CHAPTER XXIII.
A MERRY RIDE — ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL VIEW— AN EXCITING RACE—SEPARATION—THE CONTEST DECIDED—ALARM—THE PRAIRIE ON FIRE — FLIGHT — TERRIBLE CONFLAGRATION— APPALLING STRUGGLE — HORRIBLE SCENE — LIFE AND DEATH.
For an hour or two we spurred on to the eastward, in company, through the tall grass, which brushed our feet at every step, and made our horses labor exceedingly, when we came to one of the small hills or knolls previously mentioned, where we halted to give our panting and foaming steeds a few minutes' rest. This knoll was clustered with beautiful trees, under whose refreshing shade bubbled up a spring of clear, cold water, wherewith we first refreshed ourselves and then our horses. From the brow of this, the view of everything was more delightful than from that of the one we had left behind us. Then we were looking on the prairie only in one or two directions — now we stood above and surveyed it on all sides. To the north of us was a small ridge, in shape resembling an ox-bow, the southern bend of which was about five miles distant. This, after running due north for a considerable distance, appeared to take a zig-zag course and unite with the Black Hills, which, sublime in their grandeur, bounded the view to the west. To the south and east, as far as the eye could penetrate, stretched away and away the beautiful prairie, with nothing to relieve its monotony but an occasional knoll like the one whereon we stood, and which forcibly reminded me of the oases I had seen in the great desert. "O, this is delightful — enchanting!" exclaimed Eva, with a flush of animation. "This is what I love. It expands the soul, and bears one above the groveling thoughts of every day life. Nature!" she added, apostrophizing, "I love thee in thy grandeur and thy simplicity! and know, as I gaze upon thee, that I behold the handi-work of that Great Power above, which regulates alike the mighty systems of ten thousand times ten thousand worlds, and the most trifling event that takes place upon them. All alike move by a universal and immutable law; and each, as it were, complete in itself, is but a minor branch of that great machine which works for one almighty and incomprehensible design. Were I a poet that could pen my thoughts, I would seek such a place as this, and alone, away from the discords of my fellow beings, write such inspiring words, that ages yet to come should read and wonder over my pages, and call them the result of a holy inspiration." "Ay, sister," cried Evaline, "thus have I felt a thousand times; and thus it is it comes so hard for me to part from these enrapturing scenes. Now can you blame me for my regrets?" "No, sweet sister," answered the other, "I do not blame you—far from it. I only feel you are a gem too rare to part with." "And so think we all," I rejoined; "and one of us at least, if I may be permitted the expression, thinks doubly so;" and I glanced at my friend. "Ay, Frank," he answered, "treble that if you like. But come, my friends, the day is advancing — had we not better return? They will look anxiously for us at the fort." "One ride more first," said Eva, quickly. "I cannot bear to quit this scene forever, without one more glorious ride." "Whither shall it be, then?" asked Lilian. "To yonder knoll;" and she pointed away to the eastward. "That is far," rejoined Huntly, "and I fear we shall not get back till night, and the day will be lost." "Lost?" echoed Eva, her eyes sparkling with animation. "Call you such a day as this lost? Come, gentlemen," she added, turning to the rest of us, "you do not think so, I'll wager! On! let us on! I dare you to a race! and my glove to him who first puts foot on yonder hill in advance of me." So saying, she gracefully waved her hand, and tightening her rein, pressed her fiery steed down the declivity and over the prairie at headlong speed. "A race! a race! The glove! the glove!" cried some half a dozen voices, and instantly the whole party was in commotion. Those who chanced to be dismounted, at once sprang to their saddles, and all dashed away after their fair champion, who, sitting erect, with the air of a queen, was now urging her gallant beast to do his utmost. Next behind Eva rode Elmer Fitzgerald, striving hard to evertake her, followed by Lilian, myself, and the rest of the party, some in couples and others alone, each and all contending to be first at the far off goal. I say all, but I must except Charles and Evaline, who brought up the rear at a tardy pace, and seemed rather deliberately following us without excitement and interest, than taking any part in the race. With the balance of us, for the first five minutes, the contest appeared equal — neither gaining ground on the party, nor falling away from the position he had taken at the setting-out. All was life and excitement; and merry shouts and gay jests rang out, as on we pressed our panting steeds through the tall grass, startling thousands of small animals from their quiet retreats, and scaring up flocks of birds, which, as they soared away, twittered their discontent, and looked down upon us with wonder and fear. On, on we rushed, completely lost in the enlivening chase, and heeding nought but the still distant goal we were striving to gain. On, on! still on! with the fire of youthful ambition urging us to renewed exertions. At length the difference in the speed of our horses began to be seen. Eva yet kept her position in advance, but was gradually losing ground before the fleeter steed of Elmer Fitzgerald. Lilian and I, side by side, still managed to hold our own, and were gaining on all the others, who were now strung out in a long single line behind. Half an hour passed, and the change in our previous positions became more distinctly marked. Elmer now rode head-to-head with our fair leader, but both had increased the distance between themselves and us materially. I looked back, and beheld the line stretched out for more than a mile, far beyond which I could dimly discern my friend and Evaline slowly bringing up the rear. Most of the party had by this time despaired of winning the race, had even withdrawn from the contest, and were now following at a leisure pace. A few yet held on, but only for a few minutes, when they took pattern by the others, and we were left masters of the field. For another quarter of an hour we pushed on with vigor, when the panting of our foaming steeds warned us to check them. Elmer and Eva were the first to take this precaution, and on our coming up to them, the latter said: "I suppose as we have distanced all the others, there will not be much strife be tween us. At all events, we must not kill our horses, and they are already pretty well blown. How much was I deceived in the distance! When I proposed this race, I had no idea there were more than five miles between point and point; and yet some eight or ten miles, if I greatly err not in judgment, have been gone over, and yonder hill is still miles ahead." "Distance on level ground, from an elevated point, is always deceiving," I answered. "But come! I do not see the necessity of going farther. Give your companion the glove, for I acknowledge him winner, and let us return." "Pray, take Mr. Leighton's advice, Miss Mortimer!" urged Fitzgerald; "for it is a long distance to where we left our mules, and our horses will suffer enough at the best." "Ay, ay, modest sir!" exclaimed Eva, with a ringing laugh. "I understand. You wish to be acknowledged victor, before you have won. By my faith, sir, I had thought you possessed of more spirit than that. I am willing to return for that matter; but I cannot yield the glove until the conditions on which it was offered are complied with." "Then the glove shall be mine, if I have to make the remainder of the journey alone!" cried Elmer. "Do not flatter yourself, Miss Mortimer, that I have exerted myself thus far for nothing. The prize I must have; I insist upon it; and it remains for you to say —" "Good heavens! what is that?" exclaimed Lilian, interrupting the other, and pointing toward the south. We all turned our eyes in the direction indicated, and beheld, stretching along the horizon, what appeared to be a dense, black, rolling cloud. "A heavy thunder storm is approaching," said Fitzgerald in reply, "and we stand a fair chance of being thoroughly drenched." "I think you are mistaken," rejoined I; "for I have never seen a cloud of such singular appearance. See! how it gradually creeps away to the right and left?" "And there are bright flashes, too!" exclaimed Eva, breathless with intense excitement. "What is it? what is it?" cried Lilian, grasping my arm with a trembling hand, and gazing upon the scene with a pale, terrified look. "It is not a cloud—it cannot be a cloud—it is something more awful. See! see! how fast it spreads! And there! there! mark you those flashes?" Suddenly the whole horribl
e truth flashed upon me, and for the moment held me dumb with terror. "You are pale with alarm!" pursued Lilian, turning to me and noting the agonized expression of my countenance. "Speak, Francis! what is it?" screamed Eva. "Merciful God!" I gasped, "the prairie is on fire! We are lost!—our doom is sealed!" "Lost!" shrieked Lilian and Eva. "Oh, God! is there no escape?" added the latter, wildly. "We must—we must escape!" "Flight — flight alone can save us!" shouted Fitzgerald. "Perchance we may reach yonder hill. It is our only hope." As he spoke, he spurred his steed, struck Eva's with his bridle rein, and away bounded both with all the speed in their power. "Follow!" cried I to Lilian, imitating the example of the other, and in the wild excitement of the moment, completely losing all my wonted presence of mind. "Follow hard — strain every nerve — and God vouchsafe us victory!" It was no longer a race of pleasure, but one of fearful agony—our lives the stake, and heavy odds against us. Can I describe it, reader?—describe our feelings in those awful moments of horrible suspense? No! it is beyond the strength of the pen—the power of language—and must be left to your imagination. Four miles, at the least—four long and seemingly interminable miles — intervene between us and our destination. Can we reach it? We have but little hope. On, on we urge, with whip and spur, our already drooping horses—and on, on comes the mighty destroyer, as if sent to execute the long pent up vengeance of an offended God. Away to the east, and away to the west, and rushing toward the north, with the fury of a devastating tornado, comes this terrific Avenger, sweeping all in his course, making all black and desolate which a few minutes since had seemed so lovely, rolling up to the very dome of Heaven his huge volumes of smoke, of gigantic and hideous shapes, with red sheets of flame issuing from its appalling blackness, as they were the burning tongues and eyes of hell's unchained demons, so shaped by our wild and distorted imaginations. On, on!—how our horses snort, and foam, and tremble! They have caught our fears, and are doing their utmost to save us and themselves. On, on, on!—two miles, thank God! are passed—but, alas! there are two more before us, and our gallant beasts are already beginning to falter with fatigue. On, on!—behold our terrible foe advance! his fiery banners streaming up brighter, redder and more bright as he nears us—his ten thousand scorching and blasting tongues, hissing, roaring and destroying every living thing that comes within their reach. Oh! how sublime—how awfully sublime this spectacle! on which we rivet our fascinated eyes, while our hearts leap to our throats, and our lips are compressed with an indescribable fear. Now listen to those apparently unearthly sounds! The prairie is alive with millions of voices, which fancy would give to the fiery tongues of this rushing Monster, as the cheering song of his death-dealing advance—but which stern reality tells us are the frantic cries of droves and herds of wild animals, of all species, mad with affright, all pressing forward together, pellmell, to escape one common, but ever conquering enemy. Look yonder! There goes a stampede of buffalo. Yonder! Another of wild horses. How they tear ahead, with foaming mouths, expanded nostrils, dilated eyes, and a tread that makes the very earth tremble beneath them! Look closer—nearer! Here—here they come!—above us, before us, behind us, beneath us—on all and every side—birds, beasts, reptiles and insects. How they dart past us now with lolling tongues, and fiery eyes half starting from their sockets, entangling the very legs of our horses, and causing them to rear, and plunge, and snort, and shriek with appalling terror! Here are wolves, and wolverines, and rabbits, and boars, and serpents — each and all howling, shrieking, and hissing their fears. God of heavens! what a scene! On, on, for our only hope! Another mile is passed: oh! that it were another— the last! We near the haven of our safety. Can we—shall we ever reach it? Behold the Destroyer, where he comes! Up, up to the mid heaven now rolls the smoke of his conquest! and the sun grows dark behind it, as he were mourning for the destruction he is forced to look upon. Hark! what sound is that!—that roaring sound! It is the voice of the Fire-Spirit, as he were mocking our hopes. Must we die now, with safety almost within our grasp? Why do our horses stagger and reel? Have they not strength for this last effort! See! we are almost saved. Yon hill looms up invitingly before us. Oh! for strength of another five minute's duration! Five minutes—only five—an eternity to us! Ha! the dense smoke is lowering upon us, and we shall be suffocated! No! that breeze drives it back. All thanks to God for that! There is still hope. On, on! still on! How swift is the flame, and how tardy our horses! They have no spirit, seemingly. They only creep and crawl like snails. My fortune all, to hold out another two minutes. Ha! God help us now! Lilian's steed reels—totters—stumbles — falls! She is down. I hear her shriek for help. How strangely that shriek mingles with the roaring and crackling of this great prairie fire! Now on my feet I seize her hand. Now my horse staggers under a double weight. But he is a gallant beast; and plunging forward, with a dying effort, falls at the base of the knoll, which Elmer and Eva had gained in advance of us. One desperate effort more, and Lilian, all unconscious of fear and danger, is borne in my arms into a dense thicket, where I sink upon the earth, and, half stifled with smoke, amid the roaring of a mighty conflagration, thank God its flames can neither reach me nor the being I love.
Bennett, Emerson - Prairie Flower 02 Page 18
