笔下文学
会员中心 我的书架

CHAPTER V.

(快捷键←)[上一章]  [回目录]  [下一章](快捷键→)

for a time poor guy sat upon the ground helpless, and hopeless, listening intently to the rustling movements of the numerous small animals, that wandered about seeking food; fearing to move, lest he should encounter a prairie wolf, or some other ferocious beast, and equally afraid to remain still, lest they should scent him there.

there was but one thing he could do, he felt then, and that was to put his trust in god, and entreat his guidance and protection. so, in the agony of his terror, he prostrated himself upon the ground, and offered up his petitions. the very act of praying comforted him, and when he lifted up his eyes, he was rejoiced to see a few bright stars shining in the sky.

"i think the moon will rise in about an hour," thought guy, looking eagerly around, with a faint hope that she might even then be peering above the horizon; and truly, like a far off flame of fire, she seemed to hang above the prairie grass.

with great joy guy waited for her to rise higher, and throw her glorious light across the wild, but she appeared almost motionless; and in much amazement at the singular phenomenon, he involuntarily walked rapidly toward the cause of his surprise, looking intently at it still. suddenly he paused, and burst into a fit of laughter, exclaiming rapturously; "it is no moon; it is a camp fire! there! i can count one, two, three, of them, they are the fires of our own camp. hurrah!"

in his excitement, he ran eagerly forward, shouting and laughing, but was suddenly tripped by the thick grass and thrown headlong. as he was quite severely hurt, he walked on much more soberly, but still at a brisk pace, towards the steadily brightening fires.

the moon he had so anxiously looked for, gave no indication of her presence in the heavens, and so guy's progress was much retarded for the want of light, for the stars were often overwhelmed by great banks of clouds, and gave but a feeble ray at best.

"it is becoming very cold," thought guy as he shivered in the rising wind, "i fear there is going to be a storm; oh, what will become of me if it finds me here!"

suddenly he paused, thinking for a moment that he heard shouting at a distance, but he listened for a long time, and heard no more, and continued his walk slowly and wearily, quite unable to repress his fast falling tears. he was so very tired, so hungry, and so cold, it was with the utmost difficulty he could force his way through the coarse grass. very often too he was startled by some prowling animal, and thought with horror of all the tales he had read of boys being torn to pieces by wild beasts. he especially remembered one he had read in an old primer, of little harry who was eaten by lions for saying "i won't" to his mother. he was thankful to know, that there were no lions on the prairies, and that he had never said "i won't," to his mother, but he very much feared he had said things just as bad, and that prairie wolves, or even a stray bear, might be lying in wait to devour him for it.

just as he had reached this stage of his reflections, he fancied he heard some animal in pursuit of him. without pausing even for an instant to listen, he set off at full speed toward the still glowing fires, till his precipitate flight was arrested by some obstacle, over which he fell, reaching the ground with a shock that almost stunned him.

as soon as he recovered his senses, he attempted to rise, but to his dismay, found that he could not stand. a sudden twinge of pain in his right ankle prostrated him, as quickly as if he had been shot.

he thought at first that his leg was broken, but after a careful examination, came to the conclusion that his ankle was sprained, but even a broken leg would not have been a greater misfortune then, for he was unable to walk, and was suffering the most excruciating pain.

i think no one can imagine what poor guy suffered, for the rest of that long night. there he lay helpless, in sight of the camp fires, but quite unable to reach them or to give any indications of his whereabouts to his friends. there he lay dying with pain, and hunger, and cold, yet suffering more in mind, than from all of these bodily evils, because he knew that his mother must know of his absence from the camp, and was wildly bemoaning the loss of her only child.

the long wished-for moon at length arose, hours after guy had expected her, but too soon he thought when she made her appearance, for the camp fires grew dim beneath her rays, and he had to strain his aching eyes to see them at all. but he had not long to bemoan her presence, and to say, that she hid the light of home from him, for she soon plunged into a great bank of clouds; a fearful blast of wind swept by, and guy was drenched with rain.

oh, it was terrible, that passing storm! short as it was, it appeared to guy to last for hours, long after it had passed over him, he heard it wildly sweeping on, but as it grew fainter, and fainter, the calmness that came upon the night overpowered him, and he fell into a troubled sleep. it seemed but a short time before he again awoke, yet the grey dawn was struggling in the east, and the little birds were hopping from blade to blade of the wet grass twittering cheerily as if to thank god for the refreshing rain.

poor guy saw all this as if in a dream. he fancied he had been transformed into an icicle, and that some one had built a fire at his head, and was slowly melting him. he had no idea where he was, and talked constantly to his mother, whom he fancied was beside him, entreating her to put out the fire that was consuming him.

suddenly he heard his name called, and realizing his position, and springing to his feet, in spite of his wounded limb, halloed loudly, waving his white handkerchief and signaling frantically to a horseman that appeared in the distance. for a few dreadful moments he was unheard, and unseen, then a shout of joy, answered his screams, and the horseman galloped rapidly toward him, and in a few minutes the poor boy lay fainting, but saved, in the arms of james graham!

先看到这(加入书签) | 推荐本书 | 打开书架 | 返回首页 | 返回书页 | 错误报告 | 返回顶部