The Desert Home: The Adventures of a Lost Family in the Wilderness Read online

  CHAPTER TWO.

  THE WHITE PEAK.

  Some years ago, I was one of a party of "prairie merchants," who crossedwith a caravan from Saint Louis on the Mississippi, to Santa Fe in NewMexico. We followed the usual "Santa Fe trail." Not disposing of allour goods in New Mexico, we kept on to the great town of Chihuahua,which lies farther to the south. There we settled our business, andwere about to return to the United States the way we had come, when itwas proposed (as we had now nothing to encumber us but our bags ofmoney), that we should explore a new "trail" across the prairies. Weall wished to find a better route than the Santa Fe road; and weexpected that such an one lay between the town of El Paso--on the DelNorte River--and some point on the frontiers of Arkansas.

  On arriving at El Paso, we sold our wagons, and purchased Mexicanpack-mules--engaging, at the same time, a number of "arrieros," ormuleteers to manage them. We also purchased saddle-horses--the smalltight horses of New Mexico, which are excellent for journeying in theDesert. We provided ourselves, moreover, with such articles of clothingand provisions as we might require upon our unknown route. Having goteverything ready for the journey, we bade adieu to El Paso, and turnedour faces eastward. There were in all twelve of us--traders, and anumber of hunters, who had agreed to accompany us across the plains.There was a miner, too, who belonged to a copper mine near El Paso.There were also four Mexicans--the "arrieros" who had charge of ourlittle train of pack-mules. Of coarse, we were all well armed, andmounted upon the best horses we could procure for money.

  We had first to cross over the Rocky Mountains, which run north andsouth through all the country. That chain of them which lies eastwardof El Paso is called the Sierra de Organos, or "Organ mountains." Theyare so called from the fancied resemblance which is seen in one of theircliffs to the tubes of an organ. These cliffs are of trap rock, which,as you are aware, often presents very fantastic and singular formations,by means of its peculiar stratification. But there is a still morecurious feature about these Organ mountains. On the top of one of themis a lake, which has its tides that ebb and flow like the tides of theocean! No one has yet accounted for this remarkable phenomenon, and itremains a puzzle to the geological inquirer. This lake is a favouriteresort for the wild animals of the country, and deer and elk are foundin great numbers around its shores. They are not even molested by theMexican hunters of these parts, who seem to have a superstitious fear ofthe spirits of the Organ mountains, and rarely climb up their steepsides.

  Our party found an easy pass through the range, which brought us outinto an open country on the other side. After travelling several daysthrough the eastern spurs of the Rocky Mountains, known as the SierrasSacramento and Guadalupe, we struck upon a small stream, which wefollowed downward. It brought us at length to a large river runningnorth and south, which we knew to be the celebrated Pecos, or, as it issometimes called, the Puerco. These, you will perceive, are all Spanishnames, for the country through which we were travelling, althoughuninhabited and almost unexplored by the Mexican Spaniards, was yet partof their territory; and such objects as were known to them, throughhunters or others, had received names in their language.

  We crossed the Pecos, and travelled for some days up its left bank, inhopes of reaching some other stream that might run into it from theeast, which we could follow. No such stream appeared; and we wereforced at times to leave the Pecos itself, and take out into the opencountry for a distance of miles, before we could get back to its waters.This was on account of the deep channel which the river--working forlong ages--had cut through hills that opposed its course, leaving onboth sides vast precipices for its banks.

  Having got farther to the north than we wished, our party at lengthdetermined to attempt the passage of the arid plain which stretched awayeastward as far as the eye could reach. It was a perilous enterprise toleave the river, without some knowledge that there was water ahead ofus. Travellers, under such circumstances, usually keep close to astream--wherever it runs in the direction in which they wish to go; butwe had grown impatient on not finding one flowing into the Pecos fromthe east; and, having filled our gourd canteens, and given our animalsas much water as they could drink, we turned their heads towards theopen plain.

  After riding for several hours, we found ourselves in the midst of awide desert, with neither hill, mountain, nor any other landmark inview. Scarcely a trace of vegetation appeared around us. Here andthere were patches of stunted sage-bushes and clumps of thorny cactus;but not a blade of grass to gladden the eyes of our animals. Not a dropof water was met with, nor any indication that rain had ever fallen uponthat parched plain. The soil was as dry as powder, and the dust, kickedup by the hoofs of our mules and horses, hung around us in clouds as wemarched. In addition to this, the heat was excessive; and this, withthe dust and fatigue of travel, brought on an unquenchable thirst, thatsoon caused us to drink up the contents of our water-gourds. Longbefore night they were all empty, and every one of our party was cryingout from thirst. Our animals suffered worse--for we, at least, hadfood, while they, poor brutes, were without a bite to sustain them.

  We could not well turn back. We thought we should surely come to water,sooner than we could get back to the river we had left; and with thishope we struggled on. Late in the afternoon, our eyes were greeted by aglad sight, that caused us to start up in our saddles with a feeling ofjoy. You may think that it was water--but it was not. It was a whiteobject that appeared against the sky at a great distance. It was of atriangular shape, and seemed to be suspended in the air like the upperhalf of a huge kite. All of us knew at a glance what it was. We knewthat it was the white cap of a snowy mountain.

  You will wonder why this sight should have given us such feelings ofpleasure, as, in your opinion, there is nothing very hospitable in theappearance of a snow-capped mountain. That is because you do notunderstand the peculiarities of the Desert. I will explain. We knew,from the appearance of the mountain, that it was one of those where thesnow lies for ever, and which throughout Mexico are termed "Nevada," orsnowy. We knew, moreover, that wherever these are met with, streams ofwater will be found running down their sides, almost at all seasons, butcertainly in hot or summer weather, in consequence of the melting of thesnow. It was this knowledge, then, that cheered us; and although themountain seemed at a great distance, we pushed forward with renewedenergy and hope. Our animals, too, as if they also understood thematter, neighed and brayed loudly, and stepped out with a more springyand elastic tread.

  The white triangle grew bigger as we advanced. At sunset we coulddistinguish the brown seams in the lower part of the mountain; and theyellow rays glancing upon the snowy crystals of the cone caused it toglitter like a coronet of gold. The sight cheered us on.

  The sun set, and the moon took his place in the heavens. Under her palelight we travelled on--the peak of the mountain still glistening coldlybefore us. We travelled all night--and why not? There was nothing tohalt for. We could not have halted, except to die.

  The morning broke upon us as we dragged wearily along. We could nothave ridden less than an hundred miles since leaving the Pecos river;and yet, to our dismay, the mountain was still at a good distance beforeus. As the day brightened, we could trace the configuration of itsbase; and we observed that upon its southern face a deep ravine indentedthe mountain nearly to its top. On its western side--the one nearestus--there was no such feature; and we conjectured that the most likelyplace for water would be in the ravine on the south, where a streamwould be formed by the aggregation of the melted snows.

  We directed our course toward the point, where the ravine appeared tohave its debouchement on the plain. We had calculated rightly. As weapproached it, winding round the foot of the mountain, we saw a line ofa bright green colour, running out into the brown desert. It lookedlike a low hedge, with here and there tall trees growing up above therest. We knew well what it was--a grove of willows, with trees ofcotton-wood interspersed. We knew them to be the sur
e signs of water,and we hailed their appearance with delight. The men huzzaed hoarsely--the horses neighed--the mules hinnied--and, in a few moments more, men,mules, and horses, were kneeling by a crystal streamlet, and drinkingdeeply of its sweet and refreshing waters.