Chapter 4 Chapter Four

Marion looked around the desolate, messy and rugged wilderness: "If you don't know the exact location, how on earth can you find it in this wilderness?" "Like the people who live in the log cabin to find it." Hank said, "The road is covered with heavy snow in winter, and when they go home, they need something to guide them." "What do you mean?" Hank pointed to the woods along the road: "See those little signs?" "Oh, you mean those notches in the tree?" "Yes. Oh look, along the road you can see a long nick with two short nicks below it. They're almost full, and they won't be found by anyone without a definite search mark Yes. And to those familiar with forest life, that is clear enough."

"You think these two left nicks on the path leading to their cabin?" "It must be." "How far is it?" Hank grinned. "How would I know! I was just looking for nicks." He turned in the saddle and thrust his right foot into the stirrup again. "Okay," he said, "let's go." Here and there were small patches of wild meadows along the road, and Marion could see a forbidding expanse—mile after mile of jagged peaks, shadowy canyons, jagged peaks soaring into the sky Covered with snow. Hank Lucas looked back at her and grinned. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"I think so." Suddenly he reined in the horse. "what?" "A moose," he said. "Where? I didn't see it." "There, wait a minute, it's about to bark at the horse." From the shadows came a loud flute-like whistle.It started with a low cry, then rose in pitch, followed by two lower calls, and finally fell silent. "Oh, that's amazing!" exclaimed Marion. "Is this the first time you've heard an elk call?" Her eyes twinkled and she nodded. "He doesn't like these horses," said Lucas. "He thinks they're bull elks, rivals. It's a wild place, and he doesn't know much about people. Look, right there in the shade."

She saw a huge animal with antlers standing in the shade.Suddenly it scratched the ground with its feet, lowered its head, and let out a series of short and sharp roars to show its provocation. "It looks like it's ready to attack," said Marion alarmed. "Yes." Hank grinned, "but before it can do us any harm, it will smell us, realize we're not elk, and run away in a hurry." He turned to her suddenly: "I see you don't want to Take a picture of it. So far, I haven't seen you take a picture of anything. If you didn't come here to take a picture, then why?"

She said, "If I told you, would you be able to keep it a secret?" "I will." The elk took two quick steps forward, then suddenly recognized their scent, took a sniff, turned and fled quickly, like the shadow of a large cloud passing by quickly, its huge body quickly disappeared in the woods up. Marion looked hurried and nervous when he spoke: "I went into the mountain to find my brother, and I think he's the one with Frank Adrian. That's why I want to go with those two." Hank turned the horse around to face her. "Okay," he said quietly, "tell me about him."

"I don't know," she said, "I got the last letter from Harry last summer. He was in Twin Falls. There was an ad in the paper that a man had gone to the mountains to recuperate. , requires a companion who is well acquainted with camping, hunting, and mining. This man is willing to give collateral in addition to sharing the profits of any deposits or skins found. Harry wrote to me that he replied to the advertisement and got this A job, he liked his companions, and they were going into the Salmon River tributary country. That was the last news I got of him." "Does he write to you often?"

"One every two or three months," she said, "but we're very close." "Did he give you any address?" Hank asked. "Yes, it is the seat of the county government." "Did you write to him there?" "yes." "What's the result?" "The letter was returned. I didn't think Harry would go far, and he wouldn't go so long without writing a letter, unless something happened. I always suspected that the ad was fraudulent." "I see," Hank said, "your brother's name is Harry Chandler?"

"Harry Benton," she said. "My name is Marion Chandler Benton. I don't want to use my last name until I know more. I figured if Harry got into any trouble, I might be able to help him. He's impulsive and somewhat capricious." Hank looked at her sharply: "Has he ever been in trouble before?" "Yeah, you know, he—oh, he's impulsive." "Why didn't you tell Collis Adrian this?" "Because in case he's in trouble," Marion said, "if people don't know who I am, I can help him more. I don't want her to know. I'm telling you because you know I'm not here to take pictures , so I want you to know what's going on."

"So I won't go inquiring again?" Hank asked with a grin. "more or less." "Your brother is a rebellious son in the family, right?" "yes." "But you still like him?" "yes." "Will you tell me about the trouble he got into last time?" "No." Hank touched the horse lightly with his spurs. "Okay," he said, "let's go." They rode another half mile and were crossing the big game area.Twice they saw deer standing and watching them.Once they heard a sudden burst of noise in the forest. It turned out that a huge male elk was letting the female elk flee when he saw them approaching, and then the male elk turned around and barked at them provocatively.

"Usually in elk territory, there aren't too many deer around," Hank said, "but there seem to be quite a few here, and I—what's this?" He stopped suddenly. "I didn't see anything." Hank points to a tree. "Oh, yes, now I see it. It's a nick, not like the nick on this road. It looks like whoever carved it didn't want it to be too conspicuous." Hank pointed to some other trees, the scratches on them were almost invisible. "Want to see it?" he asked. She nodded. Hank turned his horse's head and headed down the ridge, following an inconspicuous path.

"Won't you leave some mark or something, so that the pack party can catch up with us?" "They'll see our tracks," Hank said. They walked around several large, sparse woods, lost their way twice on the way around, but found their way again at last.Then suddenly, without warning, they found a small clearing and a cabin. Hank dismounted, throwing the reins on the ground. Marion looked at the cabin for a moment, then jumped out of the saddle. "That's the cabin in the picture," she said. "That's where the picture was taken." "Let's take a look around." They crossed the small space in front of the door, and Hank pushed open the door of the cabin. Marion stood beside him, studying the cabin carefully. Inside there was a wood stove made of rough iron, two beds leaning against the wall, a bench of rough workmanship, and a row of boxes nailed to the wall formed a cupboard containing some plates, knives and forks.A frying-pan hung on a nail, and a large saucepan was covered upside down over the stove.The cabin had a dirt floor, but it was cleaner than any abandoned cabin Marion had seen.However, there was still a peculiar musty smell in the house, which suggested that it had been a long time since the last time there was a fire in the stove or someone was asleep in the bed. On the table was a half-filled kerosene lamp. "Well," said Hank, "I think that's where it is. You say your brother's a veteran camper?" "Yes. He's had a lot of trapping and prospecting. He doesn't like civilization much." Hank nodded.He took off his hat and scratched his temple hair. "What's the matter?" she asked. "What's the matter?" "Nothing," Hank said. "I think it's all right. Let's get back on track. We'll be camping around here." "We can camp in this clearing, with this cabin, can't we?" "Better not," Hank said quickly, "let's get back on track and—hey, what's this?" Hank looked at several boxes nailed to the wall of the cabin. "What? I don't see anything." Hank said, "That piece of paper, it looks like the edge of an envelope." "Oh, yes. Now I see." Hank walked over, grasped the corner of the envelope between his thumb and forefinger, and pulled it out through the gap between the box and the log cabin wall. Marion smiled nervously: "This must be a letter he left there. He forgot to post it." Hank turned the envelope over and said, "This is for 'anyone who finds the letter.' It's not sealed, let's see." Hank opened the envelope and took out the only sheet of paper, both sides of the paper were filled with neat pen writing.He spread the letter on the table. Marion, standing beside him, read the letter with him: My name is Frank Adrian and I don't remember much about myself until the last few days.I am married to Collis Lesson Adrian, and I have given her address at the end of this letter, so that anyone who sees it may inform her if necessary. I suffer from memory loss.An episode not too long ago caused me to leave the house.For a while, I didn't know who I was and only remembered a part of my life.I suffered a head injury in a car accident and my memory went blank afterward.Recently, however, my mind has cleared and I now know who I am. At this time I was partnered with a strange man named Harry Benton, a man with a great experience of forest life, and adept at traveling and exploring on horseback.We come to this cabin to do some scouting, and when it's cold, we do some trapping. I had heard of cabin fever, a strange disease.It is a disorder in which two persons have to spend a lot of time with each other until at last they are utterly bored and irritated, producing a kind of insanity. I never thought this would happen to me. I was quite normal, but my companion, Harry Benton, was showing symptoms of cabin fever.He hated me with an intense and perverse willful will.I think he's crazy. We had argued a few days ago over a trivial matter, but I could see that Benton was getting very furious, and it never stopped.I'm going to get out of here, but I'm still a novice and it's going to be a tough trip.I'm sure Benton will come after me if he finds out I've turned my back on him.So I wanted to start first in case he caught up with me. If the worst happens, please let my wife know whoever finds this letter. The letter was signed "Frank Adrian" and below it was his wife's address. Hank looked up at Marion Benton. "Oh, what absurdity!" she exclaimed. "This man must be abnormal. Harry is not what he says he is." "Fever is a weird thing," said Hank. "I've met some really nice people. They were great camping buddies before they got cabin fever. Then—well, it was a mental illness. You can't-" "Oh, nonsense! Harry is camping all over the area with other people. He spends as much time in the mountains as you do. It's ludicrous to think that Harry would fly off like that." "But of course being around a newbie is a pain," Hank points out, "and sometimes, just arguing with them is enough to make you..." "But, Hank, that's absolutely stupid. I don't know why this man wrote that letter, but, I do, it's ridiculous." "Okay," said Hank, "let's go back and stop the pack party. We'll camp around here and have a look at the cabin. Everything seems to be in order here." Marion nodded, too shocked and angry to say much. Hank looked around for a moment, then said, "Oh, oh, what's this?" "what?" Hank walks towards a wall.There were some brown-red spots at the foot of the wall, which were obviously pear-shaped marks left by something splashed on the wooden wall and dried. Marion looked at the smudge, then looked up at Hank: "Hank, this is..." Hank nodded and said, "I think we'd better get out of here and join them." It was late afternoon when Marion Chandler Benton, Collis Adrian, James DeWitt and Hank Lucas returned to the cabin.In the meantime, they found a campsite, and Kenny and the cook stayed behind to unhorse and set up camp.Lucas briefly described their findings and showed the letter.Marion announced to everyone that she was Harry Benton's sister and laughed at the letter. James DeWitt was not surprised by her statement.However, he quickly sided with Lady Adrian. "Do you think Frank Adrian wrote that letter as a joke?" he said. "He's a novice," said Marion. "He's not used to living in the mountains with anybody. Harry may be a little quiet, and Frank thinks it's cabin fever." "Well, if Frank's all right and it's all just a misunderstanding," DeWitt said, "why doesn't his wife get any news of him?" "Because he has amnesia. He lost his memory again." "Maybe," DeWitt said, but it was clear from his tone that he didn't believe it at all. "Since we've all taken off our masks, I might as well tell you that I'm the detective in charge of the Track and Personnel Division—here, here's my ID." "Let's go, please," said Collis Adrian. "I don't want to trouble anybody. I just want to find Frank. Let's go." As soon as they arrived at the cabin, DeWitt took charge of the scene, examining the reddish-brown stains on the walls. "Those stains are blood," he said. "Now, we have to be careful not to mess up anything in the house. Hank, tell me exactly where you found this letter." Hank Lucas slipped the letter back into the back of the box. "Right here," he said, "stick out a little bit like this." "Just stick out so much?" "Yes, that's about it." "I see, let's look at the stove." Hank said: "There doesn't seem to be any firewood or kindling here, but I can go out and get some dry wood, and it will warm the house in just a few minutes." "Never," said DeWitt, "we're going to leave everything as it is, except to see the ashes under the hob."