CHAPTER IX.
NIGHT IN THE MOUNTAINS.
One of the singular facts connected with the _crotalus_ species is theease with which it is killed. The writer once ended the career of a hugespecimen with a single blow of a whip-lash. The first impact of FredGreenwood's rifle-barrel upon the hideous reptile coiled in the scrubbushes inflicted a fatal wound, though the serpent continued blindlystriking for a minute or two longer, and responded viciously to theattack of the scared and angry Jack Dudley, who struck it several timesafter it had ceased to struggle and all danger was past. A person'sfirst impulse, after being bitten by a snake, is to kill it, after whichhe looks after the wound he may have received.
But Fred had heard the dreadful exclamation of his comrade and caughthim by his arm as he was about to bring down his last blow upon thereptile.
"O Jack, are you sure he bit you?" he asked in a tremulous voice.
"Yes; I felt the sting in my left ankle, like the prick of a needle."
Dropping upon the ground, he hastily unfastened and turned down hislegging. There, sure enough, was a tiny red spot, with a single drop ofblood oozing from it.
"The rattlesnake has two fangs," said Fred; "but there is only one woundhere."
"It wasn't a direct blow, I suppose," said the white-faced Jack, who hadgood reason to be terrified over the occurrence, for the rattlesnake,although ranking below the cobra in the virulence of its venom, is themost deadly serpent in America, and the veteran hunter fears it morethan the most savage of wild animals.
Fred stooped down and examined the wound closely. A thrilling suspicionwas becoming certainty in his mind.
"When did you feel that bite?" he asked.
"At the moment I landed on my feet. What a dreadful poison it is! I canfeel it all through my body; and don't you see that my ankle has begunto swell?"
Fred continued to study the wound, pressing his finger around it andbending close to the limb. Had the hurt been caused by the fang of aserpent he would have tried to suck out the venom. Suddenly he looked upwith glowing face.
"Now, Jack, my dear fellow, don't be frightened; you haven't been bittenat all."
"What do you mean?"
"At the moment you landed on your feet I was beating the life out of thesnake, and he was giving his whole attention to me. He did not try tobite you till you turned about and began striking at him."
"But what made that wound?" asked Jack.
"I suspect the cause."
He drew up the legging and examined the part that covered the spot inthe ankle which had received the blow.
"There! I knew it! That's what did it!"
He had plucked out a small, needle-pointed thorn. The bushes aboundedwith similar prongs, one of which had been torn off and pierced thelegging of Jack when he was crashing through the tops of the bushes.
"Sure there isn't any mistake about that?" asked the youth, feeling asif a mountain were lifted from his shoulders.
"There can't be."
"Wait a minute!"
With one bound the happy fellow came to his feet, and throwing his armsabout his comrade, hugged him into temporary breathlessness.
"Thank the Lord! Richard's himself again! The V. W. W. are born to goodfortune."
And joining hands, the two danced with delight. Many in the situation ofFred Greenwood would have laughed at Jack and "guyed" him over hisblunder, but the incident was too dreadful and the terror of his friendtoo intense for Fred to wish to amuse himself at his expense. However,he could not help indulging just a trifle. Suddenly pausing in hisantics he looked down at the feet of Jack.
"I suppose in a few minutes your ankle will be so swelled that thebuckles will fly off the legging. By this time, too, you must feel thepoison in your head."
By way of answer, Jack, who, like Fred, had laid aside his Winchesterand venison, seized his friend and tried to lay him on his back. Theyhad had many a wrestling bout at home and there was little difference intheir skill. Fred was always ready for a test, and he responded withsuch vigor that before Jack suspected he received an unquestioned fall,since both shoulders and hips were on the ground at the same time, withhis conqueror holding him motionless.
"It was hardly fair," remarked Fred, allowing him to rise to his feet.
"Why not?" asked Jack, also coming up.
"The venom of the rattlesnake so weakened you that you are notyourself."
"I'll show you whether I am or not!"
At it they went again, and this time Jack was the victor, after whichthey brushed off their clothing and agreed to leave the deciding boutfor a more convenient season. Night was rapidly closing in.
"That exercise has added to my appetite," remarked Jack, as theygathered up their belongings and moved off.
"It would have done the same for me, if the thing were possible."
Mindful of the danger of going astray, they carefully studied thelandmarks, so far as they could see them. Their main reliance was thelofty peak that was visible for so great a distance, but with that helpthey saw it growing dark, while they were in a region totally strange tothem.
"My gracious!" said Fred, as they came to a halt; "in the face of allthat Hank told us, we have lost our way!"
"It has that look," replied Jack, removing his hat and drawing hishandkerchief across his moist forehead; "but I don't see that it is sucha serious thing, after all. We can spend the night here as well asanywhere."
"What will Hank think, when he goes to camp to meet us?"
"I reckon he'll not be disappointed; besides, we can't be far from theplace, and can look it up to-morrow."
"I don't suppose it will hurt us to build a fire among these rocks andspend the night; but the air is pretty cool and we shall miss ourblankets."
"Old hunters like ourselves must become used to such things,"complacently observed Jack, who began preparations at the same momentfor carrying out his own proposal. It was no trouble to find enoughbrush and wood to serve them, and they had brought such a goodly supplyof matches from the ranch in their rubber safes that they soon had avigorous fire going, over which they broiled their venison.
The meal of itself would not have been enjoyable at their home, for itwas too "new," lacking a certain tenderness that forms one of its chiefattractions. Besides, it was unavoidably scorched in the preparation;but the mixed pepper and salt sprinkled over it improved the flavor. Butthe great thing was their insatiate appetites, for it is a homely truththat there is no sauce like hunger. So it came about that they not onlymade a nourishing meal, but had enough left to serve them in themorning.
It was fully dark when the repast was finished. The fire had beenstarted against the face of a boulder, and only a small quantity of woodremained--not sufficient to last half through the night. With the goingdown of the sun the air became colder. It seemed at times as if a breathof wind from the snowy peaks reached them, and it caused an involuntaryshiver. The prospect of remaining where they were through the dismalhours of darkness was anything but cheering.
"Jack," suddenly said Fred in a guarded undertone, "there's some wildanimal near us."
"How can you know that?"
"I heard him moving about."
"In what direction?"
"Just beyond the ridge there. Hark! Didn't you hear it?"
"You are right," whispered Jack; "let's find out what it is."
Gun in hand, they moved stealthily up the slight ridge near by. It wasonly a few feet in height. Their experience had taught them that dangerwas likely to break upon them at any time, and they did not mean to becaught unprepared. Neither spoke as they cautiously climbed the ridge,like a couple of Indian scouts on the alert for the first appearance ofperil.
But they reached the crest of the slight elevation without having heardanything more of that which had alarmed them. The next moment, however,both caught the dim outlines of a large animal moving slowly from them.Before they were certain of its identity the creature neighed, as iffrightened by the stealthy approach of the youth
s.
"It's a horse!" exclaimed Fred, who, suspecting the whole truth, movedover the ridge and called, in a coaxing voice:
"Dick! Come here, Dick!"
The animal stopped, looked inquiringly around, and then came forwardwith a pleased whinny. He was Fred's pony, and, brief as theiracquaintance had been, recognized his voice. Fred stroked his nose andpatted his neck, and the horse showed his pleasure at receiving theendearments.
When the youths made their halt and cooked their supper they were on theedge of the grassy plateau for which they were hunting, and whosefeatures they would have been quick to recognize were the sun shining.Soon after, Jack's pony came out of the gloom as if to claim attention,and he received it.
"We are more fortunate than I dared hope," said Jack; "here we are athome, after all. I wonder whether Hank is ahead of us?"
This was unlikely, since, if he had reached the spot fixed upon as theirheadquarters, he would have kindled a fire, whereas it was dark in everydirection. The partial cavern was on the other side of the plateau, andthe boys walked rapidly to it, the route being clear, now that they hadlocated themselves.
They appreciated the wisdom of Hank, who had made them help gatherenough firewood to last through the night. He said (what proved to bethe fact) that they were not likely to return till late, when it wouldbe hard to collect the right kind of fuel.
In a brief while a second fire was under way. It was started in front ofthe cavern, which was of so slight extent that it received and held muchof the warmth. Seated within the opening, with their heavy blanketswrapped about them, the boys were thoroughly comfortable. They had metwith enough stirring adventure and had had sufficient rough experienceto make the rest highly acceptable. They naturally wondered when nineo'clock passed without bringing Hank Hazletine.
"Maybe he has lost his way in the canyon," suggested Fred, givingexpression to a fancy which was not serious.
"You mean that he has forgotten where the stairs lead up to the top?"
"I guess that's what I mean, though I never thought of it before. Ifthat is the fact, he may have to pick his way for two or three hundredmiles to the mouth of the canyon and then walk back to us."
"That will delay his arrival."
"Yes. He can hardly be expected before morning."
"Let me see," said Jack, becoming more serious; "Hank warned us that nomatter where we went into camp, we must keep one person on duty assentinel."
"Suppose we are separated, and there is only one of us in camp?"
"Then, I presume, he must sit up and watch over himself. But what's theuse of one of us keeping guard here?"
"Why not?"
"We are in this cavern-like arrangement, where no one can come upon usfrom the rear, while the fire will ward off danger from the front."
"Suppose that danger comes in the form of an Indian; what would he carefor half a dozen fires?"
"But there are no unfriendly Indians in these parts."
"You are thinking of Motoza. We have agreed that he is friendly, butsometimes I suspect we are making a mistake about him."
The boys would have been glad to convince themselves that it was safe todispense with guard duty, for a night of undisturbed rest wasexceedingly tempting, but no one who starts out with the set purpose ofdeceiving himself can do so. The result of it all was that the twodecided that they must stand guard between them until the sun rose.
On such occasions the sentinel whose turn comes first has the preferabletask, since every one will admit that it is easier to keep awake beforemidnight than afterward. The division was made more equitable byarranging that Jack Dudley should serve until two o'clock, and FredGreenwood for the remainder of the morning. Before the hour of ten theyounger lay down on the flinty floor, with his heavy blanket gatheredaround him, and sank into slumber. They had matched pennies for thefirst turn, else the elder would not have claimed it.
Jack found his duty similar in many respects to that of his first nighton the prairie, but the surroundings and circumstances were in widecontrast. In the former instance they had the companionship of thecowman and veteran hunter, while now they could not know whether he waswithin a half-dozen miles of them. Jack, however, did not believe thatanything in the nature of danger impended, and that to a great extent hewas taking upon himself an unnecessary hardship.
So far as he could judge, the only possible thing to fear was wildanimals. There were always some of them prowling through this region,but at that season of the year the wolves and other brutes were notpressed by hunger, and no matter how fierce the creature, he would notattempt to pass the mouth of the cavern so long as the fire was burning.Jack flung a number of sticks on the blaze and then passed outside,where he was beyond the circle of light. Standing thus, in the gloom ofthe night, he felt that the experience of that hour was worth thejourney across the continent.
There was an impressive grandeur in the solitude that he had never feltbefore. On every side towered the immense peaks of one of the loftiestspurs of the grandest mountain chain of America. The crests resembledpiles of blackness, with the stars gleaming behind them, while he, aninsignificant atom, stood with gun by his side in one of the tinyhollows, as if to guard against attack from the sleeping monsters.
As is always the case, the stillness of the vast solitude seemed unlikesilence, for a low, deep murmur was ever brooding in the air, varied nowand then by the soft voice of some waterfall, borne across the vastydepths by an eddy in the gentle wind. Once the bark of a wolf sounded sosharp and clear that the youth started and looked to one side, expectingto see the animal steal forward from the gloom, but a moment'sreflection told him the brute was a mile or more distant. Then, sometime later, a mournful, wailing cry rose and fell from some remotepoint. He suspected that that, too, came from the throat of a wolf, buthe was not sure.
Just a touch of homesickness came over Jack Dudley, and he felt lonelyfor the first time since leaving home. As he looked up at the clear skyhe wondered whether his father and mother were well and asleep; whetherthey were dreaming of him; whether they missed him from that loved homeand longed for the day when he should return to them.
"Suppose something happens that will prevent my ever seeing them?" hesaid to himself, while the tears filled his eyes. "I thought when Ibelieved that rattlesnake had bitten me to-day that death was sure; andI was near it, though I was unharmed. We are in more danger here than Iexpected; but we are in danger every hour, no matter where we are. Ihope nothing will befall Fred or me."
And standing alone in the midst of that wild, rugged scene, he silentlylifted his heart to the only One who could protect and save them fromthe hundreds of perils that beset them.
His eye was fixed on the stupendous mountain beyond the plateau, atwhose base wound the canyon, when he observed a growing light on itscrest. The twinkling stars beyond grew dimmer, and the white blanket ofsnow that had lain there for centuries rapidly came out in bolderrelief, until it sparkled and gleamed much as he had seen it do when thesun was shining. Then a curved yellow rim emerged from behind themountain, its climbing of the sky so rapid that the progress was readilynoted. In a brief while the whole form of the round full moon appearedclear of the peak, and its silvery rays began filling the gorges andchasms below.
The scene was picturesque and beautiful beyond description. As the moonclimbed higher, the lower peaks, one after the other, leaped into view,while the hollows between became blacker and more awesome from contrast.Most of these were so deep that the illumination made them appearstronger by the contrast. As the orb ascended it seemed to shrink insize and to climb more slowly; but the shifting of the wonderfulpanorama, progressing as it did in complete silence, was impressive tothe last degree.
It was as if the angels of the sky were noiselessly casting their fleecyveils of light over and into the awful depths below, and driving awaythe crouching monster of blackness that was thus roused from his slumberand forced to flee. Grand as was the scene, it was soothing in itseffect upon the awed lad,
who, leaning against the rock behind him, thestock of his rifle resting at his feet, surveyed it all with feelingsthat drew him nearer to heaven, and gave him a more vivid knowledge ofthe greatness and majesty of the Author of all that he saw and felt.
Standing thus, with his emotions stirred to their profoundest depths,Jack Dudley took no note of the passage of time. Midnight came andpassed, and still he held his post, wondering, admiring and worshipping,as must puny man when brought face to face with such exhibitions ofOmnipotence.
It was an unromantic ending to this experience that, forgetful of theconsequences of what he did, he finally became sensible of theirksomeness of his standing position, and sat down, with his back to therock, that he might enjoy it all without fatigue of body.
Need it be said what followed? He had not been seated ten minutes whenhis senses left him and he became as unconscious as Fred Greenwood,asleep in the cavern, on the other side of the smouldering fire. Thehours passed until the light of the moon paled before the rosy hues ofthe rising sun, and still the boys slumbered and knew naught of what waspassing around them.