On rising next morning, he found the frost keener, and he spent the day and a number of those that followed in growing anxiety, which was only temporarily lessened when he once succeeded in killing a deer. There was almost a dearth of animal life in the lonely valley. Sometimes at first, Vane was feverish; often he was irritable, and the recollection of the three or four weeks he spent with him afterwards haunted Carroll like a nightmare. At last, when he had spent several days in vain search for a deer and the provisions were almost exhausted, he and his companion held a council of emergency.

"There's no use in arguing," Vane declared. "You'll rig me a shelter of green boughs outside the tent and close to the fire. I can move from the waist upwards, and if it's necessary, drag myself with my hands. Then you can chop enough cord-wood to last a while, cook my share of the eatables, and leave me while you go down to the sloop. There's half a bag of flour and a few other things I'd be uncommonly glad of on board her."

Carroll expostulated; but it was evident that his companion was right, and next morning he started for the inlet, taking with him the smallest possible portion of their provisions. So long as he had enough to keep him from fainting on the way, it was all he required, because he could renew his stores on board the boat. The weather broke during the march; driving snow followed him down the valley, and by and by gave place to bitter rain. The withered underbush was saturated, the soil was soddened with melting snow, and after the first scanty meal or two he dare risk no delay. He felt himself flagging from insufficient food, and it was obvious that he must reach the sloop before he broke down. He had tobacco, but that failed to stay the gnawing pangs, and before the march was done he was on the verge of exhaustion; forcing himself onward, drenched, and grim of face; scarcely able to keep upon his bleeding feet.

It was falling dusk and blowing fresh when he limped down the beach and with a last effort launched the light dinghy and pulled off to the sloop. She rode rather deep in the water, but that did not trouble him.

Most wooden craft leak more or less, and it was a considerable time since he had pumped her out. Clambering wearily on board, he made the dinghy fast; and then stood still a moment or two, looking about him with his hand on the cabin side. Thin flakes of snow drifted past him; the firs were rustling eerily ash.o.r.e, and ragged wisps of cloud drove by low down above their tops. Little frothy ripples flecked the darkening water with streaks of white and splashed angrily against the bows of the craft. The prospect was oppressively dreary, and the worn-out man was glad that he was at last in shelter and could s.n.a.t.c.h a few hours' rest.

Thrusting back the slide, he stepped below and lighted the lamp. The brightening glow showed him that the boat's starboard side was wet high up, and, though there was a good deal of water in her, this puzzled him, until an explanation suggested itself. They had moored the craft carefully, but he supposed she must have dragged her anchor or kedge and swung in near enough the sh.o.r.e to ground towards low-tide. Then, as the tide left her, she would fall over on her starboard bilge, because they had lashed the heavy boom down on that side, and the water in her would cover the depressed portion of her interior. This reasoning was probably correct; but he did not foresee the result, until after lighting the stove and putting on the kettle, he opened the provision locker, which was to starboard. Then he saw with a shock of dismay that the stock of food they had counted on was ruined. The periodically submerged flour bag had rotted and burst, and most of its contents had run out into the water as the boat righted with the rising tide; the prepared cereals, purchased to save cooking, had turned to mouldy pulp; and the few other stores were in much the same condition. There were only two sound cans of beef, and a few ounces of unspoiled tea in a canister.

Carroll's courage failed him as he realised it, but he felt that he must eat and sleep before he could grapple with the situation. He would allow himself a meal and a few hours' rest; and crawling out while the kettle boiled, he shortened in the cable and plied the pump. Then he went below, and feasted on preserved beef and tea, gauging the size of each slice with anxious care, until he reluctantly laid the can aside. After that, he filled his pipe and, stretching out his aching limbs on the port locker, which was comparatively dry, soon sank into heavy sleep.

CHAPTER XXVIII

CARROLL SEEKS HELP.

Carroll slept for several hours before he awakened and sat up on the locker, shivering. He had left the hatch slightly open, and a confused uproar reached him from outside--the wail of wind-tossed trees; the furious splash of ripples against the bows; and the drumming of the halliards upon the mast. There was no doubt that it was blowing hard; but the wind was off the land, and the sloop in shelter.

Filling his pipe, he set himself to think, and promptly decided that it would have been better had he gone down to the sloop in the beginning, before the provisions had been spoiled, instead of in the end.

Reluctance to leave his helpless companion had mainly prevented him from doing this, but he had also been encouraged by the possibility of obtaining a deer now and then. It was clear that he had made a mistake in remaining, but it was not the first time he had done so, and the point was unimportant. The burning question was: What must he do now?

It would obviously be useless to go back with rations that would barely suffice for the march: Vane still had food enough to keep life in one man for a little while. On the other hand, it would not be a long sail to Comox with a strong northerly wind; and if the sloop would face the sea that was running he might return with a.s.sistance before his comrade's scanty store was exhausted. Getting out the mildewed chart, he laid off his course, carefully trimmed and lighted the binnacle lamp, and going up on deck hauled in the kedge anchor. He could not break the main one out, though he worked savagely with a tackle, and deciding to slip it, he managed to lash three reefs in the mainsail and hoist it with the peak left down. Then he sat down to gather breath--for the work had been cruelly heavy--before he let the cable run and hoisted the jib.

She paid off when he put up his helm, and the black loom of trees ash.o.r.e vanished. He thought he could find his way out of the inlet, but he only knew that he had done so when the angry ripples that splashed about the boat suddenly changed to confused tumbling combers. They foamed up in swift succession on her quarter, but he fancied she would withstand their onslaught, so long as he could prevent her from s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up to windward when she lifted. It would need constant care, and if he failed, the next comber would, no doubt, break on board. His task was one that would have taxed the vigilance of a strong, well-fed man, and Carroll had already nearly reached the limit of his powers.

His case, however, was by no means an unusual one. The cost of the subjugation of the wilderness is the endurance of hunger and thirst, cold and crushing fatigue; and somebody pays to the uttermost farthing.

Carroll, sitting drenched, strung up, and hungry, at the helm, was merely playing his part in the struggle, though he found it cruelly hard.

It was pitch dark, but he must gaze ahead and guess the track of the pursuing seas by the angle of the spouting white ridge abreast of the weather shrouds. He had a compa.s.s, but when his course did not coincide with safety it must be disregarded. The one essential thing was to keep the sloop on top, and to do so he had frequently to let her fall off dead before the mad white combers that leaped out of the dark. By and by, his arms began to ache from the strain of the tiller, and his wet fingers grew stiff and claw-like. The nervous strain was also telling, but that could not be helped; he must keep the craft before the sea or go down with her. There was one consolation--she was travelling at a furious speed.

At length, morning broke over a leaden sea that was seamed with white; and he glanced longing at the meat-can on the locker near his feet. He could reach it by stooping, though he dare not leave the helm, but he determined to wait until noon before he broke his fast again. It could not be very far to Comox, but the wind might drop. Then he began to wonder how he had escaped the perils of the night. He had come down what was really a wide and not quite straight sound pa.s.sing several unlighted islands. Before starting, he had decided that he would run so long and then change his course a point or two, but he could not be sure that he had done so. He had a hazy recollection of seeing surf, and once a faint loom of land, but he supposed he had avoided it half-consciously or that chance had favoured him.

In the afternoon, the wind changed a little, backing to the north-west; the sky grew brighter, and he made out shadowy land over his starboard quarter. By and by he recognised it with a start. It was the high ridge north of Comox, and as he had run farther than he had expected, he must try to hoist the peak of the mainsail and haul her on the wind. There was danger in rounding her up, but it must be faced, though a sea foamed across her as he put down his helm. Another followed, but he scrambled forward and struggled desperately to hoist the downhanging gaff. The halliards were swollen; he could scarcely keep his footing on the deluged deck that slanted steeply under him. He thought he could have mastered the banging canvas had he been fresh; but, worn out as he was, drenched with spray, and buffeted by the shattered tops of the seas, the task was beyond his power. Giving it up, he staggered back, breathless and almost nerveless, to the helm.

He could not reach Comox, which lay to windward, with the sail half-set, but it was only seventy miles or thereabouts to Nanaimo and not very much farther to Vancouver. The breeze would be fair to either, and he could charter a launch or tug for the return journey. Letting her go before the sea again, he ate some canned meat ravenously, tearing it with one hand.

Shortly afterwards, a grey ma.s.s rose out of the water to port and he supposed it was Texada. There were mines on the island, and he might be able to engage a rescue party; but he reflected that he could not beat the sloop back to windward unless the breeze fell, which it showed no signs of doing. It would be more prudent to go on to Vancouver, where he would be sure of getting a steamer, but he closed with the long island a little, and dusk was falling when he made out a boat in the partial shelter of a bight. Standing in closer, he saw that there were two men in the craft, and driving down upon her he backed the jib and ran alongside.

There was a crash as he struck the boat, and an astonished and angry man clutched the sloop's rail.

"Now what in the name of thunder?" he began, and stopped, struck by Carroll's ragged appearance.

"Can you take this sloop to Vancouver?" the latter inquired.

"I could if it was worth while," was the cautious answer. "It will be a mighty wet run."

"Seven dollars a day, until you're home again," said Carroll. "A bonus if you can sail her with the whole reefed mainsail up--I won't stick at a few dollars. Can your partner pull that boat ash.o.r.e alone? If not, cast her adrift, I'll buy her."

"He'll make the beach," said the other, jumping on board. "Seven dollars sounds a square deal. I won't put the screw on you."

"Then help me hoist the peak," Carroll bade him. "After that, you can take the helm; I'm played out."

The man, who shouted something to his companion, seized the halliards; and the sloop drove on again furiously; with an increased spread of canvas, while Carroll stood holding on by the coaming while the boat dropped back.

"I'll leave you to it," he informed the new helmsman. "It's twenty-four hours since I've had more than a bite or two of food, and some weeks since I had a decent meal."

"You look like it," the other informed him. "Been up against it somewhere?"

Carroll, who did not reply, crawled below and managed to light the stove and make a kettleful of tea. He drank a good deal of it, and nearly emptied the remaining small meat-can, which he presently held out for his companion's inspection, standing beneath the hatch.

"There's some tea left, but this is all there is to eat on board the craft," he said. "You're hired to take her to Vancouver--and you'd better get there as soon as you can."

The bronzed helmsman nodded. "She won't be long on the way if the mast holds up."

"Have you seen any papers lately?" Carroll inquired. "I've been up in the bush and I'm interested in the Clermont mine. It looked as if there might be some changes in the company's prospects when I went away."

"I noticed a bit about it in the Colonist a while back," was the answer.

"They sold out to another concern, or amalgamated with it; I don't remember which."

Carroll was not astonished. The news, which implied that he must be prepared to face a more or less serious financial reverse struck him as a fitting climax to his misadventures.

"It's pretty much what I expected, and I'm going to sleep," he said. "I don't want to be wakened before it's necessary."

He crawled below, and he had hardly stretched himself out upon the locker before his eyes closed. When he opened them, feeling more like his usual self, he saw that the sun was above the horizon, and recognised by the boat's motion that the wind had fallen. Going out, he found her driving through the water under her whole mainsail and the helmsman sitting stolidly at the tiller. The man stretched out a hand and pointed to the hazy hills to port.

"We'll fetch the Narrows some time before noon," he said. "If you'll take the helm, I guess we'll halve that meat for breakfast."

His prediction proved correct, for Carroll reached his hotel about midday, and hastily changing his clothes, set off to call on Nairn. He had not recovered his mental equipoise, and in spite of his long, sound sleep, he was still badly jaded physically. On arriving at the house, he was shown into a room where Mrs. Nairn and her husband were sitting with Evelyn, waiting for the midday meal. The elder lady rose with a start of astonishment when he walked in.

"Man," she said, "what's wrong? Ye're looking like a ghost."

It was not an inapt description. Carroll's face was worn and haggard, and his clothes hung slack on him.

"I've been feeling rather unsubstantial of late, as the result of a restricted diet," he answered with a smile, and sat down in the nearest chair, while Nairn regarded him with carefully suppressed curiosity.

"Ye're ower lang in coming," he remarked. "Where did ye leave your partner?"

Carroll sat silent a moment or two, his eyes fixed on Evelyn. It was evident that his sudden appearance unaccompanied by Vane, which he felt had been undesirably dramatic, had alarmed her. At first he felt compa.s.sionate, and then he was suddenly possessed by hot indignation.

This girl, with her narrow prudish notions and cold-blooded nature, had presumed to condemn his comrade, unheard, for an imaginary offence. The thing was at once ludicrous and intolerable; if his news brought her dismay, let her suffer. His nerves, it must be remembered, were not in their normal condition.

"Yes," he said, in answer to his host's first remark; "I've gathered that we have failed to save the situation. But I don't know exactly what has happened; you had better tell me."

Mrs. Nairn made a sign of protest, but her husband glanced at her restrainingly.