Mayne Reid

“ A bruised canteen, the fragments of a glass bottle, an old hat, a piece of saddle-cloth, a stirrup red with rust, a broken strap, with many like symbols, are strewn along our path, speaking a melancholy language.
We are still only on the border of the desert. We are fresh. How when we have travelled over and neared the opposite side? Shall we leave such souvenirs?
We are filled with painful forebodings, as we look across the arid waste that stretches indefinitely before us. We do not dread the Apache. Nature herself is the enemy we fear.
Taking the waggon-tracks for our guide, we creep on. ”

“ No one who knew him doubted old Rube to be, as in fact he was, one of the very best marksmen in the mountains—fully equal, perhaps, to the Indian; but it was the style and circumstances which had given such éclat to the shot of the latter. It was not every day that a beautiful girl could be found to stand fire as the squaw had done; and it was not every hunter who would have ventured to fire at a mark so placed. The strength of the feat lay in its newness and peculiarity. The hunters had often fired at the mark held in one another’s hands. ”

“ A voice answered mine, and one of the horsemen came galloping up; it was Saint Vrain.
“Why, bless me, Haller!” cried he, reining up, and bending from his saddle to get a better view of me, “is it you or your ghost? As I sit here, it’s the man himself, and alive!”
“Never in better condition,” I replied.
“But where did you come from? the clouds? the sky? where?” And his questions were echoed by the others, who at this moment were shaking me by the hand, as if they had not seen me for a twelvemonth.
Gode seemed to be the most perplexed man of the party. ”

“ How unlike the forest Indian!
For two hours we watch their movements, and listen to their voices. Then the horse-guard is detailed, and marches off to the caballada; and the Indians, one after another, spread their skins, roll themselves in their blankets, and sleep.
The fires cease to blaze; but by the moonlight we can distinguish the prostrate bodies of the savages. White objects are moving among them. They are dogs prowling after the débris of their supper. These run from point to point, snarling at one another, and barking at the coyotes that sneak around the skirts of the camp. ”

“ El Sol, I have said, was standing over the prostrate Indian. His countenance indicated the blending of two emotions, hate and triumph.
His sister at this moment galloped up, and, leaping from her horse, advanced rapidly forward.
“Behold!” said he, pointing to the Navajo chief; “behold the murderer of our mother!”
The girl uttered a short, sharp exclamation; and, drawing a knife, rushed upon the captive.
“No, Luna!” cried El Sol, putting her aside; “no; we are not assassins. That is not revenge. He shall not yet die. We will show him alive to the squaws of the Maricopa. ”

“ There was a thicket of young cotton-trees and willows fringing the spring, and in the heart of this a fire was kindled. Another mule was sacrificed to the manes of hunger; and the hunters, after devouring the tough steaks, flung themselves upon the ground and slept. The horse-guard only, out by the caballada, stood leaning upon his rifle, silent and watchful.
Resting my head in the hollow of my saddle, I lay down by the fire. Seguin was near me with his daughter. The Mexican girls and the Indian captives lay clustered over the ground, wrapped in their tilmas and striped blankets. ”

“ The bright orb sinks behind us, and the quartz rock saddens into a sombre hue. The straggling rays of twilight hover but a moment over the chalky cliffs, and then vanish away. It is night.
Descending the hills in a long string, we arrive upon the plain. We turn to the left, and keep round the mountain foot. The rocks guide us.
We proceed with caution, and exchange our words only in whispers. We crawl around and among loose boulders that have fallen from above. We turn many spurs that shoot out into the plain. Occasionally we halt and hold council. ”

“ It flickers along the white cliffs of the quartz mountain. It brings with it a raw, cold air that awakens the hunters.
One by one they arouse themselves. They shiver as they stand up, and carry their blankets wrapped about their shoulders. They feel weary, and look pale and haggard. The grey dawn lends a ghastly hue to their dusty beards and unwashed faces.
After a short while they coil up their trail-ropes and fasten them to the rings. They look to their flints and priming, and tighten the buckles of their belts. They draw forth from their haversacks pieces of dry tasajo, eating it raw. ”

“ I remembered the remarks of Seguin.
There was something inspiriting in the sight of these bright mountains; something life-like, that prevented us from feeling the extreme and real desolation by which we were surrounded. At times we could not help fancying that we were in a thickly-populated country—a country of vast wealth and civilisation, as appeared from its architectural grandeur. Yet in reality we were journeying through the wildest of earth’s dominions, where no human foot ever trod excepting such as wear the moccasin; the region of the “wolf” Apache and the wretched Yamparico. ”

“ There was no living thing to be seen save the brown and hideous lizard, the rattlesnake, and the desert crickets that crawled in myriads along the parched ground, and were crunched under the hoofs of our animals. “Water!” was the word that began to be uttered in several languages.
“Water!” cried the choking trapper.
“L’eau!” ejaculated the Canadian.
“Agua! agua!” shouted the Mexican.
We were not twenty miles from the San Carlos before our gourd canteens were as dry as a shingle. The dust of the plains and the hot atmosphere had created unusual thirst, and we had soon emptied them. ”

“ They reached them. They broke them with their tomahawks and pistol-butts, and cleft them with their knives. They tore off the plates of mica and glassy selenite. They flung them at their feet, abashed and mortified; and, one after another, came back to the plain with looks of disappointment and chagrin. Not one of them said a word, as they climbed into their saddles, and rode sullenly after the chief.
We had lost a day by this bootless journey; but our consolation lay in the belief that our Indian pursuers, following upon our trail, would make the same détour. ”

“ For hundreds of miles around no chimney sends forth its smoke. Although with a cultivated aspect, this region is only trodden by the moccasined foot of the hunter, and his enemy, the Red Indian.
These are the mottes—the “islands” of the prairie sea.
I am in the deep forest. It is night, and the log fire throws out its vermilion glare, painting the objects that surround our bivouac. Huge trunks stand thickly around us; and massive limbs, grey and giant-like, stretch out and over. I notice the bark. It is cracked, and clings in broad scales crisping outward. ”

“ The meeting of Seguin with his wife and daughter; my own short embrace and hurried kiss; the sobs and swooning of my betrothed; the mother’s recognition of her long-lost child; the anguish that ensued as her yearning heart made its appeals in vain; the half-indignant, half-pitying looks of the hunters; the triumphant gestures and ejaculations of the Indians: all formed points in a picture that lives with painful vividness in my memory, though I am not sufficiently master of the author’s art to paint it. ”

“ You live in a northern zone, in a land of pools and streams and limpid springs. How unlike the denizen of the desert, the voyageur of the prairie sea! Water is his chief care, his ever-present solicitude; water the divinity he worships. Without water, even in the midst of plenty, plenty of food, he must die. In the wild western desert it is the thirst that kills. No wonder I was filled with despair. I believed myself to be about the middle of the Jornada. ”

“ Ride forward, Rube. Come, Monsieur Haller, you’re fond of hunting; come along with us!”
I followed the guide and Seguin through the bushes; like them, riding slowly and silently.
In a few minutes we reached the edge of a prairie covered with long grass. Peering cautiously through the leaves of the prosopis, we had a full view of the open ground. The buffaloes were on the plain!
It was, as Rube had rightly conjectured, a small prairie about a mile and a half in width, closed in on all sides by a thick chapparal. Near the centre was a motte of heavy timber, growing up from a leafy underwood. ”

“ They are cacti. It is a forest of the Mexican nopal. Another singular plant is here. It throws out long, thorny leaves that curve downward. It is the agave, the far-famed mezcal-plant of Mexico. Here and there, mingling with the cacti, are trees of acacia and mezquite, the denizens of the desert-land. No bright object relieves the eye; no bird pours its melody into the ear. The lonely owl flaps away into the impassable thicket, the rattlesnake glides under its scanty shade, and the coyote skulks through its silent glades. ”

“ Not so my companions on the azotea. Both seem sad.
Seguin is silent. I thought he had climbed up here to take a last look of the fair valley. Not so. He paces backward and forward with folded arms, his eyes fixed upon the cemented roof. They see no farther; they see not at all. The eye of his mind only is active, and that is looking inward. His air is abstracted; his brow is clouded; his thoughts are gloomy and painful. I know the cause of all this. She is still a stranger!
But Saint Vrain—the witty, the buoyant, the sparkling Saint Vrain—what misfortune has befallen him? ”

“ Away on the western border of the valley we could see dark objects, hundreds of them, coming over the plain. They were still at a great distance, but the practised eyes of the hunters knew them at a glance. They were horsemen; they were Indians; they were our pursuers, the Navajoes!
They were riding at full gallop, and strung over the prairie like hounds upon a run. In a twinkling they would be on us.
“Yonder!” cried Seguin, “yonder are scalps enough to satisfy you; but let us see to our own. Come! to your horses! On with the atajo! ”

“ Seguin follows, keeping his eye and hand upon him. We crowd after, close upon the heels of both.
We pass through dark ways, descending, as we go, through an intricate labyrinth. We arrive in a large room, dimly lighted. Ghastly images are before us and around us, the mystic symbols of a horrid religion! The walls are hung with hideous shapes and skins of wild beasts. We can see the fierce visages of the grizzly bear, of the white buffalo, of the carcajou, of the panther, and the ravenous wolf. ”

“ Our own thirst required slaking as much as theirs; and, crowding into the branch, we poured the cold water down our throats in cupfuls. We felt as though we should never be surfeited; but another appetite, equally strong, lured us away from the spring; and we ran over the camp-ground in search of the means to gratify it. We scattered the coyotes and white wolves with our shouts, and drove them with missiles from the ground.
We were about stooping to pick up the dust-covered morsels, when a strange exclamation from one of the hunters caused us to look hastily round. ”

“ The hunters, interested and curious, strain their eyes, watching the ceremony.
The topmost pinnacle of the quartz mountain is on fire. It is the first flash of the sun!
The peak is yellowing downward. Other points catch the brilliant beams. They have struck the faces of the devotees. See! there are white faces! One—two—many white faces, both of women and girls.
“Oh, God! grant that it may be!” cries Seguin, hurriedly putting up the glass, and raising the bugle to his lips. ”

“ We had shaved our time closely; for, on reaching the hill-top, we could hear the exclamations of Indians, the “thump, thump” of hoofs on the hard plain, and an occasional neigh, as their horses scented the water. The foremost were advancing to the spring; and we could see the long line of mounted men stretching in their deploying to the far horizon.
Closer they came, and we could distinguish the pennons and glittering points of their spears. We could see their half-naked bodies gleaming in the clear moonlight. ”

“ As she approaches, the men murmur their admiration. There are hearts beating under hunting-shirts that rarely deign to dream of the charms of woman.
I am struck at this moment with the appearance of the young trapper Garey. His face has fallen, the blood has forsaken his cheeks, his lips are white and compressed, and dark rings have formed round his eyes. They express anger, but there is still another meaning in them. ”

“ I have climbed mountain after mountain, and still I behold peaks soaring far above, crowned with the snow that never melts. I stand upon beetling cliffs, and look into chasms that yawn beneath, sleeping in the silence of desolation. Great fragments have fallen into them, and lie piled one upon another. Others hang threatening over, as if waiting for some concussion of the atmosphere to hurl them from their balance. Dark precipices frown me into fear, and my head reels with a dizzy faintness. I hold by the pine-tree shaft, or the angle of the firmer rock. ”

“ There is no movement in the Indian camp. It is a bad indication. Had they intended to travel on, they would have been stirring before this. They are always on the route before daybreak. These signs strengthen our feelings of apprehension.
The grey light begins to spread over the prairie. There is a white band along the eastern sky. There are noises in the camp. There are voices. Dark forms move about among the upright spears. Tall savages stride over the plain. Their robes of skins are wrapped around their shoulders to protect them from the raw air of the morning. ”

“ She leans against the parapet. She no longer turns to the west. She no longer gazes upon the Mimbres. Her heart is no longer in the desert land!
No; it is with her eyes, and these rest almost continuously on Saint Vrain. They wander at intervals over the stones of the azotea; then her thoughts do not go with them; but they ever return to the same object, to gaze upon it tenderly, more tenderly at each new glance.
The anguish of captivity is over. She no longer desires to escape. There is no prison where he dwells. It is now a paradise. Henceforth the doors may be thrown freely open. ”