Dick realized suddenly that he was very cold. The terrible pursuit was over, ending mortally for the pursuer, but he was menaced by a new danger. Sheltered though his little valley was, he could, nevertheless, freeze to death in it with great ease. In fact, he had begun already to shiver, and he noticed that while his feet were dry, the snow at last had soaked through his deerskin leggings and he was wet from knee to ankle. The snow had ceased, although a white mist hovered2 in a great circle and the chill of the wind was increasing steadily3. He must have a fire or die.
He resumed his search, plunging4 into the snow banks under the cottonwoods and other trees, and at last he brought out dead boughs5, which he broke into short pieces and piled in a heap in the center of the open space. The wood was damp on the outside, of course, but he expected nothing better and was not discouraged. Selecting a large, well-seasoned piece, he carefully cut away all the wet outside with his strong hunting knife. Then he whittled6 off large quantities of dry shavings, put them under the heap of boughs, and took from his inside a pocket a small package of lucifer matches.
Dick struck one of the matches across the heel of his shoe. No spark leaped up. Instead, his heart sank down, sank further, perhaps, than it had ever done before in his life. The match was wet. He took another from the pocket; it, too, was wet, and the next and the next and all. The damp from the snow, melted by the heat of his body, had penetrated7 his buckskin coat, although in the excitement of pursuit and combat he had not noticed it.
Dick was in despair. He turned to the snow a face no less white. Had he escaped all the dangers of the Sioux for this? To freeze to death merely because he did not have a dry lucifer match? The wind was still rising and it cut to his very marrow8. Reality and imagination were allied9, and Dick was almost overpowered. He angrily thrust the wet little package of matches back into the inside pocket of his coat—his border training in economy had become so strong that even in the moment of despair he would throw away nothing—and his hand in the pocket came into contact with something else, small, hard, and polished. Dick instantly felt a violent revulsion from despair to hope.
The small object was a sunglass. That wagon10 train was well equipped. Dick had made salvage11 of two sunglasses, and in a moment of forethought had given one to Albert, keeping the other for himself, each agreeing then and there to carry his always for the moment of need that might come.
Dick drew out the sunglass and fingered it as one would a diamond of great size. Then he looked up. A brilliant sun was shining beyond white, misty12 clouds, but its rays came through them dim and weak. The mists or, rather, cloudy vapor13 might lift or thin, and in that chance lay the result of his fight for life. While he waited a little, he stamped up and down violently, and threw his arms about with energy. It did not have much effect. The wet, cold, the raw kind that goes through, was in him and, despite all the power of his will, he shivered almost continually. But he persisted for a half hour and then became conscious of an increasing brightness about him. The white mist was not gone, but it was thinning greatly, and the rays of the sun fell on the snow brilliant and strong.
Dick took the dry stick again and scraped off particles of wood so fine that they were almost a power. He did not stop until he had a little heap more than an inch high. Meanwhile, the sun's rays, pouring through the whitish mist, continued to grow fuller and stronger.
Dick carefully polished the glass and held it at the right angle between the touchwood, that is, the scrapings, and the sun. The rays passing through the glass increased many times in power and struck directly upon the touchwood. Dick crouched14 over the wood in order to protect it from the wind, and watched, his breath constricted15, while his life waited on the chance.
A minute, two minutes, three minutes, five passed and then a spark appeared in the touchwood, and following it came a tiny flame. Dick shouted with joy and shifted his body a little to put shavings on the touchwood. An ill wind struck the feeble blaze, which was not yet strong enough to stand fanning into greater life, and it went out, leaving a little black ash to mark where the touchwood had been.
Dick's nerves were so much overwrought that he cried aloud again, and now it was a cry of despair, not of joy. He looked at the little black ash as if his last chance were gone, but his despair did not last long. He seized the dry stick again and scraped off another little pile of touchwood. Once more the sunglass and once more the dreadful waiting, now longer than five minutes and nearer ten, while Dick waited in terrible fear, lest the sun itself should fail him, and go behind impenetrable clouds.
But the second spark came and after it, as before, followed the little flame. No turning aside now to allow a cruel chance to an ill wind. Instead, he bent16 down his body more closely than ever to protect the vital blaze, and, reaching out one cautious arm, fed it first with the smallest of the splinters, and then with the larger in an ascending17 scale.
Up leaped the flames, red and strong. Dick's body could not wholly protect them now, but they fought for themselves. When the wind shrieked18 and whipped against them, they waved back defiance19, and the more the wind whipped them, the higher and stronger they grew.
The victory was with the flames, and Dick fed them with wood, almost with his body and soul, and all the time as the wind bent them over they crackled and ate deeper and deeper into the wood. He could put on damp wood now. The flames merely leaped out, licked up the melted snow with a hiss20 and a sputter21, and developed the stick in a mass of glowing red.
Dick fed his fire a full half hour, hunting continually in the snow under the trees for brushwood and finding much of it, enough to start a second fire at the far end of the sheltered place, with more left in reserve. He spent another half hour heaping up the snow as a bulwark22 about his den1, and then sat down between the two fires to dry and warm, almost to roast himself.
It was the first time that Dick understood how much pleasure could be drawn23 from a fire alone. What beautiful red and yellow flames! What magnificent glowing coals! What a glorious thing to be there, while the wind above was howling over the snowy and forlorn plain! His clothes dried rapidly. He no longer shivered. The grateful warmth penetrated every fiber24 of him and it seemed strange now that he should have been in despair only an hour ago. Life was a wonderful and brilliant thing. There was no ache in his bones, and the first tingling25 of his hands, ears, and nose he had relieved with the application of wet snow. Now he felt only comfort.
After a while Dick ate again of his jerked buffalo26 meat, and with the food, warmth, and rest, he began to feel sleepy. He plunged27 into the snow, hunted out more wood to add to his reserve, and then, with the two blankets, the Indian's and his own, wrapped about him, sat down where the heat of the two fires could reach him from either side, and with a heap of the wood as a rest for his back.
Dick did not really intend to go to sleep, but he had been through great labors28 and dangers and had been awake long. He drew up one of the blankets until it covered all of his head and most of his face, and began to gaze into the coals of the larger fire. The wind—and it was now so cold that the surface of the snow was freezing—still whistled over him, but the blanket protected his head from its touch. The whistle instead increased his comfort like the patter of rain on a roof to him who is dry inside.
The fire had now burned down considerable and the beds of coals were large and beautiful. They enveloped29 Dick in their warmth and cheer and began to pain splendid words of hope for him. He could read what they said in glowing letters, but the singular feeling of peace and rest deepened all the while. He wondered vaguely30 that one could be so happy.
The white snow became less white, the red fire less red, and a great gray mist came floating down over Dick's eyes. Up rose a shadowy world in which all things were vague and wavering. Then the tired lids dropped down, the gray mist gave way to a soft blackness, and Dick sank peacefully into the valley of sleep.
The boy slept heavily hour after hour, with his hooded31 head sunk upon his knees, and his rifle lying across his lap, while over him shrieked the coldest wind of the great northwestern plains. The surface of the frozen ground presented a gleaming sheet like ice, over which the wind acquired new strength and a sharper edge, but the boy in his alcove32 remained safe and warm. Now and then a drift of fine snowy particles that would have stung like small shot was blown over the barrier, but they only stuck upon the thick folds of the blankets and the boy slept on. The white mist dissolved. The sun poured down beams brilliantly cold and hard, and over them was the loom33 of the mountains, but the boy knew nothing of them, nor cared.
The fires ceased to flame and became great masses of glowing coals that would endure long. The alcove was filled with the grateful warmth, and when the sun was in the zenith, Dick still slept, drawing long, regular breaths from a deep strong chest. The afternoon grew and waned34, twilight35 came over the desolate36 snow fields, the loom of the mountains was gone, and the twilight gave way to an icy night.
When Dick awoke it was quite dark, save for the heaps of coals which still glowed and threw out warmth. He felt at first a little wonderment that he had slept so long, but he was not alarmed. His forethought and energy had provided plenty of wood and he threw on fresh billets. Once more the flames leaped up to brighten and to cheer, and Dick, walking to the edge of his snow bank, looked over. The wind had piled up the snow there somewhat higher before the surface froze, and across the barrier he gazed upon some such scene as one might behold37 near the North Pole. He seemed to be looking over ice fields that stretched away to infinity38, and the wind certainly had a voice that was a compound of chill and desolation.
It was so solemn and weird39 that Dick was glad to duck down again into his den, and resume the seat where he had slept so long. He ate a little and then tried to slumber40 again, but he had already slept so much that he remained wide awake. He opened his eyes and let them stay open, after several vain efforts.
The moonlight now came out with uncommon41 brilliancy and the plain glittered. But it was the coldest moon that Dick had ever seen. He began to feel desolate and lonely again, and, since he could not sleep, he longed for something to do. Then the knowledge came to him. He put on fresh wood, and between firelight and moonlight he could see everything clearly.
Satisfied with his light, Dick took from his pocket the History of the United States that was accompanying him so strangely in his adventures, and began to study it. He looked once more at the map of the Rocky Mountain territories, and judged that he was in Southern Montana. Although his curiosity as to the exact spot in which he lay haunted him, there was no way to tell, and turning the leaves away from the map, he began to read.
It was chance, perhaps, that made him open at the story that never grows old to American youth—Valley Forge. It was not a great history, it had no brilliant and vivid style, but the simple facts were enough for Dick. He read once more of the last hope of the great man, never greater than then, praying in the snow, and his own soul leaped at the sting of example. He was only a boy, obscure, unknown, and the fate of but two rested with him, yet he, too, would persevere42, and in the end his triumph also would be complete. He read no further, but closed the book and returned it carefully to his pocket. Then he stared into the fire, which he built up higher that the cheerful light might shine before him.
Dick did not hide from himself even now the dangers of his position. He was warm and sheltered for the present, he had enough of the jerked buffalo to last several days, but sooner or later he must leave his den and invade the snowy plain with its top crust of ice. This snow might last two or three weeks or a month. It was true that spring had come, but it was equally true, as so often happens in the great Northwest, that spring had refused to stay.
Dick tried now to see the mountains. The night was full of brilliant moonlight, but the horizon was too limited; it ended everywhere, a black wall against the snow, and still speculating and pondering, Dick at last fell asleep again.
When the boy awoke it was another clear, cold day, with the wind still blowing, and there in the northwest he joyously43 saw the white line of the mountains. He believed that he could recognize the shape of certain peaks and ridges44, and he fixed45 on a spot in the blue sky which he was sure overhung Castle Howard.
Dick saw now that he had been going away from the mountains. He was certainly farther than he had been when he first met the Sioux, and it was probable that he had been wandering then in an irregular course, with its general drift toward the southwest. The mountains in the thin, high air looked near, but his experience of the West told him that they were far, forty miles perhaps, and the tramp that lay before him was a mighty46 undertaking47. He prepared for it at once.
He cut a stout48 stick that would serve as a cane49, looked carefully to the security of his precious sun glass, and bidding his little den, which already had begun to wear some of the aspects of a home, a regretful farewell, started through the deep snow.
He had wrapped his head in the Indian's blanket, covering everything but eyes, nose, and mouth, and he did not suffer greatly from the bitter wind. But it was weary work breaking the way through the snow, rendered all the more difficult by the icy crust on top. The snow rose to his waist and he broke it at first with his body, but by and by he used the stick, and thus he plodded50 on, not making much more than a mile an hour.
Dick longed now for the shelter of the warm den. The cold wind, despite the protection of the blanket, began to seek out the crannies in it and sting his face. He knew that he was wet again from ankle to knee, but he struggled resolutely51 on, alike for the sake of keeping warm and for the sake of shortening the distance. Yet there were other difficulties than those of the snow. The ground became rough. Now and then he would go suddenly through the treacherous52 snow into an old buffalo wallow or a deep gully, and no agility53 could keep him from falling on his face or side. This not only made him weary and sore, but it was a great trial to his temper also, and the climax54 came when he went through the snow into a prairie brook55 and came out with his shoes full of water.
Dick shivered, stamped his feet violently, and went on painfully breaking his way through the snow. He began to have that dull stupor56 of mind and body again. He could see nothing on the surface of the white plain save himself. The world was entirely57 desolate. But if the Sioux were coming a second time he did not care. He was amused at the thought of the Sioux coming. There were hidden away somewhere in some snug58 valley, and were too sensible to venture upon the plain.
Late in the afternoon the wind became so fierce, and Dick was so tired, that he dug a hole in the deepest snow bank he could find, wrapped the blankets tightly around him, and crouched there for warmth and shelter. Then, when the muscles were at rest, he began to feel the cold all through his wet feet and legs. He took off his shoes and leggings inside the shelter of his blankets, and chafed59 feet and legs with vigorous hands. This restored warmth and circulation, but he was compelled after a while to put on his wet garments again. He had gained a rest, however, and as he did not fear the damp so much while he was moving, he resumed the painful march.
The mountains seemed as far away as ever, but Dick knew that he had come five or six miles. He could look back and see his own path through the deep snow, winding60 and zigzagging61 toward the northwest. It would wind and zigzag62 no matter how hard he tried to go in a straight line, and finally he refused to look back any more at the disclosure of his weakness.
He sought more trees before the sun went down, as his glass could no longer be of use without them, but found none. There could be no fire for him that night, and digging another deep hole in the snow he slept the darkness through, nevertheless, warmly and comfortably, like an Eskimo in his ice hut. He did not suffer as much as he had thought he would from his wet shoes and leggings, and in the night, wrapped within the blankets they dried on him.
Dick spent the second day in alternate tramps of an hour and rests of half an hour. He was conscious that he was growing weaker from this prodigious63 exertion64, but he was not willing to acknowledge it. In the afternoon he came upon a grove65 of cottonwoods and some undergrowth and he tried to kindle66 a fire, but the sun was not strong enough for his glass, and, after an hour's wasted effort, he gave it up, discouraged greatly. Before night the wind, which had been from the northwest, shifted to the southwest and became much warmer. By and by it snowed again heavily and Dick, who could no longer see his mountains, being afraid that he would wander in the wrong direction, dug another burrow67 and went to sleep.
He was awakened68 by the patter of something warm upon his face, and found that the day and rain had come together. Dick once more was struck to the heart with dismay. How could he stand this and the snow together? The plain would now run rivers of water and he must trudge69 through a terrible mire70, worse even than the snow.
He imagined that he could see his mountains through the rain sheets, and he resumed his march, making no effort now to keep anything but his rifle and ammunition71 dry. He crossed more than one brook, either permanent or made by the rain and melting snow, and sloshed though the water, ankle deep, but paid no attention to it. He walked with intervals72 of rest all through the day and the night, and the warm rain never ceased. The snow melted at a prodigious rate, and Dick thought several times in the night that he heard the sound of plunging waters. These must be cataracts73 from the snow and rain, and he was convinced that he was near the mountains.
The day came again, the rain ceased, the sun sprang out, the warm winds blew, and there were the mountains. Perhaps the snow had not been so heavy on them as on the plain, but most of it was gone from the peaks and slopes and they stood up, sheltering and beautiful, with a shade of green that the snow had not been able to take away.
The sight put fresh courage in Dick's heart, but he was very weak. He staggered as he plowed74 through the mixed snow and mud, and plains and mountains alike were rocking about in a most uncertain fashion.
In a ravine at the foot of the mountains he saw a herd75 of about twenty buffaloes76 which had probably taken refuge there from the snowstorm, but he did not molest77 them. Instead, he shook his rifle at them and called out:
"I'm too glad to escape with my own life to take any of yours."
Dick's brain was in a feverish78 state and he was not wholly responsible for what he said or did, but he began the ascent79 with a fairly good supply of strength and toiled80 on all the day. He never knew where he slept that night, but he thinks it was in a clump81 of pines, and the next morning when he continued, he felt that he had made a wonderful improvement. His feet were light and so was his head, but he had never before seen slopes and peaks and pines and ash doing a daylight dance. They whirled about in the most eccentric manner, yet it was all exhilarating, in thorough accord with his own spirits, and Dick laughed aloud with glee. What a merry, funny world it was! Feet and head both grew lighter82. He shouted aloud and began to sing. Then he felt so strong and exuberant83 that he ran down one of the slopes, waving his cap. An elk84 sprang out of a pine thicket85, stared a moment or two with startled eyes at the boy, and then dashed away over the mountain.
Dick continued to sing, and waved his fur cap at the fleeing elk. It was the funniest thing he had ever seen in his life. The whirling dance of mountain and forest became bewildering in its speed and violence. He was unable to keep his feet, and plunged forward into the arms of his brother, Albert. Then everything sank away from him.
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1
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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3
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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4
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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5
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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6
whittled
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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salvage
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| v.救助，营救，援救；n.救助，营救 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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constricted
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| adj.抑制的，约束的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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sputter
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| n.喷溅声；v.喷溅 | |
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bulwark
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| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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fiber
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| n.纤维，纤维质 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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28
labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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waned
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| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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40
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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41
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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42
persevere
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| v.坚持，坚忍，不屈不挠 | |
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43
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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44
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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45
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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46
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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47
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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49
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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50
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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51
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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52
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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53
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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zigzagging
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| v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的现在分词 )；盘陀 | |
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zigzag
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| n.曲折，之字形；adj.曲折的，锯齿形的；adv.曲折地，成锯齿形地；vt.使曲折；vi.曲折前行 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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burrow
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| vt.挖掘(洞穴)；钻进；vi.挖洞；翻寻；n.地洞 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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trudge
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| v.步履艰难地走；n.跋涉，费力艰难的步行 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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73
cataracts
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| n.大瀑布( cataract的名词复数 )；白内障 | |
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plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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75
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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buffaloes
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| n.水牛（分非洲水牛和亚洲水牛两种）( buffalo的名词复数 )；（南非或北美的）野牛；威胁；恐吓 | |
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molest
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| vt.骚扰，干扰，调戏 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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81
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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82
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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83
exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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84
elk
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| n.麋鹿 | |
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85
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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