Lost in the Cañon

by Herbert Strang

  LOST.

  In the summer of 1864 Paul Seeton went to spend his holidays with hiscousin, Frank More.

  Frank lived in the northern part of Maine, on the outskirts of a vastforest. Paul was a Boston boy, who had scarcely ever been out of thecity in his life.

  It was in Aroostook county, a place famous for growing the biggesttimber in the northern states, a place known to lumbermen and loved bythem; with few inhabitants except those who are engaged in the timbertrade; with no villages and no roads.

  One day Frank proposed a fishing excursion. Their destination was aboutfifteen miles away, on a chain of lakes that extended far into theforest.

  They set out at break of day, rode on horseback over a rough road forabout two hours, and at length reached the shore of a lake.

  Here they hired a boat from a man who lived in a log house, andembarking, sailed for five or six miles to a place where the lakenarrowed. Here taking down their sail they rowed for some distancethrough a channel so narrow that the branches of the lofty pines oneither side almost met. It took a good hour to pass through this, whensuddenly they emerged from it and found themselves on a second lake,three or four times as large as the first.

  Up went the sail again, and away they went over the second lake forabout ten miles. All around grew the primeval forest, dense, dark andluxuriant. But Frank had been here before, and the scene was quitefamiliar.

  The boat went swiftly onward, and at last approached the farthestextremity of the lake. Here a small peninsula jutted forth from theforest into the lake, which was cleared and under cultivation. Upon itarose a log hut, from the rude chimney of which smoke was curlingupward.

  It belonged to a man named Spence, who cultivated the ground in summerand in winter went lumbering in the woods. He lived there all alone, andapart from his solitude was very comfortable.

  The boat grounded on the beach in front of Spence's hut, and the boyswent up to the house. They found Spence himself at home, cooking hisdinner.

  The boys did not stay long. After asking a few questions as to the bestfishing holes, they took to the boat again, and following Spence'sdirections, rowed toward a small creek which penetrated among the hills,and passing up this, at length came to a small basin enclosed by highwooded shores. Here they began to fish.

  Although they waited patiently, they found, to their greatdisappointment, that the fish would not come. At length Paul felt abite; he pulled up his line in a fever of agitation, and with a glow oftriumph jerked into the boat a tiny fish about four inches long. ButPaul's triumph was not at all shared by Frank.

  "Pooh!" said he, "it's only a miserable perch."

  "A perch?" said Paul. "Isn't it a good fish?"

  "Good? Why, these lakes are crammed with them. It's trout we want, notthese." And as Frank said this he jerked his own line with somecomplacency. Soon something bit his bait. He jerked it out and found, tohis disgust, another perch.

  At length Frank said that he was going up the woods a little distance,to a lake which was about a mile off, connected with this by a brook. Hecould follow the windings of the brook and easily get there.

  Paul, however, thought he would stay where he was, for the woods lookedvery rough, and he enjoyed being in a boat, even if he didn't catchanything.

  So Frank started off, promising to be back within an hour.

  Paul continued his fishing. He moved the boat to the opposite shore. Nobites came--that is, none came to the bait, but he soon became aware ofother bites, which he did not expect. These were produced by swarms ofmosquitoes, which gathered so thickly that at last Paul had to pull inhis line and give himself to self-defense. He shifted the position ofthe boat a dozen times, but his persecutors followed him. At last hecould stand it no longer, and concluded to go after Frank.

  Nearly an hour had passed, and it was about time for Frank to return. Itwas Paul's intention to stroll along the brook, and he would be certaineither to meet Frank in his return, or else he would find him at thelake to which he had gone.

  It was very swampy, and Paul sank in up to his knees for some distance,but at length reached rising ground. The brook was only a small one, andwas bordered by such dense underbrush that Paul found it impossible tofollow it. In fact, a much better path appeared.

  This was a rough track, overgrown with moss and ferns, which was used bythe lumbermen in winter. It went up from the lake apparently in the samedirection as the brook.

  So he walked along this path, forcing his way through alder bushes andtangled ferns, until at last he came to a stop in front of a wide andimpassable marsh.

  The lumber path in winter ran across this, but now it could not betraversed. So Paul tried to go around it. But after completing abouthalf the circuit, he reached a swampy place which he could not cross.

  He now retraced his steps, and at length decided to return to the boatand wait there.

  The lumber path could not be very easily found, but at last he turnedinto a place which looked very much like it, and walked on for somedistance. But the way was rough. At length the path ceased altogether.He found himself in the wild wood.

  He saw now that he had missed the path, but thought that the best planwould be to keep straight on, and get back to the lake. So he kept on.It was very hard work. The ground was covered with moss, in some placesit was spongy, in others it was overgrown with ferns, while every nowand then he would have to climb over the trunk of some fallen tree.

  In this way he struggled onward for a long time, and wondered why hecould not see any signs of the lake. At last he began to growdiscouraged. The full conviction forced itself upon him that he had losthis way. He had been wandering; how long a time and how far he did notknow.

  There were no signs whatever of the lake. What to do he could not tell.He stood still, and looked around. Dense forest trees arose on everyside, shutting out the view, and enclosing him with their gloomy shades.

  Then he called as loud as he could. There was no answer. He called againand again, and waited for a long time after each cry to hear whetherthere was any response. But none came.

  What to do now was the question. He was not a coward, but any one mightwell have been alarmed, lost in those vast, trackless forests. Paul wasalarmed, of course; but he was a spirited boy, and was not inclined tosit down and give up. After a few minutes he wisely decided that it wasnecessary to have some plan, and choose some definite direction in whichto go.

  So he concluded that the safest way for him would be to retrace hissteps as carefully as possible.

  Back he went, and managed to recover his track, but lost sight of itagain, and found himself once more completely at a loss.

  Turning on his own track in this way had only severed him utterly fromthe last faint hold which he had on the possible direction of the lake.

  Once more he stood and considered, and finally after making up his mindas to the probable position of the lake, he started again with thedetermination to keep on in as straight a line as possible in that onedirection.

  His course was rough and toilsome in the extreme. Swamps, bogs, thickferns, dense underbrush, tangled alders, fallen forest trees, hugerocks, all came by turns before his path, and all had by turns to bepassed through or surmounted. Paul's city life had not fitted him for atask like this; but despair gave him strength.

  Hours passed. Every hour brought fresh difficulties. His strength andresolution gradually gave way. No signs of escape had shown themselves.No sounds had come to his ears which promised help. He felt himselfalone; alone to struggle with his dismal fate.

  At last he reached rising ground. Here the woods were clear. The treesstood far apart, and the walking was easy. Utterly worn out, he toiledon and at length reached the crest of the hill.

  Scarcely had he done so than an exclamation burst from him. Immediatelybelow lay a broad sheet of water. He hurried down to the margin, andlooked anxiously around in all directions.

  There was nothing, however, but a sheet of water surrounded by woods.Whether this wa
s the lake which he had left, or some other one, he couldnot tell. At any rate he was too fatigued to make any further exertion,so he flung himself upon the ground to rest.

  Gradually sleep overtook him, and his slumber was so sound that heactually did not awake till the following day. On rousing himself heheard the birds singing, and felt the fresh, cool air of the morning.

  He was very hungry, but felt rested and refreshed, and went at once toexamine his position.

  From the place where he stood he could see the end of the lake to theright, but on the left the view was impeded by a promontory.

  His first effort now was to go to the promontory and examine the otherend. The distance was not great, and he soon reached the place.

  He looked eagerly down the lake, when, to his unutterable delight, hesaw at the lower end the lone cottage to which the boat had carried himthe day before.

  All was now plain. He had wandered back to the lake blindly, and by suchan extraordinary circuit that he had come to the shore about five milesaway from the cottage.

  He now set forth to work his way back to the cottage. He followed thewindings of the shores, keeping the water always in sight. The distancewas only five or six miles, but so circuitous was the shore, so full ofindentations, and so rough was the way, that it was nearly evening whenhe reached the cottage.

  No one was there when he arrived, but he waited, and at dusk a boat cameover the water with Spence and Frank. For a day and a half they had beenscouring the woods for him, and Frank, in his despair, did not know whatto do. Paul was received as one who had risen from the dead.