In the midst of my meditations, night descended upon the earth. It
promised to be a moonless night. A robe of sable clouds formed a sombre
lining to the sky, and through this neither moon nor stars were visible.
It grew darker apace, until in the dim light I could scarcely
distinguish the forms of my companions--neither men nor horses, though
both were near me.
The men were still asleep, stretched along the grass in various
attitudes, like so many bodies upon a battle-field. The horses were too
hungry to sleep--the constant "crop-crop" told that they were greedily
browsing upon the sward of gramma-grass that, by good fortune, grew
luxuriantly around. This would be the best rest for them, and I was
glad to think that this splendid provender would in a few hours recruit
their strength. It was the _chondrosium foeneum_, the favourite food of
horses and cattle, and in its effects upon their condition almost equal
to the bean or the oat. I knew it would soon freshen the jaded animals,
and make them ready for the road. At least in this there was some
consolation.
Notwithstanding the pre-occupation of my thoughts, I began to be
sensible of a physical discomfort, which, despite their low latitude, is
often experienced upon the southern prairies--cold. A chill breeze had
set in with the night, which in half-an-hour became a strong and violent
wind, increasing in coldness as in strength.
In that half-hour the thermometer must have fallen at least fifty
Fahrenheit degrees; and such a phenomenon is not rare upon the plains of
Texas. The wind was the well-known "_norther_" which often kills both
men and animals, that chance to be exposed to its icy breath.
I have endured the rigour of a Canadian winter--have crossed the frozen
lakes--have slept upon a snow-wreath amidst the wild wastes of Rupert's
Land; but I cannot remember cold more intensely chilling than that I
have suffered in a Texan norther.
This extreme does not arise from the absolute depression of the
thermometer--which at least is but a poor indicator of either heat or
cold--I mean the sensation of either. It is more probably the contrast
springing from the sudden change--the exposure--the absence of proper
clothing or shelter--the state of the blood--and other like
circumstances, that cause both heat and cold to be more sensibly felt.
I had ofttimes experienced the chill blast of the norther, but never
more acutely than upon that night. The day had been sweltering hot--the
thermometer at noon ranging about the one-hundredth Fahrenheit degree,
while in the first hour of darkness it could not have been far above the
twentieth. Had I judged by my sensations, I should have put it even
lower. Certainly it had passed the freezing-point, and sharp sleet and
hail were borne upon the wings of the wind.
With nerves deranged from want of rest and sleep--after the hot day's
march--after the perspiration produced by long exposure upon the heated
surface of the burnt prairie--I perhaps felt the cold more acutely than
I should otherwise have done. My blood seemed to stagnate and freeze
within my veins.
I was fain to wrap around my body a buffalo-robe, which some careless
savage had dropped upon the trail. My followers were not so well
furnished; starting as we had done, without any thought of being absent
for the night, no preparation had been made for camping out. Only a
portion of them chanced to have their blankets strapped upon the cantles
of their saddles. These were now the fortunate ones.
The norther had roused all of them from their slumbers--had awaked them
as suddenly as a douche of cold water would have done; and one and all
were groping about in the darkness--some seeking for their blankets--
others for such shelter as was afforded by the lee-side of the bushes.
Fortunately there were some saddle-blankets, and these were soon dragged
from the backs of the horses. The poor brutes themselves suffered
equally with their owners; they stood cowering under the cold, with
their hips to the cutting blast, their limbs drawn close together, and
their flanks shaggy and shivering. Some of them half sheltered
themselves behind the bushes, scarce caring to touch the grass at their
feet.
It would have been easy enough to make a fire; there was dry wood in
plenty near the spot, and of the best kind for burning--the large
species of mezquite. Some of the men were for kindling fires at once,
regardless of consequences; but this design was overruled by the more
prudent of the party. The trappers were strongly against it. Cold as
was the night, and dark, they knew that neither the norther nor the
darkness would deter Indians from being abroad. A party might be out
upon the prowl; the very buffalo-skin we had picked up might bring a
squad of them back; for it was the grand robe of some brave or chief,
whose whole life-history was delineated in hieroglyphical painting upon
its inner surface. To have made a fire, might have cost us our lives;
so alleged the trappers, Rube and Garey. It would be better to endure
the cold, than risk our scalps; so counselled they.
But for all that, Rube had no idea of being starved to death. He could
kindle a fire, and burn it upon an open prairie, without the least fear
of its being seen; and in a few minutes' time he had succeeded in making
one, that could not have been discovered by the most sharp-sighted
Indian in creation. I had watched the operation with some interest.
He first collected a quantity of dead leaves, dry grass, and short
sticks of the mezquite-tree--all of which he placed under his
saddle-blanket, to prevent the rain and sleet from wetting them. This
done, he drew out his bowie-knife, and with the blade "crowed" a hole
into the turf, about a foot deep, and ten inches or a foot in diameter.
In the bottom of this hole he placed the grass and leaves, having first
ignited them by means of his flint, steel, and "punk" tinder--all of
which implements formed part of the contents of Rube's pouch and
possible sack--ever present. On the top of the now blazing leaves and
grass he placed the dry sticks--first the smaller ones, and then those
of larger dimensions--until the hole was filled up to the brim--and over
all he laid the piece of sod, originally cut from the surface, and which
fitted as neatly as a lid.
His furnace being now finished and in full blast, the old trapper
"hunkered" down close to its edge--in such a position as to embrace the
fire between his thighs, and have it nearly under him. He then drew his
old saddle-blanket over his shoulders, allowing it to droop behind until
he had secured it under the salient points of his lank angular hips. In
front he passed the blanket over his knees, until both ends, reaching
the ground, were gripped tightly between his toes. The contrivance was
complete; and there sat the earless trapper like a hand-glass over a
plant of spring rhubarb--a slight smoke oozing through the apertures of
the scant blanket, and curling up around his "ears" as though he was
hatching upon a hotbed. But no fire could be seen, though Rube shivered
no longer.
He soon found imitators. Garey had already constructed a similar
furnace; and the others were soon warming themselves by this simple but
ingenious device.
I did not disdain to avail myself of the extra "shaft" which the
kind-hearted Garey had sunk for my accommodation; and having placed
myself by its side, and drawn the ample robe over my shoulders, I felt
as warm as if seated in front of a sea-coal fire!
Under other circumstances, I might have joined in the merriment produced
among my companions by the ludicrous spectacle which we presented. A
comic spectacle indeed; nine of us squatted at intervals over the
ground, the blue smoke escaping through the interstices of our robes and
blankets, and rising around our heads, as though one and all of us were
on fire!
Wind, sleet, and darkness, continued throughout the whole night--cold
wind, sharp icy sleet, and black darkness, that seemed palpable to the
touch. Ever so eager, ever so fresh, we could not have advanced along
the trail. Grand war-trail as it was, it could not have been traced
under that amorphous obscurity, and we had no means of carrying a light,
even had it been safe to do so. We had no lantern, and the norther with
one blast would have whisked out a torch of pitch-pine.
We thought no more of going forward, until either the day should break
or the wind come to a lull.
At midnight we replenished our subterranean fires, and remained on the
ground. Hail, rain, wind, and darkness.
My companions rested their heads upon their knees, or nodding slept. No
sleep for me--not even the repose of thought. Like some fevered
sufferer on his wakeful couch. I counted the hours--the minutes. The
minutes seemed hours.
Rain, hail, sleet, and wind seemed, like darkness itself, to belong to
the night. As long as night lasted, so long continued they. When it
came to an end, all vanished together--the norther had exhausted its
strength.
A wild turkey--killed before nightfall--with some steaks of the
peccary-pork, furnished us with an ample breakfast.
It was hastily cooked, and hastily eaten; and as the first streak of
dawn appeared along the horizon, we were in our saddles, and advancing
upon the trail.