Chapter 3: The Hot Spring

Bending low, they ran again swiftly forward toward the south. A great cry rose behind them, the whoop of the warriors, a yell of rage and disappointment. A dozen shots were fired, but the bullets either flew over their heads or dropped short. The five did not take the trouble to reply. Confidence had returned to them with amazing quickness, and the most confident and joyous of all was Tom Ross.

“I had the big medicine that time,” he exclaimed exultantly. “It’s lucky I found the silver sixpence in my pocket, or that hound would have had the savages trailing us forever.”

Henry was cooler now, but he did not argue with him about it. In fact, none of them ever did. Both he and Sol were now noting the heavens which had become more overcast. The clouds spread from the horizon to the zenith. Not a ray of sunlight showed. The wind was dropping, but far into the southwest the earth sighed.

“It’s the rain,” said Henry. “Let it come. It and all this blackness will help our escape.”

Low thunder muttered along the western horizon. There were three or four flashes of lightning but when the rain came presently with a sweep, both thunder and lightning ceased, and they ran on clothed in a mantle of darkness.

“Let’s stay close together,” said Henry, “and after awhile we’ll turn to the east and bear back toward the village. Nobody on earth can trail us in all this gloom, with the rain, too, washing out every trace of our footsteps.”

Henry’s judgment was good. Now that the hound was gone they shook off the savages with ease. The rain was coming down in a steady pour, and, as the twilight also was at hand, they were invisible to anyone fifty yards away. Hence their speed dropped to a walk, and, in accordance with their plan, they turned to the right. They walked on through dark woods, and came to a smoother country, troubled little by rocks and underbrush. The night was fully come, and the rain, that was still pouring out of a black sky, was cold. They had paid no attention to it before except for its concealment, but, as their figures relaxed after long effort, chill struck into the bone. They had kept their rifles dry with their hunting shirts, but now they took their blankets from the packs and wrapped them about their shoulders. The blankets did not bring them warmth. Their soaked clothing chilled them more and more.

They had become inured long since to all kinds of hardships, but one cannot stand everything. Now and then a spurt of hail came with the rain, and it beat in their faces, slipped between the blankets and down their necks, making them shiver. Their weariness after so much exertion made them all susceptible to the rain and cold. Finally Henry called a halt.

“We must find shelter somewhere,” he said. “If we don’t, we’ll be so stiff in the morning we can’t walk, and we’ll be lucky to escape chills and pneumonia, or something of that kind.”

“That’s right,” said Shif’less Sol. “So we’ll jest go into the inn, which ain’t more’n a hundred yards further on, git dry clothing, eat a big supper, have a steaming hot drink apiece of something strong an’ then crawl in on feather beds with warm dry blankets over us. Oh, I’ll sleep good an’ long! Don’t you worry about that!”

“Solomon Hyde,” said Long Jim Hart indignantly, “ef you don’t stop talkin’ that way I’ll hit you over the head with the barrel uv my rifle. I’m cold enough an’ wet enough already without you conjurin’ up happy dreams an’ things that ain’t. Them contrasts make me miserabler than ever, an’ I’m likely to get wickeder too. I give you fair warning’.”

“All right,” replied Shif’less Sol resignedly. “I wuz jest tryin’ to cheer you up, Jim, but a good man never gits any reward in this world, jest kicks. How I wish that rain would stop! I never knowed such a cold rain afore at this time o’ the year.”

“We must certainly find some sort of shelter,” Henry repeated.

They searched for a long time, hoping for an alcove among the rocks or perhaps a thick cluster of trees, but they found nothing. Several hours passed. The rain grew lighter, and ceased, although the clouds remained, hiding the moon. But the whole forest was soaked. Water dripped from every twig and leaf, and the five steadily grew colder and more miserable. It was nearly midnight when Henry spied the gleam of water among the tree trunks.

“Another spring,” he said. “What a delightful thing to see more water. I’ve been fairly longing for something wet.”

“Yes, and the spring has been rained on so much that the steam is rising from it,” said Paul.

“That’s so,” said Jim Hart. “Shore ez you live thar’s a mist like a smoke.”

But Henry looked more closely and his tone was joyous as he spoke.

“Boys,” he said, “I believe we’re in luck, great luck. I think that’s a hot spring.”

“So do I,” said Shif’less Sol in the same joyous tone, “an’ ef it is a hot spring, an’ it ain’t too almighty hot, why, we’ll all take pleasant hot baths in it, go to bed an’ sleep same ez ef we wuz really on them feather beds in that inn that ain’t.”

Sol approached and put his hand in the water which he found warm, but not too hot.

“It’s all that we hoped, boys,” he exclaimed joyfully. “So I’m goin’ to enjoy these baths of Lucully right away. After my bath I’ll wrap myself in my blanket, an’ ez the rain hez stopped I’ll hang out my clothes to dry.”

It was really a hot spring of the kind sometimes found in the West. The water from the base of a hill formed a large pool, with a smooth bottom of stone, and then flowed away in a little brook under the trees.

It was, indeed, a great piece of luck that they should find this hot bath at a time when it was so badly needed. The teeth of both Paul and Sol were chattering, and they were the first to throw off their clothes and spring into the pool.

“Come right in and be b’iled,” exclaimed the shiftless one. “Paul has bragged of the baths o’ Caracally but this beats ‘em.”

There were three splashes as the other three hit the water at once. Then they came out, rolled themselves lightly in the warm blankets, and felt the stiffness and soreness, caused by the rain and cold, departing from their bodies. A light wind was blowing, and their clothes, hung on boughs, were beginning already to dry. An extraordinary sense of peace and ease, even of luxury, stole over them all. The contrast with what they had been suffering put them in a physical heaven.

“I didn’t think I could ever be so happy, a-layin’ ‘roun’ in the woods wrapped up in nothin’ but a blanket,” said Shif’less Sol. “I guess the baths o’ Rome that Paul tells about wuz good in their day, which wuz a mighty long time ago, but not needin’ ‘em ez bad ez we did, mebbe, them Roman fellers didn’t enjoy ‘em ez much. What do you say to that, Paul, you champion o’ the ancient times which hev gone forever?”

The only answer was a long regular breathing. Paul had fallen asleep.

“Good boy,” said Shif’less Sol, sympathetically, “I hope he’ll enjoy his nap.”

“Hope the same fur me,” said Long Jim, “‘cause I’m goin’ to foller him in less than two minutes.”

Jim Hart made good his words. Within the prescribed time a snore, not loud nor disagreeable, but gentle and persistent, rose on the night air. One by one the others also fell asleep, all except Henry, who forced himself to keep awake, and who was also pondering the question of Timmendiquas. What were the great chief’s plans? What vast scheme had been evolved from the cunning brain of that master Indian? And how were the five--only five--to defeat it, even should they discover its nature?