Tracks Of A Rolling Stone - Henry J. Coke (novels in english .TXT) 📗

Chapter 28 Pg 148

What Remains To Be Told Will Not Take Long.  Hardships

Naturally Increased As The Means Of Bearing Them Diminished. 

I Have Said The Salmon Held Out For Many Days.  We Cut It In

Strips,  And Dried It As Well As We Could; But The Flies And

Maggots Robbed Us Of A Large Portion Of It.  At Length We

Were Reduced To Two Small Hams; Nothing Else Except A Little

Tea.  Guessing The Distance We Had Yet To Go,  And Taking Into

Account Our Slow Rate Of Travelling,  I Calculated The Number

Of Days Which,  With The Greatest Economy,  These Could Be Made

To Last.  Allowing Only One Meal A Day,  And That Of The

Scantiest,  I Scored The Hams As A Cook Scores A Leg Of Roast

Pork,  Determined Under No Circumstances To Exceed The Daily

Ration.

 

No Little Discipline Was Requisite To Adhere To This

Resolution.  Samson Broke Down Under The Exposure And

Privation; Superadded Dysentery Rendered Him All But

Helpless,  And Even Affected His Mind.  The Whole Labour Of

The Camp Then Devolved On Me.  I Never Roused Him In The

Morning Till The Mules Were Packed - With All But His Blanket

And The Pannikin For His Tea - And Until I Had Saddled His

Horse For Him.  Not Till We Halted At Night Did We Get Our

Ration Of Ham.  This He Ate,  Or Rather Bolted,  Raw,  Like A

Wild Beast.  My Share I Never Touched Till After I Lay Down

To Sleep.  And So Tired Have I Been,  That Once Or Twice I

Woke In The Morning With My Hand At My Mouth,  The Unswallowed

Morsel Between My Teeth.  For Three Weeks We Went On In This

Way,  Never Exchanging A Word.  I Cannot Say How I Might Have

Behaved Had Fred Been In Samson's Place.  I Hope I Should

Have Been At Least Humane.  But I Was Labouring For My Life, 

And Was Not Over Tender-Hearted.

 

Certainly There Was Enough To Try The Patience Of A Better

Man.  Take An Instance.  Unable One Morning To Find My Own

Horse,  I Saddled His And Started Him Off,  So As Not To Waste

Time,  With His Spare Animal And The Three Mules.  It So

Happened That Our Line Of March Was Rather Tortuous,  Owing To

Some Hills We Had To Round.  Still,  As There Were High

Mountains In The Distance Which We Were Making For,  It Seemed

Impossible That Anyone Could Miss His Way.  It Was Twenty

Minutes,  Perhaps,  Before I Found My Horse; This Would Give

Him About A Mile Or More Start Of Me.  I Hurried On,  But

Failed To Overtake Him.  At The End Of An Hour I Rode To The

Top Of A Hill Which Commanded A View Of The Course He Should

Have Taken.  Not A Moving Speck Was To Be Seen.  I Knew Then

That He Had Gone Astray.  But In Which Direction?

 

My Heart Sank Within Me.  The Provisions And Blankets Were

With Him.  I Do Not Think That At Any Point Of My Journey I

Had Ever Felt Fear - Panic That Is - Till Now.  Starvation

Stared Me In The Face.  My Wits Refused To Suggest A Line Of

Action.  I Was Stunned.  I Felt Then What I Have Often Felt

Since,  What I Still Feel,  That It Is Possible To Wrestle

Successfully With Every Difficulty That Man Has Overcome,  But

 

Chapter 28 Pg 149

Not With That Supreme Difficulty - Man's Stupidity.  It Did

Not Then Occur To Me To Give A Name To The Impatience That

Seeks To Gather Grapes Of Thorns Or Figs Of Thistles.

 

I Turned Back,  Retraced My Steps Till I Came To The Track Of

The Mules.  Luckily The Ground Retained The Footprints, 

Though Sometimes These Would Be Lost For A Hundred Yards Or

So.  Just As I Anticipated - Samson Had Wound Round The Base

Of The Very First Hill He Came To; Then,  Instead Of

Correcting The Deviation,  And Steering For The Mountains,  Had

Simply Followed His Nose,  And Was Now Travelling Due East,  -

In Other Words,  Was Going Back Over Our Track Of The Day

Before.  It Was Past Noon When I Overtook Him,  So That A

Precious Day's Labour Was Lost.

 

I Said Little,  But That Little Was A Sentence Of Death.

 

'After To-Day,' I Began,  'We Will Travel Separately.'

 

At First He Seemed Hardly To Take In My Meaning.  I Explained

It.

 

'As Well As I Can Make Out,  Before We Get To The Dalles, 

Where We Ought To Find The American Outposts,  We Have Only

About 150 Miles To Go.  This Should Not Take More Than Eight

Or Nine Days.  I Can Do It In A Week Alone,  But Not With You. 

I Have Come To The Conclusion That With You I May Not Be Able

To Do It At All.  We Have Still Those Mountains' - Pointing

To The Blue Mountain Range In The Distance - 'To Cross.  They

Are Covered With Snow,  As You See.  We May Find Them

Troublesome.  In Any Case Our Food Will Only Last Eight Or

Nine Days More,  Even At The Present Rate.  You Shall Have The

Largest Half Of What Is Left,  For You Require More Than I Do. 

But I Cannot,  And Will Not,  Sacrifice My Life For Your Sake. 

I Have Made Up My Mind To Leave You.'

 

It Must Always Be A Terrible Thing For A Judge To Pass The

Sentence Of Death.  But Then He Is Fulfilling A Duty,  Merely

Carrying Out A Law Which Is Not Of His Making.  Moreover,  He

Has No Option - The Responsibility Rests With The Jury; Last

Of All,  The Sufferer Is A Criminal.  Between The Judge's Case

And Mine There Was No Analogy.  My Act Was A Purely Selfish

One - Justifiable I Still Think,  Though Certainly Not

Magnanimous.  I Was Quite Aware Of This At The Time,  But A

Starving Man Is Not Burdened With Generosity.

 

I Dismounted,  And,  Without Unsaddling The Mules,  Took Off

Their Packs,  Now Reduced To A Few Pounds,  Which Was All The

Wretched,  Raw-Backed,  And Half-Dead,  Animals Could Stagger

Under; And,  Putting My Blanket,  The Remains Of A Ham,  And A

Little Packet Of Tea - Some Eight Or Ten Tea-Spoonfuls - On

One Mule,  I Again Prepared To Mount My Horse And Depart.

 

I Took,  As It Were,  A Sneaking Glance At Samson.  He Was 

Chapter 28 Pg 150

Sitting Upon The Ground,  With His Face Between His Knees, 

Sobbing.

 

At Three-And-Twenty The Heart Of A Man,  Or Of A Woman - If

Either Has Any,  Which,  Of Course,  May Be Doubtful - Is Apt To

Play The Dynamite With His Or Her Resolves.  Water-Drops Have

Ever Been Formidable Weapons Of The Latter,  As We All Know;

And,  Not Being So Accustomed To Them Then As I Have Become

Since,  The Sight Of The Poor Devil's Abject Woe And

Destitution,  The Thought That Illness And Suffering Were The

Causes,  The Secret Whisper That My Act Was A Cowardly One, 

Forced Me To Follow The Lines Of Least Resistance,  And Submit

To The Decrees Of Destiny.

 

One More Page From My 'Ride,' And The Reader Will,  I Think, 

Have A Fair Conception Of Its General Character.  For The

Last Two Hours The Ascent Of The Blue Mountains Had Been Very

Steep.  We Were In A Thick Pine Forest.  There Was A Track -

Probably Made By Indians.  Near The Summit We Found A Spring

Of Beautiful Water.  Here We Halted For The Night.  It Was A

Snug Spot.  But,  Alas! There Was Nothing For The Animals To

Eat Except Pine Needles.  We Lighted Our Fire Against The

Great Up-Torn Roots Of A Fallen Tree; And,  Though It Was

Freezing Hard,  We Piled On Such Masses Of Dead Boughs That

The Huge Blaze Seemed To Warm The Surrounding Atmosphere.

 

I Must Here Give The Words Of My Journal,  For One Exclamation

In It Has A Sort Of Schoolboy Ring That Recalls The Buoyancy

Of Youthful Spirits,  The Spirits Indeed To Which In Early

Life We Owe Our Enterprise And Perseverance:

 

'As I Was Dozing Off,  A Pack Of Hungry Wolves That Had

Scented Us Out Set Up The Most Infernal Chorus Ever Heard. 

In Vain I Pulled The Frozen Buffalo-Robe Over My Head,  And

Tried To Get To Sleep.  The Demons Drew Nearer And Nearer, 

Howling,  Snarling,  Fighting,  Moaning,  And Making A Row In The

Perfect Stillness Which Reigned Around,  As If Hell Itself

Were Loose.  For Some Time I Bore It With Patience.  At

Length,  Jumping Up,  I Yelled In A Voice That Made The Valley

Ring:  You Devils! Will You Be Quiet?  The Appeal Was

Immediately Answered By Silence; But Hearing Them Tuning Up

For A Second Concert,  I Threw Some Wood On The Blazing Fire

And Once More Retired To My Lair.  For A Few Minutes I Lay

Awake To Admire A Brilliant Aurora Borealis Shooting Out Its

Streams Of Electric Light.  Then,  Turning Over On My Side,  I

Never Moved Again Till Dawn.'

 

The First Objects That Caught My Eye Were The Animals.  They

Were Huddled Together Within A Couple Of Yards Of Where We

Lay.  It Was A Horrible Sight.  Two Out Of The Three Mules, 

And Samson's Horse,  Had Been Attacked By The Wolves.  The

Flanks Of The Horse Were Terribly Torn,  And The Entrails Of

Both The Mules Were Partially Hanging Out.  Though All Three

Were Still Standing With Their Backs Arched,  They Were 

Chapter 28 Pg 151

Rapidly Dying From Loss Of Blood.  My Dear Little '

Strawberry' - As We Called Him To Match William's 'Cream' And

My Mare Were Both Intact.

 

A Few Days After This,  Samson's Remaining Horse Gave Out.  I

Had To Surrender What Remained Of My Poor Beast In Order To

Get My Companion Through.  The Last Fifty Miles Of The

Journey I Performed On Foot; Sometimes Carrying My Rifle To

Relieve The Staggering Little Mule Of A Few Pounds Extra

Weight.  At Long Last The