A plain, marble slab, in the graveyard of the town of G----h, upon which is engraved the lone word, "Eveline," marks the last resting place of the betrothed of the Dying Volunteer.
ESCAPE FROM A MEXICAN QUICKSAND
BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.
A few days afterward, another adventure befell me; and I began to think I was destined to become a hero among the "mountain men."
A small party of the traders--myself among the number--had pushed forward ahead of the caravan. Our object was to arrive at Santa Fé a day or two before the wagons, in order to have every thing arranged with the governor for their entrance into the capital. We took the route by the Cimmaron.
Our road, for a hundred miles or so, lay through a barren desert, without game, and almost without water. The buffalo had all disappeared, and deer were equally scarce. We had to content ourselves on the dried meat which we had brought from the settlements. We were in the deserts of the artemisia. Now and then we could see a stray antelope bounding away before us, but keeping far out of range. They, too, seemed to be unusually shy.
On the third day after leaving the caravan, as we were riding near the Cimmaron, I thought I observed a pronged head disappearing behind a swell in the prairie. My companions were skeptical, and none of them would go with me; so, wheeling out of trail, I started alone. One of them--for Gode was behind--kept charge of my dog, as I did not choose to take him with me, lest he might alarm the antelopes. My horse was fresh and willing; and, whether successful or not, I knew I could easily overtake the party by camping-time.
I struck directly toward the spot where I had seen the object. It appeared to be only half a mile or so from the trail. It proved more distant--a common illusion in the crystal atmosphere of these upland regions.
A curiously formed ridge, traversed the plain from east to west. A thicket of cactus covered part of its summit. Toward the thicket I directed myself.