Part 21 (2/2)
”Get out, you renegade! do you call this home?” cried Ned.
”'Tis all that's of it at present, anyhow.”
”When shall we start?” inquired Tom Collins.
”To-morrow. We have few preparations to make, and the sooner we go the better; for when the rainy season sets in, our journeying will be stopped perforce. I have a plan in my mind which I shall detail to you after we retire to rest. Meanwhile I'll go and improve my bed, which has been so uncomfortable for some nights past that my very bones are aching.”
Ned rose, took up an axe, and, going into the bush in rear of the tent, cut down a young pine-tree, the tender shoots and branches of which he stripped off, and strewed thickly on the ground on which he was wont to sleep; over these he spread two thick blankets, and on this simple but springy and comfortable couch he and Tom Coffins lay down side by side to talk over their future plans, while their comrades snored around them.
Daylight found them still talking; so, pausing by mutual consent, they s.n.a.t.c.hed an hour's repose before commencing the needful preparations for their contemplated journey.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
NED AND TOM TAKE TO WANDERING--PHILOSOPHICAL SPECULATIONS--A STARTLING APPARITION--THE DIGGER INDIANS--WATER BOILED IN A BASKET--THE GLOOMY Pa.s.s--THE ATTACK BY ROBBERS--THE FIGHT--A SURPRISE--THE ENCAMPMENT.
Change is one of the laws of nature. We refer not to small-change, reader, but to physical, material change. Everything is given to change; men, and things, and place, and circ.u.mstances, all change, more or less, as time rolls on in its endless course. Following, then, this inevitable law of nature, we, too, will change the scene, and convey our reader deeper in among the plains and mountains of the far, ”far west.”
It is a beautiful evening in July. The hot season has not yet succeeded in burning up all nature into a dry russet-brown. The whole face of the country is green and fresh after a recent shower, which has left myriads of diamond-drops trembling from the point of every leaf and blade. A wide valley, of a n.o.ble park-like appearance, is spread out before us, with scattered groups of trees all over it, blue mountain-ranges in the far distance circling round it, and a bright stream winding down its emerald breast. On the hill-sides the wild-flowers grow so thickly that they form a soft, thick couch to lie upon, immense trees, chiefly pines and cedars, rise here and there like giants above their fellows. Oaks, too, are numerous, and the scene in many places is covered with mansanita underwood, a graceful and beautiful shrub. The trees and shrubbery, however, are not so thickly planted as to intercept the view, and the ground undulates so much that occasionally we overtop them, and obtain a glimpse of the wide vale before us. Over the whole landscape there is a golden sunny haze, that enriches while it softens every object, and the balmy atmosphere is laden with the sweet perfume called forth by the pa.s.sing shower.
One might fancy Eden to have been somewhat similar to this, and here, as there, the presence of the Lord might be recognised in a higher degree than in most other parts of this earth, for, in this almost untrodden wilderness, His pre-eminently beautiful works have not yet to any great extent been marred by the hand of man.
Far away towards the north, two hors.e.m.e.n may be seen wending their way through the country at a slow, ambling pace, as if they would fain prolong their ride in such a lovely vale. The one is Ned Sinton, the other Tom Collins.
It had cost these worthies a week of steady riding, to reach the spot on which we now find them, during which time they had pa.s.sed through great varieties of scenery, had seen many specimens of digging-life, and had experienced not a few vicissitudes; but their griefs were few and slight compared with their enjoyments, and, at the moment we overtake them, they were riding they knew not and they cared not whither! Sufficient for them to know that the wilds before them were illimitable; that their steeds were of the best and fleetest Mexican breed; that their purses were well-lined with dollars and gold-dust; that they were armed with rifles, pistols, knives, and ammunition, to the teeth; and that the land was swarming with game.
”'Tis a perfect paradise!” exclaimed Tom Collins, as they reined up on the brow of a hill to gaze at the magnificent prospect before them.
”Strange,” murmured Ned, half soliloquising, ”that, although so wild and uncultivated, it should remind me so forcibly of home. Yonder bend in the stream, and the scenery round it, is so like to the spot where I was born, and where I spent my earliest years, that I can almost fancy the old house will come into view at the next turn.”
”It does indeed remind one of the cultivated parks of England,” replied Tom; ”but almost all my early a.s.sociations are connected with cities. I have seen little of uncontaminated nature all my life, except the blue sky through chimney tops, and even that was seen through a medium of smoke.”
”Do you know,” remarked Ned, as they resumed their journey at a slow pace, ”it has always seemed to me that cities are unnatural monstrosities, and that there should be no such things!”
”Indeed,” replied Tom, laughing; ”how, then, would you have men to live?”
”In the country, of course, in cottages and detached houses. I would sow London, Liverpool, Manchester, etcetera, broadcast over the land, so that there would be no spot in Britain in which there were not cl.u.s.ters of human dwellings, each with its little garden around it, and yet no spot on which a _city_ could be found.”
”Hum, rather awkward for the transaction of business, I fear,” suggested Tom.
”Not a bit; our distances would be greater, but we could overcome that difficulty by using horses more than we do--and railroads.”
”And how would you manage with huge manufactories?” inquired Tom.
”I've not been able to solve that difficulty yet,” replied Ned, smiling; ”but my not being able to point out how things may be put right, does not, in the least degree, alter the fact that, as they are at present, they are wrong.”
”Most true, my sagacious friend,” said Tom; ”but, pray, how do you prove the fact that things _are_ wrong?”
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