第70章 CHAPTER XXVIII(1)

WHAT remains to be told will not take long. Hardships naturally increased as the means of bearing them diminished.

I have said the salmon held out for many days. We cut it in strips, and dried it as well as we could; but the flies and maggots robbed us of a large portion of it. At length we were reduced to two small hams; nothing else except a little tea. Guessing the distance we had yet to go, and taking into account our slow rate of travelling, I calculated the number of days which, with the greatest economy, these could be made to last. Allowing only one meal a day, and that of the scantiest, I scored the hams as a cook scores a leg of roast pork, determined under no circumstances to exceed the daily ration.

No little discipline was requisite to adhere to this resolution. Samson broke down under the exposure and privation; superadded dysentery rendered him all but helpless, and even affected his mind. The whole labour of the camp then devolved on me. I never roused him in the morning till the mules were packed - with all but his blanket and the pannikin for his tea - and until I had saddled his horse for him. Not till we halted at night did we get our ration of ham. This he ate, or rather bolted, raw, like a wild beast. My share I never touched till after I lay down to sleep. And so tired have I been, that once or twice I woke in the morning with my hand at my mouth, the unswallowed morsel between my teeth. For three weeks we went on in this way, never exchanging a word. I cannot say how I might have behaved had Fred been in Samson's place. I hope I should have been at least humane. But I was labouring for my life, and was not over tender-hearted.

Certainly there was enough to try the patience of a better man. Take an instance. Unable one morning to find my own horse, I saddled his and started him off, so as not to waste time, with his spare animal and the three mules. It so happened that our line of march was rather tortuous, owing to some hills we had to round. Still, as there were high mountains in the distance which we were making for, it seemed impossible that anyone could miss his way. It was twenty minutes, perhaps, before I found my horse; this would give him about a mile or more start of me. I hurried on, but failed to overtake him. At the end of an hour I rode to the top of a hill which commanded a view of the course he should have taken. Not a moving speck was to be seen. I knew then that he had gone astray. But in which direction?

My heart sank within me. The provisions and blankets were with him. I do not think that at any point of my journey I had ever felt fear - panic that is - till now. Starvation stared me in the face. My wits refused to suggest a line of action. I was stunned. I felt then what I have often felt since, what I still feel, that it is possible to wrestle successfully with every difficulty that man has overcome, but not with that supreme difficulty - man's stupidity. It did not then occur to me to give a name to the impatience that seeks to gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles.

I turned back, retraced my steps till I came to the track of the mules. Luckily the ground retained the footprints, though sometimes these would be lost for a hundred yards or so. Just as I anticipated - Samson had wound round the base of the very first hill he came to; then, instead of correcting the deviation, and steering for the mountains, had simply followed his nose, and was now travelling due east, - in other words, was going back over our track of the day before. It was past noon when I overtook him, so that a precious day's labour was lost.

I said little, but that little was a sentence of death.

'After to-day,' I began, 'we will travel separately.'

At first he seemed hardly to take in my meaning. I explained it.

'As well as I can make out, before we get to the Dalles, where we ought to find the American outposts, we have only about 150 miles to go. This should not take more than eight or nine days. I can do it in a week alone, but not with you.