Actuated by these principles of common, but to her fatal, humanity, I rested the butt of my rifle, and reloaded. With a faltering hand, I again leveled the piece and fired:
My nerves were steady enough to do the work. When the smoke floated aside, I could see the little creature bleeding upon the grass--her head resting upon the body of her murdered mate.
I shouldered my rifle, and was about to move forward, when, to my astonishment, I found that I was caught by the feet. I was held firmly as if my legs had been held in a vice.
I made an effort to extricate myself; another, more violent, and equally unsuccessful, and, with a third, I lost my balance, and fell back upon the water. Half suffocated, I regained my upright position, but only to find that I was held as fast as ever. Again I struggled to free my limbs. I could neither move them backward nor forward--to the right nor the left; and I became sensible that I was gradually going down. Then the fearful truth flashed upon me--I was sinking in a quicksand! A feeling of horror came over me. I renewed my efforts with the energy of desperation. I leaned to one side, then to the other, almost wrenching my knees from their sockets. My feet remained as fast as ever. I could not move them an inch.
The soft, clingy sand already overtopped my horse-skin boots, wedging them around my ankles, so that I was unable to draw them off; and I could feel that I was still sinking slowly but surely, as though some subterraneous monster was leisurely dragging me down. This very thought caused me a fresh thrill of horror, and I called aloud for help. To whom? There was no one within miles of me--no living thing. Yes! the neigh of my horse answered me from the hill, mocking me in my despair.
I bent forward as well as my constrained position would permit; and, with frenzied fingers commenced tearing up the sand. I could barely reach the surface, and the little hollow I was able to make filled up almost as soon as it had been formed. A thought occurred to me. My rifle might support me, placed horizontally. I looked for it. It was not to be seen. It had sunk beneath the sand. Could I throw my body flat, and prevent myself from sinking deeper? No! The water was two feet in depth. I should drown at once. This last hope left me as soon as formed. I could think of no plan to save myself. I could make no further effort. A strange stupor seized upon me. My very thoughts became paralyzed. I knew that I was going mad. For a moment I was mad.
After an interval, my senses returned. I made an effort to rouse my mind from its paralysis, in order that I might meet death, which I now believed to be certain, as a man should. I stood erect. My eyes had sunk to the prairie level, and rested upon the still bleeding victims of my cruelty. My heart smote me at the sight. Was I suffering a retribution of God? With humbled and penitent thoughts, I turned my face to heaven, almost dreading that some sign of omnipotent anger would scowl upon me from above. But no! The sun was shining as bright as ever; and the blue canopy of the world was without a cloud. I gazed upward with earnestness known only to the hearts of men in positions of peril like mine.
As I continued to look up, an object attracted my attention. Against the sky, I distinguished the outlines of a large bird. I knew it to be the obscene bird of the plains, the buzzard vulture. Whence had it come? Who knows? Far beyond the reach of human eye, it had seen or scented the slaughtered antelopes; and, on broad, silent wing was now descending to the feast of death. Presently another, and another, and many others, mottled the blue field of the heavens, curving and wheeling silently earthward. Then the foremost swooped down upon the bank, and, after gazing around for a moment, flapped off toward its prey. In a few seconds, the prairie was black with filthy birds, who clambered over the dead antelopes, and beat their wings against each other, while they tore out the eyes of the quarry with their fetid beaks. And now came gaunt wolves, sneaking and hungry, stealing out of the cactus thicket; and loping, coward-like, over the green swells of the prairie. These, after a battle, drove away the vultures, and tore up the prey, all the while growling and snapping vengefully at each other. "Thank heaven! I shall at least be saved from this."
I was soon relieved from the sight. My eyes had sunk below the level of the bank. I had looked my last on the fair, green earth. I could now see only the clayey wall that contained the river, and the water that ran unheeding past me. Once more I fixed my gaze upon the sky, and, with prayerful heart, endeavored to resign myself to my fate. In spite of my endeavors to be calm, the memories of earthly pleasures, and friends, and home, came over me, causing me, at intervals, to break into wild paroxysms, and make fresh, though fruitless struggles. And I was attracted by the neighing of my horse. A thought entered my mind, filling me with fresh hope. "Perhaps my horse--" I lost not a moment. I raised my voice to its highest pitch, and called the animal by name. I knew that he would come at my call. I had tied him but slightly. The cactus limb would snap off. I called again, repeating words that were well known to him. I listened with a bounding heart. For a moment there was silence. Then I heard the quick sounds of his hoof, as though the animal was rearing and struggling to free himself; then I could distinguish the stroke of his heels, in a measured and regular gallop.
Nearer came the sounds; nearer and clearer, until the gallant brute bounded out on the bank above me. There he halted, and, flinging back his tossed mane, uttered a shrill neigh. He was bewildered, and looked upon every side, snorting loudly.