The Desert Home Part 8

"'Dear Mary,' I replied, roused to new life and energy by her consoling words, 'you are right--you are right--in Him only let us trust.'

"At that moment a strange noise sounded in our ears, coming from the direction of the forest. It seemed distant at first, but every moment drew nearer and nearer. It was like the voice of some animal 'routing'

from extreme terror or pain. I looked around for the ox. The horse was in the glade, but his companion was not to be seen. Again the voice came from the woods, louder and more fearful than ever. It was plainly the bellowing of an ox; but what could it mean? Once more it rose upon the air, nearer and more distinct, and sounded as though the animal was running as it cried!

"I sprang to my rifle--Frank and Harry also seized theirs--Cudjo armed himself with the Indian spear; and the dogs, that had started to their feet, stood waiting a signal to rush forth.

"Once more broke out that terrible cry; and we could now hear the sweeping of leaves, and the crackling of branches, as if some huge animal was tearing its way through the bushes. The birds flew up from the thicket, terrified and screaming--the horse neighed wildly--the dogs sent forth their impatient yelps, and our children shrieked in affright!

Again rose, the deep and sonorous roar, filling the valley with its agonising tones. The cane rattled as it yielded to the crus.h.i.+ng hoof.

We saw the leaves of the thick underwood shaking at a distance--then nearer--then up to the edge of the glade--and the next moment a bright red object appeared through the leaves, and dashed out into the opening.

We saw at a glance it was the ox; but what could it mean? Was he pursued by some monster--some beast of prey? No! not pursued, but already overtaken. Look! see what the ox carries on his shoulders! Oh, heavens! what a sight!

"We were all for a while as if paralysed. Between the shoulders of the ox, and clutching him around the neck, was a large animal. It at first sight appeared to be a ma.s.s of brown s.h.a.ggy hair, and part of the ox himself--so closely was it fastened upon him. As they drew nearer, however, we could distinguish the spreading claws and short muscular limbs of a fearful creature. Its head was down near the throat of the ox, which we could see was torn, and dappled with crimson spots. The mouth of the strange animal was resting upon his jugular vein. It was tearing his flesh, and drinking his blood as he ran!

"The ox, as he came out of the thicket, galloped but slowly, and bellowed with less energy than before. We could perceive that he tottered as he ran, still making for the camp. In a short time, he was in our midst, when, uttering a long moan, he fell to the earth with the death-rattle in his throat!

"The strange animal, roused by the shock, suddenly let go its hold, and raised itself erect over the carca.s.s. Now, for the first time, I saw what it was. It was the fearful _carcajou_! Now, too, for the first time, it seemed to be aware of our presence, and suddenly placed itself in an att.i.tude to spring. The next moment it had launched its body towards Mary and the children!

"We all three fired as it sprang forward, but our feelings had unnerved us, and the bullets whistled idly away. I drew my knife and rushed after; but Cudjo was before me, and I saw the blade of his spear glancing towards it like a flash of light, and burying itself in the long hair. With a hoa.r.s.e growl, the monster turned, and, to my joy, I saw that it was impaled upon the spear, which had pa.s.sed through the skin of its neck. Instead of yielding, however, it rushed up the shaft, until Cudjo was compelled to drop the weapon, to save himself from being torn by its long, fierce claws. Before it could clear itself from the spear, I had drawn my large pistol, and fired directly into its breast.

The shot proved mortal; and the s.h.a.ggy monster rolled over, and struggled for some minutes in the agonies of death. _We_ were saved; but our poor ox, that was to have drawn us out of the Desert, lay upon the gra.s.s a lifeless and almost bloodless carcase!"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

A FRUITLESS SEARCH FOR A TRAIL.

"Our hopes of being able to get away from the oasis valley were thus crushed in a moment. The horse could not of himself draw the wagon, and how could we travel without it? Even could we have crossed the Desert on foot, he would hardly suffice to carry our food and water. But for us to pa.s.s one of those terrible stretches of wilderness--by the Spaniards called 'jornadas'--on foot was out of the question. Even the strongest and hardiest of the trappers often perish in such attempts; and how should we succeed--one of us being a delicate female--and having two children that must be carried in our arms? The thing was plainly impossible; and as I reflected upon it, the thoughts of its impossibility filled me with despair.

"But were we never to escape from that lonely spot? What prospect was before us of ever being able to leave it? No human beings might come to our relief. Perhaps no human foot except our own had ever made its track in that remote valley! This was not at all improbable; and indeed a party of hunters or Indians, on their journey across the Desert, might visit the mountain without discovering the valley,--so strangely was it hollowed out of the plain.

"I had but little hope that any caravan or party of traders would pa.s.s that way. The Desert that surrounded us was a sufficient barrier against that; besides, I knew that the mountain was far to the southward of the trails usually followed by the prairie traders. There was but one hope that I could cling to with any degree of confidence: that was, that the Desert might not stretch so far to the south or west as it appeared to do; and by breaking up the wagon, and making a light cart out of it, we might still be able to cross it. I was determined, therefore, first to go alone, and explore the route in both these directions. If it should appear practicable, I could return, and put this design into execution.

"Next morning, having loaded my horse with provisions, and as much water as he could well carry, I took an affectionate leave of my wife and little ones; and, commending them to the protection of G.o.d, I mounted, and rode off toward the west. I headed in this direction for a day and a half, and still the waste stretched to the horizon before me. I had made but a short journey, for the path led through ridges and hillocks of moving sand, and my horse sank to the knees at every step. In the afternoon of the second day, I turned back from the attempt, fearful that I should not be able to regain the valley. But I succeeded at length,--both myself and horse almost dead with thirst on arriving there.

"I found my little party all well, as I had left them; but I had brought them no glad tidings, and I sat down in the midst of them with a feeling of despair.

"My next reconnoissance was to be to the south; and I only waited until my jaded horse might be sufficiently rested for another journey.

"Another day pa.s.sed, and I was sitting upon a log near the fire, reflecting upon the dark future that lay before us. I was filled with despondency, and took no note of what was pa.s.sing around. When I had sat in this way for some time, I felt a light hand touching me upon the shoulder; and, looking up, I saw that Mary had seated herself upon the log beside me, while a smile of cheerfulness and composure was playing upon her features.

"I saw that she had something in her mind that she was about to communicate to me.

"'What is it, Mary?' I asked.

"'Is not this a lovely spot?' said she, waving her hand so as to indicate the whole scene by which we were surrounded. My eyes, along with hers, roamed for a moment over the fair picture, and I could not do otherwise than answer in the affirmative. It was, indeed, a lovely spot. The open glade, with the golden sun streaming down upon its green herbage, and vivid flowers--the varied tints of the forest frondage, now dressed in the brilliant lively of autumn--the cliffs beyond, contrasting with it in colour from their lining of dark-green cedars and pines--and, higher still, the snow-white summit, as it towered against the blue sky, sparkling under the sun, and lending a delicious coolness to the air--all these objects formed a panorama that was indeed lovely to look upon. And there were sweet sounds falling upon the ear--the murmur of distant waters--the light rustling of leaves, stirred by a soft breeze that blew past laden with the aromatic odours of buds and flowers--the music of birds that sang to each other in the groves, or uttered their joyous calls as they flapped their bright wings over the open glade.

"'Yes, Mary,' I replied, 'it is indeed a lovely spot.'

"'Then, Robert,' said she, with a look of strange meaning, 'why should we be so anxious to leave it?'

"'Why?' I repeated mechanically after her, wondering at the question.

"'Yes, why?' continued my wife. 'We are in search of a home--why not make _this_ our home? Where can we find a better? How know we that in that land whither we were going, we may find one so good--if, indeed, they give us a home at all?'

"'But, dear Mary,' said I, 'how could you live away from the world--you who have been brought up in the midst of society and its refinements?'

"'The world!' replied she, 'what care we for the world? Have we not our children with us? They will be our world, and we can be society enough for each other. Moreover,' continued she, 'remember how little we have in that world,--remember how it has used us so far. Have we been happy in it? No, I have enjoyed more happiness here than I ever did in the midst of that society, of which you speak. Think, Robert! reflect before we rashly leave this lovely spot--this sweet home--into which I can almost believe the hand of G.o.d has guided us.'

"'But, Mary, you have not thought of the difficulties, the hards.h.i.+ps to which such a life may expose you.'

"'I have,' she replied. 'I have thought of all these while you were absent. I can see no difficulty in our procuring a subsistence here.

The Creator has bountifully stocked this singular oasis. We may easily obtain all the necessaries of life--for its luxuries I care but little.

We can live without them.'

"Her words produced a strange effect upon me. Up to that moment the idea of _remaining_ in the oasis had never entered my mind. I had only occupied myself with speculating on the means by which we could escape from it. Now, however, a sudden change came over my thoughts; and I began to think seriously of following the counsel of my self-sacrificing companion. The harsh treatment we had received at the hands of civilised man--buffeted about by ill fortune--continually deceived, and at every step becoming poorer and more dependent, all had their effect in blunting that desire I should otherwise have felt to get back to the world. I was not averse then to the idea, but rather ready to fall at once into the plan.

"I remained silent for a length of time, casting over in my mind the possibility of our carrying out such a scheme--the chances of our being able to procure subsistence. It was evident there was plenty of game in the valley. We had occasionally seen deer of different species, and we had also discovered the tracks of other animals. There were pheasants and turkeys, too, in abundance. We had our rifles, and by good fortune a large stock of ammunition--for, besides my own, Harry and Frank had powder-horns containing nearly a pound each. But this in time would be expended--what then? Oh, what then? Before that I should find out some other mode of capturing our game. Besides, the valley might contain many other things intended to sustain life--roots and fruits. We had already found some indications of this; and Mary, who was an accomplished botanist, could tell the uses of them all. We should find both food and water. What more could we ask from the hand of Nature?

"As I ran these thoughts through my mind, the project became every moment more feasible. In fact, I grew quite as enthusiastic about it as my wife.

"Cudjo, Frank, and Harry, were brought into our council; and they, too, received the idea with delight. The faithful Cudjo was contented, as he alleged, with any lot, so long as he might share it with us. As for the boys they were in raptures with the thought of such a free wild life.

"We did not fully resolve upon anything for that day. We were determined not to act rashly, but to reflect seriously upon it, and to renew our deliberations on the following morning.

"During that night, however, a circ.u.mstance occurred, which at once fixed my resolution to remain in the valley--at least until some unforeseen chance might enable us to leave it with a better prospect of safety."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE MYSTERIOUS FLOOD.

"Well, my friends, I shall now detail to you the strange incident, which at once decided me to adopt the suggestion of my wife, and make our home in the valley. Perhaps we did not, at the time, contemplate staying here for the remainder of our lives--but only for a few years. However, we resolved to remain for the present, and give our lonely life a fair trial, leaving the future an open question.

"The reason why I had hesitated at all upon the subject was this:--I could not think of settling down with no prospect of improving our condition; for, however much we might exercise our industry, its products could not enrich us beyond the satisfying of our own wants. We should have no market, thought I, for any superfluous produce, even could we cultivate the whole valley. We could, therefore, become no richer, and would never be in any fitter state to return to civilised society--for, in spite of all, a thought of this still remained in my mind.

"Mary, who was of a far more contented disposition than I, still persisted in arguing that as our happiness did not depend upon possessing riches, we would never desire to leave that lovely spot, and that, consequently, we should stand in no need of wealth.

"Perhaps hers was the true philosophy--at all events, it was the natural one. But the artificial wants of society implant within us the desire of acc.u.mulating individual property; and I could not rid myself of this provident feeling. 'If we could only find some object,' said I, 'upon which we might be exercising our industry, so that _our time should not be wasted_, and by which we might prepare ourselves for returning to society, then might we live most happily here.'

"'Who knows?' said Mary, in reply to this; 'there may be objects in this valley that may occupy us, and enable us to lay up the very store you speak of, as well as if we were to continue on to New Mexico. What opportunities should we have there better than here? We have nothing now to begin life with anywhere. Here we have food and land, which I think we may fairly call our own; there we should have neither. Here we have a home; and how know you, Robert, that we may not yet make a fortune in the Desert?'

"We both laughed at the idea; which, of course, Mary had meant only as a jest in order to render our prospects more cheering.

"It was now near midnight, for we had sat up to that late hour deliberating on what we should do. As I have said, we agreed to leave the matter undecided until the morrow. The moon was just appearing over the eastern cliff; and we were about rising to retire to our resting-places, when our eyes fell upon an object that caused us all at the same time to cry out with astonishment.

"I have said, that when we first entered this valley there was no lake here. Where you now see one, was a green sward, with here and there a coppice of trees, forming part of the little prairie in which we were encamped. The stream ran across it, as it still does through the lake; but at this point there were scarcely any banks, as the water flowed over a wide and shallow channel. On previous nights, when the moon was s.h.i.+ning into the valley, as we sat around our camp fire, we had noticed the stream winding like a silver thread through the dark-green herbage.

Now, to our extreme wonder, instead of the narrow line, a broad sheet of water glistened before us! It seemed to cover a s.p.a.ce of several hundred yards in extent, reaching far up the glade towards our camp.