The great prairies of the far west--A remarkable colonydiscovered, and a miserable night endured. Of all the hours of the night or day the hour thatsucceeds the dawn is the purest, the most joyous,and the best. At least so think we, and so think hundredsand thousands of the human family. And sothought Dick Varley, as he sprang suddenly into asitting posture next morning, and threw his arms withan exulting feeling of delight round the neck of Crusoe,who instantly sat up to greet him.
This was an unusual piece of enthusiasm on the partof Dick; but the dog received it with marked satisfaction,rubbed his big hairy cheek against that of hisyoung master, and arose from his sedentary position inorder to afford free scope for the use of his tail.
"Ho! Joe Blunt! Henri! Up, boys, up! The sunwill have the start o' us. I'll catch the nags."So saying Dick bounded away into the woods, withCrusoe gambolling joyously at his heels. Dick sooncaught his own horse, and Crusoe caught Joe's. Thenthe former mounted and quickly brought in the othertwo.
Returning to the camp he found everything packedand ready to strap on the back of the pack-horse.
"That's the way to do it, lad," cried Joe. "Here,Henri, look alive and git yer beast ready. I do believeye're goin' to take another snooze!"Henri was indeed, at that moment, indulging in agigantic stretch and a cavernous yawn; but he finishedboth hastily, and rushed at his poor horse as if he intendedto slay it on the spot. He only threw the saddleon its back, however, and then threw himself on thesaddle.
"Now then, all ready?""Ay"--"Oui, yis!"And away they went at full stretch again on theirjourney.
Thus day after day they travelled, and night afternight they laid them down to sleep under the trees ofthe forest, until at length they reached the edge of theGreat Prairie.
It was a great, a memorable day in the life of DickVarley, that on which he first beheld the prairie--thevast boundless prairie. He had heard of it, talked ofit, dreamed about it, but he had never--no, he hadnever realized it. 'Tis always thus. Our conceptionsof things that we have not seen are almost invariablywrong. Dick's eyes glittered, and his heart swelled, andhis cheeks flushed, and his breath came thick and quick.
"There it is," he gasped, as the great rolling plainbroke suddenly on his enraptured gaze; "that's it--oh!--"Dick uttered a yell that would have done credit tothe fiercest chief of the Pawnees, and being unable toutter another word, he swung his cap in the air andsprang like an arrow from a bow over the mighty oceanof grass. The sun had just risen to send a flood ofgolden glory over the scene, the horses were fresh, sothe elder hunters, gladdened by the beauty of all aroundthem, and inspired by the irresistible enthusiasm oftheir young companion, gave the reins to the horses andflew after him. It was a glorious gallop, that firstheadlong dash over the boundless prairie of the "farwest."The prairies have often been compared, most justly,to the ocean. There is the same wide circle of spacebounded on all sides by the horizon; there is the sameswell, or undulation, or succession of long low unbrokenwaves that marks the ocean when it is calm; they arecanopied by the same pure sky, and swept by the sameuntrammelled breezes. There are islands, too--clumpsof trees and willow-bushes--which rise out of thisgrassy ocean to break and relieve its uniformity; andthese vary in size and numbers as do the isles of ocean,being numerous in some places, while in others they areso scarce that the traveller does not meet one in a longday's journey. Thousands of beautiful flowers deckedthe greensward, and numbers of little birds hoppedabout among them.
"Now, lads," said Joe Blunt, reining up, "our troublesbegin to-day.""Our troubles?--our joys, you mean!" exclaimedDick Varley.
"P'r'aps I don't mean nothin' o' the sort," retortedJoe. "Man wos never intended to swaller his joyswithout a strong mixtur' o' troubles. I s'pose he couldn't stand 'empure.
Ye see we've got to the prairie now--""One blind hoss might see dat!" interrupted Henri.
"An' we may or may not diskiver buffalo. An'
water's scarce, too, so we'll need to look out for it prettysharp, I guess, else we'll lose our horses, in which casewe may as well give out at once. Besides, there'srattlesnakes about in sandy places, we'll ha' to look outfor them; an' there's badger holes, we'll need to looksharp for them lest the horses put their feet in 'em; an'
there's Injuns, who'll look out pretty sharp for us ifthey once get wind that we're in them parts.""Oui, yis, mes boys; and there's rain, and tunder, andlightin'," added Henri, pointing to a dark cloud whichwas seen rising on the horizon ahead of them.
"It'll be rain," remarked Joe; "but there's no thunderin the air jist now. We'll make for yonder clumpo' bushes and lay by till it's past."Turning a little to the right of the course they hadbeen following, the hunters galloped along one of thehollows between the prairie waves before mentioned, inthe direction of a clump of willows. Before reachingit, however, they passed over a bleak and barren plainwhere there was neither flower nor bird. Here theywere suddenly arrested by a most extraordinary sight--atleast it was so to Dick Varley, who had never seenthe like before. This was a colony of what Joe called"prairie-dogs." On first beholding them Crusoe uttereda sort of half growl, half bark of surprise, cocked histail and ears, and instantly prepared to charge; but heglanced up at his master first for permission. Observingthat his finger and his look commanded "silence," hedropped his tail at once and stepped to the rear. Hedid not, however, cease to regard the prairie-dogs withintense curiosity.
These remarkable little creatures have been egregiouslymisnamed by the hunters of the west, for theybear not the slightest resemblance to dogs, either in formationor habits. They are, in fact, the marmot, and insize are little larger than squirrels, which animals theyresemble in some degree. They burrow under the lightsoil, and throw it up in mounds like moles.
Thousands of them were running about among theirdwellings when Dick first beheld them; but the momentthey caught sight of the horsemen rising over the ridgethey set up a tremendous hubbub of consternation.
Each little beast instantly mounted guard on the top ofhis house, and prepared, as it were, "to receive cavalry."The most ludicrous thing about them was that, althoughthe most timid and cowardly creatures in theworld, they seemed the most impertinent things thatever lived! Knowing that their holes afforded them aperfectly safe retreat, they sat close beside them; and asthe hunters slowly approached, they elevated their heads,wagged their little tails, showed their teeth, and chatteredat them like monkeys. The nearer they came themore angry and furious did the prairie-dogs become,until Dick Varley almost fell off his horse with suppressedlaughter. They let the hunters come close up,waxing louder and louder in their wrath; but the instanta hand was raised to throw a stone or point agun, a thousand little heads dived into a thousand holes,and a thousand little tails wriggled for an instant inthe air--then a dead silence reigned over the desertedscene.
"Bien, them's have dive into de bo'-els of de eart',"said Henri with a broad grin.
Presently a thousand noses appeared, and nervouslydisappeared, like the wink of an eye. Then they appearedagain, and a thousand pair of eyes followed.
Instantly, like Jack in the box, they were all on the topof their hillocks again, chattering and wagging theirlittle tails as vigorously as ever. You could not saythat you saw them jump out of their holes. Suddenly,as if by magic, they were out; then Dick tossed up hisarms, and suddenly, as if by magic, they were gone!
Their number was incredible, and their cities werefull of riotous activity. What their occupations werethe hunters could not ascertain, but it was perfectlyevident that they visited a great deal and gossipedtremendously, for they ran about from house to house,and sat chatting in groups; but it was also observedthat they never went far from their own houses. Eachseemed to have a circle of acquaintance in the immediateneighbourhood of his own residence, to which in case ofsudden danger he always fled.
But another thing about these prairie-dogs (perhaps,considering their size, we should call them prairie-doggies), anotherthingabout them, we say, was thateach doggie lived with an owl, or, more correctly, anowl lived with each doggie! This is such an extraordinaryfact that we could scarce hope that men wouldbelieve us, were our statement not supported by dozensof trustworthy travellers who have visited and writtenabout these regions. The whole plain was covered withthese owls. Each hole seemed to be the residence of anowl and a doggie, and these incongruous couples livedtogether apparently in perfect harmony.
We have not been able to ascertain from travellerswhy the owls have gone to live with these doggies, sowe beg humbly to offer our own private opinion to thereader. We assume, then, that owls find it absolutelyneedful to have holes. Probably prairie-owls cannot digholes for themselves. Having discovered, however, arace of little creatures that could, they very likely determinedto take forcible possession of the holes madeby them. Finding, no doubt, that when they did sothe doggies were too timid to object, and discovering,moreover, that they were sweet, innocent little creatures,the owls resolved to take them into partnership,and so the thing was settled--that's how it came about,no doubt of it!
There is a report that rattlesnakes live in these holesalso; but we cannot certify our reader of the truth ofthis. Still it is well to be acquainted with a report thatis current among the men of the backwoods. If it betrue, we are of opinion that the doggie's family is themost miscellaneous and remarkable on the face of--or,as Henri said, in the bo'-els of the earth.
Dick and his friends were so deeply absorbed inwatching these curious little creatures that they did notobserve the rapid spread of the black clouds over thesky. A few heavy drops of rain now warned them toseek shelter, so wheeling round they dashed off at fullspeed for the clump of willows, which they gained justas the rain began to descend in torrents.
"Now, lads, do it slick. Off packs and saddles," criedJoe Blunt, jumping from his horse. "I'll make a hutfor ye, right off.""A hut, Joe! what sort o' hut can ye make here?"inquired Dick.
"Ye'll see, boy, in a minute.""Ach! lend me a hand here, Dick; de bockle amtight as de hoss's own skin. Ah! dere all right.""Hallo! what's this?" exclaimed Dick, as Crusoeadvanced with something in his mouth. "I declare, it'sa bird o' some sort.""A prairie-hen," remarked Joe, as Crusoe laid thebird at Dick's feet; "capital for supper.""Ah! dat chien is superb! goot dog. Come here, Ivill clap you."But Crusoe refused to be caressed. Meanwhile, Joeand Dick formed a sort of beehive-looking hut bybending down the stems of a tall bush and thrustingtheir points into the ground. Over this they threw thelargest buffalo robe, and placed another on the groundbelow it, on which they laid their packs of goods.
These they further secured against wet by placingseveral robes over them and a skin of parchment. Thenthey sat down on this pile to rest, and consider whatshould be done next.
"'Tis a bad look-out," said Joe, shaking his head.
"I fear it is," replied Dick in a melancholy tone.
Henri said nothing, but he sighed deeply on lookingup at the sky, which was now of a uniform watery gray,while black clouds drove athwart it. The rain waspouring in torrents, and the wind began to sweep it inbroad sheets over the plains, and under their slight covering,so that in a short time they were wet to the skin.
The horses stood meekly beside them, with their tailsand heads equally pendulous; and Crusoe sat before hismaster, looking at him with an expression that seemedto say, "Couldn't you put a stop to this if you were totry?""This'll never do. I'll try to git up a fire," saidDick, jumping up in desperation.
"Ye may save yerself the trouble," remarked Joedryly--at least as dryly as was possible in the circumstances.
However, Dick did try, but he failed signally. Everythingwas soaked and saturated. There were no largetrees; most of the bushes were green, and the dead oneswere soaked. The coverings were slobbery, the skinsthey sat on were slobbery, the earth itself was slobbery;so Dick threw his blanket (which was also slobbery)round his shoulders, and sat down beside his companionsto grin and bear it. As for Joe and Henri, they wereold hands and accustomed to such circumstances. Fromthe first they had resigned themselves to their fate, andwrapping their wet blankets round them sat down, sideby side, wisely to endure the evils that they could notcure.
There is an old rhyme, by whom composed we knownot, and it matters little, which runs thus,--/*"For every evil under the sunThere is a remedy--or there's none.
*//*If there is--try and find it;If there isn't--never mind it!"*/There is deep wisdom here in small compass. Theprinciple involved deserves to be heartily recommended.
Dick never heard of the lines, but he knew the principlewell, so he began to "never mind it" by sitting downbeside his companions and whistling vociferously. Asthe wind rendered this a difficult feat, he took to singinginstead. After that he said, "Let's eat a bite, Joe,and then go to bed.""Be all means," said Joe, who produced a mass ofdried deer's meat from a wallet.
"It's cold grub," said Dick, "and tough."But the hunters' teeth were sharp and strong, so theyate a hearty supper and washed it down with a drinkof rain water collected from a pool on the top of theirhut. They now tried to sleep, for the night was advancing,and it was so dark that they could scarce seetheir hands when held up before their faces. They satback to back, and thus, in the form of a tripod, beganto snooze. Joe's and Henri's seasoned frames wouldhave remained stiff as posts till morning; but Dick'sbody was young and pliant, so he hadn't been asleep afew seconds when he fell forward into the mud andeffectually awakened the others. Joe gave a grunt,and Henri exclaimed, "Hah!" but Dick was too sleepyand miserable to say anything. Crusoe, however, roseup to show his sympathy, and laid his wet head on hismaster's knee as he resumed his place. This catastrophehappened three times in the space of an hour, and bythe third time they were all awakened up so thoroughlythat they gave up the attempt to sleep, and amusedeach other by recounting their hunting experiences andtelling stories. So engrossed did they become that daybroke sooner than they had expected, and just in proportionas the gray light of dawn rose higher into theeastern sky did the spirits of these weary men risewithin their soaking bodies.