The trail did not lead in a direct line. At some places it did so for several hundred yards--then it would turn suddenly to the right or left--then turn again and again in zig-zag lines. Sometimes it described the circ.u.mference of a circle and at one or two points it recrossed itself. At these places the dog was once or twice nearly baffled again.
They well knew the reason why the trail thus meandered about. Poor Francois had been wandering, and knew not which way to go.
Once more the trail ran direct for a distance of two miles or more. No doubt Francois had there kept up his resolution and ridden straight forward; but, as Basil remarked, he had been travelling all the time with his back to their camp! Over this part, as the trail was fresh, the hound ran rapidly, keeping the hunters at a brisk gallop. At the end of the stretch it again turned to the right and westward.
As they faced in this direction, the attention of the brothers was called to the sky. _The sun was setting_!
A new feeling of apprehension came over them. They knew there was no twilight, or next to none, on these high southern plateaux. Should it come on a dark night, how were they to follow the dog, going as he was upon a run? _He_ might still keep the trail and come up with Francois, but what would be the good of that, so long as _they_ were not with him?
It would only give Francois another companion in his misery, but no clue by which he would be enabled to find _them_, or they _him_.
These thoughts were communicated between the two as they galloped on side by side. Soon the sun set, and the shades of twilight fell upon the gra.s.s. It grew darker, until it was difficult to distinguish the dusky body of the hound pa.s.sing over the sward. What was to be done?
He would soon glide away from them, and leave them without a guide!
"I have it!" suddenly exclaimed Basil; and at the words he spurred his horse forward to overtake Marengo. The next moment he flung himself from the saddle; and, seizing the hound, arrested him in his tracks.
"Alight, brother!" he cried; "alight, and help me. Off with your shirt--it is whiter than mine."
Lucien, half comprehending his design, immediately pulled off his blouse, and after that his shirt--which was of bleached cotton cloth lightly striped, and in the dim light showed nearly white. Basil took hold of it; and hurriedly tore off the sleeves. He then drew it upon the dog; and having pa.s.sed the animal"s fore-feet through the arm-holes, tied the collar securely around his throat with a piece of thong, and knotted the skirts over the flanks behind. Thus arrayed, Marengo looked like a street monkey; and was rendered quite visible in the glimmering darkness.
"Now!" cried Basil, exultingly, "we can follow him if it were as dark as pitch."
"Stay a moment," said Lucien; "let us make sure. It is clear enough--I can write yet." As Lucien said this, he took out his note-book, and wrote:--
"_Francois, come back on your own trail. You will find us upon it. If you cannot follow it, let Marengo guide you_."
He tore out the leaf, handing it to Basil, who fastened it securely to the shirt.
Marengo was again set loose, and took to the trail, while both mounted hastily and followed him.
Fortunately the night did not turn out so dark as they had antic.i.p.ated; and they could see the white covering with sufficient distinctness to enable them to follow it, even at a gallop. And thus they rode for nearly another hour--Basil still blazing their trail as they swept past the timber islets.
All at once, as they rounded a thick grove, a bright object glistened before their eyes. It was a blazing fire under the shadow of some tall trees! Marengo made straight for it. Fearing it might be an encampment of Indians, Basil galloped forward; and, alighting from his horse, intercepted the dog. A halt was made to determine what was best to be done. At that moment the fire blazed up, and a spotted object was seen near it. Hurrah! It was Francois" mustang! Basil and Lucien now advanced rapidly; and, to their great joy, beheld Francois sitting by the fire holding something over the blaze. The next moment the brothers were in each other"s arms, all three weeping with joy as they embraced!
Francois soon related his adventures. He had killed his turkey, and then lost himself; but instead of going back upon his own trail, as Basil had done, he had wandered about until night-fall, at intervals shouting and firing his gun. At times his spirit failed him; and he rode for long stretches without touching the bridle, or in any way guiding his horse. Wearied at length, he dismounted, and tied the animal to a tree. It was night when he did so; and feeling cold and hungry, he took courage and kindled a fire. Fortunately the gobbler still hung from the cantle of his saddle; and he had just singed, and was roasting it over the fire, when so agreeably interrupted by the approach of his brothers. At sight of the fine broiling turkey, Basil and Lucien became as hungry as a pair of wolves--for, in consequence of their anxiety, they had not thought of dining. The roast was soon ready; and, after a plentiful supper--which Marengo shared--the young hunters staked their horses upon the gra.s.s, wrapped themselves in their blankets, and went to sleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
JEANETTE AND THE JAVALIES.
Next morning they were astir at an early hour; and, after giving the remains of the gobbler a hurried "devilling," they ate them, and rode off on the back trail. They did not put the dog upon it to guide them-- as the scent was now cold, and they feared that Marengo, keen as he was, might get astray upon it. They trusted to find it from their own tracks, and the "blazes" they had made. It was a slow process, and they were obliged to make frequent halts; but it was a sure one, and they preferred it on that account, as they knew the importance of getting back to Jeanette. The tent, with all their provisions and implements, was in her keeping.
They were in high spirits--as most people are who have just escaped from a perilous adventure--and joked each other as they rode along. Lucien was without a shirt--for Marengo had torn it, and it was now draggled, wet, and worthless. This was a staple joke for Francois. Jeanette came in for a share of their badinage, as Lucien now remembered that he had tied her head within a foot of the tree, and of course she would be all this time without eating a morsel. Moreover, in their hurry, the pack had been left upon her back; and that was not likely to improve her temper.
It was near mid-day when they came within sight of her.
"Hilloa!" exclaimed Francois, who first caught a glimpse of her round a point of timber. "What"s going on yonder?"
All three halted, and looked across the plain with astonishment depicted in their faces; and no wonder, for a sight it was to astonish anybody.
It was Jeanette, to be sure; but Jeanette in most singular att.i.tudes.
Her heels were flying in the air--now her fore-feet, now her hind ones-- not in single flings, but in constant and rapid kicking. Sometimes the whole set appeared to bounce up at once; and the white canvas of the tent, which had got loosened, was flapping up and down, as her body rose and fell.
The boys looked on for a moment, with feelings of curiosity, not unmingled with fear. "It might be Indians," thought they.
"No," said Basil. "It is wolves--she is attacked by wolves! Let us hasten to her rescue!"
All three spurred their horses into a gallop, and soon got within a few hundred yards. They could now see the ground by the mule"s feet, which was covered, not with wolves, but with animals of a far different species. They were hog-shaped, with small, dark bodies, and long pointed snouts. They had no tails--only k.n.o.bs in their place; and their tapering snouts opened into a pair of long jaws, with white tusks, that could be seen even in the distance.
"_Javalies_!" cried Lucien, who, although he had never seen the animal, knew them from description. Javalies they were in fact--the wild-hogs of Mexico.
All three had pulled up, as soon as they saw the animals were not wolves. They did not halt long, for Jeanette was in danger. She was still kicking and squealing like a cat; while the javalies, although several of them lay stretched behind her heels, were uttering their shrill grunts, and rushing at her shanks whenever these rested for a moment upon the earth. There were more than a hundred of them around her feet. The ground was literally covered with their dark forms, crowding each other, and springing nimbly about.
Without waiting to consider the danger, Basil dashed into their midst, followed by Francois and Lucien. It was well they were mounted, else they never would have come out of that crowd again. All three had fired as they rode up. They believed that this would have scattered the drove; but they found their mistake, for although each of them shot down a victim, it had no effect; and the next moment, their three horses were hopping about, plunging and pitching as badly as Jeanette. The javalies surrounded them with shrill gruntings, driving their tusks into the horses" shanks, and leaping up almost high enough to reach the riders themselves. It was well for them they were good riders. Had any of them been unhorsed at that moment, his fate would have been sealed.
They kept their saddles, however, but without being able to reload their pieces. Marengo, who was an old Texas hound, had seen javalies before; and having wisely shied off upon the prairie, stood looking on.
The young hunters soon saw that it was no use keeping their ground, and prepared to retreat. Basil urged his horse forward to the tree, and with his hunting-knife cut the la.s.so that fastened Jeanette; then, shouting to his brothers to follow, started in a gallop across the prairie.
Perhaps never was a mule more pleased at getting loose from a fastening than was that she-mule Jeanette; and never did a mule make better use of the heels that had been left her. She galloped over the prairie, as if the very deuce had been after her. But if he _was not_, the javalies _were_; for on came the whole drove, scores of them, grunting and screaming as they ran.
The horses easily distanced them. So, too, did Marengo--but there was still danger for Jeanette. She had been now nearly two days without either food or water, and was weak in consequence. Her legs, too, were much torn by the tusks of the wild-hogs. Moreover, the tent that had got loose, trailing on one side to the ground, considerably impeded her flight. This last circ.u.mstance in the end proved her salvation; for the javalies, overtaking her, seized the hanging canvas in their jaws, and pulled it from the pack. It fell spreading over the gra.s.s like a blanket; and the herd, now coming up and mistaking it for their real enemy, commenced stamping upon it with their hoofs, and tearing it with their teeth. This gave Jeanette time; and she was just the mule at that moment to profit by it. Lightened of her load, she struck out into a fleet gallop, and soon overtook the horses; and the whole cavalcade now kept on, until they had placed several miles between themselves and the javalies. Here they halted with the intention of pitching their camps, as their animals were not only wearied, but Jeanette was hardly able to travel at all. The process of "pitching camp" was now considerably simplified, as they had lost not only their tent, but several of their camp utensils.
What had induced the javalies to attack the mule? This was the subject of conversation with our adventurers, as soon as they had fairly cooled from their race. They knew that these creatures rarely make an a.s.sault in such a manner without provocation. But it was likely Jeanette had given them this. No doubt they had been wandering about in search of food, and lighted upon the turkeys, that Lucien and Basil in their haste had left lying upon the ground. The wild-hogs are not particular as to their food. They will eat fish, flesh, or fowl, snakes, or vegetables; and, finding the brace of birds, had commenced devouring them. In doing so they had come within reach of Jeanette"s heels; who, at that moment not being in the best temper had no doubt let fly, and kicked one of them over, and this of course had led to a general onslaught from the whole herd.
It was well for Jeanette that her masters arrived when they did, else her old ribs would soon have cracked under the sharp tusks of the enraged animals.
The javalies, or _peccaries_--as they are more often termed by naturalists--are in general of a harmless disposition; and, if not interfered with, will rarely make an attack upon man. When provoked, however--by one of their number being wounded, or even when their haunt is invaded--they become both fierce and dangerous. Though small creatures, they possess extreme courage; and their powerful jaws and large tusks render them formidable a.s.sailants. Like all animals of the hog species when enraged, they seem to be unconscious of danger; and a herd of them will battle with an enemy until every one has fallen. Not unfrequently the Mexican hunter is "treed" by javalies, and compelled to remain on his perch for hours, and sometimes for days, before his besiegers retire, and leave him to descend with safety.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD "POSSUM.
The place where our adventurers now encamped was in a large grove of white oaks and sh.e.l.l-bark hickory-trees. There was a spring near the centre of the grove, and near this spring the horses were tied, as there grew around it plenty of gra.s.s of the mezquite species. The dried meat, which formed the staple of their own provisions, had been scattered by Jeanette in her flight, and of course lost. What were they to have for dinner? This was an important question; and by way of answer to it, Basil and Francois took up their guns and walked out to see whether they could fall in with a squirrel or some other eatable creature. But the sun was yet high, and no squirrels could be seen--for these little creatures hide themselves during mid-day, coming out only in the mornings and evenings to feed and play.
Failing to start any game in the thick shady grove, the young hunters bethought them of making trial around its edge; and, after walking a hundred yards or so, they came near the border of the prairie. They did not show themselves suddenly, as they were in hopes they might discover deer, partridges, or some other game in--what is usually a favourite resort--the open ground along the edge of the woods. They stole silently forward, therefore, using the large tree-trunks to screen them.
The prairie was a clear one--that is, without timber-islands, only here and there a tree, and these but small ones, mostly black-jacks and sh.e.l.l-barks. They could see over its surface to a great extent, as it was quite level and covered with short spring buffalo-gra.s.s. No deer was upon it. Not an animal of any sort. Yes, there was. On looking more carefully, at no great distance--about two hundred yards out--they beheld two small creatures running over the sward, and at intervals squatting upon their haunches like monkeys, as if conversing with each other.
"Prairie-dogs," suggested Francois.
"No," said Basil, "they are not that, for I see no tails. The prairie-dogs have long tails."
"What can they be, then?"
"Hares, I take it," replied Basil, looking through his fingers.
"Hares!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Francois, in some surprise. "Why, they are not bigger than rats! Do you mean that they are young hares?"