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THE DESERT HOME 
 
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 ADVENTURES OF A LOST FAMILY 
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 ^ ' CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE GREAT AMERICAN DESERT. 
 
 There is a great desert in the interior of North America. 
 It is almost as large as tlie famous Saara of Africa. It is 
 fifteen hundred miles long, and a thousand wide. Now, if it 
 were a legular shape, — that is to say, a parallelogram, — you 
 could at once compute its area, by multiplying the length 
 upon the breadth ; and you would obtain one million and a 
 half for the result — one million and a half of square miles. 
 But its outlines are as yet very imperfectly known ; and 
 although it is fully fifteen hundred miles long, and in some 
 places a thousand in breadth, its surface extent is probably not 
 over one million of square miles, or twenty-five times the size 
 of England. Fancy a desert twenty-five times as big as all 
 England ! Do you not think that it has received a most 
 appropriate name, when it is called the Great American 
 Desert ? 
 
 Now, my young friend, what do you understand by a 
 desert ? I think I can guess. When you read or hear of a 
 desert, you think of a vast level plain, covered with sand, 
 and without trees, or grass, or any kind of vegetation. You 
 think, also, of this sand being blown about in thick, yellow 
 clouds, and no water to be seen in any direction. This is 
 your idea of a desert ; is it not ? Well, it is not altogether 
 the correct one. It is true that in almost every desert there 
 are these sandy plains, yet there are other parts of its surface of 
 a far different character, equally deserving the name of desert. 
 Although the interior of the great Saara has not yet been 
 fully explored, enough is known of it to prove that it contains 
 large tracts of mountainous and hilly country, with rocks and 
 valleys, lakes, rivers, and springs. There are, also, fertile 
 
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 912936 
 
lO THE DESERr HOME. 
 
 spots, at wide distances from each other, covered with trees, 
 and shrubs, and beautiful vegetation. Some of these spots 
 are small, while others are ot large extent, and inhabited by 
 independent tribes, and even whole kingdoms of people. A 
 fertile tract of this kind is called an oasis ; and, by looking 
 at your map, you \\|ill perceive that there are many oases in 
 the Saara of Africa. 
 
 Of a similar character is the Great American Desert ; but 
 its surface is still more varied with what may be termed 
 "geographical features." There are plains — some of them 
 more than a hundred miles wide — where you can see nothing 
 but white sand, often drifting about on the wind, and here 
 and there thrown into long ridges such as those made by a 
 snowstorm. There are other plains, equally large, where no 
 sand appears, but brown barren earth, utterly destitute of 
 vegetation. There are others, again, on which grows a 
 stunted shrub, with leaves of a pale silvery color. In some 
 places it grows so thickly, interlocking its twisted and knotty 
 branches, that a horseman can hardly ride through among 
 them. This shrub is the arfemisia, — a species of wild sage 
 or wormwood, — and the plains upon which it grovvs are called 
 by the hunters who cross them the sage prah-ies. Other 
 plains are met with that present a black aspect to the traveler. 
 These are covered with lava, that at jome distant period of 
 time has been vomited forth from volcanic mountains, and 
 now lies frozen up, and broken into small fragments like the 
 stones upon a new-made road. Still other plains present 
 themselves in the American Desert. Some are white, as if 
 snow had fallen freshly upon them, and yet it is not snow, 
 but salt! Yes; pure white salt — covering the ground six- 
 inches deep, and for fifty miles, in every direction 1 Others, 
 again, have a similar appearance ; but instead of salt, you 
 find the substance which covers them to be soda — a beautiful 
 efflorescence of soda ! 
 
 There are mountains, too — indeed, one half of the desert 
 is very mountainous; and the great chain of the Rocky 
 Mountains — of which you have no doubt heard — runs sheer 
 
THE DESERT Hv-^ME. H 
 
 through it from north to south, and divides it into two nearly 
 equal parts. But there are other mountains besides these ; 
 mountains of every height, and sometimes in their shape and 
 color presenting very striking and singular appearances. 
 Some of them run for miles in horizontal ridges like the roofs 
 of houses, and seemingly so narrow at their tops that one 
 might sit astride of them. Others, again, of a conical form, 
 stand out in the plain apart from the rest, and look like tea- 
 cups turned upon their mouths in the middle of a table. 
 Then there are sharp peaks that shoot upward like needles, 
 and others shaped like the dome of some great cathedral — 
 like the dome of St. Paul's. These mountains are of many 
 colors. Some are dark, or dark green, or blue when seen 
 from a distance. They are of this color when covered by 
 forests of pine or cedar, both of which trees are found in 
 great plenty among the mountains of the desert. 
 
 There are many mountains where no trees are seen nor any 
 signs of vegetation along their sides. Huge naked rocks of 
 graiijte appear piled upon each other, or jutting out over dark 
 and frowning chasms. There are peaks perfectly Vvhite, be- 
 cause they are covered with a thick mantle of snow. These 
 can always be seen from the greatest distance, as the snow 
 lying upon them all the year without melting proves them to 
 be of vast elevation above the level of the sea. There are 
 other peaks almost as white, and yet it is not with snow. They 
 are of a milky hue, and stunted cedar trees may be seen cling- 
 ing in seams and crevices along their sides. These are moun- 
 tains of pure limestone, or the white quartz rock. There are 
 mountains, again, upon which neither tree nor leaf is to be 
 seen ; but, in their stead, the most vivid colors of red and green, 
 and yellow and white, running in stripes along their sides, as 
 though they had been freshly painted. These stripes mark 
 the strata of different colored rocks, of which the mountains 
 are composed. And there are still other mountains in the 
 Great American Desert, to startle the traveler with their 
 strange appearance. They are those that glitter with the 
 mica and selenite. These, when seen from a distance flash- 
 
12 THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 ing under the sun, look as though they were mountains of 
 silver and gold. 
 
 The rivers, too ; strange rivers are they. Some run over 
 broad shallow beds of bright sand. Large rivers — hundreds 
 of yards in width, with sparkling waters. Follow them down 
 their course. What do you find ? Instead of growing 
 larger, like the rivers of your own land, they become less 
 and less, until at length their waters sink into the sands, and 
 you see nothing but the dry channel for miles upon miles. 
 Go still farther, and again the water appears, and onward 
 increases in volume, until, thousands of miles from the sea, 
 large ships can float upon their bosom. Such are the 
 Arkansas and the Platte. 
 
 There are other rivers that run between bleak, rocky banks 
 — banks a thousand feet high, whose bald, naked " bluffs " 
 frown at each other across the deep chasm, in the bottom 
 of which roars the troubled water. Often these banks extend 
 for hundreds of miles, so steep at all points that one cannot 
 go down to the bed of their stream ; and often, often the 
 traveler has perished with thirst, while the roar of their 
 water was sounding in his ears. Such are the Colorado and 
 the Snake. 
 
 Still others go sweeping through the broad plains, tearing 
 up the clay with their mighty floods, and year after year 
 changing their channels, until they are sometimes a hundred 
 miles from their ancient beds. Here they are found gur- 
 gling for many leagues underground — under vast rafts formed 
 by the trees which they have borne downward in their cur- 
 rent. There you find them winding by a thousand loops, 
 like the sinuosities of a great serpent, rolling sluggishly along, 
 with waters red and turbid as though they were rivers of 
 blood. Such are the Brazos and the Red. 
 
 Strange rivers are they that struggle through the moun- 
 tains, and valleys, and plateau lands of the Great American 
 Desert. 
 
 Not less strange are its lakes. Some lie in the deep re- 
 cesses of hills that dip down so steeply you cannot readi 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 13 
 
 their shores ; while the mountains around them are so bleak 
 and naked, that not even a bird ever wings its flight across 
 their silent waters. Other lakes are seen in broad, barren 
 plains ; and yet, a few years after, the traveler finds them, 
 not — they have dried up and disappeared. Some are fresh, 
 with waters like crystal ; others brackish and muddy ; while 
 many of them are more salt than the ocean itself. 
 
 In this desert there are springs — springs of soda and sul- 
 phur, and salt waters ; and others so hot that they boil up as 
 in a great caldron, and you could not dip your finger into 
 them without scalding it. 
 
 There are vast caves piercing the sides of the mountains, 
 and deep chasms opening into the plains — some of them so 
 deep that you might fancy mountains had been scooped out 
 to form them. They are called "barrancas." There are 
 precipices rising straight up from the plains, thousands of feet 
 in height, and steep as a wall ; and through the mountains 
 themselves you may see great clefts cut by the rivers, as 
 though they had been tunneled and their tops had fallen in. 
 They are called " canons." All these singular formations 
 mark the wild region of the Great American Desert. 
 
 It has its denizens. There are oases in it ; some of them 
 large, and settled by civilized men. One of these is the 
 country of New Mexico, containing many towns, and 30,000 
 inhabitants. These are of the Spanish and mixed Indian 
 races. Another oasis is the country around the Great Salt 
 and Utah Lakes. Here is also a settlement, established in 
 1846. Its people are Americans and Englishmen. They 
 are the Mormons ; and, though they dwell hundreds of miles 
 from any sea, they will in time become a large and powerful 
 nation of themselves. 
 
 Besides these two great oases, there are thousands of others 
 of all sizes — from fifty miles in breadth, to the little spot of 
 a few acres, formed by the fertilizing waters of some gurgling 
 spring. Many of these are without inhabitants. In otl ers, 
 again, dwell tribes of Indians, some of them numerous and 
 ^werfv^ r)ossesb;n§ horses and cattle ; while others are 
 
14 THE DESERT TfO:\IE. 
 
 found in small groups of three or four families each, sub- 
 sisting miserably upon roots, seeds, grass, reptiles, and in- 
 sects. In addition to the two great settlements we have 
 mentioned, and the Indians, there is another class of men 
 scattered over this region. These are white men — hunters 
 n;id trappers. They subsist by trapping the beaver and 
 hunting the buffalo and other animals. Their life is one 
 continued scene of peril, both from the wild animals which 
 they encounter in their lonely excursions, and the hostile 
 liidians with whom they come in contact. These men pro- 
 cure the furs of the beaver, the otter, the muskrat, the mar- 
 ten, the ermine, the lynx, the fox, and the skins of many 
 other animals. This is their business, and by this they live. 
 There are forts, or trading posts, established by adventurous ' 
 merchants, at long distances from each other ; and at these 
 forts the trappers exchange their furs for the necessary im- 
 plements of their perilous calling. 
 
 There is another class of men who traverse the great des- 
 ert. For many years there has been a commerce carried 
 on between the oasis of New Mexico and the United States. 
 This commerce employs a considerable amount of capital, 
 arid a great number of men, principally Americans. The 
 goods are transported in large wagons drawn by mules or 
 oxen ; and a train of these wagons is called a " caravan." 
 Other caravans — Spanish ones — cross the western wing of 
 the desert, from Sonora to California, and thence to New 
 Mexico. Thus, you see, the American Desert has its cara- 
 vans as well as the Saara. 
 
 These caravans travel for hundreds of miles through 
 countries in which there are no inhabitants, except the scat- 
 tered and roving bands of Indians ; and there are many parts 
 so sterile, that not even these can exist in them. 
 
 The caravans, however, usually follow a track which is 
 known, and where grass and water may be found at certain 
 seasons of the year. There are several of these tracks, or, 
 as they are called, " trails," that cross from the frontier settle- 
 ments of the United States to those of New Mexico. Be- 
 
THE DESERT HOME. ij 
 
 ween one and another of them, however, stretch vast regions 
 of desert country, — entirely unexplored and unknown, — and 
 many fertile spots exist, that have never been trodden by the 
 foot of man. 
 
 Sucli, then, my youn^; fi iend, is a rough sketch of some of 
 tlie more prominent features of the Great American Desert. 
 
 Ivct nie conduct you into it, and show you, from a nearer 
 view, some of its wild but interesting aspects. I shall not 
 show you the ^vildest of them, lest they might terrify you. 
 Fe^r not, I shall not lead you into danger. Follow me. 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 THE WHITE PEAK? 
 
 Some years ago, I was one of a party of " prairie mer» 
 chants " who crossed with a caravan from St. Louis, on the 
 Mississippi, to Santa Fe, in New Mexico. We followed the 
 usual " Santa Fe trail." Not disposing of all our goods in 
 New Mexico, we kept on to the great town of Chihuahua, 
 which lies farther to the south. There we settled our busi- 
 ness, and were about to return to the United States the way 
 we had come, when it was proposed (as we had now nothing 
 to encumber us but our bags of money) that we should ex- 
 plore a new " trail " across the prairies. We all wished to 
 find a better route than the Santa Fe road ; and we expected 
 that such a one lay between the town of El Paso, on the Del 
 Norte B'"er, and some point on the frontiers of Arkansas. 
 
 On arriving at El Paso, we sold our wagons, and purchased 
 Mexican pack mules — engaging, at the same time, a number 
 of " arrieros," or muleteers, to manage them. We also pur- 
 -':hased saddle horses — the small tight horses of New Mexico, 
 which are excellent for journeying in the desert. We pro- 
 i^ided ourselves, moreover, with such articles of clothing and 
 provisions as we might require upon our unknown route. 
 Having got every thing ready for the journey, we bade adieu 
 to El Paso, and turned our faces eastward. There were in 
 all twelve of us — traders, and a number of hunters, who had 
 agreed to accompany us across the plains. There was a 
 miner too, who belonged to a copper mine near El Paso. 
 There were also four Mexicans — the " arrieros," who had 
 charge of our little train of pack mules. Of course we 
 were all well armed,, and mounted upon the best horses we 
 qould procure lor money. 
 
THE DESERT HOMt:. fj 
 
 Wo li.id first to cross over the Rocky Mountains, wliich 
 run north and south through all the country. That chain of 
 them which lies eastward of El Paso is called the Sierra de 
 Organos, or " Organ Mountains." They are so called from 
 the fancied resemblance which is seen in one of their cliffs 
 tD the tubes of an organ. These cliffs are of trap rock, 
 which, as you are aware, often presents very fantastic and" 
 singular formations, by means of its peculiar stratification. 
 But there is a still more curious feature about these Organ 
 Mountains. On the top of one of them is a lake, which has 
 its tides, that ebb and flow like the tides of the ocean. No 
 one has yet accounted for this remarkable phenomenon, and it 
 /emains a puzzle to the geological inquirer. This lake is a 
 favorite resort fjr the wild animals of the country, and deer 
 and elk Lre found in great numbers around its shores. They 
 are not even molested by the Mexican hunters of these parts, 
 who seem to have a superstitious fear of the spirits of the 
 Organ Mountains, and rarely climb up their steep sides. 
 
 Our party found an easy 'pass through the range, which 
 brought us out into an open countiy on the other side. After 
 traveling several days through the eastern spurs of the Rocky 
 Mountains, we struck upon a small stream, which we fol- 
 lowed downward. It brought us at length to a large river 
 running north and south, which we knew to be the cele- 
 brated Pecos or, as it is sometimes called, the Puerco. These, 
 you wall perceive, are all Spanish names, for the country 
 through which we were travelling, although uninhabited and 
 even unexplored by the Mexican Spaniards, was yet part of 
 their territory ; and such objects as were knowai to them, 
 through hunters or others, had received names in their Ian 
 guage. 
 
 We crossed the Pecos, and traveled for some days up 
 its left bank, in hopes of reaching some other stream that 
 might run into it from the east, which w^ could follow. No 
 F,uch stream appeared ; and we were forced at times to leave 
 the Pecos itself, and take out into the open country for a dis- 
 tance of miles, before we could get back to its waters. This 
 
 2 
 
l8 THE DESEkl HOME. 
 
 was on account of the deep channel which the river — worV 
 ing for long ages — had cut through hills that opposed its 
 course, leaving on both sides vast precipices for its banks. 
 
 Having now got farther to the north than we wished, our 
 party at length determined to attempt the passage of the 
 arid plain which stretched away eastward as far as tlie eye 
 could reach. It was a perilous enterprise to leave the river^ 
 without some knowledge that there was water ahead of us. 
 Travelers, under such circumstances, usually keep close to a 
 stream, wherever it runs in the direction in which they wish 
 to go ; but we had grown impatient on not finding any one 
 flowing into the Pecos from the east ; and having filled our 
 gourd canteens, and givan our animals as much water as 
 they could drink, we turned the ir heads towards the open 
 plain. 
 
 After riding for several hours, we found ourselves in the 
 midst of a wide desert, with neither hill, mountain, nor any 
 other landmark in view. Scarcely a trace of vegetation ap- 
 peared around us. Here and there were patches of stunted 
 sage bushes and clumps of thorny cactus, but not a bhide 
 of grass to gladden the eyes of our animals. Not a drop of 
 water was met with, nor any indication that rain had e\er 
 fallen upon that parched plain. The soil was as dry as 
 powder, and the dust kicked up by the hoofs of our mules 
 and horses hung around us in a cloud as we marched. In 
 addition to this, the heat was excessive : and this, with the 
 dust and fatigue of travel, brought on an unquenchable 
 thirst, that soon caused us to drink up the contents of our 
 water gourds. Long before night they were all empty^ apal 
 every one of our party was crying out from thirst. ()i : 
 animals suffered worse; for we, at least, had food, while 
 they, poor brutes, were without a bite to sustain them. , 
 
 We could not well turn back. \\q thought we should 
 surely come to water, sooner than we could get back to the 
 river ; and with this liope we struggled on. Late in the after- 
 noon, our eyes were greeted by a glad sight, that caused us 
 to start up in our saddles with a feeling of joy. You may 
 
THE DESL'.Rr HOME. 
 
 19 
 
 I 
 
 think that it was water — but it was not. It was a white object 
 that appeared against the sky at a great distance. It was of a 
 irianguhir shape, and seemed to be suspended in the air hke 
 the upper half of a huge kite. All of us knew at a glance 
 wliat it was. We knew that it was the white cap of a snowy 
 mountain. 
 
 Vou will wonder why this sight should ha\'e given us such 
 feelings of pleasure, as, in your opinion, there is nothing 
 very hospitable in the appearance of a snow-cajjped moun- 
 tain. That is because you do not understand tlie j:>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 
 <he door, engaged in some occupation ; and near her were 
 vwo little girls, no doubt her daughters. 
 
 But the sight which was strangest of all, both to my com- 
 panion and myself, was what appeared in front of the house, 
 and around the little porch where the woman was sitting. 
 It was a fearful sight to look upon. First there were two 
 large, black bears, perfectly loose, and playing with each 
 other . Then there were several smaller animals, that we 
 had at first taken for dogs, but that we now recognized, by 
 their bushy tails, sharp snouts, and short, erect ^ars to have 
 at least as much of the wolf as dog m them. They were of 
 that kind often met with among the Indians, and might mor^ 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 39 
 
 properly be called dog wolves than wolf dogs. There were 
 at least half a dozen of them sauntering about. But the 
 most fearful looking of all were two animals of a tawny red 
 color, that lay in crouching attitudes within the porch, almost 
 at the feet of the woman. Their ^ound, cat-like heads and 
 . ears, their short, black muzzles, their white throats, and pale, 
 reddish breasts, told us what they were at a glance. 
 
 '■' Panthers ! " ejaculated my companion, drawing a long 
 breath, and looking at me with a puzzled air. Yes, they 
 v.'cre panthers, — so called by the hunters but more properly 
 cougars, — the fclis concolor of the naturalists — the lion of 
 America. 
 
 In the midst of all these fierce creatures, the two young 
 girls were moving about, apparently unconcerned at their 
 presence, while the animals appeared equally unconcerned 
 about them. The whole scene reminded us of the fanciful 
 pictures we had seen of that time promised in the sacred 
 book, when " all the earth shall be at peace, and the lion 
 shall lie down with the lamb." 
 
 We did not stop to see more. We were satisfied, and 
 went back for our companions. In five minutes after, the 
 whok of us entered the clearing, and rode up to the house 
 Our sudden appearance produced consternation on all sides. 
 The men shouted to each other — the horses neighed — the 
 dogs howled and barked hoarsely — and the fowls mingled 
 their voices in the clamor. We were taken, no doubt, for a 
 party of Indians ; but we were not long in making it under- 
 stood who and what we were. As soon as our explanations 
 were given, the white man invited us, in the politest manner, 
 to alight, and partake of his hospitality. At the same time, 
 he gave orders for our dinners to be prepared ; and, desir- 
 ing us to lead our horses into one of the enclosures, he com- 
 menced throwing corn into a large wooden trough. In 
 this he was assisted by the negro, who was his serv- 
 ant, and the two young lads, who appeared to be his 
 lions. 
 
 As yet we had not ceased to wonder. Everything around 
 
30 THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 US was strange and inexplicable. The animals, which none 
 of us had ever seen, except in their wild state, were as tame 
 and gentle as farm cattle; and we :^"^ticed some new species 
 at every turn. There were strange plants, too, growing in 
 the fields and garden, and vines trained upon espaliers, and 
 corn cribs filled with yellow corn, and dove cots, ^nd martin 
 boxes, with swallows twittering around them. All formed a 
 curious but pleasing picture. 
 
 We had sauntered about for an hour, when we were sum 
 moned to dinner. 
 
 " Follow me, gentlemen," said our host, as he led the wa) 
 to the house. We entered, and seated ourselves around i 
 good-sized table, upon which smoked several savory an«. 
 inviting dishes. Some of these we recognized as old ac- 
 quaintances, while others were new to us. We found venison 
 steaks with buffalo tongues and hump ribs — the daintiest 
 portions of that animal. There were fresh-cooked fowls, 
 and eggs of the wld turkey boiled and dressed in omelets. 
 There were bread and butter, and milk, and rich cheese, all 
 set out to tempt our appetites, that, to say the truth, just at 
 that time did not require much coaxing to do justice to the 
 viands before us. We were all quite hungry, for we had 
 eaten nothing since morning. A large kettle simmered by 
 the fire. " What could it contain ? " thought we ; " surely 
 not tea or coffee." In a short time we were satisiied on 
 this head. Bowls were placed before us ; and into these 
 the hot liquid was poured, which we found to be a very 
 palatable as well as wholesome beverage — the tea of *h^ 
 sassafras root. It was sweetened by maple sugar ; and e^ch 
 nelped himself to cream to his own liking. We had all 
 tasted such tea before, and many of our party liked it as well 
 as the tea of China. 
 
 While we continued to eat, we could not help noticing the 
 strangeness of everything around us. All the articles of 
 furniture were of unique and rude description ; and it was 
 plain that most of them had been manufactured upon the 
 spot. The vessels were of several sorts and of different 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 3 1 
 
 materials. There were cups and dishes, and bowls cut out of 
 shells of the gourd or calabash ; and there were spoons and 
 ladles of the same material. There were wooden platters 
 and trays carved and scooped out of the solid tree. And 
 more numerous were the vessels of red pottery, of different 
 shapes and for different uses. Of these there were large 
 pots for cooking, and jars for holding v/ater, and jugs of 
 various dimensions. 
 
 The chairs, too, were all of rude construction,, but ad- 
 mirably adapted to their purpose. Most of them were 
 covered with rawhide seats, which stretched up the back in 
 a slanting line, and thus rendered them firm and commodious. 
 A few lighter ones, evidently intended as the furniture of the 
 inner rooms, — there were but two in the house, — had 
 bottoms woven out of the leaves of the palmetto. 
 
 There was very little attempt at ornament upon the walls — 
 if we except some curiosities that were placed there, ail of 
 which were evidently the productions of the valley itself. 
 There were stuffed birds, of rare and bright plumage, and 
 huge horns of animals, with two or three shells of the land 
 tortoise, carefully polished. There were no mirrors nor pic- 
 tures, and not a book to be seen, except one ; that was a 
 medium-sized volume, placed on a small table by itself, and 
 evidently preserved with great care, as it had been neatly 
 and elaborately bound in the skin of a young antelope. I 
 had the curiosity to open this book, shortly after entering. 
 I read upon the title page the words, "Holy Bible." This 
 circumstance increased the interest I already felt in our host 
 and his family ; and T sat down with feelings of confidence, 
 for I knew that even in this remote place we were enjoying 
 the hospitality of a Christian. 
 
 During the meal, our host with his family were present. 
 We had seen them all on our arrival, for they had run for- 
 ward to greet and welcome us ; but vve became puzzled as 
 we listened to the conversation of the ( liildren. We I eard 
 with surprise that we were the first white men they had '^een 
 for a period of nearly ten years, lliey Vvere all bfti», tiful 
 
32 THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 children — robust, and full of life and animation. There 
 were two boys — Frank and Harry, so their mother called 
 them ; and two girls. Of the girls, one was of a very dark 
 complexion — in fact, quite a brunette, and with a Spanish ex- 
 pression of face. The other was as fair as her sister was 
 dark. The fair one was a beautiful little creature, with flow- 
 ing, yellow hair, and deep blue eyes, with long, dark lashes. 
 Her name was Mary. That of the sister was Luisa. They 
 were both very pretty, but very unlike each other ; and 
 what was odd to me, they appeared to be about the same age 
 and size. The boys were also of like size, though both 
 much older than their sisters. They appeared to be seven- 
 teen or more, but I could not have guessed which was the 
 elder. Harry, with his fair, curling hair, and red, manly 
 face, bore a strong resemblance to his father ; while the 
 other was darker, and altogether more like the mother. She 
 herself did not appear to be much over thirty-five years of 
 
 Age, and was still a beautiful and evidently a light-hearted 
 woman. 
 
 Our host was a man of about forty — a tall, well-formed 
 man, with light, ruddy complexion, and hair that had been 
 fair and curling, but was now somewhat gray. He had 
 neither beard nor whiskers ; but, on the contrary, his chin 
 bore evidence that he had freshly shaved himself that very 
 day ; and his whole appearance was that of a man who regu- 
 larly attended to the duties of the toilet. There was also 
 about him a gentleman-like bearing ; and his address and 
 conversation soon convinced all of us that we were in the 
 company of an educated man. 
 
 The dress of the whole family was peculiar. The man 
 himself wore a hunting shirt and leggings of tanned deer 
 skin, and not unlike that of our own hunters. The boys 
 were similarly attired, but we could see that they had a sort 
 of homespun linen garment underneath. The female part of 
 the family were dressed in clothes, part of which were of the 
 same homespun, and part of a fine skin, that of the fawn, 
 dressed to the softness of a glove. Several hats were lying 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 35 
 
 about ; and we noticed that they were curiously fabricated 
 from the leaves of the palmetto. 
 
 While we were eating, the negro appeared at the door, 
 and looking in, eyed us with glances of extreme curiosity. 
 He was a short, stout man, black as jet, and apparently 
 about forty years oM. His head was covered with a thick 
 crop of small curls, that appeared to form an even surface, 
 making the outline of the skull as round as a ball. His 
 teeth were very large and white and anything but fierce — 
 as he showed them only when he smiled, and that he did al- 
 most continually. There was something very pleasing in 
 the expression of his rich black eyes, which were never at 
 rest, but kept always rolling en both sides of his flat and 
 expanded nose. 
 
 " Cudjo, drive out these animals," said the woman, or 
 rather lady, we should call her- -for she was evidently en- 
 titled to be so styled. Her comni ind, or more properly re- 
 quest, — for she had made it in thaf. tone, — was obeyed with 
 alacrity. Cudjo leaped into the floor, and, after a short 
 while, succeeded in turning out the w^olf dogs, and panthers, 
 and other strange animals, that up to this time had been 
 snarling at each other, among our J eet, to the no small terror 
 of several of our party. 
 
 All these things were so strangvi, that w^e watched them 
 with interest and curiosity. At length our meal was ended ; 
 and as we were most anxious to have everything explained 
 to us, we signified this desire to our host. 
 
 " Wait until night," said he. " Around the cheerful log 
 fire I will tell you my story. Meanwhile, you all need other 
 refreshment than eating. Come to the lake, then, and take 
 a bath. The sun is high and warm. A bath will refresh 
 you, after your dusty travel." 
 
 So saying, he stepped out of the cottage, and proceeded 
 towards the lake, tollowed by all of our party. A few min- 
 utes after, we were refreshing ourselves in the crystal water. 
 
 During the remainder of the day, we occupied ourselves at 
 different employments. Some went back to the mountain 
 
34 THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 foot for the mules and Mexicans ; w liilc the rest of ns strolled 
 about the house and grounds, evn \' now and llicn stumbling 
 upon some new object of wonder. 
 
 We were impatient for the coming of night, for we were 
 wound up to a pitch of extreme curiosity, and longed for an 
 explanation of what we saw around us. 
 
 Night came at length ; and, after an excellent supper, we 
 rJl sat around the cheerful fire, to listen to the strange history 
 ol Robert Rolfe — ^for that was the name of our host. 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 35 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 rolfe's early history. 
 
 " Brothers," began he, " I am of your own race although 
 I am not an American. I am an Englishman. I was born 
 in the south of that country, something more than forty years 
 ago. My father was a yeoman — an independent, or, as he 
 was sometimes styled, a gentleman farmer. Unfortunately, 
 he was ajrnan of too much ambition for his class. He was 
 determined that 1, his only son, should be a gentleman, in 
 the ordinary sense of the word ; that is, that I should be 
 educated in all those expensive habits and accomplishments 
 which are sure to lead men of moderate fortune along the 
 direct road to ruin. This was not wise of my father ; but it 
 would not be grateful in me to reflect upon a fault that con- 
 sisted in his too great fondness for myself. I believe it was 
 the only fault which my good, kind father was ever charged 
 with. Beyond this somewhat foolish ambition, his character 
 was without reproach among men. 
 
 " I was sent to those schools where I should meet the 
 scions of the aristocracy. I was taught to dance, to ride, and 
 to play. I was allowed spending money at will ; and could 
 call for champagne, and drink it, with any of my convpanions. 
 At the end of my college life, I was sent upon my travels. I 
 made the tour of the Rhine, of France, and Italy ; and after 
 some years spent in this way, I returned to England — sent 
 for to be present at the death of my father. 
 
 " I was now sole heir to his property, which was by no 
 means inconsiderable for a man of his class. I soon reduced 
 it in bulk. I must needs live in London, where I could en- 
 joy the company of many of my old school and college com- 
 paniox^s. I was welcome amongst them while my purst held 
 
36 THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 out ; for many of them were needy men — lawyers without 
 briefs, and officers with nothing to Hve upon but their pay. 
 Of course, such men are fond of play. They have nothing 
 to lose, and all to win ; and it was but a short year or two, 
 until they had won from me the best part of my patrimonial 
 property. I was on the eve of becoming a bankrupt. But 
 one thing saved me — she saved me 1 " 
 
 Here our host pointed to his wife, who sat surrounded by 
 her family at one side of the great fireplace. The lady held 
 down her eyes and smiled, while the children, who had been 
 listening attentively, all turned towards her with looks of 
 interest. 
 
 *' Yes," continued he, " Mary saved me. We had been 
 playmates together in earlier life ; and at this time we again 
 met. We felt an affection for each other. It ended in our 
 getting married. 
 
 " Fortunately, my dissipated life had not destroyed, as it 
 often does with men, all my virtuous principles. Many of 
 these, that had been early instilled into my mind by the 
 teachings of a good mother, still remained fixed and true. 
 
 " As soon as we were married, I resolved to change al- 
 together my mode of life. But this is not so easily done as 
 men imagine. Once you are surrounded by associates, such 
 as mine were — once you are plunged into debts and obliga- 
 tions — it requires both courage and virtuous determination to 
 meet and discharge them. It requires a terrible effort to free 
 one's self from evil companions, whose interest it is that you 
 should still remain as profligate as themselves. But I was 
 resolved ; and, thanks to the counsels of my Mary, I suc- 
 ceeded in carrying out my resolve. 
 
 " To pay my debts, I was compelled to sell the property 
 left me by- my father. This done, and every bill discharged. 
 I found myself worth only five hundred pounds. 
 
 " My little wife, there, had brought me the sum of twenty- 
 five hundred ; and this still left us three thousand pounds 
 with which to begin the world. Three thousand pounds is 
 not much to live upon in England — that is, among the class 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 37 
 
 of people with whom we had hitherto associated ; and after 
 spending several years in trying to increase it, I found that it 
 was every day growing less. I found, after three years en- 
 gaged in farming, that my three thousand pounds was only 
 worth two. I was told that this sum would go much further 
 in America ; that it would purchase me a fine home ; and, 
 with thoughts of providing well for my family, I embarked 
 with my wife and children for New York. 
 
 " There I found the very man whom I wanted — that was, 
 some one to advise me how to begin life in the new world. 
 My predilections were in favor of agriculture ; and these 
 were encouraged by the advice of him whom I had met. 
 He told me that it would be unwise for me to lay out my 
 money upon new or uncleared land ; as, with my want of 
 experience as a farmer, I would have to pay more for clear- 
 ing it of its timber than the land would be worth. * It would 
 be better for you,' continued my new acquaintance, ' to buy 
 a tract already cleared and fenced, with a good house upon 
 it, where you will be at home at once.' 
 
 " I admitted the truth of all this reasoning ; but would 
 my money be sufficient for this ? ' O, yes,' answered he ; 
 and then he told me that he ' knew of a farm in the State 
 of Virginia' — a plantation, as he called it, that would 
 suit me exactly. It could be purchased for five hundred 
 pounds. With the remainder of my money, I should be able 
 to stock it handsomely. 
 
 " After some further conversation, I found that the plan- 
 tation belonged to himself. ' So much the better,' thought I ; 
 and in the end I bought it from him, and set out immedi. 
 ately after for my new home." 
 
38 THE DES Ikl liu.ME. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE VIRGINIA PLANTATION. 
 
 " I FOUND the farm everything he had described it — 
 a large plantation with a good wooden house, and well- 
 enclosed fields. I immediately set about ' stocking ' it 
 with my remaining cash. What was my surprise to find 
 that I must spend the greater part of this in buyi?ig men / 
 Yes ; there was no alternative. There were no laborers to 
 be had in the place, except such as were slaves ; and these 
 [ must either buy for myself, or hire from their masters, 
 H'hich, in point of morality, amounted to the same thing. 
 
 " Thinking that I might treat them with at least as much 
 humanity as they appeared to receive from others, I chose 
 the former course; and purchasing a number of blacks, 
 both men and women, I began life as a planter. After 
 such a bargain as that, I did not deserve to prosper ; and I 
 did not prosper, as you shall see. 
 
 " My first crop failed ; in fact, it scarce returned me 
 the seed. The second was still worse ; and to my mortifica- 
 tion, I now ascertained the cause of the failure. I had 
 come into possession of a ' worn out ' farm. The land 
 looked well, and, on sight, you would have called it a fer- 
 tile tract. When I first saw it myself, I was delighted with 
 my purchase, which seemed, indeed, a great bargain for the 
 small sum of money I had paid. But appearances are often 
 deceptive ; and never was there a greater deception than my 
 beautiful plantation in Virginia. It was utterly worthless. 
 It had been cropped for many years with maize, and cotton, 
 and tobacco These had been regularly carried off the 
 land, and not a stalk or blade suffered to return to the soil. 
 As a natural fact, known to almost every one, the vegetable 
 
THE DKSERT HOME. 30 
 
 or org^aaic matter will thus in time V>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 <idventures was of such a singular and dangerous 
 character, that you may feel interested in its narration. 
 
 " It occurred in the dead of winter, M'hen there was snow 
 upon the ground ; and, in fact, it was the severest winter we 
 experienced during our sojourn in the valley. 
 
 " The lake w^as frozen over, and the ice was as smooth 
 as glass. Of course, we spent much of our time in skating 
 about over its surface, as it gave us health and a good ap- 
 j)etite. Even Cudjo had taken a fancy for this amusement, 
 and was also one of the skaters. i*"rank was fonder ot ic 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 273 
 
 ihan any of us, and was, in fact, the best skater in our com- 
 munity. 
 
 " One day, however, neither Cudjo nor I had gone out, 
 but only Frank and Harry. The rest of us were busy at 
 some carpenter work within dcors. We could hear the merry 
 laugh of the boys, and the ring of their skates, as they 
 scoured over the smooth ice. All at once, a cry reached 
 our ears, which we knew betokened the presence of some 
 danger. 
 
 •' ' O Robert ! ' ejaculated my wife, ' they have broken 
 through the ice ! ' 
 
 " We all dropped what we held in our hands, and rushed 
 for the door. I seized a rope as I ran ; while Cudjo laid 
 hold of his long spear, thinking that that might best help us. 
 This was the work of a moment, and the next we were out- 
 side the house. What was our astonishment to see both the 
 boys, away at the farthest end of the lake, still upon their 
 feet, but skating towards us as fast as they could drive ! 
 At the same time, our eyes rested upon a terrible object. 
 Close behind them upon the ice, and following at full gallop, 
 was a pack of wolves ! They were not the small prairie 
 wolves, — which either of the boys might have chased with a 
 stick, — but of a species known as the ' great dusky wolf of 
 the Rocky Mountains. There were six of them all. Each 
 of them was twice the size of the prairie wolf, and their long, 
 dark bodies, gaunt with hunger, and crested from head to 
 tail with a high, bristling mane, gave them a most fearful 
 appearance. They ran with their ears set back, and their 
 jaws apart, so that we could see the red tongues and white 
 teeth. 
 
 " We did not halt a moment, but rushed onward for the 
 lake. I flung down the rope, and seized hold of a large rail 
 as I ran, while Cudjo hurried forward, brandishing his spear. 
 Mary, with presence of mind, turned back into the house 
 for my rifle. 
 
 " I saw that Harry was foremost, and that the fierce pur- 
 suers were fast closing upon Frank. This was strange, for 
 
274 THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 we knew that Frank was by far the best skater. We all 
 called out to him, uttering confused shouts of encomragement 
 Both were bearing themselves manfully, but Fraiik was most 
 in danger. The wolves were upon his heels ! ' O God 1 
 they will devour him ! ' I cried in my agony, expecting the 
 next moment to see him torn down upon the ice. What 
 was my joy at seeing him suddenly wheel, and dart off in a 
 new direction, with a shout of triumph ! The wolves, thus 
 ^jimbly eluded, now kept after Harry — who, in turn, became 
 the object of our anxiety. In a moment, they were upon 
 him ; but he, already warned by his brother, wheeled in a 
 similar manner ; while the fierce brutes, carried along by 
 the impetus of their race, swept to a considerable distance 
 upon the ice before they could turn themselves. Their long, 
 bushy tails, however, soon enabled them to veer round in 
 the new direction, and they galloped after Harry, who was 
 now the nearest to them. Frank, in the mean time, had 
 again turned, and came sweeping past behind them, uttering 
 loud shouts, as if to tempt them from their pursuit of Flarry. 
 They heeded him not, and again he changed his direction, 
 and as though he was about to skate into their midst, fol- 
 lowed the wolves. This time he shaved up close behind 
 them, just at the moment Harry had made his second angle 
 and escaped. 
 
 " At this juncture, we heard Frank calling out to his 
 brother to make for the shore ; while, instead of retreating, 
 he poised himself upon his skates until Harry had passed, 
 and then dashed off, followed by the whole pack. Another 
 slight turn brought him nearly in our direction ; but there 
 was a large hole broken through the ice close by the shore, 
 and we saw that, unless he turned again, he would skate 
 into it ! We thought he was watching the wolves too intent- 
 ly to see it, and we shouted to warn him. Not so ; he knew 
 better than we what he was about. When he had reached 
 within a few feet of the hole, he wheeled sharply to the left, 
 and came dashing up to the point where we stood to receive 
 him. The wolves, following in a close clump, and too intent 
 
IHK DKSJikl' HOME. 275 
 
 upon their cliase to see anything else, went sweeping past 
 the angle, and the next moment i)hinged into the broken ice! 
 Cudjo and I ran shouting forward^ and with the heavy rail 
 and long spear commenced dealing death amongst them. It 
 was but a short, though exciting scene. Five of them were 
 speared and drowned ; while the sixth succeeiled in crawling 
 out upon the ice, and was making off, frightened enou<yh at 
 die cold ducking he had got. I thought he was going to 
 escape us, but at that moment I heard the crack of a rifie 
 from behind, and the wolf tumbled over, howling like a shot 
 hound. On turning around I saw Harry with my rifle, 
 which Mary had brought down during the encounter, and 
 which she had intrusted to Harry, as a better marksman 
 than herself. The w^olf was still only wounded, kicking 
 furiously about upon the ice ; but Cudjo now ran out, and, 
 after a short struggle, finished the business with his spear. 
 " That was a day of great excitement in our little com- 
 munity. Frank, who was the hero of the day, although he 
 said nothing, was not a little proud of his skating feat. And 
 well might he, as, but for his maneuvers, poor Harry would 
 undoubtedly have fallen a prey to the fierce wolves." 
 
«76 THE DESERT HOME, 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 TAMING THE GREA.T ELK. 
 
 ** On the third year, our beavers had increased to such 
 numbers, that we saw it was time to thin them off, and com- 
 menced laying up our store of furs. They had grown sc 
 tame, that they would take food from our hands. We had 
 no difficulty, therefore, in capturing those we intended to 
 kill, without giving alarm to the others. For this purpose 
 we constructed a sort of pen, or by-pool, with raised mud 
 banks, near the edge of the lake, and a sluice gate leading 
 into it. Here we were accustomed to feed the animals ; and 
 whenever a quantity of roots of the swamp sassafras was 
 thrown into the pool, a large number of the beavers crowded 
 into it, so that we had nothing else to do but shut down the 
 sluice gate, and catch them at our leisure. We accomplished 
 all this very quietly : and as none that we trapped were ever 
 allowed to go back and ' tell the tale,' and as at all other 
 seasons the trap was open and free, of course, the surviving 
 beavers, with all their sagacity, never knew what became 
 of their companions, and did not even appear to suspect us 
 of foul play, but remained tame as ever. 
 
 "In our first crop of skins, we laid by at least 450/. worth, 
 with more than 50/. worth of " castoreum." In our second 
 year, we were enabled to do till better ; and the produce 
 of that season we estimate at 1000/. Wanting a place 
 to dry and store our furs, we built a new log cabin, 
 which is the one we are now living in. The old one be- 
 came our storehouse. 
 
 " The third year of our trapping was quite as productive 
 as the second ; and so with the fourth and fifth. Each of 
 them yielded at least 1 000/. worth of furs and ' castoreum ; ' 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 2// 
 
 SO that our old cabin now contains 4500/. of property, 
 which we have taken care to keep in good condition. Be- 
 sides, we estimate our Hve stock in the dam, which we can 
 trap at any time, at 2500/. more ; so that, you see, we are 
 worth in all 7000/. at this moment. Do you not think, my 
 friends, that we have realized the prediction of my wife, and 
 7nade a fortune in the desert ? 
 
 " As soon as we began to collect these valuable furs, a new 
 train of thougiit was suggested to us — when and how we 
 should bring them to a market. 
 
 " Here was a grand difficulty that stared us in the face. 
 Without a market in which to dispose of them, our furs 
 would be of no more use to us than a bag of gold would be 
 to a man dying with hunger in the middle of a desert. 
 Although surrounded with plenty for all our wants and neces- 
 sities, we were still, in a manner, imprisoned in our little 
 valley oasis. We could no more leave it than the castaway 
 sailor could leave his desert island. With all the animals 
 that were subject to us, none of them were beasts of burden 
 or drauglit — that is, except Pompo. He was old at the 
 time that these reflections first occurred to us ; and when 
 we should be ready to leave our valley in a few years more, 
 poor Pompo would be still older ; in fact, barely able to carry 
 himself, let alone a whole family of people, with several 
 thousand beaver skins to boot. 
 
 *' Although quite happy where we were, — for we were 
 always too much occupied to be otherwise, — these thoughts 
 would intrude upon us every now and then, and they gave 
 us a good deal of anxiety. 
 
 " As for Mary and myself, I believe we should have been 
 contented to remain where we were, and lay our bones in 
 this lovely but lonely spot. But we had others to think of 
 — our children. To them we had a duty to perform — the 
 duty of their education. We could not think of bringing 
 them up ignorant of the world, and leaving them to such a 
 wild and wayward fate as would be theirs. These reflections, 
 I have said, at times pressed heavily upon us. 
 
278 THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 " I proposed to my wife that I should take Pompo, and 
 endeavor to penetrate the settlements of New Mexico — 
 where I could obtain either mules, horses, or oxen. The^e 
 I should bring back to our valley, and keep them until we 
 required them for carrying us out of the desert. Mary 
 would not listen to this proposal. She would not consent 
 that we should be separated. ' We might never,' said she. 
 *see each other again.' She would not allow me to go. 
 
 " Indeed, when I reflected seriously on this matter, I sav/ 
 that it would have been useless for me to make the attempt. 
 Even could I have crossed the desert in safety, where was 
 the money wherewith to purchase these animals ? I had not 
 enough to buy either ox or ass. The people of New Mexico 
 would have laughed at me. 
 
 " ' Let us be patient,' advised my wife. ' We are happy 
 where we are. When the time arrives, and we are ready to 
 go forth, trust that the hand which brought us here can and 
 «//// guide us safely back again.' 
 
 " With such words of consolation my noble wife always 
 Winded our conversation on that subject. 
 
 " I looked upon her words as almost prophetic ; and so 
 they proved in this case, as on many other occasions. 
 
 " One day — it was about the fourth year of our sojourn in 
 the valley — we were talking on this very theme ; and Mary, 
 -as usual, had just expressed her firm reliance upon the hand 
 of Providence to deliver us from our strange captivity, when 
 our conversation was interrupted by Harry, who came run- 
 ning into the house, breathless with haste, and with looks fuL- 
 of triumph. 
 
 " * Papa I mamma 1 ' cried he ; * two elks — two young 
 elks — taken in the trap ! Cudjo is bringing them on in 
 the cart ; two beautiful young elks, about as big as year-old 
 calves.' 
 
 " There was nothing very new or strange in this announce% 
 ment. We had captured elk in the pitfall before ; and we 
 had several of them in our park — old ones. It was the 
 fact of their being ' young elk'-::^a sort we had not yet taken 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 279 
 
 — which had put Harry into an unusual state of excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " I thought nothing of it at the moment, but went out 
 along with Mary and the children to have a look at our new 
 pets. 
 
 " While Cud jo and the boys were engaged in putting them 
 into the park, all at once I remembered what I had read of, 
 but which had hitherto escaped my memory — that the great 
 American elk is capable of being trained as a beast either of 
 draught or burden. 
 
 " I need hardly tell you, my friends, that this thought at 
 once led to a series of reflections. Could these elk be 
 trained to draw a wagon — to draw us out of the desert ? 
 
 " I lost no time in communicating my thoughts to my wife. 
 She, too, had read of this ; in fact, in a London menagerie, 
 had seen the elk in harness. The thing, therefore, was 
 practicable. We resolved to use every effort to make it 
 so. 
 
 " Let me not weary you, my friends, A'ith details. We set 
 to work to train our young elk. No man knew better than 
 Cudjo how to break a pair of oxen to either plow or cart ; 
 and when the elk had grown big, Cudjo yoked them to the 
 plow, and turned up several acres ef ground with them. 
 During the winter, too, many a good load of dead wood did 
 Cudjo make them haul up to the word pile that supplied our 
 fire. In short, they worked, both in the plow and cait, as 
 gently as oxen." 
 
9&Q THE DESERT HOMJt, 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 CATCHING THE WILD HORSES. 
 
 •*We had accomplished a great object. Nothing re^ 
 mained but to train a sufficient number of elk for our pur- 
 pose. We trapped several fawns, and Cudjo proceeded in 
 breaking them as he had done the others. 
 
 " At this time, however, an event occurred which verified 
 my wife's prediction still more clearly, and proved that the 
 hand of God was over and around us. 
 
 " One morning, a little after daybreak, and just before we 
 had risen, we were all thrown into a state of consternation 
 by a noise that came from without. It was the rampling of 
 hoofs — of many hoofs ; and there was no difficulty in per- 
 ceiving that horses were about the house. Their neighing 
 proved this ; for Pompo had neighed in his stable, and we 
 could hear a dozen of them uttering their loud responses. 
 
 " ' Indians ! ' thought we ; and we gave ourselves up for 
 Jost, 
 
 " We all ran to our arms. Harry, Frank, and I seized 
 hold of our rifles, while Cudjo betook himself to his great 
 spear. I opened one of the windows, and looked cautiously 
 cut. Horses they were, sure enough, but no horsemen. 
 There they were, — in all nearly a dozen of them, — white, 
 black, red, speckled and spotted like hounds. They were 
 dashing about through the open ground, neighing, snorting, 
 rearing at each other, and tossing back their long, flowing 
 manes, while their tails swept away behind them in beautiful 
 luxuriance. There were they, without bridle or saddle, or 
 any other sign that the hand of man had ever touched them. 
 And never had it. I saw at a glance what they were. They 
 were mustangs — the wild Ji^ses of the desert. 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 28 1 
 
 A 3 were not long in resolving how to act. It war* 
 evident they had come up the stream from the eastern plains; 
 and, seeing the valley, had been tempted by its greenness, 
 and had strayed into it. Our design, then, was at once 
 formed, and that was to prevent them from getting out 
 again. 
 
 "This could be accomplished very easily, by closing up 
 the road which led down to the valley ; but how were we to 
 get to it without giving them the alarm ? They were play- 
 ing directly in front of the house, and we could not pass out 
 of the door without showing ourselves. This would at once 
 set them off in a wild gallop, and we should never see more 
 of them. We knew they would not allow us to approach 
 them — for we had seen several bands of them while crossing 
 the prairies, and those would not allow our hunters to ge<; 
 within less than a mile of them. This is a curious fact- — 
 that the horse, which you would suppose to be the natural 
 companion of man, once he has escaped from captivity, and 
 goes wild, becomes more shy of man than any other animal, 
 and more difficult to be approached. He seems to have an 
 idea of what is wanted with him, and is determined not to 
 return to slavery. I had never seen a drove of wild horses ; 
 but the thought occurred to me, that there was some old 
 * runaM^ay ' among them, who told the rest how he had been 
 used, and cautioned them to keep clear of us. Certain it 
 is, that the wild horse is the wildest of all animals. 
 
 " How, then, were we to get out, and circumvent the drove ? 
 That was soon decided. Telling Cudjo to bring his ax and 
 follow Me, I climbed out at the back window of our cabin ; 
 and keeping the house between us and the horses, we crept 
 along past our storehouse and stable, and got into the wocds 
 in the rear. We skirted through the woods, and soon reached 
 the point where the road runs out of the valley. Here Cudjo 
 set lustily to work with his ax ; and in half an hour w^^ had 
 f jUed a tree across the track, completely blocking it up vVe 
 took care to make it secure, by adding several rails, in such 
 a way that no horse without wings could get over it This 
 
48a THE DESERr HOME. 
 
 done, we gave ourselves no further concern about being seen 
 by the mustangs ; and, shouldering our implements, we 
 marched back to the house. Of course, the moment the 
 i\^ild horses saw us, they galloped off into the woods ; but 
 we did not care for that, as we could easily find them again. 
 And find them we did. Pompo was saddled and bridled ; a 
 lasso was made out of rawhide ropes ; and in less than three 
 days the whole caba'Jada of wild horses — eleven in all — was 
 shut up in our park. 
 
 " Now, my friends, I fear I have quite tired you with our 
 adventures. I might relate many more, and perhaps at some 
 future time may do so. I might tell you how we caught and 
 tamed the wild sheep and the antelopes ; how we captured 
 the young buffaloes on the upper plains, and tamed them, 
 and made cheese and butter from their milk; how we 
 reared up the kittens of the cougar and the cubs of the black 
 bear ; how the wild geese, and swans, and cranes, and 
 pelicans migrated to our lake, and became quite tame with 
 us ; how Cudjo and I, with our horses, made a journey across 
 the desert to the * Camp of Sorrow,' as we called the place 
 where our friends had been massacred ; how we picked out 
 two of the best of the wagons, and with the gunpowder which 
 we took from the bombshells, and many other useful articles, 
 returned again to our valley. These, and many other ad' 
 ventures with wolves and wolverines, with panthers and pec- 
 caries, and porcupines and opossums, I might detail to you ; 
 but no doubt you are already wearied with the length of my 
 story. 
 
 *' It is now nearly ten years since our arrival in this valley 
 oasis. During all that time, we have lived contented and 
 happy ; and God has favored our efforts, and crowned them 
 with success. But our children have grown up almost wild, 
 as you see — with no other education than that which we our- 
 selves have been able to impart to them ; and we are anx- 
 ious, on their account, once more to return to the civilized 
 world. It is our intention, then, to proceed to St. Louis in 
 the spring. For this purpose, we have everything ready, — 
 
THE DESERT HOME. 2'53 
 
 our v/agons, and horses, and furs, — all except those which 
 we intend to trap in the ensuing winter. I know not whether 
 we may ever return to this sweet spot — which will be always 
 dear to us from a thousand memories. That will depend 
 upon circumstances arising in the future, and which we 
 cannot now foresee. It is our intention, however, on leav- 
 ing the valley, to throw open their bars, and set all our 
 captives free — to let them return once more to their wild 
 independence. 
 
 " And now, my friends, I have but one request to make of 
 you. It is late in the season. You have lost your trail; 
 and, as you all know, it is very perilous to attempt crossing 
 praires in winter. Remain with me, then, until spring, and 
 let us all go together. The winter will be a short one ; and 
 I shall endeavor to make it pass pleasantly for you. I can 
 promise you plenty of hunting adventures ; and, when the 
 proper season arrives, we shall have a grand battue of the 
 beavers. Speak, then ! What say you to remain ? " 
 
 I need hardly tell you, my young reader, that we at once 
 accepted the proposal. Our friend M'Knight would of 
 course remain, on account of the little Luisa ; and as for the 
 rest of us, Ave knew^ well the hardships we should have to 
 encounter, should w^e travel the great plains during winter. 
 We knew that in that latitude, as Rolfe had said, the winter 
 w^ould be a short one ; and therefore we should not lose 
 much time by staying until spring. The strange wdld life 
 which we should lead had charms for all of us ; and we 
 willingly consented to remain. 
 
 As Rolfe promised, we had many hunting adventures ; 
 and among the rest the battue of beavers — nearly two thou- 
 sand of which were trapped and taken. 
 
 As soon as spring arrived, we made ready to set forth. 
 Three wagons were prepared — two of them loaded with furs 
 and valuable castoreum. The third carried the females — 
 while Rolfe and his sons rode upon horseback. The walls 
 of the deer park were broken down, and the aviaries thrown 
 open ; and after distributing plenty of food to the numerous 
 
284 THE DESERT HOME. 
 
 pets, we left them to themselves, and took our departure 
 from the valley. We struck northward for the old trail, and 
 on reaching it turned our faces for St. Louis — where we ar- 
 rived in the month of May, and where Rolfe soon after sold 
 his furs for a large sum of money. 
 
 It is now several years since that time ; and during the 
 interval, I, — the writer of this little book, — living in a dis- 
 tant country, heard nothing more about Rolfe or his family. 
 A few days ago, however, I received a letter from Rolfe 
 himself, which gave me the gratifying intelligence that they 
 were all well, and in excellent spirits. Frank and Harry 
 had just finished their college studies, and had come out 
 accomplished scholars and sterling men. Mar}' and Luisa 
 ■ — Luisa was still one of the family — had returned from 
 school. Besides this, Rolfe's letter contained some very 
 interesting intelligence. No less than four marriages were 
 in contemplation in his family. Harry was about to wed 
 the little " dark sister," Luisa. Frank had come to an un- 
 derstanding with a fine young lady, the daughter of a Missouri 
 planter; and the fair-haired, blue-eyed, rosy-lipped Mary 
 had enslaved a young " prairie merchant," one of those who 
 had spent the winter with us in the valley oasis, and who 
 had been very gallant to Mary all along the journey home- 
 ward. But who was to be the fourth couple ? Ah ! that 
 question we must leave for Cudjo and his " lubbly Lucy ^ 
 to answer, 
 
 Rolfe's letter further informed me that it was their inten- 
 tion — as soon as the marriage festivities were over--tt> 
 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 
 
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 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. 
 Pocket Edition in Boards, 50c. 
 Strong Flexible Cloth . . 75c. 
 Sent postpaid on receipt of price. 
 
 Language Series for Self -Instruction in Conversation 
 and Reading through a simplified course of Easy 
 Lessons for learners of Either Language. 
 
 Specially Prepared by 
 Prof. C. M. STEVENS, Ph.D. , ^ 
 
 Author of Dictionaries and Instruction Books in Freoch. Span- 
 ish, Italian, German, Swedish, and Nor\A'egian-Danish. etc. 
 
 Each of these CONVERSATION TEACHERS contains an 
 e>i;ensive Conversation and Reading Vocabulary ,_ with thor- 
 ough information and exercises on the Pronunciation of Both 
 Languages for students of either nationality. 
 
 For sale by all book and newsdealers or sent postpaid to any 
 address in the United States, Canada or Mexico, upon receipt 
 of price in currency, stamps, postal or express money order. 
 
 M. A. DONOHUE ^ CO. 
 
 41/7-429 Dearborn St. Chicago, U. S. A. 
 
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. Kingston 
 
 Afloat in the Forest Reid 
 
 All Aboard Oliver Optic 
 
 Among the Malays Henty 
 
 Boat Club Oliver Optic 
 
 Bonnie Prince Charlie. Henty 
 
 Bound to Rise Alger, Jr. 
 
 Boy Knight The Henty 
 
 Brave and Bold Alger, Jr. 
 Bravest of the Brave.. Henty 
 
 By England's Aid Henty 
 
 By Pike and Djiie Henty 
 
 By Sheer Pluck Henty 
 
 Capt. Bayley's Heir. ...Henty 
 
 Cash Boy, The Alger, Jr. 
 
 Cast Up by the Sea Baker 
 
 Cornet of Horse Henty 
 
 Desert Home — Mayne Reid 
 For Name and Fame. . . Henty 
 
 For the Temple Henty 
 
 Friends tho' Divided. . . Henty 
 
 Golden Canon Henty 
 
 Hero of Pine Ridge.. .Butler 
 In Freedom's Cause... Henty 
 In the Reign of Terror. Henty 
 
 In Times of Peril Henty 
 
 Jack Archer Henty 
 
 Jack Harkaway's School 
 Days Hemyng 
 
 29. Julius the Street Boy. Alger, Jr 
 
 30. Lion of St. Mark Henty 
 
 31. Lion of the North Henty 
 
 32. Lone Ranch Mayne Reid 
 
 33. Now or Never.. .Oliver Optic 
 
 34. One of the 28th. . ...... Henty 
 
 35. Out on the Pampas Henty 
 
 36. Pathfinder. Fenimore Cooper 
 
 37. Paul the Peddler.. .Alger, Jr. 
 
 38. Pilot, The.. Fenimore Cooper 
 
 39. Poor and Proud. Oliver Optic 
 
 40. Rifle Rangers Mayne.Reid 
 
 41. Risen from the Ranks. .Alger 
 
 42. Robinson Crusoe.. .D. DeFoe 
 
 43. Scalp Hunters.. .Mayne Reid 
 
 44. Slow and Sure Alger, Jr. 
 
 4.5. Star of India E.S.Ellis 
 
 46. Store Boy, The Alger, Jr, 
 
 47. Strive and Succeed. Alger, Jr. 
 
 48. Strong and Steady.. Alger, Jr. 
 
 49. Sturdy and Strong Henty 
 
 50. Through the Fray Henty 
 
 51. Try Again Oliver Optic 
 
 52. Uncle Tom's Cabin Stowe 
 
 53. With Clive in India.... Henty 
 
 54. Young Buglers Henty 
 
 55. Young Carthaginians.. Henty 
 
 56. Young Colonists Henty 
 
 57. Young Midshipman .. .Henty 
 
 58. Young Outlaw, The . Alger, Jr, 
 
 For sale by all Book and Newsdealers, or will be sent to any address 
 
 in the U. S., Canada or Mexico, post paid, on receipt of price- 
 
 75c eacti, in currency, money order or stamps^ 
 
 M. A. 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.&lt^^^ 
 
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. Thousands have foimd a laugh in 
 every line— 2400. How many cru you find? Read and s:* 
 
 Taper Co-der in Colors, Trice 2Sc. 
 
 For sale by all book and news dealers or sent postpaid to any 
 address in the United States, Canada or Mexico upon receipt Ot 
 price in currency, postal or express money order. 
 
 M. A. DO/fOHUB tSi. CO., 
 
 4^07-4-29 "Dearborn Sireet. CHICAGO 
 
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