Basil and François leaped to their feet, shouting for Lucien to be on the alert: but, to their great surprise, the cimmarons, as if newly terrified by their shouts, and finding their retreat cut off, sprang over the precipice, disappearing instantly from view!
“They must be all killed,” thought Basil and François; and, calling Lucien to come up, all three ran to the point where the animals had leaped off, and looked over. They could see the plain below, but no big-horns! What had become of them?
“Yonder!” cried François; “yonder they go!” and he pointed far out upon the prairie where several reddish-looking objects were seen flying like the wind toward the far bluffs of the Llano Estacado. Lucien now directed the eyes of his brothers to several ledge-like steps upon the cliff, which, no doubt, the animals had made use of in their descent, and had thus been enabled to reach the bottom in safety.
As soon as the cimmarons were out of sight, the hunters turned towards the two that had been shot—both of which, a male and female, lay stretched upon the grass and quite dead. The boys were about to commence skinning them, when Basil and François remembered what they had observed just before firing; and, curious to convince themselves whether the big-horn had actually tumbled over the cliff by accident or leaped off by design, they walked forward to the spot. On looking over the edge, they saw a tree shaking violently below them, and among its branches a large red body was visible. It was the cimmaron; and, to their astonishment, they perceived that he was hanging suspended by one of his huge horns, while his body and legs, kicking and struggling, hung out at their full length in the empty air! It was evident he had tumbled from the top contrary to his intentions; and had been caught accidentally in the branches of the pine. It was a painful sight to witness the efforts of the poor creature; but there was no means of getting him off the tree, as he was far beyond their reach; and Basil, having loaded his rifle, in order to put an end to his agony, sent a bullet through his heart. The shot did not alter his position—as the horn still held on to the branch—but the animal ceased struggling and hung down dead,—to remain there, doubtless, until some hungry vulture should espy him from afar, and, swooping down, strip the flesh from his swinging carcass!
Chapter Twenty Nine.
Besieged by Grizzly Bears.
The young hunters now laid aside their guns, drew their knives, and skinned the cimmarons with the dexterity of practised “killers.” They then cut up the meat, so as the more conveniently to transport it to their camp. The skins they did not care for; so these were suffered to remain on the ground where they had been thrown.
As soon as the “mutton” was quartered, each shouldered a piece, and commenced carrying it toward the ravine, intending to return and bring the rest at another load or two. On reaching the point where the path came up on the table, they saw that it would be difficult for them to descend with their burdens—as it is more easy to climb a precipice than to get down one. Another plan suggested itself; and that was, to pitch the pieces down before them to the bottom of the ravine. This they could accomplish without difficulty. It would do the meat no harm—as they intended to cut it up for jerking—and they could easily wash out the dirt and gravel at the spring, when they had got it all there.