Chapter IV. The Haunted Forest

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　As the two boys sat before their camp fire that night, aftermaking their plan, they were far from feeling gloomy. Anotherrevulsion had come. Safe, for the moment, after their recent runfor life, it seemed to them that they were safe for all time.They were rested, they had eaten good food in plenty, and thefire was long since but a dim red blur on the horizon. Ashes,picked up by wandering puffs of wind, still floated here andthere among the burned tree trunks, and now and then a shower ofsparks burst forth, as a bough into which the flames had eatendeep, broke and fell to the ground; but fear had gone from thelads, and, in its place, came a deep content. They were used tothe forest, and in the company of each other they felt neitherloneliness nor despair.

　　"It's good here," said Paul who was a reader and a philosopher."I guess a fellow's life looks best to him just after he'sthought he was going to lose it, but didn't."

　　"I think that's true," said Henry, glancing toward the farhorizon, where the red blur still showed under the twilight."But that was just a little too close for fun."

　　But his satisfaction was even deeper than Paul's. The wildernessand its ways made a stronger appeal to him. Paul, without Henry,would have felt loneliness and fear, but Henry alone, would havefaced the night undaunted. Already the great forest was puttingupon him its magic spell.

　　"Have you eaten enough, Paul?" he asked.

　　"I should like to eat more, but I'm afraid I cannot find a placefor it," replied Paul ruefully.

　　Henry laughed. He felt himself more than ever Paul's protectorand regarded all his weaknesses with kindly tolerance. There thetwo lay awhile, stretched out on the soft, warm earth, watchingthe twilight deepen into night. Henry was listening to the voiceof the wilderness, which spoke to him in such pleasant tones. Heheard a faint sighing, like some one lightly plucking the stringsof a guitar, and he knew that it was the wandering breeze amongthe burned boughs; he heard now and then a distant thud, and heknew that it was the fall of a tree, into whose trunk the flameshad bit deeply; as he lay with his ear to the earth he heard morethan once a furtive footfall as light as air, and he knew thatsome wild animal was passing. But he had no fear, the fire was aring of steel about them.

　　Paul heard few of these sounds, or if hearing them he paid noheed. The wilderness was not talking to him. He was merely inthe woods and he was very glad indeed to have his strong andfaithful comrade beside him.

　　The twilight slipped away and the night came, thick and dark.The red blur lingered, but the faintest line of pink under thedark horizon, and the scorched tree trunks that curved likecolumns in a circle around them became misty and unreal. Despitehimself Paul began to feel a little fear. He was a brave boy,but this was the wilderness, the wilderness in the dark, peopledby wild animals and perhaps by wilder men, and they were lost init. He moved a little closer to his comrade. But Henry, intowhose mind no such thoughts had come, rose presently, and heapedmore wood on the fire. He was merely taking an ordinaryprecaution, and this little task finished, he spoke to Paul in avein of humor, purposely making his words sound very big.

　　"Mr. Cotter," he said, "it seems to me that two worthy gentlemenlike ourselves who have had a day of hard toil should retire forthe night, and seek the rest that we deserve."

　　"What you say is certainly true, Mr. Ware," responded Paul whohad a lively fancy, "and I am glad to see that we have happenedupon an inn, worthy of our great merits, and of our high positionin life. This, you see, Mr. Ware, is the Kaintuckee Inn, a mostspacious place, noted for its pure air, and the great abundanceof it. In truth, Mr. Ware, I may assert to you that theventilation is perfect."

　　"I agree, Mr. Cotter," said Henry, pursuing the humor. "It isindeed a noble place. We are not troubled by any guest, beneathus in quality, nor, are we crowded by any of our fellow lodgers."

　　"True! True!" said Paul, his bright eyes shining with his quickspirit, "and it is a most noble apartment that we have chosen. Ihave seldom been in one more spacious. My eyes are good, butgood as they are I cannot see the ceiling, it is so high. I lookto right and left, and the walls are so far away that they arehidden in the dark."

　　"Correctly spoken, Mr. Cotter," said Henry taking up the threadof talk, "and our inn has more than size to speak for it. It isfurnished most beautifully. I do not know of another that has init so good a larder. Its great specialty is game. It has too amost wonderful and plenteous supply of pure fresh water and thatbeing so I propose that we get a drink and go to bed."

　　The two boys went down to the little brook that ran near, anddrank heartily. They then returned within the ring of fire.

　　They were thoroughly tired and sleepy, and they quickly threwthemselves down upon the soft warm earth, pillowing their headson their arms, and the great Kaintuckee Inn bent over them a roofof soft, summer skies.

　　But the wilderness never sleeps, and its people knew that nightthat a stranger breed was abroad among them. The wind rose alittle, and its song among the burned branches became by turns amusic and a moan. The last cinder died, the earth cooled, andthe forest creatures began to stir in the woodland aisles wherethe fire had passed. The disaster had come and gone, and perhapsit was already out of their memories forever. Rabbits timidlysought their old nests. A wild cat climbed a tree, scarcely yetcool beneath his claws, and looked with red and staring eyes atthe ring of fire that formed a core of light in the forest, andthe two extraordinary beings that slept within its shelter. Adeer came down to the brook to drink, snorted at the sight of thered gleam among the trees, and then, when the strange odor cameon the wind to its nostrils, fled in wild fright through theforest.

　　The news, in some way unknown to man, was carried to all theforest creatures. A new species, strange, unattainable, had comeamong them, and they were filled with curiosity. Even the weakwho had need to fear the strong, edged as near as they dared, andgazed at the singular beings who lay in the midst of the redblaze. The wild cat crawled far out on bare bough, and stared,half afraid, half curious, and angry at the intrusion. He couldsee over the red blaze, and he saw the boys stretched uponthe their faces, very white to the eye of the forest, upturned tothe sky. To human gaze they would have seemed as twodead, but the keen eyes of the wild cat saw their chests risingand falling with deep regular breaths.

　　The darkness deepened and then after a while began to lighten. Abeautiful clear moon came out and sheathed all the burned forestin gleaming silver.

　　The boys were still far away in a happy slumber. The wild catfled in alarm at the light, and timid things drew back fartheramong the trees. Time passed, and the red ring of fire aboutPaul Henry sank. Hasty and tired, they had not laid up enoughwood to last out the night, and the flames now died, one by one.Then the coals smoldered and after a while they too began to goout, one by one. The red ring of fire that inclosed the twoboys, was slowly going away. It broke into links, and then thelinks went out.

　　Light clouds came up from the west, and were drawn, like a veil,across the sky. The moon began to fade, the silver armor meltedaway from the trees, and the wild cat that had come back couldscarcely see the two strange beings, keen though his eyes were,so dense was the shadow where they lay. The wild things, stilldevoured with curiosity, pressed nearer. The terrible red lightthat filled their souls with dread, was gone, and the forest hadlost half its terror. There was a ring of eyes about Henry andPaul, but they yet abode in glorious slumberland, peaceful andhappy.

　　Suddenly a new note came into the sounds of the wilderness, onethat made the timid creatures tremble again with dread. It wasfaint and very far, more like a quaver brought down upon thewind, but the ring of eyes drew back into the forest, and then,when the quaver came a second time, the rabbits and the deerfled, not to return. The lips of the wild cat contracted into asnarl, but his courage was only of the moment, he scampered awayand he did not stop until he had gone a full mile. Then heswiftly climbed the tallest tree that he could find, and hid inits top.

　　The ring of eyes was gone, as the ring of fire had died, butHenry and Paul slept on, although there was full need for them tobe awake. The long, distant quaver, like a whine, but withsomething singularly ferocious in its note came again on thewind, and, far away, a score of forms, phantom and dusky, in theshadow were running fast, with low, slim bodies, and outstretchednostrils that had in them a grateful odor of food, soon to come.Nature had given to Henry Ware a physical mechanism of greatstrength, but as delicate as that of a watch. Any jar to thewheels and springs was registered at once by the minute hand ofhis brain. He stirred in his sleep and moved one hand in atroubled way. He was not yet awake, but the minute hand wasquivering, and through all his wonderfully sensitive organism ranthe note of alarm. He stirred again and then abruptly sat up,his eyes wide open, and his whole frame tense with a new andterrible sensation. He saw the dead coals, where the fire hadbeen; the long, quavering and ferocious whine came to his ears,and, in an instant, he understood. It was well for the two thatHenry was by nature a creature of the forest. He sprang to hisfeet and with one sweeping motion pulled Paul to his also.

　　"Up! Up, Paul!" he cried. "The fire is out, and the wolves arecoming!"

　　Paul's physical senses were less acute and delicate than Henry's,and he did not understand at once. He was still dazed, andgropingwith his hands in the dusk, but Henry gave him no time.

　　"It's our lives, Paul!" he cried. Another enemy as bad as thefire is after us!"

　　Not twenty feet away grew a giant beech, spreading out low andmighty boughs, and Henry leaped for it, dragging Paul after him.

　　"Up you go!" he cried, and Paul, not yet fully awake,instinctively obeyed the fierce command. Then Henry leapedlightly after him and as they climbed higher among the boughs theferocious whine burst into a long terrible howl, and the duskyforms, running low, gaunt and ghostly in the shadow, shot fromthe forest, and hurled themselves at the beech tree.

　　Henry, despite all his courage, shuddered, and while he clutcheda bough tightly with one hand put the other upon his comrade tosee that he did not fall. He could feel Paul trembling in hisgrasp.

　　The two looked down upon the inflamed red eyes, the cruellysharp, white teeth and slavering mouths, and, still panting fromtheir climb, each breathed a silent prayer of thankfulness. Theyhad been just in time to escape a pack of wolves that howledhorribly for a while, and then sat upon their haunches, staringsilently up at the sweet new food, which they believed would fallat last into their mouths.

　　Paul at last said weakly:

　　"Henry, I'm mighty glad you're a light sleeper. If it had beenleft to me to wake up first I'd have woke up right in the middleof the stomachs of those wolves."

　　"Well, we're here and we're safe for the present," said Henrywho never troubled himself over what was past and gone, "and Ithink this is a beech tree. I know that you and I, Paul, willneversee another so big and friendly and good as it is."

　　Paul laughed, now with more heart.

　　"You are right, Henry," he said. "You are a mighty good friend,Mr. Big Beech Tree, and as a mark of gratitude I shall kiss youright in the middle of your honest barky old forehead," and hetouched his lips lightly to the great trunk. Paul was animaginative boy, and his whim pleased him. Such a thought wouldnot have come to Henry, but he liked it in Paul.

　　"I think it's past midnight, Paul," said Henry, and we've beenlucky enough to have had several hours sleep."

　　"But they'll go away as soon as they realize they can't get us,"said Paul, and then we can climb down and build a new and biggerring of fire about us."

　　Henry shook his head.

　　"They don't realize it," he replied. "I know they expect justthe contrary, Paul. They are as sure as a wolf can be that wewill drop right into their mouths, just ready and anxious to beeaten. Look at that old fellow with his forepaws on the tree!Did you ever see such confidence?"

　　Paul looked down fearfully, and the eyes of the biggest of thewolves met his, and held him as if he were charmed. The wolfbegan to whine and lick his lips, and Paul felt an insane desireto throw himself down.

　　"Stop it, Paul!" Henry cried sharply.

　　Paul jerked his eyes away, and shuddered from head to foot.

　　"He was asking me to come," he said hysterically, "and I don'tknow how it was, but for a moment I felt like going."

　　"Yes and a warm welcome he would have given you," said Henrystill sharply. "Remember that your best friend just now is notMr. Big Wolf, but Mr. Big Beech Tree, and it's a wise boy whosticks to his best friend."

　　"not likely to forget it," said Paul.

　　He shuddered again at the memory of the terrible, haunting eyesthat had been able for a brief moment to draw him downward. Thenhe clasped the friendly tree more tightly in his arms, and Henrysmiled approval.

　　"That's right, Paul," he said, "hold fast. I'd a heap rather beup here than down there."

　　Paul felt himself with his hand.

　　"I'm all in one piece up here," he said, "and I think that's goodfor a fellow who wants to live and grow."

　　Henry laughed with genuine enjoyment. Paul was getting back hissense of humor, and the change meant that his comrade was oncemore strong and alert. Then the larger boy looked down at theirbesiegers, who were sitting in a solemn circle, gazing now at thetwo lads and now at the venison, hanging from the boughs ofanother tree very near. In the dusk and the shadows they were aterrible company, gaunt and ghostly, gray and grim.

　　For a long time the wolves neither moved nor uttered a sound;they merely sat on their haunches and stared upward at the livingprey that they felt would surely be theirs. The clouds, caughtby wandering breezes, were stripped from the face of the sky, andthe moonlight came out again, clear, and full, sheathing thescorched trunks once more in silver armor, and stretching greatblankets of light on the burned and ashy earth. It fell too onthe gaunt figures of the gray wolves, but the silent and deadlycircle did not stir. In the moonlight they grew more terrible,the red eyes became more inflamed and angry, because they had towait so long for what they considered theirs by right, thesnarling lips were drawn back a little farther, and the sharpwhite teeth gleamed more cruelly.

　　Time passed again, dragging slowly and heavily for the besiegedboys in the tree, but the wolves, though hungry, were patient.Strong in union they were lords of the forest, and they felt nofear. A shambling black bear, lumbering through the woods,suddenly threw up his nose in the wind, and catching the strongpungent odor, wheeled abruptly, lumbering off on another course.The wild cat did not come back, but crouched lower in his treetop; the timid things remained hidden deep in their nests andburrows.

　　It was a new kind of game that the wolves had scented and drivento the boughs, something that they had never seen before, but theodor was very sweet and pleasant in their nostrils. It was atidbit that they must have, and, red-eyed, they stared at the twostrange, toothsome creatures, who, stirred now and then in thetree, and who made queer sounds to each other. When they heardthese occasional noises the pack would reply with a longferocious whine that seemed to double on itself and give backechoes from every point of the compass. In the still night itwent far, and the timid things, when they heard it, trembled allover in their nests and burrows. Then the leader, the largestand most terrible of the pack would stretch himself upon the treetrunk, and claw at the scorched bark, but the food he craved wasstill out of reach.

　　They noticed that the strange creatures in the tree began to moveoftener, and to draw their limbs up as if they were growingstiff, and then their longdrawn howl grew longer and moreferocious than ever; the game, tired out, would soon drop intotheir mouths. But it did not, the two creatures made sounds asif they were again encouraging each other, and the hearts of thewolves filled with rage and impatience that they should becheated so long.

　　The night advanced; the moonlight faded again and the dark hoursthat come before the dawn were at hand. The forest became blackand misty like a haunted wood, and the dim forms of the wolveswere the ghosts that lived in it. But to their sharp red eyesthe dark was nothing; they saw the two beings in the tree do avery queer thing; they tore strips from themselves, so it seemedto the wolves, from their clothing in fact, and wound it abouttheir bodies and a bough of the tree against which they rested.But the wolves did not understand, only they knew that thecreatures did not stir again or make any kind of noise for a longtime.

　　When the darkness was thickest the wolves grew hot withimpatience. Already they smelled the dawn and in the light theircourage would ooze. Could it be that the food they coveted wouldnot fall into their mouths? The dread suspicion filled everyvein of the old leader with wrath, and he uttered a long terriblehowl of doubt and anger; the pack took up the note and the lonelyforest became alive with its echoes. But the creatures in thetree stirred only a little, and made very few sounds. Theyseemed to be safe and content, and the wolves raged back andforth, leaping and howling.

　　The old leader felt the dark thin and lighten, and the scent ofthe coming dawn became more oppressive to him. A little needleof fear shot into his heart, and his muscles began to grow weak.He saw afar in the east the first pale tinge, faint and gray, ofthe dreadful light that he feared and hated. His howl now wasone of mingled anger and disappointment, and the pack imitatedthe note of the king.

　　The black veil over the forest gave way to one of gray. Thedreadful bar of light in the east broadened and deepened, andbecame beaming, intense and brilliant. The needle of terror atthe heart of the gray wolf stabbed and tore. His red eyes couldnot face the great red sun that swung now above the earth,shooting its fierce beams straight at him. The dark, so kindlyand so encouraging, beloved of his kind, was gone, and the earthswam in a hideous light, every ray of which was hostile. Hisblood changed to water, his knees bent under him, and then, toturn fear to panic, came a powerful odor on the light, morningwind. It was like the scent of the two strange, succulentcreatures in the tree, but it was the odor of many-many makestrength he knew-and the great gray wolf was sore afraid.

　　The sun shot higher and the world was bathed in a luminous goldenglow. The master-wolf cast one last, longing look at the lostfood in the tree, and then, uttering a long quavering howl ofterror, which the pack took up and carried in many echoes, fledheadlong through the forest with his followers close behind, allrunning low and fast, and with terror hot at their heels. Theirgaunt, gray bodies were gone in a moment, like ghosts that vanishat the coming of the day.

　　"Rouse up, Paul!" cried Henry. "They are gone, afraid of thesun, and it's safe for us now on the ground."

　　"And mighty glad I am!" said Paul. "The great Inn of Kaintuckeewas not so hospitable after all, or at least some of our fellowguests were too hungry."

　　"It's because we were careless about our fire," said Henry. "Ifwe had obeyed all the rules of the inn, we should have had notrouble. jump down, Paul!"

　　Henry dropped lightly and cheerfully to the ground. As usual helet the past and its dangers slip, forgotten, behind him. Paulalighted beside him and the wilderness witnessed the strangesight of two stout boys, running up and down, pounding andrubbing their hands and arms, uttering little cries of pain, asthe blood flowed at first slowly and with difficulty in theircramped limbs, and then of delight, as the circulation becamefree and easy.

　　"Now for breakfast," said Henry. "It will be easy, as Mr.Landlord has kept the venison hanging on the tree there for us."

　　Henry was breathing the fresh morning air, and rejoicing in thesunlight. His wonderful physical nature had cast away allthought of fear, but Paul, who had the sensitive mind anddelicate fancy, was still troubled.

　　"Henry," he said, "I'm not willing to stay here, even to eat thedeer meat. All through those hours we were up there it was ahaunted forest for me. I don't want to see this spot any more,and I'd like to get away from it just as soon as I can."

　　Was it some instinct? or an unseen warning given to Paul, andregistered on his sensitive mind, as a photographic plate takeslight? To the keen nose of the old wolf leader an alarming odorhad come with the dawn! Was a kindred signal sent to Paul?Henry stared at his comrade in surprise, but he knew that he andPaul were different, and he respected those differences whichmight be either strength or weakness.

　　"All right, if you wish it, Paul," he said, lightly. "There aremany rooms in the Kaintuckee Inn, and if the one we have doesn'tsuit us we'll just take another. Wait till I cut this venisondown, and we'll move without paying our score."

　　"I guess we paid that to the wolves," said Paul, smiling alittle.

　　Henry detached the venison and divided it. Then each took hisshare, and they moved swiftly away among the trees, still keepingto the general course of the river. They came presently to alarge area of unburned forest, thick with foliage and undergrowthand, without hesitation, they plunged into it. Henry was infront and suddenly to his keen ears came a sound which he knewwas not one of the natural noises of the forest. He listened andit continued, a beat, faint but regular and steady. He knew thatit was made by footfalls, and he knew, too, that in thewilderness everyone is an enemy until he is proved to be afriend. They were in the densest of the undergrowth, and thoughtand action came to him on the heels of each other, swift aslightning.

　　"Sink down, Paul! Sink down!" he cried, and grasping his comradeby the shoulder he bore him down among the thick bushes, goingdown with him.

　　"Don't move for your life!" he whispered. Men are about to passand they cannot be our kind!"

　　Paul at once became as still as death. He too under the strainof the wilderness life and the need of caring for oneself wasbecoming wonderfully acute of the senses and ready of action.The two boys crouched close together, their heads below the topsof the bushes, although they could see between the leaves andtwigs, and neither moved a hair.

　　Almost hidden in the foliage a line of Indian warriors, likedusky phantoms, passed, in single file, and apparently steppingin one another's tracks. Well for the boys that Paul had felthis impulse to leave the vicinity of the besieged tree, becausethe course of the warriors would carry them very near it, andthey could not fail to detect the alien presence.

　　But no such suspicion seemed to enter their minds now, and, likethe wolves, they were traveling fast, but southward.

　　The boys stared through the leaves and twigs, afraid butfascinated. They were fourteen in all. Henry counted them-butnever a warrior spoke a word, and the grim line was seen but amoment and then gone, though their dark painted faces longremained engraved, like pictures, on the minds of both. But toPaul it was, for the instant, like a dream. He saw them, andthen he did not. The leaves of the bushes rustled a little whenthey passed, and then were still.

　　"They must be Southern Indians," whispered Henry. "Cherokeesmost likely. They come up here now and then to hunt, but theyseldom stay long, for fear of the more warlike and powerfulNorthern Indians, who come down to Kaintuckee for the samepurpose, at least that's what I heard Ross and Sol say.

　　"Well, they did seem to be traveling fast," breathed Paul, "andI'm mighty glad of it. Do you think, Henry, they could have doneany harm at Wareville?"

　　Henry shook his head.

　　"I have no such fear," he said. "We are a good long distancefrom home, and they've probably gone by without ever hearing ofthe place. Ross has always said that no danger was to be dreadedfrom the south."

　　"I guess it's so," said Paul with deep relief, "but I think,Henry, that you and I ought to go down to the river's bank, andbuild that raft as soon as we can."

　　"All right," said Henry calmly. "But we'll first eat ourvenison."

　　They quickly did as they agreed, and felt greatly strengthenedand encouraged after a hearty breakfast. Then with bold heartsand quick hands they began their task.