Abbott Jacob
Forests of Maine
CHAPTER IX.
THE ENCAMPMENT
Our party of travellers remained at the place of their bivouack more than an hour. At the end of that time, having eaten all that they had cooked, they began to think of resuming their journey. Marco was sitting upon the stone, wishing that he had put down one more potato to roast, when suddenly he perceived a large grey squirrel upon a log near him. The squirrel ran along the log, and Marco immediately rose and went in pursuit of him.
The squirrel ascended a tree, running up the stem. Then he glided along one of the branches till he came to the end of it, when he leaped through the air and caught the end of another branch, which was growing from another tree. This branch, which was very slender, bent down half way to the ground under the squirrel's weight. Bunny ran up the branch, however, as easily as if it remained level. Thus he went along from tree to tree, following, generally, the direction of the path by which Marco had descended in coming from the wagon.
At length he emerged from the wood, just at the point where Marco had fastened the horse. But all farther pursuit of him, on the part of Marco, was suddenly arrested by the astounding fact, which here burst suddenly upon Marco, that the horse and wagon were gone. Marco looked all about, this way and that, to assure himself that it was the very same place where he had fastened the horse. There could be no doubt of it. There was the very tree to which he had tied him, and the marks of his feet, near it, upon the ground.
Marco was in consternation. He looked all around, and then ran into the road and looked both ways, but no signs of the horse were to be seen. He then hurried back to the edge of the woods and called out in a loud voice:
"Cousin Forester! Isaiah! cousin Forester! our horse has got away."
Isaiah sprang from the seat and ran, quicker than the squirrel had done, up the path. As he came out to the place where Marco was standing, Marco began to say, "There's where I tied him. I fastened him strong to that tree." But Isaiah paid no attention to what he said, but ran directly to the road. He did not stop to look both ways, but taking the road which led towards his home, he ran along as fast as he could go. Marco followed him as far as into the road, and looked after him as long as he could see him. Isaiah was, however, soon out of sight, and Marco went back to find Forester. Forester was coming up the path very leisurely, bringing the bag, with the remaining provisions in it, in one hand, and the hatchet in the other.
"Well, cousin Forester," said Marco, "we are in a fine condition. Our horse and wagon have run away, and now Isaiah has run away too."
"I think Isaiah will come back pretty soon," said Forester. "As to the horse and wagon, that is more doubtful."
"And then what shall we do?" asked Marco.
"I don't know," said Forester. "We are ten miles from any house in one direction, and fifteen in another. But I'm not commander. It's nothing to me. I've only to obey orders. I'll do whatever you say."
"Yes, but I should think you might advise me," said Marco. "Generals get advice from their captains and colonels in battle."
"Oh yes," said Forester; "I'll advise you. I think we had better wait first till Isaiah comes back. Perhaps he'll find the horse."
They waited about fifteen minutes, and then Isaiah came back. But he had no horse. He said he went on until he reached the top of a hill where he could see the road for a long distance before him, but that the horse was not to be seen.
"He'll get home before I should overtake him," said Isaiah.
"Yes," said Marco, "unless he stopped where the tree fell across the road."
"True," said Isaiah; "perhaps he has stopped there."
"Or would not he find his way round the tree through the woods?" asked Marco.
"I don't know," said Isaiah; "perhaps he would."
"Is he a pretty sensible horse?" asked Marco.
"Yes," replied Isaiah; "we have to keep the granary door locked, or else he will open the latch with his teeth, and go in and get the corn."
"Then," said Marco, "I've no doubt that he will find his way around the tree and go home; and so we've got nothing to do but to walk back fifteen miles."
"Or forward ten," said Forester.
"Yes," said Marco; "we can go on, to be sure, if we only knew the way."
Here followed a long discussion as to what it was best to do. Marco thought that, if there was any probability that the horse would have stopped at the tree, it would be better for him to go back and get him; but that, if he had got by the tree, and had gone home, it would be better for Isaiah to go back and get him, while they went forward to the end of the day's journey. He said that the trunk might be sent on.
Forester was himself very much at a loss to know what it was best to do. As it was farther to go back than it was to go forward, it would be plainly best for them to keep on, were it not for the difficulty of finding their way. But Isaiah told them he thought they would not have any difficulty on that account, as there were very few roads in such a new country. He said that, if they kept the principal road, they could get along without any trouble.
So Marco and Forester concluded to go on, while Isaiah returned. Isaiah said that he was not afraid to return alone. He said also that, if he found the horse at the tree, he would turn about and come and overtake them. And if he did not find him there, he would walk on home, and come the next day with their trunk.
Marco and Forester then went back to the place where they had dined, and collected together all the food which had been left, thinking that they might possibly have occasion to use it, before getting to the end of their journey. They also took the hatchet with them, and bidding Isaiah good-by, they set forth upon their solitary journey.
The road, though rough and narrow for wheels, was very good for a foot-path, and the travellers went on for several miles without difficulty, and with good courage. There was an unbroken forest on each side of the way, with here and there a solitary bird in the topmost branches, singing in melancholy notes, which echoed far and wide under the endless colonnades of trees. After they had gone on about four miles, they met a man coming with a team, who told them that there was no road of any consequence to turn them off, and that they would, therefore, probably find their way without much trouble. They were quite pleased to hear this. In fact, it was some relief to them to know that they were right, so far.
Marco was, however, not much accustomed to walk, and Forester, to accommodate him, advanced slowly. When they had gone about five or six miles, the shades of evening began to draw on. The days were getting shorter at this season of the year, and then, besides, it happened that, on this evening, there were some dark clouds in the west, and the sun was darkened behind them before the regular hour of his going down. Then, besides, the trees of the forest made it darker in the road in which Marco and Forester were travelling.
Now, just as it was thus beginning to grow dark, they happened to come to a place where the road divided, and Marco and Forester were both puzzled to decide which was the one which they must take. The roads seemed to be nearly equally travelled, though it was so dark that they could not see very well. They examined both as carefully as they could, and finally decided according to the best of their judgment, and went on.
They had some doubt whether they were right, and Forester thought, as they proceeded, that the road appeared somewhat different from the one in which they had been travelling. However, they thought it best to go on. After advancing about two miles, in a very circuitous direction, they came at last to a place where several trees seemed to have been cut away, and there were remains of several log huts. Marco was very much interested in this discovery, and he wanted to examine the huts very particularly. But Forester, when he found that they were not inhabited, thought it best to lose no time, especially as it was now beginning to be quite dark, and he urged Marco to leave the huts and press on.
They went on for half a mile farther, when Marco, seeing a glimmer through the trees, exclaimed that they were coming to some water.
"So it is," said Forester. "It looks like a pond or a river. If it is a river, we're lost."
They walked on a short distance farther, and then they began to hear the rippling of the water. In a few minutes, they were down upon the bank. It was a small river, flowing rapidly along, between banks overhung with bushes. Marco looked for a bridge, or for some place to cross, but they found none. In fact, the road did not go down to the water, but seemed to lose itself among the trees, before reaching the bank.
"This is not our road," said Forester. "We must go back."
"What road can this be?" asked Marco. "It seems to lead nowhere."
"I presume it is a logging road," replied Forester.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Marco. "Why, I suppose that those huts must have been a logging camp, where the men lived in the winter, when they came here to cut logs; and this is the road that they drew the logs by, down to the water. But this summer it has been neglected. They don't cut the logs in the summer."
"And what shall we do?" asked Marco.
"We must go back to the place where the road branched off," replied Forester.
"Or else go and stay in the huts all night," said Marco.
"Yes," replied Forester, "we can do that. Let us go back and see."
They accordingly went back to the huts. Marco asked Forester whether he thought they had better stay there.
"I don't know," said Forester, "Let us strike a light, and see how the huts look."
Marco took out his match-box, and, after first gathering a few dry sticks, he struck a light, and soon made a little fire. They found a birch tree growing near, and they stripped off some pieces of the bark. These they laid upon the fire, holding the ends of two long sticks upon them, in such a manner, that, as the pieces of birch bark curled up under the influence of the heat, they curled around the ends of these sticks, thus making flambeaux. These flambeaux, though of rude construction, gave a very excellent light, and Marco and Forester walked about the huts, waving them in the air, and illuminating the whole scene in a very brilliant manner.
They found that the huts were in a ruinous state. Only one of them had a roof, and that had been originally made of hemlock branches, which had now become entirely dry by long exposure. This covered hut was only a sort of booth, being entirely open on one side. Forester said that he recollected having heard of such huts, and that the men built their fire, not in them, but on the ground opposite the open side.
Forester and Marco concluded to remain in this hut for the night. They got together a great many hemlock branches, which they spread in the bottom of it for a bed, and they built a fire opposite the open part, to keep them warm.
Marco took a great interest in this fire. He piled the dry sticks upon it until he had a very warm and cheerful blaze, and then he collected by the side of it a heap of fuel, to use during the night.
In fact, Marco raised his fire too high; for, from the column of smoke and sparks, one little brilliant fragment lighted upon their roof; and it was slowly burning and smoking there, while Forester and Marco were opening their bag of provisions, to see what they could make out for supper.
Marco was counting out the potatoes, saying, "two for you, and two for me," when his attention was arrested by a spark which, at that instant, fell into his lap. He looked up to see where it came from, and saw that the fire, which had spread from the original spark which had fallen upon the roof, had burned a hole through, and the air, which was drawn up through the opening, was at that moment fanning it into a flame.
Marco ran out, calling out, "Get some water! Get some water!"
There was plenty of water in a brook, which flowed with a murmuring sound down a little glen behind the huts, but there were no buckets, and Marco called in vain. It would have been equally useless to have raised an alarm of fire, as there was nobody within ten miles to hear the cry. The flames spread rapidly, and Forester and Marco soon saw that there was nothing to be done but for them to stand quietly by and witness the conflagration. The flames rose very high and raged fiercely, and the light shone far into the forest, bringing into distinct view the whole scene around, which had been involved in deep obscurity. The roof was soon consumed, but the logs, of which the walls had been built, were much longer in burning. The fire made by these logs, when they fell in together upon the bed which Forester and Marco had prepared, was so intensely hot that it could not be approached for a long time.
As soon as the intensity of this fire had a little declined, Forester said that they must go to work and build themselves another hut. They examined the ruins of those which remained, but they concluded that it would be better to build a new one than to attempt to repair one of these. They accordingly determined to build one anew.
They found two young trees, growing pretty near each other, which had branches about six feet from the ground, so situated that they could place a strong pole across from one tree to the other, resting the ends upon the branches. This, Marco called the ridge-pole. They then cut other poles, which they placed with the end on one side upon the ground, and the other ends upon the ridge-pole. These were rafters, and upon the rafters they placed a great many branches of hemlock, which formed a roof. This roof, however, was only upon one side. The other side of the hut was open, and they built a fire opposite this opening, feeling safe in regard to their roof, as it was made of green branches.
This work occupied them an hour. At the end of that time, they put their potatoes into the fire to roast, and then laid down upon the hemlock beds which they made, to rest themselves a little while, till the potatoes should be done. Wearied with their long walk and the labors of the evening, they fell asleep, and did not wake again till four o'clock the next morning.
CHAPTER X.
LOST IN THE WOODS
When Marco awoke, he at first supposed that he had been asleep about an hour, and he was surprised to see how much the fire had burned down in that time. He crept towards it, and began to put the brands together, when suddenly he recollected the potatoes. So he began to feel for them in the ashes, by means of a long stick, which they had obtained for a poker. The potatoes were all burnt to a cinder.
Marco then awoke Forester, saying,
"Cousin Forester! cousin Forester! wake up. The fire has gone out, and our potatoes are all burnt up."
Forester awoke, and, after looking at the fire, and at the charred and blackened remains of the potatoes a moment, he took out his watch, and said,
"Why, Marco, it is four o'clock. It is almost morning."
"Is it?" said Marco. "Then we have not got much more time to sleep. Let us build up a good fire, and then lie down again."
"Yes," replied Forester. "We must keep up a good fire, or we shall take cold, it is such a cool night. It looks as if it were going to rain."
"What shall we do in that case?" asked Marco.
"I don't know," replied Forester. "It would be rather a hard case for us."
"We could stay here, I suppose," said Marco. "I don't think the rain would come through our roof."
"No," said Forester, "not much. But then we have nothing to eat."
"Could not we get anything to eat about here?" asked Marco.
"Not very well," replied Forester. "We have got money enough, but this is a case where money does not seem to be of any use."
"How do the men who come here in the winter to cut down the trees, get anything to eat?" asked Marco.
"O, they bring it all with them," said Forester. "The roads are better, in the winter, for sleds and sleighs, than they are now for wheels; for then all the stumps and roughnesses are covered up with the snow. So, wherever there is a camp, there is a road leading to it, and sleigh loads of provisions are brought up for the men, from time to time, all the winter."
"I wish one would come now," said Marco, "to us."
"I wish so too," said Forester. "But it is of no use to wish, and so we may as well lie down and go to sleep again."
"But, Forester," said Marco, "I don't see what we are going to do if it rains."
"Nor do I," said Forester. "But this is not the time for forming a plan. This is the time for going to sleep. I make it a rule, in all perplexities and troubles, when there is nothing to be done immediately in order to get out of them, to lie down and go to sleep."
Marco said no more, and Forester was soon asleep again. Marco himself felt so much concern about his situation that he could not go to sleep for some time. He lay watching the flames, which were creeping slowly around the logs which he and Forester had put upon the fire; for, while they had been holding the conversation above described, they had been employed in replenishing the fire.
Marco heard a sound, which, at first, he thought was a bear. He was on the point of awakening Forester, but, after listening a little longer, he concluded that it was only the roaring of the wind upon the tops of the trees. After lifting his head from his pillow of hemlock branches for a moment, until he satisfied himself that it was no wild beast, he lay down again and went to sleep.
He was awakened again, about three hours afterwards, by a long rumbling clap of thunder.
"What is that?" said Forester. "Thunder?"
"I believe it is," said Marco.
"And it rains, I believe," said Forester.
Marco raised his head, and looked out through the open part of the hut. He saw the drops of rain descending, and he heard the murmuring sound which the rain makes when falling upon the leaves in a forest. He saw, too, that everything was wet in the opening about the hut, although it seemed dry in the forest beyond, where the drops of rain had been intercepted by the leaves of the trees.
"We must get our wood under cover," said Marco, "or it will get wet and won't burn, and then our fire will go out."
"True," said Forester. "There is room for some of it in this hut. Let us get up and put it in."
So Marco and Forester arose, and, as they were already dressed, they were soon at work, putting the logs into the hut. Marco then proposed that they should go into the forest, where it did not rain, and get some more wood. But Forester said he thought that would be of no service, as they had no provisions, and, of course, could not stay there. "We must go," said he, "at any rate, whether it rains or not; for it is better to get wet than to starve."
"We have got something left in our bag," said Marco.
"Yes," replied Forester, "just enough for breakfast."
"How I wish I had a bushel of potatoes," said Marco. "Then we could stay here a week. Only we should want a little salt too."
Forester opened the bag and took out the provisions which were left. They found about enough for a breakfast for them, but they concluded to eat but half of their supply, as Forester thought it was best that they should put themselves upon short allowance.
"You see, it is possible," said Forester, "that we may be kept here in the woods a day or two; so we must use our provisions economically."
After breakfast, they went into the forest a little way, where they found that they were protected from the rain by the trees. This proved, as Forester said, that it had not been raining very long; and he thought, from appearances, that it would soon clear up.
At a little distance from their encampment, they found another hut, which was in better condition than either of those which they had seen before. It was covered with strips of birch bark, which made a very good roof. Some of these strips, or rather sheets, for they were quite large, had fallen down, and Marco ran and got one of them, exclaiming,
"What a monstrous sheet of birch bark!"
This sheet, which Marco lifted up from the ground where it was lying, was about four feet long and two feet wide. Marco wondered that so large a sheet could be got from any tree.
"What a monstrous tree it must have been!" said he to Forester.
"No," said Forester, "not very large. This sheet is about four feet long, which would make the tree only about sixteen inches in diameter."
"How do you prove that?" asked Marco.
"Why, the distance through a tree is about one third the distance round it," replied Forester. "Now, this bark grew around the tree, and it is about four feet long. Four feet is forty-eight inches, and one-third of forty-eight is sixteen. Now, sixteen inches in diameter would not be a very large tree."
"I mean to try this bark on some of these trees," said Marco, "to see how big a tree it will fit."
So Marco took up the sheet of bark. It was white and clean, especially on the outside, having been blanched by the summer rains. Marco, in order to carry the sheet more easily, put it upon his shoulders, drawing it up around his neck like a shawl.
"Cousin Forester," said he, "see my shawl. It would do for an umbrella, if I only had a handle."
So saying, Marco drew the sheet of bark up higher, holding it in such a manner that it covered his cap, rising into a point above his head. He held it in such a manner as to leave a little crevice open in front, to peep through, in order that he might see where he was going.
"See, Forester," said he,—"see my umbrella."
Forester looked at Marco's contrivance, and he immediately thought that such a sheet would be an important protection to the head and neck, in case they had to walk in the rain. He accordingly went to the hut and selected a sheet for himself, saying,
"This is not a bad plan. The most important point is to protect the head and neck, and this will do it pretty well. We can roll the sheets up and carry them under our arms, unless it rains fast, and then we can wrap them around us."
Having thus found a rude substitute for an umbrella, Forester thought that it would be best for them to set out on their journey. They accordingly returned to their encampment, and made preparations for resuming their march. As it was raining but very little at that time, they rolled up their umbrellas and carried them under their arms. Marco took the hatchet, and Forester the bag of provisions. Marco wanted to set fire to the hut which had sheltered them for the night. He wanted Forester to hear what a loud crackling the green hemlock branches, which they had put upon the roof, would make, when the flames from the wood below should envelop them.
But Forester would not consent to this. He said that some accident might possibly happen, by which they should be obliged to come back and spend another night there, though he hoped such a measure would not be necessary.
"I hope so, too," said Marco.
"We may lose our way again," said Forester.
"But then," said Marco, "we shall not come back to this place."
"Why, I have heard," said Forester, "of people losing their way in the woods, and, after a great deal of wandering, getting back to the place they started from. So that, possibly, we may wander about all day, and get back here at night."
"I hope not, I'm sure," said Marco. "I am tired of this old hovel."
"Why, the lumber-men stay in these places all winter," said Forester.
"Yes," replied Marco, "but then they know that they can get out whenever they please. We don't know that we can ever get out."
"That is true," said Forester, "and it makes a great difference."
"Don't you feel concerned about our finding our way out?" asked Marco.
"No," said Forester. "I make it a rule never to be concerned about anything."
"Oh, Forester!" said Marco,—"I think we ought to be concerned when we get lost in the woods."
"No," replied Forester. "We ought to do the best we can to get out, but not to be concerned. To be concerned is to be anxious and unhappy. This does no good. Being concerned would never help us find our way out of the woods."
Thus talking, the two unfortunate travellers walked on, with their rolls under their arms. It was well that they took them, for, after they had been walking about half an hour, the sky grew dark, and, a short time afterwards, the rain began to come down in torrents. Forester and Marco unrolled their umbrellas, and wrapped them about their shoulders and heads; and, at the same time, they fled for shelter under an enormous pine tree, which grew in such a spot that its branches extended in every direction, and formed a canopy above them, which kept off a great deal of the rain. When the rain abated a little, they walked on.
Their plan was to get back to the place where they had left the main road the day before. But they were somewhat perplexed to find it. In fact, they met with several roads which branched off from the one in which they were walking. These were old tracks, made by the lumber-men, and were partly grown up to bushes. They wandered about among these paths for some time, and at last, to their great joy, they came out into a good beaten road, which Forester immediately thought was the one which they had been travelling in the day before. Notwithstanding Forester's philosophical resolution, never to be concerned, he could not help confessing that he felt somewhat relieved to find the right road again; and, as the sun was just breaking through the clouds at this time, they both thought that their prospects were brightening considerably.
