Then we turned westward, and moved over the hills and hollows at a slow pace toward the Black Hills.The heat no longer tormented us, for a cloud was before the sun.Yet that day shall never be marked with white in my calendar.The air began to grow fresh and cool, the distant mountains frowned more gloomily, there was a low muttering of thunder, and dense black masses of cloud rose heavily behind the broken peaks.At first they were gayly fringed with silver by the afternoon sun, but soon the thick blackness overspread the whole sky, and the desert around us was wrapped in deep gloom.I scarcely heeded it at the time, but now I cannot but feel that there was an awful sublimity in the hoarse murmuring of the thunder, in the somber shadows that involved the mountains and the plain.The storm broke.
It came upon us with a zigzag blinding flash, with a terrific crash of thunder, and with a hurricane that howled over the prairie, dashing floods of water against us.Raymond looked round, and cursed the merciless elements.There seemed no shelter near, but we discerned at length a deep ravine gashed in the level prairie, and saw half way down its side an old pine tree, whose rough horizontal boughs formed a sort of penthouse against the tempest.We found a practicable passage, and hastily descending, fastened our animals to some large loose stones at the bottom; then climbing up, we drew our blankets over our heads, and seated ourselves close beneath the old tree.Perhaps I was no competent judge of time, but it seemed to me that we were sitting there a full hour, while around us poured a deluge of rain, through which the rocks on the opposite side of the gulf were barely visible.The first burst of the tempest soon subsided, but the rain poured steadily.At length Raymond grew impatient, and scrambling out of the ravine, he gained the level prairie above.
"What does the weather look like?" asked I, from my seat under the tree.
"It looks bad," he answered; "dark all around," and again he descended and sat down by my side.Some ten minutes elapsed.
"Go up again," said I, "and take another look;" and he clambered up the precipice."Well, how is it?""Just the same, only I see one little bright spot over the top of the mountain.
The rain by this time had begun to abate; and going down to the bottom of the ravine, we loosened the animals, who were standing up to their knees in water.Leading them up the rocky throat of the ravine, we reached the plain above."Am I," I thought to myself, "the same man who a few months since, was seated, a quiet student of BELLES-LETTRES, in a cushioned arm-chair by a sea-coal fire?"All around us was obscurity; but the bright spot above the mountaintops grew wider and ruddier, until at length the clouds drew apart, and a flood of sunbeams poured down from heaven, streaming along the precipices, and involving them in a thin blue haze, as soft and lovely as that which wraps the Apennines on an evening in spring.
Rapidly the clouds were broken and scattered, like routed legions of evil spirits.The plain lay basking in sunbeams around us; a rainbow arched the desert from north to south, and far in front a line of woods seemed inviting us to refreshment and repose.When we reached them, they were glistening with prismatic dewdrops, and enlivened by the song and flutterings of a hundred birds.Strange winged insects, benumbed by the rain, were clinging to the leaves and the bark of the trees.
Raymond kindled a fire with great difficulty.The animals turned eagerly to feed on the soft rich grass, while I, wrapping myself in my blanket, lay down and gazed on the evening landscape.The mountains, whose stern features had lowered upon us with so gloomy and awful a frown, now seemed lighted up with a serene, benignant smile, and the green waving undulations of the plain were gladdened with the rich sunshine.Wet, ill, and wearied as I was, my spirit grew lighter at the view, and I drew from it an augury of good for my future prospects.
When morning came, Raymond awoke, coughing violently, though I had apparently received no injury.We mounted, crossed the little stream, pushed through the trees, and began our journey over the plain beyond.And now, as we rode slowly along, we looked anxiously on every hand for traces of the Indians, not doubting that the village had passed somewhere in that vicinity; but the scanty shriveled grass was not more than three or four inches high, and the ground was of such unyielding hardness that a host might have marched over it and left scarcely a trace of its passage.Up hill and down hill, and clambering through ravines, we continued our journey.As we were skirting the foot of a hill I saw Raymond, who was some rods in advance, suddenly jerking the reins of his mule.Sliding from his seat, and running in a crouching posture up a hollow, he disappeared;and then in an instant I heard the sharp quick crack of his rifle.Awounded antelope came running on three legs over the hill.I lashed Pauline and made after him.My fleet little mare soon brought me by his side, and after leaping and bounding for a few moments in vain, he stood still, as if despairing of escape.His glistening eyes turned up toward my face with so piteous a look that it was with feelings of infinite compunction that I shot him through the head with a pistol.Raymond skinned and cut him up, and we hung the forequarters to our saddles, much rejoiced that our exhausted stock of provisions was renewed in such good time.
