In the Pecos Country by Edward Sylvester Ellis (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📕

slight nausea was greatly intensified, and he reclined upon the ground in the hope that it would soon pass over.

Instead of doing so, he grew worse, and he stretched out upon the ground, firmly persuaded that his last hour had came. He was deathly pale, and had he espied a cougar peering over the corner of the rock, he would n't have paid him the least attention—no, not if there had been a dozen of them!

What alarmed Fred as much as anything was some of the accompaniments of his trouble. As he laid his head upon the ground, it seemed to him that he could catch the faint sound of falling water, just as if there was a little cascade a mile away, and the gentle wind brought him the soft, musical cadence. Then, too, when he flung himself upon the ground, it gave forth a hollow sound, such as he had never heard before. Several times he banged his heel against the earth, and the same peculiarity was noticed.

All this the poor fellow took as one of the accompaniments of the poisoning, and as additional proof that he was beyond hope. He rolled upon the ground in misery, and wondered whether he would have his mind about him when the last dreadful moment should come; but after a half hour or more had passed, and he was still himself, he began to feel a renewal of hope.

“It may be that I ate too many of them,” he reflected, as he found himself able to sit up, “and there's nothing poisonous about them, after all. If that's so, I've got a good meal, anyway, and know where to get another.”

It was nearly dark, and, as he was still weak, he concluded to spend the night where he was.

A rod or so away was a dense clump of bushes, which seemed to offer an inviting shelter, and he gained his feet with the intention of walking to them. He had taken no more than a couple of steps, however, when such a dizziness overcame him that he sank at once to the ground, and stretched out for relief. It was a case of poisoning beyond question, but not of a dangerous nature; and Fred had about time to lie flat when he experienced a grateful relief.

“I guess I'll stay here a while,” he muttered, recalling his experience. “I can crawl in among the bushes in the night, if I find it getting cold, or any rain falls.”

Darkness had scarcely descended, when the lad sank into a quiet, dreamless slumber. His rest of the night previous had not been of a refreshing character, and his traveling during the day had been very exhaustive, so that his wearied system was greatly in need of rest.

Fred was really in the most delightful climate in the world. New Mexico is so far south that the heat in many portions, at certain seasons of the year, assumes a tropical fervor. On some of the arid plains the sun's rays have an intensity like that of the Sahara; but numerous ranges of mountains traverse the territory north and south, with spurs in all directions, and the elevation of many of these give a temperature as cool and pleasant as can be desired.

As the lad stretched out upon the ground, he was without a blanket, or any covering except his ordinary clothes; and he needed nothing more. The surrounding rocks shut out all wind, and the air was not warm enough to cause perspiration. The fact was, he had struck that golden mean which leaves nothing to be desired as regards the atmosphere.

The sky remained clear, and, as the moon climbed higher and higher in the sky, it was only at intervals that a fleecy cloud floated before it, causing fantastic shadows to glide over the ground, and making strange phantom-like formations among the mountain peaks and along the chasms, gorges, ravines, and precipices. Had the sleeping lad awoke and risen to his feet, he would have seen nothing of wolf, catamount, or Indian, nor would the straining vision have caught the glimmer of any solitary camp-fire. He was alone in the great solitude, with no eye but the all-seeing One to watch over him.

It was a curious fact connected with the boy's wanderings that more than once he was within a stone's throw of the pass for which he was so anxiously searching; and yet he never suspected it, owing to his unfamiliarity with the territory. As is nearly always the case with an inexperienced hunter, he showed a continual tendency to travel in a circle, the nature of the ground only preventing him from doing so.

Fred slept, without disturbance, until after midnight. An hour or so previous to his waking, when the moon was in the best position to lighten up the earth below, the figure of a man appeared upon an eminence, a hundred yards or more away, and stood motionless for several minutes, as though he were engaged in reverie.

Could one have looked more closely, he would have seen that the stranger's action and manner showed that he was hunting for something. He turned slowly around several times, scanning the ravines, gorges, peaks, and declivities as best he could; but he did not expect to gain much, without the daylight to assist him, and the result of the attempt was anything but satisfactory.

Muttering some impatient exclamation, he turned about and walked slowly away, taking a direction almost the opposite of that which led toward the sleeping boy. He moved with caution, like one accustomed to the wilderness, and was soon lost to view in the gloom.

Then Fred Munson awoke, it was with the impression upon him that he was near some waterfall. He raised his head, but could detect nothing; but when he placed his ear to the ground, he caught it once again.

“I have it!” he said to himself; “there is a waterfall somewhere about here under the ground. That's what makes it sound so hollow when I stamp on it.”

He was greatly relieved to find that no results of his afternoon's nausea remained by him. He had recovered entirely, and when he rather doubtingly assumed the sitting position and felt that his head and stomach remained clear he was considerably elated in spirits.

“That shows that I can get a meal at any time, if I want it bad enough to take a few hours' sickness in pay. Maybe I can find something else to eat which won't be so hard on me. It must be very near morning, for I have slept a great while.”

The hour, however, was earlier then he supposed, and he found, after sitting awhile, that his old drowsiness was returning.

Before giving way to it, he recalled the clump of bushes, which was so near that it was easily seen from where he sat.

“I forgot that I meant to make my bed there.”

With which he rose and moved toward it, not feeling altogether certain of the wisdom of what he was doing.

“That looks very much like the place where the cougar was waiting for me, but I didn't think there were enough in this country to furnish one for every bush.”

He reconnoitered it for several minutes, but finally ventured upon a closer acquaintance. There certainly was no wild animal there, and he stooped down and began crawling toward the centre.