CHAPTER XXIV.
THE MEETING — ALARM FOR OUR FRIENDS — A SCENE OF DESOLATION — TERRIBLE SUSPENSE— REGRETS — PROSIONERS FOR A DAY— A NIGHT OF HORROR—A GOLDEN MORN— OUR STEPS RETRACED—HIDEOUS SPECTACLES— OUR WORST FEARS SEEMINGLY CONFIRMED — JOY AT LAST.
No tongue can portray my feelings, my deep emotions of gratitude to the All-wise Preserver, as, with the still unconscious Lilian reposing in my arms, I remained motionless a minute, enveloped in a pall of smoky darkness, listening to the roar of the awful flames, that surged around and onward, scorching the green leaves and grass within a few feet, but leaving me unharmed. Once, for a moment, when the smoke settled in so thick that day became night, and the air too much heated for respiration, I fancied we might die of suffocation. But it was only for a moment. A draught of wind revived me, and lifted the smoke, which rolled away in mighty masses after its master spirit, the devouring element; while day-light again streaming in through the interwoven branches of this beautiful retreat, made my heart bound with rapture at our safe deliverance. Lilian now opened her eyes, and for an instant gazed upon me with a bewildered expression. I strained her to my heart, pressed my lips to hers, and whispered: "We are saved, dearest." "Saved?" she echoed: "Saved? Then it was not a horrible dream, but a frightfully-hideous reality, at the thought of which the soul sickens and grows faint?" "All that language has power to depict of the awful, it was, and ten times more." "Lilian! Francis!" now called the voice of Eva; and springing through the bushes, accompanied by Elmer, she rushed up to the former, threw her arms around her neck, and each wept tears of joy in the other's embrace. "But Evaline and Charles — what of them?" cried Eva, looking up, pale with alarm. "Gracious God!" shouted I, "what of them indeed!" for in the frantic bewilderment of the last few minutes, all thought of everything but escape from death, had been driven from my mind. "Perchance they have perished! Great God! what a thought! To the brow of the hill let us speed at once!" As I spoke, we all rushed up the acclivity, and soon gained a point whence we could gaze upon the desolated scene. What a fearful change a few minutes had wrought! Where, a short time since, all was life and beauty—the tall grass softly undulating to the light-winged zephyr— we now beheld only a black, smoking, dismal waste, without a sign of living thing so relieve its gloom. The fire had passed us entirely; but away to the east, to the north, and the west, spread a dense cloud of rolling smoke, amid which we could perceive the lurid flashes of the death-dealing victor, as on, on he sped, seeking new victims to feed his insatiable maw. Here and there, in every direction on his smoking trail, were strewn the blackened carcasses of such animals as had been overtaken in their flight. At the foot of the hill whereon we stood, in the exact spot where he had fallen, lay the remains of the gallant beast which had borne me through so many perils, and which, at the very last, had saved my life at the expense of his own. A few rods farther on was the one Lilian had ridden, now an ungainly mass of charred flesh. Altogether, it was an appalling scene of desolation, that made the heart sick to look upon. All these things I took in at a glance, but without dwelling upon them for a moment. One wild, maddening thought alone occupied my brain. My friend and Evaline— were they lost or saved? What a torturing uncertainty, where nothing could be known! I strained my eyes, and vainly strove to penetrate the sable vail which curtained the view to the west. All there was wrapped in the frightful gloom of impenetrable darkness. Perchance they might be living, but even now in the agonies of a most terrible death! — and I groaned, and shuddered, and felt my brain grow dizzy and my heart sicken at the bare possibility. For some minutes we all stood and stared as if rooted to the spot, pale and speechless with the agony of suspense. At length the smoke began to clear away between us and the point from whence we had set out for the race. Alas! it brought no hope, but rather despair. All, as elsewhere, was black and lifeless, and we felt our doubts removed by the worst of certainties. "Oh, fatal day!" cried Eva, wringing her hands; "and most fatal adventure! Oh, God! my sister and friend lost! and all through my rashness. Strong-headed and giddy, I would not heed his foreboding counsels, but madly rushed away, dragging him to his own death. May God in his mercy forgive me! for I can never forgive myself. Never—no, never—shall I be happy again." "Nay, dearest Eva," said Lilian, consolingly, twining her arms around the other's neck; "Nay, my dear sister—for a sister to me you seem—do not reproach yourself thus! You were to blame in this no more than I, or the rest. You knew not, dreamed not, there was danger—neither did any of us — and the forebodings of Charles were merely vague fancies without even a foundation. Had he warned us of certain danger known to himself, then we might have been considered rash in disregarding his counsel. As it is, I feel we have been only the blind instruments in the hands of the Almighty, for working out one of his mysterious designs. But do not let us despair. I still have hope that Charles and Evaline are safe. They were far behind us, and it is possible may have turned back and gained yonder hill in safety." "God send it be so!" ejaculated I— "though I have my fears. But, Eva," I added, "I insist you do not blame yourself. If any one is to blame, it is I." "You, Francis? But you merely say this to console me." "Nay, I will prove it. But for my plan, we had all ere this been far on our way to Fort Laramie. It was I proposed to Evaline we should leave her alone with her friends, and designated the spot whither we would ride and await her. It was I that made light of the presentiment of Huntly, and scoffed at his idea of danger. So blame not yourself Eva! Heaven knows, the blow falls heavy enough upon us all, without the additional weight of either one thinking it the result of his or her individual misdoing." "Ay," rejoined Elmer, "so think I. If one is to blame, all are—but in my opinion, none are at fault; and certainly not you, Miss Mortimer." But I will not follow in detail our gloomy conversation, nor longer dwell upon our feelings. Suffice, that for something like an hour, we stood watching the fire, as on it rushed, away and away to the dim distance, until it became lost to our vision, leaving behind it the most dismal scene I had ever beheld. Another hour passed, and still we stood in the self-same spot, uncertain what course to pursue. We had eagerly scanned every object, and strained our eyes in every direction, in the hope of being rejoiced by the sight of one living thing. But the hope proved fallacious. All was silent, and black, and motionless, on this great field of death and desolation. But what should be done, was now the all important qu estion. The earth was still smoking with heat, and the sun, in mid-heaven, pouring down his scorching rays, with scarcely a reviving breath of air; so that we could not venture from our shady retreat with any safety. Besides, but two of our horses had been spared, and these were so exhausted as to be of no service to us for the day at least. How long the earth would remain heated, we could not tell; but in all probability till the day should become too far advanced for us to gain another safe point ere nightfall—in which event, we would again be in imminent danger from the ravenous beasts, that would come with the darkness to prey upon the half-burnt carcasses of their fellows. In view of all this, there appeared no alternative but to remain where we were over night, and make the best of the circumstances we could not alter. This, after the proposal, discussion and final rejection of several plans, was at last reluctantly consented to, when Elmer and myself immediately set about constructing a rude lodge for Lilian and Eva, who, to their praise be it said, bore their misfortunes with a firm, patient and heroic resignation, that would have won our admiration, even had we, in every other respect, been wholly indifferent to their many noble charms. Our present asylum was a beautiful and romantic spot, of some half a dozen acres in extent, watered by a fine spring, shaded with trees, and carpeted with a velvet-like sward of sweet, green grass, interspersed with white, red, purple, yellow and gold colored flowers. In short, it seemed & Garden of Eden on an arid waste; and had our friends been with us, or even had we been assured of their safety, we could have spent the night here with pleasure. With our hunting-knives we cut several withes, and bending over a few saplings, bound them together so as
to form a regular arbor, which we roofed with bushes, leaves and turf, sufficiently to keep off the dew at least. With our rifles, which we fortunately had with us, we next ransacked the bushes, and were successful in scaring up and shooting some two or three hares, which we dressed and cooked, and found very palatable—the more so, perhaps, that we had eaten nothing since morning—our provisions for the journey having been left with our mules. During the day we saw nothing of our companions, and as night slowly shut in the scene, we gradually began to lose the faint hope that had thus far been our consolation. True, if saved, the same cause which prevented us, might also them, from venturing forth upon what seemed almost certain destruction. But there was no certainty—no, scarcely a possibility—they had escaped, and this torturing thought, added to our lonely situation and the surrounding gloom, made us wretched with despair. Oh! what an awful night was this we passed in the wilderness! One which, were we to live a thousand years, would ever be a yesterday to us, so deeply and painfully was it engraven upon the outer tablets of our memories. To add gloom, as it were, to accumulated horrors, a dark, angry cloud began to spread along the western horizon, from which shot vivid flashes of lightning, followed by the booming roar of heavy thunder, as if the spirits of the air, bent on making "assurance doubly sure," were now marshaling their grand reserve-forces to triumph over a vanquished foe. On, on came the Storm-King, flinging out his black banners in advance, and vailing the light of Heaven's starry host, as if unwilling one single thing should be left undone to make his triumph most dismally, impressively terrible. On, on he came, amid the almost incessant flashes and thunders of his mighty artillery! Huddled together in our rude arbor, before which blazed a lurid, flickering flame, that gave our pale features an unearthly appearance, and made our grim shadows dance fantastically behind us, like dark spirits in a hellish revel, we sat and gazed upon vacancy, silent with emotions too deep for utterance. Now the storm was at its hight. Sheet upon sheet of the hot lightning, flashing in our faces, blinded our eyes; peal upon peal of crashing thunder, shaking the earth beneath, almost deafened us with its roar; while the rain, pouring down in torrents, thoroughly drenched and stiffened our cramped up bodies and limbs. For two hours thus we remained in breathless awe, motionless and silent, ere the storm abated its fury; and then only, as it were, that we might hear the howlings of surrounding wolves, which, to our distorted fancies, seemed the loud wailings of the damned over the final wreck of Nature. Serenely the morning broke upon the night, and the sun again rose as bright and golden as if nothing had happened. Never was a day hailed with more joy. With the first streak of light, we caught our two overridden horses, and found, to our great delight, that they were still capable of performing a heavy task. Mounting two on each, we set out over the blackened plain to retrace our steps, and, if possible, gain some tidings of our friends. For an hour or more we saw nothing to attract particular attention, when suddenly Eva uttered a fearful shriek, and pointing to an object before us, cried: "My God! look on that!" We did look, with dilated eyes, and felt our blood freeze with horror. It was the blackened and mangled corse of a human being — probably the remains of one of our companions of the previous day. A few feet from it lay the half-eaten carcass of a horse, too fatally confirming our suspicions. Elmer and I dismounted and examined the body of the unfortunate young man; but all trace by which we might identify it was lost; and with a sicken shudder and trembling steps we passed on, with such feelings as none can ever more than faintly imagine. About a mile from this, we came upon the carcass of a horse, beside which lay the stirrups of a saddle, several scraps of burnt leather, and, oh God! another human body! "Another victim!" groaned Fitzgerald, covering his eyes to shut out the hideous spectacle. "Who next?" "Great God!" gasped I, "should the next be Charles and Evaline! But come, Fitzgerald! this is a trial unfitted for ladies. See! both Lilian and Eva seem ready to fall from their horses! Let us mount and away, and take them from this awful scene. If we gain no tidings of our friends when we reach the Wahsochees, we will at least get some of them to assist us in the painful task of searching for their remains." Shaping our course more to the right, we rode away over the plain, fearful to look beneath our feet, lest our eyes might chance upon another revolting spectacle. In the course of a couple of hours, we had passed the first hill, leaving it away to our left, and were fast nearing the second, the point from whence we had first viewed the beautiful prairie, in all the enchantment of its loveliness only the morning previous, and which we had fixed on for our rendezvous, in case we became separated, little dreaming, in our merry thoughtlessness, of the mighty calamity hanging over us, and that grim Death was even then invisibly stalking in our midst to select his victims. Suddenly Lilian exclaimed: "God be thanked! they live!" and overcome with joyful emotions, she could only point her finger and faintly add: "See! see!" "Ay, thank God!' cried I, "they are saved!" and I pointed to Charles and Evaline, whom we now descried rushing down the hill before us, followed by some fifteen or twenty of the Mysterious Tribe. Five minutes later, we stood clasping each other, weeping and speechless with joy.
Bennett, Emerson - Prairie Flower 02 Page 19
