The American family Robinson

by D. W. Belisle

It was the tenth day, since he was hurt, and the first that he had showed consciousness—and tremblingly the young girl watched his slumbers, fearing lest, when he awoke, the delirium would return. If it did not, he was certainly improving, and he would live. If it did—she shuddered to think of the probable consequences. Long and quietly he slept, and when he opened his eyes, he turned them quietly to the watcher, and observed:

"I think, Jane, I did dream of the wolf, for I have been dreaming of him again, and this time I thought I killed him; and as I know I have killed no wolf, I conclude the whole is a dream."

"Now, you talk rational, and are better, I am sure."

"I think I am, for I am hungry," said Sidney, pleasantly.

Sending Howe to watch by the couch, Jane began to consider what could be procured among their limited resources that would be nourishing, and yet harmless. Cooking utensils they had none. Their whole stock of vessels consisted of the shells of wild gourds that grew abundantly in the forest. Necessity often compels a resort to recipes in cooking not laid down in all the editions of gastronomy. It did in this case, and grateful was Jane that she had the shell of the gourd to prepare a meal in for Sidney. Taking some smooth white stones from the bed of the stream, she placed them in the fire, and then put the wings of a partridge into a gourd half-full of water, and as soon as the stones in the fire were at a red heat, one was taken up by running under it a forked stick; the dust that adhered to it was blown away, when it was dropped into the gourd, and in a short time the water was boiling. As soon as it ceased, another stone was put in, and in a little while a broth not unsavory, though so rudely cooked, was ready and eaten by him with relish.

At sunset the chief returned from the forest, all traces of the recent farce were gone from his face, on which rested the old expression of pride and hauteur. He asked no questions, expressed no concern; after eating a hearty supper, he threw himself on the ground by the camp-fire, and was soon asleep.

From the first night that Sidney had been attacked by the wolf, up to this time, not a night or a day had elapsed that some kind of wild beast had not been seen prowling about them; though they kept up large camp-fires, they were in fear of a whole pack making their descent upon them, when they must all be devoured, in defending Sidney, or leave him to fall a defenceless victim. They found, to their dismay, that they were in a portion of the forest overrun by beasts, which no doubt, looked upon them as trespassing on their rights; the dislike of which proceedings they evinced, by threatening in plain enough language to be understood by our wanderers, to eat them for their audacity. After enduring these hints a week longer, during which time the beasts had become so venturesome as to come in uncomfortable proximity to them, they began to think the most prudent course would be to vacate the neighbourhood as soon as Sidney could be removed with safety, which they had hopes of being soon, as he was rapidly gaining strength. The broken bones were in a fair way to join, and the wounds to heal.

The nights were becoming cool, and as the time flew by, they became anxious to remove from their dangerous position, as well as to be on their journey in order to find their way out of the forest before the winter set in. Without tools to work with, or weapons to defend themselves, or proper clothing, they quailed at the thought of being caught by the frost and snow in the mountains. But Sidney did not recover his strength very fast, and they put off their departure day after day on his account, after they had first set the time to start, until two weeks had now elapsed when they crossed the small stream and began to ascend the mountain. It was slow work, and at night they encamped on the summit, where no water could be had, instead of descending it, as they in the morning had calculated. That night Sidney was unable to sleep, and moaned until daylight. After breakfasting they began to descend; he insisted he was quite able to go, but the rest saw it was too great an exertion for him. To remain on the mountain they could not; to return to the place they had left was impossible. There was no other alternative but to go on. The chief on one side and the trapper on the other, he was half carried most of the distance; a little after the middle of the day they reached the foot of the mountains, and found themselves in a beautiful valley, along which ran a clear stream about a quarter of a mile from the base of the mountain.

Their first thought was to build a couch for Sidney, who had lain down on the ground with his head on a pile of leaves for a pillow. They could not shut their eyes to the reality that he was really quite ill again. Selecting a spot favorable for building a couch, they had one soon completed, on which he was laid, and a temporary cover of hemlock boughs and bark was thrown over it. They then commenced preparations for supper. That night they were unmolested by wild beasts, which augured well for their selection of a good ground to encamp on.

The next morning Sidney was much worse, and a cold, drizzling rain having set in during the night, drove them all under the shelter through the day, and even sent the goat and her kid, who had become very tame, bleating to their side. As the day advanced the storm became more furious, so much so that the water penetrated the roof and began to fall upon Sidney's couch.