Chapter III. The Hut on the Islet

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　Henry Ware waited at least a quarter of an hour by the creek onthe exact spot at which he and Solomon Hyde, called the shiftlessone, had parted, but he knew all the while that his last comradewas not coming. The same powerful and mysterious hand that sweptthe others away had taken him, the wary and cunning Shif'lessSol, master of forest lore and with all the five senses developedto the highest pitch. Yet his powers had availed him nothing,and the boy again felt that cold chill running down his spine.

　　Henry expected the omnipotent force to come against him, also,but his instinctive caution made him turn and creep into thethickest of the forest, continuing until he found a place in thebushes so thoroughly hidden that no one could see him ten feetaway. There he lay down and rapidly ran over in his mind theevents connected with the four disappearances. They were few,and he had little on which to go, but his duty to seek his fourcomrades, since he alone must do it, was all the greater. Such athought as deserting them and fleeing for his own life neverentered his mind. He would not only seek them, but he wouldpenetrate the mystery of the power that had taken them.

　　It was like him now to go about his work with calmness andmethod. To approach an arduous task right one must possessfreshness and vigor, and one could have neither without sleep.His present place of hiding seemed to be as secure as any thatcould be found. So composing himself he took all chances andsought slumber. Yet it needed a great effort of the will to calmhis nerves, and it was a half hour before he began to feel any ofthe soothing effect that precedes sleep. But fall asleep he didat last, and, despite everything, he slept soundly until themorning.

　　Henry did not awake to a bright day. The sun had risen, but itwas obscured by gray clouds, and the whole heavens were somber.A cold wind began to blow, and with it came drops of rain. Heshivered despite the enfolding blanket. The coming of themorning had invariably brought cheerfulness and increase ofspirits, but now he felt depression. He foresaw heavy rainagain, and it would destroy any but the deepest trail. Moreover,his supplies of food were exhausted and he must replenish them insome manner before proceeding further.

　　A spirit even as bold and strong as Henry's might well havedespaired. He had found his comrades, only to lose them again,and the danger that had threatened them, and the elements aswell, now threatened him, too. An acute judge of sky and air, heknew that the rain, cold, insistent, penetrating, would fall allday, and that he must seek shelter if he would keep his strength.The Indians themselves always took to cover at such times.

　　He wrapped the blanket around himself, covering his body wellfrom neck to ankle, putting his rifle just inside the fold, butwith his hand upon it, ready for instant use if it should beneeded. Then he started, walking straight ahead until he came tothe crown of a little hill. The clouds meanwhile thickened, andthe rain, of the kind that he had foreseen and as cold as ice,was blown against him. The grass and bushes were reeking, andhis moccasins became sodden. Despite the vigorous walking, liefelt the wet cold entering his system. There come times when thehardiest must yield, and be saw the increasing need of refuge.

　　He surveyed the country attentively from the low hill. Allaround was a dull gray horizon from which the icy rain drippedeverywhere. There was no open country. All was forest, and theheavy rolling masses of foliage dripped with icy water, too.

　　Toward the south the land seemed to dip down, and Henry surmisedthat in a valley he would be more likely to find the shelter thathe craved. He needed it badly. As he stood there he shiveredagain and again from head to foot, despite the folds of theblanket. So he started at once, walking fast, and feeling littlefear of a foe. It was not likely that any would be seeking himat such a time. The rain struck him squarely in the face now.Water came from his moccasins every time his foot was pressedagainst the earth, and, no matter how closely he drew the foldsof the blanket, little streams of it, like ice to the touch,flowed down his neck and made their way under his clothing. Hecould not remember a time when he had felt more miserable.

　　He came in about an hour to the dip which, as he had surmised,was the edge of a considerable valley. He ran down the slope,and looked all about for some place of shelter, a thick windbreakin the lee of a hill, or an outcropping of stone, but he sawneither, and, as he continued the search, he came to marshyground. He saw ahead among the weeds and bushes the gleam ofstanding pools, and he was about to turn back, when he noticedthree or four stones, in a row and about a yard from one another,projecting slightly above the black muck. It struck him that thestones would not naturally be in the soft mud, and, his curiosityaroused, he stepped lightly from one stone to another. When hecame to the last stone that he had seen from the hard ground hebeheld several more that had been hidden from him by the bushes.Sure now that he had happened upon something not created bynature alone, he followed these stones, leading like steps intothe very depths of the swamp, which was now deep and dark withooze all about him. He no longer doubted that the stones, theartificial presence of which might have escaped the keenest eyeand most logical mind, were placed there for a purpose, and hewas resolved to know its nature.

　　The stepping stones led him about sixty yards into the swamp, andthe last thirty yards were at an angle from the first thirty.Then he came to a bit of hard ground, a tiny islet in the mire,upon which he could stand without sinking at all. He looked backfrom there, and he could not see his point of departure. Bushes,weeds, and saplings grew out of the swamp to a height of a dozenor fifteen feet, and he was inclosed completely. All thevegetation dripped with cold water, and the place was one of themost dismal that he had ever seen. But he had no thought ofturning back.

　　Henry made a shrewd guess as to whither the path led, but heinferred from the appearance of the stepping stones-chiefly fromthe fact that an odd one here and there had sunk completely outof sight-that they had not been used in a long time, perhaps foryears. He found on the other side of the islet a second line ofstones, and they led across a marsh, that was almost like a blackliquid, to another and larger island.

　　Here the ground was quite firm, supporting a thick growth oflarge trees. It seemed to Henry that this island might beseventy or eighty yards across, and he began at once to exploreit. In the center, surrounded so closely by swamp oaks that theyalmost formed a living wall, he found what he had hoped to find,and his relief was so great that, despite his natural and trainedstoicism, he gave a little cry of pleasure when he saw it.

　　A small lodge, made chiefly of poles and bark after the Iroquoisfashion, stood within the circle of the trees, occupying almostthe whole of the space. It was apparently abandoned long ago,and time and weather had done it much damage. But the barkwalls, although they leaned in places at dangerous angles, stillstood. The bark roof was pierced by holes on one side, but onthe other it was still solid, and shed all the rain from itsslope.

　　The door was open, but a shutter made of heavy pieces of barkcunningly joined together leaned against the wall, and Henry sawthat he could make use of it. He stepped inside. The hut had abark floor which was dry on one side, where the roof was solid,but dripping on the other. Several old articles of Indian uselay about. In one corner was a basket woven of split willow andstill fit for service. There were pieces of thread made ofIndian hemp and the inner bark of the elm. There were also apiece of pottery and a large, beautifully carved wooden spoonsuch as every Iroquois carried. In the corner farthest from thedoor was a rude fireplace made of large flat stones, althoughthere was no opening for the smoke.

　　Henry surveyed it all thoughtfully, and he came to the conclusionthat it was a hut for hunting, built by some warrior of aninquiring mind who had found this secret place, and who hadrecognized its possibilities. Here after an expedition for gamehe could lie hidden from enemies and take his comfort withoutfear. Doubtless he had sat in this hut on rainy days like thepresent one and smoked his pipe in the long, patient calm ofwhich the Indian is capable.

　　Yes, there was the pipe, unnoticed before, trumpet shaped andcarved beautifully, lying on a small bark shelf. Henry picked ittip and examined the bowl. It was as dry as a bone, and not aparticle of tobacco was left there. He believed that it had notbeen used for at least a year. Doubtless the Indian who hadbuilt this hunting lodge had fallen in some foray, and the secretof it had been lost until Henry Ware, seeking through the coldand rain, had stumbled upon it.

　　It was nothing but a dilapidated little lodge of poles and bark,all a-leak, but the materials of a house were there, and Henrywas strong and skillful. He covered the holes in tile roof withfallen pieces of bark, laying heavy pieces of wood across them tohold them in place. Then he lifted the bark shutter intoposition and closed the door. Some drops of rain still came inthrough the roof, but they were not many, and he would not mindthem for the present. Then he opened the door and began hishardest task.

　　He intended to build a fire on the flat stones, and, securingfallen wood, he stripped off the bark and cut splinters from theinside. It was slow work and he was very cold, his wet feetsending chills through him, but be persevered, and the littleheap of dry splinters grew to a respectable size. Then he cutlarger pieces, laying them on one side while he worked with hisflint and steel on the splinters.

　　Flint and steel are not easily handled even by the most skillful,and Henry saw the spark leap up and die out many times before itfinally took hold of the end of the tiniest splinter and grew.He watched it as it ran along the little piece of wood andignited another and then another, the beautiful little red andyellow flames leaping up half a foot in height. Already he feltthe grateful warmth and glow, but he would not let himselfindulge in premature joy. He fed it with larger and largerpieces until the flames, a deeper and more beautiful red andyellow, rose at least two feet, and big coals began to form. Heleft the door open a while in order that the smoke might go out,but when the fire had become mostly coals he closed it again, allexcept a crack of about six inches, which would serve at once tolet any stray smoke out, and to let plenty of fresh air in.

　　Now Henry, all his preparations made, no detail neglected,proceeded to luxuriate. He spread the soaked blanket out on thebark floor, took off the sodden moccasins and placed them at oneangle of the fire, while he sat with his bare feet in front.What a glorious warmth it was! It seemed to enter at his toesand proceed upward through his body, seeking out every littlenook and cranny, to dry and warm it, and fill it full of new glowand life.

　　He sat there a long time, his being radiating with physicalcomfort. The moccasins dried on one side, and he turned theother. Finally they dried all over and all through, and he putthem on again. Then he hung the blanket on the bark wall nearthe fire, and it, too, would be dry in another hour or so. Heforesaw a warm and dry place for the night, and sleep. Now ifone only had food! But he must do without that for the present.

　　He rose and tested all his bones and muscles. No stiffness orsoreness had come from the rain and cold, and he was satisfied.He was fit for any physical emergency. He looked out through thecrevice. Night was coming, and on the little island in the swampit looked inexpressibly black and gloomy. His stomachcomplained, but he shrugged his shoulders, acknowledgingprimitive necessity, and resumed his seat by the fire. There hesat until the blanket had dried, and deep night had fully come.

　　In the last hour or two Henry did not move. He remained beforethe fire, crouched slightly forward, while the generous heat fedthe flame of life in him. A glowing bar, penetrating the creviceat the door, fell on the earth outside, but it did not passbeyond the close group of circling trees. The rain still fellwith uncommon steadiness and persistence, but at times hail wasmingled with it. Henry could not remember in his experience amore desolate night. It seemed that the whole world dwelt inperpetual darkness, and that he was the only living being on it.Yet within the four or five feet square of the hut it was warmand bright, and he was not unhappy.

　　He would forget the pangs of hunger, and, wrapping himself in thedry blanket, he lay down before the bed of coals, having firstraked ashes over them, and he slept one of the soundest sleeps ofhis life. All night long, the dull cold rain fell, and with it,at intervals, came gusts of hail that rattled like bird shot onthe bark walls of the hut. Some of the white pellets blew in atthe door, and lay for a moment or two on the floor, then meltedin the glow of the fire, and were gone.

　　But neither wind, rain nor hail awoke Henry. He was as safe, forthe time, in the hut on the islet, as if he were in the fort atPittsburgh or behind the palisades at Wareville. Dawn came, thesky still heavy and dark with clouds, and the rain still falling.

　　Henry, after his first sense of refreshment and pleasure, becameconscious of a fierce hunger that no amount of the will could nowkeep quiet. His was a powerful system, needing much nourishment,and he must eat. That hunger became so great that it was acutephysical pain. He was assailed by it at all points, and it couldbe repelled by only one thing, food. He must go forth, takingall risks, and seek it.

　　He put on fresh wood, covering it with ashes in order that itmight not blaze too high, and left the islet. The steppingstones were slippery with water, and his moccasins soon becamesoaked again, but he forgot the cold and wet in that ferocioushunger, the attacks of which became more violent every minute.He was hopeful that he might see a deer, or even a squirrel, butthe animals themselves were likely to keep under cover in such arain. He expected a hard hunt, and it would be attended also bymuch danger - these woods must be full of Indians - but bethought little of the risk. His hunger was taking completepossession of his mind. He was realizing now that one might wanta thing so much that it would drive away all other thoughts.

　　Rifle in hand, ready for any quick shot, he searched hour afterhour through the woods and thickets. He was wet, bedraggled, andas fierce as a famishing panther, but neither skill nor instinctguided him to anything. The rabbit hid in his burrow, thesquirrel remained in his hollow tree, and the deer did not leavehis covert.

　　Henry could not well calculate the passage of time, it seemed sofearfully long, and there was no one to tell him, but he judgedthat it must be about noon, and his temper was becoming that ofthe famished panther to which he likened himself. He paused andlooked around the circle of the dripping woods. He had retainedhis idea of direction and he knew that he could go straight backto the hut in the swamp. But he had no idea of returning now. Apower that neither he nor anyone else could resist was pushinghim on his search.

　　Searching the gloomy horizon again, he saw against the dark sky athin and darker line that he knew to be smoke. He inferred,also, with certainty, that it came from an Indian camp, and,without hesitation, turned his course toward it. Indian campthough it might be, and containing the deadliest of foes, he wasglad to know something lived beside himself in this wilderness.

　　He approached with great caution, and found his surmise to becorrect. Lying full length in a wet thicket he saw a party ofabout twenty warriors-Mohawks he took them to be-in an oakopening. They had erected bark shelters, they had good fires,and they were cooking. He saw them roasting the strips over thecoals-bear meat, venison, squirrel, rabbit, bird-and the odor, sopleasant at other times, assailed his nostrils. But it was nowonly a taunt and a torment. It aroused every possible pang ofhunger, and every one of them stabbed like a knife.

　　The warriors, so secure in their forest isolation, kept nosentinels, and they were enjoying themselves like men who hadeverything they wanted. Henry could hear them laughing andtalking, and he watched them as they ate strip after strip of thedelicate, tender meat with the wonderful appetite that the Indianhas after long fasting. A fierce, unreasoning anger and jealousylaid hold of him. He was starving, and they rejoiced in plentyonly fifty yards away. He began to form plans for a piraticalincursion upon them. Half the body of a deer lay near the edgeof the opening, he would rush upon it, seize it, and dart away.It might be possible to escape with such spoil.

　　Then he recalled his prudence. Such a thing was impossible. Thewhole band of warriors would be upon him in an instant. The bestthing that he could do was to shut out the sight of so muchluxury in which he could not share, and he crept away among thebushes wondering what he could do to drive away those terriblepains. His vigorous system was crying louder than ever for thefood that would sustain it. His eyes were burning a little toobrightly, and his face was touched with fever.

　　Henry stopped once to catch a last glimpse of the fires and thefeasting Indians under the bark shelters. He saw a warrior raisea bone, grasping it in both hands, and bite deep into the tenderflesh that clothed it. The sight inflamed him into an angeralmost uncontrollable. He clenched his fist and shook it at thewarrior, who little suspected the proximity of a hatred sointense. Then he bent his head down and rushed away among thewet bushes which in rebuke at his lack of caution raked himacross the face.

　　Henry walked despondently back toward the islet in the swamp.The aspect of air and sky had not changed. The heavens stilldripped icy water, and there was no ray of cheerfulness anywhere.The game remained well hidden.

　　It was a long journey back, and as he felt that he was growingweak he made no haste. He came to dense clumps of bushes, andplowing his way through them, he saw a dark opening under sometrees thrown down by an old hurricane. Having some vague ideathat it might be the lair of a wild animal, he thrust the muzzleof his rifle into the darkness. It touched a soft substance.There was a growl, and a black form shot out almost into hisface. Henry sprang aside, and in an instant all his powers andfaculties returned. He had stirred up a black bear, and beforethe animal, frightened as much as he was enraged, could run farthe boy, careless how many Indians might hear, threw up his rifleand fired.

　　His aim was good. The bear, shot through the head, fell, and wasdead. Henry, transformed, ran up to him. Bear life had beengiven up to sustain man's. Here was food for many days, and herejoiced with a great joy. He did not now envy those warriorsback there.

　　The bear, although small, was very fat. Evidently he had fedwell on acorns and wild honey, and he would yield up steakswhich, to one with Henry's appetite, would be beyond compare. Hecalculated that it was more than a mile to the swamp, and, aftera few preliminaries, he flung the body of the bear over hisshoulder. Through some power of the mind over the body his fullstrength had returned to him miraculously, and when he reachedthe stepping stones he crossed from one to another lightly andfirmly, despite the weight that he carried.

　　He came to the little bark hut which he now considered his own.The night had fallen again, but some coals still glowed under theashes, and there was plenty of dry wood. He did everythingdecently and in order. He took the pelt from the bear, carvedthe body properly, and then, just as the Indians had done, hebroiled strips over the coals. He ate them one after another,slowly, and tasting all the savor, and, intense as was the merephysical pleasure, it was mingled with a deep thankfulness. Notonly was the life nourished anew in him, but he would now regainthe strength to seek his comrades.

　　When he had eaten enough he fastened the body of the bear, now inseveral portions, on hooks high upon the walls, hooks whichevidently had been placed there by the former owner of the hutfor this very purpose. Then, sure that the savor of the foodwould draw other wild animals, he brought one of the steppingstones and placed it on the inside of the door. The door couldnot be pushed aside without arousing him, and, secure in theknowledge, he went to sleep before the coals.