We entered the woods, and followed the Indian trail up stream. We
hurried forward as fast as the atajo could be driven. A scramble of
five miles brought us to the eastern end of the valley. Here the
sierras impinged upon the river, forming a canon. It was a grim gap,
similar to that we had passed on entering from the west, but still more
fearful in its features. Unlike the former, there was no road over the
mountains on either side. The valley was headed in by precipitous
cliffs, and the trail lay through the canon, up the bed of the stream.
The latter was shallow. During freshets it became a torrent; and then
the valley was inaccessible from the east, but that was a rare
occurrence in these rainless regions.
We entered the canon without halting, and galloped over the detritus,
and round huge boulders that lay in its bed. Far above us rose the
frowning cliffs, thousands of feet overhead. Great rocks scarped out,
abutting over the stream; shaggy pines hung top downward, clinging in
their seams; shapeless bunches of cacti and mezcals crawled along the
cliffs, their picturesque but gloomy foliage adding to the wildness of
the scene.
It was dark within the pass, from the shadow of the jutting masses; but
now darker than usual, for black storm-clouds were swathing the cliffs
overhead. Through these, at short intervals, the lightning forked and
flashed, glancing in the water at our feet. The thunder, in quick,
sharp percussions, broke over the ravine; but as yet it rained not.
We plunged hurriedly through the shallow stream, following the guide.
There were places not without danger, where the water swept around
angles of the cliff with an impetuosity that almost lifted our horses
from their feet; but we had no choice, and we scrambled on, urging our
animals with voice and spur.
After riding for a distance of several hundred yards, we reached the
head of the canon and climbed out on the bank.
"Now, cap'n," cried the guide, reining up, and pointing to the entrance,
"hyur's yur place to make stand. We kin keep them back till thur sick
i' the guts; that's what we kin do."
"You are sure there is no pass that leads out but this one?"
"Ne'er a crack that a cat kud get out at; that ur, 'ceptin' they go back
by the other eend; an' that'll take them a round-about o' two days, I
reckin."
"We will defend this, then. Dismount, men! Throw yourselves behind the
rocks!"
"If 'ee take my advice, cap, I'd let the mules and weemen keep for'ard,
with a lot o' the men to look arter 'em; them that's ridin' the meanest
critters. It'll be nose an' tail when we do go; and if they starts now,
yur see wa kin easy catch up with 'em t'other side o' the parairar."
"You are right, Rube! We cannot stay long here. Our provisions will
give out. They must move ahead. Is that mountain near the line of our
course, think you?"
As Seguin spoke, he pointed to a snow-crowned peak that towered over the
plain, far off to the eastward.
"The trail we oughter take for the ole mine passes clost by it, cap'n.
To the south'art o' yon snowy, thur's a pass; it's the way I got clur
myself."
"Very well; the party can take the mountain for their guide. I will
despatch them at once."
About twenty men, who rode the poorest horses, were selected from the
band. These, guarding the atajo and captives, immediately set out and
rode off in the direction of the snowy mountain. El Sol went with this
party, in charge of Dacoma and the daughter of our chief. The rest of
us prepared to defend the pass.
Our horses were tied in a defile; and we took our stands where we could
command the embouchure of the canon with our rifles.
We waited in silence for the approaching foe. As yet no war-whoop had
reached us; but we knew that our pursuers could not be far off; and we
knelt behind the rocks, straining our eyes down the dark ravine.
It is difficult to give an idea of our position by the pen. The ground
we had selected as the point of defence was unique in its formation, and
not easily described; yet it is necessary you should know something of
its peculiar character in order to comprehend what followed.
The stream, after meandering over a shallow, shingly channel, entered
the canon through a vast gate-like gap, between two giant portals. One
of these was the abrupt ending of the granite ridge, the other a
detached mass of stratified rock. Below this gate the channel widened
for a hundred yards or so, where its bed was covered with loose boulders
and logs of drift timber. Still farther down, the cliffs approached
each other, so near that only two horsemen could ride between them
abreast; and beyond this the channel again widened, and the bed of the
stream was filled with rocks, huge fragments that had fallen from the
mountain.
The place we occupied was among the rocks and drift, within the canon,
and below the great gap which formed its mouth. We had chosen the
position from necessity, at at this point the bank shelved out and
offered a way to the open country, by which our pursuers could outflank
us, should we allow them to get so far up. It was necessary, therefore,
to prevent this; and we placed ourselves to defend the lower or second
narrowing of the channel. We knew that below that point beetling cliffs
walled in the stream on both sides, so that it would be impossible for
them to ascend out of its bed. If we could restrain them from making a
rush at the shelving bank, we would have them penned up from any farther
advance. They could only flank our position by returning to the valley,
and going about by the western end, a distance of fifty miles at the
least. At all events, we should hold them in check until the atajo had
got a long start; and then, trusting to our horses, we intended to
follow it in the night. We knew that in the end we should have to
abandon the defence, as the want of provisions would not allow us to
hold out for any length of time.
At the command of our leader we had thrown ourselves among the rocks.
The thunder was now pealing over our heads, and reverberating through
the canon. Black clouds rolled along the cliffs, split and torn by
brilliant jets. Big drops, still falling thinly, slapped down upon the
stones.
As Seguin had told me, rain, thunder, and lightning are rare phenomena
in these regions; but when they do occur, it is with that violence which
characterises the storms of the tropics. The elements, escaping from
their wonted continence, rage in fiercer war. The long-gathering
electricity, suddenly displaced from its equilibrium, seems to revel in
havoc, rending asunder the harmonies of nature.
The eye of the geognosist, in scanning the features of this plateau
land, could not be mistaken in the character of its atmosphere. The
dread canons, the deep barrancas, the broken banks of streams, and the
clay-cut channels of the arroyos, all testified that we were in a land
of sudden floods.
Away to the east, towards the head waters of the river, we could see
that the storm was raging in its full fury. The mountains in that
direction were no longer visible. Thick rain-clouds were descending
upon them, and we could hear the sough of the falling water. We knew
that it would soon be upon us.
"What's keepin' them anyhow?" inquired a voice.
Our pursuers had time to have been up. The delay was unexpected.
"The Lord only knows!" answered another. "I s'pose thar puttin' on a
fresh coat o' paint at the town."
"They'll get their paint washed off, I reckin. Look to yer primin',
hosses! that's my advice."
"By gosh! it's a-goin' to come down in spouts."
"That's the game, boyees! hooray for that!" cried old Rube.
"Why? Do you want to git soaked, old case?"
"That's adzactly what this child wants."
"Well, it's more 'n I do. I'd like to know what ye want to git wet for.
Do ye wish to put your old carcass into an agey?"
"If it rains two hours, do 'ee see," continued Rube, without paying
attention to the last interrogatory, "we needn't stay hyur, do 'ee see?"
"Why not, Rube?" inquired Seguin, with interest.
"Why, cap," replied the guide, "I've seed a skift o' a shower make this
hyur crick that 'ee wudn't care to wade it. Hooray! it ur a-comin',
sure enuf! Hooray!"
As the trapper uttered these exclamations, a vast black cloud came
rolling down from the east, until its giant winds canopied the defile.
It was filled with rumbling thunder, breaking at intervals into louder
percussions, as the red bolts passed hissing through it. From this
cloud the rain fell, not in drops, but, as the hunter had predicted, in
"spouts."
The men, hastily throwing the skirts of their hunting shirts over their
gun-locks, remained silent under the pelting of the storm.
Another sound, heard between the peals, now called our attention. It
resembled the continuous noise of a train of waggons passing along a
gravelly road. It was the sound of hoof-strokes on the shingly bed of
the canon. It was the horse-tread of the approaching Navajoes!
Suddenly it ceased. They had halted. For what purpose? Perhaps to
reconnoitre.
This conjecture proved to be correct; for in a few moments a small red
object appeared over a distant rock. It was the forehead of an Indian
with its vermilion paint. It was too distant for the range of a rifle,
and the hunters watched it without moving.
Soon another appeared, and another, and then a number of dark forms were
seen lurking from rock to rock, as they advanced up the canon. Our
pursuers had dismounted, and were approaching us on foot.
Our faces were concealed by the "wrack" that covered the stones; and the
Indians had not yet discovered us. They were evidently in doubt as to
whether we had gone on, and this was their vanguard making the necessary
reconnaissance.
In a short time the foremost, by starts and runs, had got close up to
the narrow part of the canon. There was a boulder below this point, and
the upper part of the Indian's head showed itself for an instant over
the rock. At the same instant half a dozen rifles cracked; the head
disappeared; and, the moment after, an object was seen down upon the
pebbles, at the base of the boulder. It was the brown arm of the
savage, lying palm upward. We knew that the leaden messengers had done
their work.
The pursuers, though at the expense of one of their number, had now
ascertained the fact of our presence, as well as our position; and the
advanced party were seen retreating as they had approached.
The men who had fired reloaded their pieces, and, kneeling down as
before, watched with sharp eyes and cocked rifles.
It was a long time before we heard anything more of the enemy; but we
knew that they were deliberating on some plan of attack.
There was but one way by which they could defeat us: by charging up the
canon, and fighting us hand-to-hand. By an attack of this kind their
main loss would be in the first volley. They might ride upon us before
we could reload; and, far outnumbering us, would soon decide the day
with their long lances. We knew all this; but we knew, too, that a
first volley, when well delivered, invariably staggers an Indian charge,
and we relied on such a hope for our safety.
We had arranged to fire by platoons, and thus have the advantage of a
second discharge, should the Indians not retreat at the first.
For nearly an hour the hunters crouched under the drenching rain,
looking only to keep dry the locks of their pieces. The water, in muddy
rivulets, began to trickle through the shingle, and eddying around the
rocks, covered the wide channel in which we now stood, ankle-deep. Both
above and below us, the stream, gathered up by the narrowing of the
channel, was running with considerable velocity.
The sun had set, at least it seemed so, in the dismal ravine where we
were. We were growing impatient for the appearance of our enemy.
"Perhaps they have gone round," suggested one.
"No; thar a-waitin' till night. They'll try it then."
"Let 'em wait, then," muttered Rube, "ef thur green enuf. A half an
hour more'll do; or this child don't understan' weather signs."
"Hist! hist!" cried several voices together. "See; they are coming!"
All eyes were bent down the pass. A crowd of dark objects appeared in
the distance, filling up the bed of the stream. They were the Indians,
and on horseback. We knew from this that they were about to make a
dash. Their movements, too, confirmed it. They had formed two deep,
and held their bows ready to deliver a flight of arrows as they galloped
up.
"Look out, boyees!" cried Rube; "thur a-comin' now in airnest. Look to
yur sights, and give 'em gos; do 'ee hear?"
As the trapper spoke, two hundred voices broke into a simultaneous yell.
It was the war-cry of the Navajoes!
As its vengeful notes rang upon the canon, they were answered by loud
cheers from the hunters, mingled with the wild whoops of their Delaware
and Shawano allies.
The Indians halted for a moment beyond the narrowing of the canon, until
those who were rearmost should close up. Then, uttering another cry,
they dashed forward into the gap.
So sudden was their charge that several of them had got fairly through
before a shot was fired. Then came the reports of the guns; the crack--
crack--crack of rifles; the louder detonations of the Spanish pieces,
mingled with the whizzing sound of Indian arrows. Shouts of
encouragement and defiance were given on both sides; and groans were
heard, as the grooved bullet or the poisoned barb tore up the yielding
flesh.
Several of the Indians had fallen at the first volley. A number had
ridden forward to the spot of our ambush, and fired their arrows in our
faces. But our rifles had not all been emptied; and these daring
savages were seen to drop from their saddles at the straggling and
successive reports.
The main body wheeled behind the rocks, and were now forming for a
second charge. This was the moment of danger. Our guns were idle, and
we could not prevent them from passing the gap, and getting through to
the open country.
I saw Seguin draw his pistol, and rush forward, calling upon those who
were similarly armed to follow his example. We ran after our leader
down to the very jaws of the canon, and stood waiting the charge.
It was soon to come; for the enemy, exasperated by many circumstances,
were determined on our destruction, cost what it might. Again we heard
their fierce war-cry, and amidst its wild echoes the savages came
galloping into the gap.
"Now's yur time," cried a voice; "fire! Hooray!"
The cracks of fifty pistols were almost simultaneous. The foremost
horses reared up and fell back, kicking and sprawling in the gap. They
fell, as it were, in a body, completely choking up the channel. Those
who came on behind urged their animals forward. Some stumbled on the
heap of fallen bodies. Their horses rose and fell again, trampling both
dead and living among their feet. Some struggled over and fought us
with their lances. We struck back with our clubbed guns, and closed
upon them with our knives and tomahawks.
The stream rose and foamed against the rocks, pent back by the prostrate
animals. We fought thigh-deep in the gathering flood. The thunder
roared overhead, and the lightning flashed in our faces, as though the
elements took part in the conflict!
The yelling continued wild and vengeful as ever. The hunters answered
it with fierce shouts. Oaths flew from foaming lips, and men grappled
in the embrace that ended only in death!
And now the water, gathered into a deep dam, lifted the bodies of the
animals that had hitherto obstructed it, and swept them out of the gap.
The whole force of the enemy would be upon us. Good heavens! they are
crowding up, and our guns are empty!
At this moment a new sound echoed in our ears. It was not the shouts of
men, nor the detonation of guns, nor the pealing of the thunder. It was
the hoarse roaring: of the torrent!
A warning cry was heard behind us. A voice called out: "Run for your
lives! To the bank! to the bank!"
I turned, and beheld my companions rushing for the slope, uttering words
of terror and caution. At the same instant my eye became fixed upon an
approaching object. Not twenty yards above where I stood, and just
entering the canon, came a brown and foaming mass. It was water,
bearing on its crested front huge logs of drift and the torn branches of
trees. It seemed as though the sluice of some great dam had been
suddenly carried away, and this was the first gush of the escaping
flood!
As I looked it struck the portals of the canon with a concussion like
thunder, and then, rearing back, piled up to a height of twenty feet.
The next moment it came surging through the gap.
I heard their terrified cry as the Indians wheeled their horses and
fled. I ran for the bank, followed by my companions. I was impeded by
the water, which already reached to my thighs; but with desperate energy
I plunged and weltered through it, till I had gained a point of safety.
I had hardly climbed out when the torrent rolled past with a hissing,
seething sound. I stood to observe it. From where I was I could see
down the ravine for a long reach. The Indians were already in full
gallop, and I saw the tails of their hindmost horses just disappearing
round the rocks.
The bodies of the dead and wounded were still lying in the channel.
There were hunters as well as Indians. The wounded screamed as they saw
the coming flood. Those who had been our comrades called to us for
help; we could do nothing to save them. Their cries had hardly reached
us when they were lifted upon the crest of the whirling current, like so
many feathers, and carried off with the velocity of projectiles!
"Thar's three good fellows gone under! Wagh!"
"Who are they?" asked Seguin, and the men turned round with inquiring
looks.
"Thar's one Delaware, and big Jim Harris, and--"
"Who is the third man that's missing? Can anyone tell?"
"I think, captain, it's Kirker."
"It is Kirker, by the 'tarnal! I seed him down. Wagh! They'll lift
his har to a sartinty."
"Ay, they'll fish him out below. That's a sure case."
"They'll fish out a good haul o' thur own, I reckin. It'll be a tight
race, anyhow. I've heern o' a horse runnin' agin a thunder shower; but
them niggurs 'll make good time, if thur tails ain't wet afore they git
t'other eend--they will."
As the trapper spoke, the floating and still struggling bodies of his
comrades were carried to a bend in the canon, and whirled out of sight.
The channel was now filled with the foaming yellow flood that frothed
against the rocks as it forged onward.
Our danger was over for the time. The canon had become impassable; and,
after gazing for a while upon the torrent, most of us with feelings of
awe, we turned away, and walked toward the spot where we had left our
horses.