CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
CURIOUS TREES, AND STILL MORE CURIOUS PLAINS--AN INTERESTING DISCOVERY,FOLLOWED BY A SAD ONE--FATE OF TRAVELLERS IN THE MOUNTAINS--A SUDDENILLNESS--NED PROVES HIMSELF TO BE A FRIEND IN NEED AND IN DEED, AS WELLAS AN EXCELLENT DOCTOR, HUNTER, COOK, AND NURSE--DEER-SHOOTING BYFIRELIGHT.
During the course of their wanderings among the mountains our hero andhis companion met with many strange adventures and saw many strangesights, which, however, we cannot afford space to dwell upon here.Their knowledge in natural history, too, was wonderfully increased, forthey were both observant men, and the school of nature is the best inwhich any one can study. Audubon, the hunter-naturalist of America,knew this well! and few men have added so much as he to the sum of humanknowledge in his peculiar department, while fewer still have sowonderfully enriched the pages of romantic adventure in wild, unknownregions.
In these wanderings, too, Ned and Tom learned to know experimentallythat truth is indeed stranger than fiction, and that if the writers offairy-tales had travelled more they would have saved their imaginationsa deal of trouble, and produced more extraordinary works.
The size of the trees they encountered was almost beyond belief, thoughnone of them surpassed the giant of which an account has been alreadygiven. Among other curious trees they found _sugar-pines_ growing inabundance in one part of the country. This is, perhaps, the mostgraceful of all the pines. With a perfectly straight and cylindricalstem and smooth bark, it rears its proud crest high above other trees,and flings its giant limbs abroad, like a sentinel guarding the forest.The stem rises to about four-fifths of its height perfectly free ofbranches; above this point the branches spread out almost horizontally,drooping a little at the ends from the weight of the huge cones whichthey bear. These cones are about a foot-and-a-half long, and under eachleaf lies a seed the size of a pea, which has an agreeably sweet taste,and is much esteemed by the Indians, who use it as an article of food.
Another remarkable sight they saw was a plain, of some miles in extent,completely covered with shattered pieces of quartz, which shone withspecks and veins of pure gold. Of course they had neither time norinclination to attempt the laborious task of pulverising this quartz inorder to obtain the precious metal; but Ned moralised a little as theygalloped over the plain, spurning the gold beneath their horses' hoofs,as if it had been of no value whatever! They both puzzled themselvesalso to account for so strange an appearance; but the only solution thatseemed to them at all admissible was, that a quartz vein had, at someearly period of the world's history, been shattered by a volcaniceruption, and the plain thus strewn with gold.
But from the contemplation of these and many other interesting sightsand phenomena we must pass to an event which seriously affected thefuture plans of the travellers.
One beautiful evening--such an evening as, from its deep quiet andunusual softness, leaves a lasting impression on the memory--the twohorsemen found themselves slowly toiling up the steep acclivity of amountain-ridge. Their advance was toilsome, for the way was rugged, andno track of any kind assisted them in their ascent.
"I fear the poor horses will give in," said Ned, dismounting and lookingback at his companion, who slowly followed him.
"We are near the summit," answered Tom, "and they shall have a long restthere."
As he spoke, they both dismounted and advanced on foot, leading theirfatigued horses by the bridles.
"Do you know," said Tom, with a sigh, "I feel more used up to-day than Ihave been since we started on this journey. I think we had betterencamp and have a cup of tea; there is a little left yet, if I mistakenot."
"With all my heart, Tom; I, too, feel inclined to rest, and--"
Ned paused, for at that moment they overtopped the highest edge of theridge, and the view that burst upon them was well fitted to put toflight every previous train of thought.
The ridge on which they stood rose several hundred feet above the levelof the plain beyond, and commanded a view of unknown extent towards thefar west.
The richest possible sweep of country was spread out at their feet likea huge map, bathed in a glow of yellow sunshine. Lakes and streams,crags and rocks, sward, and swamp, and plain--undulating and abrupt,barren and verdant--all were there, and could be embraced in a singlewide-sweeping glance. It seemed, to the entranced travellers, like thevery garden of Eden. Water-fowl flew about in all directions, thewhistling of their wings and their wild cries being mellowed by distanceinto pleasant music; and, far away on the right, where a clear lakemirrored each tree on its banks, as if the image were reality, a herd ofdeer were seen cooling their sides and limbs in the water, while, on theextreme horizon, a line of light indicated the shores of the vastPacific Ocean.
Ere the travellers could find words to express their feelings, a rock,with a piece of stick and a small rag attached to it, attracted theirattention.
"We are not the first who have set their feet here, it seems," said Ned,pointing to the signal.
"Strange!" muttered Tom Collins, as they turned towards the rock; "thatdoes not look like an Indian mark; yet I would have thought that whitemen had never stood here before, for the spot is far removed from anyknown diggings, and, as we know fail well, is not easily reached."
On gaining the rock, they found that the rag was a shred of linen,without mark of any kind to tell who had placed it there.
"It must have been the freak of some Indian hunter," said Ned, examiningthe rock on which the little flag-staff was raised. "Stay--no--here aresome marks cut in the stone! Look here, Tom, can you decipher this? Itlooks like the letter D--DB."
"DB?" cried Tom Collins, with a degree of energy that surprised hisfriend. "Let me see!"
Tom carefully removed the moss, and cleared out the letters, which wereunmistakeable.
"Who can DB have been?" said Ned.
Tom looked up with a flushed countenance and a glittering eye, as heexclaimed--
"Who? Who but Daniel Boone, Cooper's great hero--Hawk-eye, of the `Lastof the Mohicans'--Deer-slayer--Leather-stocking! _He_ has been herebefore us--ay, brave spirit! Long before other hunters had dared toventure far into the territory of the scalping, torturing, yellingred-skin, this bold heart had pushed westward, fearless and alone, untilhis eagle eye rested on the great Pacific. It _must_ have been he. Ihave followed him, Ned, in spirit, throughout all his wild career, for Iknew him to be a _real_ man, and no fiction; but little did I think thatI should see a spot where his manly foot had rested, or live to discoverhis _farthest step_ in the `far west!'"
Ned Sinton listened with interest to the words of his friend, but he didnot interrupt him, for he respected the deep emotions that swelled hisheart and beamed from his flashing eye.
"We spoke, Ned, sometime ago, of historical associations," continuedTom,--"here are historical associations worth coming all this way tocall up. Here are associations that touch _my_ heart more than all thedeeds of ancient chivalry. Ah! Daniel Boone, little didst thou thinkwhen thy hawk's eye rested here, that in a few short years the landwould be overrun by gold-diggers from all ends of the earth!"
"But this flag," said Ned; "_he_ could never have placed that here. Itwould have been swept away by storms years ago."
"You are right," said Tom, turning over the stones that supported thestaff--"halloo! what have we here?"
He pulled out a roll of oiled cloth as he spoke, and, on opening it,discovered a scrap of paper, on which were written, in pencil, thewords, "_Help us!--for God's sake help us! We are perishing at the footof the hill to the southward of this_."
No name or date was attached to this strange paper, but the purport ofit was sufficiently clear so, without wasting time in fruitlessconjecture, the young men immediately sprang on their horses, and rodedown the hill in the direction indicated.
The route proved more rugged and steep than that by which they hadascended, and, for a considerable distance, they wound their way betweenthe trunks of a closely-planted cypress grove; after pass
ing which theyemerged upon a rocky plain of small extent, at the further extremity ofwhich a green oasis indicated the presence of a spring.
Towards this they rode in silence.
"Ah!" exclaimed Ned, in a tone of deep pity, as he reined up at the footof an oak-tree, "too late!"
They were indeed too late to succour the poor creatures who had placedthe scrap of paper on the summit of that mountain-ridge, in the fainthope that friendly hands might discover it in time.
Six dead forms lay at the foot of the oak, side by side, with their palefaces turned upwards, and the expression of extreme suffering stilllingering on their shrunken features. It needed no living witness totell their sad history. The skeletons of oxen, the broken cart, thescattered mining tools, and the empty provision casks, shewed clearlyenough that they were emigrants who had left their homesteads in theStates, and tried to reach the gold-regions of California by theterrible overland journey. They had lost their way among the drearyfastnesses of the mountains, travelled far from the right road to themines, and perished at last of exhaustion and hunger on the very bordersof the golden land. The grey-haired father of the family lay beside ayoung girl, with his arm clasped round her neck. Two younger men alsolay near them, one lying as if, in dying, he had sought to affordsupport to the other. The bodies were still fresh, and a glance shewedthat nearly all of them were of one family.
"Alas! Ned, had we arrived a few days sooner we might have saved them,"said Tom.
"I think they must have been freed from their pains and sorrows heremore than a week since," replied the other, fastening his horse to atree, and proceeding to search the clothes of the unfortunates forletters or anything that might afford a clue to their identity. "Wemust stay here an hour or two, Tom, and bury them."
No scrap of writing, however, was found--not even a book with a name onit--to tell who the strangers were. With hundreds of others, no doubt,they had left their homes, full of life and hope, to seek their fortunesin the land of gold; but the Director of man's steps had ordered itotherwise, and their golden dreams had ended with their lives in theunknown wilderness.
The two friends covered the bodies with sand and stones, and, leavingthem in their shallow grave, pursued their way; but they had not gonefar when a few large drops of rain fell, and the sky became overcastwith dark leaden clouds.
"Ned," said Tom, anxiously, "I fear we shall be caught by the rainyseason. It's awkward being so far from the settlements at such a time."
"Oh, nonsense! surely you don't mind a wetting?" cried Ned; "we can pushon in spite of rain."
"Can we?" retorted Tom, with unwonted gravity. "It's clear that you'venever seen the rainy season, else you would not speak of it so lightly."
"Why, man, you seem to have lost pluck all of a sudden; come, cheer up;rain or no rain, I mean to have a good supper, and a good night's rest;and here is just the spot that will suit us."
Ned Sinton leaped off his horse as he spoke, and, fastening him to atree, loosened the saddle-girths, and set about preparing theencampment. Tom Collins assisted him; but neither the rallying of hiscomrade, nor his own efforts could enable the latter to shake off thedepression of spirits, with which he was overpowered. That night therain came down in torrents, and drenched the travellers to the skin,despite their most ingenious contrivances to keep it out. They spentthe night in misery, and when morning broke Ned found that his companionwas smitten down with ague.
Even Ned's buoyant spirits were swamped for a time at this unlooked-forcatastrophe; for the dangers of their position were not slight. It wasclear that Tom would not be able to travel for many days, for his wholeframe trembled, when the fits came on, with a violence that seemed tothreaten dislocation to all his joints. Ned felt that both their lives,under God, depended on his keeping well, and being able to procure foodfor, and nurse, his friend. At the same time, he knew that the rainyseason, if indeed it had not already begun, would soon set in, andperhaps render the country impassable. There was no use, however, ingiving way to morbid fears, so Ned faced his difficulties manfully, and,remembering the promise which he had given his old uncle at parting fromhim in England, he began by offering up a short but earnest prayer atthe side of his friend's couch.
"Ned," said Tom, sadly, as his companion ceased, "I fear that you'llhave to return alone."
"Come, come, don't speak that way, Tom; it isn't right. God is able tohelp us here as well as in cities. I don't think you are so ill as youfancy--the sight of these poor emigrants has depressed you. Cheer up,my boy, and I'll let you see that you were right when you said I couldturn my hand to anything. I'll be hunter, woodcutter, cook, and nurseall at once, and see if I don't make you all right in a day or two. Youmerely want rest, so keep quiet for a little till I make a sort ofsheltered place to put you in."
The sun broke through the clouds as he spoke and shed a warm beam downon poor Tom, who was more revived by the sight of the cheering orb ofday than by the words of his companion.
In half-an-hour Tom was wrapped in the driest portion of the driestblanket; his wet habiliments were hung up before a roaring fire to dry,and a rude bower of willows, covered with turf, was erected over hishead to guard him from another attack of rain, should it come; but itdidn't come. The sun shone cheerily all day, and Ned's preparationswere completed before the next deluge came, so that when it descended onthe following morning, comparatively little found its way to Tom'sresting-place.
It was scarcely a _resting-place_, however. Tom turned and groaned onhis uneasy couch, and proved to be an uncommonly restive patient. Hecomplained particularly when Ned left him for a few hours each day toprocure fresh provisions; but he smiled and confessed himselfunreasonable when Ned returned, as he always did, with a dozen wildducks, or several geese or hares attached to his belt, or a fat deer onhis shoulders. Game of all kinds was plentiful, the weather improved,the young hunter's rifle was good, and his aim was true, so that, butfor the sickness of his friend, he would have considered the life he leda remarkably pleasant one.
As day after day passed by, however, and Tom Collins grew no better, butrather worse, he began to be seriously alarmed about him. Tom himselftook the gloomiest view of his case, and at last said plainly hebelieved he was dying. At first Ned sought to effect a cure by thesimple force of kind treatment and care; but finding that this would notdo, he bethought him of trying some experiments in the medicinal way.He chanced to have a box of pills with him, and tried one, although withmuch hesitation and fear, for he had got them from a miner who could nottell what they were composed of, but who assured him they were asovereign remedy for the blues! Ned, it must be confessed, was rather areckless doctor. He was anxious, at the time he procured the pills, torelieve a poor miner who seemed to be knocked up with hard work, but whoinsisted that he had a complication of ailments; so Ned bought the pillsfor twenty times their value, and gave a few to the man, advising him,at the same time, to rest and feed well, which he did, and the resultwas a complete cure.
Our hero did not feel so certain, however, that they would succeed aswell in the present case; but he resolved to try their virtues, for Tomwas so prostrate that he could scarcely be induced to whisper a word.When the cold fit seized him he trembled so violently that his teethrattled in his head; and when that passed off it was followed by aburning fever, which was even worse to bear.
At first he was restive, and inclined to be peevish under his illness,the result, no doubt, of a naturally-robust constitution strugglingunsuccessfully against the attacks of disease, but when he wascompletely overcome, his irascibility passed away, and he becamepatient, sweet-tempered, and gentle as a child.
"Come, Tom, my boy," said Ned, one evening, advancing to the side of hiscompanion's couch and sitting down beside him, while he held up thepill--"Open your mouth, and shut your eyes, as we used to say atschool."
"What is it?" asked the sick man, faintly.
"Never you mind; patients have no business to know what their doctorsprescribe
. It's intended to cure ague, and that's enough for you toknow. If it doesn't cure you it's not my fault, anyhow--open yourmouth, sir!"
Tom smiled sadly and obeyed; the pill was dropt in, a spoonful of wateradded to float it down, and it disappeared.
But the pill had no effect whatever. Another was tried with likeresult--or rather with like absence of all result, and at last the boxwas finished without the sick man being a whit the better or the worsefor them. This was disheartening; but Ned, having begun to dabble inmedicines, felt an irresistible tendency to go on. Like the tiger whohas once tasted blood, he could not now restrain himself.
"I think you're a little better to-night, Tom," he said on the thirdevening after the administration of the first pill; "I'm making you adecoction of bark here that will certainly do you good."
Tom shook his head, but said nothing. He evidently felt that a negativesign was an appropriate reply to the notion of his being better, or ofany decoction whatever doing him good. However, Ned stirred the panfulof bark and water vigorously, chatting all the while in a cheering tone,in order to keep up his friend's spirits, while the blaze of thecamp-fire lit up his handsome face and bathed his broad chest andshoulders with a ruddy glow that rendered still more pallid the lustreof the pale stars overhead.
"It's lucky the rain has kept off so long," he said, without looking upfrom the mysterious decoction over which he bent with the earnest gazeof an alchymist. "I do believe that has something to do with your beingbetter, my boy--either that or the pills, or both."
Ned totally ignored the fact that his friend did not admit that he wasbetter.
"And this stuff," he continued, "will set you up in a day or two. It'sas good as quinine, any day; and you've no notion what wonderful curesthat medicine effects. It took me a long time, too, to find the righttree. I wandered over two or three leagues of country before I cameupon one. Luckily it was a fine sunny day, and I enjoyed it much. Iwish you had been with me, Tom; but you'll be all right soon. I laydown, too, once or twice in the sunshine, and put my head in the longgrass, and tried to fancy myself in a miniature forest. Did you evertry that, Tom!"
Ned looked round as he spoke, but the sick man gave a languid smile, andshut his eyes, so he resumed his stirring of the pot and his ramblingtalk.
"You've no idea, if you never tried it, how one can deceive one's-selfin that way. I often did it at home, when I was a little boy. I usedto go away with a companion into a grass-field, and, selecting a spotwhere the grass was long and tangled, and mixed with various kinds ofweeds, we used to lie flat down with our faces as near to the ground aspossible, and gaze through the grass-stems until we fancied the bladeswere trees, and the pebbles were large rocks, and the clods weremountains. Sometimes a huge beetle would crawl past, and we instantlythought of Saint George and the dragon, and, as the unwieldy monstercame stumbling on through the forest, we actually became quite excited,and could scarcely believe that what we tried to imagine was not real.
"We seldom spoke on these occasions, my companion and I," continued Ned,suspending the stirring of the decoction and filling his pipe, as he satdown close to the blazing logs; "speaking, we found, always broke thespell, so we agreed to keep perfect silence for as long a time aspossible. You must try it, Tom, some day, for although it may seem toyou a childish thing to do, there are many childish things which, whendone in a philosophical spirit, are deeply interesting and profitable tomen."
Ned ceased talking for a few minutes while he ignited his pipe; when hespoke again his thoughts had wandered into a new channel.
"I'm sorry we have no fresh meat to-day," he said, looking earnestly athis friend. "The remainder of that hare is not very savoury, but wemust be content; I walked all the country round to-day, without gettingwithin range of any living thing. There were plenty both of deer andbirds, but they were so wild I could not get near them. It would matterlittle if you were well, Tom, but you require good food just now, mypoor fellow. Do you feel better to-night?"
Tom groaned, and said that he "felt easier," in a very uneasy voice,after which they both relapsed into silence, and no sound was heard savethe crackling of the logs and the bubbling of the mysterious decoctionin the pot. Suddenly Tom uttered a slight hiss,--that peculiar sound sofamiliar to backwoods ears, by which hunters indicate to each other thatsomething unusual has been observed, and that they had better be on thealert.
Ned Sinton's nerves were of that firm kind which can never be startledor taken by surprise. He did not spring to his feet, but, quick asthought, he stretched forth his long arm, and, seizing his rifle, cockedit, while he glanced at his friend's eye to see in what direction he waslooking. Tom pointed eagerly with his thin hand straight across thefire. Ned turned in that direction, and at once saw the objects whichhad attracted his attention. Two bright gleaming balls shone in thedark background of the forest, like two lustrous Irish diamonds in ablack field of bog-oak. He knew at once that they were the eyes of adeer, which, with a curiosity well-known as peculiar to many wildanimals, had approached the fire to stare at it.
Ned instantly threw forward his rifle; the light of the fire enabled himeasily to align the sights on the glittering eyes; the deadly contentsbelched forth, and a heavy crash told that his aim had been true.
"Bravo!" shouted Tom Collins, forgetting his ailments in the excitementof the moment, while Ned threw down his rifle, drew his hunting-knife,sprang over the fire, and disappeared in the surrounding gloom. In afew minutes he returned with a fine deer on his shoulders.
"So ho! my boy," he cried, flinging the carcase down; "that was a luckyshot. We shall sup well to-night, thanks to curiosity, which is a mostuseful quality in beast as well as man. But what's wrong; you lookpale, and, eh? you don't mean to say you're--laughing?"
Tom was indeed pale, for the sudden excitement, in his exhaustedcondition had been too much for him; yet there did seem a peculiarexpression about the corners of his mouth that might have been theremains of a laugh.
"Ned," he said, faintly, "the--the decoction's all gone." Ned sprang upand ran to the fire, where, sure enough, he found the pan, over which hehad bent so long with necromantic gaze, upset, and most of the preciousliquid gone.
"Ha!" he cried, catching up the pot, "not _all_ gone, lad, so yourrejoicing was premature. There's quite enough left yet to physic youwell; and it's in fit state to be taken, so open your mouth at once, andbe a good boy."
A little of the medicine, mixed in water, was administered, and Tom,making a wry face, fell back on his couch with a sigh. Immediatelyafter he was seized with, perhaps, the severest shaking fit he had yetexperienced, so that Ned could not help recalling the well-knowncaution, so frequently met with on medicine vials, "When taken, to bewell shaken," despite the anxiety he felt for his friend. But soonafter, the trembling fit passed away, and Tom sank into a quietslumber,--the first real rest he had enjoyed for several days.
Ned felt his pulse and his brow, looked long and earnestly into hisface, nodded approvingly once or twice, and, having tucked the blanketsgently in round the sick man, he proceeded to prepare supper. Heremoved just enough of the deer's skin to permit of a choice morselbeing cut out; this he put into the pot, and made thereof a rich andsavoury soup, which he tasted; and, if smacking one's lips and tastingit again twice, indicated anything, the soup was good. But Ned Sintondid not eat it. That was Tom's supper, and was put just near enough thefire to keep it warm.
This being done, Ned cut out another choice morsel of deer's-meat, whichhe roasted and ate, as only those can eat who are well, and young, androbust, and in the heart of the wilderness. Then he filled his pipe,sat down close to Tom's couch, placed his back against a tree, crossedhis arms on his breast, and smoked and watched the whole night long.
He rose gently several times during the night, however, partly for thepurpose of battling off his tendency to sleep, and partly for thepurpose of replenishing the fire and keeping the soup warm.
But Tom Collins took no su
pper that night. Ned longed very much to seehim awake, but he didn't. Towards morning, Ned managed for some time tofight against sleep, by entering into a close and philosophicalspeculation, as to what was the precise hour at which that pot of soupcould not properly be called supper, but would merge into breakfast.This question still remained unsettled in his mind when grey dawn lit upthe peaks of the eastern hills, and he was still debating it, andnodding like a Chinese mandarin, and staring at intervals like aconfused owl, when the sun shot over the tree-tops, and, alightingsoftly on the sleeper's face, aroused him.
Tom awoke refreshed, ate his breakfast with relish, took his medicinewithout grumbling, smiled on his comrade, and squeezed his hand as hewent to sleep again with a heavy sigh of comfort. From that hour hemended rapidly, and in a week after he was well enough to resume hisjourney.