CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
LIFE ON THE LOST MOUNTAIN.
The exciting events above recorded, as occurring in quick succession,are followed by a period of repose lasting for days. Alike reigns it onthe mountain summit and around its base; in the camp of the besieged asof the besiegers.
Withal, in the latter there is no lack of activity; parties go and comeat all hours, but more especially during those of the night. Scoutssent out; it may be for many purposes. But one large detail is observedon a certain day to make the complete round of the mountain, every hereand there halting with front towards it, as if for minute examination ofits cliffs from base to summit; evidently to be satisfied whether therebe any possible chance for the white men to reach the plain otherwisethan down that chine cut by the watercourse.
While making this _reconnaissance_ they have been narrowly watched byeyes from above, and as no particular point has been observed to attracttheir attention, it is concluded that they deem their pale-facedprisoners quite secure, only calling for a little patience ere they mayevidently lay hands on them.
The same movement also gives assurance to their intended victims, but ofa kind not so satisfactory. It tells them how determined their enemyis, how retentive his grasp, and implacable his vengeance. All thiswith no increased hope on their part of being able to escape him.Thought of how has not yet taken shape in their minds. How could it?So many present facts and fears engrossing them, they have found littletime to reflect on the future.
And a new fear has now arisen which calls for steps to be taken. Theremay be other grizzly bears on the _mesa_, and if so these monsters willbe prowling around the camp to assail it at any instant. Better they bemet outside at a distance off, there attacked, and if possibleexterminated.
This conclusion come to, Don Estevan gives orders for all to arm, and ageneral _battue_ is made over the summit of the Cerro. Paths are hackedthrough the underwood everywhere, laying open many a spot never beforetrodden by foot of man. Strange birds are flushed from their nests, andstrange animals are seen stealing away through the thick tangle of_llianas_, chiefly of the reptilian order, as armadillos, lizards, thecurious horned frog (_Agama cornuta_), and serpents--most numerous ofall that whose retreat is marked by the defiant rattle which has givenit its name. Scores of _cascabeles_ are started out of the dead leavesand branches, their vibratory "skirr" resounding everywhere.
But quadrupeds turn up as well. At intervals the crack of gun tells ofone shot at, whether killed or no. Now a wild sheep, now a prong-hornantelope, or it may be but a hare or rabbit. The great wolf is alsofound there, and his lesser and more cowardly congener, the coyote; butno more bears--grizzly or other--nor sign of them. Evidently the twokilled at the camp were the sole monarchs of the mountain.
The day's hunt, for it occupied a whole day, gives satisfaction in moreways than one. First, by doing away with all apprehension of dangerfrom _Ursus ferox_; secondly, by affording a plentiful supply of presentfood; and, thirdly, in there being still more on the mountain, givingproof of the abundance of them.
Nor is the vegetable element lacking, but present in all its varietiesof root, fruit, and berry. The _mezcal_, whose baked stem forms staplefood for their enemies, grows on the _mesa_. Its use is known to the_gambusino_, as others of the miners. Several sorts of _mezquite_ treesare found there, whose long pendulous _siliques_ contain seeds which canbe ground into a meal making nutritious bread, while the cones of theedible pine (_Pinus edulis_)--"_pinon-nuts_" as called--are in quantityall around. For fruit there are several varieties of the cactus, withthat of pear-shape, and all the rich juiciness of a pear, the famed_pitathaya_. In short, the Cerro Perdido is a very oasis, itscornucopia peculiar to the desert. With so bountiful a supply ofprovisions the besieged need not fear famine, at least for a long time.Their resources, carefully husbanded, may last for weeks.
And on time rests their only hope; their sole chance of being rescueddepending on that, by some means or other, their situation may becomeknown to their friends at Arispe, or their countrymen elsewhere.
But what likelihood of this? As already stated, the Lost Mountain isout of the line of all travel and traffic. Months, a year, nay, yearsmay elapse ere a wayfarer of any kind stray to it, or near it. So theirchances of being seen there by friendly eyes, to say naught of theirposition being understood, are as those of castaways on a desert isle inmid-ocean.
And as shipwrecked men they hoist signals of distress. Any oneapproaching that solitary eminence from the south might wonder to see aflag floating from a tall staff over its southern end, giving it all thegreater resemblance to a fortress with banner waving above. A tricolourflag, bearing the symbolic badge of the Mexican Republic--the Eagle uponthe Nopal! It is that Don Estevan had meant to have erected over thenew mine, now little likely ever to be displayed there. For now it isunfolded to tell a tale of threatening disaster, and attract the eyes ofthose who may do something to avert it.
But for this dark uncertainty of future there is nothing irksome, noteven disagreeable, in their present life. On the contrary, it might beeven called pleasant; plenty to eat, plenty to drink, sufficient freedomof range, a sapphire sky above, with an atmosphere around them whoseheat is tempered by breezes ever blowing, ever laden with the fragranceof fruit and flower.
And no scene of sombre gloomy silence; instead, one enlivened by thenotes of many wild warblers, both diurnal and nocturnal. By day thejarring yet cheering cry of the blue jay and the red cardinal; themewing of the catbird, or the "hew-hew" of hawk in pursuit of hisvictim. By night, the more melodious, all incomparable song of the_czentzontle_--mockingbird of Mexico--oft intermingled with anothersong, but little less powerful or sweet, that of the _cuitlacoche_--asecond species of New World nightingale, not so well known.
Life in the odd aerial camp now settles down into a sort of routine,each day having its separate calls and duties. The watch is, of course,kept up, and with no falling off in its vigilance. For although thebesiegers have not again shown any sign of an intention to try theassault, who knows what may be in the mind of these subtle savages?
Only at night need there be any fear, and only when it is darkest. Atother times the vidette duty is a matter of easy fulfilment.
In truth the miners might almost fancy themselves in picnic, having ahappy time of it, halfway between earth and heaven. But they are notthere by choice, too well knowing its stern necessity. And this, withthe dark doubtful future, robs them of all zest for enjoyment. So thehours pass not merrily, but wearily.