The Boy Hunters Part 21

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

A NIGHT IN THE DESERT.

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 a.s.sumed 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 b.u.t.te 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 b.u.t.te 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 pa.s.s 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 b.u.t.te. 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 gra.s.s 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 antic.i.p.ated, it wound down to the bottom of the barranca, and pa.s.sed 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 b.u.t.te 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 carca.s.s. The other animals, seeing her act in this manner, rushed after; and the next moment the little cavalcade pa.s.sed round a point of rocks, where a green sward gladdened the eyes of all. They saw gra.s.s 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.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

THE p.r.o.nG-HORNS.

The "b.u.t.te" was one of those singular formations to be met with in the Great American Desert. It was not a mountain nor yet a hill. Its shape was different from either. It was more like a vast ma.s.s of rocky earth, raised above the prairie, perpendicular on all sides, and having a flat level surface upon its top. It was, in fact, one of those hills which in the language of Spanish America, are termed "mesas," or tables--so called on account of their flat, table-like tops. They are generally argillaceous, and are common upon the Upper Missouri river, and throughout the vast desert regions that lie west of the Del Norte.

Sometimes several of them stand near each other upon the plains, looking as though their tops had once been the level of the ancient surface, and the ground between had been worn away by disintegration--from rain and other causes--leaving them thus standing. To the eye of one accustomed to looking only upon rounded hills, or mountains with sharp peaks, these elevated "mesas" appear very singular, and form an interesting study for the geologist.

The top of the one beside which our adventurers halted, had a superficial area of some twenty or thirty acres; and its perpendicular sides rose nearly two hundred feet above the surrounding prairie. A thin growth of pine-trees covered it; while stunted pinons and cedars hung out from its cliffs. There were agaves, and yucca palms, and cacti, growing along its edges, giving it a very picturesque appearance.

Our travellers, after halting, and having satisfied their thirst, of course thought of nothing but remaining there to recruit both themselves and their animals. They saw around them the three requisites of a camp--water, wood, and gra.s.s. They commenced by cutting down some pinon-trees that grew by the foot of the cliff. With these a bright fire was soon made. They had still enough bear's meat left to last them for several days. What more wanted they? But they discovered that even in this arid region Nature had planted trees and vegetables to sustain life. The pinons afforded their farinaceous cones, the agave yielded its esculent roots, and the prairie-turnip grew upon the borders of the runlet. They saw a small plant with white lily-like flowers. It was the "sego" of the Indians (_Calochortus luteus_), and they knew that at its roots grew tubers, as large as filberts, and delicious eating when cooked. Lucien recognised all these edible productions; and promised his brothers a luxurious dinner on the morrow. For that night, all three were too much fatigued and sleepy to be nice about their appet.i.tes. The juicy bear's meat, to travellers, thirsty and hungry as they, needed no seasoning to make it palatable. So they washed themselves clear of the dust, ate their frugal meal, and stretched themselves out for a long night's rest.

And a capital night's rest they enjoyed--without having been disturbed by anything. One would have supposed that, after so much hards.h.i.+p, they would have got up somewhat wearied. Strange to say, it was not so, for they arose quite refreshed. This Lucien attributed to the bracing influence of the light dry atmosphere; and Lucien was right, for, although an arid soil surrounded them, its climate is one of the healthiest in the world. Many a consumptive person, who has crossed the prairies with flushed cheek, uttering his hectic cough, has returned to his friends to bear joyful testimony to what I now state.

All three felt as brisk as bees, and immediately set about preparing breakfast. They gathered a capful of the pinon cones--the seeds of which Lucien knew how to prepare by parching and pounding. These, with the bear's meat, gave them a good hunter's breakfast. They then thought of their dinner, and dug up a quant.i.ty of "segos" and prairie-turnips.

They found also a mallow--the _Malva involucrata_--whose long tapering root resembles the parsnip both in taste and appearance. All these were baked with the bear's meat--so that the dinner, in some respects, resembled ham, turnips, parsnips, and yams--for the root of the sego thus dressed, is not unlike the yam, or sweet potato (_Convolvulus batatas_).

Of course, our adventurers did not eat their dinner immediately after breakfast. A long interval pa.s.sed between the two meals, which they employed in was.h.i.+ng, scouring, and setting all their tackle to rights-- for this had got sadly out of order in the hurry of the previous days.

While thus engaged, they occasionally cast their eyes over the prairie, but nothing of the buffalo could be seen. Indeed, they did not look for them very earnestly, as they had made up their minds to stay a day or two where they were--until their animals should be well rested, and ready for rough work again. The latter enjoyed themselves quite as much as their masters. There was plenty of the "grama" gra.s.s growing along the banks of the rivulet, and that with the water was all they cared for to make them contented and happy. Jeanette appeared to be glad that she was no longer among the dark woods, where she had so nearly been torn to pieces by panthers and javalies.

Before evening came the boys had finished all the little jobs which had occupied them. Their saddles, bridles, and la.s.sos, were put in thorough repair, and placed upon the dry rocks. Their guns were wiped out, and thoroughly cleaned--lock, stock, and barrel. The horses, too, had been washed by the spring; and Jeanette's shanks had received a fresh "rub"

with bear's grease, so that if ever that celebrated article brought out hair upon anything, it was likely to do so for her.

I say, all their little matters having been thus attended to, the young hunters were sitting upon three large stones near the spring, talking over their past adventures and their future prospects. Of course, the buffalo was the princ.i.p.al theme, as that was the object of their expedition. They did not fail to think of their good old father; and they congratulated themselves upon the pleasure he would have in listening to the story of their adventures when they should get back to tell it. Hugot, too, came in for a share of their thoughts; and Francois laughed over the remembrance of the tricks he had from time to time played upon the little corporal.

While thus enjoying themselves, the eyes of all were attracted to some distant objects upon the prairie.

"Ho!" exclaimed Francois, "what a string of wolves!"

Wolves were no unusual sight, and even at that moment several were sitting upon the prairie, not more than two hundred yards from the camp.

They were those that had followed the party on their march, having kept along with it for days.

"The animals we see, yonder, are not wolves," joyfully added Basil.

"They are better than that, I fancy--they are deer!"

"No, brother," rejoined Lucien, "they are antelopes."

This announcement caused both Basil and Francois to spring to their guns. Basil was particularly anxious to bring down an antelope, for he had never killed one. In fact, he had never seen one, as this animal is not met with near the Mississippi. Strange to say, its favourite range is the arid deserts that lie near the foots of the Rocky Mountains, where there is but little gra.s.s, and less water. In some of these it is the only ruminating animal, of any considerable size, to be met with.

It is often found so far from water, that some naturalists have a.s.serted it can live without this necessary element. They forget that what to them appears _far from water_, is to the antelope but a run of a few minutes, or rather I should say, a flight--for its bounding speed resembles more the flight of a bird than the gallop of a four-footed creature.

Antelopes differ but little from deer. The latter want the gall-bladder, which all antelopes have. Another distinction is found in the horns. The deer's horns are composed of a solid bony substance, which differs from true horn. The horns of the antelope are more like those of a goat. These are the princ.i.p.al distinctions. In most other respects deer and antelopes are alike. Naturalists say there is but one species of antelope in North America--the p.r.o.ng-horned (_Antilope Americana_). When the fauna of Mexico has been carefully examined, I think another will be found.

It is only upon the great prairies of the far west that the p.r.o.ng-horned antelope is met with; and there it is a most shy and timid creature, allowing the hunter only to approach it by cunning and stratagem. A herd is sometimes hunted by the Indians into a "pound," or "surrounded;"

but even then their fleetness often enables them to escape; and so laborious an undertaking is it to capture them thus, that the plan is but seldom adopted, where any other game can be obtained. The easiest mode of taking the antelope is when it is found attempting to cross a river--as its slender limbs and small delicate hoofs render it but a poor swimmer. The Indians sometimes destroy whole herds while thus endeavouring to swim across the great streams of the prairies.

Although so shy, the antelope is as inquisitive as mother Eve was; and will often approach its most dangerous enemy to satisfy its instinct of curiosity. Our party were destined to witness a singular ill.u.s.tration of this peculiarity.

Basil and Francois had seized their guns, but did not attempt to move from the spot. That would be of no use, they judged; as there was not even a bunch of gra.s.s to shelter them in the direction whence the antelopes were approaching. They sat still, therefore, in hopes that the animals were on their way to the spring, and would come nearer of their own accord. In this conjecture the boys were right. The herd, about twenty in all, came on over the prairie, heading directly for the b.u.t.te. They walked in single file, following their leader like Indians on a war-path! They were soon so near, that the hunters could distinguish every part of their bodies--their yellow backs--their white sides and bellies--the short erect manes upon their necks--their delicate limbs--their long pointed muzzles. They could even perceive the little black spots behind their cheeks, which emit that disagreeable odour--as with the common goat--and on account of which the hunting-trappers, in their unromantic phraseology, have given the name of "goats" to these most graceful animals.

All these peculiarities our young hunters observed as the herd approached. They had placed themselves behind some willow-bushes, so as not to be seen by the latter. They observed, too, that there was but one of them with horns, and that was the foremost, or leader. All the rest were does or young ones. The antelopes, as they came on, did not appear to regard the horses, that were browsing out upon the plain, though not directly in their way. They took the latter, no doubt, for mustangs--who are not their enemies in any sense--and, therefore, did not fear them.

They arrived at length close to the spring rivulet, where it ran out upon the prairie. They did not approach it to drink. They were evidently advancing towards the spring itself, perhaps with the intention of getting a cooler and more refres.h.i.+ng draught from the fountain-head. The young hunters lay concealed among the willows--each with his gun ready in his hand--determined to fire as soon as the unsuspecting creatures should come within range.

They had got nearly so--within two hundred yards, or less--when all at once the leader was seen to swerve suddenly to the right, and head away from the water! What could this movement mean? On looking in the new direction, several hairy objects were perceived upon the ground. They were odd-looking objects, of a reddish-brown colour, and might have pa.s.sed for a number of foxes lying asleep. But they were not foxes.

They were wolves--_prairie-wolves_--a sort of animals more cunning even than foxes themselves. They were not asleep neither, though they pretended to be. They were wide awake, as they lay squatted closely upon the gra.s.s, with their heads so completely hidden behind their bushy tails, that it would have been impossible to have told what they were, had not the boys known that they were the same wolves they had noticed but the moment before. There were about half-a-dozen of them in all, lying in a line; but so close were they, that their bodies touched one another, and at first sight appeared as one object, or a string of objects connected together. They lay perfectly still and motionless.

It was this group that had attracted the leader of the antelope herd, and was drawing him out of his course.

Curious to witness the _denouement_, our hunters continued to lie quiet in their ambush among the willows.