The place where our adventurers now encamped was in a large grove of
white oaks and shell-bark hickory-trees. There was a spring near the
centre of the grove, and near this spring the horses were tied, as there
grew around it plenty of grass of the mezquite species. The dried meat,
which formed the staple of their own provisions, had been scattered by
Jeanette in her flight, and of course lost. What were they to have for
dinner? This was an important question; and by way of answer to it,
Basil and Francois took up their guns and walked out to see whether they
could fall in with a squirrel or some other eatable creature. But the
sun was yet high, and no squirrels could be seen--for these little
creatures hide themselves during mid-day, coming out only in the
mornings and evenings to feed and play.
Failing to start any game in the thick shady grove, the young hunters
bethought them of making trial around its edge; and, after walking a
hundred yards or so, they came near the border of the prairie. They did
not show themselves suddenly, as they were in hopes they might discover
deer, partridges, or some other game in--what is usually a favourite
resort--the open ground along the edge of the woods. They stole
silently forward, therefore, using the large tree-trunks to screen them.
The prairie was a clear one--that is, without timber-islands, only here
and there a tree, and these but small ones, mostly black-jacks and
shell-barks. They could see over its surface to a great extent, as it
was quite level and covered with short spring buffalo-grass. No deer
was upon it. Not an animal of any sort. Yes, there was. On looking
more carefully, at no great distance--about two hundred yards out--they
beheld two small creatures running over the sward, and at intervals
squatting upon their haunches like monkeys, as if conversing with each
other.
"Prairie-dogs," suggested Francois.
"No," said Basil, "they are not that, for I see no tails. The
prairie-dogs have long tails."
"What can they be, then?"
"Hares, I take it," replied Basil, looking through his fingers.
"Hares!" ejaculated Francois, in some surprise. "Why, they are not
bigger than rats! Do you mean that they are young hares?"
"No, indeed, full-grown hares of their species."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Francois. "Why, brother, what are your eyes good
for? You think they are far off, don't you? I tell you they are not
two hundred yards from us, and a grey squirrel would be a giant beside
them. Hares, indeed!"
"I am still of that opinion," answered Basil, as he continued to gaze
intently at the animals. "I am not certain, though. I wish Lucien were
here. Perhaps he could tell us what they are."
"Here he is, then," said Francois, as the footstep of Lucien was heard
behind them. "Look yonder, Luce!" continued he. "See what Basil calls
a pair of full-grown hares!"
"And Basil is right," replied Lucien, after having examined them for a
moment. "They _are_ full-grown hares."
Francois looked confounded.
"If I mistake not," continued Lucien, "they are the species known among
the Indians of the prairie as the `little chief hare.' They may be a
different variety, though, for there are several species of these small
hares found in the Rocky Mountains, and the prairies that lie around
them. They are very rare. I wish we could get the skin of one. I am
sure papa would prize it highly."
"That we may soon get," said Francois. "Can I not step forward, and
shoot one of them?"
"No," replied Lucien, "they would be off like the wind, before you could
get within range."
"What about Marengo? Can he not catch one?"
"I think not; besides, he would tear it in pieces. No. Our only chance
is to remain here. They appear to be making this way."
The three now took their stations behind the trunks of large trees, so
as not to be observed by the timid little animals.
The latter, as they fed and sported over the grass, were still getting
nearer to the edge of the grove; but as they advanced in an oblique
direction, they were not likely to approach the point where the young
hunters were stationed. These thought of moving farther along, so as to
meet them; and were about starting to do so, when an object appeared
that caused them to remain where they were.
Silently moving among the weeds and brambles, now trotting quickly
behind the covering of a prostrate log, now slowly crawling over the
more open ground, went a strange animal. At intervals it stopped,
squatted low along the earth, and looked eagerly out upon the prairie.
It did not see the young hunters. Its yellow eyes were bent upon the
innocent little creatures that gambolled over the grass beyond.
It was an odd-looking animal--about the size of a terrier-dog, but,
otherwise, altogether unlike one. It was of a reddish yellow colour,
with brown spots upon its sides, and stripes or bands of the same along
its back. These gave it the appearance of the leopard or tiger species,
and it resembled these animals in the rounded, cat-like form of its
head. Its erect tufted ears, however, and short tail showed that it
differed, in some respects, from the tiger kind. The tail, indeed, was
the oddest thing about it. It was not over five inches in length,
curving stiffly upward, and looking as if it had been "stumped," as the
tails of terriers usually are. It was not so, however. Five inches was
all the tail it ever had; and this shortness of tail, with the thick
clumsy legs--but, above all, the high tufted ears, approaching each
other at their tips,--enabled the young hunters to tell what it was--_a
lynx_. It was that species known as the "bay lynx" (_lynx rufus_),
commonly called in America the "wild cat," and sometimes the
"catamount." It was the Texas variety of this animal--which is deeper
in colour than the common bay lynx, and, I think, a different species.
It was evidently doing its best to get near the little hares, and seize
one or both of them. It knew it was not swift enough to run them down,
but it might get close enough to spring upon them. It was favoured to
some extent by the ground; for, although it was open prairie, the white
withered grass of the previous year rose here and there over the new
growth in tufts, large enough to conceal its body as it squatted.
Nearly in a direct line between the lynx and the hares grew a solitary
tree, of the _pecan_ species, with spreading limbs; and almost under it
was a little patch or thicket of briars, weeds, and high grass--no doubt
where some old log, or the carcass of an animal, had mouldered away, and
fertilised the soil. For this the lynx was making on one side, and
towards it the hares were feeding on the other.
The latter had got very near it, and near, too, to the boys, who could
now distinguish their long, erect ears, slender limbs, and graceful
motions--resembling, in fact, those of the common hare. Their colour,
however, was different. It was a rusty fern, lighter underneath, but in
no part--not even under the tail--did any white appear. It was a
beautiful sight to behold these innocent little creatures, now nibbling
at the blades of grass, now leaping a few feet over the sward, and then
settling comically upon their haunches. The young hunters thought it a
beautiful sight; and so would you, boy reader, had you witnessed the
manoeuvres of these miniature hares.
An odd-looking object now presented itself directly in front of them,
and close to the briars. It was of a round shape, and looked like a
large clew of hair or wool of a greyish colour, half-buried in the
ground. Whether it had been there before, neither Basil, nor Lucien,
nor Francois, could tell. It might have been without their noticing it,
as their attention was so occupied with the hares and the lynx.
Francois said he _had_ noticed it a little before; but it had only
slightly arrested his attention, as he supposed it to be a tuft of the
dry grass or a globe-cactus (_echinocactus_)--a species of which they
had seen much of late, and to which it bore a considerable resemblance.
It was evident, however, on closer scrutiny it was not that.
The little hares seemed to notice it about the same time; and, prompted
by curiosity, they drew nearer and nearer to it. There was nothing
about its appearance to alarm them. They had never been attacked by an
enemy in that shape. To all appearance it had neither teeth nor claws,
and consequently they had nothing to fear.
Encouraged by the absence of all danger, and vieing with each other in
boldness, the little creatures advanced, first one and then the other, a
few inches farther, and so on, until their noses almost touched the
strange object. All at once the clew-like body flew out, displaying a
sharp-snouted four-footed animal, whose long serpent-like tail, at the
same instant, sweeping around caught one of the hares in its prehensile
embrace! The little creature uttered a shrill squeak, while its
companion bounded off in terror.
The opossum (for it was no other than an old she 'possum), now turned
upon her tail; and, seizing the head of the hare in her hog-like jaws,
killed it at a single "cranch." She then released it from the coil;
and, laying it out upon the grass, would have made a meal of it then and
there, had she been permitted to do so. But that was not ordained to
be.
The lynx, who was crouching forward, not twenty feet from the briars,
had been a witness to all this. At first it seemed to give him chagrin.
In a little while, however, he appeared rather to like it than
otherwise.
"On second thoughts," said he to himself, "it is better as it is. The
'possum has saved me the trouble of catching the hare, and I might have
missed it withal. _She_ has _captured_ the game, but _I_ shall _eat_
it, I guess."
These thoughts he certainly had--for they were as clearly expressed by
his actions, as if he had been gifted with speech and had uttered them
aloud. In accordance with them, therefore, he crept on, intending to
spring upon the 'possum unawares.
The latter, however, before commencing to eat, like all who know that
they have done a guilty deed, raising herself to her full height, looked
around to see if any one had been a witness to the act. Her eyes fell
upon the lynx; and, hastily seizing the hare in her teeth, she plunged
into the bramble.
The lynx, seeing that further concealment was of no use, bounded forward
with curved back and mane erect. He did not at once follow into the
briars, but ran around them, in order to discover at what point the
'possum had hid herself. He was not without apprehensions that _she
might have a hole there_. If so, good-bye to both hare and 'possum,
thought he.
It appeared not, however; for, after a few circlings around the patch,
he was seen to dash boldly in.
For some time nothing could be seen of either lynx or 'possum. The
patch covered only a few yards of the prairie, but it was a regular
"brake," with vines, briars, and thistles, thickly interwoven and
canopied with leaves. Neither uttered any noise; but the motion of the
leaves, and of the brambles at different points, told that a hot pursuit
was going on underneath--the pursued no doubt baffling the pursuer, by
her body being much smaller and better adapted for squeezing through
narrow places.
For some minutes this curious chase was kept up. Then the 'possum
glided out into the open ground, to the astonishment of all still
carrying the hare in her mouth. She made directly for the tree, and
proceeded to climb it, grasping the trunk with her fore-arms, like a
human being. Her taking to the tree also excited surprise, as it was a
small one--not over thirty feet high--and the young hunters knew that
the lynx could climb as well as she.
The latter now came out of the bramble; and with one bound sprang to the
foot of the pecan. He did not follow up immediately, but stopped a
moment to breathe himself, evidently exulting--as he knew he could
easily climb after, and feeling satisfied that he now had his game safe
and secure.
"Treed at last, old mother 'possum!" soliloquised he, although not
_aloud_. "I'll get you now, an' if I don't give you a good woppin' for
the trouble you've put me to--_see if I don't_! I wouldn't eat ye,
nohow--you ain't sweet enough for that--but I'll eat that hare, an' I'll
chastise you for using it so!"
And with this determination he galloped up the pecan, his claws rattling
against the bark.
By this time the opossum had got near the top of the tree, and out upon
one of the branches that grew horizontally. Along this the lynx
followed; and had arrived almost within reach of the object of his
pursuit, when the opossum, suddenly lapping the branch with her tail,
let herself down to the limb below! The lynx appeared for a moment as
if about to spring after; but the limb was a slender one, and he was not
sure that he might be able to grasp it. He, therefore, turned back,
evidently chagrined; and, descending by the main trunk, ran out upon the
branch now occupied by the opossum. The latter, as before, again let
herself down to another limb; and then, without waiting for her pursuer,
to another still lower, until she hung on the very lowermost branch of
the tree!
The boys thought she was about to drop to the ground, and endeavour to
escape to the woods. That, however, was not her intention, for she knew
the lynx would soon overtake her if she made the attempt. She had got
into the safest situation possible, under the circumstances, and _she_
seemed to know it. She therefore continued to hang on the lowest limb
of the pecan--so near its extremity, that the branch bent under her
weight. It would not have carried another 'possum--much less the
heavier body of a lynx; and the latter, with the "eye of a lynx," saw
that at a glance.
Mortified as he was, however, he was determined to satisfy himself by a
trial. He first crawled out upon the limb, proceeding with great
caution as far as he dared venture; and then with outstretched claw
endeavoured to reach the rings of her tail, thinking he might scratch
them off. In this he was not successful. He could barely touch the
tail with his toes; and he might just as well have tried to open the
claws of an eagle. He next mounted the brands above, thinking this
would bring him nearer; but he soon discovered his mistake. Again he
ran out upon the limb where the opossum hung, and looked for a moment as
if determined to spring down upon her, and carry her along with him to
the earth; but the distance deterred him, and after a while he skulked
back and squatted himself in a fork of the tree.
He did not rest long before a new thought, seemed to strike him. The
'possum was not so very high above the ground; perhaps he could spring
up and seize her by the nose? It was at all events easy to make the
trial. And with this intention he descended to the foot of the tree,
and ran out to the spot over which she was hanging. But she was higher
than he had calculated; and, like the fox with the grapes, after a few
leaps he gave it up. He was resolved, however, to make her stand a
siege; and, thinking he would be as comfortable where he was, he did not
return to the tree, but sat down upon the grass, keeping his eyes fixed
upon his antagonist.
All this while the old 'possum hung quietly upon her tail, holding the
hare in her teeth. From the moment she had secured herself in her
present position, she seemed to have no fear of her antagonist. On the
contrary, her countenance exhibited the expression of a malicious
laugh--and this was as evident to the spectators, as words could have
made it. The cunning creature plainly enjoyed the chagrin she was
causing to the "catamount."
At intervals, however, the thought seemed to stray across her mind as to
how it would all end: and then she assumed a graver look. The lynx, was
determined--she saw that in his face--to make her stand a long siege.
It would be, therefore, a question of patience and hunger. For the
latter she was prepared; and, to enable her to endure it the better, she
passed the hare into her hand-like fore-feet, and commenced tearing and
eating it!
This was too much for the patience of the lynx. He could bear it no
longer, but rose suddenly to his feet; and, with mane erect, rushed up
the tree again, and out upon the branch where hung the opossum. This
time, without stopping to calculate the danger, he sprang forward,
throwing his fore-feet around the other's hips, and seizing her tail in
his teeth. The branch creaked, then broke, and both fell together to
the earth!
For a moment the lynx seemed stunned by the fall; but, the next moment,
he was "himself again." He raised himself up; arched his back like a
true cat; and, with a wild scream, pounced down upon the 'possum. He
seemed to have forgotten the hare, which the other had dropped in her
fall. Revenge was the passion that now raged strongest within him.
Revenge caused him to forget that he was hungry.
The opossum, as soon as she came to the ground, had suddenly clewed
herself up; and now presented the same appearance as when she first came
upon the stage. Head, neck, limbs, and tail, were no longer visible--
nothing but a round ball of thick, woolly hair! At this the catamount
tugged with "teeth and toe-nails." He worried it for not less than ten
minutes, until he became weary. The 'possum was dead to all appearance;
and this the other seemed to think,--or whether he did or not, at all
events, he became tired, and left off worrying her. The sweeter
morsel--the hare--was before his eyes; and this, perhaps, tempted him to
desist, preferring to try his teeth for a while upon it. Leaving the
'possum at length, he turned round and seized upon the hare.
At this moment Francois let Marengo slip, and the whole party rushed
forward with shouts.
The lynx, seeing his retreat cut off from the timber, struck out upon
the prairie; but the great hound soon overtook him; and after a short
but desperate fight, put an end to his poaching.
The young hunters in the pursuit had picked up the hare, which the lynx
had dropped in his flight. When the chase was over they came back to
the tree, with the intention of getting the dead 'possum, which they
meant to cook for their supper. To their astonishment no 'possum was
there--neither in the tree, nor the briar-patch beside it, nor anywhere!
The sly creature had been "playing 'possum" throughout all that
terrible worrying; and, finding the coast clear, had "unclewed" herself,
and stolen off to her hiding-place under the roots of some neighbouring
tree!
Nothing remained but the body of the lynx and the poor little carcass of
the hare. The former none of our adventurers cared to eat, although it
is often eaten both by the trappers and Indians--and the latter was so
torn and chawed as to render it worthless. So, since no other game--not
even a squirrel--could be found about the place, all four--Lucien,
Basil, Francois, and _Marengo_, went to sleep--for the first time since
the commencement of their journey--_supperless_!