A STORY OF NORTHERN ARIZONA.
BY KIRK MUNROE,
Author of "Rick Dale," "The Fur-Seal's Tooth," "Snow-Shoes and Sledges," "The Mate Series," etc.
CHAPTER III.
LOST ON THE PAINTED DESERT.
illed with a determination not to become rattled by the perils surrounding him, our young hunter at once proceeded to select a camping-place and make his scanty preparations for passing the long hours of darkness. With neither wood, water, nor grass to be seen in any direction, and all places looking alike uninviting, the task was not difficult. Dismounting, and leading his horse to a little recessed gully at the foot of a steep bluff, which would at least afford a shelter from the wind, Todd unsaddled, fastened the free end of the picket-rope to a bowlder, cleared away the rocky fragments from a small space of level sand, and unrolled his blankets.
Thus the sorry camp was made; and as the poor boy contrasted it with the one he had occupied but the night before—a camp of cheerful fires, merry talk, an abundance of food, and an atmosphere of perfect security—the horrors of his present position crowded upon him like black forms, from which he recoiled with a shiver of apprehension. He found in one of his pockets half a hard biscuit that remained from his lunch of that day, and this, with a sup of lukewarm water from the scanty supply still remaining in his canteen, formed his evening meal. Then, with the saddle for a pillow and rifle by his side, he rolled himself in his blankets and tried to sleep.
For a long time he could not, and when he finally stepped into the land of dreams they were of such an unhappy nature that he was thankful to awake from them and find a faint dawn stealing over the weird landscape. Both he and his pony were shivering with the chill of early morning when he once more mounted and attempted to retrace his course of the previous day. This, however, was soon given up as a fruitless task, for in that region every prominent feature was reproduced over and over again with a bewildering sameness. Then he sought for some one among the many inaccessible sandstone bluffs by which he was surrounded that might be climbed. Before he found such a one and gained its summit the sun was high overhead, and blazing down with a pitiless heat. Still, on attaining the desired elevation, the lad felt amply repaid, for not many miles away he could plainly see a regular range of bluffs and the trees that indicated a river. He could even catch glimpses here and there of flashing waters. To be sure, these things did not lie in what he believed to be the right direction; but recalling that lost persons generally become turned about, he decided that this must have happened in his case. Carefully noting the bearings of intervening objects, the boy hastened down from his observatory, remounted, and began to urge his unwilling steed over the new course thus laid out.
For hours he travelled, wondering at the distance with each succeeding mile, until finally, at the crest of a long and toilsome ascent, he gained a point from which he again commanded a broad view of the outlying country. Casting an eager glance in the direction he supposed the river to be, the poor lad rubbed his eyes and looked again. Then, as he realized the bitter truth that there was no river, and that he had been the victim of a fleeting mirage, all his strength and energy seemed to leave him, and he sank down on a fragment of rock as weak as a babe. For some time he sat oblivious to his surroundings. He did not note the wonderful scenery outspread as far as the eye could reach on all sides, and upon which every other boy in the country would have considered it a rare privilege to gaze. He had no thought save for his crushing disappointment and his own melancholy condition. He was weak in body from hunger, thirst, and fatigue, and heart-sick at remembrance of the folly and disobedience that had brought him to such a pass.
After a while a pull on the bridle-rein hanging across his arm roused him and caused him to look up. His pony was pulling away, as though impatient to be off.
"I want to go as much as you do, old fellow," said the boy, sadly; "but which way shall we turn?"
Just then his eye lighted on a cluster of slender blue pinnacles rising above a distant horizon, and appearing so different from all that intervened as to seem like signs of friendly promise. At the same time he saw, lying between him and them, a lovely rock-rimmed valley filled with green grass and waving trees, and threaded by a sparkling stream of water.
The boy gazed eagerly at the beautiful picture; and then, as it became blurred by dancing heat-waves, he closed his eyes wearily, muttering that it was only an effect of imagination. In a minute he opened them again, and saw the lovely valley as distinctly as before.
"It may be real, and we'll make a try for it, at any rate," he said, aloud, rising from the rock on which he had been sitting, and climbing very slowly into the saddle.
This time he was determined to gain frequent assurance that he was on the right course. So, within half an hour after leaving the place from which he had discovered the lovely valley, he fastened his pony by the picket-rope to a miniature spire of sandstone, and clambered on foot to the top of another elevated outlook. He hardly dared glance abroad, for fear that all the things he had seen before would have vanished. No. There at least were the slender blue peaks, looking as cool and refreshing, but, alas! quite as distant as before. But where was the green valley? It had disappeared, and in its place rose a range of tall cliffs, like a great white wall, miles in length.
It was a very cruel disappointment; but either the lad's senses were becoming numbed by his sufferings or he had expected it, for he only sighed wearily as he turned away.
"The blue peaks are there, at any rate," he said to himself, as he descended to the plain, "and I will make toward them. If I can reach them, I know I shall be all right; and if I can't—well, I will die as near to them as possible."
When he regained the place where he had left his pony he had been absent from it nearly, if not quite, an hour. Now it seemed as though he must have made some mistake in retracing his steps, for the animal was nowhere to be seen. There were his tracks, though, and there was the slender shaft of rotten sandstone to which he had been fastened, freshly broken off, and lying there upon the ground.
"Oh, what a fool I am! What a poor blind fool!" groaned the boy, as the full extent of this fresh disaster was made plain to him. "If I had only let the brute have his head in the first place, he would have carried me to the nearest water. I have often heard Mort say that a horse has a better knowledge of such things than a man; and of course he knows, for Mort knows everything. He knew that I was no more fit to take care of myself than a child, and he knew I would get lost. Oh, why didn't he send me back home, or tie me up, or do something to save me from my own foolish self? The dear old fellow won't be bothered with me any more, though, for we shall never meet again in this world. Poor Mort, how he must be suffering! But I can't die here. I can't! It is too horrible! If I could only reach those blue mountains. I wonder if there is the slightest chance of it? I wonder how long a fellow can live and travel without food or water?
"Water! Oh, for a long cool drink of it! How gladly would I give the wealth of the world to lie beside one of those springs that we passed a day or two ago, and drink and drink and drink! Or the well at grandfather's. Or the trout brook up in the Alleghanies. Or— But I mustn't think of such things or I shall go crazy, and that will be the end of everything. I will make a try, though, for those blue mountains, for I am sure there are springs and lovely streams in their dark cool valley. If I can only reach them! Oh, what joy! And if I don't— Well, I will have done my best. Which way are they? Yes, I know—they are over there, and if I walk all night and all day to-morrow I will surely come to them by to-morrow night. Only twenty-four hours more, and I believe I can hold out that long."
So the poor lad started, and walked with uncertain steps through the yielding sands in a direction that he believed would lead him to the wished-for mountains. He could no longer see them, but he knew their slender pinnacles were steadfastly uplifted like taper fingers beckoning to him and promising pleasant things.
Just before sunset he came to a broad opening between the clustering mesas, through which he caught another glimpse of them, now tinged with a rosy flush, and seeming more beautiful than before, but in a few minutes the light faded and they were gone. Then, trembling with weakness, the lad sat down and watched until a star rose where he had last seen them, when, with it as a guide, he resumed his weary way. He often stumbled, and sometimes he fell, but still he pushed on, until at length his glittering beacon was obscured by black clouds. Then he sank to the ground, without heart to rise again.
For a long time he lay asleep or in a stupor, from which he might never have awakened but for a shower of rain, that, falling on his upturned face, roused him to consciousness. Eagerly sucking the precious fluid from his saturated garments, and gaining fresh strength with every life-giving drop, he waited for the dawn, and with the first hazy glimpse of the far-away blue peaks he again staggered toward them.
The sun rose and scorched him with its pitiless heat, until he seemed to be treading coals of fire. Mirage after mirage danced before his bewildered vision, with pictures of all things shady and cool and refreshing, until his eye-sight failed him, and he groped his way amid a darkness shot by glowing sparks. The last thing of which he was conscious was a great white wall that seemed to rise to the sky before him, and stretch to infinity on either side. It seemed to shut him off completely from the blue peaks he had striven so bravely to gain, and apparently presented an effectual barrier to any further progress.
In that last moment his head was splitting, his brain was on fire, his mouth and throat were like molten brass, his whole body was racked with pain, and his feet were like leaden weights. Then all sense of suffering was lost in a delicious laughter, and he seemed to be floating through infinite space that was filled with the music of rippling waters.
CHAPTER IV.
IN THE SHADOW OF THE GREAT WHITE MESA.
For many hours Todd Chalmers slept heavily and dreamlessly, like one who will never again awaken. He had wandered blindly with reeling steps for some time after losing a consciousness of his surroundings, and had thus unwittingly penetrated a deep cleft of the great white wall that was the last thing upon which his despairing gaze had rested. At the inner end of this recess he stumbled and fell over a fragment of rock. There he lay through the long night in what was, to all appearance, his last sleep.
That it was not was owing wholly to his youth and the wonderful vitality of a splendid constitution. Not more than one person in a thousand would have lived to see another daylight under the circumstances; but our lad was that one, and at length he began to show signs of returning life. He moaned, shivered, and finally opened his eyes. For many minutes he lay motionless, striving to remember what had happened and where he was.
At length he slowly and painfully sat up. His head ached as though it would split, his eyes were blurred, his lips and tongue were swollen, and his limbs were heavy as lead. Still, his long rest, together with the chill of the night just passed, had restored him to life and to a certain degree of strength.
Now, with the encouragement of even a slight amount of hope, he would be ready to renew his struggle against the death that had so nearly overpowered him.
Thus thinking, Todd withdrew his eyes from the picture of glistening desolation disclosed through the narrow entrance of the cavern, and began listlessly to examine his more immediate surroundings. Slowly his gaze roved over the hopeless walls of rock, that rose so high as to be lost in gloom, and it was not until he had turned so as to look squarely behind him that he found anything to arrest his attention. Then his curiosity was aroused by a gleam of reflected light coming from beyond and over a rocky barrier that formed a rear wall of the cavern. This barrier did not appear to be more than ten or twelve feet high, while above it was an open space of a few feet more, through which streamed the light that indicated an opening of some kind beyond.
Whatever might lie in that direction, it could not be worse than the desert over which he had come, and it might be better. Of course that was not at all likely, for he did not believe there was anything but desert in that country. Still, it was worth investigating, and as Todd did not feel strong enough to stand, he crawled painfully to the barrier and up its easy slope.
HE GAZED LONG BEFORE HE COULD BELIEVE.
Arrived at the top, and looking through the opening, he was greeted by a sight so amazing that he gazed at it for nearly a minute in breathless incredulity before he could believe in its reality. Instead of the desert that he had expected, it seemed as though the very gates of heaven had been suddenly opened to him.
Outspread before his astonished eyes was one of the loveliest valleys in the world, filled with flowers, green grass, and waving trees. It was not more than half a mile in width, and was bounded on the further side by another lofty wall of white rock, similar to the one he had just penetrated. The same wall extended entirely around the upper end of the valley, which Todd could see on his left, though to the right it stretched away beyond his range of vision, still enclosed by parallel walls of sheer cliffs. Though most of it still lay in cool shadow, certain portions of the verdant landscape were already sparkling in the morning sunlight, and from all sides came the joyous song of birds. No smoke rose from any part of the valley that he could see, neither was there any sign of human habitation nor sound of voices. All was as fresh and peaceful as though it were a new creation; but even if he had been confronted by opposing ranks of enemies, Todd would not have hesitated to scramble down the opposite slope and enter what still seemed to him the vale of enchantment. Its abounding verdure indicated the presence of water, for which our poor lad was longing so desperately that he would have thrown away life itself in an effort to obtain it.
He had already regained the use of his limbs, and after a minute of gazing, amazed and incredulous, he started in search of the life-giving fluid, instantly forgetful of feebleness, aches, pains, and everything else save the awful thirst by which he was choked. So concentrated were his thoughts upon this one subject that he failed to realize that he was following a distinctly marked pathway. Such was the fact, however, and after a hundred yards it led him to the edge of that most beautiful thing in all the world, especially when found in a land of deserts, a spring of pure cool water. It bubbled up from a bed of exquisitely colored sand, and was neatly walled about with rock.
It was fortunate that Todd plunged his whole head into the spring in his frantic eagerness to drink of its water, for he was compelled to withdraw it, gasping for breath before he had drunk a tenth part of what he craved. Much as he longed to drink, and drink until he could hold no more, he had sense enough to realize the danger of such a proceeding, and the strength of will to restrain himself. So he only lay beside the delicious spring, bathing his face and dabbling his hands in it, taking moderate drinks at half-minute intervals, and feeling with each one a new life coursing through his veins.
For an hour he remained thus in perfect contentment, devoutly thankful for his wonderful deliverance from an awful death, and gaining strength with every minute. Then the sensation of thirst gave way to that of hunger. He had not thought of it before, but now he knew that he was starving, and must eat something, even if it were only grass. So he stood up and looked about him, recognizing for the first time that he had followed a trail which still extended beyond the spring, beside a stream that rippled merrily from it toward the centre of the valley. Looking in that direction, Todd caught glimpses through the trees of a pool or pond fed by the stream, and toward it he now made his way.
Although in the desperation of thirst he had rushed recklessly forward in search of water, he now proceeded with all the caution that his hunger would permit. The path that he was following and the artificial walling of the spring indicated so plainly the presence of human beings in the valley that he could not neglect the warning thus conveyed. "Of course," he argued to himself, "none but Indians could live in so isolated and out-of-the-world place as this, and while they might prove friendly, the chances are that they might shoot in the flurry of a sudden discovery. So I'll try and see them before giving them a chance to see me."
Advancing thus slowly, and peering eagerly ahead, he had gone but a short distance, when he was startled by the sight of a house, or rather a stone hut, only a short distance in front of him, and near the pool he had already noticed. For several minutes he stood motionless, regarding it closely; then, as it presented no sign of being occupied, he moved cautiously forward until he could command a view of its doorway, which was closed by a curtain of skins. The walls of the hut were low, and a stone chimney projected from its roof of coarse thatch.
It did not look to our lad exactly like an abode of Indians, nor yet like that of a white man, and he wondered what race of people would greet him when his presence should be discovered. He called twice, "Hello the house!" but receiving no answer, stepped softly to the door and looked in. The hut was empty, and Todd drew the curtain well back, so as to obtain plenty of light for an examination of its interior.
A fireplace, a rude table, two equally rude stools, a bunk filled with skins, and also a few earthenware vessels of crude design constituted its sole furniture. The young explorer examined these things carefully, in the hope of discovering something to eat; but, to his intense disappointment, he did not find so much as a kernel of corn. Nor could he learn anything concerning those to whom the hut belonged. Everything was sufficiently primitive to be the work of Indians, and yet he had seen equally rude furnishings in the cabins of certain white men whom he had remembered.
That the hut had been recently occupied was shown by fresh ashes in the fireplace, and by a jug of water that stood on the table. Who could its owners be? What had become of them? How would they treat him when they discovered his invasion of their premises? And where did they store all their provisions?—were questions that the boy asked himself over and over again. Above all, what was he to do for something to eat? For he was now suffering almost as much from hunger as he had from thirst an hour before. As he gazed moodily at the cold embers of the fireplace, deliberating these questions, he was startled by the sound of feet just outside the hut, and a voice, apparently that of a child, calling plaintively for its mother.
"The folks have come home," he said to himself, "and in another minute my fate will be decided." At the same time he stepped resolutely to the doorway and looked out.