Bewildered and frightened Jamie looked wildly about him. Then he bethought himself of the compa.s.s in his pocket. Eagerly drawing it forth he held it in his hand and studied its face.

"The Bay's to the suth'ard, whatever," he calculated. "If the Bay's to the suth'ard the brook's to the east'ard. I'll be lettin' the compa.s.s pilot me to the east'ard. 'Twill take me the right direction whatever."

Levelling the compa.s.s carefully in his hand so that the needle swung freely he found the east, and as rapidly as his little legs would carry him set out again in his effort to escape the two sleeping men and to find camp and his friends.

At intervals he stopped to consult his compa.s.s. Then he would hurry forward again as fast as ever he could go through the snow, looking behind him fearfully, half expecting each time to see the men in close pursuit, and always with the dread that a gruff voice in the rear would command him to halt, or that a rifle bullet would be sent after him without warning.

As time pa.s.sed and there was no indication that he was followed, Jamie began to feel some degree of security. Because of the storm it was unlikely that the men would venture upon the Bay. They had kept late hours drinking at the bottle, and unless they were awakened by the cold they would in all probability sleep late and therefore not discover his absence until the thickly falling snow had so far covered his trail as to preclude the possibility of them following it with certainty.

With his mind more or less relieved on this point, Jamie suddenly realized that he was hungry. It was nearing midday. He had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours, and he had the normal appet.i.te of a healthy boy. The snow had perceptibly increased in depth since his escape from the lean-to, and walking was correspondingly hard. He was so hungry and so weary that at length he could scarcely force one foot ahead of the other.

The wind was rising, and in crossing an open frozen marsh the snow drifted before the gale in clouds so dense as to be suffocating. The storm was attaining the proportions of a blizzard, and when Jamie again reached the shelter of the forest beyond the marsh he found it necessary to stop to rest and regain his breath.

"'Twill never do to try to cross another mesh," he decided. "I'm like to be overcome with un and perish before I finds my way out of un to the timber. I'll stick to the woods, and if I can't stick to un I'll have to bide where I is till the snow stops. I wonders now if Doctor Joe and David is out lookin' for me. I'm not thinkin' they'd bide in the tent with me lost out here and they not knowin' where I is."

When he was rested a little he arose, took his direction with the compa.s.s, and floundered on through the snow.

"They's sure out somewhere lookin' for me," he thought, "but 'tis snowin' so hard they never will find me! I'll have to keep goin' till I finds camp. 'Tis strange now I'm not comin' to the brook, 'tis wonderful strange. I'm thinkin' though I were crossin' two meshes with the men in the night, and I've only been crossin' one goin' back to-day. I'm fearin' I'll never be able to cross un though, when I comes to the next un."

Presently, as Jamie had thought would be the case, he came to another marsh. It satisfied him that he was going in the right direction, but at the same time it lay out before him as a well-nigh impa.s.sable barrier. The wind was driving the snow across it in swirling dense clouds, and he stood for a little in the shelter of the trees and viewed it with heavy heart.

"'Tis a bigger mesh than the other," he commented to himself, "but I'll have to try to cross un. I can't bide here. I'll freeze to death with no shelter and I has no axe for makin' a shelter. I'm not knowin'

what to do."

For a little while he hesitated, then he plunged out upon the edge of the marsh. He was nearly swept from his feet, and to recover his breath he was forced to retreat again to the woods. Three times he tried to face the storm-swept marsh, but each time was sent staggering back to shelter. It was a task beyond the strength and endurance of so young a lad, and utterly exhausted and bitterly disappointed, he sat down upon the trunk of a fallen tree to rest.

"I never can make un whilst the nasty weather lasts," he acknowledged.

"I'm fair scrammed and I'll have to wait for the wind to ease before I tries un again."

He could scarce restrain the tears. It was a bitter disappointment. He was so hungry, and so weary, and wished so hard to reach the safety of camp and freedom from the still present danger of being recaptured.

"I'll have plenty o' grit and a stout heart like a man," he presently declared. "I don't mind bein' a bit hungry, and I'll never be givin'

up! I'll never give up whatever! Pop says plenty o' grit'll pull a man out o' most any fix. I'm in a bad fix now, and I'll have grit and won't be gettin' scared. 'Twill never do to be gettin' scared whatever."

Jamie sat quietly upon the log, and presently found himself dozing. He sprang to his feet, for sleeping under these conditions was dangerous.

He tried to walk about, but was so tired that he again returned to the log to rest. It was growing colder, and he shivered. The storm was increasing in fury.

"I'm not knowin' what to do!" he said despairingly. "If I goes on I'll perish and if I keeps still I'll freeze to death and I'm too wearied to move about to keep warm. 'Tis likely the storm'll last the night through whatever, and I'll never be able to stick un out that long."

Jamie again found himself dozing, and again he got upon his feet.

"I'll have to be doin' somethin'," said he. "I'll keep my grit and try to think of somethin' to do or I'll perish."

Jamie was right. He was in peril, and grave peril. Even though the storm-swept marsh had not stood in his way he was quite too weary to walk farther. He was thrown entirely upon his own resources. His life depended upon his own initiative, for he was quite beyond help from others. It was a great unpeopled wilderness in which Jamie was lost, and he was but a wee lad, and even though Doctor Joe and David were looking for him there was scarce a chance that they could find him in the raging storm.

CHAPTER XVIII

A PLACE TO "BIDE"

Dazed and almost hopeless Jamie stood and gazed about him at the thick falling snow. His body and brain were tired, but some immediate action was imperative or he would be overcome by his weariness and the cold.

"If I were only bringin' an axe, I could fix a place to bide in and cut wood for a fire," he said. "If I were only bringin' an axe!"

He thrust his hands deep into his pocket and felt the big, stout jack-knife that Doctor Joe had given him, and he drew it out.

"Maybe now I can fix un with just this," he said hopefully. "I've got to have grit and I've got to try my best whatever."

He looked up and there, within two feet of the log upon which he had been sitting, were two spruce trees about six feet apart.

"Maybe I can fix un right here," he commented, "and maybe I can lay a fire against the log and if I can get un afire she'll burn a long while and keep un warm."

With much effort he cut and trimmed a stiff, strong pole. The lower limbs of the trees were not above four feet from the ground, and upon these he rested his pole, extending it from tree to tree. This was to form the ridge pole to support the roof of his lean-to, for he was to form a shelter similar to that improvised by the two men the evening before.

Then he cut other poles to form the roof, and resting them upon the ridge pole and the ground at a convenient angle to make a commodious s.p.a.ce beneath, he covered them with a thick thatch of boughs, which were easily broken from the overhanging limbs of surrounding trees.

This done he enclosed the ends of his shelter in like manner, and laid beneath it a floor of boughs.

Jamie surveyed his work with satisfaction and hope. No snow could reach the cave-like interior; it was as well protected and as comfortable as ever a lean-to could be made, and a very little fire would warm it. Though much smaller, it was quite as good a shelter as that made by the two men, and possessed the added advantage of closed ends, which would render it much easier to heat. He had occupied more than two hours in its construction, and it had called for ingenuity and much hard work.

The opening of the lean-to faced the fallen tree trunk, which lay before it in such a position that it would serve excellently as a backlog.

Though he had no axe with which to cut firewood, he soon discovered upon scouting about that scattered through the forest were many dried and broken limbs that could be had for the gathering, and in a little while he had acc.u.mulated a sufficient supply to serve for several hours.

This done he pushed away the snow from before the fallen tree trunk as best he could. Using as tinder a handful of the long hairy moss that hung from the inner limbs of the spruce trees, he lighted it with a match from the tin box salvaged the previous day at the big rock.

Placing the burning moss upon the cleared spot next the log he applied small sticks and, as they caught fire, larger ones, until presently a fire was blazing and crackling cheerily in front of his lean-to with the fallen tree as a backlog to reflect the heat.

Utterly weary Jamie stretched himself upon his bed of boughs, and it seemed to him that he had never been in a cosier place in all his life.

"Pop were sayin' right when he says grit will help a man over any tight place," breathed Jamie contentedly. "If I were givin' up I'd sure perished before to-morrow mornin', for 'tis growin' wonderful cold; but I has grit and a stout heart like a man, and I gets a place to bide and a fine warm fire to heat un."

With the first moments of relaxation, Jamie became aware that his wrists were exceedingly painful, and upon examination he discovered that they had been burned much worse than he had realized in his attempts to sever the string that bound them. Large blisters had been raised, and one of the blisters had been broken, doubtless while he was engaged in building his lean-to shelter. The loose skin had been rubbed off, and the angry red wound left unprotected.

"I'll have to fix un," he declared. "The sore places'll be gettin'

rubbed against things, and be a wonderful lot worse and I leaves un bide as they is."

In the course of the first aid instruction, Doctor Joe had taught Jamie, as well as David and Andy, the art of applying bandages, but now Jamie had no bandages to apply. For a little while he helplessly contemplated his wrists. But for the fact that they were becoming exceedingly painful he would have decided to ignore them, for in his wearied condition it was an effort to do anything.

"I knows how I'll fix un," he said at length. "I'll cut pieces from the bottom o' my shirt to bind un up with. They'll keep un from gettin' rubbed whatever, and when I gets back to camp Doctor Joe'll fix un up right."

This he proceeded to do at once with the aid of his jack-knife, and presently had two serviceable bandages ready to apply.

"Doctor Joe were sayin' how to keep the air away from burns by usin'

oil or mola.s.ses or flour or somethin'," he hesitated. "And he were sayin' to keep sores from gettin' dirt into un whatever. He says the sores'll be gettin' inflicted or infested or somethin'--I'm not rememberin' just what 'twere, but somethin' bad whatever--if they gets dirt into un. I've been wearin' the shirt three days, and I'm thinkin'

'tis not as clean as Doctor Joe wants the bindin' for sores to be, and I'll cover the sore place where the blisters were rubbin' off with fir sap. That'll keep un clean. Pop says 'tis fine for sores."