Chapter XXIII (8)

"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.

Chapter Eighteenth.

Thirty persons in the village. Their stay with the Indians. They proceed on their journey. Jane bitten by a rattlesnake. Taken back to the village. Frightful effects of the poison. It causes a violent fever to set in. Fatal consequences apprehended. She becomes delirious. The chief's unremitting exertions to counteract the disease. It slowly abated and Jane finally recovers. A war party returns having two white prisoners. Fears entertained of their safety. Minawanda assists them to escape by a sound indicating that of a whippoorwill. The white men also accompany them as guides. Their joy at their anticipated deliverance from the wilds of the forests. Miscellaneous conversation. They proceed on their flight unmolested.

There were about thirty persons in the lodges, the rest of the Indians, with their women and children, having gone out on one of their yearly hunting expeditions, as well for the excitement as for the supplies which they gather from them. These few were left to look after the village in the absence of the rest, and were principally those who were too old or ill to travel and hunt. After remaining a few days to prepare themselves, they set out, persuading an old Indian to accompany them as a guide two days' journey, in order to get them once more started in the right direction. They had no hope of returning directly to their friends. In fact, they knew that would be an impossibility to do by crossing the Sierra, and their object at that time was to find a settlement where they might know their whereabouts, and in what direction to go in order to return. The old Indian was positive there were people like themselves over the mountain of snow, and knowing they must have wandered a great way to come to it, they determined to make the most direct route to the nearest European habitation; for they had wandered so long that their friends had become a secondary object with them. Their first thoughts were to free themselves from the interminable forest, and sustain life.

About mid-day, as they were making their way among a thick growth of brush, a quick rattle was heard, which they all recognized as the warning of a deadly snake; but before they could save themselves, it had struck its poisonous fangs deep into the fleshy part of Jane's right foot.

Howe saw the snake bite her, and was at her side in a moment, and with a heavy club killed the terrible reptile on the spot. He then proceeded to bind the limb to prevent a free circulation of the blood, which in a few minutes would have conveyed the poison to the heart, and proved fatal. In the meantime, the chief and Sidney had been gathering an herb, which they bruised between two flat stones and poured over the wound, and put a few drops of the juice in her mouth.

She soon began to suffer excruciating pain, the limb swelling rapidly and turning a livid hue, while the bruised herbs which were bound over the wound every few minutes had to be exchanged for fresh ones, so rapidly did the poison act upon them.

"I feel it here!" said the poor girl, laying her hand on her heart; "it chokes, it suffocates me! Oh, it is terrible to die here! can you do nothing more? can nothing save me?" she added, turning her eyes inquiringly from one to the other of the group around her.

"We will do our best," said Sidney, "but that is very little," he added bitterly.

"Be brave, my poor child and never say _die_ while there is life. As yet I see nothing to fear. The Indian's remedy is doing its work; we see that by the poison it extracts," said Howe, at the same time turning aside to hide the emotion that was welling up from his heart.

"The antelope shall not die," said the chief, "there is another remedy if the plant can be found," and with these words he hastened away into the forest. Her breathing now became more labored, her eye grew glassy, and languor began to pervade her whole frame. With breathless anxiety they awaited the return of the chief; for, if even successful in finding what he was in search of, he might be too late, as already life was waning; and as they knelt around her in speechless agony, and saw the distorted features and glassy eye, they knew that unless some active and powerful stimulant could be procured immediately she would be dead.

After twenty minutes' absence, though it seemed to them to be an hour, the chief returned with his hands filled with roots freshly torn from their bed, and laying them between two flat stones crushed them. Then pressing the juice into a drinking cup they had procured at the Indian village, held it to her lips. She made a motion as if she would drink, but her limbs were powerless, her teeth set, and every muscle rigid. With a low moan she closed her glassy eye, and hope then even fled from her heart. Not so the chief; prying open her teeth with the aid of his hunting-knife, he poured the extract down her throat, and then with a solution of it mixed in water, washed the wound, binding over it the bruised roots from which he had extracted the antidote. He then procured more of the same roots,[11] extracted the juice and repeated the process, continuing his efforts for half an hour, when she slowly opened her eyes, looked around, and whispered faintly, "I shall not die now, uncle. I breathe easier," then closed her eyes again with a sweet smile playing around her lips.

[11] Rattlesnake root--Botanical, _Polygala senega_--being an
active stimulant, will counteract the bite of this most poisonous
of reptiles.

Still the chief did not for a moment relax his exertions; he knew too well the subtlety of the poison of the rattlesnake, but while the rest were active in building a soft couch of boughs and leaves on which to lay her, he continued extracting the antidote with as much energy as at the first moment.

Her skin now began to assume a more natural hue; the eye lost its glassiness, and she could articulate with ease. An hour afterwards the swelling began to subside, and the danger was past. The chief had again saved her life.

He said not a word in exultation of his success, but it gleamed from his dark eyes, flushed his swarthy cheek, and swelled his brawny chest. Never strode he with loftier step or more regal carriage--a very impersonation of barbarian royalty. His superior knowledge in many emergencies into which they were brought in their primitive mode of life, his coolness, courage and energy under the trying circumstances that often occurred, commanded their voluntary reverence for the untaught, uncivilized Indian chief. The day and night wore away, and when they had hoped to resume their journey they found that a fever had succeeded the prostration produced by the poison, and she was too ill to travel. Dismayed at this new calamity, they were at a loss for awhile how to proceed. Their guide settled the point for them by insisting that the sick girl should be conveyed on a litter back to the village, where she could have a better shelter, and where her wants could be better supplied than in that lonely spot.

This they gladly acceded to, and when the sun again set she lay tossing in feverish delirium on a couch of skins within the tent of Minawanda their benevolent guide.

Cooling drinks were given her, and her throbbing, burning temples laved with cold water, fresh from the fountain. This soothed the pain, but it did not arrest the raging fever that burned in her veins, wasting her strength, and reducing her to a state as helpless as that of infancy.

The women in the village were untiring in their exertions to alleviate her suffering, and although they rendered her condition comparatively comfortable, yet the fever grew higher and stronger each day, until she became deprived of both reason and strength. The chief stood by the door of her lodge day and night, apparently without observing anything that was passing around him, and with the one feeling filling his entire soul--that of the antelope lying at the point of death, and he could do nothing to save her. Sidney was more active, and never left her couch, save to procure something for her. He, with Edward by her side, caressed her in her wild ravings until the excitement passed, and she was again calm. Then they would renew their exertions to assuage the fever, and cool the brain by laving it with water. It was all the remedy they had, and they used this freely. The ninth day of her illness the fever suddenly died away, and closing her eyes she slept as peacefully as the sleep of infancy for half an hour, when her breathing grew shorter, her chest heaved laboriously, and she unclosed her eyes, from which the light of reason once more shone. She whispered faintly, "Edward, come nearer; where are the rest of you? I feel so strangely! is this death?"

"We are here--all here!" cried Sidney, with a broken voice; "and you know us now, do you not, sister?"

"Yes, I know you now; but I feel so weak, and so strangely! have I been sick long? I remember now," she added, "the snake bit me, and I am poisoned, and shall die!"

"No, oh! no, you will not," said Howe, in his cheering tones; "you will not do any such thing. You are a brave girl, and will live many a long year yet. Here is a good draught for you, take it and keep quiet, and you will be well in a few days," he added, as he presented her some whey he had made from goats' milk and ripe grapes. Then ordering every one from the lodge, he shut out the light, and stationing himself by her side, bade her sleep, taking the precaution to arouse her every few minutes to administer to her the whey. She slept at intervals till sunset, when she again awakened perfectly conscious, and declared she felt much better. She now improved rapidly, and in a week's time was enabled to walk with assistance in the open air. Her appetite returned which, together with the pure air, caused her rapidly to improve, and regain her strength again; but they were at a loss in what manner to prosecute their fatiguing journey with her. To set out on foot was out of the question, as she would probably give out the first day, and to be carried on a litter she would not consent to, as she rightly argued it was as much as one was able to do to get himself along, without carrying a burthen.

There was not a horse or a mule in the village, although the Indians insisted that the hunting parties that had gone out had some with them, and if they would await their return, they could obtain one for her. While hesitating what course to pursue, shouts of the returning party were heard from the summit of the hill, and were recognized as those that betokened a great victory. The answer was taken up by every inhabitant of the village, and echoed back in full chorus.

In half an hour, the Indians, in admirable confusion, came galloping into the village, decorated in all the savage panoply of war; their grotesque features made still more repulsive and hideous by the paint with which they were besmeared. This, together with the shouts of the women, and wild yells of the children, constituted a more vivid picture of pandemonium than anything earthly.

One group of the returning party seemed to concentrate the curiosity of the Indians in the village more than another, and going thither they saw with surprise two white men confined as prisoners, their hands bound behind them with leather thongs. They looked almost worn out with fatigue and anxiety. Apprehensive for their own safety, they retreated to the lodge of their guide, and there learned that these two men had been captured three hundred miles south, and that they belonged to an overland emigrant party, who, in a battle with the Indians, had all been killed, with the exception of the two, and these, with the oxen, horses, and baggage, had fallen into the hands of the savages, and were conveyed to their village.

"This does not look well for our own safety," said Sidney.

"Not an arm will be raised against the pale faces who have eaten and smoked beneath the lodge of Minawanda," said the guide, solemnly.

"Perhaps not, with your consent," retorted Sidney, "but they may not think it worth while to ask it."

"The rights of hospitality are sacred with my people; let not the young man fear; no harm will come to him," said the guide, indignantly.

"One thing is certain, a light is breaking on our path. We have found some of our own race, though under unfavorable circumstances. Yet we may learn from them how to find our homes," said the trapper, encouragingly.

"If we get a chance to speak to them," said the chief, pointing significantly towards a lodge whence rose the wail of despair for a warrior who had gone out in the pride of manhood and returned not. "They will be avenged for the warriors who fell in the fight with the whites," he added, "and though they will respect us while guests of Minawanda, they will hem us round so we cannot escape, at last falling into their hands, if the blood of the two prisoners do not satisfy the bereaved friends of their lost warriors."

"We must deceive them some way and slip away privately," said the trapper, in a subdued voice as the guide left the lodge, and wended his way over to the lodges whence proceeded the mournful sounds.

"Let us fly from here, now we are alone and free," said Jane, nervously. "The deepest recess of the forest is preferable to staying here."

"We cannot do that; we should be discovered, brought back, and strictly guarded, and thus be frustrated in all our chances of escaping. No, no; we want some of their horses to give us a start, besides several hours of the night to cover our retreat," said the chief.

"Besides this," said the trapper, "it is hardly a Christian act to leave these two men to perish by the hands of the savages. I do not think they will offer us any harm, and we may not only effect their escape peacefully, but induce the Indians to carry us to the nearest settlement with their horses. We must keep a strict and vigilant watch, and see which way things turn, and act accordingly."

The day passed and the sun had set, yet Minawanda had not returned to his lodge, from which the wanderers had not ventured for fear of further exasperating the Indians. This occurrence troubled them, and in truth looked ominous, as it had never occurred before, and with great impatience they watched for his coming. Still, hour after hour passed, and he came not, and with forebodings of evil, they proposed that one of them should reconnoitre the village under the cover of darkness to discover what was brewing among them. The chief volunteered his services, as possessing a subtlety which was unequalled, and with his noiseless tread, he went silently forth; but, before he had gone twenty yards from the door a hand was laid on his shoulder, and the voice of the guide whispered in his ear, "return to the lodge! your life depends upon it. I will be there in an hour!"

The chief stood irresolute a moment, then as silently returned to the lodge and related the circumstance, and asked the advice of the rest whether he had better wait or proceed.

"I think Minawanda is our friend, and we had better do his bidding," said the trapper.

Silently they remained a few moments, when the sound of a light step fell on their ear, and the _Fawn_, a child of twelve years, and a daughter of the guide stepped within the lodge, and with a startled look stood irresolute for a moment, then going up to Jane, nestled close to her side fixing her dark starry eyes on hers with a bewildered gaze.

"What would you with me?" inquired the young girl, as she endeavored to reassure her.

"My father can no longer protect the white strangers," she replied, "but he can save them if they will place themselves under his directions."

"What says the young squaw?" asked the chief, whose acute ear had caught the low tones of the child.

Jane repeated what the fawn had said, when the trapper placed himself by her side and demanded what they were to do.

"I do not know, except that, when the Whippoorwill is heard behind the lodge, you are all to go out silently, and as the cry is heard, you are to follow the sound until you meet others who will be in waiting for you----"

"To lead us to the stake!" said the chief. "Is my brother mad, that he listens to this chattering, and will he run into the snare laid to entrap him?"

"Really, chief, you see through the treachery of these savages better than any one else, and do credit to your education," said Sidney.

"We will not go to them to be murdered in the dark," said Edward. "If they want anything of us, here we are, and here we will be until daylight."

"It will then be too late," said the fawn, sadly. "My father bade me say the two pale faced prisoners would be there, and when day broke, and it was found they had escaped, my people could not be restrained, but would sacrifice you in their stead. He would have come himself to tell you this, but feared to be from the council that has been held, for fear of suspicion, as it is known to all the returned hunters that you are in his lodge."

"I do not believe that Minawanda meditates treachery," said Howe. "If he wanted to give us up, why take the precaution? He knows we are in his lodge, and he could lead his warriors to take us any moment, if that was his object. I think he is sincere, and, for one, am willing to place myself in his hands."

"I, too, am willing to trust him," said Jane. "We cannot make matters worse, and it may be the means of our return to our friends. The sight of others inspires hope, and if we could get away with them, they could probably lead us out of the forest."

Their conversation was here cut short by the clear shrill notes of the Whippoorwill, close behind the lodge.

"There it is," cried the fawn, bounding to her feet. "Go! go! do not hesitate, or you will be lost!"

"Come," said the trapper, taking Jane by the hand; "I feel assured there is truth in that child's face. Let us hasten on."

"If you go, I do," said Edward; "I can stand as much, and more than you can."

"And I," said Sidney.

"If the antelope goes, I will go to defend her," said the chief, following, as the trapper, with Jane, moved away in the darkness, in the direction whence the sound had come. Hurrying into the thick forest that skirted the back of the lodge, they were at a loss which direction to take, when again some distance ahead the shrill cry burst on their ears, and they noiselessly and rapidly advanced as near as they could imagine a quarter of a mile, when it was again heard ahead of them. Still following, they travelled about the same distance again, when the hand of Minawanda was laid on Howe's arm, as he said--"Stand still a moment!--I will apprise the others of your presence!" and disappearing in the darkness, they heard him talking low, but rapidly, for a few moments; then he once more stood before them, and bidding them follow, led them on a short distance where, by the faint glimmer of starlight, they saw men and a number of horses standing. "Mount!" said Minawanda; "there are horses for all. Here is the best one for the young squaw;" so saying, he lifted Jane from the ground, and seated her firmly on her horse's back--and placing the bridle in her hand, turned to assist the rest; but they had all mounted, and were waiting directions which way to proceed. Up to this moment they had not heard the voices nor seen the forms of those who were to accompany them, save by the dusky outlines which did not even reveal the number, and so quiet and rapidly had the whole transpired, that they had no time to think of anything.

"Guides! move on!" said Minawanda; "follow, brothers, they will lead you to your own people--and when there, forget not that a generous, disinterested deed may be performed by an Indian, although he risks life in so doing." So saying, he shook hands with them all in rapid succession, and darting away, they were alone with the guides, whom they saw were two in number, and mounted like themselves.

"Well, Jones," one of them said, in a very subdued tone, "if this is not one of the queerest pieces of work I ever saw, then call me an Arab."

"Never mind, Cole," the other answered, "push ahead as fast as you can, or the Indians will broil us yet. We must get a good start to cheat the rascally red-skins."

"Hush about the broiling, you make me nervous. How about our company? All there?" again sung out the one called by his companion, Jones.

"Here! all right; five of us, following we do not know who, nor where he will lead us to," said Howe, in a merry tone.

"Don't know? Well, perhaps you never heard of Jones, son of old Major Jones, away down in old Connecticut. That is me, and I guess you will not be sorry you are following me, especially as Cole says, we were all to be broiled in a heap by those red skins."

"That I shall not, and right glad I am of your services to help us out of as deep an entanglement as I think ever a set of Christians got into," said the trapper.

"Well, I do not know, but I guess we will cheat them; the moon will be up soon, and then we can ride faster," replied Jones.

"Are you sure of the way you have to go?" asked Sidney, who was still nervous about getting bewildered in the forest.

"I guess I am," replied Jones. "Did I not come over it this morning?"

"Yes, but you might miss your way," returned Sidney.

"Might miss! Why young man, where was you educated, to learn the possibility of doing such a thing? There is no such word as failing to a downeaster."

"I think you must have failed once, or you would not be here," retorted Sidney, facetiously.

"The best failure for us that was ever made," said Jane, earnestly. "We shall find our way out by that means."

"Only that object is attained, I do not care for the rest," remarked Edward. "See yonder the moon is rising, and welcome enough will be its light."

They made their way quite rapidly, and as mile after mile was placed between them and the village, their hopes of eluding their pursuers were strengthened. Jane did not feel the fatigue, so excited had she become, although, Howe had taken the precaution soon after they started, of riding close by her side, so that he could assist her at a moment's warning; for he knew she was too weak to bear such rapid travelling over fallen trees, stones, brush, and marshy ground long, and he feared that a reaction would ensue. He did not know how strongly the love and desire to reach home again burned in her heart, strengthening by its power every muscle and nerve.

Chapter Nineteenth.

They arrive at a stream of considerable magnitude over which they cross. Encampment on its bank. They ride in the water to elude their pursuers. Jones and Cole give them some information relative to their friends, having met Lewis at Fort Laramie. The joyful reception of the news. Desire to return. The lateness of the season prevents it. They continue on. Arrival at the base of the Sierra Nevada. Fear of crossing the mountains in the snow. They retreat to a place of security with intentions to encamp for the winter. They construct themselves winter quarters as well as they can.

At daylight the fugitives came to a considerable stream which they crossed and halted on the opposite bank. They turned their horses loose to feed and rest, and taking some fish from the stream by means of shooting them with their arrows,[12] they broiled them. The fish, together with some roasted _yampa_ roots, made a plentiful and nourishing repast. Letting their horses rest as long as they dared, they mounted and entering the stream, followed it down a mile, so as to deceive the Indians, should they be pursued, then again taking to the bank they rode with great speed, until their beasts began to flag, when again halting on a position that overlooked the country around, they prepared themselves a dinner, turning their horses loose to graze while they ate. After partaking of their meal, Jane fortunately fell asleep, and when they feared to remain in that position, they awoke her, and proceeded on till late in the night. Again halting, and posting a sentinel who was relieved every two hours, they lay down to sleep, for they were worn out with their rapid marches. At the first faint streak of light, they were in motion, and thus pursuing their way rapidly for three more days, they were glad to halt, as their horses were emaciated, lame, and sore, and were scarcely able to keep their feet, so galling and toilsome had been their journey.

[12] A common mode of taking fish among the Indians.

They calculated they had saved themselves from pursuit, and accordingly prepared for a few days' rest which was made doubly sweet to them by the prospect of the dear home and friends which loomed up before them. Building a temporary shelter, they spent several days in that place and became more acquainted with their two new companions. Jones was a curiosity in himself, fearing nor caring for nothing but being broiled alive, a fate for which he evinced the utmost repugnance, and declared he would be willing to adopt any emergency than encounter it, an alternative they all coincided heartily in, with the exception of Cole, who expressed a decided belief that it was preferable to many things, and delighted to hold up its advantages, but what they were he never specified to his more sensitive companion.

They were both from Connecticut and had been some years sailors, their ship having been driven and wrecked by winds on the Pacific coast they were obliged to content themselves as best they could; and as they enjoyed a large share of constitutional Yankee restlessness, sought to turn their misfortunes to some account. While waiting for relief they explored the deep unbroken wilds that surrounded them. In doing this they encountered many difficulties, and often hazarded their lives, but were rewarded by finding, as they asserted, gold mines scattered over a large district. Returning home by an overland route with specimens of the ore, they had induced others to return with them, accompanied by their families, their object being to take up the land on which the precious metal was found and settle it, guessing with characteristic shrewdness that as soon as it was known in the Eastern States that there was gold in the place, the land would be of immense value.

There were eleven of them all, two women and two children, one ten and the other twelve years old; the rest being well calculated for such a daring enterprise. It was their intention to keep the same Indian trail back they had gone over in returning home, trusting to memory to keep them from straying. When their journey was two-thirds accomplished the Indians had come unawares upon them and after fighting as long as they could hold out, all were killed but these two, who were made prisoners with all their baggage. "It was a struggle for life, and two days we kept them at bay," said Jones, "but we were one after another picked off until but five of us were left, when the savages maddened by the sight of their killed and wounded which must have been in great numbers, closed around us and we fought hand to hand for a few minutes, when Cole and myself were overpowered, disarmed and captured, the rest were killed, scalped, and their dead bodies left on the ground unburied to become a prey to beasts scarcely more savage than the Indians. Our fate was decided on in council the same evening we were taken to the village. We were sentenced to run the gauntlet.[13] If we survived we were to become part of the tribe to supply the places of the lost warriors; if we fell, the stake awaited us. We looked upon ourselves as doomed, when an old Indian came to us, and displacing the thongs with which we were bound, bade us follow him. The rest you know, and we are here together."

[13] The gauntlet consists in drawing up the members of the
village in two files facing each other four feet apart, through
which the victim has to make his way, the Indians striking at him
as he runs with clubs, knives, tomahawks or any weapon they
choose to arm themselves with. Not one out of a hundred get
through the file, and if they do they are sure to meet with
kindness; but if beaten down they are either killed on the spot
or carried wounded and bleeding to the stake where they perish
amidst horrible tortures.

"For which I am really grateful," said the trapper, who informed them of the principal events of their wandering for the last year and a-half. They listened with great interest until the recital was finished, and then Jones said, musingly, "It must be that you are the same of whom we heard so much, more than a year ago, although your friends believed you had perished by the cruel hands of the Indians."

"Then you have seen them! Are they well? Have they removed from the encampment by the brook?" and numberless other questions were showered in a breath upon them.

"One at a time," said the imperturbable Yankee; "one at a time, and I will answer them all."

"Then, are they alive and well?" asked Jane, who could not restrain her anxiety.

"They are, as far as I know," said Jones. "I saw but one they called Lewis, and he was well, and I heard him tell another man who was inquiring for the rest of the family that the rest were.

"Thank heaven for that," said Jane, fervently.

"Where are they?" asked the trapper.

"I don't know, exactly," said Jones. "The young man I saw was at Fort Laramie. He had heard there were several distant tribes of Indians encamped there to trade with the whites, and had come to see if he could learn from them the fate that had befallen you."

"Then I suspect," said the trapper, "they have remained near the spot where they were encamped when we were stolen."

"Who is the chief of the Arapahoes?" asked Whirlwind.

"I think he is called the Bald Eagle, but I don't remember distinctly. When I passed through their country last spring, I heard about a great Medicine man, who was likewise their chieftain, who had been killed or carried away at the same time part of the family of Mr. Duncan had."

"This is the chief," said the trapper, "he still lives, and I hope will for many a long year yet to come."

"That would be great news for the Arapahoes," said Cole, "and their joy could scarcely be exceeded by that of Mr. Duncan's family, could they know their lost ones were safe."

They had somewhat recovered from the fatigues of their flight, and proposed renewing their journey. The autumn, which was far advanced, warned them it was time to be on the move, if they intended to reach the haunts of civilization before the snows began to fall, and as Cole and Jones assured them they would certainly strike a trail that led to the Pacific coast in three or four days' travel, they were impatient to be on the move. They suffered much with the cold, as the nights were keen enough to create ice an inch in thickness, and the frosts destroyed a great deal of the herbage on which the horses subsisted. The third day the sky began to grow heavy in the morning, and as the air was keen they feared snow would fall, but it partially broke away before night, greatly to their satisfaction. They lay down by their camp-fire with the stars gleaming, though faintly, above them.

About midnight they were awakened by flakes of snow falling on their faces, and on awaking, they discovered the ground white around them. Before morning the white covering was three inches deep. The winter had set in uncommonly early, and they with saddened hearts rode all day through the falling snow. Night came on, and scraping the ground clear of leaves and snow, they built themselves a temporary shelter, leaving one side open, by which the camp-fire was built. They had nothing to eat, having laid by no supply of roots or meat, and the ground was covered with snow so that the roots could not be found. Leaving Sidney, Edward, and Jane in the camp, the rest went out to get some game, and in half an hour the trapper returned with a pair of wild turkeys. He was followed soon by Cole who brought some pheasants and a grey squirrel. As the shades of night began to gather around them, the others came in with a fawn and a mountain sheep. There was no fear then of their being supperless; and, after eating a hearty meal, they laid down to sleep with the snow still falling around them. When they awoke in the morning the sky was clear and the sun arose warm, and by noon had softened the snow so much as to make it wet their clothing, as they brushed it from the pendant branches in riding along. When they encamped that night, Jane was shivering with cold, and too ill to eat; but the rest lay by the fire, and slept as well as the disagreeable situation in which they were placed would allow. Jane was quite ill the next day, and they did not think it prudent to travel; but by night she felt much better, and as they calculated they could strike the trail in another day's journey, they determined to be in the saddle by daylight.

Riding, as fast as the rugged uneven country through which they were travelling would permit, for three hours, they came to the trail earlier in the day than they had anticipated, greatly to their relief. Here now they were on a road that would lead them to their friends from which they had so long been separated, during which time they had encountered so many trials and so much suffering. The sight of it dispelled all fatigue from them, and they were ready, nay, eager, to turn their horses homeward. They were restrained from such mad proceedings by the cool, undisturbed equanimity of Jones, who said: "The journey home requires three months' hard travelling, and if we undertake it in our present unprepared condition, we shall certainly perish by cold and hunger. On the other hand the trail in the opposite direction, will lead us to a safe harbor, in a third of the distance which, when accomplished, we shall be willing to stay in till spring comes again. It is always dangerous travelling through these wilds when prepared, but in our destitute condition it is most hazardous."

"Lead us on; we can endure it," cried the children, enthusiastically.

"No, no; children," said the trapper, "Jones tells the truth, we can never cross the country that lies between us and our friends, in the dead of winter. We must content ourselves in a place of security, if we can find one, until spring again comes."

"Yonder," said the chief, pointing towards the west, where the Great Sierra arose with its snowy peaks towering among the clouds, "are the Snow mountain. To reach the white settlement beyond we must cross it. We are too weak and destitute to do it. Let us build a lodge here and gather what provisions we can before the snow is deeper, and the deer all leave us."

"I believe it is the best thing we can do, for our safety," said the cautious trapper.

"Oh! no; do not think of such a thing!" said Sidney. "I am sure we can cross the mountain, and when over them, it cannot be far to civilized habitations."

"You are young and sanguine," said the trapper, "and do not know the dangers before you."

"We might as well pursue the trail a day or two," said Jones, "and then, if we think we cannot cross the mountain, we can build winter quarters. For my part, I do not relish a winter here, any more than Sidney."

"Well," said Cole, casting an admiring glance towards Jane, "I think quarters might become tolerable, if well supplied with venison--and I think they might, between us all."

The chief saw the look, and a close observer might have for an instant observed a peculiar glitter in his eye, but no word or movement of his indicated that he had witnessed it, or if he did, cared for it. Resuming their journey, they were soon made aware that the ground before them was rising, and covered with a greater depth of snow. By noon they had come to the base of high ranges of hills that rose one above another, and above all towered the Sierra Nevada. Over these the trail extended, and they were compelled either to encamp on the spot, go back, or cross over the mountains. To pass over them seemed impossible--to encamp on the exposed slope on which they were would subject them unnecessarily to severe suffering from cold; and their only safe alternative was to fall back to some secure unexposed position, and raise a winter camp.

A few miles back, a sheltered position was discovered; the snow was cleared away, and all working with an earnest will, a commodious hut was soon erected consisting of strong poles for the frame work, which were covered with bark, and this again thickly studded with boughs to keep out the cold. The ground was also strewn with them, for they had no skins to spread over it, nor even to make themselves a covering through the night with--a want from which they suffered much. Taking advantage of their experience the last winter, they collected stone from beneath the snow, and built themselves a rough but efficient fire-place, which occupied nearly one side of the hut, and in which they could build large fires that diffused their genial warmth over the room without endangering the frail fabric.

Chapter Twentieth.

The cold increases. The men take large quantities of fur. Abundant supplies of game. Conversation on various matters. Jones and Cole tell some of their adventures in the gold regions. A boulder of gold. Shooting it from a precipice. Jones loaded down with riches. Comfortable condition of the children. Howe describes an adventure he experienced near Lake Superior by falling into an Indian's deer-pit. Whirlwind relates a circumstance that occurred to himself and Shognaw in reference to their escape from the Crows. The party's resignation to their lot.