CHAPTER XXI.
LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS.
It was near noon, and I had generally walked fast. I looked around me, and tried to recollect the numerous windings I had made, but soon saw it was impossible to recall them, as I had paid no attention to them during the chase. I now looked at my compass; I knew that the stream on which we were camping ran down the valley from west to east, and that hence I was on its southern side to the eastward of our camp. I must therefore go due north to reach the stream, and then follow it in order to reach camp. The calculation was correct, and could not fail to bring me home soon. I therefore walked on quietly, and every now and then blazed a tree, or laid a bush upon a rock, to be able to find the stag when we went to fetch it. The first hour passed: at one time I walked through thinly-wooded, narrow valleys, then over stony hills, or crossed small streams and grassy meadows, but saw no sign of the river.
The second hour, during which I doubled my pace, passed in the same manner, and yet I saw nothing of the river. I looked repeatedly at the compass on my rifle stock and the one I carried in my pocket. My calculation was correct, of that there could be no doubt; but how was it that I had not yet reached the river? It might possibly make a small bend northwards here; but I must strike it, as it belonged to Canadian river, and all the waters from these mountains flow to the east. I was certain of my matter, and laughed at myself for imagining for a moment that I had lost my way. I marched cheerily on, especially up the hills, as I fancied I should see the looked-for river from each of them, and did not notice that I was exerting myself excessively. A certain anxiety crept over me involuntarily. I hurried on the faster the deeper the sun got behind the mountains; I ran down the hills and hurried up them, dripping with perspiration, with a strength which only the feeling of impending danger can arouse. My energy and presence of mind still mastered my growing anxiety, as I hoped, felt almost convinced, that I should soon reach the river which had disappeared in so extraordinary a way, until at last the sun sank behind the highest peaks of the Cordilleras, and the gloom of night spread its mantle over the earth. Exhaustion followed long unnatural exertion so suddenly, that I sank down on the last hill I ascended, and my strength of mind and body gave way utterly. In a few minutes I fell into a deep sleep, and must have lain there for five hours, as when I woke I felt on my watch that it was midnight. I remembered everything I had hitherto done, and the last thought which had accompanied me up to my unconsciousness startled me out of it—the thought that I had lost my way.
When I got up, my faithful Trusty nestled up to me and licked my hands, as if wishing to remind me that he was still with me, and I was not quite deserted. I threw my arm round his strong neck, and pressed him firmly to me, for at this moment he was an unspeakable comfort, and restored my resolution and strength of will. I soon reverted to my old rule, which I had kept for years, of always assuming the worst in disagreeable situations, and making myself familiar with it; then a man has nothing more to fear. I had lost myself, and must seek my road to camp in some direction alone. I felt strong enough to do so, but must reflect on the mode of doing it. I had sufficient powder and bullets for my weapons; this was a precaution which I had constantly urged on my comrades since our start, never to go out with half-filled powder-horn or a few bullets for the sake of convenience.
My box was full of lucifers, and I had also flint, steel, and punk. I carried bandages and a housewife, as well as a little bottle of old brandy in my knapsack, and a rather large gourd at my side, I was fully equipped to make this tour, which, honestly speaking, was now beginning to appear interesting to me, and I laughingly thought of the friend of my childhood's years, "Robinson Crusoe," who at that day sowed the first seed of my later irresistible desire for such a life. I was soon decided, and regained my entire calmness. I sprang up, and went cautiously down hill to reach the valley, in which on the previous evening I had looked in vain for the river. The darkness and the rocky sloping route made my walk very difficult; but still I reached my destination at the end of an hour, and entered a very narrow valley, in which I soon found enough dry wood under the trees to light a fire. I had turned cold, and the warmth it spread around me did me good. Close by I found a fallen tree, to which I carried the burning logs, in order to produce a longer lasting fire to throw out more heat; then I piled up a heap of bushes and brushwood, laid myself on it, with my bag under my head, and after drinking some brandy and water, fell asleep as soundly as if I had been in my bed on the Leone.
The sun was high in the heavens when I awoke, I felt as strong as usual, and lit a fire for breakfast, drank some more water from my gourd, and went northwards in good spirits. I thought of the possibility that this river might not be the one named by Tiger, and might lose itself in a subterranean bed; but, extraordinary to tell, I did not for a moment reflect that it could run due north parallel with mine; my only idea was, that it perhaps made a great bend. I had been walking near an hour, and had crossed several stony hills, when I looked down into a narrow gorge, in which alders and poplars grew, leading to the supposition of water, and on going down I noticed an old animal quietly grazing. I crawled very cautiously nearer to it, for now I seriously needed some meat, and on looking up from a deep ditch excavated by the rain, I saw a small deer by the side of the old one, which was staring at me over the bushes, I fired and saw the deer dart among the bushes, but knew that it bore death in its heart. The old animal dashed close past me, but I did not fire as I was certain of securing the deer and did not care to waste a bullet unnecessarily.