and when we were about to start again, we found that he had lain down and was unable to rise. We saw that we must leave him; and, taking such harness as we could find, we put the horse in his place, and moved onward. We were in hopes of finding another little garden of cactus plants; but none appeared, and we toiled on, suffering as before.
“When we had got within about five miles of the mountain-foot, the other ox broke down, and fell – as we supposed – dead. We could take the wagon no farther; but it was no time either to hesitate or halt: we must try it afoot, or perish where we were.
“I loosed out the horse, and left him to his will – I saw he was no longer able to carry any of us. I took an axe from the wagon – also a tin-pot, and a piece of dry beef that still remained to us. Cudjo shouldered the axe and little Mary; I carried the beef, the pot, Luisa, and my rifle; while my wife, Frank, and Harry, each held something in their hands. Thus burdened, we bade adieu to the wagon, and struck off toward the mountain. The dogs followed; and the poor horse, not willing to be left behind, came tottering after.
“There is not much more of that journey to be detailed. We toiled through the five miles the best way we could. As we drew nearer to the mountain, we could see deep dark ravines running down its sides, and in the bottom of one we distinguished a silvery thread, which we knew was the foam of water as it dashed over the rocks. The sight gave us new energy, and in another hour we had reached the banks of a crystal stream, and were offering thanks for our deliverance.”
Chapter Ten.
Adventure with an Armadillo
“Well, my friends, we had arrived on the banks of a rivulet, and were thanking God for bringing us safely there. We soon satisfied our thirst, as you may believe, and began to look around us. The stream we had reached was not that which runs into the valley here, but altogether on the other side of the mountain. It was but a mere rill, and I saw that several similar ones issued from the ravines, and after running a short distance into the plain, fell off toward the south-east, and united with others running from that side. I found afterwards that they all joined into the same channel, forming a considerable river, which runs from this elevated plain in an easterly direction; and which I take to be a head-water of the Great Red River of Louisiana, or perhaps of the Brazos, or Colorado, of Texas. I have called it a considerable river. That is not quite correct; for although, where they all unite, they form a good-sized body of water, yet twenty miles farther down, for three-fourths of the year the channel is perfectly dry; and that is the case I know not how far beyond. The water, which passes from the mountain at all times, is either evaporated by the hot sun, or sinks into the sands of its own bed, during a run of twenty miles. It is only in times of great rain – a rare occurrence here – or when very hot weather melts an unusual quantity of the snow, that there is water enough to carry the stream over a flat sandy tract which stretches away to the eastward. All these things I found out afterwards, and as you, my friends, know them to be common phenomena of the Desert, I shall not now dwell upon them.
“I saw that, where we were, there was but little chance of getting anything to eat. The sides of the mountain were rugged and grim, with here and there a stunted cedar hanging from the rocks. The small patches of grass and willows that lined the banks of the little rills – although cheering to the eye, when compared with the brown barrenness of the Desert – offered but little prospect that we should get any thing to eat there. If the Desert stretched away to the south of the mountain, as we saw that it did to the north, east, and west, then we had only reached a temporary resting-place, and we might still perish, if not from thirst, from what was equally bad – hunger.
“This was uppermost in our thoughts at the time, – for we had not eaten a morsel during that day; so we turned our attention to the piece of dried meat.
“‘Let us cook it, and make a soup,’ said Mary; ‘that will be better for the children.’ My poor wife! I saw that the extreme fatigue she had undergone had exhausted her strength, yet still she endeavoured to be cheerful.
“‘Yes, papa, let us make soup; soup is very nice,’ added Frank, trying to cheer his mother by showing that he was not dismayed.
“‘Very well, then,’ I replied. ‘Come, Cudjo, shoulder your axe, and let us to the mountain for wood. Yonder are some pine-trees near the foot, – they will make an excellent fire.’
“So Cudjo and I started for the wood, which was growing about three hundred yards distant, and close in to the rocks where the stream came down.
“As we drew nearer to the trees, I saw that they were not pine-trees, but very different indeed. Both trunks and branches had long thorny spikes upon them like porcupine’s quills, and the leaves were of a bright shining green, pinnate with small oval leaflets. But what was most singular was the long bean-shaped pods that hung down thickly from the branches. These were about an inch and a half in breadth, and some of them not less than twelve inches in length. They were of a reddish-brown, nearly a claret colour. Except in the colour, they looked exactly like large bean-pods filled with beans.
“I was not ignorant of what species of tree was before us. I had seen it before. I knew it was the honey-locust, or thorny acacia, – the carob-tree of the East, and the famed ‘algarobo’ of the Spaniards.
“I was not ignorant of its uses neither, – for I knew this to be the tree upon which (as many suppose) Saint John the Baptist sustained himself in the Desert, where it is said, ‘his meat was locusts and wild honey.’ Hence it is sometimes called, ‘Saint John’s bread.’ Neither was Cudjo ignorant of its value. The moment his eyes rested upon the long brown legumes, he cried out, with gestures of delight: —
“‘Massa – Massa Roff, lookee yonder! – beans and honey for supper!’
“We were soon under the branches: and while I proceeded to knock down and collect a quantity of the ripe fruit. Cudjo went farther up among the rocks, to procure his firewood from the pines that grew there.
“I soon filled my handkerchief, and was waiting for Cudjo, when I heard him shout, —
“‘Massa Roff! come dis away, and see de varmint – what him be.’
“I immediately ran up among the rocks. On reaching the spot where Cudjo was, I found him bending over a crevice or hole in the ground, from which protruded an object very much like the tail of a pig.
“‘What is it, Cudjo?’ I asked.
“‘Don’t know, Massa. Varmint I never see in Vaginny – looks someting like de ole ’possum.’
“‘Catch hold of the tail, and pull him out,’ said I.
“‘Lor! Massa Roff, I’ve tried ma best, but can’t fetch ’im no how. Look yar!’ And so saying, my companion seized the tail, and pulled – seemingly with all his might – but to no purpose.
“‘Did you see the animal when it was outside?’ I inquired.
“‘Yes, Massa; see ’im and chase ’im ’till I tree him yar in dis cave.’
“‘What was it like?’
“‘Berry like a pig – maybe more belike ole ’possum, but cubberd all ober wi’ shell like a Vaginny turtle.’
“‘Oh! then – it is an armadillo.’
“‘An amadiller! Cudjo niver hear o’ dat varmint afore.’
“I saw that the animal which had so astonished my companion was one of those curious living things – which Nature, in giving variety to her creatures,
