observation, and to allow the strange Indians to go far enough away so
that they could proceed without being molested. Which way to journey
next was a difficult question to them, but as it would be quite
impossible to cross the barren, rocky hills before them, they finally
determined to go down the stream until they came to the terminus of the
hills that the chief had seen, and instead of crossing over as he had
done to strike out into the woodland beyond the dell, and take their
course on as far as it extended. Having made everything ready for an
early start the next morning, they laid down to sleep. About midnight
they were awakened by the blinding glare of torches, and found three
hideous savages bending over them with raised tomahawks. Comprehending
at once the nature of the assault, they sprang to their feet and
attacked their assailants. The chief had the fortune to cleave the
skull of the one nearest him at the first blow of his tomahawk, and
turning, saw another who had the trapper at disadvantage, with tomahawk
raised above his head, and with a dexterous blow he disabled the arm
raised with the murderous weapon. In a moment he would have killed the
Indian had not the screams of Jane, whom the remaining savage attempted
to carry off in his arms after knocking Sidney senseless with his
war-club, made him forget all else, and spring to her rescue. The
trapper, who was not hurt, made a blow at his assailant, but he evaded
it and tied into the forest where Howe thought it not prudent to
follow, as he imagined a whole ambuscade of Indians might be in waiting
to seize upon him. Hastening to the assistance of Whirlwind, he saw him
closed hand to hand with the savage, their hunting-knives being their
only weapons, both having dropped their tomahawks. Howe saw they were
equally matched, and fearing the chief would get a bad wound, raised a
club and dealt the savage a blow that felled him to the ground. The
chief soon despatched him, and then they turned to Sidney and Edward.
Already were they reviving, not having received any serious wounds. The
copious gourds of water that Jane had sprinkled over them were all the
care they needed. They now bethought themselves of Mahnewe. She was
gone; not a vestige or clue remaining of her or the child.
"Betrayed!" said the chief with compressed lips and glistening eyes.
"Oh, no; she has never betrayed us!" said the trapper. "I fear there
was more than three of the savages, and they have stolen her."
"It is horrible! they will kill her! Oh, uncle, cannot we pursue and
overtake them?" said Jane.
"I will go and bring her scalp," said the chief. "She is a foe and has
led the dogs to murder her benefactors."
"No; we shall have to leave her to her fate," said Howe. "One of the
Indians has escaped to give the alarm, and perhaps within this hour or
as soon as daylight, the whole tribe will be down upon us. Our only
hope for our own lives is in flight. Our horses may out-travel them if
they defer the attack until daylight. Fortunately for us the horses are
fresh and strong."
Hastily mounting in the darkness, with no light save the faint glimmer
of the stars, they plunged into the unknown wilds before them,
Whirlwind leading them as a guide. But instead of taking the direction
they had determined on after a long consultation the day before, they
mistook the route in their haste and the darkness, and fled north-west
of it; but they pursued their way in silence.
At last the welcome day broke, and halting to take a drink themselves
and water their horses, they remounted, and galloped rapidly through
the forest. In about two hours they came to the bank of a river, the
largest they had seen in their wanderings. Entering this in order to
throw their pursuers off the track, they rode up it as long as the
river continued wide, but as it contracted the water became too deep to
be breasted by the horses, and they crossed to the opposite bank. Here,
to their great sorrow, their goat and her kid gave out, and no urging
could induce them to proceed. The animals had evidently gone as far as
they were capable, and with sorrow they turned them loose and left
them. The goat's milk had been such an indispensable addition to their
store that they felt as if parting with one of their main reliances in
leaving her behind.
Still they pursued their way, avoiding the hills as much as possible
until the sun was high in the heavens; when becoming weary with their
hard ride, and faint for want of food, they halted in a spot where a
cool spring gushed from beneath a huge boulder that looked as if it had
been hurled from a rocky acclivity above to its bed. Tethering their
horses where they could feed, they set a guard and began with all haste
to eat such as their provision bags afforded. Cooking was out of the
question, for the smoke would point out the exact spot where they were,
a thing they were most desirous to hide.
They now calculated they were thirty miles from the place of their last
encampment, and beyond the danger of being overtaken, provided their
enemies had no horses, which they thought quite probable. However, they
deemed it imprudent to rely on such a supposition; and after an hour's
halt, they again moved on, pausing occasionally to refresh themselves,
until towards sunset, when the ground became more even and the soil
more sandy. Here they noticed the vegetation was becoming more sparse,
what trees there were having a stunted and gnarled appearance; after a
long search they found a spring of pure water, by which they encamped
for the night, being now relieved from the fear of an attack; for, had
they been ever so well mounted they could not have made a greater
distance than they had, and having the advantage of a start of their
pursuers they calculated on a certain escape. They were unmolested
through the night; and early in the morning they again set forth. At
noon where they halted the face of the country was much as it was when
they set out in the morning; but, after a rapid ride in the afternoon,
the vegetation entirely disappeared except the rank grass, leaving a
broad prairie before them. Here they paused, resolving to rest
themselves before they proceeded farther.
Alas! had they only known which way to proceed,--what direction would
lead them to their home and friends, it would have been well with them.
But they had pursued so many different directions they had become
bewildered, and all courses seemed to them alike. The next and the next
day passed over and found them undecided whether it was best to cross
over the prairie or not; but the third day they concluded to do so, and
refreshed and invigorated they set out. Two days of their journey they
found occasional supplies of water, and on the third towards noon they
came to its boundary. The forest skirting the border of the prairie was
a clump of stunted trees, and there was very little grass or shrubs
growing around. Everything looked forlorn and desolate about them,
offering but scanty subsistence for themselves or beasts.
Following the forest down a short distance they found a tolerable
camping ground where they spent the night. The next day on riding
through the forest about three miles they found that it terminated,
leaving a field of sand without a blade of grass or shrub growing upon
it. It was nothing but sand, drear and desolate as far as the eye could
reach. They were stupefied, and gazed sadly on the barren waste before
them.
"This," at last said the trapper, "is the desert of which we have heard
by vague rumors and traditions, but of which, until now, I never
believed existed. We have undoubtedly made our way on the opposite
side, and it will be necessary for us to either go across or round it
in order to get home. The nearest course is across, and even when
there, we shall be many hundred miles from home."
Jane could hardly repress the sob that arose as her uncle announced the
dismal prospect that lay before them, and even hope almost died in her
heart. For the first time she entertained the thought that there was a
probability of ending their days in those unknown, unbroken regions.
Whirlwind saw the emotion that was stirring her heart, for he was a
keen observer, and read human nature with that accuracy peculiarly
characteristic of the Indian. Placing himself by her side, he said in a
mild tone--
"Why is the antelope troubled? is not her warrior by her side to make
her a new home? The wilderness encircles us on every side, and the
Great Spirit makes a barrier of sand that we cannot escape. It is his
will that we remain; let us not attempt to leave the forest."
"Look here, chief, let Jane alone," said Sidney, angrily, as he
attempted to draw her from Whirlwind.
"Sidney," said Howe, in an authoritative tone, "how long will it be
before you learn prudence?"
An angry retort rose to his lips, but catching the pleading eye of the
young girl fixed upon him, he remained silent and walked away.
"Come, chief, what say you, shall we strike the desert or not."
"Were I to consult my own inclination, I should say not, but return to
our quarters, and prepare for winter."
"That is out of the question, chief; go home we must," spoke up Edward,
with a tone of energy and decision quite new to him.
"Yes, go home! we not only _must_, but _will_," said Sidney.
"If we can get home," added Jane, sadly.
"We will do our best," said Howe, in a cheerful tone. He saw, too, that
he had an arduous trial to contend with in the angry feelings Sidney
entertained for the chief, which to his credit the chief never seemed
to notice or resent. He knew the temper of the chieftain well, and knew
him patient and forgiving, but knew him also unrelenting in his hate,
when his anger was aroused. Howe's policy was to keep up a unity of
feeling and purpose between every member of his little band, as he well
knew a division would weaken their exertions, and cripple their efforts
to extricate themselves from the trials that every day were thickening
and becoming more complicated around them.
A consultation ensued, in which they came to the conclusion to cross
the desert; but, as tradition said there was not a drop of water or a
blade of grass to be had between the two boundaries, and that the
desert was two days' journey across, they retreated to a spot where
grass and water could be collected in quantities sufficient to last
them the three days they would be in crossing the barren waste. Happily
they were well provided with horses, having still in their possession
those that had been appropriated to the use of Oudin and Mahnewe, as
well as the two pack horses. Gathering large quantities of grass by
cutting it up with their hunting knives, they bound it in compact
bundles; then taking some skins, they sewed them up, making them tight
and secure for water-bags. The morning of the third day found them
ready for their perilous adventure. Each one taking a water-bag, a
bundle of grass and provision on his own horse, sufficient to last them
through the first day, which, together with the four horses heavily
laden with provision, water and grass, they thought quite sufficient to
last them, double the time they intended being on the desert.
Hope again gilded the future to the wanderers as they surveyed with
satisfaction the result of their labors; and, when they turned their
horses towards the sandy plain before them, their hearts were elated,
and a feeling of security against its terrors made them even gay and
joyous. It is well the future is always hid from view; were it not, the
heart would faint and shrink from its trials when called to endure
them, and instead of bravely contending with them, it would be palsied
and weakened by fear.
Chapter Sixteenth.
They set out over the Desert. Encampment in the sand. An island in the
sand discovered. Singular appearance of rocks. Human skeletons found in
the sand. A mirage. Dreary prospects. Some of their horses give out.
They arrive at an oasis. Beautiful scenery. They come to a lake.
Singular geological features, They discover and explore a cavern in
which they come upon mysterious implements. Gold found in abundance.
The cavern supposed to have been an ancient mine. Its remarkable
features.
The sky was overcast with clouds as they entered the desert, which
broke and finally cleared away before the day was half spent. It had
been their intention to ride as fast as their horses could travel; but
they found that travelling in the sand, where, at every step the
horses' hoofs sank above the fetlock, was easier talked of than
performed, and to their dismay, they found themselves reduced to a
walk, by the time they lost sight of the forest whence they started. A
feeling of loneliness now crept involuntarily over them which deepened
by finding the desert bestrewed with bones bleached in the sun, of
those who had probably been lost in this barren waste, and had perished
with hunger and thirst. The mid-day sun now poured its rays on their
unprotected heads, causing a feeling of dizziness, while its glittering
reflection from the sand almost blinded their sight. At sunset, when
about to halt for the night, they caught a faint glimmer of a body
rising against the horizon, brought into relief by the expiring light.
"A forest!" they all shouted joyously at the sight. But, as they were
now fatigued and hungry, and the object ahead, if a forest, was
apparently miles away, they concluded to spend the night where they
were. That night the sand was their bed, the skins they used for
saddles their pillows, and the star-gemmed canopy above their only
covering. At dawn they were again on their march, and as they proceeded
the objects they had seen the night before faint and indistinctly,
became more clearly defined, having the appearance of uneven bodies,
scattered over a considerable extent of territory. In a few hours, they
came to them and found, instead of a forest, a singular mass of rocks,
sometimes rising in smooth perpendicular columns, some of them capped
by a huge flat rock laying as regularly as if placed there by the hand
of mechanical skill, and then again they were thrown down and lay
scattered around as if by some violent throe of nature. Though there
were vast fields of rock, not a shrub, nor any sign of vegetation could
be seen. All was desolate, sand and rock. What struck them as being
very singular about these rocks, was the fact that, they were divided
into two distinct parts, leaving a pathway through them fifty feet
wide, unincumbered by boulder or stones, and which was smooth and even.
Guiding their horses through this defile, which seemed like a portal to
the desert beyond, they could not refrain from the thought that the
hand of man had built here a barrier, to prevent the incursion of some
foe; still these rocks were so massive, rude, and in such gigantic
proportions, it almost set at defiance the supposition that human
agency could have placed them there. Riding further on a few miles,
they came upon the skeleton of an Indian, half buried in the sand,
entirely denuded of flesh, and laying as if he had calmly lain down to
die. Shuddering at the spectacle, they rode on a few paces, when
another, and another, met their sight, until they had counted fifteen
skeletons. They had probably been a party lost in the desert, and being
unable to extricate themselves had miserably perished in that dreary
spot.
Surveying these a moment, and then with a glance at their own store of
provisions, they urged on their horses until night, when they were
obliged to halt, for their animals exhibited signs of giving out from
fatigue, although no indication of the expected forest, with its supply
of water and game, was in view, as they had anticipated. Nothing but a
plain of sand, occasional rocky beds, and huge boulders scattered among
them were seen. Well it was for them that they had taken an extra
supply of provisions, or they, too, might have perished by a death more
lingering and terrible than cannibals could inflict. With heavy hearts
and dread forbodings when light again dawned, they once more resumed
their journey, the desert retaining the same appearance it had the day
before, until towards night, when, to their joy! a forest loomed
against the horizon. Forgetting their fatigue, they urged their wearied
beasts on, mile after mile, until darkness hid every object in its
mantle of gloom. Still on they went, till the horses paused, trembling
and tottering, ready to fall. They could proceed no farther. Giving
them water and grass, they ate their own supper and lay down to sleep,
with the expectation of being in full view of the forest when daylight
should break upon them.
Worn with fatigue they slept soundly, forgetting for a few hours, the
terrible anxiety that tortured them when awake, and the sun had already
risen before they awoke from dreaming of beautiful forests, through
which clear streams went murmuring, and where game of every
description, from the huge buffalo to the tiny singing bird, abounded.
Rousing themselves, their first thought was of the forest, and looking
around not a vestige was to be seen, and the truth gradually dawned
upon them as they gazed horror stricken in each other's bloodless
faces, that they had seen a mirage, and that, instead of terminating,
it betokened that the desert extended far beyond them. Seeing the panic
into which they were all thrown by this discovery, Howe said in a
cheerful tone--
"Come! come! this will never do: we have provision and water enough for
us and the horses for to-day, and we can easily divide, and make it
last two days. We are caught and must do the best we can; at least we
can never free ourselves, if we stand still and bewail our fate."
"Oh, uncle! this is terrible," said Edward, gazing abstractedly around
where nothing but desolation met his eye.
"We can do no better than help ourselves out of it," said Jane,
encouragingly. "Be a man, Edward, and, doing your best, take your
chance with the rest."
"That is a brave girl," said Howe, with a nod of approval. "Let us be
courageous; the darkest hour of the night is that just before the dawn.
Is it not so, chief?"
"Always," answered the chief. "I have heard our old men speak of these
deserts, but they are more vast and dreary than even the report
portrayed them. But if we would escape, every moment is precious, and
we must haste away."
Alas! a new evil had visited them, for on going to their horses they
found them lame, stiff, and hardly able to move. One refused to rise
from the bed of sand, and no effort could move him. Constant travel in
the desert beneath the burning sun, had done the work for him; he was
useless, and to save his dying from thirst and starvation, they killed
him. They did that with sorrowful hearts, well knowing if they waited
to take him with them, it would be death to them, and that he could
never escape from his girdle of sand, if left alive.
The other horses soon began to show sufficient activity to warrant
their travelling, and again they rode on. That day they had sufficient
to last them, but they could not make it hold out longer unless they
put themselves on short allowance. Halting at noon, where not a ray of
deliverance shone upon them any more than their first day out, they
concluded to kill the three spare horses in order to save the water and
grass for the rest. Selecting the three that exhibited the greatest
signs of lassitude, they killed them. Confident now of holding on their
course another day, they took their luggage on the horses they rode,
and again set out. A copious shower of rain fell before night which was
a great relief, as it refreshed their heated bodies as well as their
horses, and cooled the temperature of the sand, from which they had
been greatly annoyed by its scattering, and sometimes almost blinding
their eyes, causing them to become inflamed and exceeding painful. That
night also rain fell; but making a covering of the skins they used for
saddles, they managed to get a few hours' sleep, and as it served to
refresh them and the horses, and knowing that rain in the desert is of
rare occurrence, they felt as if it was truly providential. They also
found their horses in the morning in better condition than they had
expected, and with a faint hope that they might reach a forest that
day, they set out expecting that, in all probability, they were near
land well moistened, and the showers they had received had been only
the extension of a larger one that had passed over a tract of country
supplying moisture for plenteous evaporation. This they knew the desert
could never do, and it caused their spirits to elate with hope. In a
few hours more a small speck was seen circling in the air. "A bird! a
bird!" cried the chief, pointing at the object. Howe's quick eye caught
the sight of it, when it disappeared, and was lost in the distance.
"Thank Heaven," cried Jane, fervently; "we shall be saved at last!" and
tears of joy filled eyes that trials could not dim.
"Yes, we are near a forest," said the chief; "the dark hour is passing;
may the day in its brightness repay us for its darkness."
"Amen to that!" said Sidney; "and may the day bring no evil worse than
the night."
"What can be worse," indignantly asked Edward, "than the terrible days
we have spent on these burning sands."
"Do not repine, Edward," said Jane, gently "Those bleaching bones we
passed indicate that others have fared worse than we have', for _we_
still live."
"They were nothing but Indians, and they get used to such things," said
Sidney.
"Does the young brave think the Indians cannot feel?" asked the chief,
reproachfully. "He will not repine at his lot, because red blood flows
in his veins, and he scorns to be a coward. Those that wail most feel
the least; they throw their griefs to the winds; but the Indian is too
proud to be pitied, and hides the grief in his heart, singing his
war-song to cover its workings."
"You make heroes of your people, chief," said Sidney, touched by the
deep tone of feeling with which these words were uttered.
"We are warriors and braves," returned the chief.
About noon the waving tops of trees became visible, strangely
intermixed with bold outlines which they found on a nearer approach to
be rocks. This time the trees proved to be real; and as they
approached, the forest grew more clearly defined, and towards night to
their inexpressible joy, they came to patches on which were found
sparse and stunted vegetation. Halting, they used their last water for
themselves and horses, consumed their last provisions, and lay down to
rest, until daylight should enable them to explore the place around
them. Alas! when the rising sun lit up the scenery around them, they
saw that they had not gained the main land, but had come to an oasis of
about three miles in circumference, much of which was quite barren, and
the rest covered with coarse grass, large beds of slate rock, with here
and there a huge boulder, and the whole intermixed with scattered trees
that looked as if they had struggled hard to maintain existence. The
whole tribe of cactæ was here represented, stretching its long
snake-like arms over the rocky place, giving it a peculiarly ugly
appearance. Fortunately, a few shrubs grew scattered over the oasis, on
which their horses might feed, and turning them loose to glean where
they could find anything, being well assured they would not of their
own accord, enter the desert, they dispersed in search of water and
something to satisfy their own hunger. For, having been on short
allowance the day before, they did not relish the idea of fasting any
length of time.
Edward and Jane took a course to the right, while the rest separately
took courses in different directions, with the understanding that they
were to communicate with each other by hallooing, if they found either
water, roots, or game. The children's course at first was over a pebbly
bed, which terminated in a disjointed mass of sandstone, which towered
up to a considerable height, and was one of the objects that had
attracted their attention from the desert. Ascending to the top of this
with much difficulty, a vision of loveliness met their sight--a vision
which gladdened the hearts of the half famished children. A vale lay
before them shaded by luxuriant foliage, and covered with a green
sward, in the centre of which, a lake spreading over about three acres
of ground slept in tranquil beauty, its waters dotted with numerous
water fowl of brilliant plumage.
They stood for some time silently contemplating the scene before them;
their hearts were too full for words, and a feeling of gratefulness
that they had been led thither, made them forget for the time all they
had suffered.
"Shout, Edward, and call them to us," said Jane, as the trance-like
feeling that first seized her, wore away.
The hallo of Edward rung out on the clear air, answered the next moment
by another, and then another, until all had been apprized of their
discovery. Guided by Edward's voice, they all arrived on the ledge of
rocks in half an hour, and as they, in turn, looked down on the scene
below, they were almost overcome with joy, at the sight of the
deliverance at hand. They soon descended the rocky ledge, which they
found exceedingly hazardous, as the pebbles gave way under their feet,
often precipitating them on the sharp stones below. They heeded not
their difficulties, for the vale lay invitingly before them, and with
their eyes on that, they finally reached the bottom in safety, and
entered the welcome shade. They found the soil was rich and productive,
teeming with vegetation, and the woods filled with fowl. No signs of
other game were around, but they saw the lake was filled with fine
fish, which were so tame that they swam close to the water's edge.
"Build a fire; we all want breakfast," cried the chief, exultingly, as,
with stick in hand, he waded out a few feet, striking right and left
among the finny tribes. In a few minutes a number of large fish,
stunned by the blows, turned over on their sides, and floated on the
surface, when they were caught up by the chief, and thrown on the
shore. A plentiful repast was soon ready, and having satisfied their
hunger, they turned their thoughts to their future.
"We will encamp here," said the trapper, "until we shall have recruited
ourselves and horses. Our luggage, though it is so scanty, is of
incalculable value to us, and must be brought thither also."
"How the poor horses will relish this tender grass and cool water?"
said Jane.
"I am going for them," said the chief. "Let one of the young braves go
with me, and all may be brought at once." Sidney and the chief set out
on their way, following the base of the ledge of rocks in order to get
around it, when they met the horses making their way towards them at a
rapid gait. The instinct of the wild prairie horse had caused them to
scent the water, for which they were making by the nearest route. Poor
things! they were worn almost to skeletons, lamed and crippled, and
were pitiable sights to look upon.
Building themselves a hut to shield them from rain and dew, they made
preparations to remain a number of days before they again ventured on
the dreary desert. They supposed by the large quantities of fowl, that
they were at no great distance from main land; but as this was mere
conjecture, they dared not rely upon it. Past experience, dearly
purchased, warned them to presume on nothing, and that their own
boasted woodcraft was of little avail, under difficulties like those in
which they were now placed.
For the three first days of their sojourn at that place they were so
fatigued and debilitated that they were content to keep quiet by the
lake, the delightful repose which they enjoyed so intensely, after the
harassing terrors of the desert, strengthened the spirits of the
wanderers as well as their bodies.
The fifth and sixth days they began to explore farther around the
place, and the seventh they had become quite strengthened, so magically
had the pure water and an abundance of fish and fowl, together with the
numerous roots which they found, acted upon them. They found this lake
had no streams entering or running from it, and that no motion stirred
its placid bosom save a singular circular one that never changed from
the slow monotony of its course.
In one of their rambles they had noticed a singular opening in the
rocks that formed the ridge; but something else attracting their
attention at the moment, they had passed it by without a close
inspection of it. A week afterwards they chanced to be in its vicinity,
and they at once resolved to explore the cavern, for such the opening
they had no doubt would lead them to. Providing themselves with
torches, they ventured in, the chief leading the way. The opening was
about eight feet high and three broad, resembling a doorway; and
holding their torches close to the edge they found it had been actually
cut, as distinct traces of where the rock had been broken off were
still visible. Passing over the rubbish that had accumulated at the
mouth, they came to a solid rocky floor quite smooth as if worn so by
constant friction. For about fifty feet the passage had a uniform
appearance, the sides and roof looking as if recently cut by a mason's
hand. The passage suddenly terminated, and they found themselves in a
place about six feet wide, and running parallel to the ledge. How long
it was they could not see, as it extended in two directions. Taking the
one leading to the right they had gone but a few feet when a peculiar
glittering in the opposite side of the cave arrested their attention,
which on close inspection they pronounced to be particles of gold mixed
with the rock. They found, as they proceeded, that they were ascending
gradually, and that the passage was of a uniform height; and, as the
particles of gold were plainly visible imbedded in the rock, they came
to the conclusion that they had come to an ancient gold mine, and the
tunnel had indeed been cut by human skill.
They soon came to the terminus of this part, and when they returned
they resolved to explore the cavern at the left, being very anxious to
do so. The chief, however, dissented, for he had been troubled from the
moment they had discovered the particles of gold. At first he
peremptorily refused to go with them until he found they were resolved
to go even if he remained behind. Then yielding a reluctant consent he
took his torch and led the way. This passage was precisely similar to
the other, with the exception that it descended gradually while the
other ascended. Here too the particles of gold were discovered
glittering in the rock that formed one of the sides of the passage;
and, as none of the precious ore was visible on the roof or other side,
they supposed a vein had run through the rock in a dip formed by an
upheaval of the rock, and which having been discovered by some unknown
persons, the ledge had been tunneled and the ore taken from its hidden
bed.
Following the tunnel a short distance, they came to a single step,
about two feet high, which descending, they found others at regular
intervals of about ten feet apart, until they had counted fifty of
them. The sides along which the vein ran bore indications of having
yielded vast quantities of ore, with still enough to repay the labor of
crushing the quartz in which it was imbedded, and extracting the gold.
The steps now terminated, and the passage branched in two directions at
right angles with each other. In one of the branches they found the
continuation of the vein of precious ore, and followed it up. Instead
of its descending, they found it perfectly level, the passage having
the same width and height as at its mouth for a considerable distance,
when it suddenly opened into a large room, which they found, by pacing
it, to be three hundred feet long, and two hundred and twenty wide, in
the longest and widest parts. Its shape was very singular, jutting out
here and there, and as the glare of the torches lighted up the gloom,
millions of particles from every crevice and jutting point of its
rugged sides, reflected back their light in flashing rays.
"The abode of evil spirits!" cried the chief, in great alarm, with more
agitation perhaps than he would have exhibited before a shower of darts
aimed at him, or than at the stake of an enemy. "Fly!" he continued,
"before it is too late! The anger of the Evil Spirit is fearful, when
aroused; fly! fly! and save yourselves," and, with a vice-like grasp,
he caught up Jane and bounded up the passage. Howe saw the movement,
but the chief had been so quick, that he had made half the distance of
the passage before he could overtake, and get ahead of him so as to
block up the passage.
"Put her down!" thundered the indignant trapper, with menacing gestures
to the chief.
Sitting her on her feet, he glanced first at the trapper who stood
before him with compressed lips and flashing eyes, then at the
terrified girl, from her around the cavern, as if he expected a demon
to pounce upon them at every moment.
"Chief! this is hardly what I should have expected from you!" said the
trapper, angrily.
The chief seemed stupefied, and stood gazing around him like one
suddenly demented.
"No violence shall be offered to Jane, while I live," continued the
trapper. "I am her guardian here."
"And after you, I, and her brother," said Sidney, defiantly.
"Don't be too hard on the chief," spoke up Edward. "He intended no
wrong, and, judging from his actions, I take it, he thought he was
doing her a great kindness by securing her from some imagined danger.
What say you, Jane? is the chief culpable or not?"
"He was frightened, I presume," returned the young girl, evasively.
"I am not a coward; yet, who is there that dare contend with invisible
spirits?" said the chief, in an humble tone. "This is an evil place,
and the evil spirits that have their abode here, have stirred up strife
among us already! Come, let us hurry away, else we shed each others'
blood!"
"Take my hand, chief, and forgive my anger," said the trapper, kindly.
"I was wrong to deal so harshly with prejudices taught at your mother's
knee, and which are inherent with your very nature."
"That is right, uncle," said Edward. "Jane and I have long been under
the impression that it is no way to eradicate prejudice by becoming
angry with it. This," he added, addressing Sidney, "is quite as much
for your benefit as any one's."
"There, the evil spirit is at work again!" said Jane, as a cutting
retort fell from Sidney. "Come," she added, "I have not seen half
enough of that wonderful room; let us return and give it a thorough
exploration."
"No, no," said the chief, in alarm, "do not go, we have seen too much
already."
"I shall go, and so shall Jane," said Sidney, decidedly, "you can
return any moment you like; but your heathen prejudices shall never mar
our pleasure."
"Oh, yes, chief," said Edward, kindly, "we must explore the cavern. If
bad spirits preside there, they will not harm us; you need not go; we
shall think none the less of you for returning."
"We are desirous to give this cave a thorough exploration, and while
doing this, you get us some ducks for dinner," said the trapper. "We do
not desire you to accompany us since you have such a great repugnance
for doing so."
"Does the white chief think his brother is a coward, that he asks him
to desert him in the hour of danger? If you go and rouse their anger, I
go also to share your fate; though that be death!" So saying, the chief
caught up some broken rocks with which the floor was scattered in one
hand, and drawing his hunting knife in the other, cried out in a tone
of desperation, "lead on; I am prepared for them!"
This last act of the chief of arming with missile and knife to fight
invisible spirits was too much for Edward's risibility, and the
consequence was a shout of laughter in which they all joined save the
chief. The merry, mocking tones reverberated through the cavern,
swelling and gathering strength from a thousand echoes that threw back
the sound until it seemed as if a legion of demons were mocking them
from every crevice and niche of the passage. They were silent for the
moment, and glanced around them in terror. The superstition of the
savage had not been without its influence, although reason refused to
acknowledge it.
"You are not frightened at an echo, are you? why I believe you are all
cowards, scared out of your wits at your shadows!" said Howe, in a
subdued voice; for, in truth, he did not care himself to awaken the
echoes needlessly.
Entering the room they had left so unceremoniously, they found the vein
of ore had probably once covered the whole area and had been about
seven feet thick, as the vein of pure ore commencing about two feet
from the bottom of the cavern extended that height and then it was
mixed with quartz rock three feet further up. The whole cavern was
about eighteen feet high, and had the appearance of being entirely
artificial. The children could not repress a cry of astonishment as
they comprehended the vastness of the hidden treasures before them--a
treasure sufficient to enrich kingdoms. It might, for aught they knew,
cover miles in extent around of the same thickness; certainly what was
visible was unparalleled for purity and extent by any that had ever
been discovered. Heaps of quartz rock, in which particles of gold
glittered, strewed the bottom of the cavern as if they had been blocked
out and cast aside in digging the purer metal. Among these were found a
number of chisels made of a metal which, by reason of its being so
corroded, they could not make out. Mallets of stone were also found,
looking as if but lately used. These instruments had cheated time of
its prey, and lay there in their pristine distinctness a link binding
the past with the future. They also found an instrument which was
something like our pick-axe, and had evidently been used in dislodging
the treasure from its bed.
"The relics of the lost people whom the Great Spirit destroyed in his
anger!" said the chief.
"Rather say, the treasure-house where the natives obtained their
treasure before our people came to this continent, and for which
misguided Europeans put thousands to death for not revealing the
locality where the golden deposit lay!" said Howe.
While carelessly tumbling over the masses of rock that lay scattered
over the floor, they came to a circular helmet of copper, similar to
the one they had previously found; and by its side a javelin resembling
that found sticking in the petrified body in the cavern through which
they escaped from the cannibals. Stimulated by these discoveries they
began to search with earnestness and were soon rewarded by the
discovery of a quantity of bones, some of them still quite perfect,
sufficiently so for them to ascertain that they were those of a man,
and that he had been of extraordinary size. Pushing their exertions
farther on they came across a massive urn of pure gold bearing the
appearance of having been cut out of a solid lump. The brim was
elaborately wrought, as were also the handles and the three feet on
which it rested, leaving a space running through the middle perfectly
plain with the exception of several beautifully carved hieroglyphics
that were placed with great regularity and precision around the centre.
The trapper took the urn in his hands, and after clearing it from dust
and mould held it close to the torches and examined the hieroglyphics
long and minutely and laying it down, said--
"Could we tell the meaning of these characters we should have more
light to illuminate the gloom that enshrouds the history of a nation
that once held this continent and enriched their coffers from this
cavern. This urn has been the work of the ancestors of the old man of
Lake Superior. The characters on it are identical with those he showed
me, and may the day be not far distant when we may be enabled to read
these records of the past."
"How beautiful!" they all remarked, as this discovery came to light,
with the exception of the chief, who sullenly stood apart regarding the
discoverers with unmistakable disapproval.
"This must be ours," said Sidney; "if we should ever find our way home
it would be a great curiosity sufficient to repay us for some of the
suffering we have endured."
"Oh, yes; this is too beautiful to leave here any longer," said Jane.
"We can wrap it in grass and furs and carry it on the horses very
well."
"I agree with you in this," said Howe, "and think it would be a
sacrifice of the beautiful to leave such a mark of civilization in this
lonely spot."
"My brother forgets himself, as he will sacrifice the lives of the
children of the great Medicine for a paltry love of a glittering
bauble," said the chief, sadly.
"We must have our way this once, chief," said Howe, good humoredly,
"but promise you faithfully whatever else we may find may remain."
"That you may safely promise, for nothing more rich and beautiful could
be found," said Jane.
"Unless we find another chair of state set with star stones, as the
chief calls them, but which I believe are veritable diamonds," said
Sidney.
On further examination numerous pieces of pottery were found, and also
more bones, javelins and helmets, but nothing different from what they
had seen. Leaving this vast treasure-house, they retraced their steps
to the place where the other avenue branched off, and there depositing
their treasures, prepared to explore this part of the cavern. This
passage they found grew wider as they advanced about a hundred feet,
when it enlarged into a lofty, spacious room remarkable for nothing
except being of an extraordinary size, and faintly lighted by an
opening in the top which permitted a few rays of light to penetrate and
soften the gloom below. This part of the cavern was evidently a natural
freak of nature, for they found no traces of hewn rock or precious ore.
From the opposite side of the cavern they found a low opening which, on
entering, they gradually descended winding round in a curve, the
passage enlarging a little until two could pass abreast without
stooping. Following this a distance of nearly two hundred feet they
were astonished to hear the roar of water which sounded like the
breaking of surf against rocks. The sound grew louder and louder as
they advanced, until its roar filled the cavern with stunning echoes
reverberating along its hidden passages. The cavern now became more
lofty and wider, the sides more rugged, and at last it terminated on
the brink of a stream which boiled and lashed its rock-girt sides with
its troubled waters. To attempt to penetrate further would have been
dangerous, and they retraced their steps. They concluded that they had
found a connexion with the lake above, which was some reward for
exploring that part of the cavern.
Chapter Seventeenth.
Recovery, and continuation of their journey. A joyous prospect. They
discover a Lake. It changes to gloom. Discovered and followed by
Indians. They finally escape, though compelled to leave their baggage,
&c.. They wander on, unconscious of their way. Discover a beautiful
valley, by which they encamp and rest themselves. Their journey
continued. They meet with friendly Indians, who offer them their
hospitality. The Indians give them cheering intelligence. They rest
with them a few days.
Six weeks had now elapsed, and they, with their horses, were fairly
recovered from the wearying effects of their journey over the desert,
and they were ready to launch once more on the unknown barren waste
before them. Large quantities of fish and fowl had been provided--some
by smoking, and others by drying--which, together with the fresh and
dried fruits and vegetables they had secured, they calculated would
last them five or six days. There were no animals of any kind,
consequently they had not such facilities for preparation of dried
meats as before; and being without any salt, it was both inconvenient
and difficult for them to preserve their provisions. Loading their
horses with what they had prepared, and with a supply of water and
grass, they set out on foot, for it would be impossible for the beasts
to carry them and the baggage, and they would be obliged to travel on
foot for two days at least, until the provisions were consumed
sufficiently to relieve the beasts of part of the weight. It was now
mid-summer: they knew that by the intense heat that poured its
scorching rays upon them so that they were obliged to halt before noon,
and entrench themselves behind a mass of rock they found, to protect
themselves from its burning rays. When the greatest heat of the day was
over, they again set out, and after an hour's travel, came in sight of
a dense forest, which they reached long before the sun had set. They
now laughed heartily at the idea of their sojourn on the oasis so long,
preparing with so much pains and anxiety for so short a journey.
Whithersoever they went they found the forest increasing in fertility,
and they knew by the extent of it this time, they had reached the main
land, and had really crossed an immense desert.
They were not all joyous feelings that agitated them that night; for on
every hand they saw traces of Indians, and should they prove to be
unknown, hostile tribes, they feared sad consequences. The night
passed, however, quietly enough; and when morning broke, they set out,
taking the precaution to move cautiously along, and though they often
came upon places where Indians had encamped to cook their meals, and
sometimes found the brands of fires still smoking, they had the good
fortune to travel three days without falling in with them. On the
fourth day, about noon, as they were turning the bend of a stream that
wound round a hill, they were suddenly confronted by a party of five
fierce looking savages, entirely naked, who seemed to be as much
surprised at the meeting as they were, for they stopped, glanced wildly
around them a moment, and then precipitately fled.
"Well, chief," said the trapper, "how do you like the looks of these
customers?"
"They are a people I know nothing of, and this is the first time they
have ever seen a pale face."
"I fear we have not mended matters by crossing the desert," said Jane,
sadly. "The sight of Indians does not speak well for our speedy return
to the land of civilization."
"Let not the antelope be fearful. Strong hearts and hands are still
around her," said the chief.
"Which can avail but little against the hordes of savages that infest
these wilds," remarked Jane.
"What is that Jane? You were lecturing me awhile ago, about doing our
best,--courage, &c.--and leaving the rest for time to unravel," said
Edward, cheerily.
"I am glad you reminded me of it," said Jane, "for the old feeling of
despair was fast creeping into my heart."
"I do not see anything to fear," remarked Sidney, "evidently the
savages are afraid of us, and if they are not, so long as they run away
from us, we are surely safe enough."
"You do not know the treachery of the Indians who apparently infest
these regions," said Jane. "Perhaps they are cannibals, and it would
then be terrible to fall into their hands."
"The Indians are not naturally treacherous; but the wrongs they have
endured have perverted their nature, and they meet treachery by the
treachery they have learned while smarting under it," said the trapper.
"The white chief speaks like one of us," said Whirlwind, proudly. "We
have endured wrong and suffering, and been submissive; but, at last,
goaded to resistance, our lands were drenched with the blood of our
wives and children, because our warriors dared to strike a blow for
freedom. All this we have suffered, and must finally suffer extinction,
while the pale faces will thrive on the soil enriched by our blood, and
to future ages hold us up as a nation notorious for all the vices and
crimes ever known, even that of drunkenness, which the Indian never
knew until the white man came to our then peaceful shores."
"You are not all treacherous, even now," said the trapper, "and whether
the tribe is to which these belong is for the future to determine. One
thing is certain, we must keep out of their hands if possible, and to
do this, we had better ride on as fast as we can, and place as great a
distance between us and them as we can before dark; for, if they
interfere with us, it will be undertaken after we are encamped for the
night."
Much to their relief, they were not molested, although they were kept
in constant excitement by seeing the Indians hanging on their trail,
keeping at a proper distance from them, halting when they halted, and
travelling when they travelled. This continued for several days, and
then the Indians entirely disappeared, greatly to the relief of our
wanderers.
For the last few days they had been travelling first in one direction
and then in another--alas! they knew not whither, perfectly bewildered.
They seemed to be disheartened in pursuing a regular course, and went
where their judgments dictated for the hour, perhaps retracing their
steps the next. One afternoon they came to a high, rolling part of the
forest, which terminated at the foot of a range of hills rearing their
heads in mural peaks, and on ascending them, they found that they
overlooked a beautiful plain below, in the centre of which a vast lake
stretched away over many miles, and lay nestled in that wilderness like
a gem in a setting of emerald. This lake was studded with numerous
islands which were heavily timbered, and formed a beautiful scene.
Taking a circuitous route so as to reach the lake in safety, they
encamped on its banks as the last rays of the setting sun were
reflected in golden gushes from its placid bosom and nestling isles. As
they gazed on the enchanting scene before them, it seemed as if nature
had reserved all her beauties for this chosen spot, denying to the vast
desert they had traversed fertility enough to make it inhabitable.
On the opposite side of the lake arose precipitous ridges, varying in
height from five hundred to a thousand feet, covered with the
balsam-pine, whose dark stately green, formed a magnificent contrast
with the graceful foliage of the aspen, which bordered the lake. A
curious phenomenon here attracted their attention. Beneath the
transparent waters of the lake were distinctly visible, trees of
enormous proportions, standing erect, with the leaves and branches
entire, looking as though they had grown there, or been sunken in their
watery bed. Making themselves a raft of dry wood, they explored every
part of the lake, and found beneath them in the water the same
forest-like appearance, and they concluded that the lake had once been
unobstructed, and that there had been an immense land-slide which had
precipitated itself from the ridge over which they had entered the
valley into the lake; part of the wood drifting on the surface, had
formed itself into the little isles, while the rest had become
submerged, and still rested at a great depth beneath the waters that
closed placidly over its topmost branches.
Innumerable fowl filled the branches of the trees in these isles, while
countless numbers of them were sporting in the water, undisturbed by
the intrusion of our wanderers. Evidently they had never seen man
before, and had yet to learn he would prey on their numbers to sustain
life. Here they also found the salmon trout, grown to great size, so
large that one was enough for a supper for the whole party. There were
also great quantities of tender grass which, growing undisturbed in a
constant shade, was as tender, and which the horses cropped with as
much avidity, as the grasses of early spring, although now the
mid-summer, with scorching sun, was upon them.
Not a trace of a native was visible, and the whole valley, nestled
among the high ridges on every side, had probably never before echoed
to the voice of civilized man, or the soil pressed by his foot, for
ages on ages--at least, by any race now known. Perhaps, too, thousands
of years ago a race knew of its existence, when the world was young, if
that time ever was. For the world is always young to the young, but
when old age comes on, it becomes hoary to his heart also. The heart of
every man is his world. When it is young, joyous, and happy, the world
is seen through the emotions that hold his soul in rosy meshes, and it
is thus tinged to his sight with youth, love, hope, and a joy that
fills the heart with a fulness and ecstasy of happiness that leaves
nothing further to be desired. Let the rosy meshes fall, and hoary age,
or the long list of hours of a misspent life, hold up another scene, in
which despair contends with the waning hours, and sombre clouds obscure
the future! Then the world is always old, always sad, hard, and cold;
and man learns too late that the beauty and gracefulness of age can be
only with the heart that is still young, though it has seen long
years--and that, to enjoy life to the latest hour, the heart must still
be kept green.
As enchanting as this valley was, they dared not spend a day in it
longer than was necessary, and with reluctance they left it to launch
forth, they knew not where. Crossing over the ridge, they came to a
high table land, broad, and over which a fresh pure air constantly
circulated. This was lightly timbered, and they feared another desert
was before them. They were, however, relieved from this fear by coming
to a high range of hills, which, on crossing, they found a succession
of ridges, the first ridge having hid the summits of the others; as
they crossed one after another, they became more and more entangled
among them, and continued for two days wandering among shady dells, and
over rocky, craggy precipices, until they sat down at night exhausted,
with their flesh torn by the thorns and stones over which they had made
their way. For the last two days, they had been unable to ride, the
ground being so broken that they found it quite as much as their beasts
were able to do, to make their way along unburthened, and now they were
lame, their hoofs being much bruised, and the flesh around the hoofs
swollen. Selecting a narrow defile, the best spot for a camp they could
find, they turned their horses loose to graze, having no fear they
would run away, and then turned to provide for their own wants.
This was soon over, and then they lay down to rest. When the morning
broke, their horses had disappeared, and on examining the trail where
they went, they discovered they had been led away in Indian file,
having been stolen by savages. Here, now, was new trouble for them;
for, without doubt, the Indians would hang around, and attack them,
perhaps, the first moment it suited them, or that they could be sure of
success.
"There was but a small party of them last night that stole the horses;
I am sure of that, and they will return with augmented numbers very
soon, or I shall be deceived," said the trapper.
"We can fight as well as they," said the chief; "so let them beware."
"Yes, we can do that; but we must get out of this spot. There is not an
uglier one in the whole continent to be attacked in," replied the
trapper.
"How can we get away? our horses gone, and if here, would be as
helpless almost as we are, and ourselves so worn out that very little
life is left in us," said Jane, in a desponding tone.
"While there is life there is hope," said the trapper. "Do not give up
so, we have passed too many severe trials to despair at the loss of our
horses."
"Than which, a greater calamity could not have happened," said Sidney;
"but, as uncle says, we must get out of this place, for if we are
obliged to defend ourselves, we shall stand but little chance of doing
it effectually, hemmed in here."
"Look! look! and save yourselves; we are too late!" cried Edward,
pointing upward towards the top of the precipice that overhung the
defile, and from which, as they raised their eyes, they saw a dozen
savages on its verge, in the act of hurling a shower of rocks upon
them.
The savages, seeing their whereabouts was discovered, set up an
unearthly yell, which was given back by the chief with one of defiance,
as he darted behind a tree, an act the rest had performed at the first
moment of alarm. The stones and arrows flew around them like hail, but
glancing against the large trunks of the trees behind which they were
entrenched, fell harmless at their feet. After keeping up this mode of
warfare upwards of an hour to no purpose, they held a council on the
cliff, and after a short debate dispersed again, but now about half of
the number began to let themselves down by catching hold of the
saplings that grew along the cliff, and bending them, held on to the
tops until they obtained a foothold several feet below, and then
repeating the operation until they were two-thirds down. The chief said
to Howe, "It will never do to let them among us--better pick them off
before they get down."
"So I think," returned the trapper; "you stop the swinging of the lower
one, and I will take the next."
Drawing their bows, two messengers of death hissed through the air,
propelled by strong, true hands, and the two lower savages fell to the
ground, striking on the very stones they had hurled down from the
summit, and were horribly crushed and mutilated. The rest seeing the
fate of their comrades, with a wild cry of alarm quickly swung
themselves up again, and the whole party precipitously fled. The
savages had evidently supposed they were unarmed, and on finding to the
contrary, had probably retired to take counsel how to more safely carry
their point.
"Now," said the chief, "is our time to save ourselves; for they are
exasperated at the loss of the two warriors, and will never rest
satisfied until they have destroyed us, if we remain within their
reach."
Starting down the ravine, for about a mile, they ascended a cleft-like
formation of the hills, which terminated at the base of an overhanging
precipitous ledge of rocks rising two hundred feet above them, with
rents occasionally along the line, extending from the top to the bottom
in yawning chasms, in one of which they hoped to shield themselves from
further pursuit. Ascending one of these chasms to the top of the ledge,
they saw the savages running to and fro along the valley in search of
them, having evidently lost the trail, much to their satisfaction, for
now they could gain on their pursuers.
Following up their present advantages, they descended the mountain on
the other side, and finding themselves at the foot of another less
lofty, ascended it also, from which they saw before them a beautiful
plain, level and well timbered, stretching away as far as the eye could
reach. It was now dark, and secreting themselves the best they could,
they spent the night supperless; for, alas! they had nothing to eat;
their whole stock of provisions, furs, gourds, kettle, and, indeed,
every article they had accumulated, being left behind them in their
flight from the savages. Very little game was to be found on the
mountains; but as day dawned, they struck out on the plain, hoping to
find abundance.
The sun had far advanced, and they had become faint and weary, when
they came to a stream which was filled with excellent fish, from which,
with some berries and roots, they made a plentiful repast. While
despatching this, deer came to the water to drink, and a fine doe was
shot by the trapper, much to their satisfaction. Cutting it up, they
shouldered it, and pursued their way. At nightfall they halted much
exhausted, and had the savages then found them, they would have fallen
an easy prey. But as they saw nothing of them they hoped they had
relinquished the pursuit.
The next and the next day, they found themselves too sore and lame to
move, and the third attempting to travel, they proceeded about three
miles, when they gave out, building a bough hut by a clear spring of
water, and resolved to stop until better fitted for travelling. No
traces of Indians were visible, and they now found their greatest foes
were beasts of prey, with which it seemed as if this part of the forest
was filled. They managed, however, to spend three weeks without
sustaining any serious injury from them, although they nightly prowled
around their camp.
The days now began to shorten perceptibly, and the nights to lengthen,
and the disagreeable truth forced itself upon them that the summer was
waning, and they were as far, for aught they knew, as ever, from
attaining the sole object of their lives,--their lost friends. Crossing
the plain which extended many miles, they came to another range of
hills which was so barren that they endeavored to avoid crossing it by
going around them, and with this object, followed them down two day's
journey, when they found the hills decreased to half their former
height, and assuming a more fertile appearance, so they started to go
over them. On arriving at the summit a scene of grandeur met their
vision, although it appalled the stoutest hearts. Before them,
stretching away in the distance and rising until its summit, capped
with snow, pierced the clouds, a range of mountains lay--a formidable
barrier over which they knew they ought not to go--and then came the
conviction that they had wandered to the foot of the great barrier that
separated the Pacific from the vast unexplored sandy desert, and the
snowy peaks that rose before them were those of the Sierra Nevada. Now
they were more certain of their whereabouts than they had been before;
for, though they had never seen the great Sierra, they had heard of it
often and knew the snows never left its summit, and to attempt to cross
it was a feat they had no disposition to undertake. They knew moreover,
that their friends were this side of the great Mountain, and that the
desert they had passed must consequently have been between them. Then
came the conviction that they had not wandered round the desert before
they had crossed it, as they supposed, but had been on the eastern side
instead of the western, and had from that moment been travelling
directly from home during the journey in which they had endured so
much, forced itself upon them. And yet, with the certainty of these
facts, they did not dare to turn back and retrace their steps, for to
do so in the bewildered and weakened state in which their minds and
bodies were, would be almost sure destruction, could they hope or
attempt to make their way through the territories of the savages that
they had so fortunately evaded in their journey thither.
Long they stood on the summit of that mountain, their position
commanding a view of the country for many miles around them,
overlooking everything but the great Sierra that lifted its hoary head
above them, as if commanding them to retreat. Awe and terror held them
in breathless silence for a while, when a half sob was heard, and Jane
pressed her hand tightly over her mouth to restrain the emotion which,
in her weakened state, she could not control. Seeing her distress, the
chief took her gently by the arm, and led the way down the mountain,
until they came to a spring, where they stopped, kindled a fire, cooked
their supper, and as the night air bid fair to be very cold before
morning, built a temporary shelter of boughs. With a large fire burning
to frighten beasts and dispel the damp air, they laid down to sleep.
Refreshed the next morning, they were better fitted to calmly reflect
on their condition than the night before; still they were unable to
form any decided course to pursue further than to remain through that
day near their present encampment. After breakfasting, they descended
to the valley, and there, to their surprise, found an encampment of
Indians. Frightened, they turned to ascend the mountain, when the
Indians came running towards them making unmistaken signs of
friendship.
"They are friendly tribes, thank Heaven! for it betokens assistance
when we least expected it," said Howe, joyfully, as he advanced to meet
them.
"You had better be careful, uncle, and not get in their power, as they
may prove treacherous," cried Jane.
The chief turned with a sorrowful look to her, and said,
"The pale faced maiden has no faith in the words of her darker skinned
brothers. Is it because they have wronged her people more than they
have suffered wrong; or because they dared in their manhood to defend,
to the last moment, the houses of their wives and children, and the
graves of their kindred?"
"No, no; not that, chief," said Jane, earnestly. "Why let such thoughts
forever disturb you? Some cannot be trusted, and these may be of the
number, for that reason I bade uncle be cautious. You, we never
suspected, and you wrong us in being so sensitive on this subject."
"It would be a fearful thing," returned the chief, "to see your race
and kindred blotted from existence, to see their homes and pleasant
places occupied by those who may be the cause of their extinction, and
to know when the last of the race shall have departed, their name will
be held synonymous with treachery and cruelty to futurity! Maiden!
maiden!" added he, with a wild look, distorting his dark features, "may
you never experience the torture of this feeling, nor the agony that
hourly and yearly is mine."
"Think you, chief, the sorrow you feel for the extinction of your
people is greater than that the people felt whom you extinguished in
ages gone by, and whose existence can be traced only by the works of
art they left behind them, which alone have survived, and still defy
ages to come?"
"Listen to me, girl; for I speak from the promptings of the _Great
Spirit_. The day may come when no longer our lands shall be yours, for
another race may arise and avenge my people by the extinction of your
own. You will be spared the torture of seeing it, as I do the struggles
of my people. Nevertheless, the day will come when this shall be." So
saying, with a hasty step and defiant brow, he turned from her, and
joined the group of Indians who were conversing with Howe, Sidney, and
Edward.
These Indians had evidently seen white men, or heard of them before;
but could not speak a word of English, or any dialect the wanderers
understood. They were, however, very communicative, and by signs and
lines drawn on pieces of bark, gave them to understand that two moons'
journey down the mountains was a pass over them, and on the other side
there were plenty of people like themselves. But as it was now getting
late in the season, they had better defer their journey until spring
came again. At the same time they offered to take them in their
village, and provide for them until they could depart in safety. They
would not listen to this proposition, but accepted with eagerness their
hospitality for a few days, in order to have an opportunity of making
further inquiries as to the route and locality of the country they
would have to pass through.
Chapter Eighteenth.
Thirty persons in the village. Their stay with the Indians. They
proceed on their journey. Jane bitten by a rattlesnake. Taken back to
the village. Frightful effects of the poison. It causes a violent fever
to set in. Fatal consequences apprehended. She becomes delirious. The
chief's unremitting exertions to counteract the disease. It slowly
abated and Jane finally recovers. A war party returns having two white
prisoners. Fears entertained of their safety. Minawanda assists them to
escape by a sound indicating that of a whippoorwill. The white men also
accompany them as guides. Their joy at their anticipated deliverance
from the wilds of the forests. Miscellaneous conversation. They proceed
on their flight unmolested.
There were about thirty persons in the lodges, the rest of the Indians,
with their women and children, having gone out on one of their yearly
hunting expeditions, as well for the excitement as for the supplies
which they gather from them. These few were left to look after the
village in the absence of the rest, and were principally those who were
too old or ill to travel and hunt. After remaining a few days to
prepare themselves, they set out, persuading an old Indian to accompany
them as a guide two days' journey, in order to get them once more
started in the right direction. They had no hope of returning directly
to their friends. In fact, they knew that would be an impossibility to
do by crossing the Sierra, and their object at that time was to find a
settlement where they might know their whereabouts, and in what
direction to go in order to return. The old Indian was positive there
were people like themselves over the mountain of snow, and knowing they
must have wandered a great way to come to it, they determined to make
the most direct route to the nearest European habitation; for they had
wandered so long that their friends had become a secondary object with
them. Their first thoughts were to free themselves from the
interminable forest, and sustain life.
About mid-day, as they were making their way among a thick growth of
brush, a quick rattle was heard, which they all recognized as the
warning of a deadly snake; but before they could save themselves, it
had struck its poisonous fangs deep into the fleshy part of Jane's
right foot.
Howe saw the snake bite her, and was at her side in a moment, and with
a heavy club killed the terrible reptile on the spot. He then proceeded
to bind the limb to prevent a free circulation of the blood, which in a
few minutes would have conveyed the poison to the heart, and proved
fatal. In the meantime, the chief and Sidney had been gathering an
herb, which they bruised between two flat stones and poured over the
wound, and put a few drops of the juice in her mouth.
She soon began to suffer excruciating pain, the limb swelling rapidly
and turning a livid hue, while the bruised herbs which were bound over
the wound every few minutes had to be exchanged for fresh ones, so
rapidly did the poison act upon them.
"I feel it here!" said the poor girl, laying her hand on her heart; "it
chokes, it suffocates me! Oh, it is terrible to die here! can you do
nothing more? can nothing save me?" she added, turning her eyes
inquiringly from one to the other of the group around her.
"We will do our best," said Sidney, "but that is very little," he added
bitterly.
"Be brave, my poor child and never say _die_ while there is life. As
yet I see nothing to fear. The Indian's remedy is doing its work; we
see that by the poison it extracts," said Howe, at the same time
turning aside to hide the emotion that was welling up from his heart.
"The antelope shall not die," said the chief, "there is another remedy
if the plant can be found," and with these words he hastened away into
the forest. Her breathing now became more labored, her eye grew glassy,
and languor began to pervade her whole frame. With breathless anxiety
they awaited the return of the chief; for, if even successful in
finding what he was in search of, he might be too late, as already life
was waning; and as they knelt around her in speechless agony, and saw
the distorted features and glassy eye, they knew that unless some
active and powerful stimulant could be procured immediately she would
be dead.
After twenty minutes' absence, though it seemed to them to be an hour,
the chief returned with his hands filled with roots freshly torn from
their bed, and laying them between two flat stones crushed them. Then
pressing the juice into a drinking cup they had procured at the Indian
village, held it to her lips. She made a motion as if she would drink,
but her limbs were powerless, her teeth set, and every muscle rigid.
With a low moan she closed her glassy eye, and hope then even fled from
her heart. Not so the chief; prying open her teeth with the aid of his
hunting-knife, he poured the extract down her throat, and then with a
solution of it mixed in water, washed the wound, binding over it the
bruised roots from which he had extracted the antidote. He then
procured more of the same roots,[11] extracted the juice and repeated
the process, continuing his efforts for half an hour, when she slowly
opened her eyes, looked around, and whispered faintly, "I shall not die
now, uncle. I breathe easier," then closed her eyes again with a sweet
smile playing around her lips.
[11] Rattlesnake root--Botanical, _Polygala senega_--being an
active stimulant, will counteract the bite of this most poisonous
of reptiles.
Still the chief did not for a moment relax his exertions; he knew too
well the subtlety of the poison of the rattlesnake, but while the rest
were active in building a soft couch of boughs and leaves on which to
lay her, he continued extracting the antidote with as much energy as at
the first moment.
Her skin now began to assume a more natural hue; the eye lost its
glassiness, and she could articulate with ease. An hour afterwards the
swelling began to subside, and the danger was past. The chief had again
saved her life.
He said not a word in exultation of his success, but it gleamed from
his dark eyes, flushed his swarthy cheek, and swelled his brawny chest.
Never strode he with loftier step or more regal carriage--a very
impersonation of barbarian royalty. His superior knowledge in many
emergencies into which they were brought in their primitive mode of
life, his coolness, courage and energy under the trying circumstances
that often occurred, commanded their voluntary reverence for the
untaught, uncivilized Indian chief. The day and night wore away, and
when they had hoped to resume their journey they found that a fever had
succeeded the prostration produced by the poison, and she was too ill
to travel. Dismayed at this new calamity, they were at a loss for
awhile how to proceed. Their guide settled the point for them by
insisting that the sick girl should be conveyed on a litter back to the
village, where she could have a better shelter, and where her wants
could be better supplied than in that lonely spot.
This they gladly acceded to, and when the sun again set she lay tossing
in feverish delirium on a couch of skins within the tent of Minawanda
their benevolent guide.
Cooling drinks were given her, and her throbbing, burning temples laved
with cold water, fresh from the fountain. This soothed the pain, but it
did not arrest the raging fever that burned in her veins, wasting her
strength, and reducing her to a state as helpless as that of infancy.
The women in the village were untiring in their exertions to alleviate
her suffering, and although they rendered her condition comparatively
comfortable, yet the fever grew higher and stronger each day, until she
became deprived of both reason and strength. The chief stood by the
door of her lodge day and night, apparently without observing anything
that was passing around him, and with the one feeling filling his
entire soul--that of the antelope lying at the point of death, and he
could do nothing to save her. Sidney was more active, and never left
her couch, save to procure something for her. He, with Edward by her
side, caressed her in her wild ravings until the excitement passed, and
she was again calm. Then they would renew their exertions to assuage
the fever, and cool the brain by laving it with water. It was all the
remedy they had, and they used this freely. The ninth day of her
illness the fever suddenly died away, and closing her eyes she slept as
peacefully as the sleep of infancy for half an hour, when her breathing
grew shorter, her chest heaved laboriously, and she unclosed her eyes,
from which the light of reason once more shone. She whispered faintly,
"Edward, come nearer; where are the rest of you? I feel so strangely!
is this death?"
"We are here--all here!" cried Sidney, with a broken voice; "and you
know us now, do you not, sister?"
"Yes, I know you now; but I feel so weak, and so strangely! have I been
sick long? I remember now," she added, "the snake bit me, and I am
poisoned, and shall die!"
"No, oh! no, you will not," said Howe, in his cheering tones; "you will
not do any such thing. You are a brave girl, and will live many a long
year yet. Here is a good draught for you, take it and keep quiet, and
you will be well in a few days," he added, as he presented her some
whey he had made from goats' milk and ripe grapes. Then ordering every
one from the lodge, he shut out the light, and stationing himself by
her side, bade her sleep, taking the precaution to arouse her every few
minutes to administer to her the whey. She slept at intervals till
sunset, when she again awakened perfectly conscious, and declared she
felt much better. She now improved rapidly, and in a week's time was
enabled to walk with assistance in the open air. Her appetite returned
which, together with the pure air, caused her rapidly to improve, and
regain her strength again; but they were at a loss in what manner to
prosecute their fatiguing journey with her. To set out on foot was out
of the question, as she would probably give out the first day, and to
be carried on a litter she would not consent to, as she rightly argued
it was as much as one was able to do to get himself along, without
carrying a burthen.
There was not a horse or a mule in the village, although the Indians
insisted that the hunting parties that had gone out had some with them,
and if they would await their return, they could obtain one for her.
While hesitating what course to pursue, shouts of the returning party
were heard from the summit of the hill, and were recognized as those
that betokened a great victory. The answer was taken up by every
inhabitant of the village, and echoed back in full chorus.
In half an hour, the Indians, in admirable confusion, came galloping
into the village, decorated in all the savage panoply of war; their
grotesque features made still more repulsive and hideous by the paint
with which they were besmeared. This, together with the shouts of the
women, and wild yells of the children, constituted a more vivid picture
of pandemonium than anything earthly.
One group of the returning party seemed to concentrate the curiosity of
the Indians in the village more than another, and going thither they
saw with surprise two white men confined as prisoners, their hands
bound behind them with leather thongs. They looked almost worn out with
fatigue and anxiety. Apprehensive for their own safety, they retreated
to the lodge of their guide, and there learned that these two men had
been captured three hundred miles south, and that they belonged to an
overland emigrant party, who, in a battle with the Indians, had all
been killed, with the exception of the two, and these, with the oxen,
horses, and baggage, had fallen into the hands of the savages, and were
conveyed to their village.
"This does not look well for our own safety," said Sidney.
"Not an arm will be raised against the pale faces who have eaten and
smoked beneath the lodge of Minawanda," said the guide, solemnly.
"Perhaps not, with your consent," retorted Sidney, "but they may not
think it worth while to ask it."
"The rights of hospitality are sacred with my people; let not the young
man fear; no harm will come to him," said the guide, indignantly.
"One thing is certain, a light is breaking on our path. We have found
some of our own race, though under unfavorable circumstances. Yet we
may learn from them how to find our homes," said the trapper,
encouragingly.
"If we get a chance to speak to them," said the chief, pointing
significantly towards a lodge whence rose the wail of despair for a
warrior who had gone out in the pride of manhood and returned not.
"They will be avenged for the warriors who fell in the fight with the
whites," he added, "and though they will respect us while guests of
Minawanda, they will hem us round so we cannot escape, at last falling
into their hands, if the blood of the two prisoners do not satisfy the
bereaved friends of their lost warriors."
"We must deceive them some way and slip away privately," said the
trapper, in a subdued voice as the guide left the lodge, and wended his
way over to the lodges whence proceeded the mournful sounds.
"Let us fly from here, now we are alone and free," said Jane,
nervously. "The deepest recess of the forest is preferable to staying
here."
"We cannot do that; we should be discovered, brought back, and strictly
guarded, and thus be frustrated in all our chances of escaping. No, no;
we want some of their horses to give us a start, besides several hours
of the night to cover our retreat," said the chief.
"Besides this," said the trapper, "it is hardly a Christian act to
leave these two men to perish by the hands of the savages. I do not
think they will offer us any harm, and we may not only effect their
escape peacefully, but induce the Indians to carry us to the nearest
settlement with their horses. We must keep a strict and vigilant watch,
and see which way things turn, and act accordingly."
The day passed and the sun had set, yet Minawanda had not returned to
his lodge, from which the wanderers had not ventured for fear of
further exasperating the Indians. This occurrence troubled them, and in
truth looked ominous, as it had never occurred before, and with great
impatience they watched for his coming. Still, hour after hour passed,
and he came not, and with forebodings of evil, they proposed that one
of them should reconnoitre the village under the cover of darkness to
discover what was brewing among them. The chief volunteered his
services, as possessing a subtlety which was unequalled, and with his
noiseless tread, he went silently forth; but, before he had gone twenty
yards from the door a hand was laid on his shoulder, and the voice of
the guide whispered in his ear, "return to the lodge! your life depends
upon it. I will be there in an hour!"
The chief stood irresolute a moment, then as silently returned to the
lodge and related the circumstance, and asked the advice of the rest
whether he had better wait or proceed.
"I think Minawanda is our friend, and we had better do his bidding,"
said the trapper.
Silently they remained a few moments, when the sound of a light step
fell on their ear, and the _Fawn_, a child of twelve years, and a
daughter of the guide stepped within the lodge, and with a startled
look stood irresolute for a moment, then going up to Jane, nestled
close to her side fixing her dark starry eyes on hers with a bewildered
gaze.
"What would you with me?" inquired the young girl, as she endeavored to
reassure her.
"My father can no longer protect the white strangers," she replied,
"but he can save them if they will place themselves under his
directions."
"What says the young squaw?" asked the chief, whose acute ear had
caught the low tones of the child.
Jane repeated what the fawn had said, when the trapper placed himself
by her side and demanded what they were to do.
"I do not know, except that, when the Whippoorwill is heard behind the
lodge, you are all to go out silently, and as the cry is heard, you are
to follow the sound until you meet others who will be in waiting for
you----"
"To lead us to the stake!" said the chief. "Is my brother mad, that he
listens to this chattering, and will he run into the snare laid to
entrap him?"
"Really, chief, you see through the treachery of these savages better
than any one else, and do credit to your education," said Sidney.
"We will not go to them to be murdered in the dark," said Edward. "If
they want anything of us, here we are, and here we will be until
daylight."
"It will then be too late," said the fawn, sadly. "My father bade me
say the two pale faced prisoners would be there, and when day broke,
and it was found they had escaped, my people could not be restrained,
but would sacrifice you in their stead. He would have come himself to
tell you this, but feared to be from the council that has been held,
for fear of suspicion, as it is known to all the returned hunters that
you are in his lodge."
"I do not believe that Minawanda meditates treachery," said Howe. "If
he wanted to give us up, why take the precaution? He knows we are in
his lodge, and he could lead his warriors to take us any moment, if
that was his object. I think he is sincere, and, for one, am willing to
place myself in his hands."
"I, too, am willing to trust him," said Jane. "We cannot make matters
worse, and it may be the means of our return to our friends. The sight
of others inspires hope, and if we could get away with them, they could
probably lead us out of the forest."
Their conversation was here cut short by the clear shrill notes of the
Whippoorwill, close behind the lodge.
"There it is," cried the fawn, bounding to her feet. "Go! go! do not
hesitate, or you will be lost!"
"Come," said the trapper, taking Jane by the hand; "I feel assured
there is truth in that child's face. Let us hasten on."
"If you go, I do," said Edward; "I can stand as much, and more than you
can."
"And I," said Sidney.
"If the antelope goes, I will go to defend her," said the chief,
following, as the trapper, with Jane, moved away in the darkness, in
the direction whence the sound had come. Hurrying into the thick forest
that skirted the back of the lodge, they were at a loss which direction
to take, when again some distance ahead the shrill cry burst on their
ears, and they noiselessly and rapidly advanced as near as they could
imagine a quarter of a mile, when it was again heard ahead of them.
Still following, they travelled about the same distance again, when the
hand of Minawanda was laid on Howe's arm, as he said--"Stand still a
moment!--I will apprise the others of your presence!" and disappearing
in the darkness, they heard him talking low, but rapidly, for a few
moments; then he once more stood before them, and bidding them follow,
led them on a short distance where, by the faint glimmer of starlight,
they saw men and a number of horses standing. "Mount!" said Minawanda;
"there are horses for all. Here is the best one for the young squaw;"
so saying, he lifted Jane from the ground, and seated her firmly on her
horse's back--and placing the bridle in her hand, turned to assist the
rest; but they had all mounted, and were waiting directions which way
to proceed. Up to this moment they had not heard the voices nor seen
the forms of those who were to accompany them, save by the dusky
outlines which did not even reveal the number, and so quiet and rapidly
had the whole transpired, that they had no time to think of anything.
"Guides! move on!" said Minawanda; "follow, brothers, they will lead
you to your own people--and when there, forget not that a generous,
disinterested deed may be performed by an Indian, although he risks
life in so doing." So saying, he shook hands with them all in rapid
succession, and darting away, they were alone with the guides, whom
they saw were two in number, and mounted like themselves.
"Well, Jones," one of them said, in a very subdued tone, "if this is
not one of the queerest pieces of work I ever saw, then call me an
Arab."
"Never mind, Cole," the other answered, "push ahead as fast as you can,
or the Indians will broil us yet. We must get a good start to cheat the
rascally red-skins."
"Hush about the broiling, you make me nervous. How about our company?
All there?" again sung out the one called by his companion, Jones.
"Here! all right; five of us, following we do not know who, nor where
he will lead us to," said Howe, in a merry tone.
"Don't know? Well, perhaps you never heard of Jones, son of old Major
Jones, away down in old Connecticut. That is me, and I guess you will
not be sorry you are following me, especially as Cole says, we were all
to be broiled in a heap by those red skins."
"That I shall not, and right glad I am of your services to help us out
of as deep an entanglement as I think ever a set of Christians got
into," said the trapper.
"Well, I do not know, but I guess we will cheat them; the moon will be
up soon, and then we can ride faster," replied Jones.
"Are you sure of the way you have to go?" asked Sidney, who was still
nervous about getting bewildered in the forest.
"I guess I am," replied Jones. "Did I not come over it this morning?"
"Yes, but you might miss your way," returned Sidney.
"Might miss! Why young man, where was you educated, to learn the
possibility of doing such a thing? There is no such word as failing to
a downeaster."
"I think you must have failed once, or you would not be here," retorted
Sidney, facetiously.
"The best failure for us that was ever made," said Jane, earnestly. "We
shall find our way out by that means."
"Only that object is attained, I do not care for the rest," remarked
Edward. "See yonder the moon is rising, and welcome enough will be its
light."
They made their way quite rapidly, and as mile after mile was placed
between them and the village, their hopes of eluding their pursuers
were strengthened. Jane did not feel the fatigue, so excited had she
become, although, Howe had taken the precaution soon after they
started, of riding close by her side, so that he could assist her at a
moment's warning; for he knew she was too weak to bear such rapid
travelling over fallen trees, stones, brush, and marshy ground long,
and he feared that a reaction would ensue. He did not know how strongly
the love and desire to reach home again burned in her heart,
strengthening by its power every muscle and nerve.
Chapter Nineteenth.
They arrive at a stream of considerable magnitude over which they
cross. Encampment on its bank. They ride in the water to elude their
pursuers. Jones and Cole give them some information relative to their
friends, having met Lewis at Fort Laramie. The joyful reception of the
news. Desire to return. The lateness of the season prevents it. They
continue on. Arrival at the base of the Sierra Nevada. Fear of crossing
the mountains in the snow. They retreat to a place of security with
intentions to encamp for the winter. They construct themselves winter
quarters as well as they can.
At daylight the fugitives came to a considerable stream which they
crossed and halted on the opposite bank. They turned their horses loose
to feed and rest, and taking some fish from the stream by means of
shooting them with their arrows,[12] they broiled them. The fish,
together with some roasted _yampa_ roots, made a plentiful and
nourishing repast. Letting their horses rest as long as they dared,
they mounted and entering the stream, followed it down a mile, so as to
deceive the Indians, should they be pursued, then again taking to the
bank they rode with great speed, until their beasts began to flag, when
again halting on a position that overlooked the country around, they
prepared themselves a dinner, turning their horses loose to graze while
they ate. After partaking of their meal, Jane fortunately fell asleep,
and when they feared to remain in that position, they awoke her, and
proceeded on till late in the night. Again halting, and posting a
sentinel who was relieved every two hours, they lay down to sleep, for
they were worn out with their rapid marches. At the first faint streak
of light, they were in motion, and thus pursuing their way rapidly for
three more days, they were glad to halt, as their horses were
emaciated, lame, and sore, and were scarcely able to keep their feet,
so galling and toilsome had been their journey.
[12] A common mode of taking fish among the Indians.
They calculated they had saved themselves from pursuit, and accordingly
prepared for a few days' rest which was made doubly sweet to them by
the prospect of the dear home and friends which loomed up before them.
Building a temporary shelter, they spent several days in that place and
became more acquainted with their two new companions. Jones was a
curiosity in himself, fearing nor caring for nothing but being broiled
alive, a fate for which he evinced the utmost repugnance, and declared
he would be willing to adopt any emergency than encounter it, an
alternative they all coincided heartily in, with the exception of Cole,
who expressed a decided belief that it was preferable to many things,
and delighted to hold up its advantages, but what they were he never
specified to his more sensitive companion.
They were both from Connecticut and had been some years sailors, their
ship having been driven and wrecked by winds on the Pacific coast they
were obliged to content themselves as best they could; and as they
enjoyed a large share of constitutional Yankee restlessness, sought to
turn their misfortunes to some account. While waiting for relief they
explored the deep unbroken wilds that surrounded them. In doing this
they encountered many difficulties, and often hazarded their lives, but
were rewarded by finding, as they asserted, gold mines scattered over a
large district. Returning home by an overland route with specimens of
the ore, they had induced others to return with them, accompanied by
their families, their object being to take up the land on which the
precious metal was found and settle it, guessing with characteristic
shrewdness that as soon as it was known in the Eastern States that
there was gold in the place, the land would be of immense value.
There were eleven of them all, two women and two children, one ten and
the other twelve years old; the rest being well calculated for such a
daring enterprise. It was their intention to keep the same Indian trail
back they had gone over in returning home, trusting to memory to keep
them from straying. When their journey was two-thirds accomplished the
Indians had come unawares upon them and after fighting as long as they
could hold out, all were killed but these two, who were made prisoners
with all their baggage. "It was a struggle for life, and two days we
kept them at bay," said Jones, "but we were one after another picked
off until but five of us were left, when the savages maddened by the
sight of their killed and wounded which must have been in great
numbers, closed around us and we fought hand to hand for a few minutes,
when Cole and myself were overpowered, disarmed and captured, the rest
were killed, scalped, and their dead bodies left on the ground unburied
to become a prey to beasts scarcely more savage than the Indians. Our
fate was decided on in council the same evening we were taken to the
village. We were sentenced to run the gauntlet.[13] If we survived we
were to become part of the tribe to supply the places of the lost
warriors; if we fell, the stake awaited us. We looked upon ourselves as
doomed, when an old Indian came to us, and displacing the thongs with
which we were bound, bade us follow him. The rest you know, and we are
here together."
[13] The gauntlet consists in drawing up the members of the
village in two files facing each other four feet apart, through
which the victim has to make his way, the Indians striking at him
as he runs with clubs, knives, tomahawks or any weapon they
choose to arm themselves with. Not one out of a hundred get
through the file, and if they do they are sure to meet with
kindness; but if beaten down they are either killed on the spot
or carried wounded and bleeding to the stake where they perish
amidst horrible tortures.
"For which I am really grateful," said the trapper, who informed them
of the principal events of their wandering for the last year and
a-half. They listened with great interest until the recital was
finished, and then Jones said, musingly, "It must be that you are the
same of whom we heard so much, more than a year ago, although your
friends believed you had perished by the cruel hands of the Indians."
"Then you have seen them! Are they well? Have they removed from the
encampment by the brook?" and numberless other questions were showered
in a breath upon them.
"One at a time," said the imperturbable Yankee; "one at a time, and I
will answer them all."
"Then, are they alive and well?" asked Jane, who could not restrain her
anxiety.
"They are, as far as I know," said Jones. "I saw but one they called
Lewis, and he was well, and I heard him tell another man who was
inquiring for the rest of the family that the rest were.
"Thank heaven for that," said Jane, fervently.
"Where are they?" asked the trapper.
"I don't know, exactly," said Jones. "The young man I saw was at Fort
Laramie. He had heard there were several distant tribes of Indians
encamped there to trade with the whites, and had come to see if he
could learn from them the fate that had befallen you."
"Then I suspect," said the trapper, "they have remained near the spot
where they were encamped when we were stolen."
"Who is the chief of the Arapahoes?" asked Whirlwind.
"I think he is called the Bald Eagle, but I don't remember distinctly.
When I passed through their country last spring, I heard about a great
Medicine man, who was likewise their chieftain, who had been killed or
carried away at the same time part of the family of Mr. Duncan had."
"This is the chief," said the trapper, "he still lives, and I hope will
for many a long year yet to come."
"That would be great news for the Arapahoes," said Cole, "and their joy
could scarcely be exceeded by that of Mr. Duncan's family, could they
know their lost ones were safe."
They had somewhat recovered from the fatigues of their flight, and
proposed renewing their journey. The autumn, which was far advanced,
warned them it was time to be on the move, if they intended to reach
the haunts of civilization before the snows began to fall, and as Cole
and Jones assured them they would certainly strike a trail that led to
the Pacific coast in three or four days' travel, they were impatient to
be on the move. They suffered much with the cold, as the nights were
keen enough to create ice an inch in thickness, and the frosts
destroyed a great deal of the herbage on which the horses subsisted.
The third day the sky began to grow heavy in the morning, and as the
air was keen they feared snow would fall, but it partially broke away
before night, greatly to their satisfaction. They lay down by their
camp-fire with the stars gleaming, though faintly, above them.
About midnight they were awakened by flakes of snow falling on their
faces, and on awaking, they discovered the ground white around them.
Before morning the white covering was three inches deep. The winter had
set in uncommonly early, and they with saddened hearts rode all day
through the falling snow. Night came on, and scraping the ground clear
of leaves and snow, they built themselves a temporary shelter, leaving
one side open, by which the camp-fire was built. They had nothing to
eat, having laid by no supply of roots or meat, and the ground was
covered with snow so that the roots could not be found. Leaving Sidney,
Edward, and Jane in the camp, the rest went out to get some game, and
in half an hour the trapper returned with a pair of wild turkeys. He
was followed soon by Cole who brought some pheasants and a grey
squirrel. As the shades of night began to gather around them, the
others came in with a fawn and a mountain sheep. There was no fear then
of their being supperless; and, after eating a hearty meal, they laid
down to sleep with the snow still falling around them. When they awoke
in the morning the sky was clear and the sun arose warm, and by noon
had softened the snow so much as to make it wet their clothing, as they
brushed it from the pendant branches in riding along. When they
encamped that night, Jane was shivering with cold, and too ill to eat;
but the rest lay by the fire, and slept as well as the disagreeable
situation in which they were placed would allow. Jane was quite ill the
next day, and they did not think it prudent to travel; but by night she
felt much better, and as they calculated they could strike the trail in
another day's journey, they determined to be in the saddle by daylight.
Riding, as fast as the rugged uneven country through which they were
travelling would permit, for three hours, they came to the trail
earlier in the day than they had anticipated, greatly to their relief.
Here now they were on a road that would lead them to their friends from
which they had so long been separated, during which time they had
encountered so many trials and so much suffering. The sight of it
dispelled all fatigue from them, and they were ready, nay, eager, to
turn their horses homeward. They were restrained from such mad
proceedings by the cool, undisturbed equanimity of Jones, who said:
"The journey home requires three months' hard travelling, and if we
undertake it in our present unprepared condition, we shall certainly
perish by cold and hunger. On the other hand the trail in the opposite
direction, will lead us to a safe harbor, in a third of the distance
which, when accomplished, we shall be willing to stay in till spring
comes again. It is always dangerous travelling through these wilds when
prepared, but in our destitute condition it is most hazardous."
"Lead us on; we can endure it," cried the children, enthusiastically.
"No, no; children," said the trapper, "Jones tells the truth, we can
never cross the country that lies between us and our friends, in the
dead of winter. We must content ourselves in a place of security, if we
can find one, until spring again comes."
"Yonder," said the chief, pointing towards the west, where the Great
Sierra arose with its snowy peaks towering among the clouds, "are the
Snow mountain. To reach the white settlement beyond we must cross it.
We are too weak and destitute to do it. Let us build a lodge here and
gather what provisions we can before the snow is deeper, and the deer
all leave us."
"I believe it is the best thing we can do, for our safety," said the
cautious trapper.
"Oh! no; do not think of such a thing!" said Sidney. "I am sure we can
cross the mountain, and when over them, it cannot be far to civilized
habitations."
"You are young and sanguine," said the trapper, "and do not know the
dangers before you."