by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
ADVENTURE WITH THE CARCAJOU.
"We arose early next morning; and, having eaten a hearty breakfast ofelk-steaks and coffee, began to consider what was the next thing to bedone. We had now quite enough of meat to carry us to the end of thelongest journey, and it only remained to be cured, so that it would keepon the way. But how were we to cure it, when we had not a particle ofsalt? Here was a difficulty which for a moment looked us in the face.Only for a moment, for I soon recollected that there was a way ofpreserving meat without salt, which has always been much in use amongSpanish people, and in countries where salt is very scarce and dear. Ihad heard, too, that this method was much practised among the trappersand hunters when laying up a stock of buffalo flesh, or of any otheranimals they might chance to kill. It is called `jerking,' and the meatwhen thus prepared goes by the name of `jerked meat.' By the Spaniardsit is called `tasajo.'
"I remembered having read an account of the process, and afterinstructing Cudjo in it, we immediately set about `jerking' the elk. Wefirst built a large fire, upon which we placed a great many sticks ofgreen wood freshly cut from the tree. This was done so that the firemight burn slowly, and throw out a great volume of smoke. We then stuckseveral stakes into the ground around the fire, and stretched lines fromone to the other. This being done, we took down the quarters of the elkand removed the meat from the bones--cutting it off in thin strips, eachof them over a yard in length. These strips we hung over the linesalready prepared, so that they might be exposed to the smoke and heat ofthe fire, although not so much as to cause them to be broiled. Thewhole process was now ended--excepting that it would be necessary for usto look occasionally to the fire, as well as to see that the dogs andwolves did not leap up and snap off the meat, that hung down from thelines like so many strings of sausages. In about three days the fleshof the elk would be `jerked,' and capable of being, carried to anydistance without the danger of spoiling.
"During these three days we all remained very much in the neighbourhoodof our camp. We might have procured more game had we gone out to huntfor it, but we did not do this for three reasons:--First, because we hadenough for our wants; secondly, we did not wish, under thecircumstances, to waste a single charge of ammunition; and, lastly,because we had seen the tracks of bears and panthers by the stream. Wedid not wish to risk meeting with any of these customers in the dark andtangled woods, which we should have been likely enough to do, had wegone far out in pursuit of game. We were determined to leave themunmolested as long as they should preserve a similar line of conducttowards us; and, in order to prevent any of them from intruding into ourcamp while we were asleep, we kept a circle of fires burning around thewagon throughout the night.
"During these three days, however, we were not without fresh viands, andthose, too, of the most luxurious and delicate kinds. I had succeededin killing a wild turkey, which, along with several others, had enteredthe glade, and run close up to our camp before they saw us. He was alarge `gobbler'--over twenty pounds in weight--and, I need not tell you,proved far more delicious eating than his tame cousins of the farm-yard.
"At the end of the third day, the elk-meat was as dry as a chip; andtaking it from the lines we packed it in small bundles, and placed it inour wagon. We now thought of waiting only until our animals should befairly recruited; and as both horse and ox were up to their eyes, frommorning till night, in rich pasturage, and began to fill out about theflanks, we were congratulating ourselves that we should not have long towait.
"Of how little value are human calculations! Just at that moment, whenwe were so sanguine of being able soon to escape from our desert prison,an event occurred, which rendered that escape altogether impossible--foryears at least, and it might have been, for ever. But I will detail thecircumstance as it happened.
"It was on the afternoon of the fourth day after we had entered thevalley. We had just finished dinner, and were sitting near the firewatching the two children, Mary and Luisa, as they rolled in joyousinnocence over the smooth green sward. My wife and I were conversingabout the little Luisa--about the unfortunate end of her father andmother--both of whom, we believed, had fallen victims in the savagemassacre. We were talking of how we should bring her up--whether inignorance of the melancholy fate of her parents, and in the belief thatshe was one of our own children--or whether, when she had grown to asufficient age to understand it, we should reveal to her the sad storyof her orphanage. Our thoughts now reverted, for the first time, to ourown wretched prospects, for these, too, had been blighted by the loss ofour Scotch friend. We were going to a strange land--a land where weknew no one--of whose language, even, we were ignorant--a land, too,whose inhabitants were neither prosperous of themselves, nor disposed tocountenance prosperity in others--much less of the race to which webelonged. We were going, too, without an object; for that which hadbrought us so far was now removed by the death of our friend. We had noproperty--no money--not enough even to get us shelter for a singlenight: what would become of us? They were bitter reflections which wedrew from thinking on the future; but we did not permit them to tortureus long.
"`Fear not, Robert,' said my noble wife, placing her hand in mine, andlooking cheerfully in my face; `_He_ who has guarded us through the pastis not likely to fail us in the future.'
"`Dear Mary,' I replied, roused to new life and energy by her consolingwords, `you are right--you are right--in Him only let us trust.'
"At that moment a strange noise sounded in our ears, coming from thedirection of the forest. It seemed distant at first, but every momentdrew nearer and nearer. It was like the voice of some animal `routing'from extreme terror or pain. I looked around for the ox. The horse wasin the glade, but his companion was not to be seen. Again the voicecame from the woods, louder and more fearful than ever. It was plainlythe bellowing of an ox; but what could it mean? Once more it rose uponthe air, nearer and more distinct, and sounded as though the animal wasrunning as it cried!
"I sprang to my rifle--Frank and Harry also seized theirs--Cudjo armedhimself with the Indian spear; and the dogs, that had started to theirfeet, stood waiting a signal to rush forth.
"Once more broke out that terrible cry; and we could now hear thesweeping of leaves, and the crackling of branches, as if some hugeanimal was tearing its way through the bushes. The birds flew up fromthe thicket, terrified and screaming--the horse neighed wildly--the dogssent forth their impatient yelps, and our children shrieked in affright!Again rose, the deep and sonorous roar, filling the valley with itsagonising tones. The cane rattled as it yielded to the crushing hoof.We saw the leaves of the thick underwood shaking at a distance--thennearer--then up to the edge of the glade--and the next moment a brightred object appeared through the leaves, and dashed out into the opening.We saw at a glance it was the ox; but what could it mean? Was hepursued by some monster--some beast of prey? No! not pursued, butalready overtaken. Look! see what the ox carries on his shoulders! Oh,heavens! what a sight!
"We were all for a while as if paralysed. Between the shoulders of theox, and clutching him around the neck, was a large animal. It at firstsight appeared to be a mass of brown shaggy hair, and part of the oxhimself--so closely was it fastened upon him. As they drew nearer,however, we could distinguish the spreading claws and short muscularlimbs of a fearful creature. Its head was down near the throat of theox, which we could see was torn, and dappled with crimson spots. Themouth of the strange animal was resting upon his jugular vein. It wastearing his flesh, and drinking his blood as he ran!
"The ox, as he came out of the thicket, galloped but slowly, andbellowed with less energy than before. We could perceive that hetottered as he ran, still making for the camp. In a short time, he wasin our midst, when, uttering a long moan, he fell to the earth with thedeath-rattle in his throat!
"The strange animal, roused by the shock, suddenly let go its hold, andraised itself erect over the carcass. Now, for the first time, I sawwhat it was. It
was the fearful _carcajou_! Now, too, for the firsttime, it seemed to be aware of our presence, and suddenly placed itselfin an attitude to spring. The next moment it had launched its bodytowards Mary and the children!
"We all three fired as it sprang forward, but our feelings had unnervedus, and the bullets whistled idly away. I drew my knife and rushedafter; but Cudjo was before me, and I saw the blade of his spearglancing towards it like a flash of light, and burying itself in thelong hair. With a hoarse growl, the monster turned, and, to my joy, Isaw that it was impaled upon the spear, which had passed through theskin of its neck. Instead of yielding, however, it rushed up the shaft,until Cudjo was compelled to drop the weapon, to save himself from beingtorn by its long, fierce claws. Before it could clear itself from thespear, I had drawn my large pistol, and fired directly into its breast.The shot proved mortal; and the shaggy monster rolled over, andstruggled for some minutes in the agonies of death. _We_ were saved;but our poor ox, that was to have drawn us out of the Desert, lay uponthe grass a lifeless and almost bloodless carcase!"