Chapter 3 - The Adventures of a Lost Family in the Wilderness by Mayne Reid
The Valley Oasis
After so long and terrible a journey, of course, we all stood in need of rest and refreshment. We made up our minds to stay by the stream all night, and perhaps for a day or two. The fringe of willows extended on both sides of it for a distance of fifty yards into the plain; and among these, growing under their shade, there were patches of grass—that species known in Mexico as the gramma grass. It is a rich, nutritious herbage; and horses and cattle—as well as the buffaloes and other wild animals—are very fond of it. Our mules and horses gave proof of this; for, as soon as they had satisfied themselves with the water, they attacked it with open mouths, and eyes sparkling with delight. We relieved them of their packs and saddles: and then, having picketed them, left them to eat to their hearts’ content.
We now set about looking after something for our own supper. We had not yet suffered much from hunger, as we had occasionally chewed pieces of our dried meat while crossing the plain. But we had eaten it quite raw; and tasajo—for that is its name—is no great eating, either raw or roasted. We had been living upon it for more than a week, and we longed for something fresh. During all the route from El Paso we had fallen in with no game, except some half-dozen lean antelopes, only one of which we had succeeded in shooting.
While we were picketing our animals, and getting ready to cook our supper of coffee and tasajo, one of the hunters—a tireless fellow named Lincoln—had stolen off up the ravine. Presently we heard the sharp crack of his rifle ringing through the defile; and, looking up, we saw a flock of “bighorns”—so the wild sheep of the Rocky Mountains are called—leaping from rock to rock, and almost flying like birds up the face of the cliffs. It was not long before Lincoln made his appearance at the mouth of the defile, carrying a large body upon his shoulders—which we knew, by the huge crescent-shaped horns, had once been a member of the flock we had seen escaping. It proved to be as fat as a buck; and the knives of the skilful hunters were not long in skinning and dissecting it. Meanwhile, a couple of axes had been grappled by stout hands; a cotton-wood tree name crashing down after a few sharp blows; and, having been cut into “logs,” was soon crackling under the red blaze. Over this, the ribs and steaks of the bighorn soon sputtered, and the coffee-kettle steamed, simmered, and bubbled, with its brown and aromatic contents. Our supper over, one and all of us rolled ourselves in our blankets, and were soon forgetful of the perils through which we had passed.
Next morning we arose refreshed, and after breakfast a consultation was held as to what course we should now take. We would have followed the stream, but it appeared to run in a southerly direction, and that would not do for us. We wanted to go eastward. While we were deliberating upon this, an exclamation from the hunter Lincoln drew our attention. He was standing in the open ground, at some distance out from the willows, and pointing southward. We all looked in that direction, and, to our great surprise, beheld a pillar of blue smoke curling up into the sky, and seeming to rise out of the plain!
“It must be Indians!” cried one.
“I noticed an odd-looking hole in the prairie down there,” said Lincoln; “I noticed it last night, when I was up after the bighorn. The smoke we see comes out of it; and where there’s smoke there must be a fire, they say—there’s somebody about that fire, be they Injuns or whites.”
“Indians, of course,” rejoined several; “who else would be found within hundreds of miles of such a place as this? Indians, they must be.”
A brief consultation was held among us, as to what was best to be done. Our fire was at once “choked out,” and our mules and horses brought into the cover of the willow thicket. Some proposed that a small party of us should go down the stream and reconnoitre; while others advised that we should climb the mountain, from which we might get a view of the strange place whence the smoke seemed to proceed. This was plainly the best course to adopt—as, in case it should fail to satisfy us, we could still follow the other plan. Half-a-dozen of us, therefore, leaving the others to guard the camp, immediately set out to ascend the mountain.
We climbed up the ravine, occasionally stopping to look out over the plain. We climbed until we had reached a considerable elevation. At length we caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a deep barranca,—into which ran the stream—but we could distinguish nothing within it at so great a distance. We could see the plain stretching away beyond, naked and sterile. On one side only, and that towards the east, there was a belt of verdure, with here and there a solitary tree, or at most two or three growing together, stunted-like and shrubby. Running in the centre of this belt, we could distinguish a line or crack in the plain. This was, no doubt, a channel by which the stream escaped from the barranca. As nothing farther could be gained by remaining upon the mountain, we descended, and joined our companions at the camp.
It was now agreed that a select party should follow the stream, until we had approached the edge of this strange valley, and reconnoitred it with caution. Six of us again started, leaving our horses as before. We stole silently along, keeping among the willows, and as near as possible to the banks of the rivulet. In this way we travelled about a mile and a half. We saw then that we were near to the end of the barranca. We could hear a noise like the sound of a waterfall. We guessed that it must be a cataract formed by the stream, where it leaped into the strange ravine that already began to expand before our faces. We were right in our conjectures, for the next moment we crept out upon the edge of a fearful cliff, where the water of the rivulet swept over, and fell through a height of several hundred feet.
It was a beautiful sight to look upon, as the long jet, curving like the tail of a horse, plunged into the foaming pool below; and then rising with its millions of globules of snowy spray, glittered under the sunbeam with all the colours of the rainbow. It was, indeed, a beautiful sight; but our eyes did not dwell long upon it, for other objects were before them that filled us with wonder. Away below—far below where we were—lay a lovely valley, smiling in all the luxuriance of bright vegetation. It was of nearly an oval shape, bounded upon all sides by a frowning precipice, that rose around it like a wall. Its length could not have been less than ten miles, and its greatest breadth about half of its length. We were at its upper end, and of course viewed it lengthwise. Along the face of the precipice there were trees hanging out horizontally, and some of them even growing with their tops downward. These trees were cedars and pines; and we could perceive also the knotted limbs of huge cacti protruding from the crevices of the rocks. We could see the mezcal, or wild maguey plant, growing against the cliff—its scarlet leaves contrasting finely with the dark foliage of the cedars and cacti. Some of these plants stood out on the very brow of the overhanging precipice, and their long curving blades gave a singular character to the landscape. Along the face of the dark cliffs all was rough, and gloomy, and picturesque. How different was the scene below! Here everything looked soft, and smiling, and beautiful. There were broad stretches of woodland, where the thick foliage of the trees met and clustered together, so that it looked like the surface of the earth itself; but we knew it was only the green leaves, for here and there were spots of brighter green, that we saw were glades covered with grassy turf. The leaves of the trees were of different colours, for it was now late in the autumn. Some were yellow, and some of a deep claret colour. Some were bright red, and some of a beautiful maroon; and there were green, and brighter green, and others of a silvery, whitish hue. All these colours were mingled together, and blended into each other, like the flowers upon a rich carpet.
Near the centre of the valley was a large shining object, which we knew to be water. It was evidently a lake of crystal purity, and smooth as a mirror. The sun was now up to meridian height, and his yellow beams falling upon its surface caused it to gleam like a sheet of gold. We could not trace the outlines of the water—for the trees partially hid it from our view—but we saw that the smoke that had at first attracted us rose up somewhere from the western shore of the lake.
We returned to the camp, where we had left our companions. It was now agreed that we should all ride down the side of the barranca together, until we could find a place to descend into it. It was evident some such place existed, else, how could they have got in who had kindled the fire there?
We left the Mexicans in camp with our mules, and all the rest of us having mounted our horses, rode off together. We went by the eastern side, keeping well back upon the plain, so that we might not be seen until we discovered what sort of people were in the valley. When we had got opposite to where the smoke was still curling up, we stopped; and two of us, dismounting, crawled forward to the very edge of the precipice. We took care to keep some bushes, that grew along the brink, between ourselves and the lake. At length we were able to get a good view of everything below; and a very strange sight that was,—at least it was very strange in such a place, where it was so little expected. There was a large lake—as I have already stated—and on its opposite side, not over a hundred yards from its shore, was a fine-looking log-house, with other smaller ones standing in the rear. There were rail-fences around them, and a cleared space divided into fields, some of which appeared to be under cultivation, while others were green and filled with flocks of animals. The whole picture was exactly like a snug farm-house, with its stables and other outhouses, with its garden and fields, and horses and cattle! The distance was too great for us to distinguish what sort of cattle they were, but there appeared to be many kinds, both red, and black, and speckled. We could see several figures of men and boys—four of them in all—moving about the enclosures, and there was a woman near the door of the house. It was impossible in the distance to tell whether they were white people, but we never imagined for a moment they could be Indians. No Indian could have built such a house. Of course we were filled with astonishment at finding such a picture in so unexpected a place; and a beautiful picture it was to our eyes, fresh as we were from looking upon the barren desert. The lake was smooth as a mirror; the sun was shining upon it, and we could see upon its farther shore several large animals standing up to their knee in the water.
There were many other striking objects which met our eyes, but we had no time to dwell upon them, and we crawled back again to our companions.
It was at once agreed that we should go still farther down, and endeavour to find a road leading into this most singular oasis. We thought we could distinguish a sort of depression in the plain near the lower end of the valley, and for this point we directed our course. After riding a few miles farther we reached the place where the stream issued out in an easterly direction. There sure enough, was the very road we were in search of, winding down along the bank of the stream, and as if carved out from the face of the precipice. It was not much wider than the track of a wagon, but was of very easy descent. We did not hesitate a moment, but commenced riding downward.