“You are right, Godfrey; and I have no doubt he must have been overtaken by sickness, or been starved to death.” Immediately after, Mudge exclaimed,—“See! there is a piece of cloth hanging in that bush above our heads; perhaps it was intended as a signal to any passer-by, or has been blown there by the wind. I’ll take off my knapsack and climb to the top; there appears to be a broad ledge, from which I may get a view down the gorge, and perhaps discover the most practicable path for us to follow.”
Mudge did as he proposed; when, getting his head above the level of the ledge, he turned round and exclaimed,—“It is as I expected. There lies the skeleton of the unhappy wretch, picked as clean as the bones of his horse. He must have climbed up here for the purpose of looking about him, and sunk down and died. Not an article of clothing remains; the ants and birds must have carried that off.”
“Heaven grant that his fate may not be ours!” I could not help mentally exclaiming.
Mudge having looked round the ledge, and taken a glance along the valley, now rejoined me. We had no time to lose, and were glad to get away from the remains of the unhappy man and his steed. The powder-horn was empty; and as we did not wish to add to the weight of our knapsacks, we left that and the other articles, with the exception of my knife, which I put in my pocket. We were very doubtful at times whether any horse could get over the rough ground along which we made our way.
At last, night approaching, we were obliged to encamp in a wild and desolate spot, the least satisfactory we had as yet stopped at. The only shelter we could find was under an overhanging rock; such bushes as we could see not affording us the means of building a hut or putting up any protection against the night wind, which blew keenly across the heights. We managed, however, to cut a sufficient quantity of dry wood to light a fire, at which to boil the tea-kettle and cook our last remaining bird. It was somewhat high, but we ate a portion notwithstanding, reserving some for breakfast next morning. We had now only a few mouthfuls of water at the bottom of our bottles, and, as far as we could judge from the appearance of the country to the southward, which presented a succession of rocky heights, it might be long before we could replenish our store. We had still, however, some preserved meat and flour and a small quantity of biscuit, which we had hitherto carefully husbanded; and we hoped before that was exhausted to get into a region where game and fruits of some sort could be found. We did not, therefore, allow our spirits to be depressed. It was a great thing to be conscious that we were performing an important duty; and I especially felt very thankful that my mother and Edith had not been induced to attempt crossing the mountains on foot before we had explored the way.
The place we had chosen was, at all events, dry enough, and we hoped, by creeping close under the rock, not to suffer much from the cold.
Having said our prayers,—which, I may here observe, we always did both morning and evening,—we recommended ourselves to the care of our heavenly Father, and fearlessly lay down to rest.