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<h3>Chapter One Hundred Four.</h3> <h4>Un Paraiso.</h4> We come to the closing act of our drama. To understand it fully, it is necessary that the setting of the stage—the mise-en-scène—be described with a certain degree of minuteness. The little valley-plain, or vallon, in which we had cachéd ourselves, was not over three hundred yards in length, and of an elliptical form. But for this form, it might have resembled some ancient crater scooped out of the mountain, that on all sides swept upward around it. The sides of this mountain, trending up from the level of the plain, rose not with a gentle acclivity, but with precipitous abruptness. At no point, however, did it assume the character of a cliff. It might have been scaled with difficulty by a man on foot, especially should he avail himself of the assistance of the trees—pines and trailing junipers—that grew over the steep so thickly as to conceal the greater portion of its rocky façade. Here and there only, a bare spot might be observed—a little buttress of white laminated gypsum, mingled with sparkling selenite; while at other places a miniature torrent, leaping over the rocks, and dancing among the dark cedars, presented a very similar appearance. These little torrents, plashing down to the plain, formed numerous crystal rills that traversed the vallon. Like the branches of a silver candelabrum, all united near its centre, and there formed a pellucid stream, that, sweeping onward, discharged itself through the ravine into Robideau’s Pass. The effect of this abundance of water had been to produce within the vallon a proportionate luxuriance of vegetation, though it had not assumed the form of a forest. A few handsome cotton-woods, standing thinly over it, were the only trees; but the surface exhibited a verdure of emerald brightness enamelled by many a gay corolla—born to blush unseen within this sweet secluded glen. Along the edge of the rivulet, large water-plants projected their broad leaves languidly over the stream; and where the little cascades came down from the rocks, the flowers of beautiful orchids, and other rare epiphytes, were seen sparkling under the spray—many of them clinging to the coniferae, and thus uniting almost the extreme types of the botanical world! Such lovely landscape was presented to our eyes in the “bolson” into which our trapper-guide had conducted us. It appeared lovely as we first beheld it—under the blue light of dawn; but lovelier far, when the sun began to tinge the summits of the Mojada Mountains that encircled it, and scatter his empurpled roses on the snowy peaks of the Wa-to-yah—just visible through the gorge. “Esta un Paraiso!” (It is a Paradise!) exclaimed the Mexican, warming with the poetry of his race. “En verdad un Paraiso! Even better peopled than the Paradise of old. Mira! cavalleros!” continued he. “Behold! not one Eve, but two! each, I daresay, as beautiful as the mother of mankind!” As the trapper spoke, he pointed to the young girls, who, hand-in-hand, were returning from the stream—where they had been performing their ablutions. The spots of allegria had disappeared from the cheeks of Marian, that now gleamed in all their crimson picturesqueness. It was for Wingrove to admire these. My own eyes were riveted upon the roseate blonde; and, gazing upon her face, I could not help echoing the sentiment of the enthusiastic speaker: “Beautiful as the mother of mankind!” Wingrove and I had been to the lavatory before them; and had succeeded to a certain extent in scouring our skins clear of the vermilion bedaubment. In the anticipation of this pleasant interview, it was natural we should seek to rescue ourselves from a disguise, that the eye of woman could not look upon otherwise than with dégout. It was natural, too, we should desire those clasped hands to come asunder—those maiden forms to be separated from one another? Fortune was pleased to respond to our wishes. A flower hanging from the branch of a tree at that moment caught the eye of Lilian; and, dropping her sister’s hand, she hastened to gather it. Marian, who cared less for flowers, did not follow her. Perhaps her inclination tempted her the other way? But one did follow the fair Lilian—unable to resist the opportunity for free converse—the only one that had offered since that first sweet interview. How my heart bounded, when I beheld the blossom of the bignonia; for it was that which hung drooping from the branch of the cotton-wood, round which its bright leaves were amorously entwining! How it swelled with a triumphant joy, when I saw those tiny fingers, extend towards the Sower, gently pluck it from its stem, and place it upon my bosom! Talk not of bliss, if it be not this! We strayed on through the straggling trees, along the banks of the stream, by the edges of the little rills. We wandered around the vallon, and stood by the torrents that fell foaming from the rocks. We mingled our voices with the waters, that in low murmurings appeared to repeat the sentiment so endeared to us, “I think of thee!” “And you will, Lilian—you will always thus think of me?” “Yes, Edward!—for ever and ever!” Was the kiss unhallowed that could seal such promise? No—it was sacred— Down to Earth’s profound, And up to Heaven! Thus benighted with the sweet hallucination of love, how could we dream that on earth there existed an alloy? How suspect that into that smiling garden the dread serpent could ever intrude himself? Alas! he was at that moment approaching it—he was already near! The place we had chosen for our temporary bivouac—and where we had passed the night—was at the upper extremity of the little valley, and close in to the cliff. We had selected this spot, from the ground being a little more elevated than the general surface, and in consequence drier. Several cotton-wood trees shaded it; and it was further sheltered by a number of large boulders of rock, that, having fallen from the cliff above, lay near its base. Behind these boulders, the men of our party had slept—not from any idea of the greater security afforded by them, but simply from a delicate motive—being thus separated from the chamber occupied by our fair protégées. It had never occurred to us that our place of concealment could be discovered in the night; and, even long after the day had arisen, so confident did we continue in our fancied security, that we had taken no precautions—neither to reconnoitre the cliffs in search of away of retreat, nor to adopt any means of defence in the event of our being assailed. As far as Wingrove and I were concerned, I have explained this negligence, for it was negligence of the most imprudent character. The Mexican, feeling quite certain that he had succeeded in blinding our trail, was perhaps less cautious than he might otherwise have been; and Sure-shot equally trusted to his new comrade, for whose still the ex-ranger had conceived an exalted opinion. I could see withal that Archilete was not without some apprehension. He had buckled on his artificial leg—the real one having become fatigued by pressing too long on the stirrup; and, as he hobbled over the ground, I noticed that from time to time he cast inquiring glances down the valley. Observing these signs of impatience more than once, I began to grow uneasy. Prudence required that even that sweet scene should be interrupted—only temporality, I hoped—until some plan should be adopted, that would render us more secure against the contingency of our being discovered. With my fair companion, I had turned away from the sweet whisperings of the cascade, and was facing to the upper end of the vallon—when, all at once, I observed a strange manoeuvre on the part of “Peg-leg.” The trapper had thrown himself flat upon the grass; and with his ear placed close to the ground, appeared to listen. The movement was too significant not to attract the attention of everybody. My companion was the only one who did not comprehend it; but she observed that it had powerfully affected all the others; and an ejaculation of alarm escaped her, as she saw them hastening up to the place occupied by the prostrate trapper. Before we could arrive on the spot, the man had sprung back into an erect attitude; and, as he stamped his timber leg with violence upon the ground, was heard to exclaim: “Carrambo, camarados! The curs are upon our trail! Oiga los?—el perro—el perro!” (You hear them?—the dog—the dog!) The words were scarcely out of his mouth when their interpretation was given in the sound that came pealing up the valley. Borne upon the sighing breeze, it was heard above the rushing noise of the waters—easily heard, and as easily understood. It was the bay of a dog, who ran “growling” along a trail! Its deep tone was even identified. The huntress recognised it in the first note that fell upon her ear—as was evidenced by her quick exclamation: “Wolf! my dog Wolf!” The speech had scarcely escaped her, before the dog himself made his appearance, convincing us all of his identity. The animal, seeing us, ran no longer by the scent; but with raised snout came galloping across the valley, and bounded forward to receive the caresses of his mistress. We rushed to our weapons; and, having grasped them, ran behind the boulders of rock. It would have been idle to have taken to our horses. If our pursuers were following the dog, and guided by him, they would already be near enough to intercept our retreat from the vallon? Perhaps they were at that moment in the gorge? We had but one hope; and that was, that the dog might be alone. Missing Marian at the camp, he might have struck upon her trail, and been running upon it throughout the night! This seemed scarcely probable: for Holt could have detained him; and in all likelihood would have done so? Still less probable did it appear, as we watched the movements of the dog himself. Instead of staying by Marian, and continuing to receive her caresses, we noticed that at short intervals he ran off again, making demonstration in the direction he had come—as if in expectation of some one who was following at his heels! The slight hope we had conceived was quickly and rudely crushed, by the confirmation of this fact. The voices of men, echoing hoarsely through the gorge, confirmed it! Beyond doubt, they were our pursuers, guided by the dog—who little comprehended the danger he was thus conducting towards the object of his instinctive affections! <hr /></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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