CHAPTER FIVE.
IN A BAD FIX.
A few days afterwards, another adventure befell me; and I began to thinkthat I was destined to become a hero among the "mountain men." A smallparty of the traders, myself among the number, had pushed forward aheadof the caravan. Our object was to arrive at Santa Fe a day or twobefore the waggons, in order to have everything arranged with theGovernor for their entrance into that capital. We took the route by theCimmaron.
Our road, for a hundred miles or so, lay through a barren desert,without game, and almost without water. The buffalo had alreadydisappeared, and deer were equally scarce. We had to content ourselveswith the dried meat which we had brought from the settlements. We werein the deserts of the artemisia. Now and then we could see a strayantelope bounding away before us, but keeping far out of range. They,too, seemed to be unusually shy.
On the third day after leaving the caravan, as we were riding near theCimmaron, I thought I observed a pronged head disappearing behind aswell in the prairie. My companions were sceptical, and none of themwould go with me; so, wheeling out of the trail, I started alone. Oneof the men, for Gode was behind, kept charge of my dog, as I did notchoose to take him with me, lest he might alarm the antelopes. My horsewas fresh and willing; and whether successful or not, I knew that Icould easily overtake the party by camping-time.
I struck directly towards the spot where I had seen the object. Itappeared to be only half a mile or so from the trail. It proved moredistant--a common illusion in the crystal atmosphere of these uplandregions.
A curiously-formed ridge, a _couteau des prairies_ on a small scale,traversed the plain from east to west. A thicket of cactus covered partof its summit. Towards this thicket I directed myself.
I dismounted at the bottom of the slope, and leading my horse silentlyup among the cacti plants, tied him to one of their branches. I thencrept cautiously through the thorny leaves towards the point where Ifancied I had seen the game. To my joy, not one antelope, but a braceof those beautiful animals were quietly grazing beyond; but, alas! toofar off for the range of my rifle. They were fully three hundred yardsdistant, upon a smooth, grassy slope. There was not even a sage bush tocover me, should I attempt to approach them. What was to be done?
I lay for several minutes, thinking over the different tricks known inhunter-craft for taking the antelope. Should I imitate their call?Should I hoist my handkerchief, and try to lure them up? I saw thatthey were too shy; for, at short intervals, they threw up their gracefulheads and looked inquiringly around them. I remembered the red blanketon my saddle. I could display this upon the cactus bushes; perhaps itwould attract them.
I had no alternative, and was turning to go back for the blanket, when,all at once, my eye rested upon a clay-coloured line running across theprairie beyond where the animals were feeding. It was a break in thesurface of the plain, a buffalo road, or the channel of an arroyo; ineither case the very cover I wanted, for the animals were not a hundredyards from it, and were getting still nearer to it as they fed.
Creeping back out of the thicket, I ran along the side of the slopetowards a point where I had noticed that the ridge was depressed to theprairie level. Here, to my surprise, I found myself on the banks of abroad arroyo, whose water, clear and shallow, ran slowly over a bed ofsand and gypsum.
The banks were low, not over three feet above the surface of the water,except where the ridge impinged upon the stream. Here there was a highbluff; and, hurrying round its base, I entered the channel, andcommenced wading upward.
As I had anticipated, I soon came to a bend where the stream, afterrunning parallel to the ridge, swept round and canoned through it. Atthis place I stopped, and looked cautiously over the bank. Theantelopes had approached within less than rifle range of the arroyo; butthey were yet far above my position. They were still quietly feedingand unconscious of danger. I again bent down and waded on.
It was a difficult task proceeding in this way. The bed of the creekwas soft and yielding, and I was compelled to tread slowly and silentlylest I should alarm the game; but I was cheered in my exertions by theprospect of fresh venison for my supper.
After a weary drag of several hundred yards, I came opposite to a smallclump of wormwood bushes growing out of the bank. "I may be highenough," thought I; "these will serve for cover."
I raised my body gradually until I could see through the leaves. I wasin the right spot.
I brought my rifle to a level, sighted for the heart of the buck, andfired. The animal leaped from the ground, and fell back lifeless.
I was about to rush forward and secure my prize, when I observed thedoe, instead of running off as I had expected, go up to her fallenpartner and press her tapering nose to his body. She was not more thantwenty yards from me; and I could plainly see that her look was one ofinquiry and bewilderment. All at once she seemed to comprehend thefatal truth; and throwing back her head, commenced uttering the mostpiteous cries, at the same time running in circles around the body.
I stood wavering between two minds. My first impulse had been to reloadand kill the doe; but her plaintive voice entered my heart, disarming meof all hostile intentions. Had I dreamt of witnessing this painfulspectacle, I should not have left the trail. But the mischief was nowdone. "I have worse than killed her," thought I; "it will be better todespatch her at once."
Actuated by these principles of a common, but to her fatal, humanity, Irested the butt of my rifle and reloaded. With a faltering hand I againlevelled the piece and fired.
My nerves were steady enough to do the work. When the smoke floatedaside, I could see the little creature bleeding upon the grass, her headresting against the body of her murdered mate.
I shouldered my rifle, and was about to move forward, when to myastonishment, I found that I was caught by the feet. I was held firmly,as if my legs had been screwed in a vice!
I made an effort to extricate myself; another, more violent, and equallyunsuccessful; and, with a third, I lost my balance, and fell back uponthe water.
Half-suffocated, I regained my upright position, but only to find that Iwas held as fast as ever.
Again I struggled to free my limbs. I could neither move them backwardnor forward, to the right nor to the left; and I became sensible that Iwas gradually going down. Then the fearful truth flashed upon me: I wassinking in a quicksand.
A feeling of horror came over me. I renewed my efforts with the energyof desperation. I leant to one side, then to the other, almostwrenching my knees from their sockets. My feet remained fast as ever.I could not move them an inch.
The soft, clinging sand already overtopped my horseskin boots, wedgingthem around my ankles, so that I was unable to draw them off; and Icould feel that I was still sinking, slowly but surely, as though somesubterranean monster were leisurely dragging me down! This very thoughtcaused me a fresh thrill of horror, and I called aloud for help. Towhom? There was no one within miles of me--no living thing. Yes! theneigh of my horse answered me from the hill, mocking my despair.
I bent forward as well as my constrained position would permit, and,with frenzied fingers, commenced tearing up the sand. I could barelyreach the surface; and the little hollow I was able to make filled upalmost as soon as it had been formed.
A thought occurred to me. My rifle might support me, placedhorizontally. I looked around for it. It was not to be seen. It hadsunk beneath the sand.
Could I throw my body flat, and prevent myself from sinking deeper? No.The water was two feet in depth. I should drown at once.
This last last hope left me as soon as formed. I could think of no planto save myself. I could make no further effort. A strange stuporseized upon me. My very thoughts became paralysed. I knew that I wasgoing mad. For a moment I was mad!
After an interval my senses returned. I made an effort to rouse my mindfrom its paralysis, in order that I might meet death, which I nowbelieved to be certain, as a man should.
/> I stood erect. My eyes had sunk to the prairie level, and rested uponthe still bleeding victims of my cruelty. My heart smote me at thesight. Was I suffering a retribution of God?
With humble and penitent thoughts I turned my face to heaven, almostdreading that some sign of omnipotent anger would scowl upon me fromabove. But no! The sun was shining as brightly as ever, and the bluecanopy of the world was without a cloud.
I gazed upward, and prayed with an earnestness known only to the heartsof men in positions of peril like mine.
As I continued to look up, an object attracted my attention. Againstthe sky I distinguished the outlines of a large bird. I knew it to bethe obscene bird of the plains, the buzzard vulture. Whence had itcome? Who knows? Far beyond the reach of human eye it had seen orscented the slaughtered antelopes, and on broad, silent wing was nowdescending to the feast of death.
Presently another, and another, and many others, mottled the blue fieldof the heavens, curving and wheeling silently earthward. Then theforemost swooped down upon the bank, and after gazing around for amoment, flapped off towards its prey.
In a few seconds the prairie was black with filthy birds, whichclambered over the dead antelopes, and beat their wings against eachother, while they tore out the eyes of the quarry with their fetidbeaks.
And now came gaunt wolves, sneaking and hungry, stealing out of thecactus thicket, and loping, coward-like, over the green swells of theprairie. These, after a battle, drove away the vultures, and tore upthe prey, all the while growling and snapping vengefully at each other.
"Thank Heaven! I shall at least be saved from this!"
I was soon relieved from the sight. My eyes had sunk below the level ofthe bank. I had looked my last on the fair green earth. I could nowsee only the clayey walls that contained the river, and the water thatran unheeding by me.
Once more I fixed my gaze upon the sky, and with prayerful heartendeavoured to resign myself to my fate.
In spite of my efforts to be calm, the memories of earthly pleasures,and friends, and home came over me, causing me at intervals to breakinto wild paroxysms, and make fresh, though fruitless, struggles.
Again I was attracted by the neighing of my horse.
A thought entered my mind, filling me with fresh hopes. "Perhaps myhorse--"
I lost not a moment. I raised my voice to its highest pitch, and calledthe animal by name. I knew that he would come at my call. I had tiedhim but slightly. The cactus limb would snap off. I called again,repeating words that were well known to him. I listened with a boundingheart. For a moment there was silence. Then I heard the quick soundsof his hoofs, as though the animal were rearing and struggling to freehimself. Then I could distinguish the stroke of his heels in a measuredand regular gallop.
Nearer came the sounds; nearer and clearer, until the gallant bruteappeared upon the bank above me. There he halted, and, flinging backhis tossed mane, uttered a shrill neigh. He was bewildered, and lookedto every side, snorting loudly.
I knew that, having once seen me, he would not stop until he had pressedhis nose against my cheek, for this was his usual custom. Holding outmy hands, I again uttered the magic words.
Now glancing downward, he perceived me, and stretching himself, sprangout into the channel. The next moment I held him by the bridle.
There was no time to be lost. I was still going down; and my armpitswere fast nearing the surface of the quicksand.
I caught the lariat, and, passing it under the saddle-girths, fastenedit in a tight, firm knot. I then looped the trailing end, making itsecure around my body. I had left enough of the rope, between thebit-ring and the girths, to enable me to check and guide the animal, incase the drag upon my body should be too painful.
All this while the dumb brute seemed to comprehend what I was about. Heknew, too, the nature of the ground on which he stood, for during theoperation he kept lifting his feet alternately to prevent himself fromsinking.
My arrangements were at length completed; and with a feeling of terribleanxiety I gave my horse the signal to move forward. Instead of goingoff with a start, the intelligent animal stepped away slowly, as thoughhe understood my situation. The lariat tightened, I felt my bodymoving, and the next moment experienced a wild delight, a feeling Icannot describe, as I found myself dragged out of the sand!
I sprang to my feet with a shout of joy. I rushed up to my steed, andthrowing my arms around his neck, kissed him. He answered my embracewith a low whimper, that told me I was understood.
I looked for my rifle. Fortunately, it had not sunk deeply, and I soonfound it. My boots were behind me, but I stayed not to look for them,being smitten with a wholesome dread of the place where I had left them.
It was sundown before I reached camp, where I was met by the inquiriesof my wondering companions. "Did you come across the `goats'?""Where's your boots?" "Whether have you been hunting or fishing?"
I answered all these questions by relating my adventures; and that nightI was again the hero of the camp-fire.