Lost on a Mountain in Maine (7 page)

It got cold that night, and I couldn't double up as tightly as I did other nights because my knees were too stiff. That left my feet out and, by morning, they didn't have any feeling in them at all—not one bit. I woke up once in the dark, shivering. I curled up tighter and tried to sleep, but I couldn't, for a long time. I kept thinking of Mommy and Dad and that airplane. I thought I heard another plane, but, of course, I didn't. People don't fly over that place at night. It was just something in my head—maybe, a mosquito near my ear.

There were funny sounds, though, in those woods—things walking, something big and heavy—and something drinking—and the funniest noise I ever heard, a high, quavering screech that made your blood cold.
²³
I guess it was a bird, for pretty soon the noise came from another spot. There were other noises, too—like trees and branches breaking and crashing down.

After a while, I fell asleep again, and I dreamed of a swink. Maybe you don't know what a swink is, but it looks like a pig—has big ears like a camel and has a long snout like an anteater. It is death to bugs and eats them up so fast that pretty soon there aren't any. I read about it once in a book of comics. Boy, I had a swink, and it was a beauty and what a job it did on those bugs! First it licked my legs clean, and then it licked my arms and it even licked my face and neck. I never had anything feel so good as the tongue of that swink.

It took me a long time to wake up. I'd keep waking up and falling asleep again. When I did finally get my eyes wide open, I couldn't make up my mind to go on. I was afraid that day would be just like all the rest.

S
OLDIERS IN A
S
WAMP
• E
IGHTH
D
AY

W
HEN I DID get on my feet I found they were only stilts. I felt I was standing way up in the air. I didn't dare walk much for a while, because I was afraid my feet would just fall apart and leave me walking on my bones. That's the feeling I had.

I rubbed my feet and then put them in the cold water of the brook and, after a while, a little color came into them and I could feel a pinch. When I could walk, I left the stream and went out into the sun and it felt good. I looked about for some strawberries, but there weren't any. So, after I warmed up a little, I went back to the stream and started down with only a drink of water for breakfast.

Boy, if I'd known what was just around the bend in that stream, I wouldn't have waded into that water. I climbed up on a rock to avoid a deep trout hole and I guess I was too weak to make it, for I found myself sliding off into the water. I tried to hold on to the rock, but it was pretty slick, and off I went,
clear up to my neck. That wasn't so bad, but the water was icy cold and I was still shivery after the night. For a second, I was too surprised to move. Then I floundered around and climbed out on a sandbar on the other side of the stream.

I felt something wriggling on my legs and looked down. Christmas! I was covered with little, black bloodsuckers. I knew them, for I had seen them before. They were all over me and they made me so scared that I began to yell and scream and jump up and down. I have always hated things like that and can't bear to have one touch me. I guess I went wild for a moment. I scratched and tore at them. I couldn't brush them off and I knew, if I didn't, they'd swell up worse than mosquitoes. I don't know why I jumped back into the water, but I did, and I thrashed around and rubbed myself with sand, and when I came out, nearly all the bloodsuckers were gone.
²⁴

Maybe some Scout Leader can tell me why they went away in the water. There were a few left and I picked them off as fast as I could. There was a spot of sun on that sandbar. I was so tired after my battle with the bloodsuckers that I lay down full length and closed my eyes. I dozed off, I guess, for I had queer dreams, none of which I can exactly remember. These dreams weren't like seeing Henry, the first day. These were
dreams
—but I
saw
Henry, all right, with my eyes wide open, that first day.

When I awoke, I felt better. I picked my way over the stones and got up on the bank. Right away, I found what looked like a trail. I followed it, going very slowly. I think I was just a little crazy, for I kept looking around to see if anything was after me, and here and there I'd start to run.

After running a little, I'd get out of breath and then I'd stop and lean against a tree until I felt better. I was having trouble with my legs. They would shake and quiver, all the time, but especially when I stood still. Boy, it's a queer feeling to have your knees quivering under you as though the bones had been taken out of them!

Now and then, terrible, dark feelings rushed up into my head, like the one I had before I fell asleep. I can't describe these feelings, but they were always dark and empty, but with something in them you couldn't locate—something that made your heart pound and your legs want to run.

I don't know whether I ought to tell something that happened that very morning, but I guess I shall. It's all right, of course, but people who don't believe as I do may think it's all imagination. I believe in Guardian Angels and, on my trip through the woods, one of the things that comforted me and helped me to bring myself out to safety was this feeling that I wasn't entirely alone.
²⁵

In the night, in those dark woods, that feeling helped me and, in the daytime, when the going was awfully hard, I felt as though I had someone to lean on, and that helped, too.

Well, after I struck that trail and had gone along for a quite a way, I tripped over a root and fell down. I was flat on my face. I couldn't get my arms under me—they were so weak at the elbows. I just lay there and waited. Suddenly, I felt something take hold of me by the shoulders—something like strong, gentle hands—and I felt myself lifted slowly until I was on my knees. I looked around, expecting to see a man, a guide maybe, and was I surprised when I could see nothing—not a thing! But the hands were still there
and they were lifting and lifting. I got first one foot under me and then the other, then I straightened up. I was stronger. I could walk.

Well, I hadn't gone a half-mile before I saw something hanging from a tree. I went over to it and found a gunnysack nailed to the trunk. It was old and rotten and had a hole in it, but it made me think of a sleeping bag. I took it down and threw it over my arm with my blue shirt. Boy, that bag came in handy right away! The mosquitoes flew up from the stream in clouds, and the blackflies were just about as thick. I put the gunnysack over my head and peeped out through a hole. That helped keep off the bugs, but it made me stumble and, boy, every stumble hurt! It seemed as if my head would burst, every time I pitched forward.

I pretty nearly passed right by some old cabins, because of that sack. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, because when I turned off the trail into the clearing, I knew there was nobody there. The cabin doors were falling off their hinges and weeds were growing on the doorsteps. The roofs were caved in and green with moss.

I pushed in one of the doors. The place smelled musty and damp. I went inside and put down my things and thought I'd take a rest. I stretched out on a bunk and closed my eyes. I thought, because of the roof and walls, the bugs wouldn't bother me. That's where I was wrong. They came in armies, big ones and little ones, and they lit all over me so thick I seemed to be covered with pepper. Boy! That was the worst place I was ever in. I got up as fast as I could and grabbed my things and went out.

A wind was blowing across the clearing and that scattered the bugs a little. I felt pretty bad. I wasn't getting any place, after all my walking. It seemed that everything I came to was deserted. I began to wonder if I'd make it and began to wonder, too, if people were looking for me, why I hadn't heard a shout or the sound of a gun or seen some sign. I knew the Boy Scouts wouldn't let me die in there without hunting for me and I wondered why I hadn't seen any of them. Boy, what funny things come into a person's head! I thought if I saw a Boy Scout, I'd ask him for a doughnut and a drink of milk. I thought so hard of doughnuts that sometimes I could smell them.

I wandered around those camps for a while looking for something to eat. I looked in all the old cans I could find. They were all empty. No use hanging around there. I got my things together and went on. After that, I lost track of what happened. I can't remember much—things are hazy, like dreams you can't describe afterwards.

It was that afternoon, I think, that I discovered part of my big toe was gone. I can remember that. I was stumbling along the trail. Now and then I was down on my hands and knees. It was easier, that way, when my feet got so bad that I couldn't bear my weight on them. Suddenly I looked down and saw that the tip of my big toe was gone—cut right off and the blood was coming out fast. I don't know how it happened. I never felt a thing. I must have hit a sharp rock or walked over a piece of glass in that camp. I sat down on a stump and held my toe in my hand. I held it tight, to stop the flow of blood. I held it for a long time, then I got up and went on.

I remember finding a hollow tree and sitting with my back in it and my blue shirt over my legs and the sack around my head. I got warm there and, maybe, that is where I spent the night. You may laugh at that “maybe,” but all I can remember, after that, is finding myself walking close to the stream on a level place where the grass was soft.

I couldn't tell whether it was another day or not, for I got all mixed up about where the sun ought to be. I remember looking at the water close to me, to see which way it was flowing. It wasn't wild and rushing anymore. It was spreading out, getting wider, and there were reeds and cattails. I could see the sky, then, and it was full of big clouds. I listened and watched for an airplane, but all I saw were big birds, like wild geese, going overhead.

Pretty soon I stepped into some water and went up to my knees. That scared me and made me back up. I climbed onto a tree trunk and I could see a big bog full of dead trees. Each one looked like a soldier. The sun was shining on them and some of the branches looked like silver. I had a queer feeling about those trees—they didn't want me to go that way—they were on guard there, blocking my path. They didn't want me to go on.
²⁶

J
OURNEY'S
E
ND
• N
INTH
D
AY

T
HE FIRST thing I really remember after that, I was standing looking down at a big rotten tree. I still had my blue shirt and gunnysack, but I seemed like somebody else. I was just watching myself do something. I saw myself crawl under the leaning trunk of the rotten tree and curl up into a ball. My legs went into the gunnysack and the blue shirt went around my head.
²⁷
I was on a merry-go-round, going 'round and 'round and up and down, and I tried to hang on for fear I'd fall off, and then, I guess, I fainted because I never knew anything more until the next day.

I can't remember much that happened when I woke up. I couldn't see very well for a long time. Maybe that was because the sun was shining in my eyes. When I tried to get up, I couldn't make it. I was sick to my stomach and my head ached. I knew I had to get up, though, for the flies were getting bad and my cut toe hurt me a great deal.

When I couldn't get up, I started to say my prayers. I prayed for a long, long time, and I remember what I said. It was just the same prayer I had made before. I asked God for four things. I asked him not to let Mommy and Dad worry too much, and then I asked Him to take care of the other children, and then I asked for food. I asked Him out loud for food because I hadn't had any for such a long time. I knew it was Sunday, and that made me “lost” a whole week.
²⁸
I wanted to go to church but, since I couldn't, I decided to say longer prayers. I think I prayed for an hour.

The fourth thing I prayed for was someone to come in and get me. I prayed as hard for this as I did for food, because I knew I was getting weaker and weaker.

After I had prayed, I looked around for food, maybe an acorn or a red berry that I could reach. Nothing happened. There wasn't anything I could eat. I expected to find something and I was so disappointed I started to cry. When I had cried a long time, I stopped and just lay there looking up at the sky through the branches of the trees. Something inside of me kept urging me to get up, and I'd try, but could never make it.

I guess I fell asleep for a little while. When I awoke I felt better and I worked until I got up on my feet. Christmas! I could hardly pull one foot after the other. That was at first; later, little by little, I found I could walk easier, and pretty soon I could go right along. The worst of it was when I fell down—then I'd lie just as I dropped for a long time. I remember I felt dazed and kept turning my head this way and that. Then I'd get up on my knees and, pretty soon, I'd get onto my feet again. Every time I fell I'd say, “Maybe I can't get up this time,” but I'd pray a little, and then I'd get up. Praying always helped me to get up.