never in her life had helen yardely worked so hard as she worked in the next two hours. she made two journeys to the lake with their possessions, and on the way back the second time she arranged several resting places in preparation for the hardest task of all—the carrying of her injured companion down to the shore.
that, as she knew, was bound to be a terribly painful thing for him, but there was no other way, and harsh necessity made her ruthless. she did what she could with an improvised sling, and helped him to stand on his uninjured leg. the pain he endured was shown in his white face, and in the bitten under lip, which trickled red. she was afraid that he was about to faint, but he recovered himself and three-quarters of a minute later, she was carrying him pick-a-back to the lakeside.
twice she heard a groan torn from him, but she set her teeth, and pointed on to the first resting place, where, as gently as she could, she set him on the trunk of a fallen tree which, supported by its under branches, lay waist high. then she turned round and looked at stane. he was in a state verging on collapse. instantly she felt for his service water-bottle which she had previously filled with brandy and water, and pouring out some of the liquid she held it towards him.
"drink," she said, "all of it."
he did so, and when they had rested five minutes, they started again and, after halting twice more, reached the shore, where she set him down on a convenient rock, below which she had piled blankets to support his injured leg. then for the moment quite overdone, she collapsed on the sand, one hand on her jumping heart, the other on her throbbing head. it was a little time before either of them could speak, and it was the man who did so first.
"miss yardely, take a little brandy. i implore you!"
helen looked up, nodded without speaking, and with shaking hands poured out a little of the spirit for herself. after a time her breath came back, and she rose to her feet.
"you are mortal heavy," she said with an attempt at gaiety. "you were like the old man of the sea on my back.... i hope your leg is all right?"
"painful! but that is to be expected, and it can't be helped." a drift of smoke came down in the wind and made him cough, and he looked round to mark the progress of the fire. "we haven't much of a margin, miss yardely."
"no," she answered, "i must get busy. now tell me what to do!"
whilst waiting for her to recover he had noted numerous sun-dried poles scattered about the beach, and those he pointed to.
"get about seven of those, miss yardely, as near equal length as you can. gather them as close to the water's edge as possible, and then get some saplings for cross pieces. lash the poles well together with the tent and pack-ropes, and put a little spruce on the top to help us keep dry. we haven't time to build a noah's ark, and it will be no end of a job for you to get the thing afloat by yourself."
the girl looked round and pointed to a little creek where the water was very still.
"i could build it afloat there. there's a gravelly bottom and it's not deep."
"yes!" he said quickly. "that would be better!"
for an hour he sat there watching her work, and marking the swift progress of the fire. the heat grew tremendous, the roar of the flames and of crackling trees filled the air to the exclusion of all other sounds, and the pungent smoke made it difficult to breathe. he had begun to think that after all her endeavours had been in vain, when she approached him, sweat running down her flushed face, and drenched well above the knees.
"you will have to set your teeth," she said, "i shall have to carry you out to the raft."
it was no easy task to get him on to it, but she had pushed the raft well in the reeds so that it could not give, and though it was a painful operation for him, he was presently lying on a pile made of the tent canvas and blankets. ten minutes later when he opened his eyes, they were afloat, and she was poling the raft into deeper water. she looked at him as his eyes opened.
"this raft is not quite so good as a punt—but it might be worse!"
"they're always awkward things," he said. "you ought to have had a sweep."
"no time," she answered, with a nod towards the shore.
"you will have to pole us out, as far as you can, and then we must drift."
"it is the only way," she agreed. "fortunately this lake seems very shallow."
ten minutes later the pole failed to touch bottom, and a current of water setting across the lake began to drift them well from the shore. as he saw that, stane gave a sigh of relief.
"you can sit down and rest now, miss yardely. there is nothing further to be done for the present. it is a case of time and tide now, but i think we are perfectly safe."
helen glanced towards the shore, and gave an involuntary shudder. the fire was running through the forest like a wild beast. clouds of smoke, black or leaden-coloured rolled in front, the vanguard of the destroyer, and out of them leaped spouts of fiery sparks, or long tongues of yellow flame, and behind this, the forest under the fan of the wind was a glowing furnace. she looked at the belching smoke and the rocketing flames and listened to the roar of it all, fascinated.
"how terrible," she cried, "and how beautiful."
"the inferno!" said stane. "i've seen it before."
"and you wanted me to leave you to that?" she cried.
"pardon me, no! i did not want you to be caught in it, that is all! listen!"
across the water came what might have been the sound of a fusillade of rifles, and with it mingled another sound as of shrieking.
"what is it?" asked the girl.
"branches bursting in the heat, trees falling."
"how long will it last?"
"don't know. weeks maybe! the fire might travel a hundred miles."
helen shuddered again. "if we had not been near the water——"
"finis!" he said with a little laugh, and they fell silent again watching the awful thing from which they had so narrowly escaped.
the raft drifted slowly along, borne by a current towards the northern end of the lake and crossing it obliquely, and the girl crouched in her place apparently absorbed in the spectacle the fire afforded. an hour passed, and then glancing at her stane saw that she had fallen asleep. a little smile came on his face, and was followed by an ardent look of admiration as he continued to stare at her. she was flushed with sleep, and grimy with sweat and smoke and dirt. the grey shirt-sleeves, rolled up above the elbows, showed her scratched forearms, and on one hand, hanging across her knee in the abandon of sleep, with startling incongruity gleamed a diamond ring. the beautiful chestnut hair had escaped from its fastenings, and hung in tumbled masses, and there were ragged tears here and there in the borrowed raiment. never, thought stane to himself, had he seen a lady more dishevelled or more beautiful, and as he watched her sleeping, worn out with her herculean labours, his heart warmed to her in gratitude and love.
she slept for quite a long time, and when she opened her eyes, she looked round in surprise. the fire still roared on its way through the woods on the distant shore, over which hung a huge pall of smoke, but the raft was now a long way from the zone of destruction and drifting slowly but surely towards the northern end of the lake. she measured with her eyes the distance they had drifted, and looked towards the shore which they were steadily approaching, then she spoke.
"i must have slept for a long time."
"three hours, i should say," answered stane with a smile.
"and you? how is your leg?"
"fairly comfortable," he answered.
"i am glad of that, i was terribly afraid that it might have suffered some new injury—how hungry i am!"
"naturally!" was the reply. "it is now past noon and we have not yet had breakfast."
"there is some cold bacon somewhere, left over from yesterday, and that small box of biscuits. i will find them. we must eat. fortunately we're not likely to be short of water." she laughed a little as she spoke, then rising, began to look for the food, which, when she had found it, she divided between them. "there is not much bacon, but there are biscuits galore for present needs," she said as she put the food before him. "fall to, sir!"
she herself ate the simple meal with a relish that surprised herself, and then looked round once more. they had drifted nearer the shore, and looking overside she could see the bottom of the lake. at that she clapped her hands.
"the water is shallowing," she cried, "i believe i can resume my punting."
she took up her pole and finding that she could touch bottom, began to pole the raft inshore, and in twenty minutes she was looking for a place to land. she found it in a quiet little bay beyond a tree-crowned bluff, and in a little time she had beached the clumsy craft, and jumped ashore. she anchored the raft to a tree, and then looked around. just where she had landed, there was a level patch of sward, backed by massive firs and, after considering its possibilities for a moment she spoke:
"we will make our new camp here! it will do as well as anywhere else, and in case the fire travels round we can easily take to the lake again."
her first action was to gather kindling wood for a fire, and to set the kettle over it, and that done, once more she pitched the tent and made a bed for her patient; then with great trouble and some pain for him, she got him from the raft to the spruce couch; after which she examined the rough splints and bandages. they were in place and hoping that the leg had suffered no harm through the enforced removal, she prepared hot tea and such a meal as their resources allowed.
"i shall have to build a new house for myself, tomorrow," she laughed as she sipped the tea. "and i shall insure it against fire. i shall be quite an expert architect and builder by the time i reach civilization."
"if you ever do!" he laughed.
she looked round the wild landscape, then she also laughed.
"i should not care much if i never did. this sort of life has its attractions, and it offers real interests and real excitements. there are worse things than the wilderness."
"you have not been up here in winter, have you, miss yardely?"
"no," she replied, "but i should like to have the experience."
he puffed meditatively at his pipe and made a calculation, then he said rather enigmatically, "you may yet have the chance, miss yardely, if you remain to look after me."
"i certainly shall remain," was the uncompromising reply. "but what do you mean, mr. stane?"
"well," he explained, "it will be some weeks at least before i can face the trail, and that means that autumn will be on us before we can move. and you have had a little experience of what trailing and packing one's goods in this country means. even when we are able to start we shall not be able to travel fast, and the nearest point of civilization is fort malsun."
"how long will it take us to reach the fort?"
"i do not know," he replied, shaking his head thoughtfully. "i have only been there on the one occasion you know of—and then by water. much will depend on the sort of country that lies between here and there, but i am afraid we shall have hard work to make it before winter overtakes us."
"then we shall have to make the best of things," answered the girl lightly.
"there is, of course, the chance that we may be found by some search-party sent out by your uncle; and there is the further possibility that we may stumble on some indian camp; but apart from these contingencies, i am afraid we can expect no help but what we can find in ourselves, and it will be very necessary to husband our resources, as i warned you two days ago."
the girl refused to be daunted. "this is a game country," she replied cheerfully. "we shall not starve. tomorrow i shall go hunting—and you will see, mr. stane, oh, you will see! after all it was not for nothing that i went to scotland every autumn. i will fill the pot, never fear."
he looked at her smiling face, remembered what she had already done, and then spoke enthusiastically.
"i believe you will, miss yardely."
no more was said upon the matter until next day, when whilst she was engaged in building a new tepee for herself she hurried into the camp, and picked up the rifle.
"what is it?" he asked.
"meat," she whispered laughingly, "on four legs and with horns. i don't know the precise name of it, but i think it is a woodland caribou. it has come down to the water just the other side of the bluff. i am going to stalk it."
she hurried away from the camp. ten minutes passed and stane still listened for her shot. then it came, and sharp and clear on the heels of it came a cry of triumph. the injured man smiled with pleasure.
a few minutes later, when helen returned, there was a gleeful look upon her face. "got it!" she cried. "we'll have a change of diet today."
"you have still plenty of work before you," said stane, after congratulating her. "the beast will need skinning and——"
"ugh!" she interrupted with a little grimace. "i know, and that will be messy work for me, since i know nothing at all about it."
"it is an inevitable part of the work in trailing through the wilds," said stane with a smile. "but i wish i could take the work over——"
"you can't," she interrupted cheerfully enough, "and if you could i am not sure i should let you now. i've an ambition to complete my wilderness education, and though i'm no butcher, i'll manage this piece of work somehow. you will have to give me instructions, and though i may botch the business, i'll save the meat. now just give me a lecture in the art of skinning and cleaning and quartering."
as well as he could he gave her instructions, and armed with his long hunting knife, she presently departed. it was two hours before she returned, carrying with her a junk of meat wrapped in a portion of the skin. there was a humiliated look on her face.
"ask me no questions," she cried with a little laugh of vexation. "i am down in the dust, but i've got most of the meat and that is the essential thing, though what we are going to do with all of it i don't know. we can't possibly eat it whilst it is fresh."
"we will dry, and smoke some of it, or turn it into pemmican."
"pemmican!" as she echoed the word, her face brightened. "i have read of that," she laughed, "in novels and tales of adventure. it has a romantic sound."
"it isn't romantic eating," he laughed back. "as you will find if we come down to it. but if the worst comes to the worst it will save us from starvation."
"then we will make pemmican," she said smiling, "or rather i shall. it will be another thing towards the completion of my education, and when this pilgrimage is over i shall demand a certificate from you, and set up as a guide for specially conducted parties to the wilds."
"i think i shall be able to give you one, quite conscientiously," stane retorted laughingly. "you certainly are a very apt pupil."
"ah! you haven't seen that hideous mess on the other side of the bluff. the fact is i shudder at the thought of viewing it again. but we must have the meat, i suppose."
having rested a little, she turned and left the camp again and the man followed her with eyes that glowed with admiration. as he lay there he thought to himself that however she might shudder at the thought of a vilely unpleasant task, she would not shirk it, and as he reflected on the events of the past few days, there was in his heart a surge of feeling that he could not repress. he loved this delicately-nurtured girl who adapted herself to the harsh ways of the wilderness with so gay a spirit; and though a look of bitterness came on his face as he reflected that circumstances must seal his lips, in his heart he was glad that they should have met, and that she should be his pupil in the ways of the wild.
