<h2 id='ch_VI'>CHAPTER VI<br/> <span class='sub-head'>I MEET WITH AN ACCIDENT</span></h2>
<p>I had expected to see tilled fields, shingled houses, perhaps a
distant village or at least a clearing, with blackened stumps, a tiny
shack, or rude buildings marking the outposts of the settlements.
Instead, I found myself upon the banks of a great lake, the wooded
shores unbroken by clearing, field, or house as far as eye could reach.
A lake of the wilderness, silent, bathed in a vast solitude, and with
naught but the forest-clad hills reflected on its placid blue bosom. Far
out upon its surface a solitary loon swam slowly, a tiny ripple marking
his wake, and from his throat came a peal of weird, maniacal
laughter.</p>
<p>Echoing from the hills, multiplied a thousandfold, from every
direction the sounds poured forth, as though the woods were filled with
demons, mocking my disappointment and my plight.</p>
<p>A half-hour previously I had been filled with happiness and elation
at the thought that my journey was over. Now I was cast down,
discouraged, and ready to give up, for I realized that to cross the lake
was impossible and that for miles and miles I must push through the
forest around its shores ere I could hope to proceed on my southerly
course. Dimly I remembered that Joe had spoken of a lake and no doubt
this was the very one he had in mind, but whether the settlements were
to the south, east, or west I knew not. With wistful, weary eyes I gazed
across the broad, blue expanse of waters, and the forests beyond seemed
vast indeed, and to penetrate them and find my way to civilization
through their labyrinths seemed a hopeless, endless task.</p>
<p>Gradually, however, a measure of common sense returned to me, and I
realized that I was terribly hungry and that here was as good a place as
any in which to camp. No doubt the lake teemed with fish, and presently
I had baited my hook and had cast the line into deep water from a
jutting ledge. Scarcely had the hook descended when it was seized and a
moment later a large salmon-trout was floundering about among the ferns
behind me. Three of the great fellows were landed, and, well satisfied
with my success, I soon had one broiling over my fire. After my meal I
felt far better and gradually my first disappointment wore away and I
began to plan for the future. If I was compelled to walk about the lake
I would not want for food, at any rate, and, moreover, I thought,
traveling along the shore would be far easier than tramping through the
woods or clambering among the boulders and up and down the high banks of
the river. By the time the setting sun painted the lake with crimson and
gold and the distant forests turned purple and blue in the fading light
I was again cheerful and went to sleep upon a bed of fragrant fir in a
lean-to, fully expecting to resume my way upon the morrow.</p>
<p>Traveling along the shore of the lake was by no means as easy as I
had anticipated, for dense brush and a tangle of brambles grew close to
the water’s edge in many places and here and there deep alder swamps
compelled me to make long detours. But in the swamps I found frogs,
which gave me a change of diet, and I managed to capture a fine, big
turtle that was sunning himself on a log on the lake’s shore. Two days
of weary tramping brought me to the western end of the lake and once
more I became utterly discouraged as I saw that my efforts had been in
vain. The outlet of the lake was a broad, swiftly flowing river
which barred me from the farther shore as effectually as the lake
itself. My case seemed hopeless indeed, for the river, where it emptied
into the lake, was, I knew, fully as wide and impassable as the outlet,
and I could see no way of reaching the country to the south save by
retracing my steps for miles, crossing the river where it was narrow,
and then following down its other bank. The very thought of this made me
sick at heart, for it meant over a week’s steady walking through the
forest. Moreover, my shoes—light, rubber-soled affairs which I had
donned only to wear in the canoe—were almost worn out, my clothes were
in rags and tatters, and my flesh was scratched, bruised, and torn by
brambles, brush, and stones. My coat, flannel shirt, hat, corduroy
trousers, and heavy boots had all gone down with the canoe and I had
been compelled to journey through the forest and endure all my hardships
in light tennis-shoes and with only a white cotton shirt and a pair of
thin worsted trousers for my costume.</p>
<p>Although I had satisfied my most pressing needs, which were food,
fire, and shelter, yet I had suffered a great deal from exposure, the
bites of black flies and mosquitoes, and the scratches of brush and
brambles. Hitherto my mind had been so filled with more important
matters that I had paid little heed to these discomforts, yet now my
sufferings came back to me and I could scarce bring myself to think of
again facing the long journey necessary to carry me back to a spot where
I could ford the river.</p>
<p>To add to my misery it commenced to rain and I was forced to build a
lean-to and a fire and to camp where I was by the outlet of the lake. It
was no drizzle, such as I had experienced hitherto, but a torrential
downpour, the water falling in perfect sheets and at times completely
blotting the farther shores from my view. Within a few hours the river
was a foaming torrent and the waters of the lake had risen perceptibly.
Huddling in the shelter of my rude hut and striving to keep warm in the
glow from my fire, I gazed upon the gray, wind-lashed lake and the
dripping, sodden shores, feeling unutterably miserable. Near my camp a
large log was stranded on the beach and idly I watched it as the waters
crept higher and higher, and I began to wonder if the lake might not
rise to the spot whereon I had made my lean-to. I was pondering on this
and had almost decided to brave the elements and make another shelter on
higher ground when a sudden gust of wind whipped the water into
foam-capped waves and with a final lurch the log slipped from the shore
and floated, bobbing up and down, on the surface of the lake. A moment
later it had felt the suction of the current and, lurching and rolling,
was drawn rapidly toward the river. It was a small matter, but it was of
the greatest importance to me, as it pointed a way by which I might
escape from the wilderness.</p>
<p>For the first time it now occurred to me that by means of a few logs
I could build a raft and cross the lake as soon as the storm passed and
the waters were again calm and peaceful.</p>
<p>My first idea was to gather together logs which had been cast on the
beach, float them in shallow water to a spot near my camp, and then bind
them together with moosewood bark, vines, and roots until I had formed a
raft which would support my weight. Accordingly, I set forth on the
following morning to gather my logs together, but I soon found that my
scheme was worthless, for the high water and wind had carried off any
stranded logs and trees which were buoyant enough to float, and during
the entire forenoon I did not succeed in finding a single log which
would serve my purpose. At one spot, however, I discovered a number of
dead trees lying on the bank well away from the shore, and I decided
that if these could be rolled or pulled to the lake they would serve
excellently. It seemed an easy matter to accomplish, but the very first
log which I selected proved how futile were my efforts. The fallen tree
was some twenty feet in length and over eight inches in diameter at the
largest part, and while its weight was not so tremendous, yet its length
and the numerous stubs of branches which projected from it prevented me
from making the least headway. After hours of back-breaking toil I
succeeded in prying it up and in placing small limbs beneath it, but
despite every effort I was utterly unable to force the log sideways or
endways or to roll it along. Finally exhausted, hungry, and discouraged,
I gave up in despair and made my way to my fire to cook my meal. The
fire had been built near a good-sized tree and as I approached my camp I
discovered that the flames had spread to the tree, had eaten their way
through the trunk, and that it had fallen upon my lean-to, which was a
broken, flattened mass of twigs and branches. It was a small loss, but I
was thankful that I had not been within the shelter when the tree came
crashing down upon it. The next instant I gave a shout of joy, for the
fire had shown me a way to solve my difficulties with the logs. Dolt
that I was not to have thought of it before. I could cut the logs into
easily handled lengths by means of fire, and for that matter could fell
standing trees by the same means, more easily, if more slowly, than by
an ax.</p>
<p>The tree which had been accidentally cut down was scarcely six inches
through, but it was a green, live tree and I realized that much larger
dead trees could be cut in less time, and as soon as I had eaten I
gathered up a firebrand and started toward the logs on which I had
labored so strenuously and with such poor success. Placing a pile of dry
twigs and branches under a log, I soon had them ablaze and threw more
dry sticks around and over the trunk. Very soon the dry wood of the tree
had caught fire and was burning merrily, but, much to my chagrin, I
found that the flames were spreading along the surface of the log,
fanned by the breeze from the lake. For a moment I was in a quandary to
prevent the entire log from being consumed before it was cut through.
Then, gathering up handfuls of the soft, damp earth and moss, I
plastered it over the surface of the log on either side of the fire. Had
I possessed a birch-bark dipper I could easily have thrown water upon
it, but I had not used a birch-bark dish for days and had no time in
which to fashion one at the moment. The wet earth checked the spread of
the flames, and as fast as the heat dried it off I threw on more, and
within an hour the log cracked, sagged, and a moment later broke in two.
My experiment was a success, and, quickly raking away the fire, I
started it in another place. All through the afternoon I worked and
before nightfall had six lengths of smooth, dry logs cut and ready to
roll to the lake. They were all free from projecting branches and stubs,
which I had also burned off. My eyes were smarting with smoke, my skin
was scorched, and my hands black with muck and grime, and I was
inexpressibly tired, but I was supremely happy, for I felt that the
worst of my labors were over and that within a couple of days I would be
paddling across the lake toward the southern shore.</p>
<p>A bath in the lake did much to refresh me, for although the water was
icy cold, it served to relieve my numerous burns and the irritation of
my eyes, and the next morning I felt well able to resume my work of
getting the logs to the water’s edge.</p>
<p>It was not difficult to pry up the short, eight-foot lengths and to
place branches beneath them, and at the end of an hour I saw the first
log slip down the bank to the shore and splash into the water. I fairly
cheered as the piece of trunk floated within a few feet of the beach and
I felt as much elated and as proud as though I had launched a ship.
Hastily dragging it to the shore, I secured it to the bushes and climbed
up the bank to attack a second log.</p>
<p>Experience had taught me much and I found far less work in prying up
and sliding this log than I had expended on the first. In a short time I
had it beside its fellow on the beach, and when I at last ceased my
labors to prepare my midday meal only two logs remained upon the
bank.</p>
<p>I was very tired, for I had worked ceaselessly since early morning,
but I had accomplished a great deal and felt that I had earned a few
hours’ rest. It was a pleasant afternoon, warm and balmy, with a soft,
blue haze half-veiling the distant woods and hills, and had I possessed
the necessities of life and a canoe I would have been glad to spend many
days camping on the borders of the lovely forest lake. As I rested,
lying upon the mossy bank and gazing off across the sparkling water, I
was attracted by a slight rustle near at hand, and, turning my head, saw
a graceful deer step forth from the ferns. For a moment the splendid
creature stood, suspiciously sniffing the air, and then, scenting no
danger, trotted to the water’s edge and plunged into the lake.</p>
<p>Straight toward the opposite side he swam, his antlers, ears, and
nose alone showing above the rippling surface of the water, and a long,
silvery wake trailing behind him. How I envied his powers of swimming
and how I longed for a means to slay him, for my admiration of his
beauty and grace was as nothing compared with my longing for broiled
venison and for some tough buckskin with which to cover my poor,
blistered, bruised feet. Perhaps, I thought, I might devise some trap
with which to capture a deer, or by finding a runway I might noose one,
and I sighed to think how I was compelled to suffer and to win a bare
existence although surrounded by game which would furnish me with
innumerable comforts.</p>
<p>But if I was to complete my raft it was high time I resumed my
labors. Arising regretfully, for my rest upon the moss was delightful, I
tramped through the woods to the two remaining logs.</p>
<p>Presently I had pried one of the logs from behind some projecting
stumps and, having placed branches beneath it to hold it up, I dropped
my lever and started back to secure some pieces of wood I had used as
rollers. In doing this I stepped upon the other log, my foot slipped, I
fell crashing backward, my arm knocked the props from under the log, and
with a thud it dropped, pinning my foot beneath it.</p>
<p>A terrific pain shot through my leg, I writhed and twisted, shrieking
in agony as I strove to free my foot, and sweat poured from my face with
the torture, but still my leg remained fast wedged between the logs, and
I saw before me a lingering, terrible death.</p>
<p>Of what use had been all my trials my hard, weary tramping, and my
strivings to reach my fellow-men? Of what avail my brave conquering of
nature and my struggle to live? Caught like a rat in a trap, I would die
by inches here by the borders of the lake and years later some wandering
hunter would find my whitened bones and in them read the story of my
awful fate. Better by far if I had shared Joe’s death in the swirling
waters of the river. Half-crazed by pain and maddened to think of my
helplessness, I gathered all my strength, gritted my teeth, and with a
last despairing effort threw myself sideways and shoved with my free
foot upon the log. My foot seemed torn from the ankle, and my whole
spine seemed seared with red-hot iron, but despite the agony I knew that
I was free; I rolled forward on my face and mercifully lost
consciousness.</p>
</div>
<div class='chapter'>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />