Three days later two of Ensign Avery's men joined us, and reported that some of them had been captured by the Indians, and that several had been tortured and burnt at the stake. These two had escaped in the night, while the Indians were dancing round their companions. The next day the few who were left of Avery's party met us.

[Sidenote: A CHOICE MORSEL]

We marched along, keeping a sharp lookout for squirrels, chipmunks, or any kind of animal that might serve as food. Thus we travelled over rocky mountains and through wet swamps, pursued by Indians, faint from hunger, worn out with fatigue and exposure, hardly able to walk. We had no blankets or shelter. The nights were cold and frosty, and when it rained we were soaked and chilled to the bone.

We found almost no game. Edmund had the luck to shoot a big white owl.

We plucked it, cut it up, and drew lots for the different portions. I got a leg. It was tough--almost as tough as our fate. But after one has been chewing leather straps for sustenance, an old owl's leg tastes good. I would not have sold it for its weight in the most precious stones.

I shall not tell all the horrors of that march,--the pangs of hunger that we suffered, the greed for food, the sights that I saw, nor what men did in their despair. Some things had better remain unwritten.

CHAPTER XVIII

STARVATION--DRIFTING DOWN THE AMMONUSUC--FORT NO. 4, AND GOOD FORTUNE AT LAST

At last we arrived at the Ammonusuc River, where our provisions were to meet us, and found _nothing_.

Fires were still burning which showed us that the relief party had been there, and had left just before we arrived. We shouted and fired our guns, but got no response. We learned afterward that the lieutenant who had brought the supplies had waited two days for us, and then quitted the place two hours before we arrived, taking the provisions with him.

He heard our guns, but thought that they were fired by Indians, and kept on his way down the river.

Our condition was terrible. We had been stumbling along, feeble, gaunt, half crazed by hunger and fatigue. But the expectation of food, the certainty that we should find plenty at the Ammonusuc, had nerved us up to the effort to reach it, and now it was gone. It had been there and was gone. We broke down completely and cried and raved. Some became insane.

I have already said that I did not like Rogers for several good reasons.

But he was a man of tremendous nerve, energy, and resource. Though his great strength had been wasted by starvation, so that he could hardly walk, he still remained the leader, and said:--

"Don't lose your courage, men. I'll save all of you. It is sixty miles from here to Fort No. 4. Bring some dry logs. Hurry up. I am going to make a raft, and float down to No. 4 and fetch back food and help."

We brought logs and made a raft.

"You can find enough lily-roots and ground-nuts to keep you alive till I return. If any of you do not know how to clean and cook them, Captain Grant will show you. I promise you I will have all the food you want at this place in ten days."

[Sidenote: STARVATION]

He got on the raft with Captain Ogden, an Indian boy and Martin, who had been over the river before. They poled and paddled it to the middle of the river, and drifted down the stream out of sight.

The next day two more men crept into camp and reported that the Indians had attacked their party several days before, and had killed Lieutenant Turner of the Rangers, Lieutenant Dunbar of Gage's light infantry, and that of all their party they alone had escaped.

It was horrible to see the wild, haggard men stagger in, and to witness their despair when they received nothing to eat but such lily-roots and ground-nuts as we could find and boil. There was but little nourishment in them.

Ben Bradley left camp with three companions. They put on their packs.

Ben looked at his compa.s.s, and said:--

"Good-by, boys. In three days we shall be at home."

They were never afterward seen alive. Several years later some hunters from the Merrimac found a skeleton in the White Mountains. They knew it was Bradley's from the hair, and the peculiar leather strap with which his cue was tied.

After Rogers had been gone three days, I said to Edmund:--

"I can't stand this any longer. This place is like a mad-house. We shall go crazy if we stay here. Let us get some logs, make a raft, and drift down the river."

We talked it over that afternoon, and the next morning began building a raft. It was a rickety little affair. We finished it in one day, but were so feeble that we found it hard work. We cut a couple of saplings for poles, and took some wood, from which we whittled a couple of paddles.

One of the men, who had been over the river before, said:--

"Look out for a waterfall and rapids, some twenty miles down, boys.

Don't get carried over them, or you'll be lost. And there's another bad fall and rapids below that."

We poled the raft into the current, and let it drift. Toward night we paddled to the sh.o.r.e and camped there.

[Sidenote: THE RAFT IS LOST]

In the morning we shot a squirrel, and during the day got another.

Toward evening we heard the sound of the falls, and poled to the sh.o.r.e.

The night was cold. We had no shelter. It rained heavily. We were drenched and almost frozen. In the morning our little strength was gone.

We got on our raft, and poled it along till we were close to the falls; and then put in to the sh.o.r.e. Amos held the raft, while Edmund and I went below, in the hope that it might not be badly broken, as it came over, and that we could save it. We waded into the cold water, and Amos let the raft go. It was dashed on the rocks, as it pa.s.sed over the falls, and was completely broken up. The logs drifted out of our reach.

Thoroughly chilled, exhausted, and discouraged, we climbed the bank. We saw that fires had been made and trees burnt down, and then burnt into lengths.

"This is some of Rogers's work," said Edmund.

"He must have lost his raft as we did, and burned the trees to get logs of the right lengths to make a new raft."

"I hope he didn't spend much time over it. For I can't go any further, and B-Ben is all of a shake, and looks mighty poor."

"I guess last night did for me, Amos. I've got some kind of fever coming on. Start a fire if you can, and let us try to warm ourselves."

The ground was wet, but Amos and Edmund collected an armful of dry wood from sheltered spots. We rubbed some gunpowder into a rag, and sprinkled more over it. We held it near the lock of the gun, and flashed some powder in the pan. This lighted the rag, and we covered it with fine shavings which we had whittled, and made a fire.

"A canoe from below ought to reach here by to-morrow. I can keep up till then."

"Hush! I heard a p-partridge, and I've g-got strength enough to go after him." The tough, wiry fellow took his gun, and went into the woods.

[Sidenote: WELCOME VISITORS]

We heard a bang, and he came out with a partridge, which we roasted and divided among us. It only served to sharpen our hunger.

"There must be more of these p-partridges in there. I'm g-going to try again. I feel b-better."

"I will go too," said Edmund.

They walked into the woods, and in half an hour I heard a couple of shots, and they came out with two birds. We roasted them, ate them, and felt that we were saved. We kept a good fire going, built a rough shelter of boughs, and slept quite comfortably that night, though the fever troubled me somewhat. The next morning we made an attempt to find more birds, but were unsuccessful. A little after noon we saw a birch coming up the stream with three men in it. They waved their hands to us, and landed where we were at the foot of the falls. They shook hands, and one of them said:--

"You look pretty peaked, boys. I guess a little food and drink won't hurt you."

We ate greedily, and the food put warmth and life into us. We asked about Rogers.