_
Recovery, and continuation of their journey. A joyous prospect. They discover a Lake. It changes to gloom. Discovered and followed by Indians. They finally escape, though compelled to leave their baggage, &c.. They wander on, unconscious of their way. Discover a beautiful valley, by which they encamp and rest themselves. Their journey continued. They meet with friendly Indians, who offer them their hospitality. The Indians give them cheering intelligence. They rest with them a few days. Six weeks had now elapsed, and they, with their horses, were fairly recovered from the wearying effects of their journey over the desert, and they were ready to launch once more on the unknown barren waste before them. Large quantities of fish and fowl had been provided--some by smoking, and others by drying--which, together with the fresh and dried fruits and vegetables they had secured, they calculated would last them five or six days. There were no animals of any kind, consequently they had not such facilities for preparation of dried meats as before; and being without any salt, it was both inconvenient and difficult for them to preserve their provisions. Loading their horses with what they had prepared, and with a supply of water and grass, they set out on foot, for it would be impossible for the beasts to carry them and the baggage, and they would be obliged to travel on foot for two days at least, until the provisions were consumed sufficiently to relieve the beasts of part of the weight. It was now mid-summer: they knew that by the intense heat that poured its scorching rays upon them so that they were obliged to halt before noon, and entrench themselves behind a mass of rock they found, to protect themselves from its burning rays. When the greatest heat of the day was over, they again set out, and after an hour's travel, came in sight of a dense forest, which they reached long before the sun had set. They now laughed heartily at the idea of their sojourn on the oasis so long, preparing with so much pains and anxiety for so short a journey. Whithersoever they went they found the forest increasing in fertility, and they knew by the extent of it this time, they had reached the main land, and had really crossed an immense desert.
They were not all joyous feelings that agitated them that night; for on every hand they saw traces of Indians, and should they prove to be unknown, hostile tribes, they feared sad consequences. The night passed, however, quietly enough; and when morning broke, they set out, taking the precaution to move cautiously along, and though they often came upon places where Indians had encamped to cook their meals, and sometimes found the brands of fires still smoking, they had the good fortune to travel three days without falling in with them. On the fourth day, about noon, as they were turning the bend of a stream that wound round a hill, they were suddenly confronted by a party of five fierce looking savages, entirely naked, who seemed to be as much surprised at the meeting as they were, for they stopped, glanced wildly around them a moment, and then precipitately fled.
"Well, chief," said the trapper, "how do you like the looks of these customers?"
"They are a people I know nothing of, and this is the first time they have ever seen a pale face."
"I fear we have not mended matters by crossing the desert," said Jane, sadly. "The sight of Indians does not speak well for our speedy return to the land of civilization."
"Let not the antelope be fearful. Strong hearts and hands are still around her," said the chief.
"Which can avail but little against the hordes of savages that infest these wilds," remarked Jane.
"What is that Jane? You were lecturing me awhile ago, about doing our best,--courage, &c.--and leaving the rest for time to unravel," said Edward, cheerily.
"I am glad you reminded me of it," said Jane, "for the old feeling of despair was fast creeping into my heart."
"I do not see anything to fear," remarked Sidney, "evidently the savages are afraid of us, and if they are not, so long as they run away from us, we are surely safe enough."
"You do not know the treachery of the Indians who apparently infest these regions," said Jane. "Perhaps they are cannibals, and it would then be terrible to fall into their hands."
"The Indians are not naturally treacherous; but the wrongs they have endured have perverted their nature, and they meet treachery by the treachery they have learned while smarting under it," said the trapper.
"The white chief speaks like one of us," said Whirlwind, proudly. "We have endured wrong and suffering, and been submissive; but, at last, goaded to resistance, our lands were drenched with the blood of our wives and children, because our warriors dared to strike a blow for freedom. All this we have suffered, and must finally suffer extinction, while the pale faces will thrive on the soil enriched by our blood, and to future ages hold us up as a nation notorious for all the vices and crimes ever known, even that of drunkenness, which the Indian never knew until the white man came to our then peaceful shores."
"You are not all treacherous, even now," said the trapper, "and whether the tribe is to which these belong is for the future to determine. One thing is certain, we must keep out of their hands if possible, and to do this, we had better ride on as fast as we can, and place as great a distance between us and them as we can before dark; for, if they interfere with us, it will be undertaken after we are encamped for the night."
Much to their relief, they were not molested, although they were kept in constant excitement by seeing the Indians hanging on their trail, keeping at a proper distance from them, halting when they halted, and travelling when they travelled. This continued for several days, and then the Indians entirely disappeared, greatly to the relief of our wanderers.
For the last few days they had been travelling first in one direction and then in another--alas! they knew not whither, perfectly bewildered. They seemed to be disheartened in pursuing a regular course, and went where their judgments dictated for the hour, perhaps retracing their steps the next. One afternoon they came to a high, rolling part of the forest, which terminated at the foot of a range of hills rearing their heads in mural peaks, and on ascending them, they found that they overlooked a beautiful plain below, in the centre of which a vast lake stretched away over many miles, and lay nestled in that wilderness like a gem in a setting of emerald. This lake was studded with numerous islands which were heavily timbered, and formed a beautiful scene. Taking a circuitous route so as to reach the lake in safety, they encamped on its banks as the last rays of the setting sun were reflected in golden gushes from its placid bosom and nestling isles. As they gazed on the enchanting scene before them, it seemed as if nature had reserved all her beauties for this chosen spot, denying to the vast desert they had traversed fertility enough to make it inhabitable.
On the opposite side of the lake arose precipitous ridges, varying in height from five hundred to a thousand feet, covered with the balsam-pine, whose dark stately green, formed a magnificent contrast with the graceful foliage of the aspen, which bordered the lake. A curious phenomenon here attracted their attention. Beneath the transparent waters of the lake were distinctly visible, trees of enormous proportions, standing erect, with the leaves and branches entire, looking as though they had grown there, or been sunken in their watery bed. Making themselves a raft of dry wood, they explored every part of the lake, and found beneath them in the water the same forest-like appearance, and they concluded that the lake had once been unobstructed, and that there had been an immense land-slide which had precipitated itself from the ridge over which they had entered the valley into the lake; part of the wood drifting on the surface, had formed itself into the little isles, while the rest had become submerged, and still rested at a great depth beneath the waters that closed placidly over its topmost branches.
Innumerable fowl filled the branches of the trees in these isles, while countless numbers of them were sporting in the water, undisturbed by the intrusion of our wanderers. Evidently they had never seen man before, and had yet to learn he would prey on their numbers to sustain life. Here they also found the salmon trout, grown to great size, so large that one was enough for a supper for the whole party. There were also great quantities of tender grass which, growing undisturbed in a constant shade, was as tender, and which the horses cropped with as much avidity, as the grasses of early spring, although now the mid-summer, with scorching sun, was upon them.
Not a trace of a native was visible, and the whole valley, nestled among the high ridges on every side, had probably never before echoed to the voice of civilized man, or the soil pressed by his foot, for ages on ages--at least, by any race now known. Perhaps, too, thousands of years ago a race knew of its existence, when the world was young, if that time ever was. For the world is always young to the young, but when old age comes on, it becomes hoary to his heart also. The heart of every man is his world. When it is young, joyous, and happy, the world is seen through the emotions that hold his soul in rosy meshes, and it is thus tinged to his sight with youth, love, hope, and a joy that fills the heart with a fulness and ecstasy of happiness that leaves nothing further to be desired. Let the rosy meshes fall, and hoary age, or the long list of hours of a misspent life, hold up another scene, in which despair contends with the waning hours, and sombre clouds obscure the future! Then the world is always old, always sad, hard, and cold; and man learns too late that the beauty and gracefulness of age can be only with the heart that is still young, though it has seen long years--and that, to enjoy life to the latest hour, the heart must still be kept green.
As enchanting as this valley was, they dared not spend a day in it longer than was necessary, and with reluctance they left it to launch forth, they knew not where. Crossing over the ridge, they came to a high table land, broad, and over which a fresh pure air constantly circulated. This was lightly timbered, and they feared another desert was before them. They were, however, relieved from this fear by coming to a high range of hills, which, on crossing, they found a succession of ridges, the first ridge having hid the summits of the others; as they crossed one after another, they became more and more entangled among them, and continued for two days wandering among shady dells, and over rocky, craggy precipices, until they sat down at night exhausted, with their flesh torn by the thorns and stones over which they had made their way. For the last two days, they had been unable to ride, the ground being so broken that they found it quite as much as their beasts were able to do, to make their way along unburthened, and now they were lame, their hoofs being much bruised, and the flesh around the hoofs swollen. Selecting a narrow defile, the best spot for a camp they could find, they turned their horses loose to graze, having no fear they would run away, and then turned to provide for their own wants.
This was soon over, and then they lay down to rest. When the morning broke, their horses had disappeared, and on examining the trail where they went, they discovered they had been led away in Indian file, having been stolen by savages. Here, now, was new trouble for them; for, without doubt, the Indians would hang around, and attack them, perhaps, the first moment it suited them, or that they could be sure of success.
"There was but a small party of them last night that stole the horses; I am sure of that, and they will return with augmented numbers very soon, or I shall be deceived," said the trapper.
"We can fight as well as they," said the chief; "so let them beware."
"Yes, we can do that; but we must get out of this spot. There is not an uglier one in the whole continent to be attacked in," replied the trapper.
"How can we get away? our horses gone, and if here, would be as helpless almost as we are, and ourselves so worn out that very little life is left in us," said Jane, in a desponding tone.
"While there is life there is hope," said the trapper. "Do not give up so, we have passed too many severe trials to despair at the loss of our horses."
"Than which, a greater calamity could not have happened," said Sidney; "but, as uncle says, we must get out of this place, for if we are obliged to defend ourselves, we shall stand but little chance of doing it effectually, hemmed in here."
"Look! look! and save yourselves; we are too late!" cried Edward, pointing upward towards the top of the precipice that overhung the defile, and from which, as they raised their eyes, they saw a dozen savages on its verge, in the act of hurling a shower of rocks upon them.
The savages, seeing their whereabouts was discovered, set up an unearthly yell, which was given back by the chief with one of defiance, as he darted behind a tree, an act the rest had performed at the first moment of alarm. The stones and arrows flew around them like hail, but glancing against the large trunks of the trees behind which they were entrenched, fell harmless at their feet. After keeping up this mode of warfare upwards of an hour to no purpose, they held a council on the cliff, and after a short debate dispersed again, but now about half of the number began to let themselves down by catching hold of the saplings that grew along the cliff, and bending them, held on to the tops until they obtained a foothold several feet below, and then repeating the operation until they were two-thirds down. The chief said to Howe, "It will never do to let them among us--better pick them off before they get down."
"So I think," returned the trapper; "you stop the swinging of the lower one, and I will take the next."
Drawing their bows, two messengers of death hissed through the air, propelled by strong, true hands, and the two lower savages fell to the ground, striking on the very stones they had hurled down from the summit, and were horribly crushed and mutilated. The rest seeing the fate of their comrades, with a wild cry of alarm quickly swung themselves up again, and the whole party precipitously fled. The savages had evidently supposed they were unarmed, and on finding to the contrary, had probably retired to take counsel how to more safely carry their point.
"Now," said the chief, "is our time to save ourselves; for they are exasperated at the loss of the two warriors, and will never rest satisfied until they have destroyed us, if we remain within their reach."
Starting down the ravine, for about a mile, they ascended a cleft-like formation of the hills, which terminated at the base of an overhanging precipitous ledge of rocks rising two hundred feet above them, with rents occasionally along the line, extending from the top to the bottom in yawning chasms, in one of which they hoped to shield themselves from further pursuit. Ascending one of these chasms to the top of the ledge, they saw the savages running to and fro along the valley in search of them, having evidently lost the trail, much to their satisfaction, for now they could gain on their pursuers.
Following up their present advantages, they descended the mountain on the other side, and finding themselves at the foot of another less lofty, ascended it also, from which they saw before them a beautiful plain, level and well timbered, stretching away as far as the eye could reach. It was now dark, and secreting themselves the best they could, they spent the night supperless; for, alas! they had nothing to eat; their whole stock of provisions, furs, gourds, kettle, and, indeed, every article they had accumulated, being left behind them in their flight from the savages. Very little game was to be found on the mountains; but as day dawned, they struck out on the plain, hoping to find abundance.
The sun had far advanced, and they had become faint and weary, when they came to a stream which was filled with excellent fish, from which, with some berries and roots, they made a plentiful repast. While despatching this, deer came to the water to drink, and a fine doe was shot by the trapper, much to their satisfaction. Cutting it up, they shouldered it, and pursued their way. At nightfall they halted much exhausted, and had the savages then found them, they would have fallen an easy prey. But as they saw nothing of them they hoped they had relinquished the pursuit.
The next and the next day, they found themselves too sore and lame to move, and the third attempting to travel, they proceeded about three miles, when they gave out, building a bough hut by a clear spring of water, and resolved to stop until better fitted for travelling. No traces of Indians were visible, and they now found their greatest foes were beasts of prey, with which it seemed as if this part of the forest was filled. They managed, however, to spend three weeks without sustaining any serious injury from them, although they nightly prowled around their camp.
The days now began to shorten perceptibly, and the nights to lengthen, and the disagreeable truth forced itself upon them that the summer was waning, and they were as far, for aught they knew, as ever, from attaining the sole object of their lives,--their lost friends. Crossing the plain which extended many miles, they came to another range of hills which was so barren that they endeavored to avoid crossing it by going around them, and with this object, followed them down two day's journey, when they found the hills decreased to half their former height, and assuming a more fertile appearance, so they started to go over them. On arriving at the summit a scene of grandeur met their vision, although it appalled the stoutest hearts. Before them, stretching away in the distance and rising until its summit, capped with snow, pierced the clouds, a range of mountains lay--a formidable barrier over which they knew they ought not to go--and then came the conviction that they had wandered to the foot of the great barrier that separated the Pacific from the vast unexplored sandy desert, and the snowy peaks that rose before them were those of the Sierra Nevada. Now they were more certain of their whereabouts than they had been before; for, though they had never seen the great Sierra, they had heard of it often and knew the snows never left its summit, and to attempt to cross it was a feat they had no disposition to undertake. They knew moreover, that their friends were this side of the great Mountain, and that the desert they had passed must consequently have been between them. Then came the conviction that they had not wandered round the desert before they had crossed it, as they supposed, but had been on the eastern side instead of the western, and had from that moment been travelling directly from home during the journey in which they had endured so much, forced itself upon them. And yet, with the certainty of these facts, they did not dare to turn back and retrace their steps, for to do so in the bewildered and weakened state in which their minds and bodies were, would be almost sure destruction, could they hope or attempt to make their way through the territories of the savages that they had so fortunately evaded in their journey thither.
Long they stood on the summit of that mountain, their position commanding a view of the country for many miles around them, overlooking everything but the great Sierra that lifted its hoary head above them, as if commanding them to retreat. Awe and terror held them in breathless silence for a while, when a half sob was heard, and Jane pressed her hand tightly over her mouth to restrain the emotion which, in her weakened state, she could not control. Seeing her distress, the chief took her gently by the arm, and led the way down the mountain, until they came to a spring, where they stopped, kindled a fire, cooked their supper, and as the night air bid fair to be very cold before morning, built a temporary shelter of boughs. With a large fire burning to frighten beasts and dispel the damp air, they laid down to sleep.
Refreshed the next morning, they were better fitted to calmly reflect on their condition than the night before; still they were unable to form any decided course to pursue further than to remain through that day near their present encampment. After breakfasting, they descended to the valley, and there, to their surprise, found an encampment of Indians. Frightened, they turned to ascend the mountain, when the Indians came running towards them making unmistaken signs of friendship.
"They are friendly tribes, thank Heaven! for it betokens assistance when we least expected it," said Howe, joyfully, as he advanced to meet them.
"You had better be careful, uncle, and not get in their power, as they may prove treacherous," cried Jane.
The chief turned with a sorrowful look to her, and said,
"The pale faced maiden has no faith in the words of her darker skinned brothers. Is it because they have wronged her people more than they have suffered wrong; or because they dared in their manhood to defend, to the last moment, the houses of their wives and children, and the graves of their kindred?"
"No, no; not that, chief," said Jane, earnestly. "Why let such thoughts forever disturb you? Some cannot be trusted, and these may be of the number, for that reason I bade uncle be cautious. You, we never suspected, and you wrong us in being so sensitive on this subject."
"It would be a fearful thing," returned the chief, "to see your race and kindred blotted from existence, to see their homes and pleasant places occupied by those who may be the cause of their extinction, and to know when the last of the race shall have departed, their name will be held synonymous with treachery and cruelty to futurity! Maiden! maiden!" added he, with a wild look, distorting his dark features, "may you never experience the torture of this feeling, nor the agony that hourly and yearly is mine."
"Think you, chief, the sorrow you feel for the extinction of your people is greater than that the people felt whom you extinguished in ages gone by, and whose existence can be traced only by the works of art they left behind them, which alone have survived, and still defy ages to come?"
"Listen to me, girl; for I speak from the promptings of the
Great Spirit. The day may come when no longer our lands shall be yours, for another race may arise and avenge my people by the extinction of your own. You will be spared the torture of seeing it, as I do the struggles of my people. Nevertheless, the day will come when this shall be." So saying, with a hasty step and defiant brow, he turned from her, and joined the group of Indians who were conversing with Howe, Sidney, and Edward.
These Indians had evidently seen white men, or heard of them before; but could not speak a word of English, or any dialect the wanderers understood. They were, however, very communicative, and by signs and lines drawn on pieces of bark, gave them to understand that two moons' journey down the mountains was a pass over them, and on the other side there were plenty of people like themselves. But as it was now getting late in the season, they had better defer their journey until spring came again. At the same time they offered to take them in their village, and provide for them until they could depart in safety. They would not listen to this proposition, but accepted with eagerness their hospitality for a few days, in order to have an opportunity of making further inquiries as to the route and locality of the country they would have to pass through. _