With Axe and Rifle

by William Henry Giles Kingston

We accordingly turned back, and on reaching the train found that the mountains were as clearly visible as from where we had first seen them. Near at hand was a rocky height, to the top of which my father and uncle climbed with us, carrying their spy-glasses that they might take a view of the range, and endeavour to discover some opening through which we might hope to make our way.

“Others have gone through yonder rocky barrier, and so may we,” said my father, sweeping the range from north to south with his telescope. After surveying the mountain for some time, he exclaimed, “I see what looks like a cañon where the cliffs appear to rise almost perpendicularly out of the plain. We will direct our course towards it. We shall not reach it to-night, but we will explore it with our carts to-morrow morning, while we leave the waggons in a safe position, so that they may be effectually defended should any Indians venture to attack them, though I have no apprehensions on that score.”

The plan being arranged, we returned to the train, and, verging to the right, moved towards the gap my father had discovered. We reached one end of the lake which we had seen in the morning, and as the sun had already disappeared over the mountains, a halt was called, and we encamped in our usual fashion. We chose a spot with the lake to the south; on one side a rocky height rose precipitously out of the water, on the other was a thick wood; we had thus two sides of the camp strongly defended by nature, and by throwing up a breastwork round the other two sides the camp might be made as strong as could be required. Although an enemy might climb to the top of the rock, yet by posting a couple of men there with rifles, it might be defended against a whole host of foes. The wood being but a short distance off from which the timber required could be obtained, all hands setting to work, before dark the camp was as strongly fortified as we thought requisite.

It was the first time for many days that we had enjoyed a feeling of perfect security. Dio had lighted a fire a little apart from that of the men, that its smoke might keep off the flies, which were inclined to be troublesome. To utilise it, he had hung up one of our pots to boil. Kathleen, being somewhat tired, was asleep in our waggon, while my mother and Lily were seated on the ground near it. Boxer and Toby lay a short distance off, as Lily said, looking at themselves in the lake, into which the oxen, having taken their fill of the luscious grass growing on the bank, had come down to drink.

My father, accompanied by Dan and me, having made a circuit of the camp, to see that all was right, had just joined my mother. Dio, who had been attending to the pot, drew my father aside, to propound some knotty point with regard to the waggon which was under his especial charge, while Dan threw himself down by our mother, to have a game of play with Lily, Rose and Biddy being at a little distance off, busily washing clothes in the lake and singing at the top of their voices, the one a negro, the other an Irish melody, the result, as may be supposed, far from melodious, each stopping, however, every now and then to exchange jokes with the men who happened to be passing near them.

That evening-scene in our camp near the mountains made an impression on me, which is as vivid at the present day as then, and I describe it more perhaps for my own gratification than for any it may afford the readers of my journal.

The next morning we set off on our expedition, Martin Prentis being left in charge of the camp. Our exploring party consisted of my father, Uncle Denis, Mr Tidey, Dan, and I, Dio, and two of the men. My mother begged that she might go with us, and as she would not leave the two little girls behind, Biddy came to assist in taking care of them. We carried one tent, with provisions and everything requisite for forming a camp, so that we might send the empty carts back to bring on more stores, should we find that we could not get the heavy waggons through. Though the ground at a distance appeared to be level, we had a considerable ascent to make before we reached the foot of the cliffs. As we looked ahead, it seemed impossible that we should ever get through the massive rocks piled up before us, but my father, confident that an opening would be found, persevered, and at length we saw some way off, what looked a mere cleft in the rock.

“That’s the mouth of the cañon,” he exclaimed, “though it seems so narrow, it is wide enough for our cart-wheels and that is all we require.”

We eagerly pressed forward and in a short time entered a gloomy defile where the rocks towered up on either side, and in some places hung completely over our heads, but as they had stood for centuries, we had no fear of their tumbling down while we were passing beneath them.

On and on we went, the rocks becoming higher and higher, and forming precipitous cliffs, their summits many hundred feet above us. It was evident that the mountain had been rent asunder by some mighty earthquake without the assistance of water.