Before long my fears were with reason increased. Before me rose a line of black rocks. There seemed scarcely room for the raft to pass between them. I could no longer keep my feet. I sat down, holding my pole. The raft was driving directly down upon a rock. It swerved a little. I shoved my pole against the rock, and it glanced clear. On it went—but numerous other dangers appeared. I was whirled by the rocks, the foam dashed from them, flying over me. I felt a dreadful blow; the raft quivered. I thought all was over with me, but it floated clear of the rock against which it had struck, and on I went. Suddenly the jerking motion of the raft ceased. I was clear of the rapid. I tried again to pole towards the shore, but the water was so deep, and the current so rapid, that I was able to make but slight progress across the river, when the raft began to pitch again, and I found that I was in another rapid. Away I was whirled as before. There were more rocks in this rapid; at all events the raft drove against more, and it began to suffer from the repeated shocks it was receiving—parts of it got loosened, and I dreaded every moment to see it part asunder, and to find myself hurried amid its fragments to destruction. Again a space of smooth appeared, but it was smooth because it was deep, and I could make but little way towards the shore among its whirling eddies. Still for the present I was safe, and had time to look about me. Thus I floated on, when a loud thundering noise assailed my ears, and a mass of mist rose before my eyes, giving evidence indubitable that I was approaching a formidable cataract. I had seen Niagara. Should this be only half its height it would be sufficient to make mincemeat of me. In vain I looked around for aid, and clinging desperately to my raft, I resigned myself to my fate.
Chapter Nineteen.
Unexpectedly reach the bank, and land in safety—My clothes are in tatters—After making a long journey find that I have returned to the very spot I left—Encounter a hungry wolf—Suffer from want of water—Meet a lynx, but find no liquid—Go to bed among some nests of rattlesnakes—Slaughter a host of snakes and sip the dew of the morning—More rattlesnakes—My onward journey continued—My cry is still for water—Obtain a larger share than I require—I swim down the stream, and on landing am received by a huge grizzly.
There was only one way I conceived by which, humanly speaking, I could possibly have been saved. I was whirled furiously down the current. I saw, a short distance before me, the commencement of the rapid which led to the cataract, when I felt the raft turn slightly round, and half stop, as it were, and by the appearance of the water I was convinced that it had got into an eddy. I darted down my pole. It speedily struck the bottom. I shoved on with all my might. New energy returned to me. I sprang to my feet. The raft no longer advanced towards the rapid, but I found that I could urge it surely and steadily towards the shore. A shout of joy, and an exclamation of thankfulness escaped my lips as it reached the bank, and, by the aid of my pole, I leaped on to the dry land a dozen feet at least from the edge. I was preserved from immediate death. But where had I drifted to? Where were my friends? What prospect had I of obtaining food to sustain life till I could find them? All these were questions which I asked myself, but to which I could give no satisfactory answer. Scarcely had I reached the shore than my raft, which I had not secured to it, began to drift away. Onward it went down the stream. I could not recover it; so a very natural impulse made me follow its course along the banks. I ran on for two or three hundred yards, when I arrived at the edge of a roaring cataract, some forty feet deep at least. First, there was a foaming rapid, with here and there black rocks appearing amid the sea of froth, and then came a dark treacherous mass of water, which curled over and fell downwards in a broad curtain into a deep pool, out of which there arose a cloud of dense spray with a deafening roar; and then the river went gliding away, dark and smooth, in innumerable eddies, showing the rapidity of the current, till it was concealed by thick woods and rocks. I now felt more than ever how deeply grateful I ought to be for the way I had been preserved, for not an instant longer could I have existed had I once reached the edge of the cataract.
I had, however, no time to lose, so shouldering my rifle and pole, I struck off at a right angle from the course of the river, hoping thus to across the track of my late companions. I had, it must be remembered, but two charges of powder remaining, and as at that season of the year there were no fruits ripe, my existence depended on my making an economical use of them.
I had another source of anxiety. I had left the camp in a pair of thin old shoes, and they were now so worn-out and coming so completely to pieces, that they no longer afforded any protection to my feet, which were already cruelly cut. My only resource, therefore, was to tear off the sleeves of my jacket, with which I bound them up. This afforded me some relief; but the ground near the river was in many places rocky, so that these bandages quickly again wore out. The sky, too, became cloudy, and the wind changed constantly, so that when I got into a hollow where I could not see any distant object by which to guide my course, I was often uncertain in which direction I was going. I found also, after I left the river, a great scarcity of water; the heat had dried-up all the water-holes and rivulets, and I thus began to suffer much from thirst. The pangs increased as I walked on. I might have killed a bird, or some animal, and quenched my thirst with their blood; but as I might require their flesh for food, I did not wish to expend a charge of powder till my present stock of meat was expended. It was getting dark. I was more thirsty than hungry; so on I went in the hopes of reaching a spring before it was quite dark. I looked about me. After a time, I could not help fancying that the features of the country were very similar to those through which I had passed some hours before, and at length the disagreeable fact forced itself on me that I had returned back on my own track, and that all my late exertions had been completely thrown away. For an instant I felt very much inclined to despair of reaching my friends, but I quickly recovered myself, and the clouds clearing away in the west, the glow of the setting sun showed me the right direction to take. I therefore determined to push on as long as the least glimmer of light enabled me to find my way.
I had not gone far, however, when I heard a rustling noise in a copse close to which I was passing, and presently out of it stalked a huge gaunt wolf, and planted himself before me in a threatening attitude, some twenty paces in advance, as if he had resolved to dispute my onward progress. My first impulse was naturally to fire, but I recollected that if I did, I might not possibly kill him, as I had only small shot, and that though I did kill him, his flesh would be far from pleasant food. I knew that if I showed the slightest symptoms of fear he might fly at me, so I faced him boldly, as I had faced many of his brethren before, and tried to look somewhat braver than I felt. I waved my long pole towards him, and advanced a pace or two, on which he retreated, still keeping his piercing eye fixed savagely on me. Again I advanced, and began shouting as loud as I could, hoping thus to frighten him away, but instead of this he set up the most terrific howls, which I could not help interpreting as invitations to his comrades to assemble from far and near, in order to make a meal on my carcase. The more he howled the louder I shouted, and the odd idea occurring to me that if I shouted out real names the wolf would be more alarmed, I called by name on all the Raggets, and Short, and Noggin to come to my assistance, and looked round, pretending that I expected them to appear. The wolf, I thought, winked his wicked eye, as much as to say, “That’s all gammon; don’t suppose you can do an old soldier like me;” but I cannot say positively, as it was growing dark. Still he would not move, and I had no wish to get nearer his fangs. I continued shouting, and he went on howling, and a sweet concert we must have made, for I had bawled till I was hoarse. I have an idea that my shouts kept his friends away. Perhaps it prevented them from hearing what he was saying.
At length, much to my relief, I saw him turn his head, first on one side and then on the other, and then about he went, as if he had given up all hopes of his expected supper, and away he skulked into the wood. On seeing this my courage rose to the highest pitch, and after him I went, shaking my pole and shouting and shrieking and hallooing at the very top of my voice to expedite his movements; and it is my belief that he was so frightened that he did not stop again to look round till he had got many a mile from where he met me; though I own that, when we first set eyes on each other, I was much the more frightened of the two.