^ma^ ^yrfp^/Z THE DESERT HOME ox TH* ADVENTURES OF A LOST FAMILY IN THE WILDERNESS , ? !' BT 9 * ji CAPTAIN MAYNE REID «aTBua OF '^THE BOY HDNTKRa." " AFLOAT IN THa FOK£ST/' CHICAGO: >\I. A. DoNOHUE & Co. 407-429 Dearborn St. ^^r eculiari- ties of the desert. I shall explain. We knew from the ap- pearance of the mountain that it was one of those where the snow lies forever, and which throughout IMexico are termed " Nevada," or snowy. V/e knew, moreover, that wherever these are met with, streams of water will be found running down their sides, almost at all seasons, but certainly in hot or summer weather, in consequence of the melting of the snow. It was this knowledge, then, that cheered us ; and although the mountain seemed at a great distance, we pushed forward with renewed energy and hope. Our animals, too, as if they also understood the matter, neighed and brayed loudl}", and stepped out with a more springy and elastic tread. The white triangle grew bigger as we advanced. At sun- set we could distinguish the brown seams in the lower part of the mountain ; and the yellow rays dancing upon the snowy crystals of the cone caused it to glitter like a coronet of gold. The sight cheered us on. The sun set, and' the moon took his place in the heavens. Under her pale light we traveled on — the peak of the moun- tain still glistening coldly before us. We traveled all night — and why not ? There was nothing to halt for. We could not have halted, except to die. The morning broke upon us as we dragged wearily along. We could not have ridden less than a hundred miles since we left the Pecos River ; and yet, to our dismay, the moun- tain was still at a good distance before us. As the day 20 THE DESERT HOME. brightened, we could trace the configuration of its base ; and we observed that upon its southern face a deep ravine in- dented the mountain nearly to its top. On its western side — the one nearest us — there was no such feature ; and we con- jectured that the most likely place for water would be in the ravine on the south, where a stream might be formed by the aggregation of the melted snow water. We directed our course towards the point, where the ravine appeared to have its debouchment on the plain. We had calculated rightly : as we approached it, winding round the foot of the mountain, we saw a line of a bright green color, running out into the brown desert. It looked like a low hedge, with here and there tall trees growing up above tho rest. We knew well what it was — '\t was a grove ol willows, with trees of cottonwood interspersed. We knew them to be the sure signs of water, and we hailed their ap- pearance with delight. The men huzzaed hoarsely — the horses neighed — the mules hinnied — and, in a few moments more, men, mules, and horses were kneeling by a crystal runlet, and drinking deeply of its waters. TH£ DESEKl UOM£. gt CHAPTER in. THE VALLEY OASIS. After so long and terrible a journey, of course, we all Stood in need of rest and refreshment. We made up our minds to stay by the stream c.11 night, and perhaps for a day or two. The fringe of willows extended on both sides of it, for a distance of fifty yards into the plain ; and among these, growing under their shade, there were patches of grass — that species known in Mexico as the gramma grass. It is a rich, nutritious herbage ; and horses and cattle — as well as the buffaloes and other wild animals — are very fond of it. Our mules and horses gave proof of this ; for, as soon as they had satisfied themselves with the water, they attacked it with open mouths, and eyes sparkling with delight. We relieved them of their packs and saddles ; and then, having picketed them, left them to eat to their hearts' content. We now set about looking after something for our own suppers. We had not yet suffered much from hunger, as we had occasionally chewed pieces of our dried meat while crossing the plain. But we had eaten it quite raw ; and tasajo — for that is its name — is no great eating, either raw or roasted. We had been living upon it for more than a week, and we longed for something fresh. During- all the route from El Paso we had fallen in with no game, except some half dozen lean antelopes, only one of which we had succeeded in shooting. While we were picketing our animals, and getting ready to cook our suppers of coffee and tasajo, one of the hun- ters — a tireless fellow named Lincoln — had stolen off up the ravine. Presently we heard the sharp crack of his rifte ring- ing through the defile j and, poking up, we saw a iiock of 22 THE DESERT HOME. " bighorns " — so the wiUl slieep of tlic Rocky Mountains are called — leaping from rock to rock, and aJ- jst iiying like birds up the face of the cliffs. It was not long before Lin- coln made his appearance at the mouth of the defile, carry- ing a large body upon his shoulders, which we knew, by the huge crescent-shaped horns, had been a member of the flock we had seen escaping. It proved to be as fat as a buck ; and the knives of the skilful hunters were not long in skin- ning and dissecting it. Meanwhile, a couple of axes had been grappled by stout hands ; a cottonw^ood came crashing down after a few sharp blows; and, having been cut into " logs," was soon crackling under the red blaze. Over this, the ribs and steaks of the bighorn soon sputtered, and the coffee kettle steamed, simmered, and bubbled with its brown and aromatic contents. Our supper over, one and all of us rolled ourselves in our blankets, and were soon forgetful of the perils through which we had passed. Next morning we arose refreshed, and after breakfast a consultation was held as to what course we should now take. We would have followed the stream, but it appeared to run in a southerly direction, and that would not do for us. We wanted to go eastward. While we were deliberating upon this, an exclamation from the hunter Lincoln drew our attention. He was standing in the open ground, at some distance out from the v.dllows, and pointing southward. We all looked in that direction, and, to our great surprise, beheld a pillar of blue smoke curling up into the sky, and seeming to rise out of the plain. " It must be Indians ! " cried one. " I noticed an odd-looking hole in the prairie down there," said Lincoln ; " I noticed it last night when I w^as up after the bighorn. The smoke we see comes out of it ; but there must be a lire where there's smoke, they say ; and there'b somebody about that fire, be they Injuns or whites." " Indians, of course," rejoined several ; " who else would be found within hundreds of miles of such a place as this ? Indians they must be." THE DESERT HOME. 23 A brief consultation was held aniongf us, as to what was l)r.;t to be done. ijOur lire was at once *' choked out," and oLir mules and horses brought into the cover of the willow thicket. Some proposed that a small party of us should go down the stream and reconnoiter ; w hile others advised that we should climb the mountain, from which we might get a view of the strange place whence the smoke seemed to pro- ceed. This was plainly the best course to adopt, as, in case it should fail to satisfy us, we could still follow the other plan. Half a dozen of us therefore, leaving the others to guard the camp, immediately set out to ascend the mountain. We climbed up the ravine, occasionally stopping to look out over the plain. We climbed until we had reached a considerable elevation. At length we caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a deep barranca, into which ran the stream ; but we could distinguish nothing w'ithin it at so great a distance. We could see the plain stretching away beyond, naked and sterile. On one side only, and that to- wards the east, there was a belt of verdure, with here and there a solitary tree, or at most two or three growing together, stunted-like and shrubby. Running in the center of this belt, we could distinguish a line or crack in the plain. This was, no doubt, a channel, by wdiich the stream escaped from the barranca. As nothing further could be gained by remaining upon the mountain, we descended, and joined our companions at the camp. It was now agreed that a select party should follow the stream, until we had approached the edge of this strange valley, and reconnoitered it with caution. Six of us again started, leaving our horses as before. We stole silently along, keeping among the willows and as near as possible to the banks of the rivulet. In this way we traveled about a mile and a half. We saw then that w^e were near to the end of the barranca. We could hear a noise like the sound of a waterfall. We guessed that it must be a cataract formed by the stream, where it leaped into the strange ravine that already began to expand before our faces. We were right in 14 ' THE DESERT HOME. our conjectures, for the next moment we crept out upon the edge of a fearful cliff, where the water of the rivulet swej over, and fell through a height of several hundred feet. It was a beautiful sight to look upon, as the long jet, curvj ing like the tail of a horse, plunged into the foaming pool below ; and then, rising with its millions of globules oi snowy spray, glittered under the sunbeam with all the colors of the rainbow. It was, indeed, a beautiful sight ; but oui eyes did not dwell long upon it, for other objects were b( fore them that filled us with wonder. Away below — far be low where we were — lay a lovely valley, smiling in all the luxuriance of bright vegetation. It was of nearly an ov£ shape, bounded upon all sides by a frowning precipice that rose around it like a wall. Its length could not have been] less than ten miles, and its greatest breadth about half of its length. We were at its upper end, and of course viewec it lengthwise. Along the face of the precipice there werel trees hanging out horizontally, and some of them even grow- ing with their tops downward. These trees were cedars and pines ; and we could perceive also the knotted limbs of huge cacti protruding from .the crevices of the rocks. We could see the wdld mezcal, or maguey plant, growing against ' the cliff — its scarlet leaves contrasting finely with the dark: foliage of the cedars and cacti. Some of these plants stood out on the very brow of the overhanging precipice, and their long curving blades gave a singular character to the land- scape. Along the face of the dark cliffs all was rough, and gloomy, and picturesque. How different was the scene below 1 Here every thing looked soft, and smiling, and beautiful. There were broad stretches of woodland, where the thick foliage of the trees met and clustered together, so that it looked like the surface of the earth itself; but we knew it was only the green leaves, for here and there were spots of brighter green, that we saw w^ere glades covered with grassy turf. The leaves of the trees were of different colors, for it was now late in the autumn. Some were yel- low and some of a deep claret color. Some were bright red, THE DESERT HOME. 2$ and some of a beautiful maroon ; and there were green, and brighter green, and others of a silvery, whitish hue. All these colors were mingled together, and blended into each other, like the flowers upon a rich carpet. Near the center of the valley was a large shining object, which we knew to be water. It was evidently a lake of crys- tal purity, and smooth as a mirror. The sun was now ur 10 meridian height, and his yellow beams falling upon it^ >urface, caused it to gleam like a sheet of gold. We could not trace the outlines of the water, — for the trees partially hid it from our view, — but we saw that the smoke that had at first attracted us rose up somewhere from the western shore of the lake. We returned to the camp, where we had left our com- panions. It was now agreed that we should all ride down the side of the barranca together, until we could find a place to descend into it. It was evident some such place existed, else how could they have got in who had kindled the fire there ? Ws left the Mexicans in camp with our mules, and all the rest oi us, having mounted our horses, rode off together. We went by the eastern side, keeping well back upon the plain, so that we might not be seen until we discovered what sort of people were in the valley. When we had got op- posite to where the smoke was still curling up, Ave stopped ; and two of us, dismounting, crawled forward to the very edge of the precipice. We took care to keep some bushes, that grew along the brink, between ourselves and the lake. At length we were able to get a good view of everything below ; and a very strange sight that was — at least it was very strange in such a place, where it was so little expected. There was a large lake, as I have already stated ; and on its opposite side, not over a hundred yards from its edge, was a fine-looking log house, with other smaller ones stand- ing in the rear. There were rail fences all around them, and a cleared space divided into fields, some of which ap- peared to be under cultivation, while others were green and 26 THE DESERT HOME. filled with flocks of animals. The whole picture was ex- actly like a snug farmhouse, with its stables and other oat- houses, with its garden and fields, and horses and cattle. The distance was too great for us to distinguish what sort of cattle they were ; but there appeared to be many kinds, both red, and black, and speckled. Vs'c could see se\eral rim'.res of men and boys — four of them in all — moving about The enclosures, and there was a woman near the door of the iiDiise. It was impossible in the distance to tell whether tiiey were white people, but we never imagined for a mo- ment they could be Indians. No Indian could have built such a house as that. It seemed to us as though v, e were dreaming, to find such a picture in so unexpected a place ; and it was a beautiful picture to our eyes, coming fresh as we were from looking upon the barren desert. The lake was smooth as a mirror ; the sun was shining upon it ; and we could see upon its farther shore several large animals standing up to their knees in the water. There were many other striking objects which met our eyes, but we had no time to dwell upon them, and we crawled back again to our companions. It was at once agreed that we should go still farther down, and endeavor to find a road leading into this most singular on sis. We thought we could distinguish a sort of depres- sion in the plain near the lower end of the valley, and for this point we directed our course. After riding a few miies farther, we reached the place where the stream issued out in an easterly direction. There, sure enough, was the very road we were in search of, winding down along the bank of the stream, and as if carved out from the face of the prec- ipice. It was not much Vv^ider than the irack of a wagon, ])ut was of very easy descent. We did not hesitate a moment, but commenced riding downward. THE DESERT HOMl* tj ,HAPTER IV. THE STRANGE SETTLEMENT. We were soon in the bottom of the valley, where we fol- 'Aved a plain track that led along the banks of the rivulet. •Ve knew that that would direct us up to the lake, v/here we mould get a view of the house. We were astonished at the ereat variety of trees which we saw in the woods ; but there appeared to be almost as great a variety of beautiful birds, tnat fluttered among the leaves as we rode forward. We came at length within sight of the opening in which the nouse and lake were situated. It was prudent to make anomer i-econnoisance before we advanced farther ; and two ot us, again dismounting, stole cautiously forward through a thicker of leafy shrubs. The house and all its grounds lay betorc us. It W'dS a log house, — such as are met with in the Western States of America, — and well constructed. There was a garden at one end, and fields on all sides. These fields were, as v;e had supposed, some of them under cultivation. We noticed one of them with a crop of Indian corn, and another of wi'ieat. But what most astonished us v/as the kind of animals we saw in the enclosures. One would have thought at first signr, that they were the animals usually seen around an English or American farmhouse — that is to sny, horses, cattle, sheep, goats, hogs, and poultry. You may fancy, then, our surprise, when, on looking narrowly at them, we could not matre out a single animal exactly resembling any one of tfie above, with tiie exception of horses; and even these were unbRe the common kind, for they were smaller, and spotted all over like hounds ! We knew that they were mustangs— ^rXi^ ^dd horses of the desert. 2l THE DESERT HOME. We Manced at the animals we had taken for black cattle. VVlmt were they but buffaloes ! — buffaloes penned :ip in fields, and not heeding the human beings that passed shout- ing among them. More than all, we now saw that two animals yoked to the plow were of the same species — a pair of huge buffalo bulls ; and they were working with all the quietness and regularity of oxen. Another kind of large animals drew our attention, still taller than the buffaloes. We saw several of them standing quietly in the water of the lake, in which their huge bodies and branching horns were shadowed as in a mirror. These we knew to be elk — the great American elk. We saw several kinds of deer, and antelopes with their short, pronged horns, and animals that resembled these last in size, but with im- mense curving horns like those of the ram, and other animals like goats or sheep. We saw^ some without tails, having the appearance of pigs, and others resembling foxes and dogs. We could see fowls of different kinds moving about the doors ; and among others we distinguished the tall, upright form of the wild turkey. The whole picture looked like the collection of some zoological garden or menagerie. Two men were seen — one a tall, white man, with a some- what florid complexion. The other was a short and veiy thick-set negro. The latter was by the plow. There were two younger men, or lads nearly grown. A woman sat by rcoixie exhausted, and nothin.i;, wili remain but inor^^ar.ic or purely mineral sub- stances, which of themselves cannot nourish vegetation, and of course can give no crop. This is the reason why manure is spread upon land, the manure consisting of substances th.it are for the most part organic, and containing the prin- ciples of life and vegetation. Of course, gentlemen, these things are known to you ; but you will pardon my digres- sion, as my children are listening to me, and I never lose an opportunity of instructing them in facts that may hereafter be useful to them. '" Well, as I have said, I had no crops, or rather very bad ones, for the first and second years. On the third it was, if possible, still worse ; and on the fourth and fifth no better than ever. I need liardly add that by this time 1 was ruined, or very nearly so. The expense of feeding and clothing my poor negroes had brought me in debt to a con- siderable amount. I could not have lived longer on my worthless plantation, even had I desired it. I was com- pelled, in order to pay my debts, to sell out everything — farm, cattle, and negroes. No, I did not sell all. There was one honest fellow, to whom both Mary and I had become attached. I was resolved not to sell him into slavery. He had served us faithfully. It was he who first told me how I had been tricked ; and, sympathizing in my misfortune, he endeavored, both by industry on his own part, and by en- couraging his fellow-laborers, to make the ungrateful soil yield me a return. His efforts had been vain, but I deter- mined to repay him for his rude but honest friendship. I gave him his liberty. He would not accept it. He would not part from us. He is there 1 " As tie narrator said this, he pointed to Cud jo, who stood hanging by the door post ; and, delighted at these com- pliments which were being paid him, was showing his white teeth in a broad and affectionate smile. Rolfe cc«itinued : — " When the sale was completed, and the account settled, 40 THE DESERT HOME. I found that I liac /ist five liund'cd jioinuls left. I liad now some experienv e in farming; and I resolved to move out to the west — imD the great Valley of the Missis'appi. I knew that there my five hundred pounds would still set me up again in a farm as big as I wanted, where the timber \vas still growing upon it. " Just at this time my eye fell upon some flaming adver- tisements in the newspapers, about a new city which was then being built at the junction of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. It was called ' Cairo,' and as it was situated on the fork betw^een two of the largest and most navigable rivers in the world, it could not fail in a few years to become one of the largest cities in the world. So said the advertise- ment. There were maps of the new city everywhere, and on these were represented theaters, and banks, and court houses, and churches of different religious denominations. There were lots offered for sale, and, along with these, small tracts of land adjoining the town, so that the inhabitants might combine the occupations of merchant and agriculturist. ' These lots were offered very cheap,' thought I ; and I did not rest, night nor day, until I had purchased one of them, and also a small farm in the adjacent country. " Almost as soon as I had made the purchase, I set out to take possession. Of course, I took with me my wife and children. I had now three — the two eldest being twins, and about nine years old. I did not intend to return to Virginia any more. Our faithful Cudjo accompanied us to our far western home. " It was a severe journey, but not so severe as the trial that awaited us on our arrival at ' Cairo.' As soon as I came within sight of the place, I saw, to use an expressive phrase, that I had been * sold ' again. There was but one house, and that stood upon the only ground that was not a swamp. Nearly the whole site of the proposed city was under water, and the part not wholly inundated consisted of a dark morass, covered with trees and tall reeds ! There were no theaters, no churches, no court house, no banks, THE DESERT HOME. 4I nor any likelihood there ever would be any, except such as plight be built to keep back the water from the only house in the place — a sort of rough hotel, filled with swearing boatman. " I had landed, of course ; and, after putting up at the hotel, proceeded in search of my ' property.' I found my tovvu lot in a marsh, which took me over the ankles in mud. As for my farm, I was compelled to get a boat to visit it ; and after sailing all over it without being able to touch bottom I returned to the hotel, heartless and disgusted. " By the next steamboat that came along, I embarked for St. Louis, where I sold both lot and farm for a mere trifle. " I need not say that I was mortified at all this. I was almost heartbroken when I reflected ort my repeated failures, and thought of my young wife and children. I could have bitterly cursed both America and the Americans, had that been of any use ; and yet such a thing would have been as unjust as immoral. It is true, I had been twice outrageously swindled ; but the same thing had happened to me in my own country, and I had suffered in the same way by those who professed to be my friends. There are bad men in every country — men wilhng to take advantage of generosity and inexperience. It does not follow that all are so, and we hope far less than the half ; for it must be remembered that the bad points of one country are more certain to be heard of in another than its good ones. When I look to the schemes and speculations which have been got up in Eng- land, and which have enriched a few accomplished rogues, by the ruin of thousands of honest men, I cannot, as an Englishman, accuse our American cousins of being greater swindlers than ourselves. It is true, I have been deceived by them ; but it was from the want of proper judgment in myself, arising from a foolish and ill-directed education. I should have been equally ill treated in the purchase oi a horse at Tattersall's, or a pound of tea in Piccadilly had I been equally unacquainted with the value of the articles. We both, as nations, have erred. Neither of us can, with 42 THE DESERT H(3ME. grace, cast a stone at the other, and as for myself, why, look there ! " said Rolfe, smiling, and pointmg to his family, •' two of my children only are Englishmen ; the others are little Yankees. Almost every Englishman can say some- thing similar. Why, then, should we sow jealousy between THE DESERT HUxME, ^^ CHAPTER VIL TBE CARAVAN AND ITS FATE. Our host continued : — " Well, my friends, I was in St. Louis. I had now left out of my three thousand pounds not quite a hundred ; and this would soon melt away, should I remain idle. What was I to do ? " There happened to be a young Scotchman at the hotel where I had put up. He was, like myself, a stranger in St. Louis ; and being from the ' old country,' we soon became ac- quainted, and, very naturally under the circumstances, shared each other's confidence. I told him of my blunders in Vir- ginia and Cairo, and I believe that he really felt sympathy for me. In return, he detailed to me part of his past history, and also his plans for the future. He had been for severai years employed in a copper mine, away near the center of the Great iimerican Desert, in the mountains called Los Mimbres, that lie west of the Del Norte' River. " They are a wonderful people, these same Scotch. They are but a small nation, yet their influence is felt everywhere upon the globe. Go where you will, you will find them in positions of trust and importance ; always prospering, yet, in the midst of prosperity, still remembering, with strong feel ings of attachment, the land of their birth. They manage the marts of London — the commerce of India — the fur trade of America, — and the mines of INIexico. Over all the Ameri- can wilderness you will meet them, side by side with the backwoods pioneer himself, and even pushing him from his own ground. From the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Sea, they have impressed with their Gaelic names rock, river. and* mountain ; and many an Indian tribe owns a Scotch- 44 THE DESERT HOME. man for its chief. I say, again, they are a wonderful people. " Well, my St. Louis Scotchman had come from his mine upon a visit of business to the United States, and was now on his return by St. Louis and Santa Fe. His wife was along with him — a fine-looking young Mexican woman, with only one child. He was waiting for a small caravan of Spanish people, who were about to start for New Mexico. With these he intended to travel, so as to be in safety from the Indians along the route. " As soon as he understood my situation, he advised me to accompany him — offering me a lucrative situation in the mine, of which he was the sole manager. " Disgusted as I then was with the treatment I had re- ceived in the United States, I embraced his proposal with alaf^rity ; and, under his superintendence, I set about mak- ing preparations for the long journey that lay before us. The money I had left enabled me to equip myself in a toler- able manner. I bought a wagon and two pair of stout oxen. This was to carry my wife and children, with such furniture and provisions as would be necessary on the jour- ney. I. had no need to hire a teamster, as our faithful Cudjo was to accompany us ; and I knew there was no better hand to manage a team of oxe« than Cudjo. For myself, I pur- chased a horse, a rifle, with all the paraphernalia that are required by those who cross t\e great prairies. My boys, Harry and Frank, had also a omall rifle each, which we had brought with us from Virginia ; and Harry was very proud of the manner in which he could handle his. " Everything being prepared, we bade adieu to St. Louis, and set forth upon the wild prairies. " Ours was but a small caravan, as the large one which crosses annually to Santa Fe had taken its departure some weeks before. There were about twenty men of us, and less than half that number of wagons. The men were nearly all Mexicans, who had been to the United States to procure ■y^ne pieces of cannon, for which they had been sent by the THE DESERT HOME. 45 governor of Santa Fe. They had the cannon along with them— two brass howitzers, with their carriages and caissons. " My friends, I need not tell you the various incidents that befell us, in crossing the great plains and rivers ^.hat lie be- tween St. Louis and Santa Fe. Upon the plains we fell in with the Pawnees ; and near the crossing of the Arkansas, we encountered a small tribe of Cheyennes ; but nether of these bands offered us any molestation. When we were nearly two months on our journey, the party left the usual trail taken by the traders, and struck across to ore of the head tributaries of the Canadian River. This thty did to avoid meeting the Arapahoes, who were hostile ^o the Mexican people. We kept down the banks of this "stream as far as the Canadian itself ; and then, turning westward, traveled up the latter. We traveled upon the right or southern bank, for we had forded the Canadian on reaching it. " It soon became apparent that we had got into a very rough and difficult country. It was the morning of the sec- ond day, after we had turned westward up the' Canadian River. We were making but slow progress, as the trail we had to follow was intersected at frequent intervals with buffalo roads running into the river from the south. Many of these were deep ditches, although quite r*ry ; and, every now and then, we were compelled to stop the whole train, until we levellc in the banks, and made i road for the wagons to pass. " In crossing one of these rnts, the tongue of my wagon was broken ; and Cudjo and I having loosed out the oxen, set about splicing it the best way we could. The rest of the train was ahead of us, and k^pt moving on. My friend, the young Scotchman, seeing that we had stopped, came gallop- ing back, and offered to remain and assist us. I declined his offer, telling him to move on with the rest, as I would easily overtake them ; ^ t all events, I would get up, when- ever they halted for their night-camp. It was not unfrequent for a single wagon, w'th its attendants, thus to stay behind the r^st tQ >\skp some repairs. When it did not come up /> THE DESERT HOME. io the night encampment, a party v/ould go back early the next morning to ascertain the cause of the delay. P'or several years before the time I am telling you about, there had been no trouble with the Indians in crossing the praii^s ; and consequently the people of the caravans had grown less cau- tious. Besides, we were then in a part of the country where Indians had been seldom seen, as it was an extremely desert place, without grass or game of any description. On this account, and knowing that Cudjo was an excellent carpen • ter, I had no fears but that I could be up with the others be- fore night. So, by my persuasion, the young Scotchman left me, and rode on to look after his own wagons, " After about an hour's hammering and splicing, Cudjo and I got the tongue all right again ; and, ' hitching up ' the oxen, we drove on after our companions. We had not gone a mile, when the shoeing of one of the wheels — that had shrunk from the extreme dryness of the atmosphere — rolled off, and the fellies came very near flying asunder. We were luckily able to prevent this, b}^ suddenly stopping, and set- ting a prop under the body of the wagon. This, as you may perceive, was a much more serious accident than the break- ing of the tongue ; and at first I thought of galloping for- ward, and asking some of our companions to come back to my assistance. But in eonsequence of my inexperience upon the prairies, I knew that I had given them considerable trouble along the route, at which some of them had mur- mured, — being Mexicans, — and in one or two instances had refused to assist me. I might bring bac k the young Scotch- man, it was true, br.t — ' Come 1 ' cried I, ' it is not yet as bad as Cairo. Come, Cudjo ! we shall do it ourselves, and be indebted to no one.' *' ' Dat's right, Massa Roff ! ' replied Cudjo ; ' ebery man put him own shoulder to him own wheel, eke de wheel no run good.' " And so the brave fellow and 1 stripped off our coats, and set to work in earnest. My dear Mary here, who had been brought up a delicate lady, but <"ould suit herself grace- THE DESERT HOME. 47' ''•ally to every situation, helped us all she could, cheering us e\eiy now and then 'with an allusion to Cairo, and our farm under the water. It has always a comforting effect to per- sons in situations of difficulty, to reflect that they might still ).>e worse off; and such reflections will often prop up the drooping spirits, and lead to success in conquering the diffi- culty. ' Never give up ' is a good old motto, and God will help them who show perseverance and energy. " So did it happen with us. By dint of wedging and ham- mering, we succeeded in binding the wheel as fast as ever ; but it was near night before we had finished the job. When we had got it upon the axle again, and were ready for the road, we saw, with some apprehension, that the sun was set- ting. We knew we could not travel by night, not knowing what road to take ; and, as we were close to water, we re- solved to stay where we were until morning. " We were up before day, and having cooked and eaten our breakfast, moved forward upon the track made by the caravan. We wondered that none of our companions had come back during the night — as this is usual in such cases, — but we expected every moment to meet some of them re- turning to look after us. We traveled on, however, until noon, and still none of them appeared. We could see before us a rough tract of country, with rocky hills and some trees growing in the valleys ; and the trail we were following evi- dently led among these. " As we pushed forward, we heard among the hills a loud, crashing report, like the bursting of a bombshell. What rould it mean? We knew there were some shells along with l:ie howitzers. Were our comrades attacked by Indians? <\nd was it one of the cannon they had fired upon them ? No ; that could not be. There was but one report, and I knew that the discharge of a shell from a howitzer must give two— . that which accompanies the discharge, and then the bursting; of the bomb itself. Could one of the shells have burst by accide'.il ? That was more likely; and we halted, and lis- tened Un further sounds. \\'e stopped for nearly half an 48 THE DESERT HOME. hour, but could hear nothing, and we then moved on again. We were filled with apprehension — less from the report we had heard than from the fact that none of the men had come back to see what delayed us. We still followed the track of the wagons. We saw that they must have made a long march on the preceding day, for it was near sunset when we entered among the hills, and as yet we had not reached their camp of the night before. At length we came in sight of it ; and, O horror, what a sight ! My blood runs cold when I recall it to my memory. There were the wagons — most of them with their tilts torn off, and part of their contents scattered over the ground. There were the cannons, too, with fires smoldering near them, but not a human being was in sight. Yes, there were human beings — dead men, lying over the ground ; and living things, — wolves they were, — growling, and quarreling, and tearing the flesh from their bodies. Some of the animals that had belonged to the caravan were also prostrate — dead horses, mules, and oxen. The others were not to be seen. " We were all horror-struck at the sight. We saw at once that our companions had been attacked and slaughtered by some band of savage Indians. We would have retreated, but it was now too late, for we were close in to the camp before we had seen it. Had the savages still been upon the ground, retreat would be of no avail. But I knew that they must have been gone some time, from the havoc the wolves had made in their absence. " I left my wife by our wagon, where Harry and Frank remained with their little rifles ready to guard her, and along with Cud jo I went forward to view the bloody scene. We chased the wolves from their repast. There was a pack of more than fifty of these hideous animals, and they only ran a short distance from us. On reaching the ground, we saw that the bodies were those of our late comrades, but they were all so mutilated that we could not distinguish a single one of them. They had every one been scalped by the Indians ; and it was fearful to look upon them as they lay. THE DESERT HOME. 49 1 saw the fragments of one of the shells that had burst in I'^.c middle of the camp, and had torn two or three of the wagons to pieces. There had not been many articles of m*erchandise in the wagons, as it was not a traders' caravan ; but such things as they carried, that could be of any value to the Indians, had been taken away. The other articles, most of ithem heavy and cumbersome things, were lying over the ground, some of them broken. It was evident that the savages had gone off in a hurry. Perhaps they had been frightened by the bursting of the shell, not knowing what it was, and from its terrible effects, — which they no doubt witnessed and felt, — believing it to be the doing of the Great Spirit. " I looked on all sides for my friend, the young Scotch- man, but I could not distinguish his body from the rest. I looked around, too, for his wife — who was the only woman besides Mary that accompanied the caravan. Her body was not to be seen. ' No doubt,' said I to Cudjo, * the savages have carried her off alive.' At this moment, we heard the howls and hoarse worrying of dogs, with the fiercer snarling of wolves, as though the dogs were battling with these ani- mals. The noises came from a thicket near the camp. We knew that the miner had brought with him two large dogs from St. Louis. It must be they. We ran in the direction of the thicket, and dashed in among the bushes. Guided by the noises, we kept on, and soon came in sight of the objects that had attracted us. Two large dogs, foaming, and torn, and covered with blood, were battling againet several wolves, and keeping them off from some dark object that lay among the leaves. We saw that the dark object was a woman, and, clinging around her neck, and screaming with terror, was a beautiful child ! At a glance, we saw that the woman was dead, and — " Here the narrative of our host was suddenly interrupted. M'Knight, the miner, who was one of our party, and who had appeared laboring under some excitement during the whole of the recital, suddenly sprang to his feet, exclaiming, — 4 go THE DESERT HOME. " O God ! my wife — my poor wife 1 O, Rolfe ! Roite? do you not know me ? " " M'Knight ' " tried Kolfe, springing up with an air of astonishment — '' M'Knight ! it is he indeed ! " " My wife ! my poor wife ! " continued the miner, in ac cents of sorrow, " I knew they had killed her. I saw hei remains afterwards ; but my child ? O, Rolfe ! what of m) child ? " " She is there I^'' said our host, pomting to the darkest oi the two girls, and the next moment the miner had lifted tht little Luisa in his arms, and was covering her with his kissesi He was her father I XU£ DLbEKi lIOMS« gt CHAPTER VIII. THE miner's story. It would be very difficult, my young readers, to describe to you the scene which followed this unexpected recognition. The family had all risen to their feet, and with cries and tears in their eyes clung around the little Luisa, as though they were about to lose her forever. And, indeed, it is likely that an indistinct thought of this kind had tiitted across their minds, when they saw that she was no longer their sister — for they had almost forgotten that she was not so, and they loved her as well as if she was. Up to this time, none of them had thought of her in any other way than as a sister ; and Harry, with whom she was a great favorite, used to call her his " dark sister ; " while the younger, Mary, was known as the " fair " one. In the midst of the group stood the little brunette, like the rest overwhelmed with singular emotions, but calmer, and ap- parently more mistress of her feelings than any of them. The traders and hunters were all upon their teet congrat- ulating M'Knight on the happy event; while each of them shook hands with our host and his wife, whom they now remembered having heard of, as well as the story of the massacre. Old Cudjo leaped over the floor, whipping the panthers and wolf dogs, and cutting various capers, while the I'ery animals themselves howled with a sort of fierce joy. Our host went into an inner apartment of the cabin, and presently returned with a large jar of brown earthenware. Cups cut out of the calabash were set upon the table ; and into these a red liquid was poured from the jar, and we were all invited to drink. What was our surprise, on tasting the Ipeverage, to find that it was wine — wine in the middle of the 52 THE DESERT HOME: desert 1 But it was so — excellent wine — home made, as our host informed us — pressed from the wild muscadine grapes that grew in plenty through the valley. As soon as we had all passed the cups of wine, and had got fairly seated again, M'Knight, at the request of Rolfe, took up the thread of the story, in order to detail how he had escaped from the Indians on that fearful night. His story ^'as a short one, and ran as follows • — " After I left you," said he, addressing Rolfe, " where you had broken your wagon, I rode on, and overtook the caravan. The road, as you may remember, became smooth and level ; and as there appeared to be no good camping ground nearer than the hills we kept on for them without stopping. It was near sundown when we reached the little stream where you saw the wagons. There, of course, we halted, and formed our camp. I did not expect you to come in for an hour or so later, as I calculated that it would take you about that length of time to mend the tongue. We kindled fires, and, having cooked our suppers and eaten them, were sitting around the logs, chatting smoking, and some of the Mexicans, as is their custom, playing at moJite. We had put out no guard, as we had no expectation that there were Indians in that quarter. Some of the men said they had traveled the trail before, and had never met an Indian within fifty miles of the place. At length it became dark, and I began to grow uneasy about you, fearing you might not be able to make out our trail in the night. Leav- ing my wife and child by one of the fires, I climbed a hill that looked in the direction you should have come ; but I could see nothing for the darkness. I stood for some time listening, thinking I might hear the rattle of your wheels, or some one of you talking. All at once a yell broke upon my ears, that caused me to turn towards the camp with a feeling of consternation. I well knew the meaning of that yell. I knew it was the war-cry of the Arapahoes. I saw savage figures dashing about in the red glare of the fires. I beard shots and shouts, and screams and groans ; andj THb DESERi ^iOMt. 53 tmong the rest, I recognized the voice of my wife calhng me by name. " 1 did not hesitate a moment, but ran down the hill, and flung myself int« the thick of the fight, which was now rag- ing fiercely. I had nothing in my hands but a large knife, with which I struck on all sides, prostrating several of the savages. Here I fought for a moment, and there I ran, call- ing for my wife. I passed through among the wagons, and on all sides of the camp, crying, * Luisa ! ' There was no answer ; she was nowhere to be seen. Again I was face to face with painted savages, and battling with desperation. Most of my comrades were soon killed, and I was forced out among the bushes, and into the darkness, by one of the Indians, who pressed upon me with his spear. I felt the weapon pass through my thigh, and I fell, empaled upon the shaft. The Indian fell upon top of me ; but, before he could struggle up again, I had thrust him with my knife, and he lay senseless. " I rose to my feet, and succeeded in drawing out the spear. I saw that the struggle had ceased around the fires : and be- lieving that my comrades, as well as my wife and child, were all dead I turned my back upon the fires, and stole off into the thicket determined to get as far as possible from the camp. I had not gone more than three hundred yards when t fell, exhausted with the loss of blood and the pain of my wound. I had fallen near some rocks at the bottom of a' precipice, where I saw there was a small crevice or cave. I had still strength enough left to enable me to reach this cave and crawl into it ; but I fainted as soon as the effort was over. " I must have lain insensible for many hours. When I came to consciousness again, I saw that daylight was shining into the cave. I felt that I was very weak, and could scarce move myself. My wound stared me in the face, still un- dressed, but the blood had ceased flowing of its own accord. I tore up my shirt, and dressed it as well as I was able ; and then, getting nearer to the mouth of the cave, I lay and 54 THE DESERT HOME. listened. I could hear the voices oi the Indian?;, though ver\ indistinctly, in the direction of the camp. This continued for an hour or more ; and then the rocks rang with a terrible explosion, whith 1 knew to be the bursting of a shell. After that, I could hear loud shouts, and, soon after, the hurried trampling of many horses ; and then all was silence. I thought, at the time, that the Indians had taken their de- parture ; but I knew not what had caused them to go off in such a hurry. I found out afterwards. Your conjecture was right. They had thrown one of the bombs into the fire, and the fuse catching, had caused it to explode, killing several of their number. As they believed it to be the hand of the Great Spirit, they had hastily gathered up such plunder as was most desirable to them, and ridden away from the spot. I did not know this at the time, and I lay still in my cave. For several hours all was silence ; but, as night drew near, I fancied I again heard noises about the camp, and I thought the Indians might not yet be gone. *' When darkness came, I would have crawled towards the camp, but I could not ; and I lay all night in' the cave, chaf- ing with the pain of my wound, and listening to the howling of the wolves. That was a terrible night. " Morning dawned again, and I could hear no sounds. I was now suffering dreadfully, both from hunger and thirst. I saw a well-known tree growing in front of the cave. I knew it, because the same tree is found upon the mountains of the Mimbres, near our mine. It was a species of pine, called by the Mexicans ' piiion,' whose cones afford food to thousands of the miserable savages who roam over the great western desert, from the Rocky Mountains to California. If I could only reach this tree, I might find some of its nuts upon the ground ; and, with this hope, I dragged myself painfully out of the cave. It was not twenty paces from the rocks where the tree grew ; yet, with my weakness and the pain of my wound, I was nearly half an hour in reaching it. To my joy, I found the ground under it covered with cones. I was not long in stripping off the rinds of many of THE DKSI'.K I II()!\1L. ^5 them, and getting the serrls, which T ate greedily, until T iind satislied my hunger. " But another appetite far more terrible was craving me — I was tortured with thirst. Could I crawl as far as the camp ? I knew that there I should find water in the stream ; and, from the position of the cave, I knew I could not find it nearer. I must either reach it or die ; and, with this thought to spur m2 on, I commenced the short journey of three hundred yards, although I was not certain I might live to see the end of it. I had not crawled six paces through the underwood, when a bunch of small, white flowers attracted my attention. They were the flowers of the sorrel tree, — the beautiful lyonia, — the very sight of which sent a thrill of gladness through my heart. I was soon under the tree, and, clutching one of its lowermost branches, I stripped it of its smooth, serrated leaves, and eagerly chewed them. Another and another branch were successively divested of their foliage, until the little tree looked as if a flock of goats had been breakfasting upon it. I lay for nearly an hour masticating the soft leaves, and swallowing their delicious and acid juice. At length my thirst was alleviated, and I fell asleep under the cool shadow of the lyonia. " When I awoke again, I felt much stronger, and with new appetite to eat. The fever which had begun to threaten me was much allayed ; and I knew this was to be attributed to the virtue of the leaves I had eaten — for, besides giving relief to thirst, the sap of the sorrel tree is a most potent febrifuge. Gathering a fresh quantity of the leaves, and tying them together, I again set out for the pinon tree. I took the leaves with me, so that I should rot have to make the return trip to the sorrel that night again. In a few minutes I had reached the end of my journey, and was busy among the cones. You laugh at my calling it a journey ; but I assure you it was a most painful one to me, although it was not ten paces from one tree to the other. The slight- est motion agonized me. That night I passed under the pinon, and in the morning, 56 THE DESERi .lOMfi. having made my breakfast of the seeds, I collected my pockets full, and set out again for the sorrel tree. Here I spent the day ; and with a fresh cargo of leaves, returnee' at night to the pif>on, where I again slept. " Thus, for four successive days and nights, I passed be- tween these two brave trees, living upon the sustenance they afforded. The fever was luckily warded off by the leaves of the friendly lyonia. My wound began to heal, and the pain left it. The wolves came at intervals ; but, seeing my long knife and that I still lived, they kept at a wary distance. " Although the leaves of the sorrel assuaged my thirst, they did not satisfy it. I longed for a good draught of water ; and, on the fourth day, I set out for the stream. I was now able to creep upon my hands and one knee, dragging the wounded limb after. When I had got about half way through the underwood, I came upon an object that almost congealed the blood in my veins. It was a human skeleton. I knew it was not that of a man ; I knew it was — " Here the voice of the miner became choked with sobs, and he was unable to finish the sentence. Nearly all in the room — even the rude hunters — wept as they beheld his emotion. After an effort, he continued : — " I saw that she had been buried ; and I wondered at this, for I knew the Indians had not done it. I was never certain until this hour who had performed for her that sacred lite. I thought, however, it must have been you ; for, after I had recovered, I went back upon the trail, and, not finding your wagon anywhere, I knew you must have come on to the camp, and gone away again. I looked in every direction to find which way you had gone ; but, as you wall remember, there was a heavy fall of rain shortly after, and that had obliterated every track. All this happened after I was able to get upon my feet, which was not for a month after the night of the massacre. But let me go back in my narrative to where I had found the remains of my poor wife. " The wolves had torn the body from its grave. I looked for some vestige of my child. With my hands I dug down THE DESERT HOMEi. 57 into the loose mold and leaves, which you had thrown over her body ; but no infant was there. I Ci'awled on to the camp. I found that just as you have described it, except that the bodies were now bleaching skeletons, and the wolves had taken their departure. I searched around, on all sides, thinking I might find some traces of my little Luisa but in vain. 'The Indians have either carried the child away,' thought I, ' or the fierce wolves have devoured it altogether.' " In one of the wagons I found an old mess chest lying hid under some rubbish. It had escaped the hurried plunder of the savages. On opening it, I saw that it con- tained, among other things, some coffee, and several pounds of jerked meat. This was a fortunate event, for the meat and coffee nourished me, until I was able to gather a suffi- cient quantity of the pifions. " In this way I spent a whole month, sleeping in one of the wagons at night, and crawling off to collect pifions during the day. I had but little fear that the Indians would return ; for I knew that that part of the country was not inhabited by any tribe, and we must have fallen in with a party of the Arapahoes, wandering out of their usual range. As soon as I grew strong enough, I dug a grave, where I interred the remains of my poor wife ; and now I began to think of tak- ing my leave of that melancholy scene. " I knew that I was not much moVe than a hundred miles distant from the eastern settlements of New Mexico ; but a hundred miles of uninhabited wilderness, and on foot, was \ barrier that seemed almost as impassable as the ocean itselL I was determined, however, to make the attempt ; and I set about sewing a bag in which I should carry my roasted pifions — the onb' Drovision I could get to sustain me through the journey. " While engaged in this operation, with my eyes fixed upon the work, I heard footsteps near me. I raised my head suddenly, and in alarm. What was my joy when I saw that the object which had startled me was neither more nor less than a mule, that was slowly coming towards the 58 THE biiSERT HOME. camp ! I recognized it as one of the mules that had be- longed to our caravan. " The animal had not yet observed mc; and I thought it might shy away if I showed myself too suddenly. I resolved, therefore, to capture it by stratagem. I crept into the wagon, where I knew there was a lasso ; and having got hold of this, I placed myself in ambush, where I saw the mule would most likely pass. I had scarcely got the noose ready when, to my extreme satisfaction, the mule came directly to where I lay expecting it. The next moment its neck was hrmly grasped in the loop of the lasso, and the animal itself stO(;d tied to the tongue of one of the wagons. It was one of our mules that had escaped from the Indians, and after wander- ing over the country for weeks had nov/ found the track, and would, no doubt, had I not caught it, have found its way back to St. Louis ; for this is by no means an unfrequent occurrence with animals that stray off from the caravans. It soon became tame with me, and in a few days more I had manufactured a bridle and saddle ; and, mounting with my bag of roasted pinons, I rode off on the trail for Santa Fe'. In about a week I reached that place in safety, and continued on southward to the mine. "My history since that time can have but little interest for any of you. It is that of a man sorrowing for the loss of all he loved on earth. But you, Rolfe — you have given me new life in restoring to me my child, my Luisa ; and eveiy chapter of your history, woven as it is with hers, will be to mc, at least, of the deepest interest. Go on, then — go on ! " With this the miner concluded ; and our host, after invit- ing each of us to refill our cups with wine, and our pipes with tobacco, resumed his narrative where he had left it off, in consequence of the happy but unexpected episode to ■which it had led. tUi D£S£RT HOME, t^g CHAPTER IX. LOST IN THE DESERT. " Well, my friends," proceeded our host, " it was a terrible sight to look upon — those fierce, gaunt wolves — the mad and foaming mastiffs — the dead mother, and the terrified and screaming child. Of course, the wolves fled at the ap- proach of myself and Cudjo, and the dogs whimpered with delight. Well they might, poor brutes ; for had we not come to their aid, they could not have held out much longer against such fearful odds. Although the battle had not been a long one, and commenced most likely after we had driven the wolves from the camp, yet the poor mastiffs were torn and bleeding in many places. As I stooped down to take up the little Luisa, she still clung close around the neck of her mother, crying for her ' mamma ' to awake. I saw that her mamma would never awake again. She was lifeless and cold. There was an arrow in her breast. It was plain, that, after receiving this wound, she had fled into the thicket — no doubt followed by the faithful dogs, — and favored by the darkness, had kept on, until she had fallen and died. The position of her arms showed that she had breathed her last clasping her child to her bosom. "Leaving Cudjo to guard the body, I carried the child back to my own wagon. Although so lately terrified with the battle of the wolves and dogs, the little creature cried at being separated from its mother, and struggled in my arms to be taken back." Here Rolfe's narrative was again interrupted by the sobs of M'Knight, who — although a firm, lion-hearted man — could not restrain himself on listening to these painfull}-- afTecting details. The children of Rolfe, too, repeatedly 6o TUli DESKRT HOME. wept aloud. The " dark sister '' herself seemed least affected of all. Perhaps that terrible scene, occurring at such an early period of her life, had impressed her character witif the firmness and composure which afterwards marked it. Every now and then she bent towards the " fair one," throw- ing her arms around the neck of the latter, and endeavoring to restrain her tears. " I gave the child to my wife," continued Rolfe, after a pause, " and in the company of little Mary, then about her own age, she soon ceased crying, and fell asleep in my wife's bosom I took a spade which I had in my wagon, and go- ing back, I dug a grave, and, with the help of Cudjo, hastily interred the body. I say hastily, for we did not know the moment we might stand m need of some one to do as much for ourselves. It seems that our labor was in vain ; yet even at the time, had we known this was to be the case, we should not the less have acted as w^e did. There was some satisfaction in performing this last sacred and Christian ceremony for our murdered friend ; and both Cudjo and I felt it to be nothing more than our duty. " We did not remain any longer near the spot, but, hasten- ing back to our wagon, I led the oxen in among some trees, where they might be hidden from view. Commending my wife and little ones to God, I shouldered my rifle, and set out, for the purpose of discovering whether the savages had left the place, and in what direction they had gone. It was my intention, should I be able to satisfy myself about the road they had taken, to go by some other course, yet by one that would bring me back into the trail, so that I could go on to the country of New Mexico. I knew very well that at that late season, and with oxen worn out, as ours were, I could never get back to St. Louis — which was nearly eight hundred miles distant. " After proceeding a mile or two, — creeping through bushes, and skulking behind rocks, — I saw the trail of the Indians striking out into an open plain, in a due westerly direction. They must have formed a large band, and all THE DESERT HOME. 6 1 mounted, as the tracks of their horses testified. Seeing that they had moved off westward, I formed the resolution of mak- ing two or three days' journey to the south, and, afterwards turning in a westerly direction. This would most likely se- cure me from meeting them again, and would bring : _., as I guessed, to the eastern ranges of the Rocky Mountains, through which I might pass into the valley of New Mexico. I had heard my companions speak of a more southern pass through these mountains than that which lies near Santa Fe ; and I hoped to be able to reach it, although I believed it to be two hundred miles distant. With these plans in my mind, I returned to where I had left my little party. ' It was night when I got back to the wagon, and I found Mary and the children in great distress at my delay ; but I had brought them good news — that the Indians were gone away. " I had thought of remaining all night where we were ; but not being yet fully satisfied that the Indians were gone, I changed my intention. Seeing that we were to have a moon, and that a smooth plain stretched away towards the south, I concluded that it would be better to make a night journey of it, and put twenty miles, if possible, between us and the camp. All agreed with this proposal. In fact we were all equally anxious to get away from that fearful spot ; and had we stayed by it, not one of us could have slept a wink. The apprehension that the savages might return, and the excited state of our feelings, — to say nothing of the ter- rible howli-ng of the wolves, — would have kept us awake ; so, resolving to take our departure, we waited for the rising of the moon. '• We did not waste time, my friends. You all know that water is the great want in these deserts, both for man and beast. We knew not where or when we might next find it ; so we took the precaution to fill our vessels at the stream. We filled all we had that would hold water. Alas ! these were not enough, as you shall hear. ll^The moon rose at length. She seemed to smile upon 62 THE DESKRr flO:Mft. the horrid picture that lay below at the deserted camp ; but we stayed no longer to contemplate it. Leading our oxen out of their cache, we struck out into the open plain in a direc- tion as nearly south as I could guide myself. I looked northward for the star in the tail of the Little Bear, — the polar star, — which I soon found by the pointers of the Ursa Major ; and keeping this directly on our backs, we pro- ceeded on. Whenever the inequalities of the ground forced us out of our track, I would again turn to this little star, and consult its unfailing index. There it twinkled in the blue heavens, like the eye of a friend. It was the finger of God pointing us onward. " And onward we went — here creeping around some gap- ing fissure, that opened across our track — there wading over a sandy swell — and anon rolling briskly along the smooth, hei bless plain; for the country we were passing through was a parched and treeless desert. " We made a good night's journey of it, cheered by the prospect of escaping from the savages. When day broke, we were twenty miles from the camp. The rough hills that surrounded it were completely lost to our view, and we knew from this that we had traveled a long way ; for some of these hills were of great height. We knew that we must have passed over a considerable arc of the earth's surface be- fore their tops could have sunk below the horizon. Of course some intervening ridges, such as the sandy swells I have mentioned, helped to hide them from our view ; but, at all events, we had the satisfaction of knowing that the savages, even had they returned to the camp, could not now see us from that point. We only feared the chances of their dis- covering our tracks and following us. Urged by this ap- prehension, we did not halt when the day broke, but kept on until near noontide. Then we drew up ; for our oxen, as well as the horse, were completely tired down, and could go no farther without rest. "It v.-.^s but a poor rest for them, with neither grass nor water; not a blade of anything green except \\\it arttmisia THE DESERT HOME. 63 plant, the wild wormwood which of course, neither horse nor oxen would touch. This grew all around us in low thickets. Its gnarled and twisted bushes, with their white, silvery leaves, so far from gladdening the eye, only, served to render the scene more dreary and desolate ; for we knew that this plant denoted the extreme barrenness of the soil. We knew that, wherever it grew, the desert was around it. " It was, indeed, but a poor rest for our animals ; for the hot sun glanced down upon them during the noon hours, making them still more thirsty. We could not afford them a drop of the precious water ; for we ourselves were oppressed with extreme thirst, and our stock was hourly diminishing. It was as much as we could do to spare a small quantity to the dogs, Castor and Pollux. " Long before night, we once more yoked to the oxen, and continued our journey, in the hope of reaching some stream or spring. By sunset, we had made ten miles farther to the south, but no landmark as yet appeared in sight — nothing to indicate the presence of water. We could see nothing around us but the sterile plain, stretching on all sides to the horizon ; not even a bush, or rock, or the form of a wild animal, relieved the monotonous expanse. We were as m'jch alone as if we had been in an open boat, in the middle of the ocean. We began to grow alarmed, and to hesitate. Should we go back ? No ; that would never do. Even had the pros- pect at the end of a backward journey been more cheering, we felt uncertain whether we might be able to reach the stream we had just left. We should surely reach water as soon by keeping forward ; and with this thought we traveled on through all the livelong night. " When morning came, I again surveyed the horizon, but could see no object along its level line. I was riding gloomily alongside the poor oxen, watching their laborious efforts, when a voice sounded in my ears. It was that of Frank, who was standing in the fore part of the wagon, looking out; from under the tilt. 64 THE DESERT HOME. " ' Papa ! Papa ! ' cried he, ' look at the pretty white cloud I ' " I looked up at the boy, to see what he meant. I saw that he was pointing to the southeast, and I turned my eyes m that direction. I uttered an exclamation of joy, which startled my companions ; for I saw that what Frank had taken for a white cloud was the snowy cap of a mountain. 1 might have seen it before, had my eyes been searching in that quarter; but they were not, as I was examining the sky towards the south and west. " Guided by no very extraordinary experience, I knew that where there was snow there must be water ; and, without another word, I directed Cudjo to head his oxen for the mountain. It was out of the way we wanted to go ; but we thought not of that, for the saving of our lives had now grown to be the only question with us. " The mountain was still twenty miles distant. We could have seen it much farther off, but we had been traveling through the night. The question was, Would our oxen be able to reach it ? They were already tottering in their tracks. If they should break down, could we reach it ? Our water was all gone, and we were suffering from thirst as the sun rose. * A river,' thought I, ' must run from the mountain, fed by the melting of its snows. Perhaps we might come to this river before arriving at the mountain foot.' But no; the plain evidently sloped down from us to the mountain. Whatever stream ran from it must go the other way. We should find no water before reaching the mountain — perhaps not then ; and, tortured with these doubts, we pushed gloomily forward. " By noon, the oxen began to give out. One of them fell dead, and we left him. The other three could not go much farther. Every article that was of no present use was thrown from the wagon to lighten it, and left lying on the plain ; but still the poor brutes were scarce able to drag it along. We went at a snail's pace. ** A short rest might recruit the animals; but I could not bring myself to halt again, as my heart was agonized by the iHE DESERT HUME. 6$ rries of my suffering children. Mary bore up nobly ; so, too, did the boys. F'or myself, I could not offer a word of consolation, for I knew that we were still ten miles from the foot of the mountain. I thought of the possibility of riding on ahead, and bringing back some water in the vessels ; but I saw that rny horse could never stand it. He was even now unable to carry me, and I was afoot, leading him. Cudjo, also, walked by the side of the oxen. Another of these now gave up, and only two remained to drag the vehicle. " At this terrible moment, several objects appeared before us on the plain, that caused me to cry out with delight. They were dark-green masses, of different sizes — the largest of them about the size of a beecap. They looked like a number of huge hedgehogs rolled up, and presenting on all sides their thorny spikes. On seeing them, I dropped my horse ; and, drawing my knife, ran eagerly forward. My companions thought I had gone mad, not understanding why I should have drawn my knife on such harmless-looking ob- jects, and not knowing what they were. But I knew well what they were ; I knew they were the globe cacti. " In a moment's time, I had peeled the spikelets from sev- eral of them ; and as the wondering party came up, and saw the dark-green, succulent vegetables, with the crystal water oozing out of their pores, they were satisfiect that I had not gone mad. " In a short while, we had cut the huge spheroids into slices, which we chewed with avidity. We set some of them also before the horse and oxen, both of which devoured them greedily, sap, fibers, and all ; while the dogs lapped the cold liquid wherever they were cut. " It is true, that this did not quench thirst in the same • way that a drink of water would have done ; but it greatly relieved us, and would, perhaps, enable us to reach the mountain. We resolved to halt for a short while, in order to rest the oxen. Unfortunately, the relief had come too late for one of them. It had been his last stretch ; and when we were about to start again, we found that he had lain down, 5 66 THE DESERT HOME. and was unable to rise. We saw that we must leave him ; and, taking such harness as we could find, we put the horse in his place, and moved onward. We were in hopes of find- ing another little garden of cactus plants ; but none appeared, and we toiled on, suffering as before. " When we had got within about five miles of the mountain foot, the other ox broke down, and fell — as we supposed — dead. We could take the wagon no farther; but it was no time either to hesitate or halt, we must try it afoot, or perish where we were. " I loosed out the horse, and left him to his will. I saw he was no longer able to carry any of us. I took an ax from the wagon, also a tin pot, and a piece of dry beef that still remained to us. Cudjo shouldered the ax and little Mary ; I carried the beef, the pot, Luisa, and my rifle ; while my wife, Frank, and Harry, each held something in their hands. Thus burdened, we bade adieu to the wagon, and struck off towards the mountain. The dogs follo^\ ed ; and the poor horse, not willing to be left behind, came tottering after. " There is not much more of that journey to be detailed. We toiled through those five miles the best way we could. As we drew nearer to the mountain, we could see deep, dark ravines running down its sides, and in the bottom of one we distinguished a silvery thread, which we knew was the foam of water as it dashed over the rocks. The sight gave us new energy, and in another hour we had reached the banks of a crystal stream, and were offering thanks for our deliverance." 1HK DEbERT HOME. 67 CHAPTER X. ADVENTURE WITH AN ARMADILLO. " Well, my friends, we had arrived on the banks of a rivulet, and were thanking God for bringing us safely there. We soon satisfied our thirst, as you may believe, and began to lock around us. The stream we had reached was not t'aat which runs into the valley here, but altogether on the ether side of the mountain. It was but a mere rill, and I saw that several similar ones issued from the ravines, and, after running a short distance into the plain, fell off towards the southeast, and united with others running from that side. 1 found afterwards that they all joined into the same channel, forming a considerable river, Mdiich runs from this elevated plain in an easterly direction ; and which I take to be a head water of the great Red River of Louisiana, or, perhaps, of the Brazos, or Colorado, of Texas. I have called it a con- siderable river. That is not quite correct; for, although, Avhere they all unite, they form a good-sized body of water, yet twenty miles farther down, for three-fourths of the year, the channel is perfectly dry ; and that is the case I know not how far beyond. The water, which passes from the mountain at all times, is either evaporated by the hot sun, or sinks into the sands of its own bed, during a run of twenty miles. It is only in times of great rain, — a rare occurrence here, — or when very hot weather melts an unusual quantity of the snow, that there is water enough to carry the stream over a flat, sandy tract, which stretches away to the eastward^ /Ml these things I found out afterwards, and as you, my ("licnds, know them to be common phenomena of the desert^j 1 shall not now dwell upon them. *' I saw that, where we; \vere, there was but littla chance q{ 68 THE DESERT HOME. getting anything to eat. The sides of the mountain were rugged and grim, with here and there a stunted cedar hang- ing from the rocks. The small patches of grass and willows that lined the banks of the little rills, although cheering to Che eye, when compared with the brown barrenness of the desert, offered but little prospect that we should gtt anything to eat there. If the desert stretched away to the south of the mountain, as we saw that it did to the north, east, and west, then we had only reached a temporary resting-place, and we might still perish, if not from thirst, from what was equally as bad — hunger. " This was uppermost in our thoughts at the time, for we had not eaten a morsel during that day ; so we turned our attention to the piece of dried meat. " * Let us cook it, and make a soup,' said Mary ; ' that will be better for the children.' My poor wife ! I saw that the extreme fatigue she had undergone had exhausted her strength, yet still she endeavored to be cheerful. " ' Yes, papa, let us make soup ; soup is very nice,' added Frank, trying to cheer his mother by showing that he was not dismayed. " ' Very well, then,' I replied. ' Come, Cudjo, shoulder your ax, and let us to the mountain for wood. Yonder are some pine trees near the foot ; they will make an excellent fire.' " So Cudjo and I started for the wood, which was growing about three hundred yards distant, and close in to the rocks whe^e the stream came down. "As we drew nearer to the trees, I saw that they were not pine trees, but very different indeed. Both trunks and branches had long, thorny spikes upon them, like porcu^ pines' quills, and the leaves were of a bright shining green, pinnate with small oval leaflets. But what was most singular was the long bean-shaped pods that hung down thickly from the branches. These were about an inch and a half in breadth, and some of them not less than twelve inches in length. They were of a reddish-brown, nearly a claret :olor. THE DESERT HOME. 69 Except in the color, they looked exactly like large bean pods filled with beans. " I was not ignorant of what species of tree was before us. I had seen it before. I knew it was the honey locust, or thorny acacia — the carob tree of the East, and the famed ' algarobo ' of the Spaniards. I was not ignorant of its uses, neither, for I knew this to be the tree upon which (as many suppose) St. John the Baptist sustained himself in the desert, where it is said, ' His meat was locusts and wild honey.' Hence it is sometimes called * St. John's bread.' Neither was Cudjo ignorant of its uses. The moment his eyes rested upon the long, brown legumes, he cried out, with gestures of delight, — " ' Massa — Massa Roff, lookee yonder ! Beans and honey for supper ! ' " We were soon under the branches ; and while 1 pro- ceeded to knock down and collect a quantity of the ripe fruit, Cudjo went farther up among the rocks, to procure his fire- wood from the pines that grew there. " I soon filled my handkerchief, and was waiting for Cudjo, when I heard him shout, — " ' Massa Roff 1 come dis w^ay, and see de varmint — what him be.' " I immediately ran up among the rocks. On reaching the spot where Cudjo was, I found him bending ©ver a crev- ice or hole in the ground, from which protruded an object — very much like the tail of a pig. " ' What is it, Cudjo ? ' I asked. ■ " ' Don't know, Massa. Varmint I never seed in Vaginny looks someting like de ole 'possum.' " ' Catch hold of tlie tail, and pull him out,' said I- " ' Lor 1 Massa Ro^, I've tried ma best, but can't fotch *im no how. Look yar 1 ' And so saying, my companion seized the tail, and pulled, — seemingly with all his might, — but to no purpose. " ' Did you see the animal when it was outside ? ' I in- quired. 70 THE DESKRI' HOME. "'Yes, Massa ; sec 'iin and cliase 'iin till 1 tree him yar in dis cave ' " ' What was it like ? ' *' * Berry like a pig ; maybe more belike ole 'fjossum, but cubbered all ober wi' shell ^ like a Vaginny turtle.' " ' Oh, then, it is an armadillo.' " ' An amadiller ! Cudjo niver hear o' dat varmint afore.' " I saw that the animal which had so astonished my com- panion was one of those curious living things which Nature, in giving variety to her creatures, has thought proper to form ; and which are known throughout Mexico and South America by the name of ' armadilloes.' They are so called from the Spanish word ' armado,' which signifies armed ; because that all over their body there is a hard, shell-like covering, divided into bands and regular figures, exactly like the coats of mail worn by the warriors of ancient times. There is even a helmet covering their heads, connected with the other parts of the armor by a joint, which renders this resemblance still more complete and singular. There are many species of these animals ; some of them as large as a full-sized sheep, but the generality of them are much smaller. The curious figuring of the shell that covers them differs in the different species. In some, the segments are squares ; in others, hexagons ; and in others, again, they are of a pentagonal shape. In all of them, however, the figures have a mathematical form and precision that is both strange and beautiful. They look as though they were artificial ; that is, carved by the hand of man. They are harmless creatures, and most of the species feed upon herbs and grass. They do not run very nimbly, though ihey can go much faster than one would suppose, considering the heavy armor which they carry This, however, is not all in one shell, but in many pieces, connected together by a tough, pliable skin. Hence they can use their limbs with sufficient ease. They are not such slow travelers as the turtles and tortoises. When they are pursued and overtaken, tbev .sometiTxies THE PESERT IIO^rE. 7 I gather themselves into a round ball, as hedgekogs do ; and if they should happen to be near the edge of a precipice, they will roll themselves over to escape from their enemy. More often, when pursued, they betake themselves to their holes, or to any crevice among rocks that may be near ; and this was evidently the case with that which Cudjo had surprised. When they can hide their heads, hkethe ostrich, they fancy themselves safe ; and so, no doubt, fancied this one, until he felt the sinewy fingers of Cudjo grasping him by the tail. It was evident the animal had run into a shallow crack where he could go no farther, else w-e would soon have lost sight of his tail ; but it was equally evident, that pulling upon that appendage w^as not the method to get him out. I could see that he had pushed the scaly armor outward and upward, so that it held fast against the rocks on every side. ]\Ioreover, his claws, which are remarkable both for length and tenacity, were clutched firmly against the bottom of the crevice. It would have taken a team of oxen to have pulled him out, as Cudjo remarked with a grin. " I had heard of a plan used by the Indians who hunt the armadillo, and who are very fond of his flesh, and as I was determined to try it, I told my companion to let go the tail, and stand to one side. " I now knelt down in front of the cave, and, taking a small branch of cedar, commenced tickling the hind quarters of the animal with the sharp needles. In a moment I saw that his muscles began to relax, and the shell to separate from the rocks, and close in towards his body. After con- tinuing the operation for some minutes, I observed that he had reduced himself to his natural size, and had no doubt for- gotten to keep a lookout with his claws. Seeing this, l seized the tail firmly ; and, giving it a sudden jerk, swung the armadillo out between the feet of my companion. Cudjo aimed a blow with the ax which neaily severed its head from its body, and killed the animal outright. It was about the size of a rabbit, and proved to be of the eight-banded species — reckoned more delicious eating than any other. Ji ' THE DESfeRT HOME. " We now returned to camp with our firewood, our locust beans, and our armadillo — the last of which objects horrified my wife, when I told her I was going to eat it. It proved a great curiosity to the boys, however, who amused themselves by running their fingers all over its mottled armor. But I had something that amused the little Mary and Luisa still more — the delicious, honey-like pulp from the pods of the locust tree, which they greedily ate. The seeds we extracted from the pulp, intending to roast them as soon as we had kindled our fire. " And now, my friends," continued Rolfe, rising to his feet, " since we have got to talking about this same locust tree, I hope you will not refuse to try a mug of my home- brewed beer, which I made out of its beans this very day, while you were wandering about my grounds and through the valley. It is, perhaps, not equal to Barclay and Per- kins's ; but I flatter myself, that, under the circumstances, you will not find it unpalatable." Saying this, our host brought forward a large flagon, and pouring into our cups a brown-colored liquid, set them before us. We all drank of the " locust beer," which was not un- like mead or new cider ; and to prove that we liked it we drank again and again. As soon as this ceremony was over, Rolfe went on with his narration. THE DESERT HOME. 73 CHAPTER XL A VERY LEAN BUFFALO. " We were all soon engaged in different occupations. Mary was preparing the dried meat, which she intended to boil along with the locust beans in our tin pot. Fortunately, it was a large one, and held nearly a gallon. Cudjo was busy kindling the fire, which already sent up its volumes of blue smoke. Frank, Harry, and the little ones were sucking away at the natural preserves of the acacia, while I was dressing my armadillo for the spit. In addition to this, our horse was filling out his sides upon the rich buffalo grass that grew along the stream ; and the dogs — poor fellows I they were like to fare worst of all — stood watching my opera- tions, and snapped eagerly at every bit that fell from my knife. In a very short while the fire was blazing up, the beef and beans were bubbling over it in the tin pot, and the armadillo was sputtering on the spit beside them. In another short while, all things were cooked and ready to be eaten. " We now remembered that we had neither plates, glasses, knives, forks, nor spoons. Yes, Cudjo and I had our hunt- ing knives ; and, as it was no time to be nice, with these we fished the pieces of meat and some of the beans out of the soup pot, and placed them upon a clean, flat stone. For the soup itself, we immersed the lower part of the pot into the cool water of the stream, so that in a short time Mary and the children could apply the edge of it to their lips, and drink of it in turn. " As for Cudjo and myself, we did not want any of the soup. We were altogether for the * substantial. ' " I thought, at first, I should have all the armadillo to my* §elf. Even Cudjo, who, in * ole Vaginny,' had bolted 'coonf?^ 7^ THE DESERT HOME. 'possums, and various other ' varmints,' for a long time hung back. Seeing, however, that I was eating with evident rehsh, he held out his sable paw, and desired me to help him to a small piece. Having once tasted it, the ice of his appetite seemed to be all at once broken, and he kept asking for more, and then for more, until I began to fear he would not leave me enough for my own supper. '' Neither Mary nor the boys, however, would consent to share with us, although I assured them, what was positively the fact, that what 1 was eating was equal in delicacy of flavor to the finest roast pig — a dish, by the way, to which the armadillo bears a very great resemblance. ' " The sun was now setting, and we began to think how we were to pass the night. We had left all our blankets in the wagon, and the air was fast becoming cold, which is always the case in the neighborhood of snowy mountains. This is easily explained. The atmosphere getting cool upon the peak, where it envelops the snow, of course becomes heavier and keeps constantly descending around the base of the mountain, and pushing up and out that air which is warmer and lighter. In fact, there was a sensible breeze blowing down the sides of the mountain, caused by these natural laws, and it had already made us chilly, after the burning heat through which we had been traveling. Should we sleep in this cold atmosphere, — even though we kept up a fire during the whole night, — I knew that we must suffer much. " The thought now entered into my mind that I might go back to the wagon — which was only five miles off — and bring up our blankets. Should I go myself ? or send Cudjo ? or should both of us go ? All at once the idea entered my head that one of us might ride there, and bring back a load of other articles, as well as the blankets. Our horse, who had been filling himself for the last hour and a half with good grass and water, now began to show symptoms of life and vigor. Animals of this kind soon recover from fatigue Vv'hen their food and drink are restored to them. I saw that he >vou1d be quite able to do the journey; so I gave Cudjo di- THE DESERT HO^IK. 75 rccciops to catch him. There happened to be a piece of rope around his neck, and this would serve for a bridle. I hesitated for some time whether both Cudjo and I should leave Mary and the children ; but my wife urged us to go, telling us she would have no fear, as long as Harry and Frank, with their rifles, remained with her. The dogs, too, would stay. Indeed, there was not much danger of them leaving her, while she held in her arms the little Luisa, whom both these animals seemed to watch over. " Influenced by her advice, I consented to leave her alone with the children ; and, giving directions that they should fire off one of the rifles, in case of any alarm, I set forth with Cudjo and the horse. " We could see the white tilt of the wagon from the very start ; and we had no difficulty in guiding ourselves to it. " As we passed onward, I was reflecting whether the wolves had not already made a meal of our poor ox that we iiad left by the wagon. If not, it was my intention to skin him, and save the meat, lean and tough as it must be — for the animal looked more like some dry skeleton to be pre- served in a museum than anything else. Still I saw before us no prospect of a better breakfast, and I began to grow very anxious as to whether we might find a bit of him left. At this moment, I was startled from my reflections by an exclamation from Cudjo, who had stopped suddenly, and was pointing to some object directly ahead of us, I looked for- ward, and saw in the dim light something that very much re- sembled a large quadruped. " ' P'raps, Massa,' whispered Cudjo, ' him he be de buf fler.' " ' Perhaps it is a buffalo ; but what is to be done ? 1 have left my rifle. Here, take the horse, and I will endeavoi to get near enough to kill it with my pistols.' " Giving Cudjo the horse, and cautioning him to be silent, I drew the largest of my pistols, and crept silently forward. I went upon my hands and knees, and very slowly, so as not to give the animal an alarm. As I got nearer, I felt sure it 76 THE DESERT HOME. was a buffalo ; but the moon had not yet risen, and I could see its form but very indistinctly. At length, I believed I had it within range of my pistol. * At least,' thought I, * if I go any nearer, it will make off ; ' so I halted, — still upon my knees, — and made ready to fire. As I raised my weapon, the horse suddenly neighed ; and, in answer to his neigh, the strange animal uttered a loud roar, which I knew to be nothing else than the bellowing of an ox. And so it proved, as it was neither more nor less than our own ox, who had left the wagon, and was slowly making his way for the moun- tain. The cool air had somewhat revived him, and instinct, or a knowledge of the way we had gone, was guiding him in that direction. " I know not whether I was more pleased or disappointed at meeting our old companion. A good fat buffalo would have been more welcome at the time than a famished ox ; but when I reflected that he might yet help us to get out of the desert, I felt that we were fortunate in finding him still alive. The horse and he put their noses together, evidently pleased at again meeting each other ; and I could not help thinking, as the ox shook his long tail, that the horse must have told him of the nice grass and water that were so near him. The ox had his reins upon him, and, lest he might stray from the track, we tied him to a sage bush, so that we might take him with us when we came back. " We were about leaving him, when it occurred to me, that, if the ox only had a little water, he might, along with the horse, enable us to bring the wagon up to the mountain. What a delightful surprise it would be to Mary, to see us return with ox, wagon, and all — not only the blankets, but also our cups, pans, and cooking pots, besides some coffee, and other little luxuries, that were stored away in our great chest ! ' Ha ! ' thought I, ' that would bie delightful ; ' and I immediately communicated the idea to Cudjo. My com- panion fully agreed with me, and believed it quite possible and practicable. We had brought along with us the tin pot, full of cool water from the stream j but it was too narrow THE DESERT HOME. 77 at the mouth, and the ox could not possibly drink out of it. " * Let us gib it, Massa Roff,' advised Cudjo, ' in de old hoss bucket, once we gets 'im back to de wagon. Ya! ya ! we gib Missa an abstonishment.' And my light-hearted companion laughed with delight at the prospect of making his mistress happy on our return. " Without further parley, we unloosed the rein from the sage bush, and led the ox back towards the wagon. Neither of us rode the horse, as we knew he would have enough to do in dragging up his share of the load. " On reaching the wagon, we found everything as we had left it ; but several large, white wolves were prowling around, and, no doubt, it had been the sight of them that had roused the ox, and imparted to him the energy that had enabled him to get away from the spot. " We soon found the bucket ; and, pouring the water into it, set it before the ox, who drank every drop of it, and then licked the sides and bottom of the vessel until they were quite dry. We now hitched-to both animals ; and, without more ado, drove off towards our little camp at the mountain. " We guided ourselves by the fire, which we could see burning brightly under the dark shadow of the cliffs. Its blaze had a cheering effect on the spirits both of my com- panion and myself ; and even the horse and ox seemed to understand that it would be the end of their journey, an^ pressed forward with alacrity to reach it. " When within about half a mile, I heard the report of a rifle ringing among the rocks. I was filled with alarm. Were Mary and the children attacked by Indians ? — perhaps by some savage animal ? — perhaps by the grisly bear ? " I did not hesitate a moment, but ran forward, leaving Cudjo with the wagon. I drew my pistol, and held it in readiness as I advanced, all the while listening eagerly to catch every sound that might come from the direction of thf fire. Once or twice I stopped for short intervals to breathe and listen ; but there were no noises from the camp. What 78 THE DESERT HOME. could be the meaning of the silence ? Where were the dogs ? I knew that, had they been attacked by a grisly bear, or any other animal, I should have heard their barks and worrying. But there was not a sound. Had they been killed all at once by Indian arrows, so silent in their deadly effect ? () God 1 had my wife and children, too, fallen vic- tims? " Filled with painful apprehensions, I ran forward with increased energy, determined to rush into the midst of the enemy, whoever they might be, and sell my life as dearly as possible. " At length, I came within full view of the fire. What was my astonishment, as well as joy, on seeing my wife sit- ting by the blaze, with little Luisa upon her knee, while Mary was playing upon the ground at her feet ! But where were Harry and Frank ? It was quite incomprehensible. I knew that they would not have fired the rifle to alarm me unnecessarily ; yet there sat Mary, as though no rifle had been fired. " < What was it, dear Mary ? ' I cried, running up. ' Where are the boys ? They discharged the rifle ; did they not?' . " ' They did,' she replied ; ' Harry fired at something.' At what ? at what ? ' I inquired. At some animal, I know not what kind ; but I think they must have wounded it, for they all ran out, dogs and all, after the shot, and have not yet come back.' " ' In what direction ? ' I asked, hurriedly. " Mary pointed out the direction ; and, without waiting further, I ran off into the darkness. When about a hundred yards from the fire, I came upon Harry, Frank, and the mastiffs, standing over some animal which I saw was quite d^ad. Harry was not a little proud of the shot he had made c<.nd expected me to congratulate him, which of course I did ; ^nd laying hold of the animal by one of its hind legs, — for it had no tail to lay hold of, — I dragged it forward to the ?'ght of the fire. It appeared to be about the size of a suckmg THE DESERT HOME. 79 calf, though much more elegantly shaped, for its legs were long and slender, and its shanks not thicker than a common Avalkmg cane. It was of a palen'ed color, whitish along the breast and belly, but its large, languishing eyes and slender forking horns told me at once what sort of animal it was ; it was the prong-horned antelope — the only species of antelope found in North America. " Mary now related the adventure. While they were sitting silently by the fire, and somewhat impatiently await- ing our return, — for the wagon had delayed us considerably, — they saw a pair of large eyes glancing in the dark- ness like two candles, and not many yards from where they sat. They could see nothing but the eyes ; but this of itself was sufficient to alarm them, as they fancied it might be a wolf, or, perhaps, still worse — a bear or panther. The) did not lose presence of mind, however ; and they knew that to escape by running away would be impossible ; so both Frank and Harry took hold of their rifles — though Harry was foremost with his. He then aimed, as well as he could, between the two glancing eyes, ind pulled the trigger. Of course the smoke blinded them, and in the darkness they could not tell whether the bullet had hit the animal or not ; but the dogs — who up to this time had been sleeping by the lire — sprang to their feet, and ran out in pursuit. They could hear them running for some distance, and then they heard a scramble and a struggle, and then they were silent ; so they concluded — what afterwards proved to be the case — thnt Harry had wounded the animal, and that the dogs had caught and were worrying it. And so they were, for as the boys got to the spot they had just killed it ; and, hungry as they were, would soon have made a meal of it, had Frank and K'arry not got up in good time to take care of that. The antelope had been shot in the shoulder, and had only ru/ for a short distance before it fell. '■ Although Harry did not boast of his prowess, I saw that ixd liad a triumphant look — the more so as this fine piece of venison would insure us all against hunger for three days at So THE DESERT HOME. the least ; and, considering that only an hour before we did not know where the next meal was to come from, it was certainly no small matter to be proud of. I thought just then of the surprise I had prepared for them, not only in bringing up the wagon which contained all our utensils and comforts, but in the recovery of our best ox. " ' Where is Cudjo ? ' asked my wife. ' Is he bringing tiie blankets ? ' " ' Yes,' said I, knowingly, ' and a good load besides.' " At that moment was heard the creaking of wheels, and the great tilt of white canvas was seen, far out, reflecting back the blaze of the fire. Frank leaped to his feet, and clap- ping his hands with delight, cried out, — *' ' Mamma ! mamma ! it is the wagon ! ' " Then was heard the loud voice of Cudjo, in a joyous * Wo-ha ! ' and the moment after, the horse and ox stepped up to the fire as lightly as if the pull had been a mere baga- telle, and they could have stood it a hundred miles farther without flinching. We were not slow in relieving both of them from their traces, and giving them a full swing at the grass and water. " As it was now late in the night, and we were all very tired from the fatigues we had undergone, we determined to lose no time in going to rest. Mary went to prepare a bed in the wagon — for this was our only tent ; and a very ex- cellent tent it was, too. At the same time, Cudjo and I set about skinning the antelope, so that we might have it in fine order for our breakfast in the morning. The dogs, too, were interested in this operation — for they, poor brutes ! up to this time, had fared worse than any of us. However, the head, feet, and intestines fell to their share ; and they soon had a supper to their hearts' content. Having finished skinning the antelope, we tied a rope to its legs, and slung it up to the branch of a tree, high enough to be out of the reach of wolves, as well as our own dogs, during the night. " Mary had by this time completed the arrangements for our sleeping, and but one thing more remained to be done THE DESERT HOME. Si before retiring to rest. That was a duty which we never neglected, when circumstances admitted of its being per- formed. Mary knew tliis, and had brought out of the wagon the only book which it contained — the Bible. Cudjo turned up the pine logs upon the lire, and, seating ourselves around the blaze, I read from the sacred book those passages which were most appropriate to our own situation — how God had preserved Moses and the children of Israel in the desert wilderness. " Then, with clasped hands and grateful hearts, we all knelt, and offered thanks for our own almost mirac^ lous deliverance." 82 THE DESERT HOM^. CHAPTER XII. THE BIGHORNS. "Next morning we were up by the earliest break of day, and had the pleasure of witnessing a beautiful phenomenon in the sunrise. The whole country, to the east, as far as we could see, was a level plain ; and the horizon, of course, re- sembled that of the ocean when calm. As the great yellow globe of the sun appeared above it, one could have fancied that he was rising out of the earth itself, although he was more than ninety millions of miles distant from any part of it. It was a beautiful sky, into which the sun was slowly climbing up. It was of a pale-blue color, and without the smallest cloud — for on these high table plains, in the interior of America, you may often travel for days without seeing a cloud as big as a kite. We were all in better spirits, for we had rested well, and had no longer any fear of being followed by the savages who had massacred our companions. They would have been fools, indeed, to have made that dreadful journey for all they could have gotten from us. Moreover, the sight of our antelope, with its nice, yellow fat, crisped by the cold night air, was anything but disheartening. As Cudjowasa dexterous butcher, I allowed him to quarter it, while I shoul- dered the ax and marched off to the mountain foot, to pro- cure more wood for the fire. Mary was busy among lur pots, pans, and platters, scouring and washing them all in the clear stream, for the dust of the barren plains had blown into the wagon as we marched, and had formed a- tliick coat- ing over the vessels. Fortunately, we had a good stock of these utensils, consisting of a gridiron, a large camp kettle, a couple of mess pans, a baking disli, a first-rate coffee- pot and mill, half a dozen tin cups and plates, with an THE DESERT llOM li. . 83 assortment of knives, forks, and spoons. All these things we had laid in at St. Louis, by the advice of our Scotch friend, who knew very well what articles were required for a journey across the desert. " I was not long in getting the wood and our iire was soon replenished and blazing brightly. Mary attended to liic coffee, which she parched in one of the mess pans, and tiien ground in the mill. I handled the gridiron and broiled the venison steaks, while Cudjo collected a large supply of locust beans and roasted Iheni. These last were to ser\ e us for bread, as we had neither meal nor Hour. 'JMie supply we had brought from St. Louis had been exhausted several days before, and we had lived altogether upon dried beef and coffee. Of this last article we were very sparing, as we had not over a pound of it left, and it was our most precious luxury. We had no sugar whatever, nor crean^ ; but we did not mind the want of either, as those who travel in the wilder- ness find coffee very palatable without them — perhaps quite as niuch so as it is when mixed with the whitest of sugar and the yellowest of cream, to the pampered appetites of those who live always at home. But, after all, we should not have to drink our coffee without sweetening, as I observed that Frank, while extracting the beans of the locust, was also scraping the honeyed pulp from the pods and putting it to one side. He had already collected nearly a plateful Well done, Frank I " The great mess chest had been lifted out of the wagon, and the lid of this, with a cloth spread over it, served us for a table. For seats, we had rolled several large stones around the chest, and upon these we sat, drinking the delicious coffee, and eating the savory steaks of venison. " While we were thus pleasantly engaged, I observed Cudjo suddenly rolling the whites of his eyes upwards, at the same time exclaiming, — " * Golly ! Massa — Massa — lookee yonder ! ' " The rest of us turned quickly round — for wc had been iiitting with our backs to the mountain— and looked in the 84 THE DESERT HOME. direction indicated by Cudjo. There were high cliffs front- ing us, and along the face of these, five large, reddish ob- jects were moving, so fast, that I at first thought they were birds upon the wing. After watching them a moment, how- ever, I saw that they were quadrupeds ; but so nimbly did they go, leaping from ledge to ledge, that it was impossible to see their limbs. They appeared to be animals of the deer species — somewhat larger than sheep or goats ; but we could see that, in place of antlers, each of them had a pair of huge, curving horns. As they leaped downward, from one plat- form of the cliffs to another, we fancied that they whirled about in the air, as though they were turning somersets, and seemed at times to come down heads foremost. " There was a spur of the cliff that sloped down to within less than a hundred yards of the place where we sat. It ended in an abrupt precipice of some sixty or seventy feet in height above the plain. The animals, on reaching the level of this spur, ran along it until they had arrived at its end. Seeing the precipice, they suddenly stopped, as if to re- connoiter it ; and we had now a full view of them, as they stood outlined against the sky, wdth their graceful limbs, and great, curved horns, almost as large as their bodies. We thought, of course, they could get no farther for the preci- pice ; and I was calculating whether my rifle which I had laid hold of, would reach them at that distance. All at once, to our astonishment, the foremost sprang out from the cliff, and, whirling through the air, lit upon his head on the hard plain below. We could see that he came down upon his horns, and rebounding up again to the height of several feet, he turned a second somerset, and then dropped upon his legs, and stood still. Nothing daunted, the rest followed, one after the other, in quick succession, like so many street tumblers ; and like them, after the feat had been performed, the animals stood for a moment, as if waiting; for applause. " The spot where they had dropped was not more than fifty paces from our camp ; but I was so astonished at the THE DESERT HOME. 85 tremendous leap, that I quite forgot the rifle I held in my hands. The animals, too, seemed equally astonished upon discovering us, which they did now for the first time. The yelping of the dogs, who rushed forward at the moment, brought me to myself again, as it did the strangers to a sense of their dangerous proximity ; and, wheeling suddenly, they bounded back for the mountain. I fired after them at random ; but we all supposed without effect as the whole five kept on to the foot of the mountain, followed by the dogs. Presently they commenced ascending, as though they had wings ; but we noticed that one of them hung in the rear, and seemed to leap upward with difficulty. Upon this one our eyes became fixed, as we now fancied it was wounded. We were right in this. The rest soon disappeared out of sight ; but that which lagged behind, on leaping for a high ledge, came short in the attempt, and rolled backward down the face of the mountain. The next moment, we saw him struggling between the mastiffs. " Cudjo, Frank, and Harry ran together up the steep, and soon returned, bringing the animal along with them, quite dead, as the dogs had put an end to him. It was a good load for Cudjo ; and proved, upon closer acquaintance, to be as large as a fallow deer. From the huge, wrinkled horns, and other marks, I knew it to be the argali, or wild sheep, known among hunters by the name of the ' bighorn,' and sometimes spoken of in books as the ' Rocky Mountain sheep ; ' although, in its general appearance, it looked more like an immense yellow goat, or deer, with a pair of rams* horns stuck upon his head. We knew, however, it was not bad to eat, especially to people in our circumstances ; and, as soon as we had finished our breakfast, Cudjo and I whetted our knives, and having removed the skin, hung up the carcass alongside the remainder of the antelope. The dogs, for their pains, had a breakfast to their satisfaction ; and the rest of us, seeing so much fresh meat hanging to the tree, with a cool stream of water running beneath it, began to fancy we were quite del ivered from the desert. S6 THF. DESERT HOME. " We now sat down together to deliberate on our future proceedings. Between the argah and the antelope, we had provision enough to last us for a week at least ; but when that was done, what likelihood was there of our procuring a further supply of either? 'Not much,' thought we; f.. although there might be a few more antelopes and a raw more ' bighorns ' about the place, there could not be many with so little appearance of anything for them to feed on. Moreover, we might not find it so easy to kill any more of them ; for those we had already shot seemed to have fallen in our way by chance, or — as we more properly believed at the time, and still believe — by the guiding of a providential hand. But we knew it was not right or wise to rely altogether on this — that is, we knew it was our duty, while trusting in its guidance, at the same time to make every effort which lay in our own power to save curselves. When our present supply should be exhausted, where was the next to come from ? We could not always live upon armadilloes, and argalis, and antelopes, even supposing they were as plenty as the rocks. But the chances were ten to one we should get no more of them. Our ox, in a week, would have improved in condition. He would sustain us for a time ; and then, our horse — and then — and then — the dogs — and then — we should starve to a certainty. " Any of these necessities was sufficiently fearful to con- template. Should we kill our ox, we would be unable to take the wagon along ; and how could the horse carry v^. all out of the desert ? If we then killed the horse, we should be still worse off, and utterly helpless on foot. No man can cross the Great Desert on foot — not even the hunters ; and how could we do it ? To remain where we were would be impossible. There were a few patches of vegetation on the different runlets that filtered away from the mountain foot. There were clumps of willows growinc^ along these, but not enough of grass to support any stock of game upon which we could live, even were we certain of being able to cap- ture it. It was evident, then, to us all, that we should THE DESERT HO^rE. 87 i^Ave to get away from that place as speedily as possi- ble. " The next point to be determined was, whether the desert extended away to the south, as we already knew that it did to the north. To ascertain this, I resolved to go around the mountain, leaving the rest at the camp until my return. " Our horse was now rested, and well fed ; and having saddled him, and shouldered my rifle, I mounted and rode off. I kept around the mountain foot, going by the eastern end. I crossed several rivulets resembling the one on which we had encamped, and noticed that all these turned off to- wards the eastward, making their way to a main stream. In this direction, too, I saw a few stunted trees, wdth here and there an appearance of greenness on the surface. On the way, I saw an antelope, and another animal resembling a deer, but differing from all the deer I had ever seen, in hav- ing a long tail like a cow. I knew not at the time what sort of an animal it was, as I had never met with any description of it in books of natural history. " After riding about five miles, I had fairly got round to the east side of the mountain, and could view the country away to the south. As far as my sight could reach, I saw nothing but an open plain — if possible, more sterile in its character than that which stretched northward. The only direction in which there were any signs of fertility v/as to the east, and that was but in patches of scanty vegetation. " It was a cheerless prospect. We should now certainly have a desert to cross before we could get to anv inhabited country. To strike eastwardly again, for the American fron- tier, — circumstanced as we were, without provisions and with worn-out cattle, — would be madness, as the distance was at least eight hundred miles. Besides, I knew there were many hostile tribes of Indians living on that route ; so that, even should the country prove fertile, we could never hope to get through it. To go northward or southward would be equally impossible, as there was no civilized settlement for a thousand iwiles in either direction. Our only hope, then, would be, to 8S tHE D£SERT HOME. attempt ciossing the desert westwardly to the Mexican set- tlements on the Del Norte' — a distance of nearly two hun- dred miles. To do this, we should need first to rest our ill- matched team for several days. We should also require pro- visions enough for the route ; and how were these to be ob- tained ? * Again,' thought I, * we must trust to Providence, who has already so manifestly extended a helping hand to us.' " I observed that the mountain on the southern face de- scended with an easier slope toward the plain than upon the north, where it is bold and precipitous. From this I con- cluded that a greater quantity of snow must be melted and run ofi in that direction. * Doubtless, then,' thought I, * there will be a greater amount of fertility on that side ; * and I continued to ride on, until I came in sight of the grove of willows and cotton trees \vhich line the stream above the valley here. I soon reached them, and saw that there was a stream with considerable pasturage near its bor- ders — much more than where we had encamped. I tied my horse to a tree, and climbed some distance up the mountain, in order to get a view of the country south and west. I had not got to a great height when I caught sight of the singular chasm that seemed to open up in the plam. I was attracted wdth this peculiarity, and determined to examine it. De- scending again to where I had left my horse, I mounted, and rode straight for it. In a short time I stood upon the brink of the precipice, and looked down into this smiling valley. " I cannot describe my sensations at that moment. Only they whose eyes have been bent for days on the sterile wilderness can feel the full effect produced by a scene of fertility such as there presented itself. It was late in the autumn, and the woods that lay below me — clad in all the variegated livery of that season — looked like some richly- colored picture. The music of birds ascended from the groves below, wafted upward upon the perfumed and aromatic airv and the whole scene appeared more like a fabled Elysium than a reality of nature. I could hardly satisfy myself that THE DESERT HOME. 89 I was not dreaming, or looking upon some fantastic hallucina- tion of the 7ni?'age. " I stood for many minutes in a sort of trance gazing down into the lovely valley. I could observe no signs of human habitation. No smoke rose over the trees, and no noises issued forth, except the voices of nature, uttered in the songs of the birds and the hum of falling waters. It seemed as though man had never desecrated this isolated paradise by his presence and passions. " I say I stood for many minutes gazing and listening. I could have remained for hours ; but the sinking sun admon- ished me to hasten away. I was nearly twenty miles from our camp, and my horse was neither strong nor fresh. De- termined, therefore, to return on the morrow, bringing with me my companions and all that belonged to us, I turned my horse's head and rode back. It was late in the night — near midnight — when I reached camp. I found everything as I had left it, except that Mary was in great anxiety about what had delayed me so long. But my return, and the discovery which I communicated, soon restored her spirits ; and we laid out our plans for changing our camp to the valley, de- termined to set forth at an early hour in the morning." QO TU£ DbSERl HOM£. CHAPTER Xra. THE C-.REAT ELK. " We were stirring by sunrise next morning, and hav ng breakfasted heartily, we packed our wagon and started away from ciar camp, wliicli we liad named ' Camp Antelope.' The s*"eam we called ' Bighorn Creek ' ever afterxA-ards. We arrived at the upper end of the valley about an hour be- fore sunset. Here we passed the night. Next day I started out to find some path by which we might get down into the bottom. I rode for miles along the edge of the bluff, but to my surprise I found that on both sides ran a steep precipice, and I began to fear that the tempting paradise was inac- cessible, and had only been created to tantalize us. At length I reached the lower end, where, as you have noticed, the precipice is much less elevated, on account of the sloping of the upper plain. Here I came upon a path winding grad- ually down, upon which I saw the footmarks of animals of various kinds. This was exactly what I wanted. " In this valley we could remain until our cattle were suf* ficiently recruited to face the desert, while with our rifles we should be able to procure a sufficient stock of provisions for the journey. " I started back for the wagon ; but as I had consumed most of the day in my explorations, it was late when I reached it; and we remained another night at our camp on the stream which we named the ' Willow Camp.' " Next morning, we started early. On arriving at the point where the path led down, we halted the wagon. Mary and the children remained with it, while Cudjo and I de- scended into the valley to reconnoiter. The woods were quit"? tliick, the trees apparently all bound together by huge THE DKSERT HOME. 9I vines, that str<^tched from one to the othei like iiiinieiise ser- pents. There was a thick-undcrgruwth of cane but we saw that a trail had been made through this by the passage of numerous animals. There were no human footmarks to be seen, nor any signs that a human being had ever been upon the spot. " We followed the trail that led us directly to the banks of the stream. It was then very shallow, and a great part of its shingly bed was dry. I saw that this would afford a good road for our wagon, and we kept on up the channel. About three miles from the lower end of the valley, we came to a place where thew^oods were more open, and less choked up w^ith underwood. On the right bank of the stream there was a rising ground, forming a clear space of large extent, wdth only a tree growing here and there. This ground sloped gently down to the stream, and w^as covered with beautiful herbage, both grass and flowers. It was a lovely spot ; and as we came suddenly out upon it, several animals, frightened by our approach, bounded off into the thickets beyond. We stopped for a moment to gaze upon the bright picture. Birds of brilliant wing w^ere fluttering among the many-colored leaves, singing or screaming, and chasing each other from tree to tree. There were parrots, and paroquets, and orioles, and blue jays, and beautiful loxias, both of the scarlet and azure-colored species. There were butterflies, too, with broad wings, mottled all over with the most vivid tints, flapping about from flower to flower. Many of these were as large as some of the birds, and far larger than others ; for w^e saw flocks of tiny Juimming-birds, not bigger than bees, shooting about like sparkling gems, and balancing themselves over the cups of the open flowers. " It was a beautiful scene, indeed ; and Crdjo and I at once agreed that that was the very place to pitch our camp. At the time, we meant it only for a camp — a spot where we might remain until our animals had recruited their strength, and we had collected from the forests around provision enough for the desert journey. A temporary camp, indeed! 92 THE DESERT HOME. That, gentlemen, is ten years ago, and here we are iipun the same spot at this moment ! Yes, my friends, this house stands in the middle of that very glade I have been describ- ing. You will be surprised, when I tell you there w-as no lake then, nor the appearance of one. That came after- wards, as you shall hear. " What the lake now is, was then part of the glade ; and its surface, like the rest, was covered with beautiful vegeta- tion, with here and there trees standing alone, and in small clumps, which gave it a most park-like appearance. In fact, we could not help fancying that there was some splen- did mansion in the background to which it belonged, al- though we saw that the thick, dark woods surrounded it on all sides. " We did not remain longer than was necessary to ex- umine the ground. We knew that Mary would be anxiously looking for us, so we hastened back to our wagon. In less than three hours from that time, the wagon, with its snow- white tilt, stood in the center of the glade, and the ox and horse, loosed from their labor, were eagerly browsing over the rich pasture. The children were playing on the green- sward, under the shadow of a spreading magnolia, while Mary, Cudjo, the boys, and myself were engaged in various occupations about the ground. The birds flew around us, chattering and screaming, to the great delight of our little ones. They came quite close to our encampment, perching upon the nearest trees, and wondering, no doubt, what strange creatures we were, who had thus intruded upon their hitherto untenanted domain. I w^as glad to see them thus curious about us, as I argued from this that the sight of man was new to them, and, therefore, we should be in no danger of meeting with any of our own kind in the valley It is strange, that, of all others, man was the animal we most dreaded to meet. Yet such was the case ; for we knew that any human beings we might fall in with in. such a place would be Indians, and, in all probability, would prove our most cruel enemies. THE DESERT HOME. 93 " It was still early in the afternoon, and we determined to do nothing for the remainder of that day but rest ourselves, as we had all experienced considerable fatigue in getting our wagon up the stream. Rocks had to be removed, and oc- casionally a way hewed through the thick branches. But the difficulty being now over, we felt as though we had reached a home, and we set about enjoying it. Cudjo built a fire, and erected a crane over it, upon Avhich to hang our pots and kettles. The crane consisted of two forked sticks driven into the ground, one on each side of the fire, with a long pole placed horizontally, and resting upon the forks. This is the usual manner of making the crane among backwoods' travelers, who cook their meals in the open air. The tripod crane, used by gypsies in Europe, is rarely to be seen among the wanderers of the American wil- derness. " In a short time, our camp kettle, filled with pure water, was boiling and bubbling to receive the aromatic coffee ; and the remainder of the antelope, suspended over the fire, was roasting and sputtering in the blaze. Mary had set out the great chest, covered with a clean, white cloth — for she had washed it the day before ; and upon this, our tin plates and cups — scoured until they were shining like silver — were regularly arranged. When all these little preparations had been made, we seated ourselves around the fire and watched the dainty venison as it became browned and crisped in the blaze. Cudjo had suspended the joint by a piece of strong cord, so that, by simply whirling it around, it would then continue for some time turning itself, as well as if it had been upon a patent jackspit. We were congratulating ourselves on the fine supper we were likely soon to partake of, when all at once our attention was directed to a noise that came out of the woods, near the border of the open ground. There was a rustling of leaves, with a cracking sound as of dead sticks, broken by the hoofs of some heavy animal. All our eyes were immediately turned in that direction. Presently we saw the leaves in motion, and the next mo- 94 THE DESERT HOME. ment three large animals stepped out into the glade, appar- ently with the intention of crossing it. " At lirst sight we thought they were deer, for each of them carried a pair of branching antlers ; but their great size at once distinguished them from any of the deer species we had ever seen. Any one of them was as large as a Flemish horse, and their huge antlers, rising several feet above their heads, gave them the appearance of being still much larger. On seeing the branched and towering horns, we took them for deer — and in fact they were so ; but far differing from either the red or fallow deer that are to be met with in parks and forests. They were elk — the great elk of the Rocky Mountains. " Qn coming out of the timber, they marched forward, one after the other, with a proud step, that showed the confidence they placed in their great size and strength, as well as in the pointed weapons which they carried upon their heads, and which they can use upon an enemy with terrible effect. Their appearance was extremely majestic ; and we all ad- mired them in silence as they approached, for they came directly towards our camp. " At length they caught sight of our w^agon and fire — neither of which objects, up to this time, they had seen. All at once they halted, tossed up their heads, snorted, and then continued for some moments to gaze at us with an ex- pression of wonder. " ' They will be off, now,' I muttered in an undertone to my wife and Cudjo. * No doubt they will be off in a moment, and they are entirely out of reach of my rifle.' " I had caught hold of the gun on first seeing them, and held it in readiness across my knees. Harry and Frank had also seized their small pieces. " * What pity, Massa Roff,' said Cudjo, * de big rifle no reach 'em I Golly ! de be ebery one fat as Vaginny 'pos- sum 1 * . '* I was thinking whether I might not creep a little closer to them, when, to our surprise, the animals, instead of starting off THE DESERT HOME. 95 into the woods again, came several paces nearer, and again halted, tossing up their heads with ii snore similar to that which they had uttered before. I say that this astonished all of us, for we had heard that the elk was an exceedingly shy animal. So, too, they are, of any danger to whi(!h they are accustomed ; but, like most of the deer and antelope tribe, their curiosity is greater than their fear, and they will ap- proach any object which may be new to them, and examine it minutely, before running off. I saw that curiosity had brought them so much closer to us ; and, thinking they might advance still nearer, I cautioned my companions to remain silent and without making any stir. " The wagon, with its great white tilt, appeared to be the main attraction to our strange visitors ; and, after eying it a moment with looks of wonder, they again moved several paces forward, and stopped as before. A third time they advanced towards it, and again made halt. " As the wagon was at some distance from where we were sitting by the fire, their movements towards it brought their great sides somewhat into our view. Their last advance, moreover, had brought the leader within range of my rifle.' He was much the largest of the three, and I determined to wait no longer, but let him have it ; so, leveling my piece at the place which I supposed lay nearest to his heart, I pulled trigger. "'Missed him!' thought I, as the thr^e great animals wheeled in their tracks, and went away like lightning. What was strange to us, they did not gallop, as most deer do, but went off in a sort of shambling trot, like a ' pacing ' horse, and quite as fast as a horse could gallop. " The dogs — which, up to this time, Cud jo had been hold- ing by their necks — dashed after with yelps and barking. They were all — both elk and dogs — soon lost to our eyes • but for some time we could hear the elk breaking througn the thick cane and bushes, with the dogs yelling in close pursuit. "I thought there would be no chance of the mastiffs com- 96 THE DESERT HOME. ing up with them, and was, therefore, not intending to follow ; when all at once I heard the voices of the dogs change from yelping to that of a worrying sound, as though they were en- gaged in a fierce conflict with one another. *' ' Perhaps I have wounded the animal, and they have overtaken it,' said I. ' Come, Cudjo ! let us after and see, Boys, remain to take care of your mother." *' I laid hold of Harry's rifle, and, followed by Cudjo, ran across the glade in the track which both elk and dogs had taken. As we entered the bushes, I saw that their leaves were sprinkled with blood. " * No doubt,' said I, * he is wounded, and badly, too. We shall have him yet.' " ' Dat we shall, Massa ! ' cried Cudjo ; and we ran on as fast as we could through the thick canebrake, in the track made by the animals. I ran ahead of my companion, as Cudjo was rather slow of foot Every here and there I saw gouts of blood on the leaves and cane, and, guided by the hoarse voices of the mastiffs, I soon reached the spot where they were. Sure enough, the wounded elk was there, down upon his knees, and defending himself with his antlers ; while one of the dogs lay sprawling on the ground, and howling with pain. The other still kept up the fight, en- deavoring to seize the elk from behind ; but the latter spun round, as though his knees were upon a pivot, and always presented his horny spikes in the direction of the attack. " I was afraid the elk might get a blow at one of our brave dogs, and put an end to him, so I fired hastily, and, regard- less of consequences, ran forward to finish him with the butt of the rifle. I struck with all my might, aiming directly for his head, but in my hurry I missed him; and, carried for- ward with the force which I had thrown into the blow, I fell right into the midst of his branching antlers ! I dropped my rifle, and seized hold of the points, with the intention of ex- tricating myself ; but before I could do so, the elk had risen to liis feet, and, with a powerful jerk of his head, tossed me high into the air. 1 came down upon a thick network of THE Df:Sh;RT HOME. 97 vines and branches ; and, my presence of mind still remain- ing, I clutched them as I fell, and held on. It was well that I did so, for directly under me the infuriated animal was bounding from point to point, evidently in search of me, and wondering where I had gone. Had I fallen back to the earth, instead of clinging to the branches, he would, no doubt, 'Jave crushed me to pieces with his fearful horns. " For some moments I lay quite helpless where I had been flung, watching what was passing below. The mastiff still continued his attack, but was evidently cowed by the fate of his companion, and only snapped at the elk when he could get round to his flanks. The other dog lay among the weeds, howling piteously. "At this moment Cudjo appeared in sight, for I had headed him some distance in my haste. I could see the whites of his great eyes turned up in wonderment when he perceived the rifle lying upon the ground without seeing me. I had barely time to utter a shout of warning, when the elk spied him ; and, lowering his head, rushed upon him with a loud and furious snort. " I was filled with fear for my faithful follower and friend. I saw that he carried a large Indian spear — which he had found at the camp where our companions had been massa- cred, — but I had no hope of his being able to ward off the impetuous attack. I saw that he did not even point the weapon to receive the enraged animal, but stood like a statue. ' He is paralyzed with terror,' thought I ; and I expected the next moment to see him impaled upon the sharp antlers and gored to death. But I had very much mistaken my man Cudjo. When the horns were within two feet of his breast, he stepped nimbly behind a tree, and the elk passed him with a rush. So quick had been the action, that for a mo- merit I thought he had gone under, but, o my agreeable sur- prise, the next moment I saw him start out from the tree, and making a lunge with the spear, bury it among the ribs of the animal. No matador in all Spain could have perforiiied the feat mor« cleverly. 7 ^ THE DESERl- HOME. » V shouted with cklight as I saw the huge body rolling to ihe earth; and dropping down from my perch, 1 ran towards the spot. On reaching it, I found the elk panting in the throes of death, while Cudjo stood over his body safe and triumphant. *' ' Bravo ! ' cried I, * my brave Cudjo, you have ended him in earnest.' " ' Yes. Massa,' replied Cudjo, coolly, though evidently with some slight symptoms of triumph in his manner ; ' yes, Massa RofI:', dis black niggur hab gin de gemman a settler under de rib number five. He butt de breath out of poor Cassy no more — poor old Cassy ! ' And Cudjo commenced caressing the aog Castor, which was the one that had suf- fered most fr^>m the horns of the elk. " We were now joined by Harry, who, hearing the strug- gle, could remam no longer in the camp. Fortunately, we found his rifle quite safe ; and Cudjo, drawing his knife, let the blood om. of the animal in a scientific manner. From its great weigh c, — not less than a thousand pounds, — we saw that we could not take the whole carcass to camp without yoking either . he horse or ox to it, so we resolved to skin and quarter it where it lay. After going back for the nec- essary implements, as well as to announce our success, we returned again, and soon finished the operation. Before the sun had set, nearly a thousand pounds of fresh elk meat were dangling from the trees around our little encampment. We had purposely delayed eating until our work should be done; and while Cucijo and I were engaged in hanging up the hug( quarters, Mary had been busy with the gridiron, and an elJ rump steak — c.uite equal to the best beef — added to the e: cellence of om supper. THE DEoERl HOME. 95 CHAPTER XIV. ADVENTURE WITH THE CARCAJOU. *'We arose early next morning, and having eaten a hearty reakfast of elk steaks and coffee, began to consider what was the next thing to be done. We had now quite "enough of meat to carry us to the end of the longest journey ; and it only remained to be cured, so that it would keep on the way. But how were we to cure it, when v/e had not a particle of salt ? Here was a difficulty which for a moment looked us in the face. Only for a moment ; for I soon recollected that there was a way of preserving meat without salt, which has always been much in us-^ among Spanish people, and in countries where salt is very scarce and dear. I had heard, too, that this method was much practised among the trappers and hunters when laying up a stock of buffalo flesh, or of any other animals they might chance to kill. It ii» called * jerking,' and the meat when thus prepared goes by the name of 'jerked mea'.' By the Spaniards, it is called * tasajo.' " I rememi ered having read an account ol the process ; and, after instructing Cudjo in it, we immeclid<:ely set about ' jerking ' the elk. We first built a large fire, upon which we placed a great many sticks of green wood, fresh cut from the tree. This was done so that the fire might burn slowly, and throw out a great volume of smoke. W^e then stuck several stakes into the ground, around the fire, and stretched lines from one to the other. This being done, we touk down the quarters of the elk, and removed the meat from the bones, cutting it off in thin strips, each of them ovcy a yard in length. These strips we hung over the lines already prepared, so that they might be exposed to the smoke and lOO THE DESERT HOME. heat of the fire, although not so much as to cause them to be broiled. The whole process was now ended, excepting that it would be necessary for us to look occasionally to the fire, as well as to see that the dogs and wolves did not leap up and snap off the meat, that hung down from the lines like so many strings of sausages. In about three days the flesh of the elk would be ' jerked,' and capable of being carried to any distance without the danger of spoiUng. " During these three days, we all remained very much in the neighborhood of our camp. We might have procured more game, had we gone out to hunt for it ; but we did not do this, for three reasons : first, because we had enough for our wants ; secondly, we did not wish, under the circum- stances, to waste a single charge of ammunition ; and, lastly, because we had seen the tracks of bears and panthers by the stream. We did not wish to risk meeting with any of these customers in the dark and tangled woods ; which we should have been likely enough to do, had we gone far out in pur- suit of game. We were determined to leave them unmolested as long as they should preserve a similar line of conduct towards us ; and, in order to prevent any of them from in- truding into our camp while we were asleep, we kept a circle of fires burning around the wagon throughout the night. " During these three days, however, we were not without fresh viands, and those, too, of the most luxurious and de- licate kinds. I had succeeded in killing a wild turkey, which, along with several others, had entered the glade, and run close up to our camp before they saw us. He was a large * gob- bler,' — over twenty pounds in weight, — and, I need not tell you ; proved far more delicious eating than his tame cousins of the farm-yard. " At the end of the third day, the elk meat was as dry as a chip ; and, taking it from the lines, we packed it in small bundles, and placed it in our wagon. We now thought of waiting only until our animals should be fairly recruited ; and as both horse and ox were up to their eyes, from morning till night, in rich pasturage, and began to fill out about the THE DESERT HOME. 101 flanks, we were congratulating ourselves that we should not have to wait long. " Of how little value are human calculations I Just at that moment, when we were so sanguine of being able soon to escape from our desert prison, an event occurred, which rendered that escape altogether impossible — for years, at least, and, it might be, forever. But I will detail the cir- cumstance as it happened. " It was on the afternoon of the fourth day after we had had entered the valley. We had just finished dinner, and were sitting near the fire, watching the two children, Mary and Luisa, as they rolled in joyous innocence over the smooth greensward. My ,.ife and I were conversing about the little Luisa — about the unfortunate end of her father and mother — both of whom, we believed, had fallen victims in the savage massacre. We were talking of how we should bring her up, — whether in ignorance of the melancholy fate of her parents, and in the belief that she was one of our own children, — or whether, when she had grown to a sufficient age to under* stand it, we should reveal to her all the story of her orphan- age. Our thoughts now reverted, for the first time, to our own wretched prospects, for these, too, had been blighted by the loss of our Scotch friend. We were going to a strange land, — a land where we knew no one ; of whose language, even, we were ignorant, — a land, too, whose inhabitants were neither prosperous of themselves, nor disposed to counte- nance prosperity in others — much less of the race to which we belonged. We were going, too, without an object ; for that which had brought us so far was now removed by the death of our friend. We had no property, no money — not enough even to get us shelter for a single night : what would become of us ? They were bitter reflections which we drew from thinking on the future ; but we did not permit them to torture us long. " ' Fear not, Robert,' said my noble wife, placing her little hand in mine, and looking cheerfully in my face, * He 102 THE DK^^ERT HOME. who has guarded us through the past is not likely to fail ua in the future.' " * Dear Mary,' I replied, roused to new life and energy by her consoling words, ' you are right^you are right : in Him only let us trust.' " At that moment a strange noise sounded in our ears, coming from the direction of the forest. It seemed distant at first, but every moment drew nearer and nearer. It was like the voice of some animal ' routing ' from extreme terror or pain. I looked around for the ox. The horse was in the glade, bat his companion was not to be seen. Again the voice came from the woods, louder and more fearful than ever. It was plainly the bellowing of an ox, but what could it mean ? Once more it rose upon the air, nearer and more distinct, and sounded as though the animal was running as it cried. " 1 sprang to my rifle, — Frank and Harry also seized theirs, — Cudjo armed himself with the Indian spear ; and the dogs, that had started to their feet, stood waiting a signal to rush forth. *' Once more broke out that terrible cry ; and we could i-.ow hear the sweeping of leaves, and the crackling of branches, as if some huge animal was tearing its way through the bushes. The birds flew up from the thicket, terrified and screaming ; the horse neighed wildly ; the dogs sent forth their impatient yelps, and our children shrieked in affright. Again rose the deep and sonorous roar, filling the valley with its agonizing tones. The cane rattled as it yielded to the crushing hoof. We sav^r the leaves of the thick under- ^vood shaking at a distance, — then nearer, — then up to the edge of the glade, — and the next moment a bright-red object appeared through the leaves, and dashed out into the open- ing. We saw at a glance it was the ox ; but what could it mean ? Was he pursued by some monster — some beast of prey ? No ; not pursued, but already overtaken. Look ! see what the ox carries on his shoulders ! O heavens 1 what a sight 1 " We were all for a while as if thunderstruck. Between THE DKSKRT I If) ME. IO3 the oiioulders of the ox, and clutching him around tlae neck, was a large animal. It at first sight appeared to be a mass of brown, shaggy hair, and part of the ox himself — so closely was it fastened upon him. As they drew nearer, however, we could distinguish the spreading claws, and short, muscular hmbs of a fearful creature. Its head was down near the throat of the ox, which we could see was torn, and dappled with crimson spots. The mouth of the strange animal was resting upon his jugular vein. It was tearing his flesh, and drinking his blood as he ran ! '• The ox, as he came out of the thicket, galloped but slowly, and routed with less energy than before. We could perceive that he tottered as he ran, still making for the camp. In a short time he was in our midst, when, uttering a long moan, he fell to the earth with the death rattle in his throat. " The strange animal, roused by the shock, suddenly let go its hold, and raised itself erect over the carcass. Now, for the first time, I saw what it was. It was the fearful carcajoti ! Now, too, for the first time, it seemed to be aware of our presence, and suddenly placed itself in an attitude to spring. The next moment it had launched its body towards Mary and the children ! We all three fired as it sprang forward ; but our feelings had unnerved us, and the bullets whistled idly away. I drew my knife and rushed after ; but Cudjo was before me, and I saw the blade of his spear glancing towards it like a flash of light, and burying itself in the long hair. With a hoarse growl the monster turned, and, to my joy, I saw that it was empaled upon the spear, which had passed through the skin of its neck. Instead of yielding, however, it rushed up the shaft, until Cudjo was compelled to drop the weapon, to save himself from being torn by its long, fierce claws. Before it could clear itself from the spear, I had drawn my large pistol, and fired directly into its breast. The shot proved mortal, and the shaggy monster rolled over, and struggled for some minutes in the agonies of death. We were saved ; but our poor ox, that was to have drawn us out of the desert, lay upon the grass, a lifeless and ahnost bloodless carcass i^ A^4 THE DEbLKl' llUiMfi, CHAPTER XV. A FRUITLESS SEARCH FOR A TRAIL. " Our hopes of being able to get away from the oasis valley were thus crushed in a moment. The horse could not of himself draw the wagon ; and how could we travel without it ? Even could we have crossed the desert on foot, he v'ould hardly suffice to carry our food and water. But for us to pass one of those terrible stretches of wilderness — by tne bpaniarcis canea • jornaaas — on luoi, was one of th^ question. Even the strongest and hardiest of the trappers often perish in such attempts ; and how should we succeed ? — one of us being a delicate female, and having two children ihat must be carried in our arms. The thing was plainly im- possible ; and as I reflected upon it, the thoughts of its im- possibility filled me with despair. " But were we never to escape from that lonely spot ? What prospect was before us of tver being able to leave it ? No human beings might come to our relief. Perhaps no human foot except our own had ever made its track in that remote valley. This was not at all improbable : and, indeed; a party of hunters or Indians, on their journey across tb.e desert, might visit the mountain without discovering the valley — so strangely was it hollowed out of the plain. " I had but little hope that any caravan or party of traders would pass that way. The desert that surrounded us was a sufficient barrier against that ; besides, I knew that the mountain was far to the southward of the trails usually followed by the prairie traders. There was but one hope that I could cling to with any degree of confidence — that was, that the desert might not stretch so far to the south or west as it appeared to do ; and by breaking up the wagon, THE DESERT HOME, I05 and making a light cart out of it, we might still be able to cross it. I was determined, therefore, first to go alone, and epcplore the route in both these directions. If it should ap- pear practicable, I could return, and put this design into execution " Next morning, having loaded my horse with provisions, and as much water as he could well carry, I took an affec- tionate leave of my wife and little ones, and, commending them to the protection of God, I mounted, and rode off to- wards the west. I headed in this direction for a day and a half, and still the waste stretched to the horizon before me. I had made but a short journey, for the path led through ridges and hillocks of moving sand, and my horse sank to the knees at every step. In the afternoon of the second day, I turned back from the attempt, fearful that I should not be able to regain the valley. But I succeeded at length — both myself and horse almost dead with thirst on arriving there. " I found my little party all well as I had left them ; but I had brought them no glad tidings, and I sat down in their midst with a feeling of despair. " My next feconnoissance was to be to the south, and I only waited until my jaded horse might be sufficiently rested for the journey. " Another day passed, and I was sitting upon a log near the fire, reflecting upon the dark future that lay before us. I was filled with despondency, and took no note of what was passing around. When I had sat in this way for some time, I felt a light hand touching me upon the shoulder, and^ looking up, I saw that Mary had seated herself upon the log beside me, while a smile of cheerfulness and composure was playing upon her fair features. " I saw that she had something in her mind that she was about to communicate to me. What is it, Mary ? ' I asked. Is not this a lovely spot ? ' said she, waving her hand so as to indicate the whole scene by which we were sur- jTOunded. My eyes, along with hers, roanied for a moment (( < Io6 THE DESERr HOME. over the fair picture and I could not do otherwise th^n answer in the affirmative. It was, indeed, a lovely spot. The open glade, with the golden sun streaming down upon its green herbage and vivid flowers ; the varied tints of the forest frondage, now dressed in the brilliant livery of au- tumn ; the cliffs beyond, contrasting with it in color from I heir lining of dark-green cedars and pines ; and, higher still, the snow-white summit, as it towered against the blue sky, sparkling under the sun, and lending a delicious cool- ness to the air, — all these objects formed a panorama that was, indeed, lovely to look upon. And there were sweet sounds falling upon the ear — the murmur of distant waters, the light rustling of leaves, stirred by a soft breeze that blew past laden with the aromatic odors of buds and flowers ; the music of birds that sang to each other in the groves, or uttered their joyous calls as they flapped their bright wings over the open glade. "'Yes, Mary,' I replied; 'it is, indeed, a lovely spot.' "'Then. Robert,' said she, with a look of strange mean- ing, ' why should we be so anxious to leave it ? ' " ' Why ? ' I repeated mechanically after her, wondering at the question. " ' Yes, why ? ' continued my wife. ' We are in search of a home ; why not make t/i/s our home ? Where can we find a better ? How know we that in that land whither we were going, we may find one so good — if indeed, they give us a home at all ? " " ' But, dear Mary,' said I, ' how could you live away from the world — you who have been brought up in the midst of society and its refinements ? " " ' The world ! ' replied she ; ' what care we for the world ? Have we not our children with us ? They will be our world, and we can be society enough for each other. Moreover,' continued she, ' remember how little we have in that world ; remember how it has used us so far. Have we been happy in it? No; I have enjoyed more happiness here than 1 evei did in the midst of that society of which THE DESERT HOME. I07 you speak. Think, Robert ! reflect before we rashly leave this lovely spot — this sweet home — into which I can almost believe the hand of God has guided us." " ' But, Mary, you have not thought of the difficulties, the wardships, to which such a life may expose you.' " I have,' she replied. ' I have thought of all these while you were absent. I can see no difficulty in our procuring a subsistence here. The Creator has bountifully stocked this singular oasis. We may easily obtain all the necessaries of life — for its luxuries I care but little. We can live without them.' '• Her words produced a strange effect upon me. Up to that moment, the idea of i-eviaining in the oasis had never entered my mind. I had only occupied myself with speculat- ing on the means by which we could escape from it. Now, however, a sudden change came over my thoughts ; and I began to think seriously of following the counsel of my self- sacrificing companion. The harsh treatment we had received at the hands of civilized man ; buffeted about by ill fortune ; continually deceived, and at every step becoming poorer and more dependent, — all had their effect in blunting that desire I should otherwise have felt to get back to the world. I was not averse then to the idea, but rather ready to fall at once into the plan. •• I remained silent for a length of time, casting over in my mind the possibility of our carrying out such a scheme — the chances of our being able to procure subsistence. It was .evident there was plenty of game in the valley. We had occasionally seen deer of different species, and we had also discovered the tracks of other animals. There were pheasants and turkeys, too, in abundance. We had our rifleSj^ and by good fortune a large stock of ammunition — for, besides my own, Harry and Frank had powder horns, containing nearly a pound each. But this, in time, would be expended ; what then ? O, what then ? Before that, I should find out some other mode of capturing our game. Besides, the valley might contain many other things intended Io8 THE DESERT HOME, to sustain life — roots and fruits. We had already found some indications of this ; and Mary, who was an accomplished botanist, could tell the uses of them all. We should find both food and water. What more could we ask from the hand of nature ? " As I ran these thoughts through my mind, the project became every moment more feasible. In fact, I grew quite as enthusiastic about it as my wife. " Cudjo, Frank, and Harry were brought into our council ; and they, too, received the idea with delight. The faithful Cudjo was contented, as he alleged, with any lot, so long as he might share it with us. As for the boys, they were in raptures with the thought of such a free, wild life. " We did not fully resolve upon any thing for that day. We were determined not to act rashly, but to reflect seriously upon it, and to renew our deliberations on the following morning. " During that night, however, a circumstance occurred, which at once fixed my resolution to remain in the valley — at least, until some unforeseen chance might enable us to leave it with a better prospect of safety." I THE DESERT HOME. lOQ CHAPTER XVI. THE MYSTERIOUS FLOOD. « Well, my friends, I shall now detail to you the strange incident which at once decided me to adopt the suggestion of my wife, and make our home in the valley. Perhaps we did not, at the time, contemplate staying here for the re- mainder of our lives, but only for a few years. However, we resolved to remain for the present, and give our lonely life a fair trial, leaving the future an open question. " The reason why I had hesitated at all upon the subject was this : I could not think of settling down with no pros- pect of improving our condition ; for, however much we might exercise our industry, its products could not enrich us beyond the satisfying of our own wants. ' We should have no market,' thought I, ' for any superfluous produce, even could we cultivate the whole valley.' We could, there- fore, become no richer, and would never be in any fitter state to return to civilized society ; for, in spite of all, a thought of this still remained in my mind. *' Mary, who was of a far more contented disposition than I, still persisted in arguing that, as our happiness did not depend upon possessing riches, we would never desire to leave that lovely spot, and that, consequently, we should stand in no need of wealth. " Perhaps hers was the true philosophy — at all events, it was the natural one. But the artificial wants of society im- plant within us the desire of accumulating individual prop- erty ; and I could not rid myself of this provident feeling. ' If we could only find some object,' said I, ' upon which we might be exercising our industry, so that our time should not be wasted^ and by which we might prepare ourselves for re- no THE DESERT HOME. turning to society, then for a time might we live most happily here.' " ' Who knows ? ' said Mary, in reply to this ; ' there may be objects in this valley that may occupy us, and enable us to lay up the very store }ou speak of, as well as if we were to continue on to New Mexico. What opportunities should we have there better than here ? We have nothing now to begin life with anywhere. Here we have food and land, which I think we may fairly call our own ; there we should have neither. Here we have a home ; and how know you, Robert, that w^e may not yet make a fortune in the desert ? ' '' We both laughed at the idea ; which, of course, Mary had meant only as a jest, in order to render our prospects more cheering. " It was now near midnight, for we had sat up to that late hour deliberating on what we should do. As I have said, we agreed to leave the matter undecided until the morrow. The moon was just appearing over the eastern cliff ; and we were about rising to retire to our resting-places, when our eyes fell upon an object that caused us all at the same time to cry out with astonishment. " I have said, that, when we first entered this valley, there was no lake here. Where you now see one was a green- sward, with here and there a coppice of trees, forming part of tlie little prairie in which we were encamped. The stream I an across it, as it still does through the lake : but at this point there were scarcely any banks, as the water flowed over a wide and shallow channel. On previous nights, when the moon was shining into the valley, as we sat around our camp fire, we had noticed the stream winding like a silver thread through the dark green herbage. Now, to our ex- treme wonder, instead of the narrow line, a broad sheet of water glistened before us. It seemed to cover a space of several hundred yards in extent, reaching far up the glade towards our camp. Could it be water, or was it only the mirage — \\\^fata morgana? No; it was not the latter. We had witnessed this before, on our passage across the great THE DESERT HOME. Ill t>1«7ns. We had witnessed it on several occasions, and it was nothing hke what we now saw. There is a. filmy, whitish appearance about the illusions of the mi?'age, by which tlie experienced traveler can always distinguish it from the real. Bat there was nothing of that in the present in- stance. It was water that spread before us ; for the moon, that had now risen above the cliff, was plainly reflected upon its calm and glassy surface. Yes ; it could be nothing but a sheet of water. " But we were determined not to trust to our eyes alone. We all ran towards it — Cudjo, the boys, and myself; and in a few seconds we stood upon its edge — upon the edge of what appeared to be a large lake, formed as if by some magical influence. " We had, at first, regarded the phenomenon only with feelings of wonder; but our wonder was now changed to consternation, when we perceived that the water was still rising. It ran in about our feet while we stood, rippling slowly against the gentle ascent, like the influx of a tide. " ' What could it mean ? we asked of each other with looks that betrayed our fears. Was it a flood — an inunda- tion — a sudden swelling of the stream ? This it plainly was ; but what could have caused it ? There had been no rain for several days before, and no great heat to have caused any unusual melting of the snow upon the mountain. What, then, could be the origin of this sudden and singular freshet ? What could it mean ? " We stood for some time silent, with hearts beating audi- bly — each looking at the others for an answer to this ques- tion. The solution seemed to strike us all at the same time, and a fearful one it was. Some terrible convulsion — the falling of the precipice, perhaps — had dammed the canon below ; no doubt, had blocked up the great fissure by which the stream found its way from the valley. If such were the case, then, the valley would soon fill with water, not only to cover the ground occupied by our camp, but the topt of the highest trees. 112 ' THE DESERT HOME. " You will easily conceive the terror with which this thought was calculated to inspire us. We could think of no other cause for the strange inundation, nor, indeed, did we stay longer to consider of any, but ran back to the camp, determined to escape from the valley as soon as we could. Cud jo caught the horse ; Mary awoke the children, and brought them out of the wagon ; while the boys and I busied ourselves in collecting a few necessary things, that we might be enabled to carry along with us. " Up to this time we had not thought of the difficulty — much less the iinpossibility — of escaping from the valley. To O'lr horror, that now became clear as the sun at noonday ; for we perceived that the road by which we had entered the glade, and which lay along the stream, was completely covered, and the rising water reached far beyond it. There was no other path by which we could get out. To attempt cutting one through the thick, tangled woods, would be the work of days ; moreover, we remembered that we had crossed the stream on the way to our camp, and that, of course, would now be swollen below, so that to recross it would be impossible. We had no doubt but that the valley, at its lower end, was, by this time, filled with water, and our retreat in that direction completely cut off. We knenf of no other path ! " I cannot describe the state of mind into which we were thrown when these facts became evident to one and all of us. We were about to start out from the camp, each of us carrying our burden ; but it was plainly of no use making the attempt, and we let fall the various utensils with a feeling of despair. The water was still rising — the lake was grow- ing larger / " The wolves howled, driven from their lair by the en- croaching element ; birds, roused from their sleep, screamed and fluttered among the trees ; our dogb barked at the strange sight ; and, in the clear moonlight, we could see deer, and other wild animals, rushing, as if terrified, through the open glade. O God ! were we to be ingulfed, and perish in this mysterious flood I THE DESERT HOME. 1 13 " What was to be done ? Should we climb into the tK ts ? That would not save us. If the great channel was blocked up below, I knew that //la/ would not save us ; for its jaws were higher then the tops of the highest trees, and the rising flood would soon lick us from the branches. It might pro- long our lives, and with them our despair ; but what — ' Ha ! ' The thought, Heaven-directed, at this moment entered my mind. " ' ^ ra/f/ a raft ! We shall yet be saved f^ " My companions at once understood my meaning. Cud- jo seized the ax, while Mary hastened to the wagon to col- lect such ropes and cords as were in it. I knew there would not be enough of these for our purpose ; and, spreading out the great elk skin, I proceeded to cut it into strips. " There were several logs lying close to our camp. They were the trunks of tall, straight trees, that from time to time had fallen, and were now quite dead and dry. They were the trunks of the beautiful Hriode?id?'on, or tulip tree, out of which the Indians always make their canoes, when they can get them of sufficient size. This, because their wood is extremely soft and light — weighing only twenty-six pounds to the cubic foot. While busy myself, I directed Cudjo to cut a number of these logs into equal lengths. Cudjo knew how to handle an ax with any other man, and the logs were soon of the proper dimensions. We now rolled them together, and, by the aid of our ropes and cross pieces, lashed them firmly to one another, and our raft was completed. Upon this we placed our great chest, containing the jerked meat, with our blankets, and such utensils as were necessary to be saved. We laid in no stock of water for the expected voyage ; we had no fear about our having enough of that. " We had been occupied nearly two hours in constructing the raft ; but during all this time we had been so busy, that we had hardly looked in the direction of the flood, only to see that it still continued to rise. As soon as our arrange- ments were completed, I ran down to the water's edge. After watching it for a few minutes, to my great joy I per- 114 "^^^ DKSKI^T IIO.MK. ceived that the flood wws at a staiid I I shouted the glad news to my companions, who, on hearing it, hastened to join me, and assure themselves by actual observation. For half an hour, we all stood upon the shore of the new-formed lake, until we became convinced that its waters were rising no higher. We saw, too, that they did not subside, but re- mained stationary. ' It has reached the top of whatever has dammed it,' thought we, ' and is now flowing over.' " 'What a pity, Massa Roff,' said Cudjo, as we wended our way back to the camp — what a pity we make dat fine raff for nuffin ! " " ' Ah, Cudjo,' rejoined my wife, * we should never regret having performed that which is a work of precaution ; and we must remember that the raft — although it may not be re- quired as we intended it — has already far more than repaid us for the labor bestowed upon it. Remember the misery we were suffering but a short time since and from which the idea of this raft at once relieved us. Measures of precau tion, however irksome, should always be adopted. It is only the slothful and vacillating who either neglect or regret them.' " ' Dat's true, Missa — dat's berry true,' said Cudjo, in a serious tone, for he well knew how to appreciate the teach- ings of his noble mistress. " It was now very late, or rather \'ery early, and Mary, with the children, returned to their usual resting-place in the wagon. Cudjo and I, fearing to trust to the capricious water, determined — lest it might take another turn, and ' catch us napping ' — to keep watch on it till the morning. ' THE DESERT HOME. 11$ CHAPTER XVII. THE BEAVERS AND WOLVERENE. '' When daylight came, the mysterious flood was still stand- .'vi<; at its full height. I call it mysterious, for as yet we knew nothing of what had so suddenly created it. We could think of no other cause than the falling in of the precipice below, I had determined, as soon as the day fairly broke, to make my way through the woods, and remove all doubt — for we still felt some uneasiness in regard to this strange phenom- enon. " Leaving Cud jo with his long spear, and the boys with their rifles, to guard the camp, I set forth alone. I took with me my gun, as well as a small hatchet which we had, to clear away a track through the brushwood. " I struck at once into the woods, and guiding myself by an occasional glimpse of the sun, that had now risen, I kept on in a south-easterly course. It was my intention to get out on the edge of the flood some distance below, when I could then skirt around it. After cutting my way through the brambles to the distance of nearly a mile, I came sud- denly out upon the bank of the rivulet ; and guess my sur- prise, on seeing that the stream was not only not swollen, but there was even less water than usual running in its chan- nel ! I noticed, however, that the water was muddy, and that green leaves and fresh broken twigs were floating down upon its current. " Of course, I now turned my face up stream knowing that the dam must be in that direction ; but, for my life, I could not imagine how any accident of nature could have stopped up the channel above. The falling of trees could not pos- sibly have produced such an effect ; and there were no high no THE DESERT HOME. bluffs abutting on the rivulet that could have fallen into its bed. I began to believe that human hands had been at work ; and I looked for the prints of human *^^et. 1 saw none, but the tracks of animals were numerous. Thousands of them, at least, — great, broad feet, webbed like th)se of a duck, but with sharp claws, — were impressed in the sajd and mud, all along the banks of the stream. " I moved forward very cautiously ; for, although I could not discover their tracks, I was still fearful that Indians, and of course enemies, were near. At length I reached a bend in the stream, above which I remembered that the chan- nel was narrower, and ran between banks of a considerable height. I remembered this well, for, on first entering the valley we had been obliged at this place to draw the wagon out of the bed of the rivulet, and cut a way for it through the adjacent woods. No doubt, then, I -would there find the obstacle that had so mysteriously intercepted the current. " On reaching this bend, I climbed out upon the bank ; and, stealing silently through the underwood, I peeped through the leaves. A most singular scene was before me. " The stream, as I had rightly conjectured, was dammed up at the point where the channel was narrowest, but not by any accident. The work bore the marks of design, as much as if it had been constructed by human hands. A tall tree had been felled across the stream — so that the place where it had been cut through was not detached from the stump, but still held fast by its crushed fibers. On the other side, its top branches were buried under rocks and mud, so as to render them secure. Against this tree upright stakes rested ; and these again w^ere wattled together, and firmly bedded in rocks that had been collected around theii lower ends. Behind these uprights were piled other stakes and branches, laid crosswise, and bound together with layers of rocks and mud — so that the whole structure formed a wall of full six feet in thickness, broad along the top, and slop- ing off toward the water. On the lower side it stood oearly perpendicular, as the uprights were thus set Tb^ THE DESERT HOME. II7 top of this was plastered with mud, and at both sides was left a narrow sluice, or wash, through which the water ran smoothly off, without wearing away the breastwork. " I have said that the work bore the marks of design, as much as if it had been constructed by human hands. But it was not. The builders of that breastwork were before my eyes, and apparently just resting from their labors. " There were about a hundred of them in all, squatting over the ground and along the parapet of the new-made dam. They were of a dark brown,— or, rather, a chestnut color, — ■ and reminded me of so many gigantic rats, except that their tails were not elongated and tapering like these. Their backs, however, were arched, and their bodies of a thick, rounded shape, similar to animals of the rat kind. Moreover, I could perceive that they were armed with the cutting teeth which distinguish the family of the rodentia, ox 'gnawers.' These teeth I could see distinctly, as some of the animals were using them at the time, and they even protruded when their mouths were shut. I noticed that there was a pair of them in each jaw, broad, strong, and shaped like chisels. The ears of the animals were short and almost buried in the hair, which, although long, was not shaggy, but presented a smooth appearance over all parts of their bodies. There was a tuft of stiff bristles growing out on each side of the nose, like the whiskers of a cat ; and their eyes were small, and set high up, like those of the otter. Their fore limbs were shorter than the hind ones, and both had feet with five claws ; but the hind feet were broad and large, and completely webbed between the toes. It was they, then, that had made the tracks I had observed in coming up the stream. But the most striking feature of these animals was the tail. This appendage was entirely without hair, of a dark color, and looking as though it was covered with the well-known substance — shagreen. It was about a foot in length, several inches broad and thick, and not at all unlike a cricket bat — except that it appeared heavier and more oval-shaped at the end. The animals were somewhat larger Il8 THE DESERT HOME. than otters; not so long, but much thicker and heavier in the body. " I had never seen sucli creatures before, but I knew at once what they were ; for altiiough I had neglected my other studies, natural history had always been my favorite, and I had made some progress in that. I knew, then, that the strange beings before me were beave?'s — the castor fiber of the naturalists. " The whole mystery was now explained. A colony c\ beavers had migrated into the valley, and constructed theii dam ; and this it was which had caused the sudden inunda- tion. " I remained for some time, after I had made the dis- covery, watching these creatures and their interesting move- ments. The breastwork appeared to l)e quite finished ; but this did not follow from the fact that the animals were no longer at work upon it, as it is only by night they perforni such labor. In fact, they are rarely seen, except by night, in countries where they have been disturbed or hunted ; but here they were evidently unaccustomed to man. They ap- peared to be resting after their night's work. It is not likely that they had built the whole breastwork during that one night, but had only put on the finishing part which had pro- duced the sudden flood. As the glade above where they had dammed the rivulet was nearly level, a very small stop- page in the stream sufficed to inundate a large extent of ground, as it had actually done " Some of the beavers were sitting upon the newly-raised work, gnawing the leaves and twigs that stuck out from the mud ; others were washing themselves, disporting playfull:^' through the water ; while others squatted upon logs that V\y^ along the edge of the dam, every now and again flapping their heavy tails upon the water, like so many laundresses beating out their wet linen. " It was a curious and comical sight ; and, after having enjoyed it for some time, I was about stepping forward to witness what effect my presence would produce, when, all at lit I'. I»L>KI< 1 ild'.tiv. I I ;; r»nce, I perceived that some other object had created a sud- den commotion among the animals. One of them, who had been stationed upon a log at some distance up the lake, and apparently acting as a sentry, now ran out upon the log, and struck the w^ater three quick, heavy flaps with his tail. This was evidently a signal ; for the moment he had given it, the animal, as if pursued, pitched himself headforemost into the lake, and disappeared. The rest started as soon as they heard it ; and looking around for a moment, as if in affright, they all ran to the bank, and plunged simultaneously under the water, each of them striking a blow^ with his tail as he went under. •* I now looked for the cause of this sudden movement. All at once I perceived, coming around the lake where the sentry beaver had disappeared, a strange-looking animal. It moved slowly and silently, skulking among the trees, and keeping close in to the water's edge. I saw that it was mak- ing for the new-built dam, and I remained where I was to watch it. At length it reached the breastwork, and crawled cautiously along it, keeping behind the parapet, so as not to be seen from the lake above. " I had now a good view of it, and a vicious-looking crea- ture it \v^s. It was not much larger than one of the beavers themselves, and in some points not unlike them, but m othet respects the difference was marked. It was of a ver}' dif- ferent color — being nearly black upon the back and belly. while a light-brown stripe traversed both its sides, meeting over its rump. Its nose and feet were completely black, while its breast and throat were white, and a whitish ring w^as around each of the eyes. It had small ears, with stiff bristles at the nose, and a short and bushy tail. The hair over its whole body was long and shaggy- Its legs were thick and muscular, and so short, that, when it moved, its belly seemed to trail along the ground. It appeared rather to crawl than to walk. But this arose from the fact of its being an an-mal of the plantigrade family, and using its feet to walk upon which, in many other animals, such as the I20 TilE DESERI' HOME. horse, appear to form part of the legs. With the animal in question, the feet were long, black, and armed with white, curving claws. Its whole appearance was that of a carnivo- rous creature — in other words, it was a beast of prey. It was the wolverene^ the dreaded enemy of the beaver. " On arriving out near the middle of the breastwork, it stopped, and, planting its forefeet up against the parapet, raised its head slowly, and looked over into the lake. *' Although the beaver is an amphibious animal, and spends full half of his time in the water, he cannot remain long, without coming to the surface to take breath ; and already the heads of several were seen at different points in the lake. Others, again, had boldly climbed out on the little islets which here and there appeared above watei, and where they knew that the wolverene, who is not a good swimmer, could not reach them. None of them, hovv-cvcr, showed any si^nis of returning to the breastwork. " The wolverene seemed also to have arrived at this con- clusion ; for now — apparently careless of being seen from the lake — he looked around him on all sides and above, as if he either intended giving up the pursuit of his prey, or adopting some more effective measure to secure it. At length he appeared to have formed some resolution, and leaping boldly up on the parapet, so as to be seen by the beavers, he walked back again along the water's edge whence he had come. On getting a good distance from the breastwork, he stopped for a moment, and then, turning away from the lake, ran off into the woods. " I was curious to see whether the beavers would now re- turn to the breastwork, and I resolved to remain a while longer without showing myself. I waited about five minutes, or more, at the end of which time I saw several of them, who had gone to the most distant islets, plunge into the water, and come swimming towards me. As I was watching them, all at once I heard a rustling among the fallen leaver near the dam, and on looking, I perceived the wolvtrene making all the haste he could towards the breastwork. On THE DESERT HOME. 121 reaching it, however, instead of running out behind the parapet as before, I saw him plant his long claws against a tree, and commence climbing upward, keeping on that side farthest from the lake. The branches of this tree stretched horizontally out, and directly over the breastwork. In a short time, the wolverene had reached the fork of one of these ; and, crawling out upon it, he laid himself flat along the branch and looked downward. " He had scarcely settled himself on his perch, when halt a dozen beavers — thinking, from what they had seen, that he must have gone clear off — climbed out upon the breastwork, flapping their great tails as they came. They were soon under the very branch, and I saw the wolverene with his legs erected and ears set for the spring. This was my time ; and, glancing up the barrel of my rifle, I aimed directly for his heart. At the crack, the astonished beavers leaped back into the water, while the wolverene dropped from his perch — a little sooner, perhaps, than he had intended — and rolled over the ground, evidently wounded, I ran up and struck at him with the butt-end of my gun, intending to finish him ; but, to my astonishment, the fierce brute seized the stock in his teeth, and almost tore it to pieces 1 For some time I hammered him with huge stones — he, all the while, endeavoring to lay hold of me with his long, curved claws ; and it was not until I got a down blow at his head with my ax that the fight was ended. A fearful-looking monster he was, as he lay stretched before me, and not unlike the carca- jou which had killed our ox at the camp, only smaller. I did not attempt to take his carcass with me, as it was a use- less burden. Moreover, from the fetid smell which he emitted, I was glad to part company as soon as I had killed him ; and, leaving him where he lay, I took the shortest road back to the camp." ^33 Ttii:: i;L6ERi' aoMJk CHAPTER XVIIL HOW TO BUILD A LOG CABIN. " I NEED not describe the joy of my wife and the rest when I returned and related to them what I had seen, as well as my adventure with the wolverene. The discovery that our new-made lake was nothing else than a great beaver dam at once decided the question as to our remaining in the valley. Here was a source of wealth to me, far greater than would have been any situation in the mines of Mexico — in fact, better than a mine itself. The skin of every beaver in that dam I knew to be worth a guinea and a half. I saw there were at least a hundred of them — there might be many more, and how soon would these multiply into thousands, produc- ing annually four or five young to every pair of them ! We could tend them, taking care to provide them with food, and destroy the wolverenes, and any other of their enemies that might exist in the valley. They would thus increase the faster ; and we could easily prevent them from becoming too numerous, by trapping the older ones, and carefully preserv- ing their skins. After several years thus employed, we could return to civilized life, carrying with us enough of their valu- able fur to sell for a smart fortune. " The prospect of staying where we were was now de- lightful ; the more so, as I was satisfied it was the best thing 1 could do. Even had I been able to procure a pair of fresh oxen at that moment, I should not have moved a step far- ther. What Mary had said in jest was now likely to be realized in earnest — We might yet make our fortune in the desert. " Of course, it was a settled ]')oint — we resolved to re- r«iaia. THE DESERT HOME. 1 23 "The first thing to be done, then, was to provide oui=- selves with a house. It would be a ' log cabin,' of course ; and putting up a log cabin was a mere bagatelle to Cudjo. During our residence in Virginia, he had built two or three on my farm ; and no man knew better than he how to do the thing. No man knew better than he how to shape the logs, notch them, and lay them firmly in their beds ; no man knew better how to split the clapboards, lay them on the rafters, and bind them fast, without even a single nail ; no man knew how to ' chink ' the walls, clay the chimney, and hang the door of a log cabin, better than Cudjo. No ; 1 will answer for that. Cudjo could construct a log cabin as well as the most renowned architect in the world. " There was plenty of the right kind of timber at hand — plenty of tulip trees, with their tall, straight trunks, rising to the height of fifty feet without a branch ; and for the next two days the ax of Cudjo could be heard with its constant ' check, check,' while every now and then the crash of a fall ing tree woke the echoes of the valley. While Cudjo was felling the timber and cutting it into logs of a proper length, none of the rest of us were idle. In cooking our meals, scouring the vessels, and looking after the children, Mary found sufficient employment; while Frank, Harry, and I, with the help of our horse Pompo, were able to drag the logs forward to the spot where we had designed to put up the cabin. " On the third day, Cudjo notched the logs, and on the fourth we raised the walls up to the square. On the fifth, we set up the gables and rafters, which, you know, is done by shortening the gable logs successively, as you go upward, and tying each pair of them by a pair of rafters notched into them, at the ends, precisely as the wall logs below. A ridge pole completed the frame, and that was laid by the evening of the fifth day. " Upon the sixth day, Cudjo went to work upon a large oak which he had felled and cut into lengths of about four iee* each, at the beginning of our operations. It was now some- what dry, so as to split easily and, with his ax and a set of 124 'i'HE DESERT HOME. wedges, he attacked it. By sunset, he had a pile of clap- boards beside him as large as a wagon — quite enough to shingle the roof of otir house. During that day, I employed myself in tempering the clay for chinking the walls and plastering the chimney. " On the seventh day, we all rested from our labor. We did so because it was Sunday. We had resolved ever to keep the Sabbath. Though the eyes of men could not see us, — which I fear is too often the reason for observing the sacred day, — we knew that the eye of God was upon us, even in that remote valley. " We rose as early as usual, and, after eating our break- fast, the Bible was brought forth, and we offered — the only sacrifice to Him acceptable — the sacrifice of our hum- ble prayers. Mary had been busy during the week, and our little ones were dressed out as if for a holiday. Taking them along with us, we all walked down to the lake, and some distance around its edge. We saw that the beavers had been as busy in building as we; and already their cone-shaped dwellings appeared above the water — some of them near the shore, and others upon the little islets. There was only one which we could reach, and this we examined with great curiosity. It stood only a few yards from the shore, but at a space where the water was deep on its front side. It was nearly cone shaped, or, rather, the form of a beehive, and was constructed out of stones, sticks and mud mixed with grass. Part of it was under water, but, although we could not look into the interior, we knew that there was an upper story above water mark, for we saw the ends of the joists that supported the second floor. The entrance was towards the center of the lake, and under the water — so that, in going out of and into the house, the beaver is always under the necessity of making a dive. But he does not mind that, as it seems to be rather a pleasure to him than an inconvenience. There was no entrance towards the land, as we had often heard. Indeed, it would be bad policy in the beaver thus to make a door by which his enemy, the wolverene, could THE DESERT HOME. 1 25 easily get in and destroy him. The houses were all plastered over with mud, which by the flapping of the tails, and the constant paddling of the broad, web feet, had become as smooth as if the mud had been laid on with a trowel. We knew that they were also plastered inside, so as to render them warm and commodious in winter. " Some of these dwellings were not regular cones, but rather of an oval shape ; and sometimes two were placed, as it were, " under one roof," so as to steady them in the water, and save labor in the building. They were all pretty large — many of them rising the height of a man above the surface of the lake, and with broad tops, where the beavers delighted to sit and sun themselves. Each house was built by its own inhabitants, and each of them was inhabited by a single pair of beavers, — man and wife, — and in some in- stances, where there .were families, by four or five. Some of them, who had finished their houses earlier than the rest, had already commenced gathering their provisions for the winter. These consisted of the leaves and soft twigs of several species of trees, — such as willow, birch, and mul- berry, — and we saw collections of these floating in the water in front of several of the houses. " It was late in the season for beavers to be constructing a new dam. It is generally in spring when they perform that labor ; but it was evident that the present colony had just arrived — no doubt driven by trappers or Indians, or perhaps drought — from their last settlement, hundreds of miles away. We conjectured that they must have come up the stream that ran away to the eastward. *• They must have entered the valley some time before we discovered them, as it would have taken them several days to gnaw down the trees and accumulate the materials for the dam that had so suddenly started up to alarm us. Some of these trees were nearly a foot in diameter, while many of the stones — which they had rolled up or carried between their fore paws and throat — would have weighed nearly a score of pounds. 126 THE DESERT HOME. '* It was evident, then, they had arrived late in the season, and had worked hard to get ready for the winter. But Cudjo and I were determined, as soon as we should have finished our building operations, to lend them a hand in laying in their stock of provisions." THE DESERT HOME. l?}^ CHAPTER XIX. THE SAGACIOUS SQUIRREL. While we thus stood watching the movements of our beavers, and conversing about the habits of these interesting animals, an incident occurred which very much amused us, and proved that the beavers were not the only animals whom nature had gifted with extraordinary sagacity. " Near the middle of the lake stood a clump of tall trees — their trunks immersed for two or three feet under the water. These trees had been upon the bank of the rivulet previous to the formation of the dam ; and they were now surrounded on all sides, forming a kind of timber islet. It was evident, however, that they were destined to decay, as they were trees of the poplar species, and such as could not live with their roots covered with water. " Among the tops of these trees, we observed several small animals leaping nimbly about from branch to branch, and from one tree to the other. They were squirrels. They seemed to be laboring under some unusual excitement — as though they had been alarmed by the presence of an enemy. But there did not appear to be any such enemy near them. We noticed that they passed from tree to tree, running down the trunks of each, as far as the water would allow them ; and then, after looking outward, as if they intended to leap into the lake, they would suddenly turn back again, and gallop up into the high branches. There were in all about a dozen of them ; but the nimbleness with which they passed from place to place would have led one to believe that there were ten times that number ; and the twigs and leaves were constant- ly kept in motion, as though a large flock of birds were flut- tering through them. 128 THE DESERT HOME. " We had noticed these animals before, from time to time, dashing about in the same clump of trees ; but not thinking it anything unusual, had paid no attention to their move- ments. Now, however, it occurred to us that these little creatures — who never take to the water, unless compelled by- absolute necessity — had been suddenly cut off from their usual range by the forming of the dam, and were held where they were in a state of captivity. This was the more evident, as the trees had been stripped of many of their leaves, ar.d the bark was peeled from the more tender twigs and branciies. It was plain that the squirrels had been living for some time upon short allowance, and were anxious to get off from the place. " We now saw what was causing the unusual commotion among them at that particular time. Near the clump of treeSj but higher up the lake, a small log was floating in the water. It had somehow got into the stream above, and was being borne down by the current. It was at this moment nearing the little island of timber upon which were the squirrels, but it came on very slowly, as the current through the lake was hardly perceptible. It was this log that Avas causing such a flurry ; and the animals evidently intended, should it come near enough, to use it as a raft. " We seated ourselves to watch their maneuvers. Or, came the log, slowly and gradually ; but, instead of drifting directly for the timber, it was borne by tlie current in a direction that would carry it at least twenty yards from the trees. The squirrels had gathered upon that side ; and now, instead of running up and down the trunks, as before, they all stood upon the topmost branches, apparently watching the motions of the log. " ' Poor little creatures ! ' said Mary ; ' they Vv ill be unable to reach it, after all. What a pity ! ' " Just as she made this reflection, the log floated forward to the point where it was likely to be nearest to the clump in passing. A long branch stretched out in that direction ; but, as we calculated, the drift-wood was not likeh^ to pass nearer THE DESERT HOME. 1 29 than twenty yards. On this branch, however, the squirrels had now gathered, one behind the other, in a long string ; and we could see the foremost of them straining himself as if to spring. " ' Surely, they do not intend — surely, they cannot leap so far ! ' said Mary, as we all stood holding our breath, and watching them with intense curiosity. " ' Yes, Missa,' replied Cudjo ; ' de do intend. Gosh I de leap him, too. Dis nigga see 'em in Vaginny leap far furrer. Looky now ! Yonder de go — wap ! ' " As Cudjo spoke, the foremost squirrel launched out into the air, and the next moment pounced down upon the log. Then another followed, and another, and another, looking like so many birds flying through the air in a string, until the log was covered with the little creatures, and floated off with its cargo. " We supposed that they had all succeeded in getting off ; but in this we were mistaken. On looking up to the trees again, we saw that there was still one remaining. He ap- peared not to have got out upon the projecting branch in time ; for the weight of each of those that preceded him, coming down upon the log, had pushed it so far off that he became, no doubt, afraid to venture taking such a long leap. He was now running to and fro, apparently in a frantic state — both on account of his inability to escape, and his being thus left alone. For some time he kept springing from tree to tree, running down the trunks of all to the very edge of the w^ater, and stopping now and again to look hopelessly after his companions. " At length, we saw him descend a tree, whose bark was •exceedingly rough — in fact, crisped outward in great, broad pieces, or scales of a foot long, and several inches broad, that looked as though they were about to fall from the tree. For this reason, the tree is known among backwoodsmen as as the ' scaly bark.' Having descended this tree, nearly to the point where it rose above the water, the squirrel was seen to stop ; and for a moment we lost sight of him, where h^ 9 i^O THE DESERT HOME. was hidden behind one of the broad pieces of bark. We thouglU he had taken shelter there, intending to rest himself. Presently, however, we saw the bark moving backwards and forwards ; and from what we could see of the little animal, it was evident he was trying with all his might to detach it from the tree. Occasionally he ran out from the crevice, scratched the bark outside with teeth and claws, and then hurriedly disappeared again. " These strange maneuvers were kept up for several minutes, while we all remained upon the shore, watching with curiosity for the result. " At length, we saw the piece of bark move rapidly out- ward from the trunk, and hang down suspended only by a few fibers. These were soon gnawed by the teeth of the squirrel, and the broad scale fell into the water. It had hardly touched the surface, when the animal ran nimbly down, and leaped upon it. There w^as no current at the spot where the bark fell into the water ; and we w^ere in doubt whether it would carry him out from among the trees ; but we were soon convinced that our squirrel knew what he was about. As soon as he had fairly balanced himself upon his tiny craft, he hoisted his broad, bushy tail high up in the air, by way of a sail ; and the next moment, we saw that the breeze, catching upon it, wafted the little mariner slowly, but surely, outward. In a few seconds he had cleared the trees ; and the wind soon brought him within the influence of the cur- rent, which caused his bark to float downward after his com- panions. " These had well-nigh reached the breastwork of the dam ; and Harry wished very much to intercept them as they got to land. This wish, however, was overruled by his mother, who very justly declared that the little creatures deserved to escape, after having so well amused us by their ingenuit3^ " In a short time they all leaped ashore, and went scamper- ing off among the trees in search of a dinner — for by this time, no doubt, they were sufficiently hungry." 1'Hit JJtbLKT liOMJi. I3i CHAPTER XX. A HOUSE BUILT WITHOUT A NAIL. " Next day Cudjo and I went on with our house building. This day was appropriated to roofing- it. We first laid a row of the clapboards, projecting considerably over the eaves, so as to cast the water far out. These we secured near their lower ends by a long, straight pole, which traversed the roof horizontally from gable, to gable, and was lashed down by strips of wet elk hide. These w^e knew would tighten as they dried, and press the pole firmerth an ever against the boards. " We now laid a second row of the clapboards — with their lower ends riding the upper ones of the first row, and thus securing them. The second row was in its turn secured by a horizontal pole along its bottom, and at its top by the lower ends of the third row ; and so on up to the ridge. " The other side w-as shingled in a similar manner and the ridge itself was secured against leakage by allowing the clapboards on one side to project upwards, and shelter the ends of those on the other. This gave our cabin quite a chanticleer sort of comb along its top, and added to the picturesqueness of its appearance. "Our house was now built and roofed, and we could say ihat we had finished a house w^ithout ever having been inside of it — for as yet it had neither door nor windows. As the spaces between the logs were not yet ' chinked,^ it looked more like a gigantic cage than a house. " Our next day was devoted to making the door and window — that is, making the apertures where these were to be. We designed having only one window^ — in the back. •* The manner in which we opened our doorway was very •simple. Haying first carefully rested the logs — which wer^ 1^2 THE DESERT HOME. to be on each side of the door — upon firm wedges, we sawed away the parts between. Fortunately, we had a saw, cc this operation would have given us a good deal of trouble, Of course, we sawed away the proper size for a door ; and thus our doorway, by placing the lintels and posts, was con- plete. In a similar manner, we cut out our window in the back. We then went to work upon one of the soft tulip trees, and sawed out enough plank to make a door and win- dow, or, rather, a window shutter. These we cut to the proper size, and bound them together by slats, and treenails made out of the hard locust wood. We then hung them— both door and window shutter — with strips of elk skin. That night we carried in all our bedding and utensils, and slept under the roof of our new house. " It was still far from being finished ; and the next day we set about buildifig a fireplace and chimney. This, of course, was to be in one of the gable ends, and we chose that look- ing northward — for we had built our cabin fronting to the east. We wedged the logs precisely as we had done with the door, and then sawed away the space between, up to the height of an ordinary mantelpiece. Behind this, and alto- gether outside the house, we built a fireplace of stones and clay, — laying a hearth of the same materials, that completely covered the sleeper, — in order to prevent the latter from being burnt. On the top of this fireplace, the chimney was still to be erected ; and this was done by notching short, straight pieces of timber, and placing them across each other, exactly as we had laid the logs of the house itself. These pieces were put in shorter as we advanced to the tojD — so that the top ones might be lighter and more easily supported by those below ; and when the whole was finished, and the chinks filled with clay, our chimney tapered upward like the funnel of a little factory. The chimney and fireplace occu- pied us quite a day, and at night — although it w^as not very cold — we tried it with a log fire. It drew beautifully. ■' Next day we ' chinked ' the walls all round with chips, stones, and clay. We chinked gables and all until not a hoi« THE DESERT HOME. J 33 was to be seen that would let a mouse through. The floor still remained; but we intended to lay this with plank, and as we had no means of getting them except by our small saw. and they would require some time to dry, we resolved to at- tend, first, to several other things that were of more neces- sity, and finish the floor at our leisure. We carpeted the ground, which was quite dry, with green palmetto leaves, and that rendered it sufficiently comfortable for the present. We now formally entered our new house, which we had built from floor to chimney without a 7iail ! " Our next care was to furnish our horse with a house — in other words, to build a stable. Not that the w^eather ren- dered it at all necessary for Pompo — so our horse was called — to sleep under a roof ; but we were fearful lest some beast of prey, prowling about by night, should fancy him — as the carcajou had fancied our poor ox. " The stable was only a two days' job, as we built it out of logs already cut, and roofed it with the refuse of our clap- boards. Besides, we had no window nor chimney to make, and we did not chink the logs, as that was not necessary for a stable ki such a climate. Our horse would be w^arm enough without that ; and Cudjo had made him a trough, by hollowing out one of the tuHp trees. " From that time forth, Pompo was regularly called every evening at sunset, and shut up in his stable. We could not afford to let the carcajou make a meal of him, as in our log hauling and other labors he was of great service to us. " As soon as the stable was finished, we set to work and put up a table and six strong chairs. As I have said, w^e had no nails ; but, fortunately enough, I had both a chisel and auger, with several other useful tools. All of these I had brought in the great chest from Virginia, thinking they might be needed on our beautiful farm at Cairo. With the help of these, and Cudjo's great skill as a joiner, we were able to mortise and dovetail at our pleasure; and I had made a most excellent glue from the horn sof the elk and ox, along with their hoofs, We wanted a plane to polish our 134 THE DESERT HOME. table; but this was a want which we could easily endure. The lid of our table was made of plank sawed out of the catalpa tree ; and with some pieces of pumice I had picked up in the valley, and the constant scouring which it received at the hands of our housewife, it soon exhibited a surface as smooth as glass. From my finding this pumice stone, I con- cluded that our snow mountain had once been a volcano — perhaps like the peak of Teneriffe, standing alone in the water, when the great plain around us had been covered with a sea. " Cudjo and I did not forget the promise we had made to the beavers. We could see these little creatures, from day to day, very busy in drawing large branches to the water, and then floating them towards their houses. We knew that this was for their winter provisions. They had grown quite tame, as soon as they found we were not going to molest them, and frequently came out on our side of the lake. For this confidence on their part, we were determined to give them a treat they little dreamed of, — at least, of receiving from our hands. " I had noticed a clump of beautiful trees, which grew near one side of the glade, and not far from where we had built our house. Our attention had been called to them by the aromatic fragrance of their flowers, that blew around us all the time we were engaged in building. They were low, crooked trees, not over thirty feet in height, with oval leaves, six inches in length, and of a bluish-green color. The flowers were about the size of a rose, although more like a lily in appearance, and white as snow. Their perfume was extremely agreeable ; and Mary was in the habit of gathering a bunch of them daily, and placing them in a vessel of water. " I have already said that my wife understood botany ; and all botanists take a pleasurr " imparting their knowl- edge to others. She explained u ..s, therefore, the nature and properties of this sweet-scented tree. It was a species of magnolia — not that which is celebrated for its large flowers, i THE DESERT HOME. I35 but cnother kind. It was the magnolia glauca, sometimes caiiMl ' swamp sassafras/ but more generally known among hunters and trappers as the 'beaver tree.' It is so named by tn<;m, because the beaver is fonder of its roots than of any other food ; so fond of it, indeed, that it is often used as a bait to the traps by which these animals are caught. " Whether our beavers had already discovered their favorite tree in some other part of the valley, we did not know. Pro- bably they had ; but, at all events, Cudjo and I, by a very little labor, with our spade and ax, could save them a great deal ; and so we set about it. '' In a few hours, we had dug up several armfuls of the long, branching roots, and carried them down to the edge of the lake. We flung them into the water at a place where we knew the animals were in the habit of frequenting. In a short time, the aromatic roots were discovered, when a whole crowd of beavers were seen hurrying to the spot, and swim- ming urf again to their houses, each with a root or a whole bunch of them in his teeth. That was a grand festival for the be«.ver»." i^6 THE DESERT HOME, CHAPTER XXI. A BATTUE OF BLACKTAILS. " Of course, we could do nothing more for our beavers, at present. It was not our intention to trap any of them until they should become very numerous, and then we could ob- tain, annually, a large number of skins. Their tails, we knew, were very good to eat, — in fact, quite a delicacy, — but we could not afford to kill one of them merely for the sake of eating his tail ; and the other parts of the beaver's flesh are by no means palatable. Besides, we expected to find enough of game without that, as in every part, where the ground was soft, we saw the tracks of deer and other animals. " By the time we had fairly furnished our house, the flesh of the elk was beginning to run short, so that a grand hunt- ing excursion was determined upon. It was also to be an ex= ploring expedition, as, up to this time, we had not visited any part of the valley except that which lay immediately around our house. Frank, Harry, and myself were to form the party, while Cudjo was to remain by the house, and guard the female portion of our little community with his great spear. " Everything being ready, we started out with our three rifles, and took the route up the valley. As we passed along under high trees, we could see squirrels upon all sides of us ; some of them sitting on their hind quarters, like little monkeys ; some of them cracking nuts ; some of them bark- ing, like toy dogs ; while others, again, leaped about among the branches. Of course, as we advanced upon them, they sprang up the trees, or streaked off along the ground, so swiftly, that it seemed more like the flight of a bird than the running of a four-footed animal. On reaching a tree, they would gallop up it, generally keeping on the opposite side to THE DESERT HOME. I37 that on which we were, so that they might be secure. Sometimes, however, their curiosity would get the better of their fears, and, when they had cUmbed as high as the first or second forking of the branches, they would stop there, and gaze down upon us, all the while flourishing their light, bushy tails. We had excellent opportunities of getting a shot at them, and Harry, who was not so thoughtful as his brother, wished very much to try his skill ; but I forbade this, telling him that we could not afford to throw away our ammunition on such small game. Indeed, this was a thought that frequently entered my mind, and made me anxious about what we should do when our ammunition became ex- hausted. I cautioned both my boys, therefore, not to spend . a single shot on any animal smaller than elk or deer ; and they promised to obey me. " When we had gone about a mile up stream, we saw that the trees grew thinner as we advanced, and then opened into small glades, or spaces covered with herbage and flowers, usually called * openings.' This, surely, was the very place to find deer — much more likely than in the thick woods, where these animals are in more danger from the cougar and carcajou, that occasionally drop upon them from the trees. We had not gone far among these openings before we saw fresh tracks. They were more like the tracks of a goat than those of a deer, except that they were much larger. They were nearly as large as the tracks of the elk ; but we knew they were not these. " We advanced with great caution, keeping in the under- wood as much as possible. At length we saw that there was a large glade before us, much larger than any we had yet passed. We could tell this by the wide, clear spaces that appeared through the trees. We stole silently forward to the edge of this glade, and, to our great satisfaction, saw a herd of deer feeding quietly out upon the open ground. " ' Papa, they are not deer,' said Frank, as we first came in sight of them. * See ! who ever heard of deer with such ears as those ? J declare, they are as long as a mule's.' 138 THE DCSERT HOME. " * Yes,' added Harry ; ' and who ever heard of deer with black tails ? ' " I confess I was myself puzzled for a while. The ani- mals before us were certainly deer, as their long, slender legs, and great, branched antlers testified ; but they were ver)' different from the common kind, and different, too, from the elk. They were much larger than the red, or fallow deer, though not unlike them in shape and color. But that which was strange, as my boys had at once noticed, was the pe- culiarity of their ears and tails. The former were quite as long as the ears of a mule, and reached more than half way to the tops of their antlers. Their tails, again, were short and bushy, of a whitish color underneath, but on the top and above as black as the wing of a crow. There were also some black hairs upon their backs, and a black stripe along the neck and shoulders, while their noses, on each side, were of a pale, ashy color — all of which marks gave thema very dif- ferent appearance from the Virginian or English deer. " I have said that I was at first puzzled ; but I soon recol- lected having heard of these animals, although they are but little known to naturalists. They could be no other than the * black-tailed deer,' of the Rocky Mountains— the cervus macrotis described by the naturalist Say. This was evident, both from their size, the great length of their ears, but more than all from the color of their tails ; from which last circum- stance their common name has been given them by the hun- ters and trappers. We did not stop long to examine them. We were too anxious to have a shot at them ; but how were we to get near enough ? There were seven of them in the herd ; but they were quite out in the middle of the glade, and that was more than three hundred yards wide. The nearest of the seven was beyond the range even of my long rifle. What, then, was best to be done ? " After thinking about this for a moment, I saw that an open passage led out of the glade through the trees, on the other side. It was a wide avenue, leading into some othejr THE DESERl" HOME. 139 glade ; and I knew that the deer, when startled, would be most likely to make off in that direction. I determined, therefore, to creep round to the other side, and intercept them as they attempted to run through. Frank was to re- main where we first saw them ; while Harry would go half way along with me, and then take his stand behind a tree. We should thus enclose the deer in a sort of triangle, and some one of us would be sure of getting them within range before they could escape. " I had scarcely got to the edge of the opening, when I saw that the herd was browsing in towards Frank. They were every moment getting closer and closer to him, and I watched eagerly for the shot. I knew he would not fire until they were very near, as I had cautioned him not to do so, on account of the smallness of his rifle. Presently I saw the stream of smoke and fire issuing from the leaves ; then followed the sharp crack, and then the yelping of our dogs as they broke forward. At the same time, one of the deer was seen to spring upward and fall dead in its tracks. The others wheeled and ran, first one way and then another, in their confusion ; until, after doubling several times, they made towards the opening where I stood. In their flight, however, they had gone too close to Harry ; and, as they were running past his stand, the tiny crack of a rifle was heard among the bushes, and another of the blacktails rolled over on the plain. " It was now my turn ; and I prepared myself to make the best shot I could, or be beaten by my own boys. So, as they came up, I let drive at them, to my mortification, missing them every one — as I thought at the moment. It soon appeared, however, that I was mistaken in this. Castor and Pollux swept past upon the heels of the herd ; and before they had disappeared out of the long avenue, I saw the dogs spring upon the haunches of one that lagged behind, and drag him to the ground. I ran to their assist- ance, and, seizing the wounded animal by one of its antlers, soon put an end to it with my knife. I had wounded it in 140 THE DESERT HOME. the flank, and that had enabled the mastiffs to overtake h, which they could not have done otherwise, as its companions were at the time several hundred yards ahead of it. We all now came together, exulting in the fine fortune we had met with, for we had made a regular battue of it. We were glad that none of us had missed, and that we had succeeded in obtaining so much good meat ; for we were not slaughtering these beautiful creatures out of wanton sport, but from the necessity of procuring food. Each congratulated the others upon their good shooting, and said nothing of his own — al- though it was plain that all three of us were proud of our respective shots. To do justice, however, that of Harry was decidedly the best. He had knocked his one oi^er while on the run — no easy matter with these blacktails, who do not gallop regularly as other deer, but bound forward, lifting all their feet together, as you will sometimes see sheep do. This mode of running is one of the peculiarities of their species ; which, perhaps, more than any other thing, distin- guishes them from the common deer. '' After carefully wiping out, and then reloading, our rifles, vve rested them against the trees, and set to work to skin our game. " While engaged in this operation, Harry complained of thirst. Indeed, we were all thirsty as well, for the sun was hot, and we had walked a good distance. We could not be far from the stream, although we were not sure of its direc- tion ; and Harry, taking the tin cup which we had brought with us, set out to find it, promising soon to return with water for our relief. He had only left us but a short while, when we heard him calling back through the trees ; and, thinking that some animal might have attacked him, Frank and I seized our rifles, and ran after him. On coming up, we were surprised to find him standing quietly on the bank of a crystal rivulet, holding the cup full of water in his hand. " ' Why did you bring us away ? ' asked Frank. " * Taste this,' replied he ; ' here's a pickle 1 ' THE DESERT HOME. I4I " * O papa ! ' cried Frank, after applying the cup to his lips ; 'salt as brine, I declare.' " ' Salt you may say,' continued his brother ; * the sea it* self is not so salt. Taste it, papa.' " I did as I was desired ; and, to my delight, I found that the water of the rivulet was, what Frank had alleged, * salt as brine.' I say to my delight, for I was greatly pleased at this discovery. The boys could not understand this, as they, being now very thirsty, would much rather have met with a cup of fresh, than a whole river of salt water. I soon pointed out to them the importance of what we had found. We had been in great need of salt, — for we had not a single grain of it, — and had felt the want ever since our arrival in the valley. Only they who cannot get salt can understand what a ter- rible thing it is to be without this homely but necessa^ article. " The flesh of our elk, which for many days past we lived upon, had proved quite insipid for want of salt, and we had not been able to make a soup that was in any way palatable. Now, however, we should have as much as we desired ; and I explained to my companions, that, by simply boiling this water in our kettles, we should obtain the very thing we so much stood in need of. This, as they saw, would be great news for mamma on our return ; and the prospect of making her happy, by imparting the information, rendered all of us impatient to get back. We did not stay a moment by the salt stream, whicTi was a very small rivulet of blue water, and evidently running from some spring that bubbled in the valley. Not far below us, we saw where it ran into the main stre^.m of fresh water ; and, keeping down to the latter, we quenched our thirst, and then went back to our v.^ork. " We made all the haste we could, and our three black- tails were soon skinned, quartered, and hung upon the trees, so as to be out of reach of the wolves while we should be gone. We now shouldered our rifles, and hurried back to the house." 143 THE DESERT HOxME, CHAPTER XXII. CATCHING A TARTAR. " Of course, Mary was much pleased on hearing of the discovery we had made. One of the first requisites of a housewife is a supply of good salt ; and that we promised to obtain for her on the morrow. It was our intention to carry the kettle up to the salt stream, and there manufacture the article, as that would be more convenient than to bring the water dov/n to the house. This piece of work we laid out for the next day. Meanwhile, as it was not yet near night, we caught Pompo, and set off again to bring our blacktails home. This required us to make several journeys, as we had no cart by which we could bring the deer all at once, and each of them was as large as a good-sized heifer. We succeeded, however, in getting all to the house before sunset, except the skins, which we left hanging on the trees for another day. While the boys and I had been engaged at this work, Cudjo was not idle. It was our intention to cure the venison — not by ' jerking,' as we had done the elk meat, but with the salt, which we were about to make on the morrow. For this purpose we should require a large vessel, capable of holding the pickle. We had nothing of the sort ; and, of course, we were puzzled for a while as to how we should manage without it. It was early in the day — before we had brought in the venison — that this difficulty occurred to us. " * Why could we not leave it in the stream itself ? ' asked Harry. ' The water is very clear, and there are clean, hard rocks on the bottom. Why could we not sink the quarters of venison on these rocks, and make them fast, by placing great stones on them ? * THE DESERT HOME. 1 43 " ' Ha, ha ! ' laughed Frank ; ' trust the wolves for finding them there. These gentry would soon empty your famous pickle barrel.' " ' Look hyar, Massa,' said Cudjo ; * this nigga sees no diffi- culty 'bout dat. He soon make a place for de meat.' " ' How, Cudjo ? ' inquired Mary. " ' Why, Missa, same's dey make de ole dug-out in Vaginny — by hollering out de log.' " This was the very thing itself. A log hollowed out after the manner of a canoe, or ' dug-out,' — as Cudjo was used to designate this species of craft, — would answer the purpose admirably ; and Cudjo, having chosen a line large section of a tulip tree, went to work. By the time we had got our last load to the house, he had made a cavity in the tree that was large enough to contain the three blacktails at once. A valuable idea was also suggested by this operation. We remembered the wooden trays, dishes, and other utensils — made in this way — that we had often seen among the negroes on our plantation. These, however rude, we saw answered the purpose well; we might hereafter supply ourselves in a similar manner. " After breakfast, the next morning, we started for the salt stream. We all went together ; Mary riding the horse, while Cudjo and I carried the children in our arms. Frank and Harry took the kettle upon a long pole between them, each, at the same time, having his rifle in the other hand. The dogs, of course, followed us, and our house was left to take care of itself. W^e had hung the venison upon high branches, lest the wolves might take a fancy to it in our absence. " Mary was charmed with the scenery as we passed along, particularly whore the woods began to open, as they did, to- wards the upper end of the valley. She noticed the various kind of trees as we advanced, and at one time uttered a joy- ous exclamation, as though she had seen something that nleased her more than common. " We all questioned her as to what it was ; but she would odtisfy us no further than by telling us that she had made a 144 THE DESERT HOME. discovery of nearly as much importance as our salt river. We were all curious to know what it was ; but my wife checked our curiosity by observing, very justly, that, as we were happy enough at that time she might make us too happy ; and she should therefore reserve her secret until we got back to our house in the evening. * We may then be weary and out of spirits,' added she ; ' but I have something to tell that will make you all merry again.' " I could not help admiring the good sense and patience of my wife, thus reserving pleasant news for a time when they might be more available in producing a happy effect. " As we were all marching through a small glade, talking and laughing in high glee, an animal leaped out of some bushes before us, and ran slowly off to one side. It was a beautiful little creature, about the size of a cat, with dark, glossy hair, spotted about the head and neck, and with clear, white stripes running along its back. It did not go far be- fore it stopped, and, throwing up its long, bushy tail, looked back at us with the playful and innocent air of a kitten. I knew very well what the pretty creature was. Not so the impetuous Harry, who, thinking that here was the very ' pet ' he wanted, dropped his pole, kettle, and all, and made after it. " I cried out to him to desist, but the boy, either not hearing me, — on account of the yelping of the dogs, who had also started in pursuit, — or being too intent on making a capture, ran on after the animal. But the chase did not last long. The little creature, apparently not the least frightened at the terrible enemies that were so close upon its heels, stood near the edge of the glade, as if to await its pursuers. Harry, as he ran, was all the while eagerly scolding off the dogs. He wanted to take the little beauty alive, and he feared that the mastiffs would kill it before he could come up. It looked, too, as if they would; for they were now almost on top of it, yelping with open mouths. Just at this moment, the stranire animal was seen to elevate its hind THE DESERT HOME. 1 45 quarters, throw its long tail forward over its back, and give a sudden jerk of its body, as if by way of an insult to its pursuers. But it meant something more than a mere insult. It mean to punish them for their audacity. The effect of that singular movement was at once apparent. The dogs suddenly wheeled in their tracks. Their victorious yelping was changed to a fearful howling ; and both of them ran back, thrusting their noses into the grass, and capering over the ground as if they had either been stung by wasps or had suddenly fallen into convulsions. Harry stopped for a moment wondering at this. He did not stop long. The next moment we saw him throw his hands up to his face, and, uttering a cry that betokened pain and terror, come running back as quick as he had gone off. " The polecat (for it was a polecat — the mephitis chinga, or American skunk), for an instant after he had discharged the fetid shower, stood looking over his shoulder in such a way, that we could almost fancy he was laughing. Then jerking his tail from side to side in a frolicsome manner, he made a bound into the bramble, and disappeared. " Whether the skunk laughed or not, we did — especially Frank, who took this method of retaliating upon his brother for dropping the great kettle against his shins. But we had no time to lose in talk, until we could get some distance from the glade, which was now filled with the suffocating smell. So, calling upon Harry to lay hold of his burden, we hurried as quickly as possible from the spot. The dogs, however, brought the effluvia along with them ; and it re- quired unusual scolding and pelting of stones to keep them at a respectful distance. Harry had come off better than I expected, as the animal had directed its battery against the dogs, and he had only received enough of the discharge to punish him for his rashness and disobedience. " As we continued our journey, I took the opportunity to instruct my children in the habits of this singular animal. " ' You have seen,' said I, addressing myself to Frank and Harry. ' that it is about the size of a cat, although broader 146 THE DESERT HOME. and fleshier in the body, lower upon the limbs, and with a sharper and more elongated' snout. " ' You have seen that it is a spotted and striped animal — and in this respect it also resembles the cat, as these spots and stripes are different upon different individuals of the same species — so much so, that no two skunks are exactly alike. " ' You have witnessed the efficient means with which nature has armed it aganist its enemies ; and I shall now tell you all the rest that is known of its habits. " ' It is a caf-nh'Of'Ous creature — destroying and eating many other beings that have life as well as itself. For this purpose.it is furnished with strong, sharp claws, and three kinds of teeth, one of which — termed canine, or tearing teeth — is a certain symptom of its being a carnivorous, or flesh-eating animal. You must know, that the shape of the teeth will always tell this. Those animals that feed upon vegetables, such as horses, sheep, rabbits, and deer, have none of these canine teeth. Well, the skunk has four of them, — two in each jaw, and very sharp ones, too, — and with these he kills and eats (whenever he is lucky enough to get hold of them ) rabbits, poultry, birds, mice, frogs, and lizards. He is very fond of eggs, too, and frequently robs the farmyard, and the nests of the ruffed grouse and wild turkey — killing these birds whenever he can catch them. The killing, however, is not all upon his side — as the wolf, the horned owl, the wolverene, and the farmer, in their turn, kill him whenever they can catch him. He is not by any means a fast runner, and his safety does not lie in his swift- ness of foot. His defensive armor is found in the fetid ef- fluvia, which, by a muscular exertion, he is capable of eject- ing upon his pursuer. This he carries in two small sars that lie under his tail, with ducts leading outward about as large as the tube of a goosequill. The effluvia itself is caused by a thin fluid, which cannot be seen in daylight, but at night appears, when first ejected, like a double stream of phosphoric light. He can throw it to the distance of live THE DESERT HOME. I47 yards, and knowing this, he always waits till the pursuer has fairly got within range — as the one we have just seen did with Castor and Pollux. The discharge of this fluid rarely fails to drive off such enemies as wolves, dogs, and men. Sometimes it occasions sickness and vomiting ; and it is said that there are Indians w^ho have lost their eyesight from in- flammation caused by it. Dogs are frequently swollen and inflamed for weeks, after having received the discharge of a skunk. In addition to the disagreeableness of this odor, there is no getting rid of it after the fluid has once been sprinkled over your garments. Clothes may be washed and buried for months, but it will still cling to them ; and where a skunk has been killed, the spot will retain the scent for many months after, even though deep snow may have lain upon it. " ' It is only when attacked or angered that the animal sends forth his offensive fluid ; and when killed suddenly, or before he has time to ' fire it off,' nothing of the kind is perceived upon his carcass. " ' The skunk is a burrowing animal, and in cold countries he enters his hole, and sleeps in a half torpid state through- out the winter. In warm climates, however, he continues to prowl about all the year round, generally at night — as, like most predatory creatures, the night is his day. In his burrow, which runs several yards underground, he lives, in company with ten or a dozen of his companions. The female has a nest in one part, made of grass and leaves, where she brings forth her young — having from five to nine kittens at a birth. " ' Strange as it may appear, the Indians, as well as many white men, — hunters and others, — eat the flesh of this animal, and pronounce it both savory and agreeable — equal, as they allege, to the finest roast pig. So much for the skunk and his habits. Now to the niaking of our salt* " i4^ THE DESERT HOME. CHAPTER XXIII. THE SALT SPRING. " We had now arrived on the banks of the salt creek ; but as we saw the diff close by, and knew that we must be near the spring which supphed this httle rivulet, we resolved to travel on to the fountain-head. A few hundred yards farther brought us to the spring, and it was well worth travel- ing a little farther to see. " Near the bottom of the cliff were several round objects, looking like half globes, or bowls turned upon their mouths. They were of a whitish color, resembling white quartz rock; and of all sizes, from that of a large baking oven to the size of a wooden dish. In the top of each there was a round cavity, — like a little crater of a volcano, — and in this the blue water bubbled and boiled as though a hot fire was in the ground underneath them. There were in all nearly twenty of these, but many of them were without the crater- like cavit)^ in the top ; and through the latter, of course, no water escaped to the creek. They were old ones, that hart ceased to run. " It was evident that these oven-looking mounds had been formed by the water itself, which had been depositing the sediment that formed them for many, many years. Arouna some of them there grew beautiful plants and shrubs, whose leaves and flowers hung over, trailing in the water ; and from the cliff above long vines crept out, covered with gay, scarlet blossoms. Bushes of wild currants grew all around, and the fragrance of their leaves scented the air. K was altogether a sweet, cool spot, and filled us with feelings of enjoyment. " After we had satisfied our curiosity in examining these pbjectS; we prepared to make our salt. Frank and Harry THE DESERT HOME. I49 collected armfuls of dry wood for the fire, while Cue' jo erected a crane in his usual fashion. Upon this the kctt'e was suspended, and filled with crystal water out of one of the natural basius. The fire soon blazed under it, and ve had nothing more to do than wait until the evaporation should be completed by boiling. " For this purpose, we chose a spot where the ground vr.s carpeted with a soft, green turf, and upon it we all sat down to wait the result. " I need not say that in this we had a deep interest, amour t- ing, in truth, to anxiety. It might not be salt, after all. The water tasted salt — that is true. But so, too, would water impregnated by the muriate of magnesia or the sulphate of soda. When evaporated, we might find one or other of these substances. " * What is the muriate of magnesia, papa ? ' inquired Frank. " * Perhaps you w^ould know it better by the name of Epsom salts ! ' rejoined his mother, w^th a knowing smile. " * Bah ! ' returned he, with a grin upon his face ; '1 hope it won't turn out that. But what sort of thing then, is the sulphate of soda ? ' " ' That is the scientific name for Glauber's salts.' " * Worse still 1 I don't think we stand in need of either. Do we, Harry ? * " * Not a bit of it,' responded Harry, also grinning at the thought of these well-known specifics. * I would rather it should turn out saltpetre and sulpher. Then we could make lots of gunpowder.' " Harry was a great shot, as we have seen ; and one of his fears was, that our stock of powder should run out. " ' Do not wish for that, Harr}',' said his mother. ' Gun- powder we can do very well without. Let us hope for some- thing more necessary to us at present.' " With such like conversation we passed the time while we watched the steaming kettle with feelings of anxious ex- pectation. 150 THE DESERT HOME. " For myself, I had some reliance upon a fact which I had observed years before, and had regarded as singular. Tt was this : I beheve the Creator has so disposed it, that salt so essential to animal life, should be found in all parts oi the globe, either in rocks, springs, standing lakes, incrusta- tions, or in the ocean itself. No part of the earth of great extent is without it ; and I had noticed in the interior terri- tories of the American continent — where the sea was too distant to be visited by animals — that nature had provided numerous salt springs, or ' licks,' as they are termed in the language of the country. These springs from time imme- morial have been the meeting-place of the wild creatures of the forest and prairie, who resort thither to drink their waters, or lick the saline soil through which these waters run. Hence their common name. Here, then, was a valley, whose four- footed inhabitants never roamed beyond its borders. I believed that nature had provided for their wants and crav- ings by giving them everything necessary to their existence, and among the other necessities that one which we were now in search of ourselves — salt. In other words, but that this was a salt spring, or there existed some other such in the valley, these creatures would not have been found within it. I took the opportunity to point out this fact to my boys, as well as to show them what I myself clearly recognized in it — the hand of the Creator. It rendered them more con- fident that, when we had evaporated our water, we should get salt for our pains. " * Papa,' inquired Frank, who was a great naturalist, * I should like to know what makes this little rivulet run salt ,' water.' " * No doubt,' I replied, * the water you see gushing forth has just been passing among vast beds of rock salt, and I:2S become impregnated with it.' " ' Rock salt 1 and is the salt we use found in rocks ? ' " ' Not all of it, though great quantities are. There are beds of rock salt found in many countries — in England, and the East Indies, in Russia, and Hungary, and Spain ; and nil-: i)K.^l•:kl• ii(.).Mii. 151 it has also been discovered in vast quantities in this very desert we are now in. These beds of rock salt, when worked to supply salt to people, are called salt mines. The most celebrated are in Poland, near the city of Cracow. These have been worked for seven hundred years, and there is enough left in them yet to supply all the world for many centuries to come. These mines are said to be very beauti- ful, lit up, as they are, by numerous lamps. The rock has been excavated by the miners into all sorts of shapes ; houses, chapels, columns, obelisks, and many other ornamental forms of buildings have been made ; and these, when illuminated by lamps and torches, become as splendid and brilliant as the palaces of Aladdin.' " ' O, I should like so much to see them 1 ' cried Harry, in a transport. " ' But, papa,' inquired Frank, who always sought after in- formation on such subjects, ' I never saw any of this rock salt. How is it that it comes to us always crushed, or in great bricks, as if it had been baked ? Do they break it fine before it is sent to market from the mines ? ' " * In some of these mines, nothing more is required than to crush the rock ; in others, however, the rock is not pure salt, but mixed with other substances, as oxide of iron and clay. In these cases, it is first dissolved in water, to separate it from such impurities, and then evaporated back again into salt, precisely as we are doing now.' " What color is the salt rock, papa ? ' " ' When pure, it is white ; but it assumes various colors, according to what substance may be found mixed with it. It is often yellow, and flesh colored, and blue.' " * How pretty it must be 1 ' exclaimed Harry ; ' like pre- cious stones, I declare.' " ' Yes, it is a precious stone, rejoined his brother, * more precious, I take it, than all the diamonds in the world. Is it not, papa ? ' " ' You are quite right,' I replied. ' Salt rock is more valuable to the human race than diamonds, though they, too, 152 THE DESERT HOME. have an absolute value, besides tlieir value as an ornament. There are some important uses in arts and manufactures to which they can be applied." " * But, papa,' again inquired Frank, determined to know everything he could about the article of salt, * I have heard that salt is made of sea water. Is it so ? ' " * Vast quantities of it.' " * How is it made ? ' " * There are three ways of obtaining it. First, in warm climates, where the sun is strong, the sea water is collected into shallow pools, and there left until it is evaporated by the sun's rays. The ground where these pools are made must neither be muddy nor porous, else the salt would get mixed with the mud and sand. Of course, the people who manufacture it in this way take care to choose firm, hard ground for the bottom of their pools. There are sluices at- tached to these pools, by which any water that will not evaporate is drawn off. - Salt is made in this manner in many southern countries — in Spain and Portugal, in France, and other countries that lie around the Mediterranean ; also in India, China, Siam, and the Island of Ceylon. *' ' The second way of making salt from sea water is pre- cisely the same as that I have described — except that, in- stead of these artificial pools, the evaporation takes place in broad tracts of country over which the sea has spread in time of high spring tides. When the sea falls again to its proper level, it leaves behind it a quantity of water in these tracts, which is evaporated by the sun, and they then be- come fields of pure salt. Nothing remains to be done but to scrape this salt into heaps and cart it off ; and at the next spring tide a fresh influx of sea water produces a new crop of salt, and so on. This kind is better than that which is made in the artificial pools — though neither of them is equal to the salt of the mines. They are both known in commerce under the name of ' bay salt,' to distinguish them from the ♦rock salt.' Great natural beds of the last kind described are found in the Cape de Verde Islands, also in Turk's THE DESERT HOME. 153 Islan'^. and St. Martin's, in the West Indies, and on Kangaroo Island, near the coast of Australia. " ' There is still a third plan of making salt out of the sea ^'that is, by boiling the water, as we are doing; but this makes the worst of all salt, and it is far more expensive for any people to manufacture salt in this way than to buy it from other countries. Indeed, this last plan would never be adopted, were it not that some foolish governments force their people to pay a heavy duty for importing salt into their country, which makes it still cheaper for them, costly as it is, to manufacture the article at home.' " What makes the sea salt, papa ? ' " That is one of the phenomena about which naturalists have a difference of opinion. Some of them say there are vast beds of salt at the bottom which keep the water always impregnated. I think this notion is very childish ; and they who hold it offer only childish arguments to support it. Others assert that the salt water of the ocean is a primitive fluid — that it was always as it now is ; which, you will per- ceive, is giving no reason at all, more than saying, ' It is salt, because it always was salt. This is an equally irrational theory. Others, again, believe that the saltness of the ocean is caused by the flowing into it of salt rivers. These last, I believe, hold the true opinion ; but, unfortunately, they have failed, as far as I know, to answer the objections which have been raised against it. Your papa has reflected a good deal upon this subject, and believes that he can ex- plain away all the difficulties that oppose this last theory. Probably he may take an early opportunity of doing so ; but it will require more time than he can spare at present.' " ' Is the sea equally salt at all places ? ' inquired the phi- losopher Frank, after a short pause, during which he had been busily reflecting on what had been just said.' '' ' No ; it is more so at the equator than in the colder re- gions around the poles. It is less salt in gulfs and inland seas than in the open ocean. This, I believe, I can also explain j because it would support the theory regarding the 154 THE DESERT HOME. rivers of which we have just spoken. The difference of saltness in different parts ot the sea is, however, very trifling.* " * How much salt is there in the sea water ? " " * Three and, half per cent, nearly. That is, if you boil down one hundred pounds of sea water, it will yield you about three pounds and a half of salt.' " ' But are there not many lakes and brine springs that contain a far greater proportion than that ■ " " ' Many. There is a large lake lying in this very desert, to the north-west of where we are, called the ' Great Salt Lake.' The waters of that lake are more than one third pure salt. There are many springs and rivers that contain a greater proportion than the ocean itself. It is to be hoped that our own little creek here will yield better than it. But come, let us see how the kettle boils. We had almost forgotten it.' " We approached our kettle, and lifted the lid. To our great joy, a scum was floating on the -top, very much like crystals of ice forming upon melted snow. Some of it was skimmed off and applied to our lips. Joy ! It was salt, — the pure juuriate of soda^ — equal to the best ever shipped from Turk's Island." THE DESERT HOMfi. S55 CHAPTER XXIV. THE BATTLE OF THE SNAKES, " I NEED not tell you that the announcement was received with joyful acclamations, and that one and all satisfiea them- selves by tasting of the salt. It had crystallized into small cubes, as salt always does ; and it was as white as snow, which proved its great purity. We had put into the kettle — which was a large camp kettle — about four gallons of water, and when it was fully evaporated, we obtained not less than ten pints of salt, showing that the water of our spring was much more saline than the sea itself. " When our first kettleful was disposed of, we refilled it with water, and again hung it over the fire. We also hung another vessel beside the kettle ; and that was our frying pan, in which several fine steaks of venison, seasoned with the new salt, were cooked for our dinners. We were not unmindful of the thank" which we owed to God for giving us this munificent supply v._ "»-ticle so much needed by us ; and as soon as dinner was over, my wife took occasion to bring this subject pointedly forward, and we sat for some time conversing upon it. " All at once, we were interrupted by a series of curious incidents which took place within sight of our fire. Our attention was first drawn to them by hearing loud screams at a short distance from us, which we all recognized as the voice of the blue jay. There is nothing unusual in hearing this bird screaming half the day — for it is, perhaps, more easily e'xcited than any other feathered creature. But, if you have ever noticed, it utters a very peculiar cry when there is something unusual in the wind. When some much-dreaded enemy is at hand, its note becomes extremely shrill and di» 156 THE DESERT HOME. agreeable. So it was then ; and for that reason it drew my attention, as well as that of my companions. " We looked towards the spot whence the cry came. We could see the branches of a low tree in motion, and the beautiful sky-blue wings of the bird closing and spreading again as it fluttered through them. We could see nothing else upon the tree, — that is, no enemy of the binl, — nor on any of the trees near it. On lowering our eyes to the ground, however, we perceived at once what had set the jay to scold- ing. Slowly drawing itself along the earth, gliding through the grass and over the dry leaves, without causing even the driest of them to rustle, went a hideous reptile — a snake, Its yellowish body, dappled with black blotches, glittered as the sun glanced from its lubricated scales, while it rose and fell in wavy undulations as it moved. It moved slowly — by vertical sinuosities, almost in a direct line, with its head slightly raised from the grass. At intervals, it stopped, elevated its neck, lowered its flat, coffin-shaped head, like a feeding swan, gently oscillated it in a horizontal direction, touched the crisp leaves with its red tongue, — as though it w^i?, feeling for a trails — and then moved on again. In its frequent pauses, as it lay stretched along the ground, it ap- peared cylindrical, as long as the tallest man, and, as thick as a man's fore arm. Its tail ended in a horny appendage, about a foot in length, and resembling a string of large, yellow- ish, ill-shaped beads, or a portion of its own vertebrae stripped of the flesh. This peculiarity told us its species. We saw before us the dreaded rattlesnake — the crctalus horridiis. " My companions were eager to rush forward and at once attack the monster. I restrained them, dogs and all. I had heard — who has not ? — of the power of fascination which these reptiles possess. I knew not whether to believe or disbelieve it. Here was an opportunity to test its truth. V/ould 't charm the bird ? We should see. One and all of us rem ined motionless and silent. The snake crawled on. " 7 \ bird followed overhead, pitching itself from branch THE DESERT HOME. I57 to branch, from tree to tree, screaming with open throat. Neither of them noticed us, as we were partially concealed where we sat. " On reaching the foot of a tall magnolia, the rattlesnake — after going once round the tree, and apparently smelling T.he bark — slowly and carefully wound itself into a spiral coil, close, in to the trunk. Its body now presented the app^rdr- ance of a speckled and glittering cable, as they are usu.xily coiled on the deck of a ship. The- tail, with its horny ap- pendage, protruded beneath, and the flat head peeped over above, resting upon the uppermost ring of the body. The nictitating membrane was drawn over its eyes. It appe^ired to sleep. This I thought strange, as I had heard thav the fascinating power of these creatures lay in the eyes. It soon became evident, however, that the bird was not it^^ ob- ject ; for the latter, on seeing that the snake lay still, ct^ased its chattering, and flew off into the woods. " Believing that the interest of the scene was now Over, I was about raising my rifle to take aim at the snake, w^xcn a motion on its part convinced me that it was not asleej^, but watching. Watching for what ? A squirrel, perhaps, t-jr this is its favorite prey. I looked up into the tree. Ic had all the appearance of being what is termed a * squirrel tree ' — that is, a tree in which squirrels have their hole and nest. Ha 1 just as I expected : there was a hole in the trunk, high up ; and around its orifice the bark w^as slightly discolored, evidently by the paws of the squirrels passing in and out. Moreover, on looking to the ground again, I perceived that a little beaten path, like a rat track, led off through the grass, A ridge-like protuberance that projected from the foot of the tree — marking the direction of one of its great roots — ran right into this path ; and, from the discoloration of the bark above it, it was evident that the squirrels usually climbed up or descended along this ridge. The rattlesnake was coiled be- side it — so close, that no animal could pass in that way with- out coming within his reach. I felt certain, then, that he was waiting for the descent of the squirrel ; and, desirous to see 158 THE DESERT HOME. what should happen, I muttered some words of cauti&j^ U my companions, who remained silent as before. " We sat watching the hole, expecting every moment to see the squirrel come forth. At length, the little rat-shaped head peeped cautiously out ; but in this position the animal remained, and did not seem inclined to trust itself beyond the mouth of its den. It was evidently observing us, — which it could easily do, from its elevated position, — and was not intending to come down. " We were about giving up all hopes of witnessing a ' scene,' when our attention was drawn to a rustling among the dead leaves in the woods beyond. We looked in that direction. A squirrel was running towards the tree. It was running at full speed,7-now along the fallen logs, now through the grass and dry leaves, — apparently pursued. It was pursued ; for almost at the same instant its pursuer came in sight — an animal with a long, slender body, twice the length of the squirrel itself, and of a bright, yellow color. It was the pine weasel. There were not twenty feet between them as they ran, and both were doing their best. " I cast a glance at the rattlesnake. He knew what was coming. His jaws were extended, — the lower one drawn back until it touched his throat, — his poisoned fangs were naked and visible ; his tongue was protruded forward ; his eyes glanced like diamonds ; and his whole body rose and fell, as with a quick respiration. He seemed to have dilated himself to twice his natural size. '' The squirrel, looking only behind, ran for the tree, and, like a streak of light, passed along the ridge and upward. We saw the snake launch out his head, as the other passed him; but so quick had been the action, that it did not seem that he had even touched it. " ' Good ! ' thought we, as we saw the quirrel sweep up the trunk, and fancied that it was safe. Before it had reached the first fork, however, we observed that it climbed more slowly — then faltered — then stopped altogether. Its hind feet slipped from the bark ; its body oscillated a moment, THE DESERT HOME. I59 hanging by the fore claws, and then dropped heavily back into the very jaws of the serpent ! " The weasel, on seeing the snake, had suddenly stopped a few feet from it, and now ran around, doubling its /ong, worm-like body, and occasionally standing erect — alk the while spitting and snarling, like an ai>gry cat. It was evi- dently furious at being robbed of its prey ; and we thought for a while it was gouig to give battle to the snake. The latter had recoiled himself on seeing this enemy, and lay with open jaws, awaiting the attack. The body of the squirrel, now quite dead, v^as close up to his coil, so that the other could not snatch it without coming within reach of his dangerous fangs. " On seeing this, and evidently afraid to encounter such a terrible antagonist, the weasel, after a while ceased its hostile demonstrations ; and, turning to one side, bounded off into the woods. " The reptile now leisurely uncoiled the upper half of his body, and, stretching out his neck towards the squirrel, pre- pared to swallow it. He drew the latter out to its full length along the ground, so that its head lay towards him. This he purposed to swallow first, — in order to take the animal * with the grain,* — and he now commenced lubricating it with the saliva that ran from his forked tongue. " While we sat watching this curious operation, our atten- tion was attracted to a movement in the leaves above the spot where the snake lay. Directly over him, at a height of twenty or more feet, a huge //a/ia, of the trumpet species, stretched across from tree to tree. It was full as thick as a man's arm, and covered with green leaves, and large, crim- son, cuneiform blossoms, such as belonged to itself. There were other blossoms mingling with these, for still other para- sites — smaller ones — were twined around it, and we could distinguish the beautiful, starlike flowers of the cypress vine. Among these, an object was in motion, — a living object, a body, — the -body of a great snake, nearly as thick as». liit liana itself. l60 THE DESERT HOME. "Another rattlesnake! No ; the rattlesnake is not- a tree climber — it could not be that. Besides, the color of the one upon the vine was entirely different. It was of a uniform black all over — smooth and glittering. It was the black snake, then — the * constrictor ' of the north. " When we first noticed it, it was wound upon the liana in spiral rings, like the worm of a gigantic screw. We saw that it was slowly gliding downward — for the vine tended diagonally from tree to tree, and its lowest end impinged upon the trunk of the magnolia, about twenty feet from the ground. " On reaching this point, the snake gradually drew its rings closer together, until they appeared to touch each other, lap- ping the liana. It then commenced unwinding itself by the head, which was slowly circled backward around the vine — still, however, creasing closely along it. After a sufficient number of evolutions, the rings had completely disappeared, — - with the exception of one or two near the tail, — and the reptile lay doubled along the liana. These maneuvers it had ex- ecuted silently and with great caution ; and it now seemed to pause, and survey what was going on below. " During all this while, the rattlesnake had been busily engaged with the squirrel, and thought of nothing else. A{ter licking the latter to his satisfaction, he extended his purple jaws, drew in the head of his victim, and, stretching his long body to its full extent, proceeded to swallow it, tail and all. In a few seconds, the head and shoulders of the squirrel had disappeared. '' But the glutton was suddenly interrupted in his meal, for, at this moment, we observed the black snake gradually lower himself from the liana, until nothing remained upon tlie tree but a single loop of his prehensile tail ; and his long body, stretching downwards, hung directly over the other. " * Surely,' thought we, ' he is not going to encounter the rattlesnake — the most terrible of all reptiles.' But the con- strictor understood o?ie chapter of herpetology better than we — for the next moment we saw him drop to the ground ; THE TJttSERT HOME, l6l and, almost as quick as thought, he appeared, lapped in sable folds around the speckled body of the ' crotalus 1 ' " It was a singular sight to see these two creatures writh- ing and wriggling over the grass ; and it was some time be- fore we could tell how they battled with each other. There was no great difference between them, in point of size. The black snake was longer, — by a foot or so, — but much more slender in the body than his antagonist. He possessed, however, an advantage that soon made itself apparent — his activity, which was ten times that of the rattlesnake. We saw that he could easily evolve or wind himself at pleasure around the body of the latter, each time compressing him with those muscular powers which have entitled him to his name — 'constrictor.' At each fresh embrace, the body of the * crotalus ' appeared to writhe and contract under the crushing influence of his sable adversary. " The rattlesnake had but one weapon which he could have employed with effect — his fangs. These were already locked in the body of the squirrel, and he could not use them upon his adversary. He could not get rid of that hairy morsel, that, like a barbed arrow, now stuck in his throat. We could see that the squirrel still remained there, for, as the two reptiles struggled over the grass, its bushy tail was seen waving in the midst of their tortuous contest. " At length the battle began to flag. The motions of both combatants waxed slower and slower. We could now see how they fought. We could see — strange it appeared to us — that, instead of battling head to head, — face to face, — the fangs of the ' constrictor ' were buried in the rattles of the ' crotalus ! " Stranger still, the tail of the former rose and fell with a muscular and powerful impetus, whipping the latter to death ! " The contest was soon ended. Tlije rattlesnake lay stretched at full length, evidently dead ; while the black con- strictor still continued to hug the speckled body, as though it was an object to be loved. This lasted for a moment or so ; and then, slowly unwinding itself, the conqueror turned II Jl63 THE DESERT HOME. round, crept tbfoug^l the grass, and proceeded to appro- priate the prey. The ' scene ' was over, and we all leaped to our feet to enatt \\\*2: finale. " I should h?.ve spared the constrictor, after the good service he had done in destroying the rattlesnake ; butCudjo, who hated all 'sorts of creeping things, was ahead of me ; ^nd, before \ could come up I beheld the victor suspended upor ^s ^pJarl" THE DEitRi liO.\*K 163 CHAPTER XXV. THE SUGAR TREE. " In the erwiing, we returned to our house, carrying with us, on the back of Pompo a good sized bag of salt. We had evaporated enough to cure our venison, and to last us for several weeks to come. When it should be used up, we knew where to go for more. There was no danger of the spring going dry. We had noticed, previous to the dis- covery of the salt creek, that the water of the lake was per- ceptibly brackish ; but^we had never reflected on the cause. Doubtless, this fact had prevented us from yearning — as we might otherwise have done — for the valuable substance we had now obtained in such plenty. " That night, after we had finished eating our suppers, Harry, who had been all the day burning with curiosity to know what was the important discovery hinted at by his mother, now reminded her of her promise. " ' Come, now, mamma ! ' said he, in a challenging tone, * what is it ? What have you found equal to that fine bag of salt, which you will all please to remember is the fruit of my discovery ? ' " ' But did I promise to tell you to-night ? I said when we should be in low spirits, did I not ? We are all happy now.' " O, you said to-night,' replied Harry. * Besides,' added he, trying to look grave, * I am in low spirits. I have been so all day — ever since — ever since — ' " 'Ever since you let the kettle against my shins, and went skunk hunting,' interrupted Frank, with a laugh, in ifvliich Cudjo joined heartily. " This allusion to Harry's morning adventure, which had formed the standing joke of the day, was not at all relished 164 THE DESERT HOME. by him ; and the look of mock gravity which he had assumed now became real. His mother — with whom Harry was a favorite- -noticed that he was vexed, and that now was the very time to apply the remedy. She soon, therefore, changed the current of his thoughts, by proposing to disclose the secret she had promised. " ' Well, then,' said she, * my discovery is this : While we were going up the valley this morning, I saw at some distance over the woods the top leaves of a very beautiful and very valuable tree.' " ' A tree ! ' cried Harry ; what 1 a cocoanut ? * " ' No.' " ' A bread fruit, may be ? ' " ' No.' " ' Orange, then ? ' " ' No, Harry,' replied his mother. * You must know we are not in that latitude. We are too far north for either bread fruits, orange trees, or cocoanut palms.' " * Ah I ' exclaimed Harry, with a sigh, ' those three are the only trees I care a fig for.' " ' How, now, if it were a fig tree, since you speak of figs ? ' " ' O, very well,' replied Harry ; < figs will do ; but I would rather it had been one of the others.' *' ' But it is not even a fig tree.' " ' O, it is not. What then, mamma ? " ' That of which I speak is a tree of the temperate zone ; and, in fact, grows to greatest perfection in the coldest parts of it. Have you noticed any tall, straight trees, with thick foliage of a bright, red color ? ' " ' Yes, mamma,' answered Frank ; * I have. I know a part of the valley where there are many of them — some of them nearly crimson, while other are orange colored.' " ' That is the tree of which I speak. The leaves are now of those colors because it is autumn. Earlier in the season they were of a bright green above, and whitish, or, as it is termed, glaucous, on the under surface.* ♦* • Q,* said H«^rry, seemingly disappointed with this in* lilE DESERT HOME. I65 torniation. * 1 have noticed them, too. They are very beautiful trees, it is true ; but then — ' " ' Then, what ? ' " * They are of no use to us — such big trees as they are. There is no fruit upon them, for I looked carefully; and what then ? We do not need their timber, I'm sure. We have as good timber as we want in these tulip trees.' " Come, Master Hal — not so fast, if you please. There are many parts of a tree which may serve for valuable uses besides its fruit, or its timber either.' " ' What 1 the leaves ? ' inquired the impatient Harry. * What use can we make of leaves ? ' " ' Come, master,' said Frank, in an improving tone ; * the leaves of some trees are very valuable. What think you of the tea plant, for instance ? ' " Harry felt rebuked, and remained silent. " ' We can make no use of the leaves of this tree,' con- tinued his mother ; ' at least, none that I am aware of.' " ' The bark, then ? ' interrogated Harry. " ^ No ; not the bark either.' " * The roots ? ' " * I know of no peculi-ar virtue in its roots more than those of the oak, ash, or any other large timber trees.' " ' What then, mamma ? It has no flowers, I a«i sure ; nor fruit neither, except little seeds, with wings upon them like a spider fly.' " * Those are its fruit.' " ' O 1 What use could we make of them ? I have seen just the same, or very like them, growing on the common sycamore tree.' " ' You are right there ; for the common sycamore, as you call it, is a tree of the same family. But I did not say we could make any use of these winged seeds. Can you think »>f nothing else that belongs to every tree ? " ' Nothing 1 Let me see ; yes — yes — the sap ? * " ' Ha 1 the sap 1 ' repeated his mother, with a peculiar em- phasis. l66 THE DKSKRl- HOME. " * What, mother ! ' cried Frank ; * a maple ? ' " < Yes 1 a stcgar jnaple ! Now, Master Hal ! ' " These words produced a startling effect upon the whole company. Frank and his brother had both heard of the famous sugar maple, though neither of them had ever seen it. The younger members, Mary and Luisa, knew nothing about maples, but the word '• sugar ' was more familiar to them ; and that, in connection with the joyous looks of the others, at once produced visions of sweetmeats and candy. Cudjo, too, who had never met with the sugar maple, as it did not grow in that part where Cudjo was himself indige- nous, nevertheless liked sugar as well as any of them, and greeted the announcement with delight. Nothing was heard tor some moments but cries of joy mingled with the words ' sugar ' and ' sugar maple. Greater is the longing which children, or even men experience for that which is difficult \Q obtain ; and greater is the delight that is felt upon the ^respect of obtaining it. " After the transport of our little circle had in some de- gree subsided, Mary proceeded to explain to them the nature of this remarkable tree. " ' The sugar maple,' said she, * you may easily distin- guish from other trees; by its ' light-colored bark, and pal- mate, five-lobed leaves, which, in summer, are of a bright, green color, but in autumn change, as you see, to crimson or orange. It somewhat resembles the English oak in its trunk, branches, and the great mass of foliage which it carries. Its wood is very heavy, and is often used in the manufacture of beautiful articles of furniture, as well as for ships, mills, and other mechanical purposes. But the principal value of this tree is found in its sap ; and by the mysterious but always wise distribution of nature, it seems to have been given to the people of the temperate and colder latitudes, in place of the sugar-cane, which, as you know, flourishes only in hot and tropical countries. " ♦ Each maple,' continued my wife, * will yield annually from three to four pounds of excellent sugar ; but to do this. It biiould be tapped early in the spring, for the sap does not run in the summer or winter. It runs, however, in the au- tumn, though not so freely as in spring ; but we must hope that we shall be able to draw as much from ours as will supply us until spring comes round again.' " ' But, mamma,' broke in the inquisitive Harry, ' when and how shall we get the sap .'* ' " ' I suppose, Harry, you wish for separate answers to these two questions which you have put so closely together. Well, then our best time to draw it will be after the very first frost which makes its appearance. It had been found that the sap runs best when the nights are clear and cold, and the days dry and warm. " ' The manner of extracting the sap, and .the process of making the sugar, are both very simple. In the first place, we must make a great many little troughs — one for every tree we intend to tap. These are used to supply the place of vessels which of course we have not got. The farmers of the United States, who make maple sugar, also use these troughs — as they will often have several hundred trees run- ning at the same time, and it would be rather expensive for a backwoodsman to supply himself with so many vessels from either the potter, the tinman, or the cooper. But the troughs, which are easily made, answer the purpose just as well ; and Cudjo here is able to make them for us. " ' After the troughs, nothing more is needed except a few joints of the cane which grows all around us. An auger hole must be bored in each of the trees, about three feet from the ground. Into each of these holes a single tube of cane must be inserted, simply to form a spout that may con- duct the running sap into the troughs below. We shall then have nothing further to do, but wait while the sap gathers in the troughs, collect it into our kettle, and boil it over the fire in the the same manner as we did the salt. " ' Now, Master Harry,' concluded my wdfe, ' be patient. Hope for an early frost, and you shall have a practical illustration of all these things.' „. l68 THE DESERT HOME. " Harry had not long to wait. Upon the third night after, a sHght hoarfrost covered the ground, and the day following was bright and warm. This was the very time to tap the maples, and so we set about it. " ' Cudjo had already prepared the troughs — more than twenty of them in all. These he made in the usual manner. He cut the trunks of several tulip trees — those that were about twelve inches in diameter — into logs of three feet each. These logs he split into two equal parts, and hollowed out the split sides with his chisel and mallet — thus forming a rude vessel, but quite good enough for the purpose of hold ing the sap. The cane tubes were also ready, and proceed- ing to the trees, — all of us together, — we bored a hole in each with our auger, fitted in the cane joints, and propped the troughs underneath. In a short time, the crystal liquid began to drip from the end of the spouts, and then it ran faster and faster, until a small, clear stream fell into the troughs. The first that issued forth we caught in our cups, as the sugar water is most delicious to drink ; and it seemed as if our little people, particularly Mary and Luisa, would never say * enough.' Harry, too was as fond of it as they ; and was heard to declare that the sugar maple was the finest tree of the forest, and quite a match for either bread-fruits, oranges, or cocoa palms. We had brought the large kettle ; and a fire was soon kindled, and a crane erected — just as we had done when making our salt. In a few hours the kettle was filled with sap, and boiling over the fire. " Each of us had now our separate duty to perform. Cudjo. with his bucket, went from tree to tree, collecting the sap as it gathered in the troughs, while Mary and I kept up the fire, and looked to the ladling. When a kettle of the water was sufficiently boiled down, it was necessary to pour it out into small vessels, that the sugar might crystallize by cooling. For this purpose we used all our plates, dishes, and cupSo As soon as it cooled it became hard as a brick, and of a very dark color. It was then removed from the small vessels, and a fresh quantity poured^ into them. That part of the THE DESERT HOME. 169 sap which would not crystallize was carefully strained from the vessels, and became molasses ; and these, let me tell you, are much finer than the molasses that are made from the sugar cane — much richer in color, and pleasanter to the palate. " Frank and Harry had their part to perform — which was to walk about, rifle in hand, and guard the troughs. This was an important matter, for it is a singular fact that wolves, raccoons, badgers, opossums, and in short every animal, wild or tame, will drink the sap of the sugar maple, and are so fond of it that they will risk their lives to get at it. As the trees we had opened stood at a considerable distance from each other, our two little sentries were kept constantly re- lieving one another upon their rounds. " The sap continued to run for several days ; and, ot course, we were kept busy during all that time. Had it been in the spring-time, we should have been employed for weeks at it, as it then runs longer and more freely. We were favored with a smart frost every night, which was a fortunate circumstance, as the water did not gather during the cold hours of the night — otherwise we should have found it impossible to guard the wild animals from our troughs. " All these nights we slept by the fire, where we had made a regular camp, as is usual in the backwoods of America. We only went to the house when it was necessary to get some article that was needed. We had put up a little tent, made out of our old wagon tilt, to cover us; and the place we called by the name which is in use among the backwoods' farmers — that is to say, a ' sugar camp.' We found this out-of-door life very exciting and agreeable, camp- ing thus in the thick, shady woods, with the great, majestic trees towering around us ; listening at times to the light breeze, as it rustled their golden leaves; or lulled into a pleasing tranquillity by the songs of a thousand birds. At night, however, the music was not so sweet to our ears, Then we heard the barking oi wolves, the mournful * cog- lyo THE DESERT HOME. whoo-a ' of the great horned owl, and the still more terrify, ing scream of the cougar. l]ut we kept up a crackling, blazing fire all the night, and ^YC knew that this would keep these fierce creatures at bay. " At length our work was done. The sugar water flowed each hour more slowly, and then ceased altogether ; and we broke up our camp. When we had returned to our house, and collected our many-shaped loaves, — for they were of all iorms, according to the vessels, — we found that all together weighed nearly a hundred pounds ! This would be enough for all our wants — at least, until the spring, when we pur- posed returning again to our grand storehouse among sugar maples." THE DtSLRT HOAIB. X^I CHAPTER XXVI. THE STUMP TREE AND THE BREAD PINE. " That evening, as we sat around the supper table, my wife announced that the last grain of our coffee was in the pot. This was sad news to all of us. Of the little luxuries that we had brought with us from St. Louis, our coffee had held out longest ; and a cup of this aromatic beverage had often cheered us during our toilsome journey across the prairie desert. Often, too, since our arrival in the valley, had it given a relish to our homely meal. " ' Well, then,' said I, by way of reply to the announce- ment, ' we must learn to do without it. We have now the materials for making soup ; what care we for coffee ? How many poor people would be glad to be surrounded with luxuries as we are ! Here we have venison of different kinds ; we can have beavers' tails whenever we want them. There are fish, too, in the lake and stream ; there are hares and squirrels, which we shall trap in abundance, by and by ; and, in addition to all, we shall dine often upon ruffed grouse and roast turkey. I wonder, with ail these luxuries around us, who is not content ? ' " ' But, papa,' said Harry, taking up the discourse, " in Virginia, I have often seen our black folks make coffee out of Indian corn. It is not bad, I assure you. I have drank it there, and thought it very good. Have not you, Cudjo ? ' *• ' Dat berry coffee dis chile hab drunk, Massa Harry.' " ' Now, papa ? ' " ' Well, Harry, what of it ? ' " ' Why should we not use that — the Indian corn I mean — ■ tor coffee ? ' " ' Why, Harry,' said I, ' you surely do not reflect upon 172 THE DESERT HOME. what you are talking about. We have a far worse want than coffee, and that is this very Indian corn to make bread of. Could I only get a supply of that, I should think very little about coffee or any other beverage. Unfortunately, there is not a grain of corn within many a hundred miles of where we are now sitting.' " ' But there is, papa ; I know where there is at least a quart of it ; and within less than a hundred yards of us, too.' " ' Come,' said I, ' my boy, you have mistaken some useless seed for corn. No corn grows in this valley, I am certain.' '" ' It did not grow in this valley. It has traveled all the way from St. Louis along with us. It is now in the wagon.' "'What! corn in the wagon ? ' I exclaimed, starting up with such vehemence as to frighten my children. ' Are you sure of that, Harry ? ' " ' I saw it this very morning, in one of the old bags,' re- plied he. " ' Come ! ' cried I ; * get a torch, Cudjo. To the wagon I to the wagon ! ' " In a short time we had reached the wagon, which stood close to the door. With a beating heart, I climbed into it. There was an old, worn-out buffalo robe, with the harness of the ox, lying upon the bottom. I flung these aside, and, un- derneath, I saw a coarse gunny bag, such as are used in the Western States for holding Indian corn. I knew that it was one of those we had brought with us from St. Louis, con- taining corn for our horse and oxen ; but I was under the impression that I had emptied out the last of it long before. I took the bag up, and, to my inexpressible delight, found that it still contained a small quantity of the precious grain : besides, there was still more of it, that had been spilled from time to time, and had got into the corners and cracks of the wagon. These we collected carefully, and put with the rest — not leaving a single grain that we did not scrape out from the cracks. Then, carrying my bag into the house, I turned out its contents upon the table. To our great joy, there was, '*■ Harry had affirmed, nearly a quart of the golden grain. THE DESERT HOME. 1 73 " ' Now,' said I, ' we shall have bread.' " This was a glad sight to my wife. During the preced- ing days, we had frequently talked upon this subject, — the want of bread, — which is one of our first necessities. We lived in hope that we should find some species of cereal in the valley that would supply us with a substitute for bread ; but, up to that time, nothing of the kind had appeared. We had gathered the mast from the beach tree, and roasted it ; we had collected quantities of locust pods and acorns ; we had also eaten the pulpy fruit of the pawpaw ; but all these together we found to be but poor apologies for real bread. This, then, was a discovery of far greater importance to us than either the salt or the sugar. " The winter, in the latitude of our valley, would be a short one. We could then plant the corn — there was enough of it to plant a whole acre. It would come to maturity in six or eight weeks ; and we knew that in such a climate we could easily raise two crops in the year — so that, before the next winter came round, we should have enough and to spare. " While we stood by the table, talking over these pleasant prospects, one of the boys — Frank it was — suddenly shouted out, ' Wheat ! wheat 1 ' " I looked down, to ascertain what he meant. He had been turning over the yellow seeds of the maize and, among them, had discovered several grains of wheat. No doubt there had been wheat in the bag before the com had been put into it ; arid this was soon confirmed, as, on carefully searching the bag, we found several of the precious prickles still dinging between the seams. After separating the one species from the other with great carefulness, — for we did not wish to lose a single seed, — we found that our grains of wheat counted exactly one hundred. This, to be sure, was a small quantity to go a farming with ; but we remembered the old saying, ' Great oaks grow from little acorns,' and we knew the importance of these small, gray seeds. In a couple of years we should have large crops of wheat. " * You see,' said I, addressing my little family, * how kind 174 THE DESERT HOME. Providence has been to us. Here, in the middle ot the desert, has he furnished us with all the necessaries of life ; and now, with a little patience, we may promise ourselves many of its luxuries — for what can mamma not make out of iiour and sugar ? ' " ' O, everything ! ' cried Frank, who had grown enthu- siastic at the prospect of farming, for he was fond of agri- cultural pursuits ; ' we can have venison pasties with our flour.' " * And fruit pies,' added Harry ; ' there are plenty of fruits. I have found wild plums, and cherries, and mulberries as long as my finger, and whortleberries, too. What delicious puddings we can make ! ' " ' Yes,' said I ; ' now shall we care for coffee ? ' " ' No, no ! ' cried Frank and Harry in a breath. " ' Then you shall have it,' said their mother with a smile of peculiar meaning. " ' What ! mother ? ' exclaimed Harry ; * another tree ? ' "*Yes, indeed, another.' *' ' Not a coffee plant ? ' *' ' No ; but a coffee tree.' " ' A coffee tree ! Why I thought, mamma, that they never grew, except in the hottest parts of the tropics.' " ' That is true enough of the small tree or shrub which produces the coffee you have been accustomed to drink; but not far from us there is a very large tree, whose seed will give us a very palatable substitute. Here is a specimen of it.' " So saying, she threw down upon the table a large brown pod, — of at least twelve inches in length by two in breadth, ■ — exactly the shape of a crescent or young moon. It re- minded us of the pods of the locust, though differing con- siderably in shape. Like them, too, when opened, — which was forthwith done, — it was seen to contain a pulpy sub- stance, in which several large, gray-colored seeds were embedded. These seeds, she informed us, when parched, ground, and boiled, after the manner of the true coffee, THE DESERT HOME. 17$ would afford us a beverage nearly as good, and quite as wholesome, " ' The tree,' said she. ' from which I have plucked this pod, grows in most parts of America. You may have ob- served it here ? ' " ' I have,' interrupted Harry. ' Now that mamma has shown us the use of the maples, I have been looking partic- ularly at all the trees ; since I find that some of them that appeared scarce worthy of notice, may, after all, be very interesting.' "'I have observed the tree,' added Frank, who was some- thing of a botanist as well as his mother. ' I noticed that its bark is very rough, dropping off here and there in large, curling scales. The branches, too, are very odd looking ; they have blunt, stumpy ends, that give the tree a clumsy appearance. Is it not so, mamma ? ' " ' Precisely as you say. Hence its name of " chicot " among the Canadian French, and "stump tree "in the United States. Its botanical name \s gynmodadns, which means, " with naked branches ; " for during the winter, as you shall find, it will present a very naked appearance. It is also known as the " Kentucky coffee tree," because the early pioneers and settlers of that country, when they were unable to obtain the true coffee, made use of its seeds, as we intend doing.' " ' O ! ' cried Harry ; ' only think of it — sugar and coffee, and salt, and plenty of meat, and roast turkey — everything but bread. If we only had bread 1 Would our corn not grow if we planted it now, papa ? ' " ' No ; the frost would kill the young plants. We must have patience until spring.' " * It is a long time till spring,' said Harry, with rather a dis()ontented air ; ' and then we must wait much longer while the corn is growing. It is a very long time to wait.' " * Come, Master Hal,' rejoined his mother, * I fear yow are one of those who cannot be satisfied, no matter how mar y blessings are heaped upon them. Remember how 176 THE DESERT HOME. many are worse off than yourself — how many are without bread, even where it is plentiest. No doubt, at this moment, many a hungry boy in the streets of wealthy London is standing by the baker's window, and gazing at the crisp loaves, with no more chance to eat one of them than you have. He is worse off than you. You have other food, — plenty of it, — he has none ; and, moreover, his hunger i? rendered more acute and painful by the sight of the tempt- ing food — separated from his hand only by a pane of glass, poor boy ! that pane of glass is to him a wall of adamant. Think upon this, my son, and learn to be contented.' •' ' Indeed, I am so mamma,' repHed Harry, with a look of contrition. I did not mean to complain. I was only think- ing how nice it would be to have bread, now that we have got both sugar and coffee.' " ' Ah 1 now, my good Harry,' said his mother, ' since I find you in the proper spirit, I think I must tell you about another curious and useful tree, of which, perhaps, you have ijot heard.' "*A bread-fruit now, I'm sure? No, it cannot be that; for I have heard of the bread-fruit.' " ' Still, it might very appropriately be called a bread- fruit, since, during the long winter months, it furnishes bread to many tribes of Indians ; indeed, not bread alone, but sub- sistence — as it is the only food these improvident people have.' " ' I am sure I have never heard of that tree.' " ' Well, I imagine not, as it is not long since it was dis- covered and described by botanists ; and even now it is but imperfectly known to them. It is a pine.' " ' What ! a pine with fruit ? ' " * Did you ever see a pine without it — that is, in the proper season ? ' " ' Then you call those cone-shaped things fruit ? ' " * Certainly ; what else should they be ? ' " * O, I thought those were the seed.' " * So are they, and the fruit as well. In botany, we have THE DESERT HOME. T77 flo such word as fruit. What you call fruit is in some trees the seed. In all species of nuts, for instance, the fruit and the seed are one a»d the same thing — that is to say, the kernel of the nut is both fruit and seed. So it is with legu- minous plants, as beans and peas. In other trees, however, the fruit is a substance covering and enclosing the seed, as the pulp of the apple, the pear, and the orange. Now, with regard to the pines, they are nut-bearing trees, and their seed is at the same time their fruit.' " * But, mamma, you do not mean that any one could eat those rough things that grow upon pine trees ? * " ' Those rough things you speak of are the cones. They are only the sheaths that protect the seeds during a certain period of the year. They open as nuts do, and then you will find a kernel inside, which is the true fruit.' " ' But I have tasted that, too ; it is quite bitter.' " ' You have tasted that of the common pine, and you say true of it ; but there are many species of pine trees, whose seeds are not only edible, but pleasant to the taste, and wholesome as an article of food.' " ' What pines, mamma ? ' " ' Several species are known. Several new ones have been discovered of late years, and in this very desert. Per- haps in no part of the world is found a greater variety of these valuable trees than in the mountainous countries which border upon and lie within the Great American Desert. There is one species in California, called " Colorado" by the Spaniards — which means red^ because their wood, wlien sawed up, is of a reddish color. Trees of this kind are the largest in the world ; they are often over three hundred feet in height ! Only think of a tree three hundred feet high, when the tallest we saw in the Mississippi Valley was rot much over half that. Yet there are whole forests of these upon the mountains of the Sierra Nevada. There is another species almost as large on these same mountains. It has been called by botanists pmus Lambertiana. It is more re- markable, however, for the size of its cones, which are of the 178 IIIK DESK. HI- HUME. enormous length of eighteen inches — a foot nnd a half! Fanc} how singular a sight it must be — one of these gigantic trees, with cones hanging from its branches larger than sugar loaves I * " ' O, beautiful indeed ! ' exclaimed Frank and Harry at the same time. " * But, mamma,' added Frank, ' are these the sort that are eaten by the Indians ? ' " ' Their seeds are also fit to eat, and in times of great distress the Indians and others resort to them for food ; but it is not of them I intended to speak. It is of another kind very distinct from either, and yet growing in the same region. It is a small tree, rarely seen of more than thirty or forty feet in height, and with leaves or needles of a much lighter green than the generality of pines. Its cones are not larger than those of the common sort ; but tlie seed or kernel is oily, like the American walnut, and quite as agreeable in flavor. They cannot be otherwise than nutritious, since, as I have said, they form the whole subsistence of many people for months in the year. They can be eaten raw ; but the Indians usually roast them. When roasted or parched, and .then ground in a mill, or broken in a mortar, they make a species of meal, which, though coarse in appearance, can be baked into sweet and wholesome bread. This tree is called by the Mexicans " pinon,' and also by travelers the " nut pine." The only botanist who has fairly described it has given it the name oipinus jnonophyllus. Perhaps as good a name as any, and certainly the most appropriate, — I mean, for its popular name, — would be the " bread pine." ' " < But, mamma, does this tree grow in our valley? We have not seen it.' " * Not in the valley, I think ; but I have hopes that we may lind it on the mountain. The day we came around the latter, I thought I saw a strange, species of pine growing up in the ravines. It might be this ver}' one ; and I am the more inclined to think so as I have heard that it grows on the Rocky Mountains, — within the latitudes of Is'ew Mexico, i THE DESERT HOME. 1 79 —and also on all the sierras that lie between them and the Pacific. I see no reason why we should not find it upon our mountain, which is, no doubt, a sort of outlying peak of the Rocky Mountains themselves.' " ' O, then,' said Harry, ' shall we not go up to the moun- tain, and see about it ? An excursion to the mountain would be so very pleasant. Don't you think so, papa ? ' " ' I do, indeed,' I replied ; * and as soon as we can make a cart for Pompo, so as to be able to take mannna and the children along with us, we shall go there.' " This proposal was hailed with delight, as all wished very much to visit the beautiful mountain that rose so majestic- ally above us. It was settled, then, that on the first fine day, as soon as our cart was constructed, we should set forth;, and make a grand picnic to the mountain." l8o THE DESERT HOME. CHAPTER XXVIL THE SNOW LINE. " In three days the cart was finished. We had no diffi- culty in constructing one, as the principal part — that is, the wheels — was already made. We had two pair of them, of course, in our old wagon ; and the larger ones, which hap- pened to be in very good order, served our purpose exactl}'. Cudjo soon attached a body and shafts to them, andPompo's harness was put into thorough repair. " We had not long to wait for a fine day. Every day was fine in the clear, pure climate of our valley ; sd that as soon as the cart was ready, we had a day to our liking. We set out shortly after sunrise, with our hearts full of anticipated pleasure. Of course, we all went — Mary, the children, Cudjo, Pompo, dogs, and all. The house was again left to take care of itself. " Mary and the two little ones rode in the cart, upon a soft seat made of palmetto leaves and Spanish moss. Pompo, who appeared to partake of the general happiness, whisked the vehicle along as if there had been nobody in it, and he was only drawing it for his own amusement. Cudjo cracked his great wagon whip, and every now and then uttered a loud * Wo-ha ; ' while Castor and Pollux galloped gaily from side to side, running their noses into every bush that grew along the path. " We soon made our way through the valley, and climbed up to the plain. We looked once more upon the desert that stretched away on all sides ; but its dreary aspect no longer filled us with fear. We did not regard it now, and the sight inspired us with feelings of curiosity and novelty rather than qI ierrpr. Away to the southward, the sun was glancing THE DESERr HOME. iSl .SjOn the broad expanse of whit', sand ; and several tall ob- jects, like vast, dun-colored towers, were moving over the plain. They were whirlwinds, carrying the dust upward to the blue sky, and spinning it from pomt to point. Some- times one glided away alone, until it was lost on the distant horizon. Here two of them were moving in the same direc- tion, keeping a regular distance from each other, and seem- ingly running a race. There several came together ; and after a short, gusty contest, the whole set would break up into shapeless masses of yellowish clouds, and then float on- Avard with the wind, and downward to the earth again. It was an interesting sight to view those huge pillars towering up to the heavens, and whirling like unearthly objects over the wide plain. It was indeed an interesting sight ; and we remained for many minutes observing their motions. " At length we turned our faces towards the mountain, and continued our journey along the edge of the cliffs. The high peak glistened before us, and the sun's rays falling upon it, caused it to appear of a beautiful color — a mixture of gold and red, as though a shower of roses had fallen upon the snow I We noticed that there was now more snow upon the mountain than when we had first seen it, and that it came farther down its sides. This attracted the attention of all of us ; and Frank at once called for an explanation, which his mother volunteered to give, for she very well understood the phenomenon. " * In the first place,' said she, * as you ascend upward in the atmosphere, it becomes thinner and colder. Beyond a certain point, it is so cold that neither men nor any other animals can exist. This can be proved in several ways ; and the experience of those who have climbed mountains only three miles high confirms it. Some of these adventurous men have been nearly frozen to death. This is a fact, then, in regard to the atmosphere over all parts of the earth ; but we may also observe, that near the equator you may go higher, without reaching this extreme cold, than in the coun- tries which lie nearer to the poles. Another fact, which you l62 IHE DESERr HUME. will easily believe, is, that in summer j^ou can climb higher before you reach the cold region than in winter. Bear these facts in mind. Now, then, if it be so cold at a certain height that men would be frozen to death, of course, at that height snow will not melt. What is the natural inference ? Why, that mountains whose tops pierce up into this cold region will most certainly be covered with perpetual snow. It is not likely that anything but snow ever falls upon their sum- mits ; for when it rains upon the plains around them, it is snowing upon the high peaks above. Indeed it is probable that most of the rain which descends upon the earth has been crystals of snow when it commenced its descent ; and, after- wards melting in the lower and warmer regions of the atmos- phere, takes the shape of water globules, and thus falls to the ground. These globules, no doubt, are very small when they first emerge from the snow region, but as they pass slowly downward through clouds of vapor, they gather together and attract others, (by a law which I have not time to explain,) and, descending faster and faster, at length plash down to the earth in large drops. Whenever it rains, then, at any particular place, you may be almost certain that it is snowing at the same time over that place — only at a point in the atmosphere far above it. I have been convinced of this fact, by observing that, immediately after every occasion when it has rained in the valley, there ap- peared a gr ter ;uantity of snov/ upon the mountain. Had the mountain n t been there, this snow would have continued on and become r in, like that which fell upon the plains and into the valley.' " * Then, mamma,' interrupted Frank, ' this mountain must be of great height, since the snow lies upon it all the year.' " * Does that follow ? ' " * I think so. You said the snow did not melt because it was cold high up.' " * But suppose you were in a country near the north pole, where snow lies all the year at the very seaside, and con.^.e- THE DESERT HOMK. iS,, quently at the sea le; .1; would it then prove a mountain t-^ be very high ? ' " ' O 1 I see — I see now. The perpetual snow upon a mountain only shows it to be of great height when the mountain happens t^ be in warm latitudes.' " ' Precisely so. In very warm countries, such as those within the tropics, when you see the snow cap upon a mountain, you may infer that it Is a very high one — at least, over two miles in height ; and \-hcn :hore i much snow upon it, — that is, when the snow reac!ies far down its sides, — it proves the mountain to be still higher — three miles or more above the level . f the ocean.' '' ' Our mou: tain, then, ma t b a high one ; since It i: in a warm latitu e, and sno ' 'ies all the y:ar upon it.' •" It is . -igh o-^^, " m.parativdy sp.aking, but y^u will remember, ./hen we firct saw It, ' liere was only .. small patch of snow upon ics top na prrbably in Very hot summers that disappears altogtht^r .; so th:.t it is not so hi'-h as many others upon this condn ;nt. T king our latitude into cal- culation, anu the c^uantity of snow which li s upon this mountain, I should say it was about fourteen thousand ieet.' "'01 so much as th t ? It does not seem half so high. i have seen mountcans that appeared to me tr be ^uite as high r.s i:, r.nc! yet it was said they did n t measure the half of fourteen tho iLa-.i. feet.' " Thr.t arises f o:n the fact th.it you are not viewing this one from the pea 1 vel, as you did them. The plain upon •which it stands, an^ from wl *ch we view it, is of itself ele- vated nearly half as muc' . Yoa must remember that we are upon one of the high tables of the American continent.' " Here, for a minute or so, the conversation stopped ; and we traveled on in silence, all o us with our eyes fixed on the white and roseate p^ak that gli tered before us, leading our eyes far up into the heavens. " Frank again resumed the discourse, which had been broken off by our admiration of this beautiful object. 184 THE DESERT HOME. ** * Is it not curious,' said he, * that the snow should He so regularly, coming down on all sides to the same height, and ending just like the cape of a coat, or the hem of a nightcap ? It seems to be a straight line all around the mountain.' " * That line,' rejoined his mother, ' is, as you say, a curi- ous phenomenon, and caused by the laws of heat and cold, which we have just been explaining. .It is called the " snow line," and a good deal of speculation has arisen among cos- mographers about the elevation of this line. Of course, on mountains within the tropics, this line will be at great height above the level of the sea. As you advance northward or southward to the poles, it will be found lower and lower, un- til within the frigid z,ones it may be said to cease altogether — for there, as we have said, snow covers the whole earth, and there can be no *' snow line." " ' From this, one would suppose that an exact scale might be formed, giving the elevation of the snow line for all lati- ti-des. But that could not be done. Observation has shown that it not only differs on mountains that lie in the same lati- tude, but that on the same mountain it is often higher on one siae than the other — particularly on those of great extent, as the Himalayas of India. This is all quite natural, and easily accounted for. The position of mountains to one another, and their proximity or great distance from the sea, will give them a colder or warmer atmosphere, independent of latitude. Moreover, the same mountain may have a warmer climate on one side than the other ; and of course the snow line will be higher on that side which is the warmer, in consequence of the greater melting of the snow. This line, too, varies in summer and winter for a like reason — as we see here upon our own mountain, where it has already descended several feet since the weather has become colder. This, you will acknowledge, is all very plain ; and you will see, too, that nature, although apparently capricious in many of her operations, acts most regularly in this one, as perhaps in all others.' " ' But, mamma,' inquired Harry, ' can w^e not get to the THE DESERT HOME. 185 top of the mountain ? I should Hke to have some snow to make snowbalis, and pelt PYank with them.' " * It would be a very difficult task, Master Hal ; and more than either you or I could get through with. I think Frank will escape being snowballed this time.' " * But people have climbed to the top of the Himalaya Mountains ; and they are far higher than this, I am sure.' " * Never,' interrupted Frank ; ' no one has ever climbed the Himalayas. Have they, mamma ? ' " ' No mortal has ever been so high as the summits of those great mountains, which are more than five miles above the level of the ocean. Even could they be climbed, it is not likely that any animal could live at their top. These in- accessible things seem to have been designed by the Creator to afford us objects for sublime contemplation — objects far above the reach of mortal man, and that can never be ren-i dered common by his contact. Do they not seem so ? ' " We had now reached the foot of the mountain, and, halting near the entrance of the ravine^ we loosed Pompo from his cart, and rested ourselves on the banks of the little stream. After a while, we commenced ascending up into the defile in search of the pinons. As we advanced, Mary pointed out the trees which she had noticed on a former occasion. They appeared of a light, green color, much lighter than others that grew near them. We made to- wards one which stood apart, and was most accessible to us. This we hoped might prove to be the bread pine tree ; and we approached it with feelings of anxiety and expectation. " In a short time we were under its branches, and if we had had no other test than what we saw there, combined \yith the delicious fragrance of the tree, we could have told that it could be no other than the pifion. The ground was covered with cones, each of them about an inch and a half in length ; but, on examining them, we found them all broken open, and the seed extracted. Some animal had been there before us, and relished their contents — thus afford- ing a proof that they were good to eat. There were stiU l86 THE DESERT HOME. many of the cones hanging on the tree, and it was not long until we had split some of them open and tasted their ripe, seeds. " * It is it 1 ' cried my wife, clapping her hands with deiight,' * It is the nut pine ! This will serve for bread until we can grow our wheat and corn. Come, let us gather them,' added she, pointing to a large grove of the same trees that grew at a short distance ; and we all hurried to the grove, and com- menced shaking down the cones, and gathering them into heaps. " We had soon collected as many as we wanted, and in the evening we returned to the valley, with our little cart half full of pine nuts. On reaching home, these were parched, and pounded into a sort of coarse meal ; and that night, for the first time during many weeks we had cakes to our supper,** tH£ DESERT HOME. l6j CHAPTER XXVIII. THE MENAGERIE, AVIARY, AND BOTANIC GARDEN. " We were busy, of course, every day, as we had plenty of work to do. We laid a floor in our cabin, and fenced a couple of fields — one to plant our corn in, and the other to keep Pompo from straying off into the woods and meeting with some animal that might feel inclined to devour him. We also succeeded in killing several red deer and a couple of elk, which we stored up for our winter provision. We did not find the blacktails very palatable, and most of their flesh went to feed Castor and Pollux. " Cudjo was the busiest of all of us. He made several household utensils, which proved of great service to us. He also constructed for himself a wooden plow, which would serve every purpose — as there was a considerable portion of the ground that was without turf, and could be easily turned. This part had been covered with beautiful flowers such as sunflowers, red and orange-colored poppies, and asclepias. It was almost a pity to plow them up. " With an eye to the future scarcity of our ammunition, we had begun to practise hunting with a weapon which would answer all our purposes almost as well as the rifle — still keeping the latter, of course, for great occasions. We had found some of the do/s iVarc^ or ' Osage orange,' as it is called, growing in the valley. This is the famous bow- wood of the Indians ; and, taking a hint from these children of nature, we made three bows, stringing them — as the Indians do — with the sinews of the deer. For arrows we had the straight cane reeds ; and Cudjo made us a set of barbs out of iron spikes that we had taken from the wagon. With daily practising at a mark, before the winter was over. l88 THE DESERT HOME. we were all three nble to use our new weapons to some pur- pose ; and Harry, to his mother's great deHght, could bring down a squirrel from the top of the highest tree in the valley. As a marksman, both with the bow and rifle, he was quite superior to Frank, who, instead of feeling jealous, seemed rather to be proud of the skill of his brother. Harry, during all the winter, kept our table loaded with partridges, squirrels, — of which there were several species, — hares, and wild turkeys-; the last of which, being much finer than tame ones, of course we w^ere all very fond of. " My wife, too, added largely to the delicacies of our table. During the last days of autumn, she made several botanical excursions, — of course all of us accompanying her by way of guard, — and in each of these some useful production was discovered. We found several species of wild fruits — currants, cherries, and a small fruit known as the * service berry,' which grew in great profusion. All these fruits were gathered in quantity, and made into preserves. We obtained roots as well — one of which was the pomme blafiche^ or Indian turnip ; but the most interesting of all was the wild potato, which we dug up — for, in fact, it is only upon these table lands of America where that plant is indigenous. We should not have recognized it as an old acquaintance but for the botanical knowledge of my wife. Its roots were not larger than wrens' eggs, and we could find so few of them, that, in its wild state, we saw it w^ould be of no use to us as an article of food. Mary, however, had hopes that, by cultivation, we might produce larger ones ; so we collected all the tubers we could fall in with, and kept them for seed. " Out of the pods of the honey locust, we brew^ed a very agreeable sort of beer ; but we were able to extract a still more generous beverage from the wild or fox grapes that grew in all parts of the valley. While traveling through France, I had learned how the wine was made ; and our vintage succeeded to perfection. On the winter nights, as we snt around our cheerful log fire, Mary was accustomed THE DESERT HOME. 189 to deal out to us a measure apiece of the exhilarating drink. It was only, however, after a hard day's work, or hunting, that we were allowed to draw upon this precious store. " About this time, a new idea entered into my mind, which I communicated to the others, and with which they all fully agreed. It was this: To capture as many of the wild animals as we could, and endeavor to domesticate them to our uses. I was prompted to this purpose by various con- siderations. First, because I saw, although there were several kinds of deer in the valley, there were but few of each kind ; and it was not likely that for many years they had been upon the increase. Nature had so disposed it, ■that these creatures had been regularly thinned off every year by the numerous beasts of prey that prowled through the valley. Now, an additional enemy was added to the number of their destroyers ; and I foresaw that, unless some precaution should be taken, the deer would soon become so scarce and wild, that we should find it difficult to obtain enough for our uses. Could we only kill off the fierce beasts — such as panthers, and wolves, and wolverenes — that preyed upon them, then the whole valley would become our deer park, and the deer would soon increase to any number we wanted. This, however, we could not do ; and, in fact, the beasts of prey were as likely to master us as we them — for none of us were safe in venturing into the thick woods alone ; and whenever the boys made a short excursion from the glade, their mother was always in a state of anxiety until they returned. In fact, every hunt we made was attended with considerable danger, as we always fell in with the tracks of wolves, panthers, and even bears ; and we frequently saw these animals skulking through the underwood. We knew that in time our powder must run' out, and then our rifles would be useless to us. Our bows and arrows would then avail us but little against such thick-hided monsters as these. We only hoped that, when we became better acquainted with the habits of these carnivorous creatures, we should be enabled to destroy them in traps, and thus thin them off at 190 THE DESERT HOME. our leisure, and without wasting our ammunition. This, of course, would constitute a branch of our employment ; and, besides being a work of utility, would furnish us with an excitement not the less agreeable because it was hazardous. Could we, therefore, collect a few of the more useful animals into an enclosed park, they woukl soon propagate and in- crease, and then the trouble as well as danger which we experienced in hunting them would be at an end. We knew that our maize corn, yielding two crops in the year, would enable us to supply them abundantly with food. " There was still another consideration, which had its weight in these plans. I was very fond of the study of natural history, — particularly that branch of it relating to quadrupeds, — and I foresaw the pleasure of observing the habits of these wild creatures. We should not, therefore, confine ourselves to making ' pets ' of those animals that might merely serve us for food. W'e should embrace in our collection all that we could subject to our rule, whether gentle or fierce. In fact, it was our intention to establish a regular 'menagerie of the desert.' " The main object of our industry and prospective wealth — that is, the collection of the beaver fur — would not, in any way, interfere with these plans. The beavers, in short, would give us very little trouble — as the drying and preserv- ing the skins of those we should trap annually would only occupy us a small portion of the year. " Hariy entered with more spirit into my designs than any of the others ; for Harry, like myself, was fond of the quad- rupeds. Frank, on the other hand was a great birdcatcher, and recommended that we should include the birds in our menagerie. To this, of course, we assented freely. Mary had her own designs already shaped out ; and these were to gather all the plants and trees that might be either curious or useful, and to observe what effect cultivation would pro- duce upon them — in short, it was her wish to form a com- plete ' botanical garden.' *' To each, then, was given a se[)araU' (Upartmenl. I Jarry THE DESERT HOME. 191 and I were designated * beast tamers * ; Frank tb^ ' bird tamer ' ; while Mary was appropriately styled the ' tree tamer.* To Cudjo was assigned a very important share of the labor. He was to enclose the park for our deer, as well as the grounds for the botanic garden. He was, also, to make our traps and cages — all of which things Cudjo knew how to do, and how to do them well. Of course, we were to assist him, as well as each other, in carrying out our designs. " Thus our plans for the future were interesting to all of us. In our various pursuits, we should be enabled to employ all our idle time. We had no books, either to amuse or in- struct us ; but we knew that we should derive both instruc- tion and amusement from the study of the greatest of sdl books — //le book 0/ nature,^* 192 THE D£S£RT HOME. CHAPTER XXIX. TRAPPING THE BEASTS AND BIRDS. " Harry was the first who succeeded in making a capture ; and that was a pair of gray squirrels, which he had trapped at the bottom of their tree. For these a large cage was constructed, and they soon became so tame that they would take the nuts provided for them out of our hands. These, of course, were only idle pets ; but they added much to our company and amusement, as we watched diem in their an- tics around the bars of their cage — now springing from point to point, and now sitting, monkey-like, and gnawing the nuts as they held them between their fore-paws. " Shortly after this event, Frank became the hero of the hour; and his achievement was one of considerable im- portance. For some time, he had been keeping his eye upon the wild turkeys ; and for the purpose of securing some of them alive, he had constructed, not far from the house a species of pen — which is known in America by the name of * log trap.' This was a very simple contrivance. It was made of split rails, such as Cudjo used for his fences ; and these were placed upon one another, so as to enclose a hollow square between them. They were raised about the height of an ordinary fence from the ground, while other rails — heavy ones — were laid over the top, close enough to prevent the turkeys, should they enter, from escaping, but not so near each other as to darken the interior of the trap, and so render it forbidding in its appearance. The entrance was the main contrivance, although it was not an original idea with Frank. It was upon a plan similar to the wire cages used for trapping rats — where the rat can easily find its way in, but has not sufficient cunning to know the road out THE DESERT HOME. I93 again, i^recisely as the wire funnel is constructed for ine rats, Frank had made one of rails, for his turkeys, and waited patiently until some of them should enter it. He placed various kinds of seeds and roots within the enclosure ; but several days passed, and no birds were taken. " After some practise, the ' birdcatcher ' became able to imitate the * gobbling ' of the old cocks so exactly, that, at some distance off in the woods, you could not tell but that it was one of themselves. By this means, he could call the turkeys up to the ground where he himself lay concealed ; but the seeds he had baited his trap with were not suffi- ciently enticing, and none of them would go under the rails. At length, however, he hit upon an expedient, which was sure to succeed, if anything could. He had shot one of the turkeys with his arrows ; and, taking it into the trap, he carefully propped it up, so that it appeared to be still alive, and busy feeding upon its bait. He then retired to some distance ; and, hiding himself among the brushwood, ' gob- bled ' as before. Three large birds soon made their ap- pearance, coming cautiously through the woods. Of course, like all wild turkeys, they were ujDon the ground, stalking along just like so many ostriches. At length, they came in sight of the pen, and, seeing one of their own kind quietly, feeding, as they thought, within it, they approached fear- lessly, and ran around the enclosure, seeking for an entrance. Frank lay watching all their movements, and his heart, at this moment, was thumping against his ribs. His anxiety did not long endure. The three great birds soon found the wide funnel ; and, without hesitating, ran up it, and appeared inside the trap. Frank sprang from his lurking-place ; and, running forward, first shut up the entrance by filling it with stones. Then, climbing upon the top, he slipped through between the rails, and secured the birds by tying their legs together with a stout thong of deer skin. When he had lifted them out of the trap, he again adjusted everything, leaving the * decoy turkey quietly feeding as before, and shoulderinp- his prize he marched off in triumph. His »"='<-um 13 J94 THE DESERT HOME. to the house was greeted with exclamations of joy ; and a rail pen was immediately built for the birds, similar to the trap in which they had been caught, but of course, without the funnel or entrance. The only regret we had was, that the three were all cocks — regular ' old gobblers.' *' Next day, hoM^ever, Frank remedied this by making a still more important capture. On returning to visit his trap before sunrise, he saw from a distance that there was a live turkey inside, with a number of smaller birds, which, in the gray light, appeared like so many partridges. On getting nearer, to his surprise and delight he found that what he had taken for partridges was a large brood of young turkeys, and that which he had first seen was their mother. The little ones were running out and in,, for they could easily pass be- tween the rails ; while the mother ran around, thrusting her head out of the pen, and occasionally spreading her wings and flapping upwards, endeavoring to escape in that direc- tion. The young were all making a great ado, and evidently aware that their mother was ' in the trap.' " Frank, fearing that the youngsters might get off if he at- tempted to approach them alone, came back to the house, and summoned Harry, Cudjo, and myself to his assistance. To make sure of them, we took with us the long canvas tilt of the wagon, with a couple of blankets fastened to it at the end. We adopted every precaution, as we looked upon cap- turing this young brood as a thing of great importance since we could bring them up quite domesticated, and from them should breed as many more as we pleased. We approached the pen with all due caution ; and, when near, we separated, each of us taking a side. We then advanced upon the trap, completely surrounding it ; and, while the birds ran confusedly from side to side, we stretched the tilt and blankets all around the pen, thus cutting off their retreat. In a few moments we had secured both the old hen and her chicks, amounting, in all, to no less than eighteen of them 1 This was a capture, indeed ; and we immediately hurried back to the house with them, not forgetting to take along with us the * decoy tur- THE DESERT HOME. I95 k^y,* which, being a fine, fat fellow, and killed only the day b«ifore, served us for a very good dinner. For the turkey- hen and young we built another pen, near to that where we had imprisoned the three ' old gobblers.' The one last con- structed was made with more care, and closer between the rails, so that the youngsters might not get out and wander off. *' Frank again baited his log trap, and used for a decoy die of the gobblers, which he tied by the leg to a rail. In this way several others were caught ; when the birds at length became shy, and kept away from the pen altogether. However, we had now as many as we could feed, until our corn should ripen and be gathered. •' From this time, every day saw new additions to our aviary. Frank had procured the bark of the ilex opaca, or American holly ; and this, when macerated in water, and then fermented and cleared of its fibers, made the very best of birdlime. A large cage had been constructed out of bow- wood with the straight reeds of the cane, and divided into many compartments, so that birds of different species should be separated from each other. In a short time, the cage was seen to contain specimens of the blue jay and red bird, or Virginia nightingale, orioles of several species, and doves of two distinct kinds. There were also several Carolina paro- quets ; and Frank had succeeded in capturing a bird of a very rare kind, which, I believe, is known to the Indians as the * wakon.' It was the American bird of paradise ; and, like those of the eastern world had several long feathers growing from its tail, and stretching away gracefully behind it. In the cage were also finches of different varieties, and beauti- ful, bright plumage. Among others were the green bird, the redstart, and the cock of the woods ; the little blue bird also, the red-winged starling, and the orange-headed troupiale— which last species migrated in large flocks into the valley. There was a number of small cages, which had been con- structed for the smallest of all birds — the hummingbirds — and Frank had caught no less than a dozen different kinds of these 196 THE DESERT HOMl:.. most beautiful creatures which he daily supplied with i^ish flowers. Another cage, apart from all the rest, held an in- mate that, so far as appearance went, you would have said had no right to be thus distinguished in having a house all to himself. He was of a sober, gray color, somewhat of the wagtail shape, with long, black legs, and claws of a dirty hue ; and was altogether an ill-favored bird, not any better looking than a common house-sparrow. Had you known nothing more about him than his outward appearance, you would hardly have deigned to waste a second look upon him. The moment, however, his black bill was opened, and his lead- colored throat became expanded in a song, you forgot all about the dull hue of his plumage. You all at once forgot the bright wings of the paroquet, and the beautiful form of the oriole ; the red bird, the blue jay, and the wakon were alike forgotten, and you gazed upon this sweet musician with delight and admiration. As you continued to listen, you would notice that he mimicked almost every sound that occurred within hearing. When any of the others commenced to sing, he would catch the strain, as it were, from their lips, and, giving it in a far higher and bolder tone, shame them into silence. This, I need hardly tell you, was the famous mock bird — ^the nightingale of America. " While Frank was daily increasing his stock of winged creatures, Harry was not idle among the quadrupeds. No less than five kinds of squirrels had been caught and caged. These were the gray, black and red, or fox varieties of the tree-squirrel, and two species of ground-squirrel — one the common hackee, or chipping squirrel ; while the other was a new species, which we had caught on the desert plain above, among the roots of the artemisia plant. This last was a beautiful little creature, not much larger than a mouse, and striped like a little zebra. It has never — as far as I can tell — been described by naturalists ; and on this account, as well as from its peculiar size and beauty, it was a general favorite with all of us, particularly with I.uisa and Mary, in WlK>se laps it soon learned to sleep, like a tamed mousis* THE DESERT HOME. I9) "Besides the squirrels, Harry's collection embraced a hare and a couple of raccoons. These last were the produce of a night hunt or two which Cud jo had made with the dogs ; and, although these fox-like animals were by no means useful pets, yet they gave a variety to our collection, and added to our amusement in the observation of their curious habits." 19$ THE DESERr HOME. CHAPTER XXX. THE BITERS BIT. ** OuK next was a fishing excursion. As I have said, Cudjo had already discovered that our stream contained fish, and had caught several of them. They were something like Salmon- trout, although dilfering considerably from that species in color. Nevertheless, they were very delicious eating, and we were all very fond of them. *' We set forth in the morning, but on this occasion we le^" Pompo and his cart behind, as we had not far to go — only a short distance down the stream, where Cudjo knew a large pool in which the fish were plenty. We took with us lines, made out of the wild flax that grows in the valley, and which, Mary tells us, is found in all countries that border upon the Rocky Mountains. k)uY rods were long, tapering -canes, which we had in abunaance around us. For hooks, we used pins bent into the proper shape ; and our bait con- sisted of a variety of worms. All these things w^ere carried by Harry and Frank, w^iile Cudjo and I took the younger ones in our arms, and Mary w^as left free to botanize as we passed along. Castor and Pollux accompanied us, of course ; and Pompo, as he saw us leave the house, ran neighing around his enclosure, as if quite vexed at our leaving him behind. Cudjo. of course, became our guide, taking us through the woods to that part of the stream where was his favorite fishing ground. " After traveling at our leisure about a quarter of a mile, we were all brought to a sudden halt by an exclamation from my wife, who stood pointing at some trees a little to one side of the path. ** * What, mamma 1 ' cried Harry, another fine tree ? Why, THE DESERT HOME. I99 the real bread fruit and the cocoanuts will turn up yet, I believe, in spite of the latitude.*' " ' I am sorry for your sake, Harry,' replied his mamma, * as well as our own, that I have not made the discovery of another fine tree. No ; it is quite another thing, and not a very useful discovery. But it may be curious to you ; and papa, here, can read you a chapter of natural history upon it. It is in his line. It is a four-footed animal' " 'Animal ! ' exclaimed Harry ; * I see no animal. Where is it, mamma ? ' " ' Nor do I,' replied his mother; *but I see indications of the presence of one, and a very destructive one, too. Look there ! ' " As Mary said this, she pointed to a grove of young Cottonwood trees, from which the bark and leaves were stripped off as cleanly as if they had been gnawed by goats, or scraped with a knife. Some of the trees were quite dead ; while others of them were freshly peeled, and only waited for a little time to decay them. " * O, I see what you mean now, mamma,' said Harry. * Some animal has done this — but what one ? The beavers cannot climb ; and I am sure neither squirrels, raccoons, nor opossums would take the bark from trees in that manner." " * No ; it was none of them. Your papa can best inform you what sort of animal has been so destructive to these young trees, which, you perceive, are of the beautiful cotton- wood species, thQ populus angulatus of botanists.' " ' Come, Harry,' said I, * let us first find the animal, if we can.' " We all turned towards the leafless grove. We had not walked many steps in that direction, when the very animal we were in exarch of appeared on the ground before us. It was quite three feet long, thick, and broad in the back, and arched from the nose to the tail. It was of a speckled, gray color, but with the roughest coat of hair that could possibly be imagined. Its head and nose were very small for the 200 THE DESERT HOME. size of its body ; and its short, stout legs, with their long claws, were scarcely visible under the thick, shaggy hair. Its ears were also buried under the hair ; and it looked more like a round, tufted mass than an animal. It was down upon the ground, and had evidently perceived our approach, as it was making off through the grass as fast as it could. That, however was not very fast, — not faster than a frog could go, — for the animal in question is one of the very slowest travelers. " As soon as I caught sight of it, and saw that it was upon the ground, — and not among the branches, where I had ex- pected to find it, — I turned round to secure the dogs. I was too late, for these unreasoning animals had already seen it, and, forgetful of the lesson which the skunk had taught them, were dashing forward in full cry. I endeavored to call them off ; but, heedless of our shouts, both rushed on the strange creature at once. The latter, seeing them approach, im- mediately stopped, buried its head under its breast, seemed suddenly to swell upward and outward to twice its natural size — while its rough, thick tail was brandished from side to side in a furious and threatening manner. " We could all now see that that which had appeared to be coarse, thick hair was nothing else than long, bristling spines ; and Harry at once cried out, — " * A porcupine 1 a porcupine 1 ' " The dogs, unfortunately for themselves, did not know ■what it was ; nor did they stop to consider, but dashed upon it, open-mouthed, as they usually do with any strange animal. They did not hold it long, for the next moment they dropped it, and came running back more open-mouthed than ever, — uttering the most piteous howls, — and we saw that their noses, lips, and jaws were sticking full of the sharp quills 1 Meanwhile, the porcupine again stretched himself out and, crawling to the foot of a tree, commenced climbing up. But Cudjo, who was highly offended with the treatment which his favorites had received, rushed after, and, knocking down the animal with his spear, soon despatched him. THE DESERT HOME. 201 " Harry, who had grown much wiser since his adventure with the skunk, was rather shy of approaching the porcupine -particularly as he had heard that this animal possesses the power of shooting his quills to some distance, and stick- ing them like arrows mto his enemies. Harry inquired if this were true. " ' No,' I replied ; * it is only one of those fabulous stories which the ingenious French naturalist Buffon so much de- lighted to recount. The porcupine's quills may be pulled out easily by anything which presses too rudely against them, such as the mouth of a mastiff ; and this because they are very slightly attached by their roots, and have a barb upon their tops that takes hold upon any enemy that may attempt to touch them. This is the only defense the poor animal has got, as it is so slow of foot that any of its enemies can easily come up with it. But, notwithstanding its slowness, most of the fierce creatures find it better to leave the por- cupine to himself, and his innocent occupation of ' barking ' the trees. He generally proves more than a match for any of them ; and, in fact, neither wolf, panther, nor wildcat, can kill him, as there is not a spot of his body which they can touch when he prepares himself for their attack. On the other hand, he frequently kills them ; only in self-defense, however, as he never attacks any animal, but lives alto- gether on his simple food — the bark and leaves of trees. The cougar is often found dead in the woods, his death oc- casioned by the procupine's quills that are seen sticking in his mouth and tongue. So also the lynx has been found, as well as many dogs and wolves.' " So much of the natural history of this strange animal I related to my companions at the time ; but, shortly after, an incident was witnessed by Harry and myself, which showed us that the porcupine, notwithstanding his bristling armor, had one enemy, at least, who could master him upon oc- casions. Although it occurred some months after our fishing excursion, now that we are speaking of the porcupine, I shaU r«l*t«il," _ 203 TU£ DESERT HOME. CHAPTER XXXI. BATTLE OF THE MARTEN AND PORCUPINE. " It was in the middle o. '.j winter. A light snow had fallen upon the ground — just enough to enable us to follow the trail of any animal we might light upon. Of course, the snow filled us with the idea of hunting ; and Harry and I started out upon the tracks of a brace of elk that had passed through our opening during the night. The tracks were very fresh looking ; and it was evident that the animals had passed in the morning, just before we were up. We con- cluded, therefore, that they had not gone far off ; and we hoped soon to come up with them. '' The trail led us along the side of the lake, and then up the left bank of the stream. Castor and Pollux- were with us ; but in our hunting excursions we usually led them in a leash, so that they might not frighten the game by running ahead of us. " When about half a mile from the house, we found that the elk had crossed to the right bank of the stream. We were about to follow, when all at once our eyes fell upon a most singular track or tracks that led off into the woods. They were the tracks of human feet — the feet of children !. " So thought we, at first sight of them ; and you may fancy the surprise into which we were suddenly thrown. They were about five inches in length, and exactly such as would have been made by a barefooted urchin of six years old. There appeared to be two sets of them, as if two children had passed, following one another on the same trail. What could it mean ? After all, were there human beings in the valley besides ourselves ? Could these be the footprints of two young Indians ? All at once I thought of THE DESERT HOME. 203 the Diggers— -the Yamparicos — the root eaters — who are found in almost every hole and corner of the American Des- ert. Could it be possible that a family of these wretched creatures existed in the valley ? ' Quite possible,' thought I, when I reflected upon their habits. Living upon roots, in- sects, and reptiles, burrowing in holes and caves like the wild animals around them, — a family or more might have been living all this time in some unexplored corner of the valley, without our having encountered any trac^es of them. Was this really so ? and were the tracks before us the foot- marks of a brace of young Diggers who had been passing from point to point ? *' Of course, our elk hunt was given up until this mystery should be solved ; and we turned off from the trail of the latter to follow that of the children. In coming out to an open place, where the snow lay smoothly, and the footprints appeared well defined, I stooped down to examine them more minutely, in order to be satisfied that they were the tracks of human feet. Sure enough, there were the heels, the regular widening of the foot near the toes and the toes, themselves, all plainly stamped upon the snow. Here, however, arose another mystery. On countv ing the toes, I found that in some of the tracks there were five, — as there should have been, — while in oAors there were only four ! This led me to examine the print of the toes more carefully ; and I now saw that each of them was armed with a claw, which on account of some hairy covering, had made but a very indefinite impression in the snow. The tracks, then, were not the footmarks of diil- dren, but those of some animal with claws. " Notwithstanding that we had come to this corgclusion, we still continued to follow the trail. We were curious to see what sort of a creature had made it. Perhaps it might be some animal unknown to naturalists — some new species ; and we might one day have the merit of being the first to describe it. We had not far to go : a hundred yards or so brought us in sight of a grove of young cottonwoods ; and 204 THE DESERT HOME. these, we saw at a glance, were * barked ' by a porcupine. The whole mystery was cleared up — we had been following in the trail of this animal. " I now remembered that the porcupine was one of the plantigrade family, with five toes on his hind feet, and only four on the fore orhes. The track? were undoubtedly his. " My companion and I were somewhat chagrined at being thus drawn away from our hunt by such an insignificant ob- ject ; and we vowed to take vengeance upon the porcupine, as soon as we should set our eyes upon him. We were not long in doing this, for, as we stple quietly forward, we caught sight of a shaggy animal moving among the branches of a tree about fifty yards ahead of us. It was he, of course. At the same moment, however, another animal * hove in sight, * in appearance as dieffrent from the porcupine as a bull from a bluebottle. ''This creature —tail and all — was not less than a yard Mid a quarter in length, and yet its body was not thicker than the upper part of a man's arm. Its head was broad and somewhat flattened, with short, erect ears and pointed nose. It was bearded like a cat, although the face had more of the dog in its expression. Its legs were short and strong ; and both legs and body denoted the possession of agility and strength. It was of a reddish-brown color, with a white mark on the breast, and darker along the back and on the legs, faet, nose, and tail. Its whole appearance re- minded one of a gigantic weasel, — which in fact it was, — the great marten of America, generally, though improperly, oalled the 'fisher.* When we first saw 't, it was crouching along a high log that ran directly .owards "the tree, upon which was the porcupine. Its eyes were fixed intently upon the latter ; and it. was evidently meditating an attack. We stopped to watch it. " The porcupine had not yet perceived his enemy, as he was busily engaged in splitting the bark from the cottoiv wood. The marten, after reconnoitring him for some mo- ments, sprang off from the log, and canae running towards THE DESERT HOME. 205 the tree. The other now saw him, and at the same instant uttered a sort of shrill, querulous cry, and appeared to be greatly affrighted. To our astonishment, however, instead of remaining where it was, it suddenly dropped to the ground, almost at the very nose of its adversary 1 I could not, at first, understand the policy of this strange tactic on the part of the porcupine ; but a moment's reflection convinced me it was sound policy. The marten would have been as much at home on the tree as himself ; and had he remained among the branches — which were slender ones, — his throat and the under part of his body — both of which are soft, and without quills — would have been exposed to the teeth of his adver- sary. This, then was why he had let himself down so un- expectedly ; and we noticed that the instant he touched the ground, he rolled himself into a round clew, presenting on all sides the formidable chevaiix-de-frise of his quills. " The marten now ran around him, doubling his long, vermiform body with great activity — at intervals showing his teeth, erecting his back, and snarling like a cat. We ex- pected every moment to see him spring forward upon his victim ; but he did not do so. He evidently understood the peril of such an act ; and appeared for a moment puz- zled as to how he should proceed. All this while, the por- cupine lay quiet — except the tail. This was, in fact, the only * feature ' of the animal that could be seen, as the head and feet were completely hidden under the body. The tail, however, was kept constantly in motion — jerked from side to side, and flirted occasionally upwards. " What would the marten do ? There was not an inch of the other's body that was not defended by the sharp and barbed quills — not a spot where he could insert the tip of his nose. Would he abandon the contest ? So thought we, for a while ; but we were soon convinced of our error. " After running around several times, as we have de- scribed, he at length posted himself near the hind quarters of the porcupine, and with his nose a few inches from the tftil of the latter. In this position he stood for some mo- 2o6 THE DESERT HOME. ments, apparently watching the tail, which still continued to oscillate rapidly. He stood in perfect silence, and without making a movement. " The porcupine, not being able to see him, and perhaps til inking that he was gone, now waved his tail more slowly, and then suffered it to drop motionless. " This was what the other was waiting for ; and, the next moment, he had seized the tail in his teeth. We saw that he held it by the tip, where it is destitute of the tliorny spines. " What would he do next ? Was he going to bite off the end of the porcupine's tail? No such thing. He had a different game from that to play as we soon witnessed. " The moment he caught the tail, the porcupine uttered its querulous cries; but the marten, heeding not these, com- menced walking backward, dragging the other after him. Where was he dragging it to ? We soon saw. He was pull- ing it to a tree close by, with low branches, that forked out near the ground. ' But for what purpose ? ' thought we. We wondered as we watched. " The porcupine could offer no resistance. Its feet gave way, and slipped along the snowy ground ; for the marten was evidently the much stronger animal. " In a short time, the latter had reached the tree, drag- ging the other after him to its foot. He now commenced ascending, still holding the porcupine's tail in his teeth, and taking precious care not to brush too closely to the quills. ' Surely,' thought we, ' he cannot climb up, carrying a body almost as big as himself, in that manner ! ' It was not his intention to climb up, — only to one of the lowermost branches, — and the next moment he had reached it, stretching his long body out on the limb, and clutching it fiimly with his cat-like ctaws. He still held fast hold of the porcupine's tail, which animal was now lifted into such a position that only its fore quarters rested on the ground, and it appeared to stand upon its head, all the while uttering its pitiful cries. " For the -life of us, we could not guess what the marten THE DESERT HOIME. 207 meant by all this maneuvering. He knew well enough, as he gave proof the moment after. When he had got the other, as it were, on a balance, he suddenly sprang back to the ground, in such a direction that the impetus of his leap jerked the porcupine upon its back. Before the clumsy creature was able to turn over and ' clew ' itself, the active weasel had pounced upon its belly, and buried his claws in the soft flesh, while, at the same time, his teeth were made fast in the throat ! " In vain the porcupine struggled. The other rode him with such agility, that he was unable to get right side up again ; and in a few moments the struggle would have ended by the porcupine's throat being cut ; but we saw that it was time for us to interfere ; and, slipping Castor and Pollux from the leash, we ran forward. " The dogs soon drove the marten from his victim, but he did not run from them. On the contrary, he turned round upon them, keeping them at bay with his sharp teeth and fierce snarling. In truth, they would have had a very tough job of it, had we not been near ; but, on seeing us approach, the animal took to a tree, running up it like a squirrel. A rifle bullet soon brought him down again ; and his long body lay stretched out on the earth, emitting a strong odor of musk, thai was quite disagreeable. " On returning to the porcupine, — which our dogs took care not to meddle with, — we found the animal already better than half dead. The blood was running from its throat, which the marten had torn open. Of course, we put the creature out of pain, by killing it outright ; and taking the marten along with us. for the purpose of skinning it, we returned homeward, leaving the elk hunt for another day. " All this, as I have said, occurred afterwards. Let us now return to the narrative of our fishing excursion. " As soon as the porcupine had been disposed of we were reminded of the sufferings of our dogs who had ceased their howling, but required to be relieved of the barbed spines with which their lips were sticking full. We drew 2o8 THE DESERT HOME. them out as easily as we could ; but, notwithstanding this, their heads began to swell up to twice the natural size, and the poor brutes appeared to be in great pain. They were fairly punished for their inconsiderate rashness ; and it was not likely that they would run their noses against another porcupine for some time to comet" tHE DESERT HOME, tO^ CHAPTER XXXII. THE CUNNING OLD " 'cOON." "We now continued our journey towards our fishing ground, Cudjo having hung the porcupine to a \ ee, with the design of taking it home with him on our return. It was Cudjo's intention to skin it, and eat part or the whole? of it— a species of food which he assured us he had often eaten be- fore, and which tasted equal to young pig. None o/ us were likely to join Cudjo in such a meal ; but at all even.:s, thought we, when the quills and skin are removed, our dogs might get a morsel of it as a reward for their sufterings. This was an object, certainly ; as, out of our scanty larder, Castor and Pollux did not fare the best sometimes. " We soon arrived upon the bank of the creek and close to the pool. This was a long stretch of deep, dark water, with a high bank on one side, shadowed over with leafy trees. On the opposite side, the bank was low, and shelved down to the edge — while several logs lay along it, half covered with water and half of them stretching up against the bank. We took the high bank for our station, as upon this there was a spot of smooth, grassy turf, shaded by beautiful pal- metto trees, where the children could tumble about. Here Mary sat down with them, while the rest of us proceeded to fish. Of course, we could do no more than throw in our lines, and then wait until the fish should be fools enough to bite. We conversed very quietly, lest the noise of our talk- ing should frighten the fish, though this was only an imagi- nation of our own. We had not been watching our floats more than five minutes, when we noticed, here and there, a slight stir in the water ; and, in the midst of the little circles made by this, we could see small, black objects, not unlike »4 2 10 THE DESERT JlUME. the heads of snakes. At first, we took them for these, Cud jo, however, knew better than we what they were, for he had often seen them while fishing in the creeks of Virginia. " ' Golly, Massa ! ' cried he, as soon as they made their appearance ; ' de creek here am full ob de turtle.' " ' Turtles ! ' exclaimed Harry. " ' Yes, Massa Harry,' replied Cudjo ; ' and as dis nigga lib, de am de real soff-shell turtle ! Dat's de meat for dis child Cudjo, — better dan fish, flesh, fowl, or 'possum, — dat am de soff-shell.' " As Cudjo spoke, one of the turtles ' bobbed ' up nearly under where we sat ; and, from the elongated shape of its head,' resembling a sno>'t, and the flexible shell that bent up and down along its edges, as he swam, I saw it was a species of trio7iyx, or soft-shelled turtle — in fact, it was that known as trionyx fefox, the most prized of all thti turtle race for the table of the epicure. Here, then, was raiother luxury for us, as soon as we could catch them. " I turned round, and was on the point of asking Cudjo how this could be accomplished, when I saw that my float went suddenly down, and I felt a pull upon the line. I thought, of course, it was a fish, and commenced handling it ; but to my surprise, on bringing it to the surface, I perceived that I had hooked one of the turtles, and no doubt the same one which had looked up at us but a moment before. He was not a very large one, and we soon landed him ; when Cudjo secured him, simply by turning him over upon his back. As I learned from Cudjo, these creatures will eagerly bite at anything that may be thrown into the water and appears strange to them. Of the truth of this, we had a curious dem- onstration shortly afterwards. " In a few minutes more, each of us had taken several good-sized fish, and we still continued watching our rods in silence, when our attention was attracted to the movements of an animal upon the opposite bank, and about one hundred yards below where we sat. We were all well acquainted THE DESERT HOME. 211 with this animal ; and Harry, the moment he saw it, whis- pered, — " ' Look, papa ! mamma I a 'coon ! * " Yes, it was a raccoon. There was no mistaking the broad, dark-brown back, the sharp, fox-looking face and snout, and the long, bushy tail, with its alternate rings of black and yellowish white. The short, thick legs, the erect ears, and the white and black marks of the face, were fa- miliar to all of us — for the raccoon is one of the best-known animals in America, and we had it among our pets. " At the sight of the ' coon,' Cudjo's eyes fairly glistened, for there is no animal that affords so much sport to the negroes of the United States as the 'coon ; and he is, there- fore, to them as interesting a. creature as the fox to the red- coated hunters of England. Hunting the raccoon is one of the principal amusements which the poor slave enjoys, in the beautiful, moonlight nights of the Southern States, after he has got free from his hard toil. By them, too, the flesh of the 'coon is eaten, although it is not esteemed much of a dainty. The 'possum is held in far higher estimation. Cudjo's eyes, then, glistened as soon as he set them upon his old and familiar victim. " The 'coon all this while had seen none of us, else he would soon have widened the distance between us and him- self. He was crawling cautiously along the bank of the creek now hopping up on a log, and now stopping for a while, and looking earnestly into the water. " * De ole 'coon go to fish,* whispered Cudjo ; * dat's what he am after.' " ' Fish ? ' said Harry. " * Yes, Massa Harry. He fish for de turtle.* " * And how will he catch them ? ' inquired Harry. " ' Golly, Massa Harry, he catch 'em. Wait ; you see.* "'We all sat quietly watching his maneuvers, and curiouS to witness how he would catch the turtles ; for none of us, with the exception of Cudjo, knew how. We knew that.it was not likely he would leap at them in the water, for thes© 212 THE DESERT HOME. animals can dive as quickly as a fish ; besides, they can bite very severely, and would be sure to take a piece out of the 'coon's skin, should he attack them in their own element. But that was not his intention, as we presently saw. Near the end of one of the logs that protruded into the water, we observed the heads of several turtles moving about on the surface. The raccoon saw them also, for he was stealthily approaching this log with his eyes fixed upon the swimming reptiles. On reaching it, he climbed upon it with great silence and caution. He then placed his head between his fore legs, and, turning his tail towards the creek, commenced crawling down the log, tail foremost. He proceeded slowly, bit by bit, until his long, bushy tail hung over several inches into the water, where he caused it to move gently backwards, and forwards. His body was rolled up into a sort of clew, until one could not have told what sort of a creature was on the log. •• He had not remained many moments in this attitude, when one of the turtles, swimming about, caught sight of the moving tail, and, attracted partly by curiosity, and partly in hopes of getting something to eat, approached, and seized hold of the long hair in his horny mandibles. But he had scarce caught it before the 'coon unwound himself upon the log ; and at the same time, with a sudden and violent jerk of his tail, plucked the turtle out of the water, and flung him high and dry upon the bank. Then following after, in three springs, he was beside his victim, which, with his long, sharp nose, he immediately turned over upon its back, taking care all the while to avoid coming in contact with the bill- like snout of the turtle. The latter was now at the mercy of the 'coon, who was proceeding to demolish him in his usual fashion ; but Cudjo could stand it no longer, and away went he and the dogs, with loud shouts, across the creek. " The chase was not a long one ; for, in a few seconds, the steady barking of the dogs told us that poor * 'coony ' was * treed.' Unfortunately for himself, he had run up a very low tree, where Cudjo was able to reach him with his long tHE DESERT HOME. 3l3 spear ; and when the rest of us got forward to the spot, we found that Cudjo had finished him, and was holding him up by the tail, quite dead. " We now went back to our fishing ; and although we caught no more of the turtles, we succeeded in taking as many fish as we wanted ; and, returning to the house, Mary cooked for us a most excellent fish dinner which we all ale with a keen appetite." £14 THE DiiSLRT HOME. CHAPTER XXXIII. LITTLE MARY AND THE BEE. '• During the winter, we saw very little of our beavers. Through the cold season, they lay snug in their houses — al- though not in a state of torpidity, as the beaver does not be- come torpid in winter. He only keeps within doors, and spends most of his time in eating and sleeping ; but he goes out of his house at intervals, to wash and clean himself ; for the beaver is an animal of very precise habits. He is not compelled, however, to go abroad in search of food. As we have seen, he lays up a stock, which serves him throughout the cold season. " For several weeks, in midwinter, the dam r.as frozen over, with ice strong enough to bear our weight ; and we visited the houses oi the beavers, that stood up like so many hay- stacks. We found them so hard and firm, that we could climb upon them, and pounce down upon their tops, without the least danger of breaking them in. In fact, it would have been anything but an easy task to have opened one of them from above ; and no animal — not even the wolverene, with his crooked claws — could have done it. We observed that, in every case, the doors were far below the ice, so that the entrance still remained open to the animals within ; and, more- over, when any one stamped heavily upon the roof, through the clear ice we could see the frightened creatures making their escape, by darting off into the water. Sometimes we remained to see if they would return, but in no instance did they come back. At the time, we wondered at this — as we knew they could not possibly live under the ice, where there wa-s no air. We soon fuund, however, that these cunning t»^^tures knew what they were about, and that they had al- THE DESERT HOME. 215 ready provided means to escape from the danger of h>eing drowned in this manner. Along one side of the dam there was a bank, that rose considerably above the water, and into this bank they had made large holes, or, as they are termed, ' washes.' These were so constructed that the entrances to them could not be frozen up ; and we found that, whenever the beavers were disturbed or frightened from their houses, they invariably betook themselves to these washes, where they could crawl quietly up above the surface of the water, and breathe in safety. " This was the proper season to trap the beaver, as their fur is more valuable in winter than at any other time ; but, as I have already said, it was not our intention to disturb them, until they should become very numerous. " The ice upon the dam was exceedingly smooth, and, of course, suggested the idea of skates. Both Frank and Harry were very fond of this amusement, and, indeed, I was rather partial to it myself. " Skates, then, must be had, at all cost; and again we had recourse to the bois d'arc, the wood of which was suflEiciently light and compact for our purpose. Cudjo, with his hammer and a good hickory fire soon drew out the shoeing for them, making it very thin — as our stock of iron consisted in what we had taken from the body of the wagon, and was, of course, very precious, and not to be wasted upon articles designed merely for amusement. However, we knew it would not be lost upon the skates ; and we could take it from them, whenever we should want to apply it to a more useful purpose. In a short tkne, we had three pairs ; and, strapping them firmly to our feet with strips of deer-skin, were soon gliding over the dam, and spinning around the beaver houses, no doubt to the great wonderment of suck of the animals as came out under the ice to look at us. Mary, with Cudjo and the children, stood watching us from the shore, and clapping their hands with delight. " With these and such like innocent recreations, we passed the winter very agreeably. It was but a very short winter •, 2l6 THE DESERT HOME. and as soon as the spring returned, Cudjo with his wooden plow, turned up our Httle field, and we planted our corn. It occupied nearly an acre of ground ; and we had now the pleasant prospect that, in six weeks' time, we should gather about fifty bushels. We did not neglect our hundred grains of wheat, but sowed that carefully in a corner by itself. You may fancy that it did not take up much ground. Mary had also her garden, with beds of wild potatoes, and other roots, which she had discovered in the valley. One of these was the species of turnip already mentioned as XhQpof?ime-b/a/ic/ie, or Indian turnip. She had found wild onions too, which proved of great service in soup-making. In her garden were many others, of which I only know the names ; but three of them, the ' kamas,' the kooyah,' and ' yampah,' roots are worth mentioning, as thousands of the miserable Indians who inhabit the American Desert subsist chiefly on them. The widely-scattered tribes known as the ' Diggers ' take their name from the fact of their digging for, and living upon, these roots. " The flowers now came out in full bloom ; and some of the openings near the upper end of the valley were a sight to behold. They were literally covered with beautiful blos- soms — 77talvas, deomes asckpias, and helianthi. We fre- quently visited this part, making picnic excursions to all the places of note in our little dominion. The cataract where the stream dashed over the cliff, the salt spring, and such like places, formed points of interest ; and we rarely failed in any of these excursions to draw some useful lesson from the school of nature. Indeed, Mary and I frequently de- signed them, for the purpose of instructing our children in such of the natural sciences as we ourselves knew. We had no books, and we illustrated our teachings by the objects around us. ■ " One day we had strayed up, as usual, among the open- ings. It was very early in the spring, just as the flowers were beginning to appear. We had sat down to rest ourselves in the middle of a glade, surrounded by beautifu- magno- THE DESERT HOME. 21/ lias. There was a bed of large blue flowers close by ; and Frank, taking little Mary by the hand, h :1 gone in among them to gather a bouquet for his mother. All at once the child uttered a scream, and then continued to cry loudly. Had she been bitten by a snake ? Alarmed at the thought, we all started to our feet, and ran for the spot. The little creature still cried — holding out her hand, which we at once perceived was the seat of the pain. The cause of it was evident — she had been stung by a bee. No doubt she had clasped a flower upon which some bee had been making his honey, and the angry insect had punished such a rude inter- ference with his pleasures. " As soon as the child had been pacified by a soothing application to the wound, a train of reflection occurred to the minds of all of us. * There are bees, then, in the place,' said we. We had not known this fact before. In the au- tumn previous we had been too busy with other things to notice them and, of course, during the winter season they were not to be seen. They were just now coming out for the earty spring flowers, "It was natural to infer that where there were bees, there should also be honey ; and the word * honey ' had a magic sound in the ears of our little community. Bees and honey now became the topic of conversation ; and not a sen- tence was uttered for some minutes that did not contain an allusion to bees, or bees' nests, or bee trees, or bee hunters, or honey. " We all scattered among the flowers to assure ourselves that it really was a bee, and not some rascally wasp, that had wounded our little Mary. If it was a bee, we should find some of his companions roaming about among the blossoms of the helianthus. " In a short time, Harry was heard crying out, * A bee ! a bee ! ' and almost at the same instant Frank shouted, ' An- other 1 ' ' Hya ! hya ! ' cried Cudjo, * hyar's de oder one — see 'im ! — biz-z-z. Gollies 1 how he am loaded with de wax ! ' " Two or three others were now discovered, all busily ply 2l8 'THE DESERT HOME. ing their industrious calling, and proving that there was one hive, at least, in some part of the valley. " The question now arose, how this hive was to be found. No doubt it was in some hollow tree — but how were we to tind this tree, standing as it likely did among hundreds of others, and not differing from the rest in appearanc e ? This was the question that puzzled us. '' It did not puzzle all of us, though. Fortunately, there chanced to be a bee-hunter among us, a real old bee-hunter, and that individual was our famous Cudjo. Cud ^o had ' treed ' bees many'sthe time in the woods of ' Ole Vaginny,' and cut down the trees, too, and licked the honey — for Cudjo was as sweet upon honey as a bear. Yes, Cudjo had ' treed ' bees many's the time, and knew how — that did Cudjo. " We should have to return to the house, however, to en- able him to make ready his implements ; and as the day was now pretty far advanced, we determined to leave our bee hunting for the morrow.'' THE DEbEKT HOME. 219 CHAPTER XXXIV. A GRAND BEE HUNT. ^ t^exT day we had a warm, sunshiny day — just such a orxe as would bring the bees out. After breakfast, we all set torrn tor the openings, in high spirits at the prospect of the sport we should have. Harry was more eager than any of us. He had heard a good deal about bee-hunters, and was very desirous of knowing how they pursued their craft. He could easiiv understand how, when a bee tree was once found, ir could be cut down with an ax, and split open, and the honey taken irom it. All this would be very easily done. But how were bee trees found ? That was the puzzle, for, as I have before observed, these trees do not differ in ap- pearance from otaers around them ; and the hole by which the bees enter is usually so high up, that' one cannot see these little nisects irom the ground. One ii^ight tell it to be a bee's nesr,, if his attention were called to \ ; for the bark around the entrance, like that of the squirrel's, is always discolored, lu consequence of the bees alighting upon it with their moist 1 jet. bur then, one may travel a long while through the woods before chancing to notice this. Bee- trees are sometimes found by accident ; but the regular bee- hunter does not depend upon this, else his calling would be a very uncertain one. There is no accident in the way he goes to work. He see/^s for the nest, and is almost sure to find it — provided the ground be open enough to enable him to execute his maneuvers. I may here remark, that, where- ever bees take uptlicir abode, there are generally open tracts in their neighborhood, or else flower-bearing trees — since in very thick woods, unc'cr the deep, dark shadow of the foli- age, flowers are more x -^re, and consequently the food of the i2b THE DESERT HOME. bees more difficult to be obtained. These creatures love the bright glades and sunny openings, often met with in the prairie k)rests of the wild west. "Well, as I have said, we were all eager to witness how our bee-hunter, Cudjo, would set about finding the bee-tree — for up to this time he had kept the secret to himself, to the great tantalization of Harry, whose impatience had now reached its maximum of endurance. The implements which Cudjo had brought along with him — or, as he called them, the ' fixins ' — were exceedingly simple in their character. They consisted of a drinking-glass,— fortunately, we had one that had traveled safely in our own great mess chest, — a cupful of maple molasses, and a few tufts of white wool taken from the tail of a rabbit. ' How was he going to use these things?' thought 'Harry, and so did we all — for none of us knew anything of the process, and Cudjo seemed determined to keep quiet about his plans, until he should give us a practical illustration of them. " At length we arrived at the glades, and entered one of the largest of them, where we halted. Pompo was taken from the cart, and picketed upon the grass ; and we all followed Cudjo, observing every movement that he made. Harry's eyes were on him like a lynx, for he feared lest Cudjo might go through some part of the operation without his seeing or understanding it. He watched him, therefore, as closely as if Cudjo had been a conjurer and was about to perform some trick. The latter said nothing, but went silently to work — evidently not a little proud of his peculiar knowledge, and the interest which he was exciting by it. •' There was a dead log near one edge of the opening. To this the bee-hunter proceeded, and, drawing out his knife, scraped off a small portion of the rough bark, so as to render the surface smooth and even. Only a few sciuare inches of the log were thus polished and Leveled. 1 hot would be enough for his purpose. Upon the spot thus prepared, I'ke poured out a quantity of the molasses, — a small quantity, — forming a little circle about the size of a penny piece. He THE DESERT HOME. 221 next took the glass, and wiped it with the skirt of his coat until it was as clear as a diamond. He then proceeded among the flowers in search of a bee. ~ " O.ne was soon discovered nestling upon the blossom of a helianthus. Cudjo approached it stealthily, and with an adroit movement, inverted the glass upon it, so as to enclose both bee and flower ; at the same instant one of his hands — upon which was a strong buckskin glove — was slipped under the mouth of the glass, to prevent the bee from getting out ; and nipping the flower stalk between his fingers, he bore off both the bee and the blossom. " On arriving at the log, the flower was taken out of the glass by a dexterous movement, and thrown away. The bee still remained, buzzing up against the bottom of the glass — which, of course, was now the top, for Cudjo had held it all the while inverted on his palm. The glass was then set upon the log, mouth downwards, so as to cover the little spot of molasses ; and it was thus left, while we all stood around to watch it. " The bee, still frightened by his captivity, for some time kept circling around the upper part of the glass — seeking, very naturally, for an egress in that direction. His whirring wings, however, soon came in contact with the top of the vessel, and he was flung down right into the molasses. There was not enough of the ' treacle ' to hold him fast, but, having once tasted of its sweets, he showed no disposition to leave it. On the contrary, he seemed to forget all at once that he was a captive ; and thrusting his proboscis into the honeyed liquid, he set about drinking it like a good fellow. " Cudjo did not molest him until he had fairly gorged himself ; then, drawing him gently aside with the rim of the glass, he separated him from his banquet. He had removed his gloves, and cautiously inserting his na^e^h^Lud, he caught tlie bee — which was now somewhat heavy and stupid — be- between his thumb and forefinger. He then raised it from the log, and turning it breast upward, with his other hand he 222 THE DESERT HOME. attached a small tuft of the rabbit wool to the legs of the in- sect. The glutinous paste with which its thighs were loaded enabled him to effect this the more easily. The wool, which was exceedingly light, was now ' flaxed out,' in order to make it show as much as possible, while at the same time, it was so arranged as not to come in contact witii the wings of the bee and hinder its flight. All this did Cudjo with an expertness which surprised us, and would have surprised any one who was a stranger to the craft of the bee-hunter. He performed every operation with great nicety, taking care not to cripple the insect ; and, indeed, he did not injure it in the least — for Cudjo's fingers, although none of the smallest, were as delicate in the touch as those of a fine lady. " When everything was arranged, he placed the bee upon the log again, laying it down very gently. " The little creature seemed quite astounded at the odd treatment which he was receiving, and for a few seconds re- mained motionless upon the log ; but a warm sunbeam glanc- ing down upon it, soon restored it to its senses ; and, per- ceiving that it was once more free, it stretched its translucent wings, and rose suddenly into the air. It mounted straight upward, to a height of thirty or forty feet, and then com- menced circling around, as we could see by the white wool that streamed after it. " It was now that Cudjo's eyes rolled in good earnest. The puplis seemed to be dilated to twice their usual size, and the great balls appeared to tumble about in their sockets, as if there was nothing to hold them. His head, too, seemed to revolve, as if his short, thick neck had been suddenly converted into a well-greased pivot, and endowed with rotary motion. " After making several circles though the air, the insect darted off for the woods. We followed it with our eyes as long as we could ; but the white tuft was soon lost in the distance, and we saw no more of it. We noticed that it had gone in a straight line, which the bee always follows when THE DESERT HOME. 223 returning loaded to his hive — hence an expression often heurd m western America, the ' bee Une,'and which has its syno- nym in England in the phrase, 'as the crow flies.' Cudjo knew it would keep on in this line until it had reached the tree where its, nest was ; consequently, he was now in pos- session of one link in the chain of his discovery — the direc- tion of the bee-tree fro7n the point where ive stood. '' But would this be enough to enable him to find it ? Evi- dently VI ot. The bee might stop on the very edge of the woods, or it might go twenty yards beyond, or fifty, 01 perhaps a quarter of a mile, without coming to its tree. Il was plain, then, to all of us, that the line in which the tree hiy was not enough, as without some other guide one might have searched along this line for a week without finding the nest. '' All this knew Cudjo before ; and, of course, he did not stop a moment to reflect upon it then. He had carefully noted the direction taken by the insect, which he had as carefully ' marked ' by the trunk of a tree which grew on the edge of the glade, and in the line of the bee's flight. An- other ' mark ' was still necessary to record the latter and make things sure. To do this, Cudjo stooped down, and with his knife cut an oblong notch upon the bark of the log, which pointed lengthwise in the direction the bee had taken. This he executed with great precision. He next proceeded to the tree which he had used as a marker, and ' blazed ' it \v^ith his ax. " ' What next 1 ' thought we. Cudjo was not long in show- nig us what was to be next. Another log was selected, at a point at least two hundred yards distant from the former one. A portion of this was scraped in a similar manner, and molasses poured upon the clear spot as before. Another bee was caught, Imprisoned under the glass, fed, hoppled with woolj and then let go again. To our astonishment, this one flew off in a direction nearly opposite to that taken by the former. " ' Neber mind,' said Cudjo ; ' so much de better — two bee-tree better than one.' 22 4 THE DESERT HOME. " Cudjo marked the direction which the latter had taken, precisely as he had done with the other. " Without changing the log, a third bee was caught and ' put through.' This one took a new route, different from either of his predecessors. " ' GolUes ! Massa ! ' cried Cudjo ; ' dis valley am full ob honey. Three bee-trees at one stand ! ' And he again made his record upon the log. " A fourth bee was caught, and, after undergoing the ceremony, let go again. This one evidently belonged to the same hive as the first, for we saw that it flew towards the same point in the woods. The direction was carefully noted as before. A clew was now found to the whereabouts of one hive — that of the ^rsf and fourth bees. That was enough for the present. As to the second and third, the records which Cudjo had marked against them would stand good for the morrow or any other day ; and he proceeded to complete the ' hunt ' after the nest of Nos. i and 4. " We had all by this time acquired an insight into the meaning of Cudjo's maneuvers, and we were able to assist him. The exact point where the bee-tree grew was nov/ determined. It stood at the point where the two lines made by bees Nos. i and 4 met each other. It would be found at the very apex of this angle — wherever it was. But that was the next difficulty — to get at this point. There would have been no difficulty about it, had the ground been open, or so that we could have seen to a sufficient distance through the woods. This could have been easily accomplished by two of us stationing ourselves, — one at each of the two logs, — while a third individual moved along either of the lines. The moment this third person should appear on both lines at once, he would of course be at the point of intersection ; and at this point the bee-tree would be found. I shall ex- plain this by a diagram. " Suppose that A and C were the two logs, trom which the bees Nos. i and 4 had respectively taken their flight ; and suppose A B and C B to be the directions in which they THE DESERT HOME. 22$ haci ^one. If they went directly home, — whhh it was to be presumed they both did, — they would meet at their nest at some point B. This point could not be discovered by see- ing the bees meeting at it, for they were alrea'^ly lost sight of at short distances from A and C. But witho'it this, had the ground been clear of timber, we could easily have found it in the following manner : I should have placed myself at log A, while Cudjo stationed himself at C. We should then have sent one of the boys — say Harry — along the line A D. This, you must observe, is a fixed line, for D was already a] marked point. After reaching D, Harry should continue on, keeping in the same line. The moment, there- fore, that he came under the eye of Cudjo, — who would be all this while glancing along C E, also a fixed line, — he would then be on both lines at once, and consequently at their point of intersection. This, by all the laws of bee hunting, would be the place to find the nest ; and, as I have said, we could easily have found it thus, had it not been for the trees. But these intercepted our view, and therein lay the difficulty ; for the moment Harry should have passed the point D, where the underwood began, he would have been lost to our sight, and, of course, of no further use in establishing the point B. " For myself, I could not see clearly how this difficulty was to be got over — as the woods beyond D and E were thick and tangled. The thing was no puzzle to Cudjo, hov/- ever. He knew a way of finding B, and the bee-tree as well, and he went about it at once. " Placing one of the boys at the station A, so that he could see him over the grass, he shouldered his ax, and moved off along the line A D. He entered the woods at D, and kept on until he had found a tree from which both A and D were visible, and which lay exactly in the same line. This tree he * blazed.' He then moved a little farther, and blazed another, and another, — all on the continuation of the line A D,— nn- til we could hear him chopping away at a good distan ^e in the woods. Presently he returned to the point E ; and, y U 15 226 THE DESERT HOME. ing to one of us to stand for a moment at C, he conimeftt-ed * blazing ' backwards, on the continuation of C E. We now joined him — as our presence at the logs was no longer neces- sary to his operations. " At a distance of about two hundred yards from the edge of the glade, the blazed lines was seen to approach each other. There were several very large trees at this point. Cudjo's * instinct ' told him, that in one of these the bees had their nest. He flung down his ax ^t length, and rolled his eyes upwards. We all took part in the search, and gazed up trying to discover the little insects that, no doubt, were winging their way among the high branches. " In a few moments, however, a loud and joyful exclama- tion from Cudjo proclaimed that the hunt was over — the bee- tree was foimd ! *' True enough, there was the nest, or the entrance that led to it, away high up on a giant sycamore. We could see the discoloration on the bark, caused by the feet of the bees, and even the little creatures themselves crowding out and in. It was a large tree, with a cavity at the bottom big enough to have admitted a full-sized man, and, no doubt, hollow up to the place where the bees had constructed their nest. " As we had spent many hours in finding it, and the day was now well advanced, we concluded to leave further opera- tions for the morrow, when we should fell it, and procure the delicious honey. With this determination, and well satisfied with ovm: day's amusement, we returned to our house." THE DESERT HUME. 227 CHAPTER XXXV. A RIVAL HONEY ROBBER. " Now there were some circumstances to be considered, before we could proceed any further in the matter of the bees. How were we to get at the honey ? * Why, by felHng the tree, and spHtting it open, of course,' you will say. Well, that would have to be done, too ; but there was still another consideration. It is no very difhcult matter to fell a tree, and split it up, — that is, when one has a good ax, — but it is a very different affair to take the honeycombs from some eight or ten thousand bees, every one of them with a sharp sting in his tail. We had no brimstone ; and if we had had such a thing, they were well out of the reach of it, while the tree stood ; and after it should be felled, we could not ap- proach them. They would then be furious to a certainty. " But Cudjo's knowledge of bee hunting extended further than to the mere finding of the tree. He knew, also, how to humbug the bees, and rob them of their sweet honey. That was a part of the performance that Cudjo understood as well as any other. According to his directions, then, two pairs of stout buckskin gloves were prepared. We chanced to have one pair already, and Mary soon stitched up a second, of the kind generally used for weeding thistles — that is, hav- ing only a thumb, and a place for ail the fingers together. One pair of the gloves Cudjo intended to use himself — the other was for me. Of course, the rest were to take no part in the robbery, but only to stand at a safe distance and look on. " In addition to the gloves, a couple of masks were cut out of elk hide, and with strings fitted to our faces. These, with our thick deerskin oxercoats, would protect us against the stings of all the bees in creation, 228 >,IE DESERT HOME. " Thus accourered. then, or rather taking these articles along with us, we set g jt for the bee-tree. Of course, every- body went as usual. We took with us the ax to cut down the tree, and several vessels to hold the honey. " ' On arriving at the glade, we loosed Pompo out of the cart, and picketed him, as we had done the day before. It would not do to bring Aim any nearer the scene of action. as the bees might takw a fancy to revenge themselves by stinging him. We theu took our * fixings ' from the cart, and proceeded to the tree. In a few moments, we stood by its foot. " On looking up, we observed that there was an unusual commotion among the bees. They were whirring in large numbers around the entrance of their nest, and swarming out and in. As the day was very still, we could hear them buzzing loudly. What could it mean ? Were they going to hive? " Cudjo thought not. It was too early in the season for that. And yet their actions were strange. He could not understand it. " ' Dey look, Massa,' said he after gazing at them for some moments — ' dey look zackly like some varmint war a- vexin' ob 'em.' " So did they, but no ' varmint ' appeared to be near their hole ; and no animal, however thick in the skin, would have ventured into it, as we thought. The orifice was not over three inches in diameter, and we knew that neither squirrel, marten, nor weasel would have dared to put a nose into it. What, then, could have so excited them ? " We observed that it was a warm day, — the warmest we had had up to that time, — and probably the heat had set them a-going. With this explanation, therefore, in the ab- sence of a better, we remained satisfied, and commenced making our preparations to fell the tree. " It was not likely to be a difficult job. The tree, as I have said, was a hollow one ; and near the ground its trunk was nothing but a mere shell, which we could easily cut THE DESERT HOME. 229 through. So Cudjo went lustily to work with his ax ; and the white sycamore chips were soon flying in every direction. *' He had hardly made a dozen strokes, when w^e were startled by a singular noise, that sounded something like a 'cross, between a growl and a snort. 'i Cudjo immediately suspended his blows ; and we all stood gazing at each other with looks that betokened surprise and terror. I say terror — for the noise had something terrible in it ; and we knew it could have proceeded from nothing else than some large and fierce animal. Whence did it come ? — from the woods ? We looked anxiously around us, but no motion could be observed in the bramble. The underwood was thin ; and we could have seen a large animal at some distance, had such been there. " Again the horrid sound echoed in our ears. It appeared to issue out of the earth! No — it came out of the tt-ee ! " ' Golly ! ' exclaimed Cudjo ; ' it am a bar, Massa Roff ! I know him growl.' " 'A bear ! ' I ejaculated, catching the thought at the same moment. ' A bear in the bee-tree ! Run, Mary ! run for the glade ! ' — and I hurried my wife and children from the spot. Harry and Frank both wished to remain with their rifles, and I could hardly get them off. I induced them to go, at length, by telling them that they must stay near their mother and the little ones, to guard them in case the animal should come that way. All this occupied but a few seconds of time, and then Cudjo and I were left to ourselves. " It was evident that a bear was up the hollow of the tree, and hence the flurry among the bees. Cudjo's ax had disturbed him — he was coming down ! *' What was to be done ? Could we not close up the hole ? No — there was nothing — w^e should be too late ! " I seized my rifle, while Cudjo stood by with his ax. I cocked the piece, and made ready to fire the moment his head should appear. To our astonishment, instead of a head, a shapeless mass of shaggy, black hair made its ap- pearance, which we saw was the rump and hind quarters o; 230 THE DESERT HOME. the animal. He was coming down tail foremost — although not a bit of tail was to be seen, for he had none. " We did not stop to examine that. T fired as soon as his hips made their appearance, and almost at the same in- stant Cudjo deal them a hearty blow with his ax. It was enough to have killed him, as we thought ; but to our surprise, the hind quarters suddenly disappeared. He had gone up the tree again. " What next ? Would he turn himself in the hollow, and come down head foremost ? If so, my rifle was^empty, and Cudjo might miss his blow and let him pass out. *' All at once, my eye fell upon the two great deerskin coats that were lying on the ground close by. They would be large enough, properly rolled, to fill the mouth of the cavity. I threw aside my rifle, and laid hold of them. Cudjo assisted me. In a second or two, we had gathered them into a hard 'clump,' arid wedged them into the hole. They fitted it exactly. " We saw blood streaming down as we stuffed in the coats. The bear was wounded. It was not likely, then, that he would trouble us for a while ; and as one watched the coats, the other brought up great stones, which we piled against them, until we had made all secure. " We now ran around the tree, looking up the trunk, to assure ourselves that there was no opening above through which he might creep out and come down upon us. No, there was none, except the bee hole, and that was not big enough for his nose, sharp as it was. Bruin was fairly in the trap.' " I knew that Mary and the rest would be uneasy about us ; and I ran out to the glade to make known our success. The boys cheered loudly ; and we all returned together to the tree, as there was now no danger — no more than if there hadn't been a bear nearer to us than the North Pole. " We had him now, so that there was no fear of his escaping. But how were we to get at him ? — for we had determined to take his hfe. Such a fierce creature as this THE DKSEkl' IIO.MK. 23I must not be allowed to get off ; as he would soon have settled with one of us, had he met us on anything like equal terms. I had thought, at first, he might be a grizzly bear, and this had terrified me the more — for the killing of one of these fierce animals with a shot is next to an impossibility. When I re- flected, however, I knew it could not be this; for the 'grizzly,' unlike his sable cousin, is not a tree climber. It was the black bear, then, that we had got in the tree. " But how were we to reach him ? Leave him where he was, and let him starve to death ? No, that would never do. He would eat all the fine stock of honey ; if, indeed, he had not done so already. Moreover, he might scrape his way out, by enlarging the bee hole. This he could do with his great, sharp claws. We must therefore adopt some other plan. " It occurred to us that it was just probable he might be down at the bottom, poking his nose against the coats. We could not tell, for there was no longer any growling. He was either ^oo angry, or too badly scared, to growl— we could not say which. At all events, he was not uttering a sound. He might, nevertheless, be as close to us at the moment as he could get. If so, our plan would be to cut a small hole in the tree above him, so that we might reach him with a bullet from the rifle. This pk . was adopted, and Cudjo set to work to make the hole. " In a few minutes, the thin shell was penetrated, and we could see into the cavity. Bruin was nowhere visible — he was still up the tree. The < taste of our quality,' which he had had on his first descent, had evidently robbed hiin of all inclination to try a second. What next ? " ' Smoke 'im 1 ' cried Cudjo ; ' dat fotch 'im down.' " The very thing ; but how were we to do it ? By pushing dead leaves and grass through the hole Cudjo had cut, and tken setting them on fire. But our coats — they mi^ht be burnt. These we could first remove, putting great stones in their place ; and w^e proceeded to do so. In a few minutes, that was accomplished ; the grass and leaves were stuifed in ; some tufts were set on fire and thrust through ; more 2$2 THE DESERT HOME. rubbisli was piled on top, until it reached up on a level with the hole ; and then the hole was closed with a bundle of grass, so as to prevent the smoke from escaping. "In a few moments, we saw that everything was pro- gressing as we had intended it. A blue rope of smoke came oozing out of the bee hole, and the terrified bees swarmed out in clusters. We had not thought of this before, else we might have saved ourselves the trouble of making the gloves and masks. " Bruin now began to give tongue. We could hear him, high up the tree, snarling and growling fiercely. Every now and then he uttered a loud snort, that sounded very like an asthmatic cough. After a while, his growls changed into a whine, then a hideous moan, and then the sounds ceased alto- gether. The next moment we heard a dull concussion, as of a heavy body falling to the earth. We knew it was the bear, as he tumbled from his perch. ''We waited for some minutes. The was no longer any stir — no sound issued from the tree. We removed the grass from the upper hole. A thick volume of smoke rolled out. The bear must be dead. No creature could live in such an atmosphere. I introduced my ramrod through the opening. I could feel the soft, hairy body of the animal, but it was, limber and motionless. It was dead. Feeling convinced of this, at length, we removed the rocks below, and dragged it forth. Yes, the bear was dead — or, at all events, very like it; but, to make the thing sure, Cudjo gave him a knock on the head with his ax. His long, shaggy hair was literally filled with dead and dying bees that, like himself had been suffocated with the smoke, and had fallen from their combs. " We had hardly settled the question of the bear, when our attention was called to another circumstance, which was likely to trouble us. We perceived that the tree was on fire. The decayed heartwood that lined the cavity inside had caught fire from the blazing grass, and was now crack- ling away like fury. Our honey would be lost I TH^ DESERT HOME. 233 " * This was a grievous finale, after all — in short, a com- plete disappointment to our hopes, for we had calculated on having honey on our table at supper. " What could we do to save it ? But one thing, that waa evident — cut down the tree as quickly as possible, and then cut it through again between the fire and the bees' nest. " Should we have time for all this ? The fire was already high up ; and the draught, since we had opened the holes below, whizzed up the cavity, as through a funnel. " Seeing this, we closed them again ; and Cudjo went to work with his ax, cutting all around the tree. And the way he did ply that ax ! he seemed to have a wager against time. It was beautiful to see the style in which the chips flew. " At length the tree began to crack, and we all stood out from it, except Cudjo, who understood which way it would fall, and was not afraid of being crushed. Not he ; for Cudjo could * lay ' a tree wherever it was wanted, to the breadth of a hair. " '■ Cr-r-r-ack ! — cr-r-r-r-ash ! ' said the great sycamore ; and down it came, shivering its branches into a hundred sticks as it fell. " It had scarcely touched the ground, when we saw Cudjo attack it at another point with his ax, as though it were some great monster, and he was trying to cut off its head. '^ In a few minutes more, he had laid open the cavity, close to the combs ; and, to our great satisfaction, we saw that the fire had not 3'ct reached them. They were well smoked, however, and completely deserted by the bees; so that we used neither the masks nor gloves in gathering the honey. Bruin had been before us ; but he had not been long at his meal when we intruded upon him, as only one or two of the combs were missing. Enough was left. It was evidently a very old hive, and there was honey enough to fill all the vessels we had brought with us. " We bundled the bear into the cart, — as both his hams and skin were worth the trouble, — and leaving the old sycamore to burn out, we turned our faces homeward." 234 THE DESERl' HOME. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE EATTI.E OF THE BUCKS. " The main ol)ject we had in view was not yet acc«m- plished. With the exception of our flock of turkeys, none of the pets we had tamed coukl contribute to our support. vVe wished to capture some of the deer species, and for tliis purpose we had thought of various expedients. We Iiad seen the fawns once or twice following their mothers ; but we had failed in coming up with them, although we had made several hunting excursions for that purpose. At length, however, instead of a fawn, we very unexpectedly captured a couple of old bucks, of the red deer species. The circumstances of this capture were somewhat singular; and I shall detail them minutely as they occurred. " We had gone out one day, Harry and myself, in search of the deer, and in hopes that we might be able to start and run down a fawn with the dogs Castor and Pollux. For this we had muzzled both, so that they should not tear the fawn when they came up with it, as I had often seen grey- hounds muzzled at home for the same purpose. We went up the valley where we would be most likely to fall in with the objects of our search ; but not knowing how soon a deer might start out of the bushes, we walked along very silently and slowly, watching the woods before us, and listening to every sound. At length we arrived near the edge of a small opening, as we could tell by the clear breaks through the branches. It was in these glades or openings that we us- ually fell in with the deer ; and we advanced with increased caution, eacli of us holding a dog in the leash which we had made for them. All at once a singular noise reached our ears, evidently coming from the glade, It sounded as if THE DESERT IIU.ME. 235 several large animals were stamping furiously over the firm turf ; but in the midst of this there was a constant cracking of some hard substances, as if half a dozen men were playing with eagerness at the game of singlestick. Every now and then we could hear a strange sound, short and tierce, like the snorting of a horse. Of course, Harry and I stopped in our tracks the moment we first heard these singular noises. Our dogs cocked their ears, and wanted to spring forward ; but we held them both tightly on their strings, while we Ustened. For the life of us, neither I nor my companion could guess what was going on in the glade. " ' What can it be, papa ? ' said Harry, " ' I haven't the slightest idea,' replied I. " ' It must be animals,' said he ; ' and a good many of them, too, to make so much stamping. Papa, is not that the snort of a deer ? I think I have heard deer make just such a noise.' " ' May be it is. Perhaps it may be elk ; but what can cause such a commotion among them, I wonder ? ' " ' What think you,' suggested Harry, ' if they are fighting with some animal — a panther, or perhaps a bear ? * " ' If so,' said I, ' our best plan would be to get back the road we came, and that as speedily as possible. But I do not think it is that. They would not stand to light such creatures. Both elk and deer trust to their heels, rather than horns, to escape from bears and panthers. No, it is not that ; but let us creep forward and see what it is, any- how. Hold fast to your dog. Come ! ' " We crouched forward with the utmost caution, taking care not to tread upon the dry leaves and dead branches that lay across our track. We saw before us a thicket of pawpaws ; and we made towards this, knowing that the broad, green leaves of these bushes would screen us. We were soon among them ; and a few paces farther through the thicket brought us in full view of the glade. There we saw what had caused all the strange noises, and which still con- tinued as loud as ever. 236 THE DESERT HOME. " In the middle of the glade, there were six red deer. They were all bucks, as we could easily tell from their great, branching antlers. They were engaged in fierce and ter- rible conflict — son>,etimes two and two, and sometimes three or four of them, clumped together in a sort of general m^/Se, Then they would separate again ; and going some distance apart, would wheel suddenly about, and rush at each other with furious snorts, first striking forward with their fore feet held close together, and then goring one another with their sharp horns, until we could see the skin torn open, and the hair flying from them in tufts. Their eyes were flashing like fire, and their whole actions betokened that the animals were filled with rage and fury. " I saw at once what all this meant. It was now the rut- ting season ; and these chivalrous bucks were engaged in desperate combat about some fair doe, as is their yearly habit. " They were too distant for either Harry's rifle or mine ; and thinking they might fight themselves a little nearer, we determined to remain where we were and watch. The com- bat still continued to rage furiously. Sometimes two of them came together v;ith such violence that both went roll- ing over to the earth ; but in a moment they would up and at it again as fiercely as ever. "Our attention was particularly directed to two of the combatants, that were larger and older than any of the others — as we could tell from the greater number of points upon their antlers. None of the others seemed a match for either of these two, who had at length singled each other out as worthy antagonists, and fought separately. After goring and stamping a while, they parted,^as if by mutual consent, — and walked backward, until they had got at least twenty yards from each other. Then setting their necks, and putting all their energy into the rush, they dashed for- ward, and met head to head, like a couple of rams. There was a terrible crashing among their antlers ; and Harry and I looked to see whether a pair of them had not been knocked THE DESERT HOME. 237 off in the concussion ; but it appeared not. After this, the two struggled for a while, and then suddenly paused, — still head to head, as though by a tacit agreement, — in order to take breath. For some moments they stood quietly in this attitude, and then once more commenced struggling. After a while they stopped again, still keeping their heads together, so that their red, expanded nostrils steamed into each other. We thought that they fought quite differently from all the rest ; but our eyes were now drawn to the others, who were getting nearer us ; and we prepared our rifles to receive them. At length they came within range and, each of us choosing one, we fired almost simultaneously. At the double crack, one of the bucks fell ; and the other three, on perceiving the common enemy, immediately desisted from their mutual warfare, and bounded off like lightning. Harry and I rushed forward, as we had fired ; and thinking that the deer which we had missed — it was Harry's miss that time — might be wounded, we unmuzzled the dogs, and let them after. Of course, we had stooped down to perform this operation. What was our surprise, on looking up again, to see the two old bucks still in the glade, and fighting, head to head, as briskly as ever 1 "Our first thought was to reload our pieces ; but the dogs had been let loose, and these, instead of pursuing the other deer, dashed forward at the bucks, and the next moment sprang upon their flanks. Harry and I rushed after, and you may guess that our surprise was still further increased when we saw the bucks, instead of separating, still struggle head to head — as if their desperate hostility for each other had rendered them reckless of every other danger. When we got forward to the spot, the mastiffs had brought both of them to their knees ; and now, for the first time we perceived the true cause why they had continued their singular com- bat — because they could not help themselves ; their antlers were locked in each other ! — yes, held as firmly as if they had been lashed together by thongs cut out of their own hides. Indeed, far more firmly, for after we had beaten off the dogs. ^3S THE DESERT HOME. and secured the animals from the chance of escaping, we found their horns so interlocked — one pair within the other — that we could not separate them with all our efforts. We had sadly wronged the poor old bucks, in believing them so desperately pugnacious. Their hostile feelings for each other had long since ceased, — no doubt the moment they found themselves in such a terrible fix, — and they now stood, nose to nose, quite frightened-like, and ' down in the mouth,' as if vexed at the mess they had got themselves into by their bad behavior. Harry and I, after much pulling and hammering, found it quite impossible to make two of them. The antlers, which, as you know, are elastic, had bent with the terrible concus- sion we had witnessed ; and it Avas far beyond our strength to bend them back again. In fart, nothing but a machine of horse power could have accomplished that. I sent my companion, therefore, after Cudjo and his handsaw — at the same time directing him to bring the horse and cart, for the carcass of the buck we had shot, as well as some ropes for our captives. While he was gone, I employed my time in skinning the dead animal, leaving his live companions to themselves : I had no fear of their being able to escape. Cowed and sullen as both of them looked, it was well for them — since we did not mean to butcher them — that we had arrived upon the ground as we did, otherwise their fate was -a settled one. The wolves, or some other of their numer- ous enemies, would have treated them worse than we in- tended to do ; or had they not been discovered by these, their doom was sealed all the same. They might have twisted and wriggled about for 2 few days longer, to die of thirst and hunger, still locked in that hostile embrace. Such is the fate of many of these animals. " Cudjo soon arrived with the necessary implements ; and after hoppling both the bucks, we sawed one of the branches from their antlers, and ?et them asunder. We then put all three into the cart, and returned triumphant to the house." THE DESERT HOME. »39 CHAPTER XXXVIL THE PIT TRAP. " CuDjo had already completed our deer park, which con- sisted of several acres, partly woodland, and part of it being in the glade immediately adjoining the house. It was en- closed, on all sides, by a ten-rail fence, with stakes and riders, so that no animal of the deer species could possibly leap out of it. One of its sides lay along the lake ; and a trench had been cut, so as to admit a small pond of w^ater within the enclosure. Into this our bucks were put, and left to enjoy themselves as they best might. " The next anxiety of Harry and myself was to procure a doe or two, to keep them company. There was no likeli- hood that we should capture a pair of does as we had just done the bucks — since the does of this species of deer are without the great antlers. How, then, should we get hold of one ? That was what puzzled us, and set all our wits to work. " As we sat around the log fire, in the evenings, we talked the matter over and over again. We might shoot one that had the fawns following at her heels ; and we knew we could then easily take them — as these affectionate little creatures always remain by their mother, even after she has fallen by the bullet of the hunter's rifle. But this was a cruel expedient ; and mamma, who, of course, overheard us planning the thing, at once entered her protest against iu wSo, too, did Frank, for he was of a very gentle nature ; and, as you might say, could not endure to see a fly killed, ex- cept when strict necessity required it. Yet, withal, this same Frank, and mamma, who were entomologists, as well as orni- diclogists and botanists, had killed many a fly — as might be 240 THE DESERT HOME. seen by looking at a large frame hung against the wall, where all sorts of flies, and moths, and great, bright butterflies were empaled upon the sharp thorns of the locust. I am afraid that neither mamma nor Frank could have defended the point very gracefully, with so contradictory an argument hanging against the wall. Harry and I, however, did not contem- plate the adoption of this plan — as we knew that the fawns would be a long time in growing up, and we wanted an old doe or two at once. " ' Can we not trap them ? ' asked Harry. ' Why not take them in a trap as Frank did the turkeys ? ' " ' I am afraid you would not easily get deer into such a trap as that where the turkeys were caught. " ' But, papa,' continued Harry, ' I have read of other kinds of traps. One I remember well. It is made by build- ing a large enclosure, just like our park, only leaving a gap, and then having two fences, that run out from this gap far into the woods, and opening like the legs of a pair of com- passes. The deer are driven between these two fences, and into the gap, when the hunters follow, and close them in. I think that looks very easy to be done. How if we try it ? ' " ' It would not do at all. In the first place, it would take us several weeks to split rails enough to make the fences sufficiently long ; and, secondly, we should require men, and dogs, and horses, more than we have, to run the deer in the right direction. All this we might manage, it is true, by un- dergoing a great deal of trouble ; but I think I know a sort of trap that will serve our purpose better.' " ' O, you do. I am glad. What kind, papa ? * J " ' You remember where we noticed so many deer tracks fuYining between two large trees ? ' " * Yes, yes ; near the salt spring. You said it'was a path used by the deer, and other animals, when they went to lick the salt from the rocks below.' " ' Well — between those two trees let us dig a pit, and cover it over with branches, and grass, and leaves. Then (we shall see. What think you I ' THE DESERT HOME, i24l " * 0, a pit trap 1 that's the very thing ! ' " Next morning, with our spade and ax, Cudjo, Pompo, and the cart, we set forth. We were soon upon the ground, and commenced operations. We first marked out the size of the pit — which was to be eight feet long, and to extend in width from tree to tree, as near to both as we could conveni- ently get for the great roots. Cudjo then set to work with his spade, while I handled the ax and cut off the spreading roots as they were laid bare. Harry, meanwhile, employed himself with the hatchet in getting long, slender saplings and canes to cover in the pit. We threw the earth into the cart, and hauled it off some distance into the woods — taking care not to spill much of it around the place. Fortunately, the ground was very soft, and easily dug up, so that, in about five hours' time, we had excavated a square hole at least seven feet deep. ' This would do,' thought we. * No deer could leap out of that hole, we were certain.' " We now placed the saplings across the top, and over these a thin stratum of cane reeds, and above all this a quantity of long grass and withered leaves — so as to make it look as like as possible to the rest of the surface around it. We then removed the clods and other marks of our work, put our implements into the cart, and started off home again. Of course, we could do nothing more than wait until some unlucky deer should drop into the pit. " By sunrise, on the following morning, we paid a visit to our trap. As we drew near, we saw to our great ;oy that the top was broken in. " ' We have caught something, papa," said Harry, as we ran eagerly up to the ground. What was our astonishment, on looking into the pit, to see lying along the bottom the naked skeleton of an animal, which we knew at once was that of a deer ! We knew this by the horns, as well as pieces of the torn skin that were strewed all over the ground. All around the inside of the trap, there were evidences of some terrible struggle that had taken place during the ni^ht; and the reeds and grass that had fallen in along witt *he *^ 16 ^4^ THE DESERT HOME. animal ^^cre sprinkled with.blood, and trampled down upon the bottom of the pit. " * What can it be ? ' inquired Harry, as we stood gazing at this unexpected picture. * Ha ! papa, I'll wager it was the wolves ! ' - " * No doubt,' replied I ; ' it must have been they. The buck has fallen in during the night ; and they have just leaped down upon the top, and made a meal of him.' " ' Isn't it too bad,' said Harry, in a tone of vexation, ' that we should have constructed so fine a trap just to ac- commodate those rascally wolves ? Isn't it too bad ? " *' ' Have a little patience,' said I. ' We shall see what can be done to punish the ravenous brutes. Run back to the house, and bring Cudjo, with his cart and tools. Be sure you tell him to bring the large basket.' " In a short time, Cudjo came with his spade and cart, and we set freshly to w^ork upon the pit. It was now so deep that we had to use the large willow basket which Cudjo had made some time before. This we slung upon a thong of deer's hide ; and lowering it into the pit, we filled it with the earth, drew it up again, and emptied it into the cart. It was somew^iat laborious work; and Cudjo and I took turns about with the basket and spade. After a couple of hours or so, we had added four feet to the depth of our pit, which made it twelve in all. Of course, we cut the sides as nearly perpendicular as we could — if anything, a little hanging over. We covered it as before, putting fresh leaves and grass on the top of all. " ' Now,* said we to one another, as we marched off, ' let us see the wolf that will leap out of that, should he be only fool enough to drop into it. Pie may kill the deer wh'le he is in, but we shall do the same for him in the morning.' " Next morning we started forth again, big with expecta- tion. Our whole party went, — Frank, Mary, and the little ones, — as they were ail eager to see the trap, and whether we had taken anything. Cudjo brought with him his long spear, while Harry and I carried oiir ritlcs. Frank armed THE DESERT HOME. 243 himself with his bow. We were prepared for the wolves every way. " As we drew near the trap, Harry, who had gone a few paces in advance of the rest, came running back to announce that the top was broken in, and that there was some animal inside. This was great news ; and we all hurried forward, nlled, with the excitement of expectation. We were soon upon the spot and looking down into the pit. The hole that had been made through the grass covering was not a very large one, and it appeared quite dark inside ; but in the midst of the darkness, we could distinguish the shining eyes of animals. There were more than one pair, — there were several, — all looking up at us, and glittering like coals of fire ! ' What sort could they be?' asked we of one another. ' Were they wolves ? Yes, they must be wolves.' " Putting the rest to one side, I knelt down, and, stretching my neck over the hole, looked steadily in. I was not long in this position until I counted no less than six pairs of eyes ; and, to my great surprise, these eyes were of various shapes and colors. The trap appeared to be full of animals of all sorts ! " At this moment, the thought entered my head that there might be a panther among the rest ; and as I knew that he could easily spring out, I became somewhat alarmed, and hastily rose to my feet. I directed Mary to get into the cart along with the children ; and we then led them off to some distance out of the way, until we should assure ourselves as to what sort of creatures were our captives. We returned to the trap, and cautiously removing a quantity of the grass, so as to admit the light, we again looked down. To our great delight the first animal we could distinguish was the very one for which we had made the pit, — a red doe, — and, still better, among her legs we saw two beautiful spotted creatures of a light cinnamon color, which we at once recognized as fawns. We then looked around the pit for the others whose eyes I had seen ; and there, crouching in the darkest corners, we ^aw three bodies of ? reddisli-brown color, closely squatted 244 THE DESERT HOME. like so many foxc.. But they were not foxes ; thf^y were wolves, as we knew well — three wolves, of the barking or prairie species. They were not likely to bark any more, although they howled a bit, as Cudjo reached them with his long spear, and finished them in a trice. " Mary was now brought back ; and Cudjo, descending into the pit secured the doe and fawns, which were soon hoisted up and put into the cart. The wolves were also flung out and dragged off to some distance, and the trap was again put in order for further captures ; after which we all returned to our house, pleased with the valuable addition we had made to our stock. We were not much less pleased at having destroyed the three wolves — for these animals are very plenty in the valley, and, ever since our arrival, had caused us much annoyance. A piece of meat could net be left outside without being carried off by them ; and even since the capture of our two bucks, they had several times chased them through the park, until the noise made by the snorting of the latter had brought our dogs, and some of us along with them, to their rescue. " But the most curious circumstance connected with this affair was, why these wolves had left the doe and her fawns unmolested. They could have killed the three in a moment's time ; yet not a hair was ruffled upon any of them ! This strange conduct on the part of the wolves puzzled us all at the time ; and we could not offer even a probable conjecture as to its caused We found it out afterwards, however, when we became better acquainted with the nature of these animals. We found that, of the wild creaturjes that inhabited our valley, the prairie-wolf was by far the most sagacious of all. Even sly Reynard himself, who has been so long famous for his craft and cunning, is but a stupid when compared to his own cousin, the barking wolf. This we proved satisfactorily, when we endeavored afterwards to trap these animals. We first tried them with a * cage trap,' similar to that which Frank had used in taking his turkeys. We baited it inside with a nice piece of venison j but although we saw tracks all THE DESERT HOME. 245 around, and particularly on that side nearest to the bait, not one of the wolves had cared to venture up the funnei-shaped entrance. We next laid a bait with snares around it, made out of the sinews of the deer. We found the bait gone, and the snares gnawed to pieces, as though the rats had done it ; but we knew by the tracks that it was no other animals than the prairie-wolves. Our next attempt was with a ' figure-of- four ' trap. It was constructed with a large, shallow crate, made of split rails, and set leaning diagonally with its mouth downwards. It was held in that position with a regular staying and triggers — just as Frank and Harry used to set their traps to catch small birds. The bait was placed under- neath, upon the staying, in the most tempting manner we could think of. On returning to examine our trap in the morning, we saw, as we came near, that it was down. ' We have caught one of them at last,' thought we. What was our astonishment to find, on the contrary, that there was no wolf under the trap, and, moreover, that the bait was gone ! This was easily explained. A large hole had been scraped under the trap, which, running for some distance under- ground, came out upon the outside. But the most singular part of the business was, that this hole had evidently been burrowed before the trigger had been touched or the trap had fallen. We could tell this, because the hole was made from the outside, and through it the animal had most likely entered. Of course, in laying hold of the bait the trigger was sprung, and the trap fell ; but it was of no use then, as the wolf had only to crawl out through the subterranean road he had made, dragging the meat along with him. " We again tried the * pit trap ' — although we still had the one which he had made near the salt springs, and in which we afterwards from time to time caught deer and other animals, but no wolves. We made another, however, at a different part of the valley, near some caves where we knew the wolves were in great plenty. We baited this, first placing some venison upon the covering of leaves, and afterwards putting one of our live bucks into the pit ; but in both cases 246 TH1-: ]>KoKKr Home. the bail remained untouclied, although, we had sufficient evidence that wolves had been around it all the night. " We were very much chagrined by these numerous disappointments, as we wanted to thin oft" the wolves as much as possible. We occasionally shot an odd one or two, but we as often missed them ; and we could not afford to waste our powder and lead upon them. Cud jo, however, did the business at last by constructing a trap such as he said he had often caught raccoons with in ' Ole Vaginny.' This was arranged something on the principle of the wire mouse-trap ; and the spring consisted in a young tree or sapling bent down and held in a state of tension until the trigger was touched, when it instantly flew up, and a heavy log de- scended upon whatever animal was at the bait, crushing or killing it instantly. By means of Cudjo's invention, we suc- ceeded in taking nearly a dozen of our skulking enemies in the course of a few nights, after which time they grew so shy that they would not approach anything at all that looked like a ' fixture,' and for a long while we could trap no more of them. " Of course, all these incidents occurred afterwards, but they convinced us that it was owing to their great sagacity, why the three we had killed in the pit had left undisturbed the doe and her fawns. They were, no doubt, the same that had eaten the buck on the night before. They had found him in a shallow pit, out of which, after making their supper upon him, they had easily escaped. Returning again next night, they had watched until the doe and her fawns came along and dropped into the pit ; and then without dreaming of any change in the circumstances of the case, the wolves had leaped in after. But the increased descent down which they pitched convinced these wary animals that they had ' leaped without looking,' and were * in the trap , themselves ; and, guessing that whoever had made that trap would soon be alongside, they were as much frightened as the poor doe. In this state we had actually found them, cowering and crouching, and more scared-like than the fawns themselves THE DESERT HU.ME. -■k You will think this a very improbable relation, yet it is quite true. An equally improbable event occurred not long aftej-. Frank caught a large fox and a turkey in his trap; an.l although they had been together for some hours, not ;« feather of the turkey was plucked by its affrighted neighbor. " I have also heard of a panther, who, by the sudden risini: of a flood, had found himself upon a small islet in companv with a deer; and although at any other time his first m- stinct would have led him to pounce upon it, yet the poor deer was allowed to run about without its fierce companion attempting to touch it. He saw that he and the deer were equally in peril; and a common danger among the wild animals — as among men — frequently turns foes into friends." THE DESERT HOME. CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE OLD " 'possum " AND HER KITTENS. " The next adventure which befell us was near having a more serious termination. This time, Frank was my com- panion, while Harry remained at home with his mother. Our errand wai to procure some of the long Spanish moss that grew upon the live oaks in the lower end of the valley. This moss, when smoked, and cleansed of the leaves and pieces of bark that adhere to it, makes most excellent stuff- ing for bedmat\resses, — in fact, quite equal to curled hair, — and for this purpose we wanted it. We did not take the cart, as Cudjo had Pompo in the plow preparing a large tract for our second crop of com. We only carried with us a couple of rawhide ropes, intending to bring home a good burden of the moss on our backs. " We traveled on down the valley, looking for a tree with mo5s upon it that we could climb. At length, almost close to the foot of the cliff, we chanced upon a very large live oak, with low branches, from which the long, silvery moss was hanging down in streamers, like the tails of horses. We soon stripped off what was on the lower branches; and then, climbing up on these, proceeded to rob the others that were higher of their long, stringy parasites. " While thus engaged, our attention was attracted to the chirping and chattering of some birds in a thicket of paw- paws close to our tree. We looked in that direction, and we could see down into the thicket very plainly from where we stood, among the branches. We saw that the birds mak- ing the noise were a pair of orioles, or * Baltimore birds,' as they are often called, from the fact that, in the early settle- ments, their color — a mixture of black and orange — was THE DESERT HOME. 249 observed to be the same as that in the coat of arms of Lord Baltimore. Frank and I conjectured that they must have a nest among the pawpaws, for they had scolded us as we were passing through, but a moment before. ' But what were they scolding now ? ' asked we of one another, for the birds were fluttering among the broad, green leaves, uttering their shrill screams, and evidently under great excitement. We left off gathering our moss, and stood for a moment to see what it was all about. " Presently we noticed a strange-looking object in motion along the ground, and close in to the edge of the thicket. At first sight, we knew not what to make of it. Was it an animal ? No — it could not be that. It had not the shape of any animal we had ever seen ; and yet we could see legs, and tails, and ears, and eyes, and heads. Heads, indeed ! — there seemed to be a head sticking out of every part of its body; for we counted half a score of them, as it moved along. It moved very slowly, and when nearly opposite to us it stopped, so that we had a good view of it. All at once, the numerous heads seemed to separate from the main body, becoming little bodies of themselves, with long tails upon them, and looking just like a squad of white rats. The large body to which they had all been attached we now saw was an old female opossum, and evidently the mother of the whole troop. She was about the size of a cat, and covered with woolly hair of a light-gray color. She had a snout some- what resembling that of a pig, but much sharper at the point with whiskers like a cat. Her ears were short and standing, her mouth very wide, and, as we could see, full of sharp teeth. The legs were short and stout, and the feet, with their keen claws, seemed to spread out upon the ground more like hands than feet. The tail was very peculiar ; it was nearly as long as the body, tapering like that of a rat, and quite naked. But the greatest curiosity in the structure of this creature was a pouch-like opening which appeared under her belly, and which showed us that she belonged to the family of the marsujfia/ia, or pouched animals, This, 250 THE DESERT HOME. of course, we had known before. The little * 'possums ' were exact pictures of their mother — all having the same sharp snouts, and long, naked tails. We counted no less than thirteen of them, playing and tumbling about among the leaves. " As soon as the old one had shaken them all off, sue stepped more nimbly over the ground, going backwards and forwards, and looking up into one of the pawpaws that grew above the spot where she had halted. In this tree the orioles were now fluttering about, chirping wildly, and, at intervals, making a dash downward, until their wings almost swept the nose of the opossum. The latter, however, appeared to take all this very coolly, and evidently did not regard the imbecile efforts of the birds to frighten her off, but continued her sur- vey without paying any attention to their maneuvers. On looking upward, we discovered the object of her reconnois- sance, — the nest of the orioles, — which was hanging like a large purse, or, rather, like a distended stocking, from the topmost twigs of the tree. *' After a few moments, the old 'possum seemed to have made up her mind ; and approaching the spot where the young ones were scrambling about, she uttered a short, sharp note, that brought them all around her. Several of them ran into the pouch which she had caused to open for them. ; Two of them took a turn of their little tails around the root of hers, and climbed up on her rump, almost burying them- selves in her long wool ; while two or three others fastened themselves about her neck and shoulders. It was a most singular sight to see the little creatures holding on with * tails, ' ceeth, and toe-nails,' while some peeped comically out of the ^ Ijreat breast pocket. " We thought she was going to move away with her cargo, ' but, to our astonishment, she walked up to the pawpaw, and commenced climbing it. When she had reached the lower- most branch, which grew nearly horizontal, she halted ; then, taking the young ones, one by one, in her mouth, she caused fiach oi theru to m»Mc a turn pr two oi ii» tail p^round ^« HE DESERT HOME. 2^1 bran:,n, and hang head downwards. Five or six oi ine ' kit- tens ' were still upon the ground. For these she returned, and taking them up as before, again climbed the tree. She disposed of the second load precisely as she had done the others, until the thirteen little 'possums hung head down- wards along the branch, like a string of candles. •' It was such a comical sight to see these monkey-looking Httle creatures dangling by their tails, that my companion and I could not restrain our laughter as we gazed upon it. We took care, however, not to laugh aloud, as we were anx- ious to observe the further movements of the old 'possum, and we knew that if she should hear us it would spoil sport at once. " As soon as she saw the young ones all fairly suspended, she separated from them, and commenced climbing higher. We noticed that she caught the branches in her claws, exactly as a human being would have done with his hands, hoisting herself from, limb to limb. At length she reached the brnnch upon which hung the nest, far out at its top. For a moment, she stopped and surveyed it. She was evidently in doubt whether it would carry her weight without breaking, and so were we. Should it break, she would have a smart fall to the ground ; for the tree was one of the highest, for a paw- paw, we had ever seen, and there were no other branches below to which she could clutch, in case of falling. " The nest, however, full of eggs, no doubt, tempted her on ; and, after a moment's pause, she started along the branch. When about half way up it, — holding on both with tail and feet, — the slender sapling began to creak and bend, and show symptoms of breaking. This, with the screaming of the birds, that now flapped against her very nose, seemed all at once to cow her ; and she crept down again, going backwards along the limb. On reaching the fork, she paused, and looked about with an air that showed slie was both vexed and puzzled. All at once her eyes rested upon the branch of an oak tree, that stretched out over the pawpaw, and directly above the orioles' nest. She looked at this for S^2 THE DESERT HOME. a moment, as if calculating its height from the nest ; then, seeming to make up her mind, she ran nimbly down the paw- paw, over the ground that intervened, and up the trunk of the oak. We lost sight of her for an instant among the thick leaves ; but the next we saw her crawling out upon the branch that overhung the pawpaw. " When she had reached a point directly above the nest, she flung herself fearlessly from the branch, and hung to .ler whole length, suspended by the tail. In this position she oscillated back and forward, with gaping mouth and out- stretched claws, endeavoring to seize hold of the nest ; but with all her efforts, and no doubt to her great mortification, she was unable to reach it. There she hung for several minutes, clutching, now at the nest, now at the leaves of the pawpaw, and evidently tantalized by the sight of the delicious eggs so near her very nose. We could see that she had lowered herself to the last link of her tail, — until only a single turn of it sustained her upon the limb, — and we ex- pected every moment to see her fall to the ground. Her stretching was all to no purpose, however ; and uttering a bitter snarl, she swung herself back to the limb, and came running down from the oak. " She seemed to have given up her purpose in a sort of angry despair, for, climbing up the pawpaw, she hurried her young from the branch, pitching them somewhat rudely to the ground. In a short while, she had gathered them all upon her back and into her pouch, and commenced retreat- ing from the spot — while the orioles changed their terrified screaming into chirps of victory. " Frank and I now deemed it proper to interfere, and cut off the retreat of the * old 'possum ; ' so, dropping from our perch, we soon overtook and captured the whole family. The old one, on first seeing us approach, rolled herself into a round clump, — so that neither her head nor legs could be seen, — and in this attitude feigned to be quite dead. Several of the youngsters, who were outside^ immediately detached themselves, and imitated the example of their mother — so THE DESERT HOME. 253 that the family now presented the appearance of a large ball of whitish wool, with several smaller * clews ' lying around it. " On finding, however, that we were not to be cheated, and being pricked gently with the point of an arrow, the old one unwound herself, and, opening her long jaws, snapped and bit on every side of her, uttering all the while a sharp noise, like the snarling of a poodle. " Her snarling did not avail her, for in a few minutes we had muzzled her securely, and made.her fast to one of the saplings, intending to take the whole family with us when we returned to the house." 254 THE DESERT liUAlE. CHAPTER XXXIX. THE MOCCASON SNAKE AND THE ORIOLES. " We now climbed back into the live oak, and recommenced flinging down our moss. We were chatting gayly about the curious scene we had just witnessed. Frank was remarking how lucky he had been in thus finding the nest of the orioles — as he wanted young birds of that species, and he could return for them whenever they were hatched. All of a sudden, these birds — that, since the defeat of the 'possum, had remained perfectly quiet — again commenced screaming and chattering as before. " ' Another 'possum !' said Frank ; ' may be it's the old father coming to look after his family.' " We both stopped, and looked down. We soon discovered what was causing this new commotion. Slowly gliding over the grass, and glittering as it went, was a long, monster- looking object. It was a huge serpent, — a snake of the most venomous kind, — the dreaded 'moccason.' It was one of the largest of its species ; and its great flat head, protruding sockets, and sparkling eyes, added to the hideousness of its appearance. Every now and then as it advanced, it threw out its forked tongue, which, moist with poisonous saliva, flashed under the sunbeams like jets of frre. It was crawling directly for the tree on which hung the nest. Frank and I stood still where we were, determined to watch its movements as we had done those of the opossum. On reaching the root of the pawpaw, it stopped for a moment, as if to consider. " ' Do you think it is going to climb up to the nest ? ' in- quired my companion. No,' I replied ; ' the moccason is not a tree climber. <( i THE DESERT HOME. 255 If it were, the poor birds, as well as the squirrels, would have little chance ; but it cannot climb. Look at it ! it is only making pretense — to frighten the orioles still more, if possible.' " As I said this, the snake had drawn its body closer to the tree, and raised its flat head up against the trunk, throw- ing out its tongue as if it was licking the bark. '' The orioles, evidently believing that it was about to climb up, had now descended to the lowest branches, flutter- ing from one to the other, and screaming all the while either with rage, or terror, or both combined. *' The snake, seeing them approach almost within range of his hideous maw, gathered himself into a coil, and pre- pared to strike. His eyes scintillated like sparks of fire, and seemed to fascinate the birds for, instead of retiring, the}' each moment drew nearer and nearer, now alighting on the ground, then flapping back to the branches, and anon darting to the ground again — as though they were under some spell from those fiery eyes, and were unable to take themselves away. Their motions appeared to grow less energetic ; their chirping became almost inaudible ; and their wings seemed hardly to expand as they flew, or rather fluttered, around the head of the serpent. One of them at length dropped down upon the ground, within reach of the snake, and stood with open bill, as if exhausted, and unable to move farther. We were expecting to see the snake sud- denly launch forth upon his feathered victim ; when all at once his coils flew out, his body was thrown at full length, and he commenced retreating from the tree ! The birds, apparently released from the spell that had bound them, flew up to the higher branches, and ceased their screams and chirping. " For a while, my companion and I stood silent, wonder- ing at this unexpected termination of the scene. " ' What can have driven him off ? ' asked Frank turning to me with a look of inquir}-. " Before 1 could make any reply, an object appeared 256 THE DESERT HOME. upon the edge of the thicket, which occupied the attention of both of us. It was an animal about the size of a wolf, and of a dark gray or blackish color. Its body was compact, round-shaped, and covered, not with hair, but with shaggy brislles, that along the ridge of its back were nearly six inclies in length,- and gave it the appearance of having a mane. It had very short ears; no tail whatever, or only a knob ; and we could see that its feet were hoofed, not clawed, as in beaSts of prey. But whether beast of prey or not, its long mouth, with two white tusks protruding over the jaws, gave it a very formidable appearance. Its head and nose resembled those of the hog more than any other animal ; and, in fact, it was nothing else than the peccary — the wild hog of Mexico. As it came out from the long weeds and grass, we saw that two smaller animals, of a dark, red- dish color, — two young peccaries, — were following at its heels. Like the opossum, it was a mother and her brood. " The three soon drew near the pawpaws ; and the orioles seeing them, once more set up the scolding concert. But the old peccary paid no attention to the birds. They were nothing to her ; and she passed on with her nose to the ground, occasionally stopping to pick up a seed or a nut. " In going away from the thicket, she crossed the track by which the serpent had retreated. All on a sudden she stopped, tossed up her nose, and scented the air. The fetid smell of the moccason had reached her, and seemed at once to rouse all her energies. She ran for some moments from side to side, with her nose to the ground, and lifting the trail like a hound. She first followed it back to the tree ; but there was a double trail, — that by which the snake had come, as well as the one he had just made in retreating, — and this for a moment puzzled her. She took the wrong trail at first, and galloped nimbly out upon it ; but, almost in the same breath, returned to the tree, and then started upon the other. *' During all these maneuvers, the snake was crawling off as fast as he could, — which at best was only a very tardy THE DESERT HOME. 257 gait, — for the moccason is but a slow traveler. We could see that he kept as much as possible under the grass, oc- casionally raising his flattened head and glaring behind him. He was making for the cliffs, that were only about a stone's throw distant. " He had got scarce half way, when the peccary, running up the fresh trail, almost trod upon him ; and, seeing the object of her pursuit, she suddenly stopped, erected her lon<^ bristles, and uttered a shrill grunt. The snake, finding tha t he was overtaken, threw himself into a coil, and prepare I to give battle ; while his antagonist, now looking more lik * a great porcupine than a pig, drew back, as if to take the advantage of a run, and then halted. Both for a moment eyed each other, — the peccary evidently calculating its dis- tance, — while the great snake seemed cowed and quivering with, affright. Its appearance was entirely different from the bright semblance it had exhibited but a moment before, when engaged with the birds. Its eyes were less fiery, and its whole body seemed more ashy and wrinkled. " We had not many moments to observe it, for the pec- cary was now seen to rush forward, spring high into the air, and pounce down with all her feet held together upon the coils of the serpent. She immediately bounded back again, and, quick as thought, once more rose above her victim. The snake was now uncoiled, and writhing over the ground. Another rush from the peccary, — another spring, — and the sharp hoofs of the animal came down upon the neck of the serpent, crushing it upon the hard turf. The body of the reptile, distended to its full length, quivered for a moment, and then lay motionless along the grass. The victor uttered another sharp cry, that seemed intended as a call to her young ones, who, emerging from the weeds where they b'"' concealed themselves, ran nimbly forward to the spot." »7 258 THE DESKRT HOME, CHAPTER XL. THE BATTLE OF THE COUGAR AND PECCARIES. " Frank and I were rather pleased with the result of the encounter ; though I do not see why we should have taken sides with the peccary, who would have eaten the birds, — could she have caught them, — and their eggs, too, just as fast as the snake would have done. And why should we have taken the part gf the birds either, who, in their turn, had devoured many a butterfly as bright and beautiful as them- selves ? But so it is. From time immemorial, the poor snake — who is comparatively a harmless animal, and whose deadly powers have been greatly exaggerated — has been hated and persecuted by man more than any other creature •, thus fulfilling in a remarkable manner the prophecy of the sacred book. " We began to consider what plan we should take to cap- ture the animal. We desired very much to get possession of the young ones, as we knew they would be a valuable ad- dition to our stock, and would serve us in the place of real pigs — though their flesh does not taste much like pork. It is more like that of the hare. In fact, it is not eatable at all, unless certain precautions are taken immediately after the animal is killed. There is a glandular opening on the back, iust above the rump, tliat has been improperly called a navel. In this opening, there is a substance that emits a stroni; smell of musk ; and if the whole part be not cut out, in less than an hour after the animal has been killed, the flesh be- comes so impregnated with the musky odor that it is qui{^' unpalatable. If the gland, however, be removed in time, peccary pork is not bad eating— though there is no lard iii THE DESERT HOME. 259 it, as in the common pork, and, as we have said, it tastes more Uke the flesh of the hare. " But my companion and I did not think of these things at the time. We on I}' thought of how we could capture the young peccaries. " It was plain that, while the mother was witli them, the thing would be impossible. We knew that we dared not en- counter the fierce brute. Even had we had our dogs witli us, she would have been more than a match for both of them with her sharp tusks, and long, crocodile-shaped jaws. In fact, the most courageous dog will lower his tail and run from the attack of this animal ; and if, on the contrary, he should await it, it would only be to have a leg snapped off, or his side ripped open. It was plain, then, as long as the old one was there to guard them, we could never lay our fingers upon the ' shoats.' What was to be done ? Should we send a rifle bullet at the mother ? Frank thought this would be cruel ; and so it would have been. Still I knew that the peccary was a fierce animal, and not much entitled to the mercy we would have shown to a deer, or any harm- less creature like that. I knew, moreover, that there were a good many of them in the valley, — for we had seen their tracks in the mud, — and it was exceedingly dangerous to come in contact with them. Indeed, hunters and others have been often surrounded and torn to pieces by them. Such, then, being the case, I felt that it would not be wise to let any of them escape, whenever we could destroy them^else they might at some time destroy one of ourselves. With these thoughts in my mind, I paid but little attention to the remonstrances of Frank, but, bending down from the branch, on v/hich we stood, I reached for my rifle. I could just lay hold of the muzzle, as it leaned against the tree ; and, draw- ing it cautiously up, I prepared to fire. " During all this time, the peccary had been busy with the carcass of the snake. After killing it, she had bitten off the head ; and, holding the body between her fore feet, with Kiif UM^Ufi and teeth sh<^ had peeled off the skin a^ ndroitly 26o 'THE DESERT HOME. as a fishmonger would have skinned an eel. She had jusl finished this operation as I got hold of the gun, and was now tearing up the white flesh, and throwing it in small pieces to the youngsters — all the while uttering low grunts, that betokened her satisfaction and enjoyment. " I raised my rifle, and was about to take aim, when an object caught my eye, which caused me to lower it again with a feeling of terror. The peccary was about fifty yards from the tree upon which we stood ; and about twenty yards beyond, another animal, of a far different aspect, was seen coming out of the jungle. It was about the size of a vealed calf, but shorter in the legs, and much longer in the body. It was all over of a deep-red color, except the breast and throat, which were nearly white. Its ears were erect, short and blackish ; its head and muzzle cat-shaped ; and its whole body somewhat resembled the figure of a cat — except that its back, instead of being arched, was hollow, and sunk away below the level of its gaunt, muscular shoulder. " It would have been a fearful thing to look at, even had we not known what it was ; but we knew, and that ren- dered the sight of it still more terrifying. It was the cougar I " Now, for the first time since coming upon the spot, we felt fear. We knew that the peccary, savage as it was, could not climb a tree ; and hitherto we had deemed our- selves secure. We were now no longer so. We knew that the cougar could ascend a tree with the agility of a squirrel, and was as much at home among the branches as upon the ground itself. I knew all this ; and I turned to my companion, and whispered him to remain motionless and silent. " The cougar came on with stealthy tread. His eyes, as we could see, were set upon the unconscious peccary ; and his legs were strained down as he moved, so that one would have thought he was crawling upon his belly. His long tail, stretched away behind him, was gently waving from side to side — exactly after the manner of a cat, when stealing through the stubble upon the basking partridge. '• /3l this time the peccary w^s greedily deyowring th^ THE DESERT HOME. 26 1 snake, wholly unconscious of the danger that was gathering over her. The ground, for some distance around her, was clear of weeds and brushwood ; but a large tree stood near, and its long, horizontal branches stretched out, casting their shade upon the spot she occupied. On reaching the margin ■of the weeds that had hitherto partially concealed him, the cougar suddenly stopped, and appeared to deliberate. He knew that, unless he could spring suddenly and unawares upon the back of his victim, he would have to encounter those terrible tusks, the effects of which he saw exhibited at that moment on the carcass of the great reptile. He was still too distant to reach the peccary with a single spring ; and he appeared to be considering how he might get a little nearer without being discovered. " All at once, his eyes rested upon the overstretching branches ; a sudden change took place in his attitude, and turning slowly and silently, he crawled back among the weeds. We could see that he was making a detour to get upon the other side of the tree from that occupied by the peccary. Presently we saw him approach the trunk, and the next moment spring up it, more like a streak of red light than a living animal. We could hear the rattle of his claws in the loose bark, as he passed upward ; and the peccary, too, seemed to have heard it, for she threw up her head with a grunt, and stood for a moment listening. " * Only a squirrel, perhaps I ' thought she ; and again re- sumed her occupation. " * The cougar now appeared, coming from behind the trunk, and, after looking cautiously about him, commenced crawling out along the branch. On reaching one of its forks, he gathered himself like a cat, and then, with a terrific scream, sprang down upon the back of his victim. His claws were buried in her neck at the first dash ; and his long body covered hers — his hind legs and tail wrapping around her. The frightened animal uttered a shrill cry, and struggled to free itself. Both rolled over the ground, the peccary all the while gnashing its jaws, and continuing to send forth its 262 THK DESERT HUI\IE. Strange, sharp cries, until the woods echoed again. Even the young ones ran around, mixing in the combat — now flung sprawhng upon the earth, now springing up again, snapping their Httle jaws, and imitating the cry of their mother. The cougar alone fought in silence. Since the first wild scream, not a sound had escaped him but from that moment his claws never relaxed their hold ; and we could see that, with his teeth, he was silently tearing the throat of his victim. " The combat did not last long — only a few moments. The peccary soon ceased to struggle, and lay upon her side — still in the embrace of her terrible adversary, who had now torn open the veins of the neck, and was, silently and catlike, lap- ping the warm blood. " With all the hostility which we now felt for the cowardly cougar, we did not deem it prudent to interfere. We knew that he would serve us just as he was doing the peccary, if he only knew that we were so convenient to him ; and we therefore remained perfectly still, not daring even to move a limb. He was not thirty yards from us, for the struggle had brought both him and his victim nearer to our tree. I could have shot him, as he lay crouching in the enjoyment of his red meal ; but I knew too well the uncertainty of kill- ing such a muscular and powerful animal with a rifle bullet ; and I resolved to let him finish his feast, and take himself off if he would, without any hindrance on our part. We were not allowed much time to think about in ; for the com- bat was hardly over, when strange voices reached our ears, coming from the woods, apparently on all sides of us. They had reached the ears of the cougar, too ; for the fierce brute started suddenly to his legs, and stood listening, and, as we thought, somewhat cowed-like. He seemed to hesitate a moment, looking around him and down at the fresh-killed animal. Then, as if suddenly forming a resolution, he buried his teeth in the throat of the dead peccary, and, swinging the carcass over his long back, commenced retreating. - " He had made only a few steps, when the noises that I IHE DESERT HOME. 263 had been all the time growing more distinct were heard upon the very edge of the underwood ; and, the next moment, several dark objects bounded out into the opening. We saw at a glance they were peccaries. There were t\venty or thirty in all. They had been summoned by the cries of the one that was just killed. They came from every side, rush- ing simultaneously forward, and uttering their shrill grnnts as they ran. " They had got between the cougar and the trees before he could reach the latter ; and, in fact, they w^ere upon him on ail sides, almost in the twinkling of an eye. They formed a complete circle around him, and with their long bristles erected, their gnashing jaws and shrill notes, they presented most formidable array. " The cougar, seeing that his retreat was cut off, — at least, so long as he carried the carcass, — flung off his burden, and leaped upon the foremost of his advancing enemies, striking it to the ground with his huge paws. He had not time to turn himself, however, when several others fastened on him from behind; and we could see the red fur fly from his sides, torn up by their sharp tusks. Now came the struggle in earnest. For a short while, the cougar kept his antagonists at bay — striking them down and tearing them with teeth and claws ; but at length the whole herd closed upon him, and we could see the blood streaming from his torn flanks. He now seemed to fight as if wishing to make his way through them and escape ; but the peccaries, as active as himself, hemmed him in their midst, surrounding him with a dense mass of bodies and snapping jaws. Twice or three times, the cougar sprang into the air, — as if to leap beyoiTd the circle of his antagonists, — but at the same time several of these were also seen to rear upward, and intercept him in the spring. At length, by a desperate effort, he succeeded in clearing himself • and dashed out from among them, striving to escape. What was our horror, on perceiving tliat he ran directly for the tree upon which we were standing 1 With a feeling akin to despair, I cocked my rifle ; but, 264 THE DESERT HOME. before I could bring it to bear upon his body, he had passed up the tree hke a flash, and now lay crouching not twenty feet above our heads, and glaring down at us ! So close had he been in passing, that his claws brushed my arm, and I could feel his warm breath upon my face I The peccaries had followed to the foot of the tree, and there stopped — being unable to climb it. Some of them ran around, gazing upward. Others tore the bark with their teeth, and all of them uttered their shrill screams of fury and disappointment. " For some moments, Frank and I stood terror-struck. We knew not what was best to be done. There, above, was the terrible cougar, his eyes glaring like balls of fire at ourselves, who were within reach of a single spring ! We knew not the moment he might leap down upon us. Below, again, was an enemy, equally terrible, in the peccaries. They would have torn us to pieces in an instant, had we attempted to descend to the ground. No wonder, then, we were ter- rified at the dilemma in which we were so suddenly placed. No wonder it was some moments before I could gather resolution enough to act. <' At length, however, I bethought myself that of the two enemies the cougar was certainly the worst. We were safe from the peccaries so long as we remained upon the tree ; while we were at the mercy of the other, go where we would. I resolved, therefore, to direct my energies towards the de- struction of the cougar. " All this time, the latter had remained where he had first perched himself, in an upper fork of the tree. He would, no doubt, have attacked us sooner, had he not dreaded the peccaries below ; but he feared that by springing at us he might precipitate himself among them, and this kept him for the moment quiet. I knew very well, however, that, as soon as the animals at the foot of the tree should take their de- parture, our fate would be sealed. " My companion was unarmed. He had brought with him only his bow and arrows. These had been left at the foot of the tree, and were already crunched to pieces by the peo THE DESERT HOME. 265 caries. I put him behind me, therefore, so that he should be out of the way of the cougar, in case I should only succeed in wounding the latter, and it might spring upon us. All this was done in silence, and as gently as possible, so as not to startle the monster that lay above us glaring and growl- ing. " As soon as I was ready, I brought up my rifle slowly and with great caution. I steadied myself on the limb of the tree, and took aim directly for the head of the cougar — which was the only part of him I could see for the moss. I pulled trigger. The smoke for a while blinded me, and I could not tell the effects of my shot ; but I heard a rustling noise, — as of some heavy body falling through the leaves and branches, — then a dull sound, as of the same body strik- ing against the earth, — and at the same time louder screams, and a sudden rushing among the peccaries. I looked be- low. I saw the red body of the cougar struggling in their midst ; but it did not struggle long, for in a few moments it was tossed upon their snouts, and torn to pieces by theii long, fierce tusks." »66 THE DESERT HOMJU CHAPTER XLI. BESIEGED IN A TREE. " I NOW Mieved that we were safe. Both Frank and I experienced that happiness which men feel who have been suddenly siiatched from the jaws of death. ' The peccaries/' thought we, ' will soon disperse and go off into the woods, now that their enemy has been destroyed.' To our con- sternation, however, we soon found that we were mistaken ; for, instead vi retiring after they had glutted their vengeance upon the cougar, they again surrounded the tree, looking fiercely up at us, tearing the bark as before, and uttering their wild cries. It was evident they were determined to destroy us, if they could. It was a strange way to thank us for delivering over to them their enemy. " We were upon the lower branches, and they could see us distinctly. We might easily have climbed higher; but that would have served no purpose, as they could not reach us where we were. They could only destroy us by keeping us in the tree, until we might perish by hunger or thirst ; and from what I had heard of the nature of these animals I knew that it was not improbable that they might do this. " At first, I was determined not to fire at them, thinking that after a while their fury might subside, and they would disperse. Frank and I, therefore, climbed a little higher, and concealed ourselves, as well as we could, in the thick tufts of the moss. " After remaining thus for above two hours, we saw that it was all to no purpose ; for the peccaries, although they had become more quiet, still formed a dense circle around the tree, and appeared determined to carry out the siege. Some of them had lain dqwn,-^intending, no doubt, to take THE DESERT HOME. ^67 it as easily as possible, — but not one had as yet left ilie spot. " I grew impatient. I knew that our people would be un- easy about our long absence. I feared, moreover, that Harry and Cud jo might come in search of us ; and they, being on foot, and not able to climb quickly enough to a tree, might fall victims to these fierce creatures. I determined, therefore, to try what effect a shot or two might have upon the herd. " I again descended amongst the lowermost branches, to make sure of my aim, and commenced firing. Each time I selected an animal, aiming as nearly as I could for its heart. I fired five times, and at every shot one of the peccaries was seen to bite the dust ; but the rest, instead of being fright- ened by the fearful havoc I was making among them, only trampled over the bodies of their dead companions, grunting more fiercely than ever, and rushing against the trunk with I heir hoofed feet, as though they would climb up it. '' As I returned to load my rifle for the sixth time I found to my consternation that I had but one bullet left. This I rammed into my gun, which I again discharged among the peccaries, and another of them lay stretched upon the ground. But all to no purpose was this slaughter — the animals seemed to be quite regardless of death. " I knew of no other method to drive them away ; and I now returned to the upper branches where I had left my companion, and sat down beside him. We could do no more than wait with patience, in hopes that the night might call off our strange besiegers. Although we could hear them below us still uttering their wild cries, and scratching against the trunk of the tree, we now paid them no more attention, but sat quietly upon our perch, confiding in the hand of Pro- vidence to deliver us. " We had been seated thus but a very short while when all at once we became conscious that there was a bitter smoke rising around us. At first, we had taken it for the smoke which had been produced by the firing of the rifle, and which had hung for some time about the tree. Now we 268 THE DESERT HOME. knew it could not be that, for it was growing thicker and thicker and we noticed that it had a smell very different from that of burnt powder. Moreover, it produced a stifling, choking sensation, causing us to cough, and rub our eyes with the pain. On looking downward, I was unable to see either the ground or the peccaries ; but I could perceive a thick cloud rising up all around the tree. I could hear the voices of the fierce brutes loud as ever ; but they appeared to be scattering outward, and their cry was different to what it had hitherto been. It now occurred to me that the moss had caught fire from the wadding of my rifle ; and this soon proved to be the fact, for the smoke all at once became il- luminated with a bright blaze, that seemed to spread almost instantaneously over the surface of the ground. We saw that it did not fully envelop the tree, but burnt on that side where we had thrown down the moss. '• My companion and I scrambled out on the branches to the opposite side — going as far as we could to avoid the smoke. We feared all the while that the hanging moss, or even the tree itself, might catch fire, and force us to leap into the midst of our enemies. Fortunately, however, we had clean stripped those branches that hung directly over the blazing heap ; and as yet the flames did not mount high enough to reach the others. '* When we had crawled beyond the blinding smoke we could distinguish the peccaries, standing in a thick mass at some distance from the tree, and evidently somewhat terrified by the fire. * Now,' thought I, ' we shall be delivered from them. They will go off far enough to enable us to escape through the smoke ; ' and with this intention, I commenced reconnoitring the ground in the direction in which the thick clouds were carried by the wind. I concluded that none of the animals had gone in this direction ; and I saw that, if we could leap down without being seen, we might make off through the trees. We were about descending upon a lower ii'ub to carry out this purpose, when a sound, like the dis- tant yelping of dogs, broke upon our ears. It filled us at THE DESERT HOME. 269 once with a terrible foreboding. We knew that it must be oui own dogs ; and we knew that Harry or Cudjo, or perhaps both, would be coming close upon their heels. I knew that the dogs would soon be killed by the herd ; and then poor Harry — he would be at once torn to pieces. This was a fearful thought, and Frank and I paused a moment, with palpitating hearts, to listen. Yes, it was the dogs. We could hear them yelping and barking at intervals, and evidently coming nearer. The next moment we could plainly distinguish voices, as of people following upon the track of the dogs. The voices could be no other than those of Harry and Cudjo coming in search of us. I was irresolute how to act. Should I allow them to come on, and, while the dogs might keep the peccaries engaged for a moment, shout out and warn them to take to the trees ? It then oc- curred to me that I might leave Frank where he was, and, by making a sudden rush through the smoke, get nearer to Harry and Cudjo, and give them warning before the pec- caries could get up. Fortunately, their voices sounded in the right direction, and I might reach them without being pursued at all. " I did not hesitate a moment after forming this resolve ; but, handing my empty rifle to Frank, and drawing my knife, I dropped down among the smoking heaps of half-burnt moss. I ran off the moment my feet touched the ground j and after going a distance of a hundred yards or so, I came in sight of the dogs, and the next moment, of Harry and Cudjo. But at the same instant, on glancing back, I saw the whole herd of the peccaries rushing after me with shrill cries. I had barely time to shout to Harry and Cudjo, and swing myself up to a branch, when the animals were around me. The others, seeing me climb, and also perceiving the cause, ran to a tree and the next moment I had the sat- isfaction of seeing both of them mount into its branches. The dogs, on the contrary, ran forward to meet the herd and give them battle. This did not last long, for as soon as they had encountered the sharp teeth of the peccaries, 290 THE DESERT HOME. they ran howling back to the tree where Harry an J Cud jo had taken shelter. Fortunately for the dogs, poor brutes I there were some low branches, to which by the help of Cudjo th?" were able to spring up. Had it not been so, they would soon have suffered the fate of the cougar ; for the P'jccaries, fiercely enraged in their short encounter with them, pursued them hotly^ and surrounded the tree into which they had been lucky enough to climb. " I was now left to myself. From the position I occupied, I could not see Harry, Cudjo, or the mastiffs, but I could see the black herd that was around them. I could hear all all that passed — the howling of the dogs — the voices of Harry and Cudjo — the vengeful notes of the peccaries, all ringing together in a wild concert. Then I heard the crack of the little rifle, and I saw one of the animals tumble over upon the ground. I heard the shouts of Cudjo, and I could see the blade of his long spear lunging down at in- tervals among the dark bodies below. I could see that it streamed with blood, and that numbers of the animals were falling to the earth. Again came the crack of Harry's rifle, again the loud barking of the dogs, and again the shouts of Cudjo, as he stood upon the lowermost branches and plied his terrible weapon. And thus, for some minutes, raged the battle, until I could see the ground fairly strewed with black and bleeding forms. Only a fev/ of the peccaries remained upon their feet ; and these, at length becoming alarmed by the fearful slaughter of their companions, turned away from the tree, and fled into the thick underwood. It was plain that they were defeated, and would not again molest us ; and feeling confident of this, we all descended from our trees, and made our way to the house as quickly as we could, so as to relieve the anxiety of my wife. " Although we often afterwards met a few of the peccaries in our hunting excursions, and had the fortune to capture some of their young, they never, from that time, offered to attack us, but always endeavored to escape. It is the natur6 of this animal to fight bravely with an enemy until cj»;. TH2. DESERT HOME. 27I I 'lered, when it will always afterwards run at his approach. In fact, there appeared to be but one herd of them in the valley ; and as that had been nearly destroyed, we found them, in future, both scarce and shy. " Next day, we returned, well armed, for our opossum and her young, which, in our hurry, we had quite forgotten. We found, to our mortification, that the cunning animal had ;gflawed off her fastenings and escaped, with her whole brood." a/d TH£ D£S£RT HOME. CHAPTER XLIL AN ADVENTURE WITH DUSKY WOLVfiST '* During that year, we raised two crops of corn. Neithei one of them required as much as two months to bring it tG maturity. When we gathered our fall crop, we found thai we had twenty times the full of our cart — enough to do uij for a whok year, as well as to feed our animals in the winter. " Our second year was spent pretty much as tne (i st. We mad^. our sugar in the spring, ar.d planted a large quantity of corn. We added to our stocK of pets both deer and antf;lope ; and, among other animals, we caught an old she-wolf, with a large brood of wolf puppies at her heels. I need hardly tell you that we were constrained to kill the old one, 01 account of her savage disposition ; but the young ones we kept and reared. They grew up quite as tame as our own dogs, with whom they fraternized as if they had been of the same species. " During the summer and winter, we had seve'% al adven- tures in the trapping and killing of wild animalb ; but one of these return to the valley oasis. All of them were going together ' — M'Knight, new-married couples, and all. They were to take with them many wagons, with horses and cattle, and implements of husbandry — with the intention of settling there for life, and forming a little patriarchal colony of themselves. ,. , , IHF. DESERT HOME. 285 It was a pleasant letter to read ; and as I perused it over and over, and reflected on the many happy hours I had passed in the company of these good people, I could not help thanking the fat€ that first led me to the home in tht desk rt THE ENDi LOVE LETTERS With Directions How To Write Them By INGOLDSBY NORTH. This is a branch of correspondence which fully demands a volume alono to provide for the various phases incident to Love, Courtship and Marriage. Few persons, however otherwise fluent with the pen, are able to express in words the promptings of the first dawn of love, and even the ice once broken how to follow up a correspondence with the dearest one in the whole world and how to smooth the way with those who need to be consulted in the matter. The numerous letters and answers in this book go far to overcome the difficulties and embarrassment inse- E arable from letters on this all-absorbing topic in all stages from eginning to end of a successful courtship, aided in many instances by the author's sensible comments on the specimen letters, and his valuable hints under adverse contingencies. It also contains the Art of Secret Writing, the Language of Love portrayed and rules in grammar. Paper Covers. 25 Cents. Cloth, 50 Cents. THE COMPLETE LETTER. WRITER. Belnz the only Comprehensive and Practical Oulde and Assistant to Letter Writing Published. E:dlted by CHARLES WAUTER BROWN. A. M. There are few books that contain snch a fund of valuable information on the everyday affairs of life. In addition to every conceivable form of business and social correspondence, there are letters of Con- dolence, Introduction, Congratulation, Felicitation, Advice and Favor; Letters accompanying presents; Notes on Love, Courtship and Marriage ; Forms of Wedding Anniversaries, Socials, Parties, ^ Notes, "Wills, Deeds, Mortgages; Tables, Abbreviations, Classical Terms, Common Errors, Selections for Ai.tograph Albums; Information concerning Rates on Foreign and Domestic Postage, together with a dictionary of nearly 10.000 Synonyms and other valuable information which space will not ' admit of mention. The book is printed from new plates, on a su- perior quality of paper and bound in substantial and durable manner. 12mo. Paper Covers. 25c. Cloth, 50c. Cloth, 320 Pages, Price $1.00 For sale by all book and newsdealers, or sent to any address in the U. S., Canada or Mexico, postage prepaid on receipt of price in currency, money order or stamps. M, A. DONOHUE & CO. 407-429 DEARBORN ST. CHICAGO Elta Wheeler Wtlcojc TOEMS of 'RBrLECTtOJ^ The most noted and helpful po etieal work of this famous writer is here collected in popular form in a suitable binding for birthday orholiday presentations, or for ta- ble or library. Stamping done in lijjht green upon dark over special design in gold. Amcng the "PoEMS OF Reflec- tion," a few may be named, as fot lows: Penalty, Life, Lines from "Maurine," When, Only Dreams, ♦'In the Night," Content ment, Mother's Loss, The Women, »* Vam- pires, "Dying, The King and Siren, Sunshine and Shadow, "Whatever is, — is Best." Worldly Wisdom, My Comrade, So Long in Coming, Per- ished, The Belle's Soliloquy, My Vision, Dream Time, The Belle of the Season, Joy, Bird of Hope, A Golden Day, Fading, All the World, Old, Daft, Hung, W^hen I am Dead, Ghosts, Out of the Depths, Mistakes. Presumption, Song of the Spirit, A Dream, Dying, Our Angel. This book is poetical inspiration of the high- est order for sustaining and strengthening the heart and mind for the disappointments, vicissitudes and achievements ol life. f»ric:e 7S ceints Poems of Love, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. A beautiful book— companion to "Poems of Reflection." The following is a selection from a few of the poems in the Poems op Love: Sweet Danger, A Fatal Impress, Love, I Will be True, The Kingdom of Love, Love will Wane, A Maiden's Secret, Lines from "Maurine." This Taook is handsomely bound in the style of Poems and Reflections. CLOTH, F»RICE T S CEJ^JTS Sweet Danger, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. This popular author tells the story of love in this book as it has never been elsewhere told. CLOTH. F»RICE V S CEf^ TS Sent prepaid on receipt of price, M. A. DONOHUE & CO., 407- -429 I/earbom StfMl; CHICAGO* A SON OF REST By NAT M. WILLS "The Happy Tramp" The Creaiest 'BocK of Humor TublUhed,^ Chuck-full of wit, humor, pathos. 100 pages of original monologues, parodies, jokes, gags, etc., as rend- ered by the "King of Vaudeville Artists. 51 illustrations. Paper Covers. Price, 25 cents. m?PY THO* BROKE By CLIFTON f[REY FOX ^ Pictures by TED BROWN The book treats of the experiences of one who left his happy home to play a lone hand in the game of life. It is fully illustrat- ed and up to date, Handsomely printed and bound in paper cov» ers in colors. Paper Covers, Price, 25 cents. THE INSIDE INN By AN INSTER Every person who did or who did not visit the St. Louis Expo* sition win want a copy of "The Inside Inn." It is genuinely funny ; many laughable, ridiculously funny things were constantly hap- pening at "The Inn." This book describes them all. Paper, Price, 25 cents. THE CLINK OF THE ICE AND OTHER POEMS ^ ^ By EUGENE FIELD In his introduction to this book, Charles Walter Brown says: "Eugene Field was a humorist as delicate and fanciful as Artemus Ward, Mark Twain, James Whitcomb Riley, Bill Nye, Opie Read or Bret Harte in their happiest moods. Every lover of Field will welcome this unique collection of his choicest r7it and humor." 12mo, Cloth, 128 pages. Price, $1.00. For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any address in the United States, Canada or Mexico, upon receipt of pric-^ in currency, stamps, postal or express money order. W. fl. DONOHUE & CO,, k07'^29 Dearborn St. DONOHUE'S COMPLETE SELF-TEACHING LANGUAGE SERIES Modern Languages SELF-TAUGHT (READING AND SPEAKING) Specially arranged for learners of either language. NO W RE ADY NORWEGIANandDANISH-ENGLISH GONVERSAIiON TEACHER SWEDISH-ENGLISH GONVERSATiON TEACHER SPANISH-ENOUSH GONVERSATION TEACI^BR ITAllAN-ENGUSH CONVERSATION TEACHER PRICES Strong Paper Covers . . 25c. 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EUGENE FIELD OP-THE^IGJB THE CLINK OF THE ICE And Other Poems Worth Readina BY EUGENE FIELD Edition oontaiiiinfj aiitogrraph and iuc'lnding- stoii<=s ol illimitable wit and bumor, with lullabies and sketches of every-day scenes that made the writer famous. Among them aie: Sister's Cake, Mrs. Reilly's Peaches, Seein' Things, The Rime of the Crow Eater. Lul- labies from many Lands, The Two Little Skeezucks, The Stork, the English Mince Pie, Always Right, Mr. Billings of Louisville, Fisher- man Jim's Kids and many others. Beautifully bound with unique design in four colors, gold stamp- ing, 12mo, size.pR|CE.76CTS. HOOSIER LYRICS, By EUGENE FIELD Companion book to "The Clink of the Ice." This is aseriesof pathe- tic, amusing and entertaining poems in Indiana dialect on not- able Hoosier scenes, containing Eugene Field's parodies on many of James Whitcomb Riley's poems. The following are a few titles from the many : "Gettin' On," "Minnie Lee," '"Lizzie," "Our Lady of the Mine ", etc. PRICE, CLOTH, 75 CENTS. IN WINK-A-WAY LAND, by Eugene Field. Compan ion book to "The Clink of the Ice," specially selected and arranged for the little folks. Among the poems may be men- tioned the following; "The Bottle Tree," "The Sugar Plum Tree," "New Years Eve," "Buttercup."' "Poppy and Forget-Me-Not." "Little Henry's Slate," "The Dream Ship." "The Boy," "Lady Button-Eyes." "Teeny- Weeny," "Pitty-Pat and Tippy-Toe," "The Dinkey Bird," "Fiddle- Dee-Dee," "Good Children Street," "Booh," "Intry-Mintry," "Hi-Spy," etc. PRICE, CLOTH, 75 CTS. ( JOHN SMITH. U. S. A., by Eugene Field. The romantic poetry-story of John Smith also includes many •ther poems of which the following are a few of the titles: "The Bottle a-nd the Bird," "The Blue and the Gray,' "Summer Heat," •'A Missouri Coon in the Berlin Zoological Gardens," "The Taylor Pup," "The Tin Bank," "In New Orleans," "The Peter Bird," ••Dibdin's Ghost," etc. PRICE, CLOTH, 75 CENTS. M, A. DONOHUE & CO. 407-429 Dearborn Street, CHICAGO, Bound to Win Series £gsJ»gH - — - 58 TiMes price: 75 CENTS EACH THIS new series is pro'^.uf!; the most popular line of books for boys published this year. Look at the names of the authors of all of the books and you will see the reason: Alger, Cooper. Ellis, Henty, Kingston, Optic, Reid, Etc. What a galaxy of boys' favoritesl They are printed from new plates, ou a superior quality of paper and bound in the best binders cloth ; title stamped on back and side in three colors ink from appropriate designs made especi- ally for this series. Adventures A^ong the Indians W . H . G. 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Donohue & Co. 407 409 Dearborn bt., CHICAGO THE IMPERIAL GALAXY OF CLASSIC MASTERPIECES LITERATURE, ART AND PHILOSOPHY Large size, SYsxlO^^ inches. 608 pages Handsomely Bovjnd ir\ ^O CA ClotKWith Art Design yCiOU PROF. C. M. STEVENS, Ph. D., Editob ALL THE MOST FAMOUS PRODUCTIOHS FROM THE GENIUS OF MANKIND 1,000 Classic Masterpieces of the world's treasury of poetry and prose. 300 reproductions from the world's greatest art masters. World-wide culture in poetry, painting and prose, act ordiug to standard art critics and literary authori- ties. EDUCATIONAL INSPIRATION AND WISDOM FOR FAMILY AND HOME M. A. DONOHUE & CO., 407—429 Dcarborr. StteH CHICAGO. CONFESSIONS OF A OON-MAN 'By Curt Jeffreys This is the humorous and dramatic adventures oi A professional sharper, who made his living by his wits. The deceptions he practiced upon the guileless and upon the well-informed in the country and cities of the United States, forms a sparkling story of how the American people like to be fooled. Incidentally the reader can also learn the "v/ays that are dark and the tricks that are vain," as practiced to obtain money in the world of confidence games and graft. The reader e^ets h.'s money's worth many times over in humor, enter- tainment and instruction. Price l^repald, Paper. 25 cent* M. A. OONOHyE & 00., '"~'n.<^^^ OPIE READ IN TH E OZ, AR K S Twenty-four Fine Illustrations ••THE GREATEST BOOK OF HUMOR EVER PUBLISHED'* kOMROCS The Ozark Mountains lie half in ^lissouri and half in Arkansas, and the stories and jokes in this booli by the world-famed humorist, Opie Read, are the best ever published on this cection of the country. The name of Opie Read is synony- mous with wit, fun, miith, sport, humor, good-fellowship — in general the best this line has to offer, and in this book the greatest living humorist and story teller was never more entertaining. A laugh on every page, two laughs in every picture. We guarantee 138 laughs or money refunded. 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