Marooned in the Forest: The Story of a Primitive Fight for Life

by A. Hyatt Verrill

It was a curious sensation to stand once more within the four walls of a building, small and rude as it was, and I realized instantly how far superior it was to the best lean-to which I could build.

With my injured leg I would need rest and shelter, and here was a building provided as if by a miracle for my needs.

Throwing down my bundle of arnica, I made my way back to camp, gathered up my few simple belongings, and carried them to the cabin. Then, despite my disabled condition, I made another trip and brought over some blazing brands to kindle a fire in my new home, for the trip of a few score yards was less arduous than the labor of starting a new fire with my crude appliances.

My first care was to make use of the arnica, for my leg was again torturing me, and while I knew nothing of the method of using the herb, I assumed that it should be steeped or boiled and used as a compress, or poultice, and I soon had the freshly plucked plants simmering over the fire in the old iron pot.

Meanwhile I examined the interior of the hut with more care and found that none of the openings in the roof were directly over the bunk, so that I could be reasonably sure of protection from rain until I was able to repair the leaks. The leaves which had sifted within the door were soft, clean, and dry, and I piled a great mass of these upon the bunk. Upon them I placed soft balsam-fir twigs and thus secured a bed which was luxurious and comfortable indeed compared with the crude makeshifts to which I had become accustomed.

By the time the bed was prepared and the hut cleaned out the herbs in the pot were thoroughly steeped, and as soon as the brew was sufficiently cooled I proceeded to place a dressing on my foot.

The swelling had not decreased, but the discoloration and angry appearance of the wound were less, and while the pain was still intense, I found it more bearable than when I had first bandaged it. The soggy, boiled leaves and stems of the arnica I used as a sort of poultice, binding them upon the injured parts with strips of my rags soaked in the liquor, and then, quite exhausted with my efforts in my crippled condition and the pain in my limb, I crawled into the bunk and at once fell asleep.

I awoke much refreshed and very hungry, and to my great relief I found the pain in my foot had grown less and that the inflammation had not increased or spread.

As I cooked my meal over the fire in the hearth I planned for the future, for my good fortune in finding the cabin had caused my spirits to rise and I cast aside the doleful forebodings of dying slowly from my wound, which had possessed me.

That I must remain in the hut until my leg and foot had completely recovered was certain, for to attempt to cross the lake by raft, or to undertake any hard labor, with my foot in its present condition, would merely result in more trouble and longer delay. And then a sudden light dawned upon me, and, had I been able, I would have danced for joy as I realized that the presence of the cabin proved that it would not be necessary to cross the lake, after all. Strange that it had not occurred to me before; for everything about the place spoke of its occupancy by white men, probably gum-gatherers, trappers, or lumbermen, and beyond a doubt it was on a well-marked trail to the settlements, for, had its occupants come hither by canoe across the lake, the cabin would have been built close to shore and the trail would have led to the water’s edge instead of into the forest.