As if to favour our design, the night descended dusk as the wing of a
vulture. The summits of San Juan were no longer visible--their outlines
becoming blended with the dark background of sky; while the more sombre
slopes of the Sierra Mojada had long since faded from the view. Even
light-coloured objects could be but dimly traced through the profound
obscurity--such as the white covers of the waggons, our own
weather-bleached buffalo-tents, the metallic sheen of the stream, and
the speckled oxen browsing along its banks. Between these objects the
atmosphere was filled with a uniform and amorphous darkness; and dusky
forms like ours could be seen only under the light of the blazing fires.
A few of these had been kindled outside the enclosure--near the avenue
entrance; but most were inside, surrounded by groups of emigrants--the
flames casting their ruddy light upon the bright cheerful faces of women
and children, or on the ruder and more careworn countenances of the men.
Underneath the waggon-bodies, the red light, broken by the radiating
spokes of the wheels, gleamed outward in a thousand jets; and men
walking outside, flung gigantic shadows over the plain. Nearer to the
line of barricade, only the shadows of their limbs were projected, the
upper part of their persons being shrouded from the glare by the tilts
and boxing of the waggons. Under this friendly cover we were enabled to
approach close up to the vehicles, without much risk of attracting
observation. But few persons were straying outside--only the
cattle-guards and other routine-officers of the caravan, all equally
negligent of their duties. They knew they were in Utah territory, and
had no enemy to fear.
It was, moreover, the hour of most interest in the daily routine of a
travelling-train: when forms cluster around the bivouac fire, and bright
faces shine cheerfully in the blaze; when the song succeeds the supper,
the tale is told, and the merry laugh rings on the air; when the pipe
sends up its aromatic wreaths of blue curling smoke; and sturdy limbs,
already rested from the toils of the day, feel an impulse to spring
upward on the "light fantastic toe." On that eve, such an impulse had
inspired the limbs of the Mormon emigrants. Scarcely had the _debris_
of the supper been removed, ere a space was cleared midway between the
blazing fires; music swelled upon the air--the sounds of fiddle, horn,
and clarionet--and half a score of couples, setting themselves _en
quadrille_, commence treading time to the tune. Sufficiently _bizarre_
was the exhibition--a dance of the true "broad-horn" breed; but we had
no thought of criticising an entertainment so opportune to our purpose.
The swelling sound of the instruments drowning low conversation--the
confusion of many voices--the attraction of the saltatory performance--
were all circumstances that had suddenly and unexpectedly arisen in our
favour. My companion and I had no longer a fear that our movements
would be noted. Indeed, only those who might be in the waggons, and
looking through the draw-string aperture in the rear of the tilts, would
be likely to see us at all. But most of these apertures were closed,
some with curtains of common canvas--others with an old counterpane, a
blanket, or such rag as was fitted for the service.
We saw no face looking outwards. All were turned upon the attractive
circle of Terpsichoreans, that, under the brilliant light of the fires,
were bounding through the mazy figures, of the dance. The waggons
forming the sides of the enclosure were in _echellon_; and their tilts
lapping on each other, it was impossible to see between them. With the
two, however, that closed the end of the _corral_, the case was
different. These had been drawn up side by side, and parallel to each
other; and though their wheels touched, there still remained a space
above the tires, through which we could command a view of the ground
within the enclosure. At this point we had placed, ourselves. It
proved the very vantage-ground we desired. We could view the enclosed
ellipse longitudinally, and note nearly every movement made by those
inside. Even should we be detected in our espionage, it would pass
without suspicion as to our real object. What more natural than that we
should desire to witness the spectacle of the dance? The act would be
construed as springing from mere savage curiosity?
Our eyes, wandering over the different figures, soon became fixed upon
two. They were men, and seated--near each other, and some paces apart
from the crowd of dancers. They were Holt and Stebbins. Both were by
the side of a large fire, that threw its red light in full glare over
them--so that not only their figures, but even the expression upon their
features we could distinctly trace. The squatter, pipe in mouth, and
with head drooping down almost to his knees, looked grimly into the
fire. He was paying no attention to what was passing around him. His
thoughts were not there? Stebbins, on the other hand, appeared eagerly
to watch the dancers. He was dressed with a degree of adornment; and
exhibited a certain patronising attitude, as if master of the sports and
ceremonies! Men and women went and came, as if paying court to him; and
each was kept for a moment in courtly converse, and then graciously
dismissed, with all the ludicrous etiquette of mock ceremonial!
I looked among the dancers--scrutinising each face as it came round to
the light. There were girls and women--some of all ages. Even the
gross _mulatto_ was "on the floor," hobbling through the figures of a
quadrille. But Lilian? I was disappointed in not seeing her--a
disappointment that gratified me. Where was she? Among the spectators?
I made a hurried examination of the circle. There were faces fair and
young--white teeth and rose-hued cheeks--but not hers. She was not
among them! I turned to her sister to make a conjectural inquiry. I
saw that the eyes of Marian were fixed upon her father. She was
regarding him with a singular expression. I could fancy that some
strange reflection was passing through her mind--some wild emotion
swelling within her bosom. I refrained from interrupting the current of
her thoughts.
Up to this time, the waggon beside which we stood had been dark inside.
Suddenly, and, as if by magic, a light flashed within, gleaming through
the translucent canvas. A candle had been lighted under the tilt; and
now continued to burn steadily. I could not resist the temptation to
look under the canvas. Perhaps a presentiment guided me? It needed no
disarrangement of the cover. I had only to step a pace to one side and
opposite the curtain in the rear of the vehicle. The slight rude
hanging had been negligently closed. An interstice left open between
the two flaps permitted a fall view of the interior. A number of large
boxes and articles of household use filled up the bed of the waggon.
Over these had been thrown some coarse garments, and pieces of
bed-clothing--blankets, counterpanes, and a bolster or two. Near the
forward end, a chest of large dimensions stood higher than the rest; and
upon the lid of this a piece of tallow-candle was burning, in the neck
of an old bottle! Between the flame of the candle and my eyes a figure
intervened, shadowing the rearward part of the waggon. It was a female
figure; and, dim as was the light, I could trace the outlines of a
lovely _silhouette_, that could be no other than that of Lilian Holt. A
slight movement of the head brought the gleam of golden-hair under the
flickering flame; and the features were seen _en profile_. They were
hers. It was Lilian who occupied the waggon. She was alone--though in
front of the vehicle, I could see forms not distant from where she sat.
Young men were loitering there. Ardent glances were directed towards
her. She appeared desirous of shunning them. She held in her hands a
book. One might have fancied she was reading it: for it was open. But
the light fell sparingly on the page; and her stealthy glances towards
it told, something else than the book was occupying her attention. A
piece of detached paper that gleamed whiter between the leaves, was
evidently the object of her solicitude. It was the writing upon that
she was trying to decipher. I watched with eager glance. I noted every
movement of the fair reader. Marian had joined me. We both watched
together.
It required an effort to restrain ourselves from speech. A word would
have been worth all this writing; but it might also have ruined
everything. They who stood in front of the waggon might hear that word.
It was not spoken. Lilian was evidently embarrassed by the presence of
these young men; and cast uneasy glances towards them as she read.
Perhaps the restraint thus placed upon her hindered any violent show of
emotion, which the writing on the paper might have called forth. A
short suppressed sigh, as she finished reading; a quick searching glance
among the groups in front--another, shot stealthily towards the rear of
the waggon--this was all in her manner that might have appeared unusual.
I waited till her eyes were again turned rearward; and then, gently
parting the canvas flaps, I held Marian's note between my fingers inside
the curtain. The apparition of my red-hand did not cause an alarm. The
poem had paved the way for the more prosaic epistle: and neither scream
nor start was occasioned by its delivery. As soon as I saw that the
piece of paper was observed, I dropped it among the boxes, and withdrew
my hand. The fear that we might have been noticed standing too long in
one place, influenced us to move away. If fortune should favour the
reading of that note, on our return we might find our scheme much more
ripe for execution. With this reflection, we glided silently from the
spot.