CHAPTER IV.
LOST IN THE FOREST.
"I must get away from them!"
This was the one thought which surged through Joe Moore's brain as hedashed from the cave in the mountain. He felt that if he was captured itwould go hard with him. Did the desperadoes learn that he had overheardtheir conversation, they might make his very life pay the forfeit.
Forward he pitched, into the rain and the inky darkness, not knowing inwhat direction and just then caring but little. His one idea was to putdistance between himself and his pursuers.
"Stop!" he heard the men call, and heard the clicking of a pistolhammer. Then he reached some brushwood, and, crouching low, continued tomove on. No shot came, for the reason that the desperadoes could notlocate him with certainty.
At length Joe reached a clump of trees. Had he not had his hands beforehim he might have run into them head first. He glided around them, andthen continued onward, down a slope leading into a broad belt of timber.Still with his hands before him, he advanced through the undergrowth andbetween the stately trees for a distance of several hundred feet.
He was now exhausted with running and with fighting the entanglingvines, and had to halt to catch his breath. As he came to a stop helistened attentively, to learn if the men were following, but thedownpour of rain drowned out every other sound.
Soaked to the skin, hatless, and still short of breath, he went on oncemore, feeling that he was not yet far enough from the cave for safety.He tried to steer a course in the direction of the cave where he hadleft Darry and the old scout, but whether he was successful or not hecould not tell.
A hundred yards further and Joe came to another slope, covered withprairie grass. Down this he rolled in the darkness, to bring up in morebrush below. Then he climbed out of the hollow at the opposite side,and, reaching a large fallen tree, sat down to rest and think over hissituation. The tree lay partly under one with wide-spreading branches,so the boy was somewhat sheltered from the storm.
It must be confessed that Joe's heart sank within him as he reviewed thesituation. Where he was he could not tell, nor could he form anydefinite plan for rejoining his cousin and old Benson. More than this,he was afraid that the desperadoes might come up at any minute andpounce upon him.
But as the minutes slipped by, and he neither saw nor heard anything ofthose in pursuit, he grew easier. Evidently they had given up the chase.
"I hope they have," was what he thought. "I never want to get so closeto them again. They are a hard crowd, if ever there was one. If I canget to the fort and tell Colonel Fairfield of what I've heard, I'll bedoing a good thing."
An hour went by slowly, and then Joe looked around to find some means ofmaking himself comfortable for the balance of the night, knowing itwould be useless to pursue his course through the forest in thedarkness.
"This is camping out with a vengeance!" he muttered grimly. "Darry oughtto be along; I guess he'd soon get enough of it. I'll be lucky if Idon't fall in with some savage animal."
The thought of wild beasts gave him another shiver, and he concluded toclimb into a nearby tree, which was low-drooping and had a spot whereseveral branches made a sort of platform. He was soon up in acomparatively dry place, and here he fell asleep, being too tired tohold his eyes open longer.
When Joe awoke the storm had cleared away and the sun was strugglingthrough the scattering clouds. The forest still dripped with the rain,and with this dripping were mingled the songs of the birds and the humof insects.
Stiff from the wet, he climbed slowly to the ground and looked around.On every side were the tall trees and the dense undergrowth, shuttingoff the distant view of everything but a towering mountain to thewestward. This was the mountain he and the others had been ascendingwhen the storm had overtaken them.
"I suppose I may as well head in that direction," he mused. "If I canstrike the trail that will be something. But I'll have to keep my eyesopen, or I may fall into the hands of that Gilroy gang."
He was hungry, but there were no means at hand with which to satisfy thecravings of his stomach, and so he had to move forward without eating.
Getting into the forest had been difficult, but getting out was evenmore of a task. The underbrush at certain points was positivelyimpassable, and he had to make long detours, which took time and tiredhim greatly. At noon he was still in the forest, and the mountainseemed as far off as ever.
"I am lost, that is all there is to it!" he burst out with a groan. "Iam lost, and perhaps I'll never get out!"
The sun shone down directly on his head, and even though still wet hewas glad enough to seek the shelter the stately trees afforded. Here andthere he saw some berries of various hues, but they were strange to him,and he did not dare touch them for fear of being poisoned.
Toward the middle of the afternoon he reached a tiny brook, flowingbetween the rocks, and here he again rested. He reached the conclusionthat the brook came down from the mountain side and by following it uphe must sooner or later run across the lost trail.
"I'll follow it, anyway," he told himself, and, hungry and footsore, setout along the water-course.
Here the walking was somewhat better, for he had no brushwood and vinesto tear aside. The brook was clear, and he often saw trout and otherfish darting hither and thither. This gave him an idea, and, pickingsome berries he had seen, he dropped them in. At once some of the fishdarted forward and swallowed the berries.
"Hurrah, a good bait!" he cried, and quickly made himself a line out ofthreads from his clothing. To this he attached a pin bent into shapewith infinite care. Then he baited with the berries, and dropped theline in over a rock near a cottonwood.
Hardly had his bait touched the water when a good-sized fish seized it,and in a twinkling he had his catch landed. His heart gave a bound, forhere was the material for at least one square meal.
"I'll cook it right away," he told himself, after feeling to see if hehad any matches. His hunger was beginning to make him desperate, and hedid not much care even if the desperadoes did see his camp-fire.
With some trouble he got together a few sticks of wood and some mosswhich the sunshine had dried out, and soon he had a respectable blazebetween two rocks. With his jackknife he cleaned the fish as best hecould, and then broiled it on a green twig. When done the meat wasslightly burnt on one side and underdone on the other, but to thehalf-famished lad nothing had ever tasted sweeter, and he continued toeat until the whole fish was gone.
"Now I feel like myself," he muttered, after washing down the repastwith a drink from the brook. "On a pinch that meal ought to last meuntil to-morrow noon, and surely I ought to find my way back to theothers by that time."
With renewed energy he continued his tramp along the brook, often wadingin the water when the brushwood on either side was extra thick. He kepthis eyes and ears on the alert, but no human being came into sight, andpresently a great feeling of loneliness swept over him.
"I'm alone," he whispered to himself. "Alone! I must say I don't like itmuch," and he hurried on faster than ever.
The sun was shining over the distant mountain when he reached a bend inthe brook and came out upon a rocky trail which crossed the water-courseat a right angle. As he looked at the trail he was tempted to shout withjoy.
"The place we crossed yesterday morning!" he exclaimed. "There is thevery spot where we got a drink and watered the horses. Now I ought notto have such a hard time finding the cave."
He got down and examined the trail closely, hoping to discover somehoofmarks. But the heavy rain had washed everything clean. Nevertheless,he felt certain that he was right, and hurried along as fast as histired limbs permitted.
Leaving the brook, the trail wound in and out along a series of rocksand then through some heavy brushwood and along the edge of a jaggedcliff. The cliff was overgrown with heavy vines, which hung down andbrushed Joe's head as he passed.
"I can't be more than three or four miles from the cave," thought theboy. "And if I hurry----"
He stopped short, and then gave a cry of terror, and with good reason.He had seen the vines ahead suddenly part, and now there came to viewthe shaggy head of a black bear. As soon as the beast caught sight ofthe boy he leaped to the trail and advanced upon him.
Boys of The Fort; Or, A Young Captain's Pluck Page 5