Jack found his duty similar in many respects to that of his first night on the prairie, but the surroundings and circumstances were in wide contrast. In the former instance they had the companionship of the cowman and veteran hunter, while now they could not know whether he was within a half-dozen miles of them. Jack, however, did not believe that anything in the nature of danger impended, and that to a great extent he was taking upon himself an unnecessary hardship.
So far as he could judge, the only possible thing to fear was wild animals. There were always some of them prowling through this region, but at that season of the year the wolves and other brutes were not pressed by hunger, and no matter how fierce the creature, he would not attempt 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 of the night, he felt that the experience of that hour was worth the journey across the continent.
There was an impressive grandeur in the solitude that he had never felt before. On every side towered the immense peaks of one of the loftiest spurs of the grandest mountain chain of America. The crests resembled piles of blackness, with the stars gleaming behind them, while he, an insignificant atom, stood with gun by his side in one of the tiny hollows, as if to guard against attack from the sleeping monsters.
As is always the case, the stillness of the vast solitude seemed unlike silence, for a low, deep murmur was ever brooding in the air, varied now and then by the soft voice of some waterfall, borne across the vasty depths by an eddy in the gentle wind. Once the bark of a wolf sounded so sharp and clear that the youth started and looked to one side, expecting to see the animal steal forward from the gloom, but a moment's reflection told him the brute was a mile or more distant. Then, some time later, a mournful, wailing cry rose and fell from some remote point. He suspected that that, too, came from the throat of a wolf, but he was not sure.
Just a touch of homesickness came over Jack Dudley, and he felt lonely for the first time since leaving home. As he looked up at the clear sky he wondered whether his father and mother were well and asleep; whether they were dreaming of him; whether they missed him from that loved home and longed for the day when he should return to them.
"Suppose something happens that will prevent my ever seeing them?" he said to himself, while the tears filled his eyes. "I thought when I believed that rattlesnake had bitten me to-day that death was sure; and I was near it, though I was unharmed. We are in more danger here than I expected; but we are in danger every hour, no matter where we are. I hope nothing will befall Fred or me."
And standing alone in the midst of that wild, rugged scene, he silently lifted his heart to the only One who could protect and save them from the hundreds of perils that beset them.
His eye was fixed on the stupendous mountain beyond the plateau, at whose base wound the canyon, when he observed a growing light on its crest. The twinkling stars beyond grew dimmer, and the white blanket of snow that had lain there for centuries rapidly came out in bolder relief, until it sparkled and gleamed much as he had seen it do when the sun was shining. Then a curved yellow rim emerged from behind the mountain, its climbing of the sky so rapid that the progress was readily noted. In a brief while the whole form of the round full moon appeared clear of the peak, and its silvery rays began filling the gorges and chasms below.
The scene was picturesque and beautiful beyond description. As the moon climbed 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 appear stronger by the contrast. As the orb ascended it seemed to shrink in size and to climb more slowly; but the shifting of the wonderful panorama, progressing as it did in complete silence, was impressive to the last degree.
It was as if the angels of the sky were noiselessly casting their fleecy veils of light over and into the awful depths below, and driving away the crouching monster of blackness that was thus roused from his slumber and forced to flee. Grand as was the scene, it was soothing in its effect upon the awed lad, who, leaning against the rock behind him, the stock of his rifle resting at his feet, surveyed it all with feelings that drew him nearer to heaven, and gave him a more vivid knowledge of the greatness and majesty of the Author of all that he saw and felt.