Chapter III. Lost in the Wilderness

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　The method by which Mr. and Mrs. Ware undertook to teach Henry asense of responsibility was an increase of work. Founding a newstate was no light matter, and he must do his share. Since heloved to fish, it became his duty to supply the table with fish,and that, too, at regular hours, and he also began to think oftraps and snares, which he would set in the autumn for game. Itwas always wise for the pioneer to save his powder and lead, themost valuable of his possessions and the hardest to obtain. Anyfood that could be procured without its use was a welcomeaddition.

　　But fishing remained his easiest task, and he did it all with apole that he cut with his clasp knife, a string and a littlepiece of bent and stiffened wire. He caught perch, bass,suckers, trout, sunfish, catfish, and other kinds, the names ofwhich he did not know. Sometimes when his hook and line hadbrought him all that was needed, and the day was hot, he wouldtake off his clothing and plunge into the deep, cool pools.Often his friend, Paul Cotter, was with him. Paul was a yearyounger than Henry, and not so big. Hence the larger boy felthimself, in a certain sense, Paul's teacher and protector, whichgave him a comfortable feeling, and a desire to help his comradeas much as he could.

　　He taught the smaller lad new tricks in swimming, and scarcely aday passed when two sunburned, barefooted boys did not go to theriver, quickly throw off their clothing, and jump into the clearwater. There they swam and floated for a long time, dived, andducked each other, and then lay on the grass in the sun untilthey dried.

　　"Paul," said Henry once, as they were stretched thus on the bank,"wouldn't you like to have nothing to do, but wander through thewoods just as you pleased, sleep wherever you wished, and killgame when you grew hungry, just like the Indians?"

　　Henry's eyes were on the black line of the forest, and the bluehaze of the sky beyond. His spirit was away in the depths of theunknown.

　　"I don't know," replied Paul. "I guess a white boy has to becomea white man, after a while, and they say that the differencebetween a white man and the Indian is that the white man has towork."

　　"But the Indians get along without it," said Henry.

　　"No they don't," replied Paul. "We win all the country becausewe've learned how to do things while we are working."

　　Yet Henry was unconvinced, and his thoughts wandered far into theblack forest and the blue haze.

　　The cattle pastured near the deepest of the swimming holes, andit often fell to the lot of the boys to bring them into thepalisade at sunset. This was a duty of no little importance,because if any of the cattle wandered away into the forest andwere lost, they could not be replaced. It was now the latterhalf of summer, and the grass and foliage were fast turning brownin the heat. Late on the afternoon of one of the very hottestdays Henry and Paul went to the deepest swimming hole. There hadnot been a breath of air stirring since morning; not a blade ofgrass, not a leaf quivered. The skies burned like a sheet ofcopper.

　　The boys panted, and their clothing, wet with perspiration, clungto them. The earth was hot under their feet. Quickly they threwoff their garments and sprang into the water. How cool andgrateful it felt. There they lingered long, and did not noticethe sudden obscurity of the sun and darkening of the southwest.A slight wind sprang up presently, and the dry leaves and grassbegan to rustle. There was thunder in the distance and a strokeof lightning. The boys were aroused, and scrambling out of thewater put on their clothing.

　　"A storm's coming," said Henry, who was weatherwise, "and we mustget the cattle in."

　　These sons of the forest did not fear rain, but they hurried ontheir clothing, and they noticed, too, how rapidly the storm wasgathering. The heat had been great for days, and the earth wasparched and thirsty. The men had talked in the evening of rain,and said how welcome it would be, and now the boys shared thegeneral feeling. The drought would be ended. The thirsty earthwould drink deep and grow green again.

　　The rolling clouds, drawn like a great curtain over thesouthwest, advanced and covered all the heavens. The flashes oflightning followed each other so fast that, at times, they seemedcontinuous; the forest groaned as it bent before the wind. Thenthe great drops fell, and soon they were beating the earth likevolleys of pistol bullets. Fragments of boughs, stripped off bythe wind, swept by. Never had the boys in their Eastern homeknown such thunder and lightning. The roar of one was always intheir ears, and the flash of the other always in their eyes.

　　The frightened cattle were gathered into a group, pressing closetogether for company and protection. The boys hurried themtoward the stockade, but one cow, driven by terror, broke fromthe rest and ran toward the woods. Agile Henry, not willing tolose a single straggler, pursued the fugitive, and Paul, wishingto be as zealous, followed. The rest of the cattle, being sonear and obeying the force of habit, went on into the stockade.It was the wildest cow of the herd that made a plunge for thewoods, and Henry, knowing her nature, expected trouble. So heran as fast as he could, and he was not aware until they were inthe forest that Paul was close behind him. Then he shouted:

　　"Go back, Paul! I'll bring her in."

　　But Paul would not turn. There was fire in his blood. Heconsidered it as much his duty to help as it was Henry's.Moreover, he would not desert his comrade.

　　The fugitive, driven by the storm acting upon its wild nature,continued at great speed, and the panting boys were not able toovertake her. So on the trio went, plunging through the woods,and saving themselves from falls, or collisions with trees, onlyby the light from the flashes of lightning. Many boys, even onthe border, would have turned back, but there was somethingtenacious in Henry's nature; he had undertaken to do a thing, andhe did not wish to give it up. Besides that cow was toovaluable. And Paul would not leave his comrade.

　　Away the cow went, and behind her ran her pursuers. The raincame rushing and roaring through the woods, falling now insheets, while overhead the lightning still burned, and thethunder still crashed, though with less frequency. Both the boyswere drenched, but they did not mind it; they did not even knowit at the time. The lightning died presently, the thunder ceasedto rumble, and then the darkness fell like a great blanket overthe whole forest. The chase was blotted out from them, and thetwo boys, stopping, grasped each other's hands for the sake ofcompany. They could not see twenty feet before them, but therain still poured.

　　"We'll have to give her up," said Henry reluctantly. "Wecouldn't follow a whole herd of buffaloes in all this blacknight."

　　"Maybe we can find her to-morrow," said Paul.

　　"Maybe so,". replied Henry. "We've got to wait anyhow. Let's gohome."

　　They started back for Wareville, keeping close together, lestthey lose each other in the darkness, and they realized suddenlythat they were uncomfortable. The rain was coming in such sheetsdirectly in their faces that it half blinded them, now and thentheir feet sank deep in mire and their drenched bodies began togrow cold. The little log houses in which they lived now seemedto them palaces, fit for a king, and they hastened theirfootsteps, often tripping on vines or running into bushes. ButHenry was trying to see through the dark woods.

　　"We ought to be near the clearing," he said.

　　They stopped and looked all about, seeking, to see a light. Theyknew that one would be shining from the tower of the blockhouseas a guide to them. But they saw none. They had misjudged thedistance, so they thought, and they pushed on a half hour longer,but there was still no light, nor did they come to a clearing.Then they paused. Dark as it was each saw a look of dismay onthe face of the other.

　　"We've come the wrong way!" exclaimed Paul.

　　"Maybe we have," reluctantly admitted Henry.

　　But their dismay lasted only a little while. They were strongboys, used to the wilderness, and they did not fear even darknessand wandering through the woods. Moreover, they were sure thatthey should find Wareville long before midnight.

　　They changed their course and continued the search. The rainceased by and by, the clouds left the heavens, and the moon cameout, but they saw nothing familiar about them. The great woodswere dripping with water, and it was the only sound they heard,besides that made by themselves. They stopped again, worn outand disconsolate at last. All their walking only served toconfuse them the more. Neither now had any idea of the directionin which Wareville lay, and to be lost in the wilderness was amost desperate matter. They might travel a thousand miles,should strength last them for so great a journey, and never see asingle human being. They leaned against the rough bark of agreat oak tree, and stared blankly at each other.

　　"What are we to do?" asked Paul.

　　"I can't say," replied Henry.

　　The two boys still looked blank, but at last they laughed-andeach laughed at the other's grewsome face. Then they began oncemore to cast about them. The cold had passed and warm winds wereblowing up from the south. The forest was drying, and Henry andPaul, taking off their coats, wrung the water from them. Theywere strong lads, inured to many hardships of the border and theforest, and they did not fear ill results from a mere wetting.Nevertheless, they wished to be comfortable, and under theinfluence of the warm wind they soon found themselves dry again.But they were so intensely sleepy that they could scarcely keeptheir eyes open, and now the wilderness training of both cameinto use.

　　It was a hilly country, with many outcroppings of stone andcavelike openings in the sides of the steep but low hills, andsuch a place as this the boys now sought. But it was a long huntand they grew more tired and sleepy at every step. They werehungry, too, but if they might only sleep they could forget that.They heard again the hooting of owls, and the wind, moaning amongthe leaves, made strange noises. Once there was a crash in athicket beside them, and they jumped in momentary alarm, but itwas only a startled deer, far more scared than they, runningthrough the bushes, and Henry was ashamed of his nervous impulse.They found at last their resting place, a sheltered ledge of drystone in the hollow of a hill. The stone arched above them, andit was dark in the recess, but the boys were too tired now toworry about shadows. They crept into the hollow, and, scrapingup fallen leaves to soften the hard stone, lay down. Both wereoff to slumberland in less than five minutes.

　　The hollow faced the East, and the bright sun, shining into theireyes, awakened them at last. Henry sprang up, amazed. The skieswere a silky blue, with little white clouds sailing here andthere. The forest, new-washed by the rain, smelt clean andsweet. The south wind was still blowing. The world was brightand beautiful, but he was conscious of an acute pain at thecenter of his being. That is, he was increasingly hungry. Paulshowed equal surprise, and was a prey to the same annoyingsensation in an important region. He looked up at the sun, andfound that it was almost directly overhead, indicating noon.

　　All the country about them was strange, an unbroken expanse ofhill and forest, and nowhere a sign of a human being. Theyscrutinized the horizon with the keen eyes of boyhood, but theysaw no line of smoke, rising from the chimneys of Wareville.Whether the villages lay north or south or east or west of themthey did not know, and the wind that sighed so gently through theforest never told. They were alone in the wilderness and theyknew, moreover, that the wilderness was very vast and they werevery small. But Henry and Paul did not despair; in fact no suchthought entered Henry's mind. Instead he began to find a certainjoy in the situation; it appealed to his courage. They resolvedto find something to eat, and they used first a temporary curefor the pangs of hunger. Each had a strong clasp knife and theycut strips of the soft inner bark of the slippery-elm tree, whichthey chewed, drawing from it a little strength and sustenance.They found an hour or two later some nearly ripe wild plums,which they ate in small quantities, and, later on, ripeblackberries very juicy and sweet. Paul wanted to be voracious,but Henry restrained him, knowing well that if he indulgedliberally he might suffer worse pangs than those of hunger.Slender as was this diet the boys felt much strengthened, andtheir spirits rose in a wonderful manner.

　　"We're bound to be found sooner or later," said Henry, "and it'sstrange if we can't live in the woods until then."

　　"If we only had our guns and ammunition," said Paul, "we couldget all the meat we wanted, and live as well as if we were athome."

　　This was true, because in the untrodden forest the game wasplentiful all about them, but guns and ammunition they did nothave, and it was vain to wish for them. They must obtain moresolid food than wild plums and blackberries, if they would retaintheir strength, and both boys knew it. Yet they saw no way andthey continued wandering until they came to a creek. They sat awhile on its banks and looked down at the fish with which it wasswarming, and which they could see distinctly in its clearwaters.

　　"Oh, if we only had one of those fine fellows," said Paul.

　　"Then why not have him?" exclaimed Henry, a sudden flashappearing in his eye.

　　"Yes, why not?" replied Paul with sarcasm. "I suppose that allwe have to do is to whistle and the finest of 'em will come rightout here on the bank, and ask us to cook and eat 'em."

　　"We haven't any hooks and lines now but we might make 'em," saidHenry.

　　"Make 'em I" said Paul, and he looked in amazement at hiscomrade.

　　"Out of our clothes," replied Henry.

　　Then he proceeded to show what he meant and Paul, too, when hesaw him begin, was quickly taken with the idea. They drew manylong strands from the fiber of their clothing-cloth in those dayswas often made as strong as leather-and twisted and knotted themtogether until they had a line fifteen feet long. It took themat least two hours to complete this task, and then theycontemplated their work with pride. But the look of joy onPaul's face did not last long.

　　"How on earth are we to get a hook, Henry?" he asked.

　　"I'll furnish that," replied Henry, and he took the small steelbuckle with which his trousers were fastened together at theback. Breaking this apart he bent the slenderest portion of itinto the shape of a hook, and fastened it to the end of his line.

　　"If we get a fish on this he may slip off or he may not, but wemust try," he said.

　　The fishing rod and the bait were easy matters. A slender stemof dogwood, cut with a clasp knife, served for the first, and, toget the latter, they had nothing to do but turn up a flat stone,and draw angle worms from the moist earth beneath.

　　The hook was baited and with a triumphant flourish Henry swung ittoward the stream.

　　"Now," he said, "for the biggest fish that ever swam in thiscreek."

　　The boys might have caught nothing with such a rude outfit, butdoubtless that stream was never fished in before, and itsinhabitants, besides being full of a natural curiosity, did notdream of any danger coming from the outer air. Therefore theybit at the curious-looking metallic thing with the tempting foodupon it which was suddenly dropped from somewhere.

　　But the first fish slipped off as Henry had feared, and thenthere was nothing to do but try again. It was not until thesixth or seventh bite that he succeeded in landing a fine perchupon the bank, and then Paul uttered a cry of triumph, but Henry,as became his superior dignity at that moment, took his victorymodestly. It was in reality something to rejoice over, as thesetwo boys were perhaps in a more dangerous situation than they,with all their knowledge of the border, understood. Thewilderness was full of animal life, but it was fleeter than man,and, without weapons they were helpless.

　　"And now to cook him," said Henry. So speaking, he took from hispocket the flint and steel that he had learned from the menalways to carry, while Paul began to gather fallen brushwood.To light the fire Henry expected to be the easiest of theirtasks, but it proved to be one of the most difficult. He struckforth the elusive sparks again and again, but they went outbefore setting fire to the wood. He worked until his fingersached and then Paul relieved him. It fell to the younger boy'slot to succeed. A bright spark flying forth rested a momentamong the lightest and driest of the twigs, igniting them. Atiny point of flame appeared, then grew and leaped up. In a fewmoments the great pile of brushwood was in a roaring blaze, andthen the boys cooked their fish over the coals. They ate it allwith supreme content, and they believed they could feel the bloodflowing in a new current through their veins and their strengthgrowing, too.

　　But they knew that they would have to prepare for the future anddraw upon all their resources of mind and body. Their hook andline was but a slender appliance and they might not have suchluck with it again. Paul suggested that they make a fish trap,of sticks tied together with strips cut from their clothing, andput it in the creek, and Henry thought it was a good idea, too.So they agreed to try it on the morrow, if they should not befound meanwhile, and then they debated the subject of snares.The undergrowth was swarming with rabbits, and they would makemost toothsome food. Rabbits they must have, and again Henry ledthe way. He selected a small clear spot near the thickundergrowth where a rabbit would naturally love to make his nestand around a circle about six inches in diameter he drove anumber of smooth pegs. Then he tied a strong cord made of stripsof their clothing to one end of a stout bush, which he bent overuntil it curved in a semicircle. The other end of the cord wasdrawn in a sliding loop around the pegs, and was attached to alittle wooden trigger, set in the center of the enclosure.The slightest pressure upon this trigger would upset it, causethe noose to slip off the pegs and close with a jerk around theneck of anything that might have its head thrust into theenclosure. The bush, too, would fly back into place and therewould be the intruder, really hanged by himself. It was thecommon form of snare, devised for small game by the boys of earlyKentucky, and still used by them.

　　Henry and Paul made four of these ingenious little contrivances,and baited them with bruised pieces of the small plantain leavesthat the rabbits love. Then they contemplated their work againwith satisfaction. But Paul suddenly began to look rueful.

　　"If we have to pay out part of our clothes every time we get adinner we soon won't have any left," he said.

　　Henry only laughed.

　　It was now near sunset, and, as they had worked hard they wouldhave been thankful for supper, but there was none to be thankfulfor, and they were too tired to fish again. So they concluded togo to sleep, which their hard work made very easy, and dream ofabundant harvests on the morrow.

　　They gathered great armfuls of the fallen brushwood, litteringthe forest, and built a heap as high as their heads, which blazedand roared in a splendid manner, sending up, too, a column ofsmoke that rose far above the trees and trailed off in the bluesky.

　　It was a most cheerful bonfire, and it was a happy thought forthe boys to build it, even aside from its uses as a signal, asthe coming of night in the wilderness is always most lonesome andweird.

　　They lay down near each other on the soft turf, and Henry watchedthe red sun sink behind the black forest in the west. Thestrange, sympathetic feeling for the wilderness again came intohis mind. He thought once more of the mysterious regions thatlay beyond the line where the black and red met. He could livein the woods, he was living now without arms, even, and if heonly had his rifle and ammunition he could live in luxury. Andthen the wonderful freedom! That old thought came to him withrenewed force. To roam as he pleased, to stop when he pleasedand to sleep where he pleased! He would make a canoe, and floatdown the great rivers to their mouths. Then he would wander farout on the vast plains, which they say lay beyond the thousandmiles of forest, and see the buffalo in millions go thunderingby. That would be a life without care.

　　He fell asleep presently, but he was awakened after a while by along-drawn plaintive shriek answered by a similar cry. Once hewould have been alarmed by the sound, but now he knew it waspanther talking to panther. He and Paul were unarmed, but theyhad something as effective as guns against panthers and that wasthe great bonfire which still roared and blazed near them. Hewas glad now for a new reason that they had built it high,because the panther's cry was so uncanny and sent such a chilldown one's back. He looked at Paul, but his comrade still sleptsoundly, a peaceful smile showing on his face. He remembered thewords of Ross that no wild animal would trouble man if man didnot trouble him, and, rolling a little nearer to Paul, he shuthis eyes and sought sleep.

　　But sleep would not come, and presently he heard the cry of thepanther again but much nearer. He was lying with his ear to theground. Now the earth is a conductor of sound and Henry was surethat he heard a soft tread. He rose upon his elbow and gazedinto the darkness. There he beheld at last a dim form movingwith sinuous motion, and slowly it took the shape of a greatcatlike animal. Then he saw just behind it another as large, andhe knew that they were the two panthers whose cries he had heard.Henry was not frightened, although there was something weird anduncanny in the spectacle of these two powerful beasts of prey,stealing about the fire, before which two unarmed boys reposed.He knew, however, that they were drawn not by the desire toattack, but by a kind of terrified curiosity. The fire was tothem the magnet that the snake is to the fascinated bird. Helonged then for his gun, the faithful little rifle that wasreposing on the hooks over his bed in his father's house.

　　"I'd make you cry for something," he said to himself, looking atthe largest of the panthers.

　　The animals lingered, glaring at the boys and the fire with greatred eyes, and presently Henry, doing as he had done on a formeroccasion, picked up a blazing torch and, shouting, rushed atthem..

　　The panthers sprang headlong through the undergrowth, in theireagerness to get away from the terrible flaming vision that wasdarting down upon them. Their flight was so quick that theydisappeared in an instant and Henry knew they would not venturenear the site of the fire again in a long time. He turned backand found Paul surprised and alarmed standing erect and rubbinghis eyes.

　　"Why-wh-what's the matter?" cried Paul.

　　"Oh, it's nothing," replied Henry.

　　Then he told about the panthers. Paul did not know as much asHenry concerning panthers and the affair got on his nerves. Thelonely and vast grandeur of the wilderness did not have theattraction for him that it had for his comrade, and he wishedagain for the strong log walls and comfortable roofs ofWareville. But Henry reassured him. The testimony of thehunters about the timidity of wild beasts so was unanimous and heneed have no fears. So Paul went to sleep again, but Henrylingered as before.

　　He threw fresh fuel oil the fire. Then he lay down again andgradually weary nature became the master of him. The woods grewdim, and faded away, the fire vanished and he was in slumberland.When Henry awoke it was because some one was tugging at hisshoulder. He knew now that the Indian warriors had come acrossthe Ohio, and had seized him, and he sprang up ready to make afierce resistance.

　　"Don't fight, Henry! It's me-Paul!" cried a boyish voice, andHenry letting his muscles relax rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.It was Paul sure enough standing beside him, and the sun againwas high up in the heavens. The fire was still burning, thoughit had died down somewhat.

　　"Oh, my breakfast!" cried Henry as he felt a sudden pang.

　　"Come, let's see if we're going to have any," said Paul, and offthey went to their snares. The first had not been touched, norhad the second. The bait was gone from the third, and the loopsprung, but there was nothing in it. The hearts of the boys sankand they thought again of wild plums and blackberries which werebut a light diet. But when they came to the fourth snare theirtriumph was complete. A fat rabbit, caught in the loop, washanging by the neck, beside the bush.

　　"It's lucky the forest is so full of game that some of it fallsinto our trap," said Henry.

　　They cooked the rabbit, and again they were so hungry that theyate it all. Then they improvised new fishing tackle and bothboys began to fish. They knew that they must devote their wholetime to this problem of food, and they decided, for the present,not to leave the creek. They were afraid to renew the search forWareville, lest they wander deeper into the wilderness, andmoreover lose the way to the creek which seemed to be the surestsource of food. So they would stay a while where they were, andkeep their fire burning high as a signal to searchers.

　　Either the fish had learned that the curiously shaped thing withthe tempting bait upon it was dangerous, or they had gone tovisit friends in distant parts of the creek, for, at least twohours passed, without either boy getting a bite. When the fishdid lay hold it was usually to slip again from the rude hook, andit was at least another hour before they caught a fish. It wasPaul who achieved the feat, and it repaid him for being asleepwhen the panthers came, a matter that had lain upon his mindsomewhat.

　　They persisted in this work until Henry also made a catch andthen they gathered more plums and berries. They dug up, too, theroot of the Indian turnip, an herb that burnt the mouth likefire, but which Henry said they could use, after soaking it along time in water. Then they discussed the matter of the fishtrap which they thought they could make in a day's work. Thiswould relieve them of much toil, but they deferred its beginninguntil the morrow, and used the rest of the day in making two moresnares for rabbits.

　　Paul now suggested that they accumulate as much food as possible,cook it and putting it on their backs follow the creek to itsmouth. He had no doubt that it emptied into the river thatflowed by Wareville and then by following the stream, if hissurmise was right, they could reach home again. It was aplausible theory and Henry agreed with him. Meanwhile they builttheir fire high again and lay down for another night's rest inthe woods. The next day they devoted to the fish trap which wassuccessfully completed, and put in the river, and then they tooktheir places on the turf for the third night beside the campfire.

　　The day, like its predecessor, had been close and hot. Alltraces of the great rain were gone. Forest and earth were againas dry as tinder. They refreshed themselves with a swim in thecreek just before lying down to sleep, but they were soon pantingwith the heat. It seemed to hang in heavy clouds, and the forestshut out any fresh air that might be moving high up.

　　Despite the great heat the boys had built the fire as high asusual, because they knew that the search for them would nevercease so long as there was a hope of success, and they thoughtthat the signal should not be lacking. But now they moved awayfrom it and into the shadow of the woods.

　　"If only the wind would blow I," said Henry.

　　"And I'd be willing to stand a rain like the one in which we gotlost," said Paul.

　　But neither rain nor wind came, and after a while they fellasleep. Henry was awakened at an unknown hour of the night by aroaring in his ears, and at first he believed that Paul was aboutto have his storm. Then he was dazzled by a great rush of lightin his eyes, and he sprang to his feet in sudden alarm.

　　"Up, Paul!" he cried, grasping his comrade by the shoulder. "Thewoods are on fire!"

　　Paul was on his feet in an instant, and the two were just intime. Sparks flew in their faces and the flames twisting intopyramids and columns leaped from tree to tree with a sound likethunder as, they came. Boughs, burnt through, fell to the groundwith a crash. The sparks rose in millions.

　　The boys had slept in their clothes or rather what was left ofthem, and, grasping each other's hands, they ran at full speedtoward the creek, with the great fire roaring and rushing afterthem. Henry looked back once but the sight terrified him and thesparks scorched his face. He knew that the conflagration hadbeen set by their own bonfire, fanned by a rising wind as theyslept, but it was no time to lament. The rush and sweep of theflames, feeding upon the dry forest and gathering strength asthey came, was terrific. It was indeed like the thunder of astorm in the ears of the frightened boys, and they fairly skimmedover the ground in the effort to escape the red pursuer. Theycould feel its hot breath on their necks, while the smoke and thesparks flew over their heads. They dashed into the creek, andeach dived down under the water which felt so cool andrefreshing.

　　"Let's stay here," said Paul, who enjoyed the present.

　　"We can't think of such a thing," replied Henry. "This creekwon't stop that fire half a minute!

　　A fire in a sun-dried Western forest is a terrible thing. Itrushes on at a gallop, roaring and crackling like thebattle-front of an army, and destroying everything that liesbefore it. It leaves but blackened stumps and charred logsbehind, and it stops only when there is no longer food for it todevour.

　　The boys sprang out of the creek and ran up the hill. Henrypaused a moment at its crest, and looked back again. The aspectof the fire was more frightful than ever. The flames leapedhigher than the tops of the tallest trees, and thrust out longred twining arms, like coiling serpents. Beneath was the solidred bank of the conflagration, preceded by showers of ashes andsmoke and sparks. The roar increased and was like that of manygreat guns in battle.

　　"Paul!" exclaimed Henry seizing his comrade's hand again. "We'vegot to run, as we've never run before! It's for our lives now!"

　　It was in good truth for their lives, and bending low theirheads, the two boys, hand in hand, raced through the forest, withthe ruthless pursuer thundering after them. Henry as he ran,glanced back once more and saw that the fire was gaining uponthem. The serpents of flame were coming nearer and nearer andthe sparks flew over their heads in greater showers. Paul waspanting, and being the younger and smaller of the two hisstrength was now failing. Henry felt his comrade dragging uponhis hand. If he freed himself from Paul's grasp he could runfaster, but he remembered his silent resolve to take Paul back tohis people. Even were it not for those others at Wareville hecould never desert his friend at such a moment. So he pulled onPaul's hand to hasten his speed, and together the boys went on.

　　The two noticed presently that they were not alone in theirflight, a circumstance that had escaped them in the first hurryand confusion. Deer and rabbits, too, flew before the hurricaneof fire. The deer were in a panic of terror, and a great stagran for a few moments beside the boys, not noticing them, or, inhis fear of greater evil, having no fear of human beings who wereinvolved in the same danger. Three or four buffaloes, too,presently joined the frightened herd of game, one, a great bullrunning with head down and blowing steam from his nostrils.

　　Paul suddenly sank to his knees and gasped:

　　"I can't go on! Let me stay here and you save yourself, Henry!"

　　Henry looked back at the great fiery wall that swept over theground, roaring like a storm. It was very near now and the smokealmost blinded him. A boy with a spirit less stanch than hismight well have fled in a panic, leaving his companion to hisdeath. But the nearer the danger came the more resolute he grew.He saw, too, that he must bring Paul into renewed action.

　　"Get up!" he exclaimed, and he jerked the fainting boy to hisfeet. Then, snatching a stick, he struck. Paul several smartblows on his back. Paul cried out with the sudden pain and,stimulated by it into physical action, began to run with renewedspeed.

　　"That's right, Paul!" cried Henry, dropping his stick and seizinghis comrade again by the hand. "One more big try and we'll getaway! Just over this hill here it's open ground, and the firewill have to stop!

　　It was a guess, only made to encourage Paul, and Henry had smallhope that it would come true, but when they reached the brow ofthe hill both uttered a shout of delight. There was no forestfor perhaps a quarter of a mile beyond, and down the center ofthe open glittered a silver streak that meant running water.Henry was so joyous that he cried out again.

　　"See, Paul! See!" he exclaimed. "Here's safety! Now we'll run!"

　　How they did run! The sight gave them new strength. They shotout of that terrible forest and across the short dry grass, burntbrown by late summer days, running for life toward the flowingwater.

　　They did not stop to notice the size of the stream, but plungedat once into its current. Henry sank with a mighty splash, andwent down, down, it seemed to him, a mile. Then his feet toucheda hard, rocky bottom, and he shot back to the surface,spluttering and blowing the water out of eyes, mouth andnostrils. A head was bobbing beside him. He seized hair, pulledit up, and disclosed the features of his comrade.

　　Paul, too, began to splutter and at the same time to try to swim.Splash! A heavy body struck the water beside them with a thud toogreat for that of a man. It was the stag leaping also for safetyand he began to swim about, looking at the boys with greatpathetic eyes, as if he would ask them what he ought to do nextfor his life. Apparently his fear of mankind had passed for themoment. They were bound together by the community of danger.

　　Splash! Splash! Splash!

　　The water resounded like the beating of a bass drum. Three moredeer, a buffalo, and any number of smaller game sprang into thestream, and remained there swimming or wading.

　　"Here, Paul! Here's a bar that we can stand on," said Henry whohad found a footing. At the same time he grasped Paul by thewrist, and drew him to the bar. There they stood in the water totheir necks, and watched the great fire as it divided at thelittle prairie, and swept around them, passing to left and right.It was a grim sight. All the heavens seemed ablaze, and theclouds of smoke were suffocating. Even there in the river theheat was most oppressive, and at times the faces of the boys werealmost scorched. Then they would thrust their heads under thewater, and keep them there as long as they could hold theirbreath, coming up again greatly refreshed. The wild gameclustered near in common terror.

　　"It's a lucky thing for us the river and prairie are here," saidHenry. "Another half mile and we'd have been ashes."

　　Paul was giving thanks under his breath, and watching the firewith awe-stricken eyes. It swept past them and rushed on, in agreat red cloud, that ate all in its path and gave forth muchnoise.

　　It was now on the far side of the prairie, and soon began to growsmaller in the distance. Yet so great was the wall of fire thatit was long in sight, dying at last in a red band under thehorizon. Even then all the skies were still filled with driftingsmoke and ashes.

　　The boys looked back at the path over which they had come, andalthough the joy of escape was still upon them it was with realgrief that they beheld the stricken forest, lately so grand asight. It was now but a desolate and blackened ruin. Here andthere charred trunks stood like the chimneys of burned houses,and others lay upon the ground like fallen and smoking rafters.Scattered about were great beds of living coals, where the brushhad been thickest, and smoke rose in columns from the burnedgrass and hot earth. It was all like some great temple destroyedby fire; and such it was, the grandest of all temples, thenatural temple of the forest.

　　"We kindled that fire," said Paul.

　　"I guess we did," responded Henry, "but we didn't know our sparkwould grow into so great a blaze."

　　They swam to the bank and walked toward the remains of theforest. But the ground was still hot to their feet, and thesmoke troubled them. Near the edge of the wood they found a deerstill alive and with a broken leg, tripped in its panic-strickenflight or struck by a fallen tree. Henry approached cautiouslyand slew him with his clasp knife. He felt strong pity as thefallen animal looked at him with great mournful eyes, but theywere two hungry boys, and they must have a food supply if theywould live in the woods.

　　They cleaned and dressed the deer and found that the carcass wasas much as they could carry. But with great toil they lifted itover the hot ground, and then across another little prairie,until they came to woods only partially burned. There they hungthe body to the bough of a tree, out of the reach of beasts ofprey.

　　Then they took thought for the future. Barring the deer whichwould last some time they would now have to begin all over again,but they resolved to spend the rest of the present day, thereunder the shade of the trees. They were too much exhausted withexertion and excitement to undertake any new task just yet.

　　Paul was afflicted with a great longing for home that afternoon.The fire and their narrow escape were still on his nerves. Hismuscular fiber was not so enduring as that of Henry, and thewilderness did not make so keen an appeal to him. Theirhardships were beginning to weigh upon him and he thought all thetime of Wareville, and the comfortable little log houses and thecertain and easy supplies of food. Henry knew what was on hiscomrade's mind but he did not upbraid him for weakness of spirit.He, too, had memories of Wareville, and he pitied the grief oftheir people who must now be morning them as lost forever. Buthe had been thinking long and hard and he had a plan. Finally heannounced to Paul that they would build a raft.

　　"I believe this is the same river that runs by Wareville," hesaid. "I never heard Ross or Shif'less Sol or any of the menspeak of another river, near enough for us to have reached it,since we've been wandering around. So it must be the same. Noweither we are above Wareville or we are below it. We've got toguess at that and take the risk of it. We can roll a lot of thelogs and timber into the river, tie 'em together, and float withthe stream until we come to Wareville."

　　"But if we never come to it?" asked Paul.

　　"Then all we have to do is to get off the raft and follow theriver back up the bank. Then we are sure to reach home."

　　This was so plausible that Paul was full of enthusiasm and theydecided that they would set to work on the raft early in themorning.