CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
The Lepans were themselves going northwards, and for a few days weskirted, in company with them, the western borders of the Cross Timbers.The immense prairies of Texas are for hundreds and hundreds of milesbordered on the east by a belt of thick and almost impenetrable forests,called the Cross Timbers. Their breadth varies from seventy to onehundred miles. There the oak and hiccory grow tall and beautiful, butthe general appearance of the country is poor, broken, and rugged.These forests abound with deer and bears, and sometimes the buffalo,when hotly pursued by the Indians in the prairies, will take refuge inits closest thickets. Most of the trees contain hives of bees full of avery delicate honey, the great luxury of the pioneers along theseborders.
We now took our leave of the Lepans and our two white friends, who wouldfain have accompanied us to the Comanches had there been a chance ofreturning to civilisation through a safe road; as it was, Gabriel,Roche, and I resumed our journey alone. During two or three days wefollowed the edge of the wood, every attempt to penetrate into theinterior proving quite useless, so thick were the bushes and thornybriars. Twice or thrice we perceived on some hills, at a greatdistance, smoke and fires, but we could not tell what Indians might bethere encamped.
We had left the Timbers and had scarcely advanced ten miles in awesterly direction, when a dog of a most miserable appearance joined ourcompany. He was soon followed by two others as lean and as weak ashimself. They were evidently Indian dogs of the wolf breed, andmiserable, starved animals they looked, with the ribs almost bare, whiletheir tongues, parched and hanging downwards, showed clearly the want ofwater in these horrible regions. We had ourselves been twenty-fourhours without having tasted any, and our horses were quite exhausted.
We were slowly descending the side of a swell in the prairie, when abuffalo passed at full speed, ten yards before us, closely pursued by aTonquewa Indian (a ferocious tribe), mounted upon a small horse, whosegraceful form excited our admiration. This savage was armed with a longlance, and covered with a cloak of deer-skin, richly ornamented, hislong black hair undulating with the breeze.
A second Indian soon followed the first, and they were evidently so muchexcited with the chase as not to perceive us, although I addressed thelast one who passed not ten yards from me. The next day we met with aband of Wakoes Indians, another subdivision of the Comanches or of theApaches, and not yet seen or even mentioned by any traveller. They wereall mounted upon fine tall horses, evidently a short time beforepurchased at the Mexican settlements, for some of them had their shoesstill on their feet. They immediately offered us food and water, andgave us fresh steeds, for our own were quite broken down, and couldscarcely drag themselves along. We encamped with them that day on abeautiful spot, where our poor animals recovered a little. We bled themfreely, an operation which probably saved them to share with us manymore toils and dangers.
The next day we arrived at the Wakoe village, pleasantly situated uponthe banks of a cold and clear stream, which glided through a romanticvalley, studded here and there with trees just sufficient to vary thelandscape, without concealing its beauties. All around the village werevast fields of Indian corn and melons; further off numerous herds ofcattle, sheep, and horses were grazing; while the women were busy dryingbuffalo meat. In this hospitable village we remained ten days, by whichtime we and our beasts had entirely recovered from our fatigues.
This tribe is certainly far superior in civilisation and comforts to allother tribes of Indians, the Shoshones not excepted. The Wakoe wigwamsare well built, forming long streets, admirable for their cleanness andregularity. They are made of long posts, neatly squared, firmly fixedinto the ground, and covered over with tanned buffalo hides, the roofbeing formed of white straw, plaited much finer than the common summerhats of Boston manufacture. These dwellings are of a conical form,thirty feet in height and fifteen in diameter. Above the partitionwalls of the principal room are two rows of beds, neatly arranged, as onboard of packet-ships. The whole of their establishment, in fact,proves that they not only live at ease, but also enjoy a high degree ofcomfort and luxury.
Attached to every wigwam is another dwelling of less dimensions, thelower part of which is used as a provision store. Here is always to befound a great quantity of pumpkins, melons, dried peaches, grapes, andplums, cured venison, and buffalo tongues. Round the store is a kind ofbalcony, leading to a small room above it. What it contained I knownot, though I suspect it is consecrated to the rites of the Wakoereligion. Kind and hospitable as they were, they refused three or fourtimes to let us penetrate in this sanctum sanctorum, and of course wewould not press them further.
The Wakoes, or, to say better, their villages, are unknown, except to afew trappers and hunters, who will never betray the kind hospitalitythey have received by showing the road to them. There quiet andhappiness have reigned undisturbed for many centuries. The hunters andwarriors themselves will often wander in the distant settlements of theYankees and Mexicans to procure seeds, for they are very partial togardening; they cultivate tobacco; in fact, they are, I believe, theonly indians who seriously occupy themselves with agriculture, whichoccupation does not prevent them from being a powerful and warlikepeople.
As well as the Apaches and the Comanches, the Wakoes are always onhorseback; they are much taller and possess more bodily strength thaneither of these two nations, whom they also surpass in ingenuity. A fewyears ago, three hundred Texians, under the command of General Smith,met an equal party of the Wakoes hunting to the east of the CrossTimbers. As these last had many fine horses and an immense provision ofhides and cured meat, the Texians thought that nothing could be moreeasy than routing the Indians and stealing their booty. They were,however, sadly mistaken; when they made their attack they were almostall cut to pieces, and the unburied bones of two hundred and fortyTexians remain blanching in the prairie, as a monument of their ownrascality and the prowess of the Wakoes.
Comfortable and well treated as we were by that kind people, we couldnot remain longer with them; so we continued our toilsome and solitaryjourney. The first day was extremely damp and foggy; a pack of sneakingwolves were howling about, within a few yards of us, but the sun cameout about eight o'clock, dispersing the fog and also the wolves.
We still continued our former course, and found an excellent road forfifteen miles, when we entered a singular tract of land unlike anythingwe had ever before seen. North and south, as far as the eye couldreach, nothing could be seen but a sandy plain, covered with dwarf oakstwo and three feet high, and bearing innumerable acorns of a large size.This desert, although our horses sank to the very knee in the sand, wewere obliged to cross; night came on before the passage was effected,and we were quite tired with the fatigues of the day. We were, however,fortunate enough to find a cool and pure stream of running water, on theopposite side of which the prairie had been recently burnt, and thefresh grass was just springing up; here we encamped.
We started the next morning, and ascended a high ridge; we were in greatspirits, little anticipating the horrible tragedy in which we shouldsoon have to play our parts. The country before us was extremely roughand broken; we pushed on, however, buffeting, turning, and twistingabout until nearly dark, crossing and recrossing deep gullies, ourprogress in one direction impeded by steep hills, and in another byyawning ravines, until, finally, we encamped at night not fifteen milesfrom where we had started in the morning. During the day, we had foundlarge plum patches, and had picked a great quantity of this fruit, whichwe found sweet and refreshing after our toil.
On the following morning, after winding about until noon among thehills, we at length reached a beautiful table land, covered withmusqueet trees. So suddenly did we leave behind us the rough and uneventract of country and enter a level valley, and so instantaneous was thetransition, that the change of scenery in a theatre was brought forciblyto our minds; it was turning from the bold and wild scenery of SalvatorRosa to dwell upon the smiling landscape of a Poussi
n or Claude Lorrain.
On starting in the morning, nothing was to be seen but a rough andrugged succession of hills before us, piled one upon another, eachsucceeding hill rising above its neighbour. At the summit of thehighest of these hills, the beautiful and fertile plain came suddenly toview, and we were immediately upon it, without one of us anticipatinganything of the kind. The country between the Cross Timbers and theRocky Mountains rises by steps, if I may so call them. The travellerjourneying west meets, every fifty or sixty miles, with a ridge of highbills; as he ascends these, he anticipates a corresponding descent uponthe opposite side, but in most instances, on reaching this summit, hefinds before him a level and fertile prairie. This is certainly thecase south of the Red River, whatever it may be to the northward of it.
We halted an hour or two on reaching this beautiful table land, to restourselves and give our horses an opportunity to graze. Little villagesof prairie dogs were scattered here and there, and we killedhalf-a-dozen of them for our evening meal. The fat of these animals, Ihave forgotten to say, is asserted to be an infallible remedy for therheumatism.
In the evening, we again started, and encamped, an hour after sun-down,upon the banks of a clear running stream. We had, during the last partof our journey, discovered the tops of three or four high mountains inthe distance; we knew them to be "The Crows," by the description of themgiven to us by the Wakoes.
Early the next morning we were awakened by the warbling of innumerablesinging birds, perched among the bushes along the borders of the stream.Pleasing as was the concert, we were obliged to leave it behind andpursue our weary march. Throughout the day we had an excellent road,and when night same, we had travelled about thirty-five miles. Themountains, the summits of which we had perceived the evening before,were now plainly visible, and answered to the descriptions of theWakoes, as those in the neighbourhood of the narrows of the Red River.
We now considered that we were near the end of our journey. That nightwe swallowed a very scanty supper, laid down to sleep, and dreamed ofbeaver tail and buffalo hump and tongues. The next day, at noon, wecrossed the bed of a stream, which was evidently a large river duringthe rainy season. At that time but little water was found in it, andthat so salt, it was impossible even for our horses to drink it.
Towards night, we came to the banks of a clear stream, the waters ofwhich were bubbling along, over a bed of golden sand, running nearlynorth and south, while, at a distance of some six miles, and to ourleft, was the chain of hills I have previously mentioned; rising abovethe rest, were three peaks, which really deserved the name of mountains.We crossed the stream and encamped on the other side. Scarcely had weunsaddled our horses, when we perceived coming towards us a large partyof savages, whose war paint, with the bleeding scalps hanging to theirbelts, plainly showed the errand from which they were returning; theyencamped on the other side of the stream, within quarter of a mile fromus.
That night we passed watching, shivering, and fasting, for we dared notlight a fire in the immediate vicinity of our neighbours, whom we couldhear singing and rejoicing. The next morning, long before dawn, westole away quietly and trotted briskly till noon, when we encountered adeep and almost impassable ravine. There we were obliged to halt, andpass the remainder of the day endeavouring to discover a passage. Thisoccupied us till night-fall, and we had nothing to eat but plums andberries. Melancholy were our thoughts when we reflected upon thedifficulties we might shortly have to encounter; and gloomy were ourforebodings as we wrapt ourselves in our blankets, half starved andoppressed with feelings of uncertainty as to our present position andour future destinies.
The night passed without alarm, but the next morning we were sickened bya horrible scene which was passing about half a mile from us. A partyof the same Indians, whom we had seen the evening before, werebutchering some of their captives, while several others were busycooking the flesh, and many were eating it. We were rooted to the spotby a thrill of horror we could not overcome; even our horses seemed toknow by instinct that something horrible was acting below, for theysnuffed the air, and with their ears pointed straight forward, trembledso as to satisfy us that for the present we could not avail ourselves oftheir services. Gabriel crept as near as he could to the party, leavingus to await his return in a terrible state of suspense and anxiety.When he rejoined us, it appeared our sight had not deceived us. Therewere nine more prisoners, who would probably undergo the same fate onthe following day; four, he said, were Comanches, the other five,Mexican females,--two young girls and three women.
The savages had undoubtedly made an inroad upon San Miguel or Taos, thetwo most northern settlements of the Mexicans, not far from the GreenMountains where we were ourselves going. What could we do? We couldnot fight the cannibals, who were at least one hundred in number, andyet we could not go away and leave men and women of our own colour to ahorrible death, and a tomb in the stomach of these savages. The ideacould not be borne, so we determined to remain and trust to chance orProvidence. After their abominable meal, the savages scattered aboutthe prairie in every direction, but not breaking up their camp, wherethey left their prisoners, under the charge of twelve of their youngwarriors.
Many plans did we propose for the rescue of the poor prisoners, but theywere all too wild for execution; at last chance favoured us, although wedid not entirely succeed in our enterprise. Three or four deer gallopedacross the prairie, and passed not fifty yards from the camp. A finebuck came in our direction, and two of the Indians who were left incharge started after him. They rushed in among us, and stood motionlesswith astonishment at finding neighbours they had not reckoned upon. We,however, gave them no time to recover from their surprise, our knivesand tomahawks performed quickly and silently the work of death, andlittle remorse did we feel, after the scene we had witnessed in themorning. We would have killed, if possible, the whole band, as theyslept, without any more compunction than we would have destroyed a nestof rattlesnakes.
The deer were followed by a small herd of buffaloes. We had quicklysaddled and secured our horses to some shrubs, in case it should benecessary to run for our lives, when we perceived the ten remainingIndians, having first examined and ascertained that their captives werewell bound, start on foot in chase of the herd of buffaloes; indeedthere was but about twenty horses in the whole band, and they had beenridden away by the others. Three of these Indians we killed withoutattracting the attention of the rest, and Gabriel, without beingdiscerned, gained the deserted encampment, and severed the thongs whichbound the prisoners.
The Mexican women refused to fly; they were afraid of being captured andtortured; they thought they would be spared, and taken to the wigwams ofthe savages, who, we then learned, belonged to the tribe of the Cayugas.They told us that thirteen Indian prisoners had already been eaten, butno white people. The Comanche prisoners armed themselves with thelances, bows, and arrows left in the camp, and in an hour after thepassage of the buffaloes, but two of the twelve Indians were alive;these, giving the war-whoop to recall their party, at last discoveredthat their comrades had been killed.
At that moment the prairie became animated with buffaloes and hunters;the Cayugas on horseback were coming back, driving another herd beforethem. No time was to be lost if we wished to save our scalps; we gaveone of our knives (so necessary an article in the wilderness) to theComanches, who expressed what they felt in glowing terms, and we leftthem to their own cunning and knowledge of the localities, to make theirescape. We had not overrated their abilities, for some few daysafterwards we met them safe and sound in their own wigwams.
We galloped as fast as our horses could go for fifteen miles, along theravine which had impeded our journey during the preceding day, when wefell in with a small creek. There we and our horses drank incrediblequantities of water, and as our position was not yet very safe, we againresumed our march at a brisk trot. We travelled three or four moremiles along the foot of a high ridge, and discovered what seemed to bean Indian trail, lead
ing in a zigzag course up the side of it. This wefollowed, and soon found ourselves on the summit of the ridge. There wewere again gratified at finding spread out before us a perfectly levelprairie, extending as far as the eye could reach, without a tree tobreak the monotony of the scene.
We halted a few minutes to rest our horses, and for some time watchedwhat was passing in the valley we had left, now lying a thousand feetbelow us. All we could perceive at the distance which we were, was thatall was in motion, and we thought that our best plan was to leave asmuch space between us and the Cayugas as possible. We had but littletime to converse with the liberated Comanches, yet we had gained fromthem that we were in the right direction, and were not many days fromour destination.
At the moment we were mounting our horses, all was quiet again in thevalley below. It was a lovely panorama, and, viewing it from the pointwhere we stood, we could hardly believe that, some hours previous, sucha horrible tragedy had been there performed. Softened down by thedistance, there was a tranquillity about it which appeared as if itnever had been broken. The deep brown skirting of bushes, on the sidesof the different water-courses, broke and varied the otherwise vastextent of vivid green. The waters of the river, now reduced to a silverthread, were occasionally brought to view by some turn in the stream,and again lost to sight under the rich foliage on the banks.
We continued our journey, and towards evening we descried a large bearwithin a mile of us, and Roche started in chase. Having gained theother side of the animal, he drove it directly towards me. Cocking apistol, I rode a short distance in front, to meet him, and while in theact of taking deliberate aim at the bear, then not more than eight yardsfrom me, I was surprised to see him turn a summerset and commencekicking with his hind legs. Unseen by me, Gabriel had crept up close onthe opposite side of my horse, and had noosed the animal with his lasso,as I was pulling the trigger of my pistol; Bruin soon disengaged himselffrom the lasso, and made towards Roche, who brought him down with asingle shot below the ear.
Gabriel and I then went on ahead, to select a place for passing thenight, leaving our friend behind to cut up the meat; but we had not gonehalf a mile, when our progress was suddenly checked by a yawning abyss,or chasm, some two hundred yards across, and probably six hundred feetin depth. The banks, at this place, were nearly perpendicular, and fromthe sides projected sharp rocks, and, now and then, tall majesticcedars. We travelled a mile or more along the banks, but perceiving itwas too late to find a passage across, we encamped in a little hollowwider a cluster of cedars. There we were soon joined by Roche, and wewere indebted to Bruin for an excellent repast.
The immense chasm before us ran nearly north and south, and we perceivedthat the current of the stream, or rather torrent, below us, ran towardsthe former point. The next morning, we determined to direct our stepsto the northward, and we had gone but a few miles before large buffaloor Indian trails were seen running in a south-west direction, and as wetravelled on, others were noticed bearing more to the west. Obliged tokeep out some distance from the ravine, to avoid the small gulliesemptying into it and the various elbows which it made, about noon westruck upon a large trail, running directly west; this we followed, andon reaching the main chasm, found that it led to the only place wherethere was any chance of crossing. Here, too, we found that innumerabletrails joined, coming from every direction--proof conclusive that wemust cross here or travel many weary miles out of our way.
Dismounting from our animals, we looked at the yawning abyss before us,and our first impression was, that the passage was impracticable. Thatbuffaloes, mustangs, and, very probably, Indian horses, had crossedhere, was evident enough, for a zigzag path had been worn down the rockyand precipitous sides; but our three horses were unused to sliding downor climbing precipices, and they drew back on being led to the brink ofthe chasm.
After many unsuccessful attempts, I at last persuaded my steed to takethe path; the others followed. In some places they went along the veryverge of rocky edges, where a false step would have precipitated themhundreds of feet down, to instant death; in others, they were compelledto slide down passes nearly perpendicular. Gabriel's horse was muchbruised, but after an hour's severe toil, we gained the bottom, withoutsustaining any serious injury.
Here we remained a couple of hours, to rest our weary animals and findthe trail leading up the opposite side. This we discovered, and, aftergreat exertions, succeeded in clambering up to the top, where we againfound ourselves upon a smooth and level prairie. On looking back, Ishuddered to behold the frightful chasm we had so successfully passed,and thought it a miracle that we had got safely across; but a very shorttime afterwards, I was convinced that the feat we had just accomplishedwas a mere nothing.
After giving our animals another rest, we resumed our journey across thedreary prairie. Not a tree or bush could be seen in any direction. Agreen carpeting of short grass was spread over the vast scene, withnaught else to relieve the sight.
People may talk of the solitude of forests as much as they please, butthere is a company in trees which one misses upon the prairie. It is inthe prairie, with its ocean-like waving of grass, like a vast seawithout landmarks, that the traveller feels a sickly sensation ofloneliness. There he feels as if not in the world, although not out ofit; there he finds no sign or trace to tell him that there are, beyondor behind him, countries where millions of his own kindred are livingand moving. It is in the prairie that man really feels that he is--alone.
We rode briskly along till sun-down, and encamped by the side of a smallwater-hole, formed by a hollow in the prairie. The mustangs, as well asthe deer and antelopes, had left this part of the prairie, driven out,doubtless, by the scarcity of water. Had it not been for occasionalshowers, while travelling through this dreary waste, we should mostinevitably have perished, for even the immense chasms had no water inthem except that temporarily supplied by the rains.