A "Weed"-Prairie on Fire.
My recovery was rapid. My wounds, though deep, were not dangerous; they
were only flesh-wounds, and closed rapidly under the cauterising
influence of the _lechuguilla_. Rude as my doctors were, in the matter
of such a malady, I could not have fallen into better hands. Both,
during their lives of accident and exposure, had ample practice in the
healing art; and I would have trusted either, in the curing of a
rattle-snake's bite, or the tear of a grizzly bear's claw, in preference
to the most accomplished surgeon. Old Rube, in particular, thoroughly
understood the simple pharmacopoeia of the prairies; and his application
to my wounds of the sap of the _pita_ plant, obtained among the rocks of
the ravine, bespoke his skill. This plant, a bromelia, is of the same
genus as the _Agave Americana_, and by travellers often confounded with
the latter, though quite a distinct plant from the _maguey_ of
cultivation. It grows in most parts of Mexico and South America,
extending as far north as the latitude of 30 degrees, and even farther.
There is no spot too arid or barren to give support to it. It is a true
desert plant; and even on the naked rock, its curved and thorny blades
may be seen radiating on all sides from the tall flower-stalk, that
shoots upward like a signal-staff, to the height of twenty feet. As
already observed, its uses are manifold: the fibre of its leaves can be
manufactured into thread, cordage, and cloth; fences are constructed of
the growing plant, and thatch of the blades when cut; its sap,
distilled, furnishes the fiery but not unwholesome mezcal; and the large
egg-shaped core or stem is eaten for food. Tribes of Indians--Lipans,
Comanches, and Apaches--use it extensively as an article of diet. One
branch of the great Apache nation are distinguished--"_Mezcaleros_"
(eaters of the mezcal-plant). They bake it in ground-ovens of heated
stones, along with the flesh of the wild-horse. It is firm when cooked,
with a translucent appearance like candied fruits. I have eaten it; it
is palatable--I might say delicious. The mastication of it is
accompanied by a prinkling sensation upon the tongue, singular to one
unaccustomed to it. It is a gift of nature to the desert regions--where
it grows in greatest luxuriance, and where it serves the same purpose in
the economy of the savage natives as the _ixias, mesembryanthemums_, and
_zarnias_ (the Caffre bread), upon the arid karoos of Southern Africa.
One of the most esteemed qualities of this bromelia is the cauterising
property of its juice--well known to the natives of the Mexican
table-land, and to the Peruvians, where several species are found of
like virtues. It will cause ordinary wounds to cicatrise in a few
hours, and even "ugly gashes" will yield to it in time.
My companions had full knowledge of its effects; and, having extracted
the sap from its large succulent leaves, and boiled it to the
consistency of honey, they applied it to my wounds. This operation they
from time to time repeated, and the scratches were healed in a period
marvellously short. My strength, too, was soon restored. Garey with
his gun catered for the cuisine, and the ruffed grouse, the prairie
partridge, and roasted ribs of fresh venison, were dainties even to an
invalid.
In three days I was strong enough to mount; and bidding adieu to our
camping-ground, we all three set forth, taking with us our beautiful
captive. He was still as wild as a deer; but we had adopted precautions
to prevent him from getting away from us. The trappers led him between
them, secured to the saddles of both by a lazo.
We did not return in the direction of our old trail; my companions knew
a shorter route--at least one upon which we should sooner reach water--
and that is the most important consideration on a prairie-journey. We
headed in a more westerly direction; by which, keeping in a straight
line, we expected to strike the Rio Grande some distance above the
rancheria.
The sky was leaden-grey--the sun not being visible--and with no guide in
the heavens, we knew that we might easily diverge from a direct course.
To provide against this, my companions had recourse to a compass of
their own invention.
On taking our departure from camp, a sapling was stuck into the ground,
and upon the top of this was adjusted a piece of bear's-skin, which,
with the long hair upon it, could be distinguished at the distance of a
mile or more. The direction having been determined upon, another wand,
similarly garnished with a tuft of the bear's-skin, was set up several
hundred yards distant from the first.
Turning our backs upon these signal-posts, we rode off with perfect
confidence, glancing back at intervals to make sure we were keeping the
line. So long as they remained in sight, and _aligned_ with each other,
we could not otherwise than travel in a straight path. It was an
ingenious contrivance, but it was not the first time I had been witness
to the ingenuity of my trapper-friends, and therefore I was not
astonished.
When the black tufts were well-nigh hidden from view, a similar pair--
the materials for which had been brought along--were erected; and these
insured our direction for another stretch of a mile; then fresh saplings
were planted; and so on, till we had passed over six miles of the plain.
We now came in sight of timber right ahead of us, and apparently about
five miles distant. Towards this we directed our course.
We reached the timber about noon, and found it to consist of black-jack
and post-oak groves, with mezquite and wild china-trees interspersed,
and here and there some taller trees of the honey-locust (_Gleditschia
triacanthos_). It was not a close forest, but a succession of groves,
with openings between--avenues and grassy glades.
There were many pleasant spots, and, faint with the ride, I would fain
have chosen one of them for a resting-place; but there was no water, and
without water we could not halt. A short distance farther, and we
should reach a stream--a small _arroyo_, an affluent of the Rio Grande.
So promised my companions, and we rode onward.
After passing a mile or so through the timber-openings, we came out on
the edge of a prairie of considerable extent. It was full three miles
in diameter, and differed altogether from the plain we had left behind
us. It was of the kind known in hunter phraseology as a
"weed-prairie"--that is, instead of having a grassy turf, its surface
was covered in a thick growth of flowering-plants, as _helianthus,
malvas, altheas, hibiscus_, and other tall annuals standing side by
side, and frequently laced together by wild-pea vines and various
species of convolvulus. Such a flower-prairie was the one now before
us, but not a flower was in sight; they had all bloomed, faded, and
fallen--perhaps unseen by human eye--and the withered stalks, burned by
a hot sun, looked brown and forbidding. They tracked and broke at the
slightest touch, their seed-pods shelling their contents like rain upon
the loose earth.
Instead of striking across this prairie, we skirted around its edge; and
at no great distance arrived on the banks of the arroyo.
We had made but a short march; but my companions, fearful that a longer
ride might bring on fever, proposed to encamp there for the night, and
finish our journey on the following day. Though I felt strong enough to
have gone farther, I made no objection to the proposal; and our horses
were at once unsaddled and picketed near the banks of the arroyo.
The stream ran through a little bottom-valley covered with a sward of
grass, and upon this we staked our steeds; but a better place offered
for our camp upon the higher ground; and we chose a spot under the shade
of a large locust-tree, upon the edge of the great wilderness of weeds.
To this place we carried our saddles, bridles, and blankets, and having
collected a quantity of dead branches, kindled our camp-fire.
We had already quenched our thirst at the stream, but, although we were
all three hungry enough, the dried flesh of the grizzly bear proved but
a poor repast. The rivulet looked promising for fish. Garey had both
hooks and line in his "possible sack," and I proposed the angle.
The young trapper soon baited his hooks; and he and I, repairing to the
stream, cast our lines, sat down, and waited for a nibble.
Fishing was not to Rube's taste. For a few minutes he stood watching
us, but evidently with little interest, either in the sport, or what it
might produce. Rube was not a fish-eater.
"Durn yur fish!" exclaimed he at length: "I'd ruther hev a hunk o'
deer-meat than all the fish in Texas. I'll jest see ef I kin scare up
somethin; the place looks likely for deer--it do."
So saying, the old trapper shouldered his long rifle, and stalking off
up the bank, was soon out of sight.
Garey and I continued bobbing with but indifferent success.
We had succeeded in drawing out a couple of cat-fish, not the most
palatable of the finny tribe, when the crack of Rube's rifle sounded in
our ears. It seemed to come from the weed-prairie, and we both ran up
on the high bank to ascertain what success had attended the shot.
Sure enough, Rube was out in the prairie, nearly half a mile distant
from the camp. His head and shoulders were just visible above the tall
stalks of the helianthus; and we could see, by his stooping at
intervals, that he was bending over some game he had killed, skinning or
cutting it up. The game we could not see, on account of the interposed
culms of the weeds.
"A deer, I reck'n," remarked Garey. "Buffler don't often o' late years
stray so far to the southert, though I've killed some on the Grande,
higher up."
Without other remark passing between us, we descended to the arroyo, and
recommenced our fishing. We took it for granted that Rube did not
require any aid, or he would have signalled to us. He would soon return
with his game to the camp.
We had just discovered that silver-fish (a species of _hyodori_) were
plentiful in the stream, and this kept our attention fixed. We were
desirous of taking some of them for our dinner, knowing them to be
excellent eating, and far superior to the despised "cat."
Having changed our bait for some small pieces of gold-lace, which my
uniform furnished, we succeeded in pulling several of these beautiful
creatures out of the water; and were congratulating one another upon the
delicious broil we should have, when our conversation was suddenly
interrupted by a crackling noise, that caused both of us to turn our
faces towards the prairie.
The sight that met our eyes prompted us to spring simultaneously to our
feet. Our horses already reared upon their lazoes--neighing with
affright--and the wild screams of Rube's mustang-mare were loud and
continuous. There was no mystery about the cause; that was obvious at a
glance. The wind had blown some sparks among the dry flower-stalks.
The weed-prairie was on fire!
Though startled at the first sight of the conflagration, for ourselves
we had nothing to fear. The bottom on which we stood was a sward of
short buffalo-grass; it was not likely to catch fire, and even if it
did, we could easily escape from it. There is not much danger in a
burning prairie where the grass is light and short; one can dash through
the line of flame, with no greater injury than the singeing of his hair,
or a little suffocation from the smoke; but upon a plain covered with
rank and thick vegetation, the case is very different. We therefore
felt no apprehension for ourselves, but we did for our companion; _his_
situation filled us with alarm.
Was he still where we had last seen him? This was the first question we
asked one another. If so, then his peril was great indeed; his escape
would be almost hopeless!
We had observed him a full half-mile out among the weeds, and on foot
too. To have attempted a retreat towards the opposite side of the
prairie, would have been folly: it was three miles off. Even on
horseback, the flames would have overtaken him! Mounted, or on foot, he
could not have got out of the way through those tall stalks--laced as
they were by pea-vines and other trailing plants--whose tough tangle
would have hindered the progress even of the strongest horse!
To have returned to the near side would be his only chance; but that
would be in the very face of the fire, and, unless he had started long
before the flames broke out, it was evident that his retreat in that
direction would be cut off. As already stated, the weeds were as dry as
tinder; and the flames, impelled by gusts of wind, at intervals shot out
their red tongues, licking up the withered stalks, coiling like serpents
around them, and consuming them almost instantaneously.
Filled with forebodings, my companion and I ran in the direction of the
prairie.
When first noticed by us, the fire had extended but a few yards on each
side of the locust-tree we had chosen for our camp. We were not
opposite this point at the moment, having gone a little way down the
arroyo; we ran, therefore, not towards the camp, but for the nearest
point of high ground, in order to discover the situation of our friend.
On reaching the high ground, about two hundred yards from the locust, we
saw to our astonishment that the fire had already spread, and was now
burning forward to the spot where we had climbed up!
We had only a moment to glance outward, when the conflagration, hissing
and crackling as it passed, rolled in front of us, and with its wall of
flame shut off our view of the prairie.
But that glance had shown us all, and filled our hearts with sorrow and
dismay; it revealed the situation of the trapper--no longer a situation
of peril, but, as we supposed, of certain death!
He was still in the place where we had last seen him; he had evidently
made no attempt to escape from it. Perhaps the knowledge that such an
attempt must have failed, and hindered him from making it. The
reflection that he might as well die where he stood, as be licked up by
the flames in the act of fleeing from them, had bound him to the spot,
wavering and undecided!
Oh! it was a dread sight to see that old man, hardened sinner that he
was about to be snatched into eternity!
I remember his wild look, as the red flame, roiling between us, shut him
from our sight! We saw him but for a single instant: his head and
shoulders were alone visible above the tall weeds. He made no sign
either with voice or arm; but I fancied that even at that distance I
could read his glance of despair!
Was there no hope? Could no exertion be made to rescue him? Could he
do nothing for himself? Was there no chance of his being able to clear
a circle round him, and burn off a space before the line of fire could
come up? Such a ruse has often availed, but no--never in such a ground
as that! The weeds were too thick and tall--it could not be done--Garey
said it could not be done.
There was no hope, then. _The old trapper was lost_!