PREFACE
If a man or a well-grown boy is lost in the wilderness, what can he do? Shall he whimper and give up? Never, if he has real blood in his veins. He faces a primitive struggle for life. It is a question of reinventing primitive means of living. How to make a fire, how to obtain food, how to clothe and shelter himself—these are the immediate problems to be met. He is a Robinson Crusoe of the wilderness.
This story of a modern Crusoe in the far Northern forests embodies many actual experiences, and it is an epitome of the basic facts of outdoor life. In books like Harper’s Camping and Scouting, Outdoor Book, Young Naturalists, and others, the appliances of civilization are always at hand. It is a very different situation when one is lost in the depths of the forest without food, fire, weapons, or compass. But the problem of working out means of existence is one that will interest every lover of outdoor life, whether his interest is in camping, canoeing, fishing, or hunting, whether he is a member of the Boy Scouts or the Woodcraft Indians or simply an individual who knows the call of the wild. The adventures of Mr. Verrill’s hero forth a story of thrilling interest and constant suspense. And it is also full of suggestions which will stimulate many readers to work out some of the hero’s problems for themselves.
MAROONED IN THE FOREST
CHAPTER I
ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS
It all happened in the twinkling of an eye. I turned quickly at a sudden cry from Joe—my half-breed guide—in time to see him cast the handle of his broken paddle aside and leap forward for the extra paddle. Before he could reach it the canoe swerved, swung broadside to the rushing current, crashed sickeningly against the jagged rocks, and the next instant I was floundering about in the icy, swirling water. Bumping against rocks, struggling for breath, battling frantically with the torrent, I was swept down the river. Time and again my feet touched bottom, but each time, ere I could gain a foothold, I was drawn under, and each second I realized that my strength was growing less, that my lungs were bursting for air, and that in a few more moments all would be over. Down, down, I sank; above me the green water closed in and from my mouth and nostrils tiny bubbles of escaping air rose upward despite my every effort to withhold the scanty breath within my lungs. I was drowning I knew, and vaguely I wondered what had become of Joe, and how my friends would take the news of my loss here in this river of the great wilderness. Suddenly my foot touched a hard object. I threw all of my last remaining strength into a spasmodic kick and lost consciousness.
Slowly I opened my eyes and with wonder looked upon a strip of deep-blue sky against which the dark-green boughs of evergreens were sharply outlined. For a space I marveled, for so firmly convinced had I been that I was drowned I could scarce realize that I was not looking with spiritual eyes at a scene in another world. Then it dawned upon me that through some miracle I had been saved, and with a mighty effort I sat up.
I found myself upon the very brink of a little precipice—a natural dam over which the river fell in a miniature cataract, although the greater portion of the current swept to the left and poured like a mill-race through a narrow channel in the rocks. In a moment I realized how I had escaped. My final kick had driven me beyond the sweep of the current, I had been washed upon the edge of the waterfall, and my position had allowed the water to drain from my lungs. I was still terribly weak, I was choking with the water I had swallowed, my head swam, and with the utmost difficulty I half crawled, half waded to the shore and threw myself upon the moss-covered bank where rays of sunshine penetrated the foliage overhead.
Although I was saved from death in the river by the merest chance, still my plight was desperate, for I was alone in the heart of the great woods, miles from civilization or settlements and without food, weapons, shelter, or anything save the clothes upon my back and the few trifles my pockets might contain. Possibly, I thought, the canoe might be washed ashore with its contents, or Joe might be safe and in the vicinity; and with these ideas strong in my mind I rose and slowly walked along the river’s bank. I was now rapidly regaining strength, and, with the aid of a stout pole of dead wood which I picked up, I had little trouble in making my way up the stream. Presently I called out Joe’s name, but only the soft echo of the woods replied. Again I trudged on, frequently calling and ever searching the edges of the stream and the eddies for the wreckage of the canoe, but not a sign of my guide or of my outfit could I find. At last, firmly convinced that Joe had been lost and that the canoe and its contents were gone forever, I seated myself upon a log and strove to collect myself and look squarely at the future. It would have been bad enough to be cast away in a country which I knew, but here I was completely at a loss. I had trusted entirely to Joe, and I knew nothing of this wilderness nor of the direction or route to the settlements; while, to make matters still worse, my compass had been lost in the river.
The last was really the least of my troubles, for I had little doubt that I could readily determine which direction was east and which west by the sun, and I had also heard that the moss grew thickest on one side of the trees; but as to whether that side was north or south I could not remember, cudgel my brains as I might. I also knew, in a general way, that the settlements were southward from the camp we had left, and I knew that Joe had expected to reach them by running down with the current, paddling across a lake, and tramping through the woods, and that he had stated the entire trip would consume about five days. However, I could not even I guess how many miles we had traveled before the canoe upset, and I had taken no notice of the turns and twists in the river. For all I knew, the stream might flow east, or even north, at the spot where I had crawled ashore, and if I attempted to travel in any direction—using the flow of the current as my guide—I might easily travel directly away from my fellow-men.