Bram Stoker - Bram Stoker - The Complete Novels

“The b’ar! Is he dead?” but catching sight of Esse’s face a gleam of fun lit up his own as he said: “Oh, I remember; you killed him with” — here he seemed to realise that Esse had not come off scot free in the encounter, for in a horrified way he said, raising himself on one elbow, whilst he pointed with the other hand: “Why, Little Missy, you’re wounded. ‘Taint very bad, I hope!”

“No! no, Dick — it’s nothing. He only tore my dress!”

“So I see. The brute! couldn’t he let you alone, anyhow!”

Esse burst out laughing. She had been under such a horrible strain of anxiety and effort that some reaction must come. Dick’s remark, and, moreover, the rueful, angry tone of it, afforded the occasion. There was to her something exquisitely humorous in the idea that they too who had just escaped death — if indeed they had escaped, for their troubles were only beginning — should be only troubled about a torn dress. Dick joined in the laugh, but it was rather through his instinct than from any merriness of heart, for presently his laughter suddenly ceased, and with a groan he fell back. He had not fainted as Esse found when she had flown to his side; it was simply that the pain had overcome him, and after giving him some whiskey from his flask he was somewhat restored. But even in his half swooning state he had been thinking, for he now said:

“Wall, Little Missy, guess ye’ll have to tramp off by yourself, and send down that help to bring me home. You jest pull my knife outer that b’ar an’ find my gun for me if it’s lyin’ anywheres round, an’ put a cup of water by me. Then you jest run off home afore the dark comes on.”

“I’m not going to do anything of the kind! — I’m not going to leave you here alone!”

“Then what in thunder air ye goin’ to do? Air you an’ me to stick here and have a picnic as long as the b’ar meat holds out? No! Little Missy; ye’ll hev to go home, an’ soon, or that prospectin’ party will have to bring on a bran new coffin for this durned leg of mine!”

He winced and almost writhed with pain. In the meantime Esse’s mind was made up and she had commenced action. Pulling from the heart of the grizzly Dick’s bowie knife, though it made her shudder to touch the bloody hilt, she quickly cut several straight sticks and trimmed them roughly. These she placed beside Dick and quietly began to tear the remnant of her dress, the part which she was not wearing, into long strips; she then filled her cup with water and dipped the bandages in it. Dick looked on with silent admiration, for even in the midst of his pain he could admire her swift dexterity; and with a practical man’s instinct, seeing that she was busy with her work, did not distract her, but waited with what patience he could summon. When Esse commenced her efforts to splint the wounded leg Dick helped her, not only with directions, but by shutting his teeth hard and enduring without a groan even her most ignorant efforts. At last the job was done, and Dick spoke again:

“My dear Little Missy, I’m world-wide obliged to ye. Ye saved my life from that old grizzly, and ye’ve doctored me fine! Now, run off home, an’ I’ll be all safe here till ye return.”

“I’m not going to leave you, Dick!” she said decisively. “I’m going to carry you home myself.”

Dick laughed feebly, but this time it wounded the girl to the quick; she blushed up hotly, but cooled at once into a paleness, and her answer came with sudden tears into her eyes:

“You wouldn’t leave me, Dick, if it was I who was hurt — would you, now?”

“Wall, I should smile!” said Dick.

“Then why should I leave you?”

Dick scratched his head; logic and reason failed him as they have failed many a man when arraying them against the strength of a woman’s resolve. Besides, Esse had a very forcible argument on her side; in his helpless condition it was utterly impossible that he should oppose any of her wishes. Accordingly, when Esse bent over to lift him, he gave the best aid in his power by throwing his strong arms round her shoulders, and so placing his weight that she could most easily carry him.

And, strange to say, she did carry him all the way home. It is true that the struggle seemed an endless one, and that over and over again she felt that she could have lain down and died of sheer fatigue. But it was for life and death, and to men and women who have true grit great needs give great endeavour. They bring out all that is royal in their natures, from physical strength to highest nerve and psychic power, so that such strength as Nature has manifested to them can be used to the full. Dick suffered a simple martyrdom; for the constant struggle of the weary girl, and her want of usage in such effort, seemed to thrill through the very marrow of his bones, and made the broken leg a veritable torture. But he was a generous and chivalrous soul, and never once in all the long weary hours that followed their outset for home did he utter a groan. Even when, every now and again, the pain overmastered him to such a degree that he swooned, he did not make any sign, but took his swoon like a gentleman, and sank into it, and awoke from it, without a sign to add to the torture, both mental and physical, which the poor devoted girl, who was struggling on his behalf, endured. Over and over and over again had Esse to set down her burden and rest, her heart panting wildly, and her knees trembling so sorely that she felt that she would be unable even to raise her precious burden again. But each time her spirit rose to the new endeavour, and she attacked the task before her with a fresh energy which surprised herself as much as it did Dick, who helped her loyally to the very best of his power. His heart seemed never to flag or falter, and at times, whilst she sat beside him panting and in almost utter collapse, his ready laugh would ring out to cheer her. She was not even conscious of his swooning, for each time she spoke to him her voice seemed to recall him to waking sense, and he resumed the thread of his own endeavour to cheer her up.

The sun had long set, and the forest paths were dim — like cathedral aisles in the night, when the light through great windows just steals in to show the gloom as an existing thing — when they began to emerge from the depths of the wood and to enter on the steep rise that led to the plateau. Here the moon rose, sailing high in the heavens, and its cheering light gave Esse, now tired almost to unconsciousness, a new lease of strength. With feverish energy she toiled up the steep incline, spurred on by something of the same feeling which quickens the pace of a returning horse, or cheers a spent swimmer who hears the dash of waves on a welcome shore. At the top her arms relaxed, and Dick, now quite unconscious, sank to the ground; and for a little while she lay beside him almost as unconscious as he was.

Suddenly she seemed to wake to the fact that Dick was deathly still, and, forgetting for the moment her own awful tiredness, she sprang to her feet, and, putting her hands to her mouth, sent out a shout for help which rang across the plateau and reached the anxious household, which awaited her with vague apprehension, shared by all, but which none dared to utter.

With answering shouts they all ran out, some bearing lanterns, and came to where she stood beside Dick’s body. Her mother screamed when she saw her, for she was indeed but a sorry sight.

The struggle, and the constant forcing a way through undergrowth, had tumbled her hair and thrown it, wild and dishevelled, over her shoulders, and the dust of the forest had grimed her damp face, which also was smeared with blood. The hours of strong effort had kept her own wounds and Dick’s open, and from top to toe the white dress in which she had started out — all that was left of it — was smeared, if not drenched, with blood. The flashing lanterns threw into harsh relief the red stains which the falling moonlight had softened, and though the wild picturesqueness of her figure seemed to heighten the effect of her manifest vitality, it could not comfort the heart of her mother, who saw in every item of it danger and pain, and all sorts of unknown possibilities of horror. Recognising the look in her mother’s face, Esse said quickly: