The Boy Hunters by Mayne Reid (best love story novels in english TXT) 📕

This night they were not permitted to sleep without interruption. Two or three times their horses bounded about at the end of their trail-ropes, frightened by some prowling animal. It might be wolves, thought they; but the dog Marengo, who did not mind the wolves, showed symptoms of terror, growling savagely it intervals, but all the while keeping in by the camp. The mule Jeanette, too, came close up to the fire—as near as her rope would allow her—and our adventurers could see that she trembled, as if in fear of some well-known enemy! Several times they could distinguish, amidst the howling of the wolves, a strange sound, differing altogether from the voices of the latter. It was a kind of continued snort, uttered in a low and querulous tone; and when uttered, it always caused Jeanette to start, and Marengo to crouch closer to them. Could it be the voice of the cougar? or, more fearful thought still, the snort of the grizzly bear? The latter was not unlikely. They were now in a region where these fierce animals are to be met with; and just in such a spot as one or more of them would choose for their abode.

It was a fearful apprehension, and it would have banished sleep from the eyes of the young hunters had they been certain that grizzly bears were in their neighbourhood. They were not certain, however; still they resolved not to sleep all at one time, but to keep watch in turns. The fire was replenished with fresh wood, so that the blaze would enable them to see for a good distance around; and then two of them lay down to sleep again, while the third watched, sitting up with his piece in readiness for any sudden attack. Each took a two-hours’ turn as sentinel until the morning broke, which put an end to their fears, as no enemy appeared to be near them.

They now bestirred themselves, let loose their horses upon the grass, performed their ablutions in the crystal water of the spring, and made ready their breakfast. They did not fail to observe, that their stock of the jerked meat could serve them but a day or two longer; for the wolves at their last camp had carried off a considerable portion of it. They were not without fears as to their future subsistence, as there seemed to be no game in that part of the country except antelopes; and their experience already taught them how little chance they had of capturing these. Should they not fall in with the buffalo, therefore, they might starve with hunger.

These thoughts occupied them while engaged in preparing and eating breakfast; and they resolved to go on half rations of the bear-meat, and economise the little of it that was left.

After breakfast they held a council as to their future route. Should they go north, south, east, or west, from the butte? They were of different minds. At length, however, they all agreed that before coming to any determination, it would be best to climb the butte, and from its top get a view of the surrounding country, which might enable them to resolve upon the best route to be taken. Perhaps they might see the buffaloes from its summit—as it, no doubt, commanded an extensive view of the prairie on all sides.

Shouldering their guns, and leaving their blankets and utensils by the spring, they started on foot to find a place where they might ascend the eminence. They went round by the western end, for their camp was near its north-east side. As they proceeded, they began to fear that there was no place where the hill could be climbed. On all sides it appeared to be a precipice rising perpendicularly from the plain! Here and there loose rocks lay at its base, as if they had fallen from above; and trees grew out of its face, clinging by their roots in the seams of the cliff. Scattered pines standing upon its topmost edge, stretched their branches out over the plain; and the aloe plants, the yuccas, and cacti, added to the wild picturesqueness of its appearance.

On reaching the westernmost point of the butte, a new object presented itself to the eyes of our adventurers. It resembled a range of cliffs, or low mountains, at a great distance off to the west, and running from north to south as far as they could see. It was, in fact, a range of cliffs—similar to those of the butte. It was the eastern escarpment of the famous “Llano Estacado,” or “Staked Plain.” The boys had often heard hunters speak of this tableland, and they recognised its features at a glance. The butte around which they were travelling was nothing more than an outlying “mesa” of this singular formation of the prairies.

After gazing, for a moment, on the far-off bluffs, our young hunters continued on their course, keeping around the southern side of the eminence. Still the cliffs rose perpendicularly, and offered no slope by which they might be scaled. They appeared even higher on this side; and in some places hung over, with dark jutting rocks, and large trees growing horizontally outward.

At one place the boys had halted, and were gazing upward, when several strange-looking creatures suddenly appeared upon the edge of the precipice above them. They were animals, but such as they had never seen before. Each of them was as large as a common deer, and nearly of the same colour—reddish upon the back and flanks, though the throat, hips, and under parts, were of a whitish hue. They were nearly deer-shaped, though of somewhat stouter proportions, and to these they bore a strong resemblance in many other respects. In the form of their heads and general expression of their faces they resembled sheep more than any other animals. But the most singular part of them was the horns; and these enabled our hunters at a glance to tell what sort of animals they were. They were the “cimmarons,” or wild sheep of the Rocky Mountains.

In regard to their horns, they differed very much from one another; and at first sight there appeared to be two distinct species of animals. Some of them had short horns—not over six inches in length—rising from the crown of the head and bending slightly backward, without widening much between the tips. These were the females of the flock. The males, however, presented an appearance altogether different, owing to the immense size of their horns. These grew out immediately over their eyes, first curving backwards, and then forwards again, until their points nearly touched the jaws of the animals on both sides. The horns of some were more than a yard in length, and quite half as much in circumference at the base, where they were deeply indented with ring-like grooves and protuberances, such as are seen in those of the common ram. These huge appendages gave the creatures a singular and imposing appearance, as they stood out upon the brink of the precipice outlined against the blue sky. There were about a dozen of them in all—both males and females,—but the males could be more plainly seen, as they were farther forward upon the cliff, looking down and snuffing the tainted air.

As soon as our young hunters had recovered from their first surprise at this novel sight, all three levelled their pieces with the intention of firing. But the cimmarons seemed to have guessed their design; for, as the guns were pointed upward, they wheeled, and were out of sight in a twinkling.

The boys remained on the spot for more than a quarter of an hour, in hopes that the animals would again make their appearance on the precipice above. The latter, however, did not return. They had satisfied their curiosity; or else, wiser than the antelopes, they were not going to let it lure them into danger. Our hunters, therefore, were at length constrained to leave the spot, and continue their search for a path that might lead upward.

They were now more anxious than ever to reach the summit of the butte. There was a flock of wild sheep upon it, and from these they hoped to replenish their larder. As they proceeded, every crevice or ravine that seemed to lead up the cliff was carefully examined; but upon all its southern front no practicable path could be discovered.

“There must be some way up,” said François, “else how could the sheep have got there?”

“Maybe,” suggested Basil, “they were bred up there, and have never been down to the plain.”

“No,” said Lucien, “that is not likely, brother. There can be no water, I think, upon the table above; and these animals require drink as well as others. They must descend occasionally to the spring for it.”

“Then there is a path,” said François.

“No doubt, for them there is,” replied Lucien; “but for all that, we may not be able to follow it. These animals, although hoofed as sheep are, can scale a cliff like cats, or spring down one like squirrels. It is in that way they are enabled to escape from wolves, panthers, and other beasts who would prey upon them.”

“I have heard,” said Basil, “that they can fling themselves down for a hundred feet or more upon their horns, without receiving the slightest injury. Is that true, Luce?”

“Both the Indians and trappers affirm it, and intelligent travellers have believed them. Whether it be true or not is a question among naturalists, that remains to be cleared up. It is certain that they can leap downward for a very great distance—that they can alight on the narrowest shelves of a precipice without a hoof slipping—that they can spring across fearful chasms, and run swiftly along ledges where a dog or a wolf would not dare to venture. Indeed, they seem to delight in such situations—as if it gave them a pleasure to court danger, just as a school-boy likes to luxuriate in perilous feats of agility.”

“Are these the same that are called ‘big-horns’ by the hunters?” demanded François.

“The same,” answered Lucien; “‘cimmaron’ is the name given by the Spaniards—the earliest explorers of these regions. Naturalists have named them ‘argali,’ from their resemblance to the argali (Ovis ammon), or wild sheep of Europe. They are not the same species, however. In my opinion, they are not wild sheep at all,