Conversing in this way, the young hunters rode on, keeping as far from
the edges of the mounds as possible, lest the hoofs of their horses
might sink in the excavated ground. They had ridden full five miles,
and still the marmot village stretched before them! still the dogs on
all sides uttered their "Choo-choo"--still the owls flapped silently up,
and the rattle-snakes crawled across their track.
It was near sun-down when they emerged from among the hillocks, and
commenced stepping out on the hard, barren plain. Their conversation
now assumed a gloomier turn, for their thoughts were gloomy. They had
drunk all their water. The heat and dust had made them extremely
thirsty; and the water, warmed as it was in their gourd canteens,
scarcely gave them any relief. They began to experience the cravings of
thirst. The butte still appeared at a great distance--at least ten
miles off. What, if on reaching it, they should find no water? This
thought, combined with the torture they were already enduring, was
enough to fill them with apprehension and fear.
Basil now felt how inconsiderately they had acted, in not listening to
the more prudent suggestions of Lucien; but it was too late for
regrets--as is often the case with those who act rashly.
They saw that they must reach the butte as speedily as possible, for the
night was coming on. If it should prove a dark night, they would be
unable to guide themselves by the eminence, and losing their course
might wander all night. Oppressed with this fear, they pushed forward
as fast as possible; but their animals, wearied with the long journey
and suffering from thirst, could only travel at a lagging pace.
They had ridden about three miles from the dog-town, when, to their
consternation, a new object presented itself. The prairie yawned before
them, exhibiting one of those vast fissures often met with on the high
table-lands of America. It was a _barranca_, of nearly a thousand feet
in depth, sheer down into the earth, although its two edges at the top
were scarcely that distance apart from each other! It lay directly
across the track of the travellers; and they could trace its course for
miles to the right and left, here running for long reaches in a straight
line, and there curving or zig-zagging through the prairie. When they
arrived upon its brink, they saw at a glance that they could not cross
it. It was precipitous on both sides, with dark jutting rocks, which in
some places overhung its bed. There was no water in it to gladden their
eyes; but, even had there been such, they could not have reached it.
Its bottom was dry, and covered with loose boulders of rock that had
fallen from above.
This was an interruption which our travellers little expected; and they
turned to each other with looks of dismay. For some minutes they
deliberated, uncertain how to act. Would they ride along its edge, and
endeavour to find a crossing-place? Or would it be better to retrace
their steps, and attempt to reach the stream which they had left in the
morning? The latter was a fearful alternative, as they knew they could
not pass the marmot hillocks in the darkness without losing time and
encountering danger. It is discouraging at all times to _go back_,
particularly as they had ridden so far--they believed that water would
be found near the butte. They resolved, at length, to search for a
crossing.
With this intention they made a fresh start, and kept along the edge of
the barranca. They chose the path that appeared to lead upward--as by
so doing they believed they would the sooner reach a point where the
chasm was shallower. They rode on for miles; but still the fissure,
with its steep cliffs, yawned below them, and no crossing could be
found. The sun went down, and the night came on as dark as pitch. They
halted. They dared ride no farther. They dared not even go back--lest
they might chance upon some outlying angle of the crooked chasm, and
ride headlong into it! They dismounted from their horses, and sunk down
upon the prairie with feelings almost of despair.
It would be impossible to picture their sufferings throughout that long
night. They did not sleep even for a moment. The agonising pangs of
thirst as well as the uncertainty of what was before them on the morrow
kept them awake. They did not even picket their horses--for there was
no grass near the spot where they were--but sat up all night holding
their bridles. Their poor horses, like themselves, suffered both from
thirst and hunger; and the mule Jeanette occasionally uttered a wild
hinnying that was painful to hear.
As soon as day broke they remounted, and continued on along the edge of
the barranca. They saw that it still turned in various directions; and,
to add to their terror, they now discovered that they could not even
retrace the path upon which they had come, without going all the way
back on their own tracks. The sun was obscured by clouds, and they knew
not in what direction lay the stream they had left--even had they
possessed strength enough to have reached it.
They were advancing and discussing whether they should make the attempt,
when they came upon a deep buffalo-road that crossed their path. It was
beaten with tracks apparently fresh. They hailed the sight with joyful
exclamations--as they believed that it would lead them to a crossing.
They hesitated not, but riding boldly into it, followed it downward. As
they had anticipated, it wound down to the bottom of the barranca, and
passed up to the prairie on the opposite side, where they soon arrived
in safety.
This, however, was no termination to their sufferings, which had now
grown more acute than ever. The atmosphere felt like an oven; and the
light dust, kicked up by their horses' hoofs, enveloped them in a
choking cloud, so that at times they could not see the butte for which
they were making. It was of no use halting again. To halt was certain
death--and they struggled on with fast-waning strength, scarcely able to
retain their seats or speak to one another. Thirst had almost deprived
them of the power of speech!
It was near sunset, when the travellers, faint, choking, panting for
breath, bent down in their saddles, their horses dragging along under
them like loaded bees, approached the foot of the eminence. Their eyes
were thrown forward in eager glances--glances in which hope and despair
were strangely blended.
The grey, rocky bluff, that fronted them, looked parched and forbidding.
It seemed to frown inhospitably upon them as they drew near.
"O brothers! should there be no water!"
This exclamation was hardly uttered, when the mule Jeanette, hitherto
lagging behind, sprang forward in a gallop, hinnying loudly as she ran.
Jeanette, as we have said, was an old prairie traveller, and could scent
water as far as a wolf could have done her own carcass. The other
animals, seeing her act in this manner, rushed after; and the next
moment the little cavalcade passed round a point of rocks, where a green
sward gladdened the eyes of all. They saw grass and willows, among
whose leaves gurgled the crystal waters of a prairie spring; and in a
few seconds' time, both horses and riders were quenching their thirst in
its cool current.