“Au revoir, Le Grand!” he called loudly, and entered the forest. The trail was good, and he hastened on at a half-lope, hurrying to Her. He forded a wide stream, leaping agilely from rock to rock.
“Onlee feeft’en mile’ an’ den Ah see Marie!” he murmured, and kept on.
The blazed path widened; here and there were side tracks where the men from the post came for wood. Then he reached Rivière des Sauvages. Two trees lashed together in the middle afforded the chance of a dry crossing, and Jules ran along them nimbly; he was three-quarters of the way over when he stumbled on a knot that stuck sharp and tripping from the trunk, and he fell. The water was shallow, as he was near the shore, and he struck the bottom heavily. He lay there an instant, shocked into numbness, while the cold water rippled round him.
“Oh, dat jambe!” he cried as he struggled to stand up. A thrust of pain ran through his body; he tried to rise again, but the violent surge of physical suffering overcame him and he tumbled back in the water, sickened and weak.
The chill strength of the liquid flow restored him somewhat in a few minutes. He felt of his left leg and found that it was broken below the knee.
“Par dam’, dat ver’ bad!” he moaned, dragged himself ashore, and sat there suffering. His leg was numb below the knee; but above, it throbbed and caused him piercing pain.
“No stay ici lak’ dees!” he grunted stoically; “mus’ see Marie!” Inch by inch he worked his way to an alder clump and cut long sticks from it; these, with cloth as bandages, he used as rough splints and tied up the broken leg securely.
“Ah go jus’ sam’!” he said, and started on the trail again on his hands and one knee, dragging the useless leg. It was slow, racking work, but Jules forced himself, though the maimed leg staggered him with its thrusts of pain. In a little while the palms of his hands were raw and his one good knee ached and bled, but he kept on.
The darkness was still and hot; summer insects burned his skin and tortured his face; the unevenness of the trail made him slip and fall flat often, forcing groans from him, but he pushed ahead slowly and resolutely. He was exhausted and throbbed from head to foot.
“Marie, Ah comme!” he whispered, spoke, then called, and struggled forward on the dimly visible trail.