and try the deep but narrow pa.s.sage; then that inexhaustible fountain of last hopes-the Unknown-tempted me to go forward. I persevered; when behold! as I pa.s.sed a rock, an Indian stood before me.

He was as naked as I was. Over his shoulder he carried a spear as long as a salmon rod. Though neither had foreseen the other, he was absolutely unmoved, showed no surprise, no curiosity, no concern. He stood still, and let me come up to him. My only, or rather my uppermost, feeling was gladness. Of course the thought crossed me of what he might do if he owed the white skins a grudge. If any white man had ever harmed one of his tribe, I was at his mercy; and it was certain that he would show me none. He was a tall powerful man, and in my then condition he could have done what he pleased with me. Friday was my model; the red man was Robinson Crusoe. I kneeled at his feet, and touched the ground with my forehead. He did not seem the least elated by my humility: there was not a spark of vanity in him. Indeed, except for its hideousness and brutality, his face was without expression.

I now proceeded to make a drawing, with my finger, in the sand, of a mule in the water; while I imitated by pantomime the struggles of the drowning. I then pointed to myself; and, using my arms as in swimming, shook my head and my finger to signify that I could not swim. I worked an imaginary paddle, and made him understand that I wanted him to paddle me across the river. Still he remained unmoved; till finally I used one argument which interested him more than all the rest of my story. I untied a part of the shirt round one foot and showed him three gold studs. These I took out and gave to him. I also made a drawing of a rifle in the sand, and signified that he would get the like if he went with me to my camp. Whereupon he turned in the direction I was going; and, though unbidden by a look, I did not hesitate to follow.

I thought I must have dropped before we reached his village. This was an osier-bed at the water's side, where the whole river rushed through a rocky gorge not more than fifty to sixty yards broad. There were perhaps nearly a hundred Indians here, two-thirds of whom were women and children. Their habitations were formed by interlacing the tops of the osiers. Dogs' skins spread upon the ground and numerous salmon spears were their only furniture. In a few minutes my arrival created a prodigious commotion. The whole population turned out to stare at me.

The children ran into the bushes to hide. But feminine curiosity conquered feminine timidity. Although I was in the plight of the forlorn Odysseus after his desperate swim, I had no 'blooming foliage' to wind _pe?? ???? ?dea f?t??_. Unlike the Phaeacian maidens, however, the tawny nymphs were all as brave as Princess Nausicaa herself. They stared, and pointed, and buzzed, and giggled, and even touched my skin with the tips of their fingers-to see, I suppose, if the white would come off.

But ravenous hunger turned up its nose at flirtation. The fillets of drying salmon suspended from every bough were a million times more seductive than the dark Naiads who had dressed them. Slice after slice I tore down and devoured, as though my maw were as compendious as Jack the Giant Killer's. This so astonished and delighted the young women that they kept supplying me,-with the expectation, perhaps, that sooner or later I must share the giant's fate.

While this was going on, a conference was being held; and I had the satisfaction of seeing some men pull up a lot of dead rushes, dexterously tie them into bundles, and truss these together by means of spears. They had no canoes, for the very children were amphibious, living, so it seemed, as much in the water as out of it. When the raft was completed, I was invited to embark. My original friend, who had twisted a tow-rope, took this between his teeth, and led the way. Others swam behind and beside me to push and to pull. The force of the water was terrific; but they seemed to care no more for that than fish. My weight sunk the rush bundles a good bit below the surface; and to try my nerves, my crew every now and then with a wild yell dived simultaneously, dragging the raft and me under water. But I sat tight; and with genuine friendliness they landed me safely on the desired sh.o.r.e.

It was quite dark before we set forth. Robinson Crusoe walked on as if he knew exactly where my camp was. Probably the whole catastrophe had by this time been bruited for miles above and below the spot. Five other stalwart young fellows kept us company, each with salmon spear in hand.

The walk seemed interminable; but I had shipped a goodly cargo of latent energy.

When I got home, instead of Samson, I found the camp occupied by half a dozen Indians. They were squatted round a fire, smoking. Each one, so it seemed, had appropriated some article of our goods. Our blankets were over their shoulders. One had William's long rifle in his lap. Another was sitting upon mine. A few words were exchanged with the newcomers, who seated themselves beside their friends; but no more notice was taken of me than of the mules which were eating rushes close to us. How was I, single-handed, to regain possession? That was the burning question. A diplomatic course commanded itself as the only possible one. There were six men who expected rewards, but the wherewithal was held in seisin by other six. The fight, if there were one, should be between the two parties. I would hope to prove, that when thieves fall out honest men come by their own.

There is one adage whose truth I needed no further proof of. Its first line apostrophises the 'G.o.ds and little fishes.' My chief need was for the garment which completes the rhyme. Indians, having no use for corduroy small clothes, I speedily donned mine. Next I quietly but quickly s.n.a.t.c.hed up William's rifle, and presented it to Robinson Crusoe, patting him on the back as if with honours of knighthood. The dispossessed was not well pleased, but Sir Robinson was; and, to all appearances, he was a man of leading, if of darkness. While words were pa.s.sing between the two, I sauntered round to the gentleman who sat cross-legged upon my weapon. He was as heedless of me as I, outwardly, of him. When well within reach, mindful that '_de l'audace_' is no bad motto, in love and war, I suddenly placed my foot upon his chest, tightened the extensor muscle of my leg, and sent him heels over head.

In an instant the rifle was mine, and both barrels c.o.c.ked. After yesterday's immersion it might not have gone off, but the offended Indian, though furious, doubtless inferred from the histrionic att.i.tude which I at once struck, that I felt confident it would. With my rifle in hand, with my suite looking to me to transfer the plunder to them, my position was now secure. I put on a shirt-the only one left to me, by the way-my shoes and stockings, and my shooting coat; and picking out William's effects, divided these, with his ammunition, his carpet-bag, and his blankets, amongst my original friends. I was beginning to gather my own things together, when Samson, leading my horse, unexpectedly rode into the midst of us. The night was far advanced. The Indians took their leave; and added to the obligation by bequeathing us a large fresh salmon, which served us for many a day to come.

As a postscript I may add that I found poor Mary's address on one of her letters, and faithfully kept my promise as soon as I reached pen and ink.

CHAPTER XXVIII

WHAT remains to be told will not take long. Hardships naturally increased as the means of bearing them diminished. I have said the salmon held out for many days. We cut it in strips, and dried it as well as we could; but the flies and maggots robbed us of a large portion of it. At length we were reduced to two small hams; nothing else except a little tea. Guessing the distance we had yet to go, and taking into account our slow rate of travelling, I calculated the number of days which, with the greatest economy, these could be made to last. Allowing only one meal a day, and that of the scantiest, I scored the hams as a cook scores a leg of roast pork, determined under no circ.u.mstances to exceed the daily ration.

No little discipline was requisite to adhere to this resolution. Samson broke down under the exposure and privation; superadded dysentery rendered him all but helpless, and even affected his mind. The whole labour of the camp then devolved on me. I never roused him in the morning till the mules were packed-with all but his blanket and the pannikin for his tea-and until I had saddled his horse for him. Not till we halted at night did we get our ration of ham. This he ate, or rather bolted, raw, like a wild beast. My share I never touched till after I lay down to sleep. And so tired have I been, that once or twice I woke in the morning with my hand at my mouth, the unswallowed morsel between my teeth. For three weeks we went on in this way, never exchanging a word. I cannot say how I might have behaved had Fred been in Samson's place. I hope I should have been at least humane. But I was labouring for my life, and was not over tender-hearted.

Certainly there was enough to try the patience of a better man. Take an instance. Unable one morning to find my own horse, I saddled his and started him off, so as not to waste time, with his spare animal and the three mules. It so happened that our line of march was rather tortuous, owing to some hills we had to round. Still, as there were high mountains in the distance which we were making for, it seemed impossible that anyone could miss his way. It was twenty minutes, perhaps, before I found my horse; this would give him about a mile or more start of me. I hurried on, but failed to overtake him. At the end of an hour I rode to the top of a hill which commanded a view of the course he should have taken. Not a moving speck was to be seen. I knew then that he had gone astray. But in which direction?

My heart sank within me. The provisions and blankets were with him. I do not think that at any point of my journey I had ever felt fear-panic that is-till now. Starvation stared me in the face. My wits refused to suggest a line of action. I was stunned. I felt then what I have often felt since, what I still feel, that it is possible to wrestle successfully with every difficulty that man has overcome, but not with that supreme difficulty-man's stupidity. It did not then occur to me to give a name to the impatience that seeks to gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles.

I turned back, retraced my steps till I came to the track of the mules.

Luckily the ground retained the footprints, though sometimes these would be lost for a hundred yards or so. Just as I antic.i.p.ated-Samson had wound round the base of the very first hill he came to; then, instead of correcting the deviation, and steering for the mountains, had simply followed his nose, and was now travelling due east,-in other words, was going back over our track of the day before. It was past noon when I overtook him, so that a precious day's labour was lost.

I said little, but that little was a sentence of death.

'After to-day,' I began, 'we will travel separately.'

At first he seemed hardly to take in my meaning. I explained it.

'As well as I can make out, before we get to the Dalles, where we ought to find the American outposts, we have only about 150 miles to go. This should not take more than eight or nine days. I can do it in a week alone, but not with you. I have come to the conclusion that with you I may not be able to do it at all. We have still those mountains'-pointing to the Blue Mountain range in the distance-'to cross. They are covered with snow, as you see. We may find them troublesome. In any case our food will only last eight or nine days more, even at the present rate.

You shall have the largest half of what is left, for you require more than I do. But I cannot, and will not, sacrifice my life for your sake.

I have made up my mind to leave you.'

It must always be a terrible thing for a judge to pa.s.s the sentence of death. But then he is fulfilling a duty, merely carrying out a law which is not of his making. Moreover, he has no option-the responsibility rests with the jury; last of all, the sufferer is a criminal. Between the judge's case and mine there was no a.n.a.logy. My act was a purely selfish one-justifiable I still think, though certainly not magnanimous.

I was quite aware of this at the time, but a starving man is not burdened with generosity.

I dismounted, and, without unsaddling the mules, took off their packs, now reduced to a few pounds, which was all the wretched, raw-backed, and half-dead, animals could stagger under; and, putting my blanket, the remains of a ham, and a little packet of tea-some eight or ten tea-spoonfuls-on one mule, I again prepared to mount my horse and depart.

I took, as it were, a sneaking glance at Samson. He was sitting upon the ground, with his face between his knees, sobbing.

At three-and-twenty the heart of a man, or of a woman-if either has any, which, of course, may be doubtful-is apt to play the dynamite with his or her resolves. Water-drops have ever been formidable weapons of the latter, as we all know; and, not being so accustomed to them then as I have become since, the sight of the poor devil's abject woe and dest.i.tution, the thought that illness and suffering were the causes, the secret whisper that my act was a cowardly one, forced me to follow the lines of least resistance, and submit to the decrees of destiny.

One more page from my 'Ride,' and the reader will, I think, have a fair conception of its general character. For the last two hours the ascent of the Blue Mountains had been very steep. We were in a thick pine forest. There was a track-probably made by Indians. Near the summit we found a spring of beautiful water. Here we halted for the night. It was a snug spot. But, alas! there was nothing for the animals to eat except pine needles. We lighted our fire against the great up-torn roots of a fallen tree; and, though it was freezing hard, we piled on such ma.s.ses of dead boughs that the huge blaze seemed to warm the surrounding atmosphere.

I must here give the words of my journal, for one exclamation in it has a sort of schoolboy ring that recalls the buoyancy of youthful spirits, the spirits indeed to which in early life we owe our enterprise and perseverance:

'As I was dozing off, a pack of hungry wolves that had scented us out set up the most infernal chorus ever heard. In vain I pulled the frozen buffalo-robe over my head, and tried to get to sleep. The demons drew nearer and nearer, howling, snarling, fighting, moaning, and making a row in the perfect stillness which reigned around, as if h.e.l.l itself were loose. For some time I bore it with patience. At length, jumping up, I yelled in a voice that made the valley ring: You devils! will you be quiet? The appeal was immediately answered by silence; but hearing them tuning up for a second concert, I threw some wood on the blazing fire and once more retired to my lair. For a few minutes I lay awake to admire a brilliant Aurora Borealis shooting out its streams of electric light.

Then, turning over on my side, I never moved again till dawn.'

The first objects that caught my eye were the animals. They were huddled together within a couple of yards of where we lay. It was a horrible sight. Two out of the three mules, and Samson's horse, had been attacked by the wolves. The flanks of the horse were terribly torn, and the entrails of both the mules were partially hanging out. Though all three were still standing with their backs arched, they were rapidly dying from loss of blood. My dear little 'Strawberry'-as we called him to match William's 'Cream' and my mare were both intact.

A few days after this, Samson's remaining horse gave out. I had to surrender what remained of my poor beast in order to get my companion through. The last fifty miles of the journey I performed on foot; sometimes carrying my rifle to relieve the staggering little mule of a few pounds extra weight. At long last the Dalles hove in sight. And our cry, 'The tents! the tents!' echoed the joyous 'Thala.s.sa! Thala.s.sa!' of the weary Greeks.

CHAPTER XXIX

'WHERE is the tent of the commanding officer?' I asked of the first soldier I came across.

He pointed to one on the hillside. 'Ags for Major Dooker,' was the Dutch-accented answer.

Bidding Samson stay where he was, I made my way as directed. A middle-aged officer in undress uniform was sitting on an empty packing-case in front of his tent, whittling a piece of its wood.

'Pray sir,' said I in my best Louis Quatorze manner, 'have I the pleasure of speaking to Major Dooker?'

'Tucker, sir. And who the devil are you?'

Let me describe what the Major saw: A man wasted by starvation to skin and bone, blackened, almost, by months of exposure to scorching suns; clad in the shreds of what had once been a shirt, torn by every kind of convict labour, stained by mud and the sweat and sores of mules; the rags of a shooting coat to match; no head covering; hands festering with sores, and which for weeks had not touched water-if they could avoid it.

Such an object, in short, as the genius of a Phil May could alone have depicted as the most repulsive object he could imagine.

'Who the devil are you?'

'An English gentleman, sir, travelling for pleasure.'

He smiled. 'You look more like a wild beast.'

'I am quite tame, sir, I a.s.sure you-could even eat out of your hand if I had a chance.'

'Is your name c.o.ke?'