by Donn Fendler
4 This is probably the point at which the bloodhounds lost Donn’s trail, the second day of the search for him.
5 Pucker bush is another name for wax myrtle. Its abundance and thickness of growth make it almost impassable for the hiker. All trails avoid it, wherever possible.
6 There was a terrific hail and sleet storm on top of the mountain that night, through which it is doubtful if an unprotected person could have lived. Above the timber line, a 40-mile wind was blowing and the temperature dropped to below 40 degrees before morning.
7 Although the Saddle Trail is extremely dangerous, had Donn been able to follow it, it would have led him down to Chimney Pond (see map) where Roy Dudley’s camp is located and which was inhabited that very night.
8 “The stones are so sharp on parts of Mt. Katahdin,” says veteran guide Earl W. York, Jr., “that a pair of new, heavy sneakers will not last over six trips, even when the regular trail is followed.”
9 As a matter of fact, Mr. Fendler and a small searching party were already looking for the boy, at this time. For a complete description of the organized hunt in which several hundred persons took part, see “Afterword.”
10 No amount of questioning could shake Donn on this point. He repeatedly used the word “hypnotize” to explain the action between Henry and the men, steadfastly maintaining that he was awake, that his eyes were wide open. Probably, never again in the course of his wanderings did the boy approach so closely the brink of insanity. Fear, loneliness, hunger, and the fall from the rock—the results of which were undoubtedly more severe than the boy realized—all contributed to this temporarily unstable state of mind.
11 The rain and dampness may have shrunk Donn’s sneakers—but it is more than probable that those sneakers, shrunk or not, would no longer fit the boy’s swollen feet.
12 A very characteristic remark that throws a flood of light on Donn’s acceptance of circumstances and conditions. He has a habit—when puzzled—of shrugging his shoulders, pursing his lips, and lifting his hands.
13 A windstorm wrought considerable havoc on Mt. Katahdin in 1932. Donn refers to the results of this storm.
14 Mr. Fendler had promised the boys a trip to Caribou, following the ascent of Mt. Katahdin.
15 This rock was heavy, very heavy, and yet Donn had carried it under almost impossible conditions for a day and a half. He had picked it up for his mother as a souvenir from the top of Mt. Katahdin and it never occurred to him—even though it might make the going easier—to throw it away.
16 Undoubtedly horsebrier, a tough, wiry vine growing in dense clumps and covered with the sharpest and strongest of thorns. The thorns hook inward, slightly, and are particularly dreaded, by all unprotected woodsmen.
17 Men experienced in the Maine woods testify that this is no exaggeration. In addition to the mosquitoes, blackflies, and moose flies that made Donn’s life miserable, there are two other common varieties that unquestionably did their part to make him uncomfortable—copperhead flies and another variety, almost invisible, called by the Indians “no-seeums.” Of these insect pests, veteran guide Harry Kearney says, “The moose flies are by far the worst, but the bite of a copperhead—a tan, translucent fly, about half an inch long—can cause blood-poisoning, unless cared for immediately.”
18 At this point in his story, Donn was asked, “But weren’t you glad to see daylight come?” His answer was a definite and emphatic “No!” Day, to him, meant only torture on the road, throbbing feet, burning bites, hunger, anxiety, and the fear that every step was taking him farther and farther from civilization.
19 A study of Donn’s wanderings (see map) brings only astonishment at the amount of mileage covered by the boy each day. The distance from Baxter Peak, down the North Peaks Trail to Wassataquoik Stream and, following it, to Lunksoos Camp, is approximately forty-eight miles. But the guides who heard Donn’s story and re-created the route he must have followed estimate that the boy covered at least twice this distance—perhaps three times—making from ten to fourteen miles a day over difficult wilderness terrain.
20 When it was explained to Donn that, in the semi-darkness of the cabin the sparks would be vividly visible but, in the bright sunlight outside, would not be noticeable, his comment was, “Boy, wasn’t I dumb!”
21 The agony of Donn’s every movement at this point is clearly understood when it is realized that his feet, by now, were a mass of cuts, each one inflamed and some infected. His knees were badly swollen and thorns in the instep of each foot were later removed at the hospital in Bangor.
22 This entire episode is reconstructed from the boy’s fragmentary memories of this particular experience. Without question, Donn kept going, overcoming difficulties on the way, in a semi-automatic manner during the final forty-eight hours before he was found. He was emaciated, starved, frightened, tired to the point of complete exhaustion—but his mind, after the second day, remained normal, except as fatigue clouded it. This is clearly indicated by the bright shafts of memory that continually pierce that cloud.
23 Probably a screech owl—maker of one of the most eerie sounds to be heard in the woods at night. It is remarkable that Donn does not, in his narrative, make greater reference to night sounds. The probable explanation is that he was so exhausted each night and slept so profoundly that he heard little. If this explanation is correct, he was protected from a hundred terrors. Wilderness woods are filled with night noises that are terrifying to the inexperienced.
24 There is reason to believe that, before Donn crawled out of the stream and onto this bar, he fainted and lay partly submerged in the leech-infested water. This would give the leeches opportunity to fasten themselves to his body. In his weakened condition, the sight of them may have caused the boy to faint again, on the sandbar. Exposed to the sunlight and completely out of the water, the bloodsuckers—as he calls them—would then, undoubtedly, drop off.
25 In discussing this with Donn, later, his father said, “Your Guardian Angel must have been helping you.” Donn replied, “He was pulling me along.”
26 This entire swamp episode is confused and uncertain. Donn, at one time, denied that he got into a swamp at all. At a later time, he was certain that he did. It has seemed wise, however, to include this second version of the episode, realizing that the boy, reaching the limit of his remarkable stamina, was probably—to use a pugilistic term—“out on his feet” for hours at a time.
27 Donn has a strong feeling that this gunnysack actually saved his life. It was, of course, invaluable in keeping the insects away from his bare feet and legs—especially at night. He still has the sack and treasures it, with good reason.
28 It is clear, here, that the boy had completely lost track of time. Instead of being lost for a week, at this point, he had wandered for the greater part of nine days. When asked why he had not kept track of the days by tying knots in a piece of long grass, or by notching a stick with a stone, he replied that he expected to find his way out any moment, the first two days, and that that feeling continued with him, from day to day, after that.
29 Donn had reached the East Branch of the Penobscot River. See map.
30 The soup must have tasted good—for this twelve-year-old boy, four feet, seven inches tall, weighed approximately 74 pounds the day he was lost, came out of the woods weighing 58 pounds. He had lost 16 pounds in nine days. To this note should be added the report of Dr. Ernest T. Young of Millinocket, who examined the boy a few hours after Donn reached the McMoarn camp: “His body was covered with scratches and insect bites, which apparently were giving him no little discomfort, and he was unable to rest upon his left hip because of an abrasion. In spite of his hazardous experience, his general physical condition seemed exceptionally good.”
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