CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
NAVAJOA.
It was near evening of the next day when we arrived at the foot of thesierra, at the debouchure of the canon. We could not follow the streamany farther, as there was no path by the channel. It would be necessaryto pass over the ridge that formed the southern jaw of the chasm. Therewas a plain trail among scrubby pines; and, following our guide, wecommenced riding up the mountain.
After ascending for an hour or so, by a fearful road along the verybrink of the precipice, we climbed the crest of the ridge, and lookedeastward. We had reached the goal of our journey. The town of theNavajoes was before us.
"Voila!"
"Mira el pueblo!"
"Thar's the town!"
"Hurrah!" were the exclamations that broke from the hunters.
"Oh, God! at last it is!" muttered Seguin, with a singular expression ofcountenance. "Oh, God be praised! Halt, comrades! halt!"
Our reins were tightened, and we sat on our weary horses looking overthe plain. A magnificent panorama, magnificent under any circumstances,lay before us; but its interest was heightened by the peculiarcircumstances under which we viewed it.
We are at the western extremity of an oblong valley, looking up itlengthwise. It is not a valley, though so called in the language ofSpanish America, but a plain walled in on all sides by mountains. It iselliptical in form, the diameter of its foci being ten or twelve milesin length. Its shortest diameter is five or six miles. It has thesurface of a green meadow, and its perfect level is unbroken by brake,bush, or hillock. It looks like some quiet lake transformed into anemerald.
It is bisected by a line of silvery brightness that curves gracefullythrough its whole extent, marking the windings of a crystal stream.
But the mountains! What wild-looking mountains, particularly those onthe north side of the valley! They are granite upheaved. Nature musthave warred at the birth of these; the very sight of them suggests thethroes of a troubled planet. Huge rocks hang over, only half restingupon fearful precipices; vast boulders that seem as though the touch ofa feather would cause them to topple down. Grim chasms open into deep,dark defiles, that lie silent, and solemn, and frowning. Here andthere, stunted trees, the cedar and pinon, hang horizontally out,clinging along the cliffs. The unsightly limbs of the cactus, and thegloomy foliage of the creosote bush, grow together in seams of therocks, heightening their character of ruggedness and gloom. Such is thesouthern barrier of the valley.
Look upon the northern sierra! Here is a contrast, a new geology. Nota rock of granite meets the eye; but there are others piled as high, andglistening with the whiteness of snow. These are mountains of the milkyquartz. They exhibit a variety of peaks, naked and shining; crags thathang over deep, treeless ravines, and needle-shaped summits aspiring tothe sky. They too have their vegetation, a vegetation that suggestsideas of the desert and desolation.
The two sierras appear to converge at the eastern end of the valley. Weare upon a transverse ridge that shuts it in upon the west, and fromthis point we view the picture.
Where the valley ends eastwardly, we perceive a dark background lying upagainst the mountains. We know it is a pine-forest, but we are at toogreat a distance to distinguish the trees. Out of this forest thestream appears to issue; and upon its banks, near the border of thewoods, we perceive a collection of strange pyramidal structures. Theyare houses. It is the town of Navajoa! Our eyes were directed upon itwith eager gaze. We could trace the outlines of the houses, though theystood nearly ten miles distant. They suggested images of a strangearchitecture. There were some standing apart from the rest, withterraced roofs, and we could see there were banners waving over them.One, larger than the rest, presented the appearance of a temple. It wasout on the open plain, and by the glass we could detect numerous formsclustered upon its top--the forms of human beings. There were othersupon the roofs and parapets of the smaller houses; and many more movingupon the plain nearer us, driving before them flocks of animals, mules,and mustangs. Some were down upon the banks of the river, and others wecould see plunging about in the water.
Several droves of horses, whose mottled flanks showed their breed, werequietly browsing on the open prairie. Flocks of wild swans, geese, andgruyas winged their way up and down the meandering current of thestream.
The sun was setting. The mountains were tinged with an amber-colouredlight; and the quartzose crystals sparkled on the peaks of the southernsierra.
It was a scene of silent beauty. How long, thought I, ere its silencewould be broken by the sounds of ravage and ruin!
We remained for some time gazing up the valley, without anyone utteringhis thoughts. It was the silence that precedes resolve. In the mindsof my companions there were varied emotions at play, varied in kind asthey differed in intensity.
Some were holy. Men sat straining their eyes over the long reach ofmeadow, thinking, or fancying, that in the distance they mightdistinguish a loved object--a wife, a sister, a daughter, or perhaps theobject of a still dearer and deeper affection. No; the last could notbe. None could have been more deeply affected than he who was seekingfor his child. A father's love was the strongest passion there.
Alas! there were other emotions in the bosoms of those around me,passions dark and sinful. Fierce looks were bent upon the town. Someof these betokened fierce feelings of revenge; others indicated thedesire of plunder; and others still spoke, fiend-like, of murder! Therehad been mutterings of this from day to day as we journeyed. Mendisappointed in their golden dreams had been heard to talk about theprice of scalps!
By a command from Seguin the hunters drew back among the trees, andentered into a hurried council. How was the town to be taken? We couldnot approach it in the open light. The inhabitants would see us beforewe could ride up, and make their escape to the forest beyond. Thiswould defeat the whole purpose of our expedition.
Could not a party get round to the eastern end of the valley and preventthis? Not through the plain itself, for the mountains rested upon itssurface, without either foothills or paths along their sides. In someplaces vast cliffs rose to the height of a thousand feet, steppingdirectly upon the level plain. This idea was given up.
Could we not turn the southern sierra, and come in through the forestitself? This would bring us close to the houses under cover. The guidewas questioned, and answered in the affirmative. But that could only beaccomplished by making a detour of nearly fifty miles. We had no timefor such a journey, and the thought was abandoned.
The town, then, must be approached in the night. This was the only planpracticable; at least, the most likely to succeed. It was adopted.
It was not Seguin's intention to make a night attack, but only tosurround the buildings, keeping at some distance out, and remain inambush till the morning. All retreat would thus be cut off, and weshould make sure of taking our captives under the light of day.
The men threw themselves to the ground, and, holding their bridles,waited the going down of the sun.