CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS.
This night they were not permitted to sleep without interruption. Twoor three times their horses bounded about at the end of theirtrail-ropes, frightened by some prowling animal. It might be wolves,thought they; but the dog Marengo, who did not mind the wolves, showedsymptoms of terror, growling savagely it intervals, but all the whilekeeping in by the camp. The mule Jeanette, too, came close up to thefire--as near as her rope would allow her--and our adventurers could seethat she trembled, as if in fear of some well-known enemy! Severaltimes they could distinguish, amidst the howling of the wolves, astrange sound, differing altogether from the voices of the latter. Itwas a kind of continued snort, uttered in a low and querulous tone; andwhen uttered, it always caused Jeanette to start, and Marengo to crouchcloser to them. Could it be the voice of the cougar? or, more fearfulthought still, the snort of the grizzly bear? The latter was notunlikely. They were now in a region where these fierce animals are tobe met with; and just in such a spot as one or more of them would choosefor their abode.
It was a fearful apprehension, and it would have banished sleep from theeyes of the young hunters had they been certain that grizzly bears werein their neighbourhood. They were not certain, however; still theyresolved not to sleep all at one time, but to keep watch in turns. Thefire was replenished with fresh wood, so that the blaze would enablethem to see for a good distance around; and then two of them lay down tosleep again, while the third watched, sitting up with his piece inreadiness for any sudden attack. Each took a two-hours' turn assentinel until the morning broke, which put an end to their fears, as noenemy appeared to be near them.
They now bestirred themselves, let loose their horses upon the grass,performed their ablutions in the crystal water of the spring, and madeready their breakfast. They did not fail to observe, that their stockof the jerked meat could serve them but a day or two longer; for thewolves at their last camp had carried off a considerable portion of it.They were not without fears as to their future subsistence, as thereseemed to be no game in that part of the country except antelopes; andtheir experience already taught them how little chance they had ofcapturing these. Should they not fall in with the buffalo, therefore,they might starve with hunger.
These thoughts occupied them while engaged in preparing and eatingbreakfast; and they resolved to go on half rations of the bear-meat, andeconomise the little of it that was left.
After breakfast they held a council as to their future route. Shouldthey go north, south, east, or west, from the butte? They were ofdifferent minds. At length, however, they all agreed that before comingto any determination, it would be best to climb the butte, and from itstop get a view of the surrounding country, which might enable them toresolve upon the best route to be taken. Perhaps they might see thebuffaloes from its summit--as it, no doubt, commanded an extensive viewof the prairie on all sides.
Shouldering their guns, and leaving their blankets and utensils by thespring, they started on foot to find a place where they might ascend theeminence. They went round by the western end, for their camp was nearits north-east side. As they proceeded, they began to fear that therewas no place where the hill could be climbed. On all sides it appearedto be a precipice rising perpendicularly from the plain! Here and thereloose rocks lay at its base, as if they had fallen from above; and treesgrew out of its face, clinging by their roots in the seams of the cliff.Scattered pines standing upon its topmost edge, stretched theirbranches out over the plain; and the aloe plants, the yuccas, and cacti,added to the wild picturesqueness of its appearance.
On reaching the westernmost point of the butte, a new object presenteditself to the eyes of our adventurers. It resembled a range of cliffs,or low mountains, at a great distance off to the west, and running fromnorth to south as far as they could see. It _was_, in fact, a range ofcliffs--similar to those of the butte. It was the eastern escarpment ofthe famous "Llano Estacado," or "Staked Plain." The boys had oftenheard hunters speak of this tableland, and they recognised its featuresat a glance. The butte around which they were travelling was nothingmore than an outlying "mesa" of this singular formation of the prairies.
After gazing, for a moment, on the far-off bluffs, our young hunterscontinued on their course, keeping around the southern side of theeminence. Still the cliffs rose perpendicularly, and offered no slopeby which they might be scaled. They appeared even higher on this side;and in some places hung over, with dark jutting rocks, and large treesgrowing horizontally outward.
At one place the boys had halted, and were gazing upward, when severalstrange-looking creatures suddenly appeared upon the edge of theprecipice above them. They were animals, but such as they had neverseen before. Each of them was as large as a common deer, and nearly ofthe same colour--reddish upon the back and flanks, though the throat,hips, and under parts, were of a whitish hue. They were nearlydeer-shaped, though of somewhat stouter proportions, and to these theybore a strong resemblance in many other respects. In the form of theirheads and general expression of their faces they resembled sheep morethan any other animals. But the most singular part of them was thehorns; and these enabled our hunters at a glance to tell what sort ofanimals they were. They were the "cimmarons," or wild sheep of theRocky Mountains.
In regard to their horns, they differed very much from one another; andat first sight there appeared to be two distinct species of animals.Some of them had short horns--not over six inches in length--rising fromthe crown of the head and bending slightly backward, without wideningmuch between the tips. These were the females of the flock. The males,however, presented an appearance altogether different, owing to theimmense size of their horns. These grew out immediately over theireyes, first curving backwards, and then forwards again, until theirpoints nearly touched the jaws of the animals on both sides. The hornsof some were more than a yard in length, and quite half as much incircumference at the base, where they were deeply indented withring-like grooves and protuberances, such as are seen in those of thecommon ram. These huge appendages gave the creatures a singular andimposing appearance, as they stood out upon the brink of the precipiceoutlined against the blue sky. There were about a dozen of them inall--both males and females,--but the males could be more plainly seen,as they were farther forward upon the cliff, looking down and snuffingthe tainted air.
As soon as our young hunters had recovered from their first surprise atthis novel sight, all three levelled their pieces with the intention offiring. But the cimmarons seemed to have guessed their design; for, asthe guns were pointed upward, they wheeled, and were out of sight in atwinkling.
The boys remained on the spot for more than a quarter of an hour, inhopes that the animals would again make their appearance on theprecipice above. The latter, however, did not return. They hadsatisfied their curiosity; or else, wiser than the antelopes, they werenot going to let it lure them into danger. Our hunters, therefore, wereat length constrained to leave the spot, and continue their search for apath that might lead upward.
They were now more anxious than ever to reach the summit of the butte.There was a flock of wild sheep upon it, and from these they hoped toreplenish their larder. As they proceeded, every crevice or ravine thatseemed to lead up the cliff was carefully examined; but upon all itssouthern front no practicable path could be discovered.
"There must be _some_ way up," said Francois, "else how could the sheephave got there?"
"Maybe," suggested Basil, "they were bred up there, and have never beendown to the plain."
"No," said Lucien, "that is not likely, brother. There can be no water,I think, upon the table above; and these animals require drink as wellas others. They must descend occasionally to the spring for it."
"Then there is a path," said Francois.
"No doubt, for _them_ there is," replied Lucien; "but for all that, wemay not be able to follow it. These animals, although hoofed as sheepare, can scale a cliff like c
ats, or spring down one like squirrels. Itis in that way they are enabled to escape from wolves, panthers, andother beasts who would prey upon them."
"I have heard," said Basil, "that they can fling themselves down for ahundred feet or more upon their horns, without receiving the slightestinjury. Is that true, Luce?"
"Both the Indians and trappers affirm it, and intelligent travellershave believed them. Whether it be true or not is a question amongnaturalists, that remains to be cleared up. It is certain that they canleap downward for a very great distance--that they can alight on thenarrowest shelves of a precipice without a hoof slipping--that they canspring across fearful chasms, and run swiftly along ledges where a dogor a wolf would not dare to venture. Indeed, they seem to delight insuch situations--as if it gave them a pleasure to court danger, just asa school-boy likes to luxuriate in perilous feats of agility."
"Are these the same that are called `big-horns' by the hunters?"demanded Francois.
"The same," answered Lucien; "`cimmaron' is the name given by theSpaniards--the earliest explorers of these regions. Naturalists havenamed them `argali,' from their resemblance to the argali (_Ovisammon_), or wild sheep of Europe. They are not the same species,however. In my opinion, they are _not wild sheep at all_, but trueantelopes, as much so as the chamois of the Alps, or the prong-horns ofthe prairie. Indeed, to say that our common sheep sprung from theargali seems a very absurd theory. There is but little resemblancebetween the two animals, except about the head and horns of the rams;and, I think, no circumstances could have caused such a difference asthere exists between them in other respects. I should say, then, thatthe big-horns are not sheep, but antelopes--_mountain_ _antelopes_, youmight call them, to distinguish them from their prong-horned cousins,who prefer to range over the plains, while they, on the contrary, spendmost of their time among the steep and craggy cliffs."
An exclamation from Basil, who was walking a few paces in advance, atthis moment summoned the attention of his brothers, and put an end tothis conversation. They had arrived at the eastern end of the butte,which on that side presented a different appearance from either of theothers. There was a deep ravine that indented the cliff, and along itschannel a sloping path appeared to lead up to the top. This channel wasfilled with large loose rocks, surrounded by an underwood of cacti andacacia thorns; and it seemed as though the slope was sufficiently easyto be ascended by a person on foot. Near the bottom of the ravine werevery large boulders; and a spring, more copious than the one where thehunters had encamped, ran out from among them, and flowed south-eastwardthrough a fringe of grass and willows.
As the boys came up to the spring branch, some tracks in the soft muddrew their attention. They were of an oblong shape, and larger than thefootprints of a man; but the deep holes made by five great claws at theend of each told what animal had made them. They were the tracks of thegrizzly bear. There could be no doubt of this, for there were theprints of the long plantigrade feet, the tubercules of the toes, and theholes where the curving claws had sunk several inches into the mud. Noother animal could have made such marks--not even the black or brownbear, whose claws are short in comparison with those of the grizzlymonster of the mountains.
For some moments our hunters hesitated under feelings of alarm; but, asthe animal that had made the tracks was not in sight, their fearsgradually subsided to some extent, and they began to consider what wasbest to be done. Should they go up the ravine, and endeavour to reachthe summit? This would only be carrying out their original intention,and they would have started upward without hesitation, had they notdiscovered the bear-tracks. Seeing these, however, had put a new aspecton the matter. If there were grizzly bears in the neighbourhood--andthis seemed very certain--the ravine was the most likely place to findthem in. Its thick underwood, with the numerous crevices that, likecaverns, appeared among the rocks on each side, were just such places asgrizzly bears delight in. Their lair might be in this very ravine, andit would be a dangerous business to stumble upon it in passing up. Butour young hunters were full of courage. They had a keen desire toascend the butte--partly out of curiosity, and partly to get a shot atthe big-horns--and this desire triumphed over prudence. They resolvedto carry through what they had begun; and at length commenced to ascend,Basil taking the lead.
It was severe climbing withal; and now and again they had to pullthemselves up by laying hold of branches and roots. They noticed that_there was a trail_, which they followed upward. No doubt thebig-horns, or some other animals, had made this trail as they passed upand down--though it was only distinguishable by a slight discolorationupon the rocks, and by the earth being packed firmer in some places, asif by hoofs or feet. A little better than half-way up the boys observeda fissure, like the entrance of a cave, on one side of the ravine andclose to the trail. Around this the earthy colour of the rocks, theabsence of herbage, and the paddled appearance of the soil, suggestedthe idea that some animal made its den there. They passed it insilence, climbing as quickly as the nature of the ground would allowthem, and looking backwards with fear. In a few minutes they hadreached the escarpment of the butte; and, raising themselves by theirhands they peeped over, and at once obtained a view of its wholetable-like summit.
It was, as they had conjectured, perfectly level upon the top, with anarea-surface of about twenty or thirty acres. Pine-trees grew thinlyover it, with here and there a bush or two of acacia, the species knownas "mezquite." There was plenty of grass among the trees, and largetussocks of "bunch grass" mingling with cactus and aloe plants, formed aspecies of undergrowth. This, however, was only at two or three spots,as for the most part the surface was open, and could be seen at a singleview. The hunters had hardly elevated their heads above the cliff, whenthe herd of big-horns became visible. They were at the moment near thewestern extremity of the table; and, to the astonishment of all, theyappeared leaping over the ground as if they were mad! They were notattempting to escape; for they had not as yet noticed the boys, who, ongetting above, had crept cautiously behind some bushes. On thecontrary, the animals were skipping about in different directions at thesame time, and bounding high into the air. After a moment it wasobserved that only those with the large horns were taking part in thisexercise, while the others were browsing quietly near them. It was soonevident what the males were about. They were engaged in a fierceconflict; and their angry snorts, with the loud cracking of their horns,told that they were in terrible earnest. Now they backed from eachother--as rams usually do--and anon they would dash forward until theirheads met with a crash, as though the skulls of both had been splinteredby the concussion. Sometimes two fought by themselves, and at othertimes three or four of them would come together, as if it matteredlittle which was the antagonist. They all appeared to be equally theenemies of one another. Strange to say, the ewes did not seem totrouble themselves about the matter. Most of these were feedingquietly, or if at times they looked up towards their belligerent lords,it was with an air of nonchalance and indifference, as if they carednothing at all about the result.
Our hunters felt confident that they had the whole flock in a trap.They had only to guard the pass by which they themselves had come up,and then hunt the big-horns over the table at their leisure. It wasagreed, therefore, that Lucien with Marengo should remain there, whileBasil and Francois stole up for a first shot. They lost no time inputting this plan into execution. They perceived that the fightcompletely occupied the attention of the animals; and, taking advantageof this, Basil and Francois crept over the ground--shelteringthemselves, as well as they could--until they had got within easy range.Both arrived together behind a little clump of acacias; and, by asignal from Basil, they raised themselves together to take aim. As theydid so, they saw one of the rams, who had been backing himself for arush, suddenly disappear over the edge of the cliff! They thought hehad tumbled over--as his legs were the last of him they had seen--butthey had no time to speculate upon the matter, as both pulled trigger atthe moment
. Two of the animals were laid prostrate by their fire; whilethe rest bounded off, ran out to a point of the table, and there halted.
Basil and Francois leaped to their feet, shouting for Lucien to be onthe alert: but, to their great surprise, the cimmarons, as if newlyterrified by their shouts, and finding their retreat cut off, sprangover the precipice, disappearing instantly from view!
"They must be all killed," thought Basil and Francois; and, callingLucien to come up, all three ran to the point where the animals hadleaped off, and looked over. They could see the plain below, but nobig-horns! What had become of them?
"Yonder!" cried Francois; "yonder they go!" and he pointed far out uponthe prairie where several reddish-looking objects were seen flying likethe wind toward the far bluffs of the Llano Estacado. Lucien nowdirected the eyes of his brothers to several ledge-like steps upon thecliff, which, no doubt, the animals had made use of in their descent,and had thus been enabled to reach the bottom in safety.
As soon as the cimmarons were out of sight, the hunters turned towardsthe two that had been shot--both of which, a male and female, laystretched upon the grass and quite dead. The boys were about tocommence skinning them, when Basil and Francois remembered what they hadobserved just before firing; and, curious to convince themselves whetherthe big-horn had actually tumbled over the cliff by accident or leapedoff by design, they walked forward to the spot. On looking over theedge, they saw a tree shaking violently below them, and among itsbranches a large red body was visible. It was the cimmaron; and, totheir astonishment, they perceived that he was hanging suspended by oneof his huge horns, while his body and legs, kicking and struggling, hungout at their full length in the empty air! It was evident he hadtumbled from the top contrary to his intentions; and had been caughtaccidentally in the branches of the pine. It was a painful sight towitness the efforts of the poor creature; but there was no means ofgetting him off the tree, as he was far beyond their reach; and Basil,having loaded his rifle, in order to put an end to his agony, sent abullet through his heart. The shot did not alter his position--as thehorn still held on to the branch--but the animal ceased struggling andhung down dead,--to remain there, doubtless, until some hungry vultureshould espy him from afar, and, swooping down, strip the flesh from hisswinging carcass!