It would be very difficult, my young readers, to describe to you the
scene which followed this unexpected recognition. The family had all
risen to their feet, and with cries and tears in their eyes clung around
the little Luisa as though they were about to lose her for ever. And,
indeed, it is likely that an indistinct thought of this kind had flitted
across their minds, when they saw that she was no longer their sister--
for they had almost forgotten that she was not so, and they loved her as
well as if she had been. Up to this time none of them had thought of
her but as a sister; and Harry, with whom she was a great favourite,
used to call her his "dark sister," while the younger, Mary, was known
as the "fair" one in the midst of the group stood the little brunette,
like the rest, overwhelmed with singular emotions, but calmer, and
apparently more mistress of her feelings, than any of them.
The traders and hunters were all upon their feet congratulating McKnight
on the happy discovery; while each of them shook hands with our host and
his wife, whom they now remembered having heard of, as well as the story
of the massacre. Old Cudjo leaped over the floor, whipping the panthers
and wolf-dogs, and cutting various capers, while the very animals
themselves howled with a sort of fierce joy. Our host went into an
inner apartment of the cabin, and presently returned with a large jar of
brown earthenware. Cups cut out of the calabash were set upon the
table; and into these a red liquid was poured from the jar, and we were
all invited to drink. What was our surprise on tasting the beverage to
find that it was wine--wine in the middle of the desert! But it was
so--excellent wine--homemade, as our host informed us--pressed from the
wild muscadine grapes that grew plentifully in his valley.
As soon as we had all passed the cups of wine, and had got fairly seated
again, McKnight, at the request of Rolfe, took up the thread of the
story, in order to detail how he had escaped from the Indians on that
fearful night. His story was a short one and ran as follows:--
"After I left you," said he, addressing Rolfe, "where you had broken
your wagon, I rode on, and overtook the caravan. The road, as you may
remember, became smooth and level; and as there appeared to be no good
camping-ground nearer than the hills, we kept on for them without
stopping. It was near sundown, when we reached the little stream where
you saw the wagons. There, of course, we halted, and formed our camp.
I did not expect you to come in for an hour or so later, as I calculated
that it would take you about that length of time to mend the tongue. We
kindled fires, and, having cooked our supper and eaten it, were sitting
around the logs chatting, smoking, and some of the Mexicans, as is their
custom, playing at _monte_. We had put out no guard, as we had no
expectation that there were Indians in that quarter. Some of the men
said they had travelled the trail before; and had never met an Indian
within fifty miles of the place. At length it became dark, and I began
to grow uneasy about you, fearing you might not be able to make out our
trail in the night. Leaving my wife and child by one of the fires I
climbed a hill that looked in the direction you should have come; but I
could see nothing for the darkness. I stood for some time listening,
thinking I might hear the rattle of your wheels, or some one of you
talking. All at once a yell broke upon my ears, that caused me to turn
toward the camp with a feeling of consternation. I well knew the
meaning of that yell. I knew it was the war-cry of the Arapahoes. I
saw savage figures dashing about in the red glare of the fires. I heard
shots and shouts, and screams and groans; and, among the rest, I
recognised the voice of my wife calling me by name!
"I did not hesitate a moment, but ran down the hill, and flung myself
into the thick of the fight, which was now raging fiercely. I had
nothing with which to arm myself but a large knife, with which I struck
on all sides, prostrating several of the savages. Here I fought for a
moment, and there I ran, calling for my wife. I passed through among
the wagons, and on all sides of the camp crying, `Luisa!' There was no
answer; she was nowhere to be seen. Again I was face to face with
painted savages, and battling with desperation. Most of my comrades
were soon killed, and I was forced among the bushes, and into the
darkness, by one of the Indians, who pressed upon me with his spear. I
felt the weapon pass through my thigh, and I fell impaled upon the
shaft. The Indian fell above me; but, before he could struggle up
again, I had thrust him through with my knife, and he lay senseless.
"I rose to my feet, and succeeded in drawing out the spear. I saw that
the struggle had ceased around the fires; and, believing that my
comrades, as well as my wife and child, were all dead, I turned my back
upon the fires, and stole off into the thicket, determined to get as far
as possible from the camp. I had not gone more than three hundred yards
when I fell, exhausted with the loss of blood and the pain of my wound.
I had fallen near some rocks at the bottom of a precipice, where I saw
there was a small crevice or cave. I had still strength enough left to
enable me to reach this cave, and crawl into it; but I fainted as soon
as the effort was over.
"I must have lain insensible for many hours. When I came to
consciousness again, I saw that daylight was shining into the cave. I
felt that I was very weak, and could scarcely move. My ghastly wound
stared me in the face,--still undressed, but the blood had ceased
flowing of its own accord. I tore up my shirt, and dressed it as well
as I was able; and then, getting nearer to the mouth of the cave, I lay
and listened. I could hear the voices of the Indians, though very
indistinctly, in the direction of the camp. This continued for an hour
or more; and then the rocks rang with a terrible explosion, which I knew
to be the bursting of a shell. After that I could hear loud shouts, and
soon after, the hurried trampling of many horses; and then all was
silence. I thought at the time that the Indians had taken their
departure; but I knew not what had caused them to go off in such a
hurry. I found out afterwards. Your conjecture was right. They had
thrown one of the bombs into the fire, and the fuse catching, had caused
it to explode, killing several of their number. As they believed it to
be the hand of the Great Spirit, they had hastily gathered up such
plunder as was most desirable to them, and ridden away from the spot. I
did not know this at the time, and I lay still in my cave. For several
hours all was silence; but, as night drew near, I fancied I again heard
noises about the camp, and I thought the Indians might not yet be gone.
"When darkness came, I would have crawled toward the camp, but I could
not; and I lay all night in the cave, chafing with the pain of my wound,
and listening to the howling of the wolves. That was a terrible night.
"Morning dawned again, and I could hear no sounds. I was now suffering
dreadfully, both from hunger and thirst. I saw a well-known tree
growing in front of the cave. I knew it, because the same tree is found
upon the mountains of the Mimbres, near our mine. It was a species of
pine, called by the Mexicans `pinon,' whose cones afford food to
thousands of the miserable savages who roam over the great western
Desert from the Rocky Mountains to California. If I could only reach
this tree, I might find some of its nuts upon the ground; and, with this
hope, I dragged myself painfully out of the cave. It was not twenty
paces from the rocks where the tree grew; yet, with my weakness and the
pain of my wound, I was nearly half an hour in reaching it. To my joy,
I found the ground under it covered with cones. I was not long in
stripping off the rinds of many of them, and getting the seeds, which I
ate greedily, until I had satisfied my hunger.
"But another appetite far more terrible was craving me--I was tortured
with thirst. Could I crawl as far as the camp? I knew that there I
should find water in the stream; and, from the position of the cave, I
knew I could not find it nearer. I must either reach it or die; and,
with this thought to spur me on, I commenced the short journey of three
hundred yards, although I was not certain I might live to see the end of
it. I had not crawled six paces through the underwood, when a bunch of
small white flowers attracted my attention. They were the flowers of
the sorrel-tree--the beautiful lyonia--the very sight of which sent a
thrill of gladness through my heart. I was soon under the tree, and,
clutching one of its lowermost branches, I stripped it of its smooth,
serrated leaves, and eagerly chewed them. Another and another branch
were successively divested of their foliage, until the little tree
looked as if a flock of goats had been breakfasting upon it. I lay for
nearly an hour masticating the soft leaves, and swallowing their
delicious and acid juice. At length my thirst was alleviated, and I
fell asleep under the cool shadow of the lyonia.
"When I awoke again, I felt much stronger, and with new appetite to eat.
The fever which had begun to threaten me was much allayed; and I knew
this was to be attributed to the virtue of the leaves I had eaten--for
besides relieving thirst, the sap of the sorrel-tree is a most potent
febrifuge. Gathering a fresh quantity of the leaves, and tying them
together, I again set out for the pinon-tree. I took the leaves with
me, so that I should not have to make the return trip to the sorrel that
night again. In a few minutes I had reached the end of my journey, and
was busy among the cones. You laugh at my calling it a journey; but I
assure you it was a most painful one to me, although it was not ten
paces from one tree to the other. The slightest motion agonised me.
"That night I passed under the pinon, and in the morning, having made my
breakfast of the seeds, I collected my pockets full, and set out again
for the sorrel-tree. Here I spent the day; and with a fresh cargo of
leaves returned at night to the pinon, where I again slept.
"Thus, for four successive days and nights, I passed between these two
brave trees, living upon the sustenance they afforded. The fever was
luckily warded off by the leaves of the friendly lyonia. My wound began
to heal, and the pain left it. The wolves came at intervals; but,
seeing my long knife, and that I still lived, they kept at a wary
distance.
"Although the leaves of the sorrel assuaged my thirst, they did not
satisfy it. I longed for a good draught of water; and, on the fourth
day, I set out for the stream. I was now able to creep upon my hands
and one knee, dragging the wounded limb after me. When I had got about
half-way through the underwood, I came upon an object that almost
congealed the blood in my veins. It was a human skeleton. I knew it
was not that of a man--I knew it was--"
Here the voice of the miner became choked with sobs, and he was unable
to finish the sentence. Nearly all in the room--even the rude hunters--
wept as they beheld his emotion. After an effort he continued:--
"I saw that she had been buried; and I wondered at this, for I knew the
Indians had not done it. I was never certain until this hour who had
performed for her that sacred rite. I thought, however, it must have
been you; for after I had recovered I went back upon the trail; and, not
finding your wagon anywhere, I knew you must have come on to the camp,
and gone away again. I looked in every direction to find which way you
had gone; but, as you will remember, there was a heavy fall of rain
shortly after, and that had obliterated every track. All this happened
after I was able to get upon my feet, which was not for a month after
the night of the massacre. But let me go back in my narrative to where
I had found the remains of my poor wife.
"The wolves had torn the body from its grave. I looked for some vestige
of my child. With my hands I dug down into the loose mould and leaves,
which you had thrown over her body; but no infant was there. I crawled
on to the camp. I found that, just as you have described it--except
that the bodies were now bleaching skeletons, and the wolves had taken
their departure. I searched around, on all sides, thinking I might find
some traces of my little Luisa; but in vain. `The Indians have either
carried the child away,' thought I, `or the fierce wolves have devoured
it altogether.'
"In one of the wagons I found an old mess-chest lying hid under some
rubbish. It had escaped the hurried plunder of the savages. On opening
it, I saw that it contained, among other things, some coffee and several
pounds of jerked meat. This was a fortunate event, for the meat and
coffee nourished me, until I was able to gather a sufficient quantity of
the pinons.
"In this way I spent a whole month, sleeping in one of the wagons at
night, and crawling off to collect pinons during the day. I had but
little fear that the Indians would return; for I knew that that part of
the country was not inhabited by any tribe; and we must have fallen in
with a party of the Arapahoes, wandering out of their usual range. As
soon as I grew strong enough, I dug a grave, where I interred the
remains of my poor wife; and now I began to think of taking my leave of
that melancholy scene.
"I knew that I was not much more than a hundred miles distant from the
eastern settlements of New Mexico; but a hundred miles of uninhabited
wilderness, and on foot, was a barrier that seemed almost as impassable
as the ocean itself. I was determined, however, to make the attempt;
and I set about sewing a bag in which I should carry my roasted pinons--
the only provision I could get to sustain me through the journey.
"While engaged in this operation, with my eyes fixed upon the work, I
heard footsteps near me. I raised my head suddenly, and in alarm. What
was my joy, when I saw that the object which had startled me was neither
more nor less than a mule, that was slowly coming towards the camp! I
recognised it as one of the mules that had belonged to our caravan.
"The animal had not yet observed me; and I thought it might shy away, if
I showed myself too suddenly. I resolved, therefore, to capture it by
stratagem. I crept into the wagon, where I knew there was a lazo; and
having got hold of this, I placed myself in ambush, where I saw the mule
would most likely pass. I had scarcely got the noose ready, when, to my
extreme satisfaction, the mule came directly to where I lay expecting
it. The next moment its neck was firmly grasped in the loop of the
lazo, and the animal itself stood tied to the tongue of one of the
wagons. It was one of our mules that had escaped from the Indians, and
after wandering over the country for weeks had now found the track, and
would, no doubt, had I not caught it, have found its way back to Saint
Louis; for this is by no means an unfrequent occurrence with animals
that stray off from the caravans. It soon became tame with me, and in a
few days more I had manufactured a bridle and saddle; and, mounting with
my bag of roasted pinons, I rode off on the trail for Santa Fe. In
about a week I reached that place in safety, and continued my journey
southward to the mine.
"My history since that time can have but little interest for any of you.
It is that of a man sorrowing for the loss of all he loved on earth.
But you, Rolfe, you have given me new life in restorer; to me my child,
my Luisa; and every chapter of your history, woven as it is with hers,
will be to me, at least, of the deepest interest. Go on then,--go on!"
With this the miner concluded; and our host, after inviting each of us
to re-fill our cups with wine, and our pipes with tobacco, resumed his
narrative where he had left it off, in consequence of the happy, but
unexpected episode, to which it had led.