"'Oh! so much as that! It does not seem half so high. I have seen mountains that appeared to me to be quite as high as it, and yet it was said they did not measure the half of 14,000 feet.'

"'That arises from the fact that you are not viewing this one from the sea-level, as you did them. The plain upon which it stands, and from which we view it, is of itself elevated nearly half as much. You must remember that we are upon one of the high tables of the American continent.'

"Here, for a minute or so, the conversation stopped; and we travelled on in silence, all of us with our eyes fixed on the white and roseate peak that glittered before us, leading our eyes far up into the heavens.

"Frank again resumed the discourse, which had been broken off by our admiration of this beautiful object.

"'Is it not curious,' said he, 'that the snow should lie so regularly, coming down on all sides to the same height, and ending just like the cape of a coat or the hem of a nightcap? It seems to be a straight line all around the mountain.'

"'That line,' rejoined his mother, 'is, as you say, a curious phenomenon, and caused by the laws of heat and cold, which we have just been explaining. It is called the "snow-line," and a good deal of speculation has arisen among cosmographers about the elevation of this line. Of course, on mountains within the tropics this line will be at a great height above the level of the sea. As you advance northward or southward to the Poles, it will be found lower and lower, until within the frigid zones it may be said to cease altogether--for there, as we have said, snow covers the whole earth, and there can be no "snow-line."

"'From this, one would suppose that an exact scale might be formed, giving the elevation of the snow-line for all lat.i.tudes. But that could not be done. Observation has shown that it not only differs on mountains that lie in the same lat.i.tude, but that on the same mountain it is often higher on one side than the other--particularly on those of great extent, as the Himmalehs of India. This is all quite natural, and easily accounted for. The position of mountains to one another, and their proximity or great distance from the sea, will give them a colder or warmer atmosphere, independent of lat.i.tude. Moreover, the same mountain may have a warmer climate on one side than the other; and of course the snow-line will be higher on that side which is the warmer, in consequence of the greater melting of the snow. This line, too, varies in summer and winter for a like reason--as we see here upon our own mountain, where it has already descended several feet since the weather became colder. This, you will acknowledge, is all very natural; and you will see, too, that Nature, although apparently capricious in many of her operations, acts most regularly in this one, as perhaps in all others.'

"'But, mamma,' inquired Harry, 'can we not get to the top of the mountain? I should like to have some snow to make snow-b.a.l.l.s, and pelt Frank with them.'

"'It would be a very difficult task, Master Hal; and more than either you or I could get through with. I think Frank will escape being snow-balled this time.'

"'But people have climbed to the top of the Himmaleh mountains; and they are far higher than this, I am sure.'

"'Never,' interrupted Frank; 'no one has ever climbed the Himmalehs.

Have they, mamma?'

"'No mortal has ever been so high as the summits of those great mountains, which are more than five miles above the level of the ocean.

Even could they be climbed, it is not likely that any animal could live at their top. These inaccessible things seem to have been designed by the Creator to afford us objects for sublime contemplation--objects far above the reach of mortal man, and that can never be rendered common by his contact. Do they not seem so?'

"We had now reached the foot of the mountain, and halting near the entrance of the ravine, we loosed Pompo from his cart, and rested ourselves on the banks of the little stream. After a while we commenced ascending up into the defile in search of the pinons. As we advanced, Mary pointed out the trees which she had noticed on a former occasion.

They appeared of a light green colour, much lighter than others that grew near them. We made towards one which stood apart, and was most accessible to us. This we hoped might prove to be the bread-pine tree; and we approached it with feelings of anxiety and expectation.

"In a short time we were under its branches; and if we had had no other test than what we saw there, combined with the delicious fragrance of the tree, we could have told that it could be no other than the pinon.

The ground was covered with cones, each of them about an inch and a half in length; but on examining them, we found them all broken open and the seed extracted. Some animal had been there before us, and relished their contents--thus affording a proof that they were good to eat.

There were still many of the cones hanging on the tree; and it was not long until we had split some of them open and tasted their ripe seeds.

"'It is it!' cried my wife, clapping her hands with delight. 'It is the nut-pine! This will serve for bread until we can grow our wheat and corn. Come, let us gather them,' added she, pointing to a large grove of the same trees that grew at a short distance; and we all hurried to the grove, and commenced shaking down the cones and gathering them into heaps.

"We had soon collected as many as we wanted, and in the evening we returned to the valley, with our little cart half-full of pine-nuts. On reaching home, some of them were parched and pounded into a sort of coa.r.s.e meal; and that night, for the first time during many weeks, we had cakes to our supper.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

THE MENAGERIE, AVIARY, AND BOTANIC GARDEN.

"We were busy of course every day, as we had plenty of work to do. We laid a floor in our cabin, and fenced a couple of fields--one to plant our corn in, and the other to keep Pompo from straying off into the woods, and meeting with some animal that might feel inclined to devour him. We also succeeded in killing several red-deer and a couple of elk, which we stored up for our winter provision. We did not find the black-tails very palatable, and most of their flesh went to feed Castor and Pollux.

"Cudjo was the busiest of all of us. He made several household utensils which proved of great service to us. He also constructed for himself a wooden plough, which would serve every purpose--as there was a considerable portion of the ground that was without turf, and could be easily turned. This part had been covered with beautiful flowers, such as sunflowers, red and orange-coloured poppies, and asclepias. It was almost a pity to plough them up.

"With an eye to the future scarcity of our ammunition, we had begun to practise hunting with a weapon which would answer all our purposes almost as well as the rifle--still keeping the latter of course for great occasions. We had found some of the _bois d'arc_, or "Osage orange," as it is called, growing in the valley. This is the famous bow-wood of the Indians; and taking a hint from these children of Nature, we made three bows, stringing them--as the Indians do--with the sinews of the deer. For arrows, we had the straight cane-reeds; and Cudjo made us a set of barbs out of iron spikes that we had taken from the wagon. With daily practising at a mark, before the winter was over, we were all three able to use our new weapons to some purpose; and Harry, to his mother's great delight, could bring down a squirrel from the top of the highest tree in the valley. As a marksman, both with the bow and rifle, he was quite superior to Frank, who, instead of feeling jealous, seemed rather to be proud of the skill of his brother. Harry, during all the winter, kept our table loaded with partridges, squirrels--of which there were several species--hares, and wild turkeys; the last of which, being much finer than tame ones, of course we were all very fond of.

"My wife, too, added largely to the delicacies of our table. During the last days of autumn, she made several botanical excursions--of course, all of us accompanying her by way of guard--and in each of these some useful production was discovered. We found several species of wild fruits--currants, cherries, and a small fruit known as the "serviceberry," which grew in great profusion. All these fruits were gathered in quant.i.ty, and made into preserves. We obtained roots as well--one of which was the _pomme-blanche_, or Indian turnip; but the most interesting of all was the wild potato, which we dug up--for, in fact, it is only upon the table-lands of America where that plant is indigenous. We should not have recognised it as an old acquaintance, but for the botanical knowledge of my wife. Its roots were not larger than wren's eggs, and we could find so few of them that, in its wild state, we saw it would be of no use to us as an article of food. Mary, however, had hopes, that by cultivation, we might produce larger ones; so we collected all the tubers we could fall in with, and kept them for seed.

"Out of the pods of the honey-locust, we brewed a very agreeable sort of beer; but we were able to extract a still more generous beverage from the wild or fox-grapes that grew in all parts of the valley. While travelling through France, I had learnt how wine was made; and our vintage succeeded to perfection. On the winter nights, as we sat around our cheerful log-fire, Mary was accustomed to deal out to us a measure a-piece of the exhilarating drink. It was only, however, after a hard day's work or hunting, that we were allowed to draw upon this precious store.

"About this time, a new idea entered into my mind, which I communicated to the others, and with which they all fully agreed. It was this:--To capture as many of the wild animals as we could, and endeavour to domesticate them to our uses. I was prompted to this purpose by various considerations. First, because I saw, although there were several kinds of deer in the valley, there were but few of each kind; and it was not likely that for many years they had been upon the increase. Nature had so disposed it, that these creatures had been regularly thinned off every year by the numerous beasts of prey that prowled through the valley. Now, an additional enemy was added to the number of their destroyers; and I foresaw that, unless some precaution should be taken, the deer would soon become so scarce and wild, that we should find it difficult to obtain enough for our uses. Could we only kill off the fierce beasts--such as panthers, and wolves, and wolverenes--that preyed upon them, then the whole valley would become our deer-park, and the deer would soon increase to any number we wanted. This, however, we could not do; and, in fact, the beasts of prey were as likely to master us as we them--for none of us were safe in venturing into the thick woods alone; and whenever the boys made a short excursion from the glade, their mother was always in a state of anxiety until they returned. In fact, every hunt we made was attended with considerable danger, as we always fell in with the tracks of wolves, panthers, and even bears; and we frequently saw these animals skulking through the underwood. We knew that in time our powder must run out, and then our rifles would be useless to us. Our bows and arrows would then avail us but little against such thick-hided monsters as these. We only hoped that when we became better acquainted with the habits of these carnivorous creatures, we should be enabled to destroy them in traps, and thus thin them off at our leisure, and without wasting our ammunition. This, of course, would const.i.tute a branch of our employment; and, besides being a work of utility, would furnish us with an excitement not the less agreeable because it was hazardous. Could we, therefore, collect a few of the more useful animals into an enclosed park, they would soon propagate and increase; and then the trouble as well as danger which we experienced in hunting them would be at an end.

We knew that our maize-corn, yielding two crops in the year, would enable us to supply them abundantly with food.

"There was still another consideration which had its weight in these plans. I was very fond of the study of natural history--particularly that branch of it relating to quadrupeds--and I foresaw the pleasure of observing the habits of these wild creatures. We should not, therefore, confine ourselves to making 'pets' of those animals that might merely serve us for food. We should embrace in our collection all that we could subject to our rule, whether gentle or fierce. In fact, it was our intention to establish a regular 'menagerie of the Desert.'

"The main object of our industry and prospective wealth--that is, the collection of the beaver fur--would not in any way interfere with these plans. The beavers, in short, would give as very little trouble--as the drying and preserving the skins of those we should trap would only occupy us a small portion of the year.

"Harry entered with more spirit into my designs than any of the others; for Harry, like myself, was fond of quadrupeds. Frank, on the other hand, was a great bird-catcher; and recommended that we should include birds in our menagerie. To this, of course, we a.s.sented freely. Mary had her own designs already shaped out; and these were, to gather all the plants and trees that might be either curious or useful, and to observe what effect cultivation would produce upon them--in short, it was her wish to form a complete 'botanical garden.'

"To each, then, was given a separate department. Harry and I were designated 'beast-tamers;' Frank the 'bird-tamer;' while Mary was appropriately styled the 'tree-tamer.' To Cudjo was a.s.signed a very important share of the labour. He was to enclose the park for our deer, as well as the grounds for the botanic garden. He was also to make our traps and cages--all of which things Cudjo knew how to do, and how to do them well. Of course, we were to a.s.sist him, as well as each other, in carrying out our designs.

"Thus, our plans for the future were interesting to all of us. In our various pursuits, we should be enabled to employ all our idle time. We had no books, either to amuse or instruct us; but we knew that we should derive both instruction and amus.e.m.e.nt from the study of the greatest of all books--_the book of Nature_."

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

TRAPPING THE BEASTS AND BIRDS.

"Harry was the first who succeeded in making a capture; and that was a pair of grey squirrels, which he had trapped at the bottom of their tree. For these a large cage was constructed, and they soon became so tame that they would take the nuts provided for them out of our hands.

These, of course, were only idle pets; but they added much to our company and amus.e.m.e.nt, as we watched them in their antics around the bars of their cage, now springing from point to point, and now sitting monkey-like, and gnawing the nuts as they held them between their fore-paws.

"Shortly after this event, Frank became the hero of the hour; and his achievement was one of considerable importance. For some time, he had been keeping his eye upon the wild turkeys; and for the purpose of securing some of them alive, he had constructed, not far from the house, a species of penn--which is known in America by the name of 'log-trap.'

This was a very simple contrivance. It was made of split rails, such as Cudjo used for his fences; and these were placed upon one another, so as to enclose a hollow square between them. They were raised about the height of an ordinary fence from the ground, while other rails--heavy ones--were laid over the top, close enough to prevent the turkeys, should they enter, from escaping, but not so near each other as to darken the interior of the trap, and so render it forbidding in its appearance. The entrance was the main contrivance, although it was not an original idea with Frank. It was upon a plan similar to the wire cages used for trapping rats--where the rat can easily find its way in, but has not sufficient cunning to know the road out again. Precisely as the wire funnel is constructed for the rats, Frank had made one of rails for his turkeys; and waited patiently until some of them should enter it. He placed various kinds of seeds and roots within the enclosure; but several days pa.s.sed, and no birds were taken.

"After some practice, the 'bird-catcher' became able to imitate the 'gobbling' of the old c.o.c.k? so exactly that at some distance off in the woods, you could not tell but that it was one of themselves. By this means, he could call the turkeys up to the ground where he himself lay concealed; but the seeds he had baited his trap with were not sufficiently enticing, and none of them would go under the rails. At length, however, he hit upon an expedient, which was sure to succeed, if anything could. He had shot one of the turkeys with his arrows; and taking it into the trap, he carefully propped it up--so that it appeared to be still alive, and busy feeding upon his bait. He then retired to some distance; and, hiding himself among the brushwood, 'gobbled' as before. Three large birds soon made their appearance, coming cautiously through the woods. Of course, like all wild turkeys, they were down upon the ground--stalking along just like so many ostriches. At length, they came in sight of the penn, and seeing one of their own kind;-- quietly feeding, as they thought, within it--they approached fearlessly, and ran around the enclosure, seeking for an entrance. Frank lay watching all their movements; and his heart, at this moment, was thumping against his ribs. His anxiety did not long endure. The three great birds soon found the wide funnel; and, without hesitating, ran up it and appeared inside the trap. Frank sprang from his lurking-place; and, running forward, first shut up the entrance by filling it with stones. Then climbing upon the top, he slipped through between the rails; and secured the birds by tying their legs together with a stout thong of deerskin. When he had lifted them out of the trap, he again adjusted everything--leaving the 'decoy turkey' quietly feeding as before--and shouldering his prize, he marched off in triumph. His return to the house was greeted with exclamations of joy; and a rail penn was immediately built for the birds, similar to the trap in which they had been caught, but, of course, without the funnel or entrance.

The only regret we had was, that the three were all c.o.c.ks--regular 'old gobblers.'

"Next day, however, Frank remedied this by making a still more important capture. On returning to visit his trap before sunrise, he saw from a distance that there was a live turkey inside, with a number of smaller birds, which in the grey light appeared like so many partridges. On getting nearer, to his surprise and delight, he found that what he had taken for partridges was a large brood of young turkeys, and that which he had first seen was their mother. The little ones were running out and in, for they could easily pa.s.s between the rails, while the mother ran around, thrusting her head out of the penn, and occasionally spreading her wings and flapping upwards, endeavouring to escape in that direction. The young were all making a great ado, and evidently aware that their mother was 'in the trap.'

"Frank, fearing that the youngsters might get off if he attempted to approach them alone, came back to the house, and summoned Harry, Cudjo, and myself, to his a.s.sistance. To make sure of them, we took with us the long canva.s.s tilt of the wagon with a couple of blankets fastened to it at the end. We adopted every precaution, as we looked upon capturing this young brood as a thing of great importance--since we could bring them up quite domesticated, and from them should breed as many more as we pleased. We approached the penn with all due caution; and when near we separated, each of us taking a side. We then advanced upon the trap, completely surrounding it; and, while the birds ran confusedly from side to side, we stretched the tilt and blankets all around the penn, thus cutting off their retreat. In a few moments we had secured both the old hen and her chicks--amounting, in all, to no less than eighteen of them!

This was a capture, indeed; and we immediately hurried back to the house with them, not forgetting to take along with us the 'decoy turkey'--which, being a fine fat fellow, and killed only the day before, served us for a very good dinner. For the turkey hen and young we built another penn, near to that where we had imprisoned the three 'old gobblers.' The one last constructed was made with more care and closer between the rails, so that the youngsters might not get out and wander off.

"Frank again baited his log-trap, and used for a decoy one of the gobblers, which he tied by the leg to a rail. In this way several others were caught; when the birds at length became shy, and kept away from the penn altogether. However, we had now as many as we could feed, until our corn should ripen and be gathered.

"From this time every day saw new additions to our aviary. Frank had procured the bark of the _ilex opaca_, or American holly; and this, when macerated in water, and then fermented and cleared of its fibres, made the very best bird-lime. A large cage had been constructed out of bow-wood with the straight reeds of the cane, and divided into many compartments--so that birds of different species should be separated from each other. In a short time the cage was seen to contain specimens of the blue-jay and red-bird, or Virginia nightingale, orioles of several species, and doves of two distinct kinds. There were also several Carolina paroquets; and Frank had succeeded in capturing a bird of a very rare kind, which, I believe, is known to the Indians as the 'wakon.' It was the American bird of paradise; and, like those of the Eastern world, had several long feathers growing from its tail, and stretching away gracefully behind it. In the cage were also finches of different varieties, and beautiful bright plumage. Among others were the green bird, the redstart, and the c.o.c.k of the woods; the little blue bird also, the red-winged starring, and the orange-headed troupiale-- which last species migrated in large flocks into the valley. There was a number of small cages, which had been constructed for the smallest of all birds--the humming-birds--and Frank had caught no less than a dozen different kinds of these most beautiful creatures, which he daily supplied with fresh flowers. Another cage, apart from all the rest, held an inmate that; so far as appearance went, you would have said had no right to be thus distinguished in having a house all to himself. He was of a sober grey colour, somewhat of the wagtail shape, with long black legs, and claws of a dirty hue; and was altogether an ill-favoured bird, not any better-looking than a common house-sparrow. Had you known nothing more about him than his outward appearance, you would hardly have deigned to waste a second look upon him. The moment, however, his black bill was opened, and his lead-coloured throat became expanded in a song, you forgot all about the dull hue of his plumage. You all at once forgot the bright wings of the paroquet, and the beautiful form of the oriole; the red-bird, the blue-jay, and the wakon, were alike forgotten, and you gazed upon this sweet musician with delight and admiration. As you continued to listen, you would notice that he mimicked almost every sound that occurred within hearing. When any of the others commenced to sing, he would catch the strain--as it were, from their lips--and, giving it in a far higher and bolder tone, shame them into silence.

This, I need hardly tell you, was the famous mock-bird--the nightingale of America.

"While Frank was daily increasing his stock of winged creatures, Harry was not idle among the quadrupeds. No less than five kinds of squirrels had been caught and caged. These were the grey, black, and red or fox varieties of the tree squirrel, and two species of ground squirrel--one the common hackee, or chipping squirrel; while the other was a new species, which we had caught on the desert plain above, among the roots of the _artemisia_ plant. This last was a beautiful little creature, not much larger than a mouse, and striped like a little zebra. It has never--as far as I can tell--been described by naturalists; and on this account, as well as from its peculiar size and beauty, it was a general favourite with all of us, particularly with Luisa and Mary, in whose laps it soon learnt to sleep, like a tamed mouse.

"Besides the squirrels, Harry's collection embraced a hare and a couple of racc.o.o.ns. These last were the produce of a night-hunt or two which Cudjo had made with the dogs; and although these fox-like animals were by no means useful pets, yet they gave a variety to our collection, and added to our amus.e.m.e.nt in the observation of their curious habits."

CHAPTER THIRTY.