Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone Read online

chagrin at having beenundeceived, and "choused" out of his shot.

  I afterwards heard that he was only trying to frighten me. If so, theexperiment proved entirely successful.

  After reaching the post we were to occupy, I was not so well satisfiedwith my situation, as when on the march.

  The discipline became more strict, and we had a good deal offatigue-work to do--in building huts, stables, and fortifications.

  Besides this unsoldierly duty by day, we had at night to take our turnas sentinels around the station.

  Emigrants on the way to California passed us daily. How I envied themtheir freedom of action, and the bright hopes that were luring them on!

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------

  One morning, "Runaway Dick" was not to be found. He had run away oncemore. It was not difficult to divine whither--to California.

  In this, his latest flight, he appeared to give some proof that he hadstill a little honesty left: for he did not take along with him eitherhis horse, or his rifle.

  I overheard some of the officers speaking of him after he was gone, oneof them pronounced him "a damned fool" for not taking the horse--sonecessary to him upon the long journey he would have to perform, beforereaching his destination.

  On hearing this remark, I registered a resolve, that, when my turn cameto desert, they should not have occasion to apply the epithet to me, atall events, not for the same reason that Runaway Dick had deserved it.

  Whether Dick's example had any influence on me, I do not now remember.I only know that I soon after determined to desert, and take my horsewith me.

  I had served the Government of the United States once before; and didnot think myself any too well rewarded for my services. I mightprobably have believed that "Uncle Sam" was indebted to me; and that bydismissing myself from his employ, and taking with me some of hisproperty, it would be only squaring accounts with him; but I did notthen take the trouble to trifle with my conscience--as I do not now--tojustify my conduct by any such excuse. To carry off the horse would bestealing; but I required the animal for the journey; and I did not liketo leave my officers under the impression that I was a "damned fool."

  "Every one who robs a government is not called a thief," thought I, "andwhy should I win that appellation when only trying to win Lenore?"

  I could not afford to squander the best part of my life in awilderness--standing sentry all the night, and working on fortificationsall the day.

  It was absurd for any one to have enlisted an intelligent-looking youngfellow like myself, for any such occupation. Was I not expected to takeFrench leave on the first favourable opportunity? And would I not bethought a "fool" for not doing so?

  These considerations did not influence me much, I admit, for the truecause of my desertion, was the knowledge that neither my relatives norLenore would ever be encountered in the middle of the great Americanprairie, and that to find either I must "move on."

  One night I was dispatched on patrol duty, to a place some two milesdistant from the fort. The sky was dark at the time; but I knew themoon would be shining brightly in an hour.

  A better opportunity would perhaps never occur again; and I resolved totake advantage of it and desert.

  By going through the wilderness alone, I knew that I should have manydangers and hardships to encounter; but the curiosity, of learning howthese were to be overcome, only added to my desire for entering uponthem.

  My patrol duty led me along the trail of the emigrants proceedingwestward; and even in the darkness, I was able to follow it withoutdifficulty, riding most of the way at a trot. When the moon rose, Iincreased my pace to a gallop, and scarce halted until daybreak, when,perceiving a small stream that ran through the bottom of a narrowvalley, I rode toward it. There dismounting, I gave my horse to thegrass--which was growing so luxuriantly as to reach up to his knees.

  The horse was more fortunate than I: for the long night's ride had givenme an appetite, which I had no means of satisfying. I was hungry andhappy--happy, because I was free; and hungry for the same reason! Aparadox, though a truth.

  There were birds warbling among the trees by the side of the stream. Icould have shot some of them with my rifle, or revolver, and cooked themover a fire--for I had the means of making one. But I was not hungryenough to risk the report of a shot being heard; and after tethering myhorse, to make secure against _his deserting me_, I lay down upon thelong grass and fell fast asleep.

  I dreamt no end of dreams, though they might all have been reduced toone; and that was: that the world was my inheritance, and I was on myway to take possession of it.

  When I awoke, the sun was in the centre of the sky. My horse hadsatisfied his hunger; and, following the example of his master, had laiddown to sleep.

  I did not hesitate to disturb his repose; and, having saddled andremounted him, I once more took to the emigrant trail, and continued ontowards fortune and Lenore!

  Volume One, Chapter XVIII.

  OLD JOHNSON.

  I travelled along the trail all that afternoon and evening, until, justas twilight was darkening into night, I came in sight of somecamp-fires. On seeing them, I paused to consider what was best to bedone.

  To halt at the camp--if, as I supposed, it was a party of emigrants--might lead to my being taken, in case of being pursued from the fort,for my dress, the U.S. brand on the horse, and the military saddle, allproved them the property of "Uncle Sam."

  This determined me to avoid showing myself--until I should have put agreater distance between myself and the fort.

  I dismounted on the spot where I had halted, tethered my horse, andtried to take some rest. I soon found that I could not sleep: hungerwould not admit of it.

  Within sight of me were the camp-fires, surrounded by people, who wouldprobably have relieved my wants; and yet I feared to go near them.

  Conscience, or common sense, told me, that emigrants in a wildernessmight not look very favourably upon one, employed to protect them,deserting from his duty, and taking property along with him--of whichevery citizen of the United States believes himself to be the owner of ashare. They might not actually repel me. In all probability they wouldgive me something to eat; but they might also give informationconcerning me--should I be pursued--that would enable my pursuers tomake a prisoner of me.

  Before daybreak I awoke, having enjoyed a brief slumber; and, silentlymounting my horse, I rode beyond the emigrants' camp--deviating widelyfrom the trail to get around them.

  I soon recovered the track; and pursued it as fast as my steed waswilling to carry me. When, looking out for a place where water could beobtained--with the intention of stopping awhile and killing some bird oranimal for food--I came in sight of another party of emigrants, who werejust taking their departure from the spot where they had encamped forthe night.

  I had put one train of these travellers between me and the fort; and nowfancied myself tolerably safe from pursuit. Riding boldly up to thewaggons, I told the first man I encountered, and in very plain termsthat I must have something to eat.

  "Now, I like that way of talking," said he. "Had you asked forsomething in the humble manner many would have done, perhaps you wouldnot have got it. People don't like to carry victuals five hundredmiles, to give away for nothing; but when you say you _must_ havesomething to eat, then, of course, I can do nothing but give it to you.Sally!" he continued, calling out to a young woman who stood by one ofthe waggons, "get this stranger something to eat."

  Looking around me, I saw a number of people--men, women, and children ofevery age. There appeared to be three families forming the "caravan" nodoubt emigrating together, for the purpose of mutual protection andassistance. There were five or six young men--who appeared to be thesons of the elder ones--and a like number of young women, who wereevidently the daughters of three others of middle age, while a largeflock of miscellaneous children, a small flock of sheep, a smallernumber of cattle, several horses, and half-a-dozen
half-famished dogscompleted the live-stock of the train.

  "I guess you're a deserter?" said the man, to whom I had first addressedmyself, after he had finished his survey of myself and horse.

  "No," I answered. "I'm on my route to Fort Wool. I have lost my way,and gone without eating for two days."

  "Now, I like that way of talking," responded the emigrant, who appearedto be the head man of the party. "When a man tells me a story, I likeit to be a good one, and well told--whether I believe it, or not."

  "What reason have you to disbelieve me?" I asked, pretending to beoffended at having my word doubted.

  "Because I think, from your looks, that you are not a damned fool,"answered the man, "and no other but a fool would think of staying in amilitary fort, in this part of the world, any longer than he had achance to get away from it."

  I immediately formed the opinion, that the person