Roland Cashel, Volume I (of II)

From the evident attention bestowed by the two sisters, it was clear that Cashel was narrating something of interest, for he spoke of an event which had happened to himself in his prairie life; and this alone, independent of all else, was enough to make the theme amusing.

“Does this convey any idea of a prairie, Mr. Cashel?” said Miss Kennyfeck, as they emerged from a grove of beech-trees, and came upon the wide and stretching plain, so well known to Dubliners as the Fifteen Acres, but which is, in reality, much greater in extent. “I have always fancied this great grassy expanse must be like a prairie.”

“About as like as yonder cattle to a herd of wild buffaloes,” replied Roland, smiling.

“Then what is a prairie like? Do tell us,” said Olivia, eagerly.

“I can scarcely do so, nor, if I were a painter, do I suppose that I could make a picture of one, because it is less the presence than the total absence of all features of landscape that constitutes the wild and lonely solitude of a prairie. But fancy a great plain – gently – very gently undulating, – not a tree, not a shrub, not a stream to break the dreary uniformity; sometimes, but even that rarely, a little muddy pond of rain-water, stagnant and yellow, is met with, but only seen soon after heavy showers, for the hot sun rapidly absorbs it. The only vegetation a short yellowed burnt-up grass, – not a wild flower or a daisy, if you travelled hundreds of hundreds of miles. On you go, days and days, but the scene never changes. Large cloud shadows rest upon the barren expanse, and move slowly and sluggishly away, or sometimes a sharp and pelting shower is borne along, traversing hundreds of miles in its course; but these are the only traits of motion in the death-like stillness. At last, perhaps after weeks of wandering, you descry, a long way off, some dark objects dotting the surface, – these are buffaloes; or at sunset, when the thin atmosphere makes everything sharp and distinct, some black spectral shapes seem to glide between you and the red twilight, – these are Indian hunters, seen miles off, and by some strange law of nature they are presented to the vision when far, far beyond the range of sight. Such strange apparitions, the consequence of refraction, have led to the most absurd superstitions; and all the stories the Germans tell you of their wild huntsmen are nothing to the tales every trapper can recount of war parties seen in the air, and tribes of red men in pursuit of deer and buffaloes, through the clear sky of an autumn evening.”

“And have you yourself met with these wild children of the desert?” said Olivia; “have you ever been amongst them?”

“Somewhat longer than I fancied,” replied Roland, smiling. “I was a prisoner once with the Camanches.”

“Oh, let us hear all about it, – how did it happen?” cried both together.

“It happened absurdly enough, at least you will say so, when I tell you; but to a prairie-hunter the adventure would seem nothing singular. It chanced that some years ago I made one of a hunting-party into the Rocky Mountains, and finally as far as Pueblo Santo, the last station before entering the hunting-grounds of the Camanches, a very fierce tribe, and one with whom all the American traders have failed to establish any relations of friendship or commerce. They care nothing for the inventions of civilization, and, unlike all other Indians, prefer their own bows and arrows to firearms.

“We had been now four days within their boundary, and yet never met one of the tribe. Some averred that they always learned by the scouts whenever any invasion took place, and retired till they were in sufficient force to pour down and crush the intruders. Others, who proved better informed, said that they were hunting in a remote tract, several days’ journey distant. We were doubly disappointed, for besides not seeing the Camanches, for which we had a great curiosity, we did not discover any game. The two or three trails we followed led to nothing, nor could a hoof-track be seen for miles and miles of prairie. In this state of discomfiture, we were sitting one evening around our fires, and debating with ourselves whether to turn back or go on, when, the dispute waxing warm between those of different opinions, I, who hated all disagreements of the kind, slipped quietly away, and throwing the bridle on my horse, I set out for a solitary ramble over the prairie.

“I have the whole scene before me this instant, – the solemn desolation of that dreary track; for scarcely had I gone a mile over what seemed a perfectly level plain, when the swelling inequalities of the ground shut out the watch-fires of my companions, and now there was nothing to be seen but the vast expanse of land and sky, each colored with the same dull leaden tint of coming night; no horizon was visible, not a star appeared, and in the midst of this gray monotony, a stillness prevailed that smote the heart with something more appalling than mere fear. No storm that ever I listened to at sea, not the loudest thunder that ever crashed, or the heaviest sea that ever broke upon a leeward shore at midnight, ever chilled my blood like that terrible stillness. I thought that the dreadful roll of an avalanche or the heaving ground-swell of an earthquake had been easier to bear. I believe I actually prayed for something like sound to relieve the horrible tension of my nerves, when, just as if my wish was heard, a low booming sound, like the sea within a rocky cavern, came borne along on the night wind. Then it lulled again, and after a time grew louder. This happened two or three times, so that, half suspecting some self-delusion, I stopped my ears, and then on removing my hands, I heard the noise increasing till it swelled into one dull roaring sound, that made the very air vibrate. I thought it must be an earthquake, of which it is said many occur in these regions, but, from the dreary uniformity, leave no trace behind.

“I resolved to regain my companions at once; danger is always easier to confront in company, and so I turned my horse’s head to go back. The noise was now deafening, and so stunning that the very ground seemed to give it forth. My poor horse became terrified, his flanks heaved, and he labored in his stride as if overcome by fatigue. This again induced me to suspect an earthquake, for I knew by what singular instincts animals are apprised of its approach. I therefore gave him the spur, and urged him on with every effort, when suddenly he made a tremendous bound to one side, and set off with the speed of a racer. Stretched to his fullest stride, I was perfectly powerless to restrain him; meanwhile, the loud thundering sounds filled the entire air, – more deafening than the greatest artillery; the crashing uproar smote my ears, and made my brain ring with the vibration, and then suddenly the whole plain grew dark behind and at either side of me, the shadow swept on and on, nearer and nearer, as the sounds increased, till the black surface seemed, as it were, about to close around me; and now I perceived that the great prairie, far as my eyes could stretch, was covered by a herd of wild buffaloes; struck by some sudden terror, they had taken what is called ‘the Stampedo,’ and set out at full speed. In an instant they were around me on every side, – a great moving sea of dark-backed monsters, – roaring in terrible uproar, and tossing their savage heads wildly to and fro, in all the paroxysm of terror. To return, or even to extricate myself, was impossible; the dense mass pressed like a wall at either side of me, and I was borne along in the midst of the heaving herd, without the slightest hope of rescue. I cannot – you would not ask me, if even I could – recall the terrors of that dreadful night, which in its dark hours compassed the agonies of years. Until the moon got up, I hoped that the herd might pass on, and at last leave me at liberty behind; but when she rose, and I looked back, I saw the dark sea of hides, as if covering the whole wide prairie, while the deep thunder from afar mingled with the louder bellowing of the herd around me.

“I suppose my reeling brain became maddened by the excitement; for even yet, when by any accident I suffer slight illness, terrible fancies of that dreadful scene come back; and I have been told that, in my wild cries and shouts, I seem encouraging and urging on the infuriate herd, and by my gestures appearing to control and direct their headlong course. Had it been possible, I believe I should have thrown myself to the earth and sought death at once, even in this dreadful form, than live to die the thousand deaths of agony that night inflicted; but this could not be, and so, as day broke, I was still carried on, not, indeed, with the same speed as before; weariness weighed on the vast moving mass, but the pressure of those behind still drove them onward. I thought the long hours of darkness were terrible; and the appalling gloom of night added tortures to my sufferings; but the glare of daylight, the burning sun, and the clouds of dust were still worse. I remember, too, when exhaustion had nearly spent my last frail energy, and when my powerless hands, letting fall the bridle, dropped heavily to my side, that the herd suddenly halted, – halted, as if arrested by some gigantic hand; and then the pressure became so dreadful that my bones seemed almost bursting from my flesh, and I screamed aloud in my agony. After this, I remember little else. The other events of that terrible ride are like the shadowy spectres of a magic lantern; vague memories of sufferings, pangs that even yet chill my blood, steal over me, but unconnected and incoherent, so that when, as I afterwards heard, the herd dashed into the Camanche encampment, I have no recollection of anything, except the terror-struck faces of the red men, as they bent before me, and seemed to worship me as a deity. Yes, this terrible tribe, who had scarcely ever been known to spare a white man, not only did not injure, but they treated me with the tenderest care and attention. A singular incident had favored me. One of the wise men had foretold some days before that a herd of wild buffaloes, sent by their god, Anadongu, would speedily appear, and rescue the tribe from the horrors of impending starvation. The prediction was possibly based upon some optical delusion, like that I have mentioned. Whatever its origin, the accomplishment was hailed with ecstasy; and I myself, a poor, almost dying creature, stained with blood, crushed and speechless, was regarded as their deliverer and preserver.”

“How long did you remain amongst them?” cried Miss Kennyfeck.

“And how did you escape?” asked Olivia.

“Were they always equally kind?”

“Were you sorry to leave them?” were the questions rapidly poured in ere Cashel could reply to any one of them.

“I have often heard,” said Miss Kennyfeck, “that the greater mental ability of the white man is certain to secure him an ascendancy over the minds of savage tribes, and that, if he be spared at first, he is sure in the end to become their chief.”

“I believe they actually worship any display of intelligence above their own,” said Olivia.

“These are exaggerated accounts,” said Cashel, smiling. “Marriage is, among savage as among civilized nations, a great stepping-stone to eminence. When a white man is allied with a princess – ”

“Oh, how shocking!” cried both together. “I’m sure no person, anything akin to a gentleman, could dream of such a thing,” said Miss Kennyfeck.

“It happens now and then, notwithstanding,” said Cashel, with a most provoking gravity.

While the sisters would have been well pleased had Cashel’s personal revelations continued on this theme, they did not venture to explore so dangerous a path, and were both silent. Roland, too, appeared buried in some recollection of the past, for he rode on for some time without speaking, – a preoccupation on his part which seemed in no wise agreeable to his fair companions.

“There are the MacFarlines, Livy,” said Miss Kennyfeck; “and Linton, and Lord Charles, and the rest of them. I declare, I believe they see us, and are coming this way.”

“What a bore! Is there no means of escape? Mr. Cashel, pray invent one.”

“I beg pardon. What was it you said? I have been dreaming for the last three minutes.”

“Pleasant dreams I ‘m certain they were,” said Miss Kennyfeck, with a very significant smile; “evoked, doubtless, by some little memory of your life among the Cainanches.”

Cashel started and grew red, while his astonishment rendered him speechless.

“Here they come; how provoking!” exclaimed Livy.

“Who are coming?”

“Some friends of ours, who, strange to say, have the misfortune to be peculiarly disagreeable to my sister Livy to-day, although I have certainly seen Lord Charles contrive to make his company less distasteful at other times.”

“Oh, my dear Caroline, you know perfectly well – ” broke in Olivia, with a tone of unfeigned reproach.

“Let us ride for it, then,” said Miss Kepnyfeck, without permitting her to finish. “Now, Mr. Cashel, a canter, – a gallop, if you will.”

“Quite ready,” said Cashel, his animation at once returning at the bare mention; and away they set, down a gentle slope with wooded sides, then they gained another grassy plain, skirted with trees, at the end of which a small picturesque cottage stood, the residence of a ranger; passing this, they arrived at a thick wood, and then slackened their pace, as all pursuit might be deemed fruitless. This portion of the park, unlike the rest, seemed devoted to various experiments in agriculture and gardening. Here were little enclosed plots of Indian corn and Swedish turnips; here, small plantations of fruit trees. Each succeeding secretary seemed to have left behind him some trace of his own favorite system for the improvement of Ireland, and one might recall the names of long-departed officials in little experimental specimens of drainage, or fencing, or drill culture around. Less interested by these patchwork devices, Cashel stood gazing on a beautiful white bull, who grazed in a little paddock carefully fenced by a strong oak paling. Although of a small breed, he was a perfect specimen of strength and proportion, his massive and muscular neck and powerful loins contrasting with the lanky and tendinous form of the wild animal of the prairies.

The girls had not remarked that Roland, beckoning to his servant, despatched him at full speed on an errand, for each was loitering about, amusing herself with some object of the scene.

“What has fascinated you yonder?” said Miss Kennyfeck, riding up to where Roland still stood in wondering admiration at the noble animal.

“The handsomest bull I ever saw!” cried he, in all the ecstasy of a ‘Torero;’ “who ever beheld such a magnificent fellow? Mark the breadth of his chest, and the immense fore-arm. See how he lashes his tail about. No need of bandilleros to rouse your temper.”.

“Is there no danger of the creature springing over the paling?” said Olivia, drawing closer to Cashel, and looking at him with a most trustful dependence.

Alas for Roland’s gallantry, he answered the words and not the glance that accompanied them.

“No; he’d never think of it, if not excited to some excess of passion. I ‘d not answer for his patience, or our safety either, if really provoked. See! is not that glorious?” This burst of enthusiasm was called forth by the bull, seized with some sudden caprice, taking a circuit of the paddock at full speed, his head now raised majestically aloft, and now bent to the ground; he snatched some tufts of the grass as he went, and flung them from him in wild sport.

“Bravo, toro!” cried Cashel, in all the excitement of delight and admiration. “Viva el toro!” shouted he. “Not a ‘Corrida’ of the Old World or the New ever saw a braver beast.”

Whether in compliance with his humor, or that she really caught up the enthusiasm from Cashel, Miss Kennyfeck joined in all his admiration, and seemed to watch the playful pranks of the great animal with delight.

“How you would enjoy a real ‘toro machia!’” said Cashel, as he turned towards her, and felt that she was far handsomer than he had ever believed before. Indeed, the heightened color of exercise, and the flashing brilliancy of her eyes, made her seem so without the additional charm derived from sympathy with his humor.

“I should delight in it,” cried she, with enthusiasm. “Oh, if I could but see one!”

Cashel drew nearer as she spoke, his dark and piercing eyes fixed with a look of steadfast admiration, when in a low half-whisper he said, “Would you really like it? Have these wild and desperate games an attraction for you?”

“Oh, do not ask me,” said she, in the same low voice. “Why should I confess a wish for that which never can be.”

“How can you say that? Have not far greater and less likely things happened to almost all of us? Think of me, for instance. Travelling with the Gambusinos a few months back, and now – now your companion here.”

If there was not a great deal in the mere words themselves, there was enough in the look of the speaker to make them deeply felt. How much further Cashel might have adventured, and with what additional speculations invested the future, is not for us to say; for just then his groom rode up at speed, holding in his hands a great coil of rope, to one end of which a small round ball of wood was fastened.

“What is that for, Mr. Cashel?” inquired both the girls together, as they saw him adjust the coils lightly on his left arm, and poise the ball in his right hand.

“Cannot you guess what it means?” said Roland, smiling. “Have you never heard of a lasso?”

“A lasso!” exclaimed both in amazement “You surely could never intend – ”

“You shall see,” cried he, as he made three or four casts with the rope in the air, and caught up the loops again with astonishing dexterity. “Now only promise me not to be afraid, nor, if possible, let a cry escape, and I’ll show you some rare sport Just take your places here; the horses will stand perfectly quiet.” Without waiting for a reply, he ordered the grooms to remain at either side of the young ladies, and then dismounting, he forced open the lock and led his horse into the paddock. This done, he leisurely closed the gate and mounted, every motion being as free from haste and excitement as if made upon the high-road. As for the bull, at the noise of the gate on its hinges, he lifted up his head; but as it were indifferent to the cause, he resumed his grazing attitude the moment after.

Cashel’s first care seemed to be to reconnoitre the ground; for at a slow walk he traversed the space in various directions, carefully examining the footing and watching for any accidental circumstance that might vary the surface. He then rode up to the paling, where in unfeigned terror the two girls sat, silently following him in every motion.

“Now, remember,” said he, smiling, “no fears, no terrors. If you were to make me nervous, I should probably miss my cast, and the disgrace, not to speak of anything else, would be dreadful.”

“Oh, we ‘ll behave very well,” said Miss Kennyfeck, trying to assume a composure that her pale cheek and compressed lips very ill corroborated. As for Olivia, too terrified for words, she merely looked at him, while the tears rolled heavily down her cheeks.

“Now, to see if my hand has not forgot its cunning!” said Roland, as he pressed his horse’s flanks, and, pushing into a half-gallop, made a circuit around the bull. The scene was a picturesque as well as an exciting one. The mettlesome horse, on which the rider sat with consummate ease; in his right hand the loose coils of the lasso, with which to accustom his horse he flourished and shook around the head and ears of the animal as he went; while, with head bent down, and the strong neck slightly retracted, the bull seemed to watch him as he passed, and at length, slowly turning, continued to fix his eyes upon the daring intruder. Gradually narrowing his circle, Cashel was cautiously approaching within a suitable distance for the cast, when the bull, as it were losing patience, gave one short hoarse cry and made at him, so sudden the spring, and so infuriate the action, that a scream from both the sisters together showed how near the danger must have appeared. Roland, however, had foreseen from the attitude of the beast what was coming, and by a rapid wheel escaped the charge, and passed close beside the creature’s flank, unharmed. Twice or thrice the same manouvre occurred with the same result; and although the horse was terrified to that degree that his sides were one sheet of foam, the control of the rider was perfect, and his every gesture bespoke ease and confidence.

Suddenly the bull stopped, and retiring till his haunches-touched the paling, he seemed surveying the field, and contemplating another and more successful mode of attack. The concentrated passion of the creature’s attitude at this moment was very fine, as with red eyeballs and frothed lips he stood, slowly and in heavy strokes lashing his flanks with his long tail.

“Is he tired?” said Miss Kennyfeck, as Cashel stood close to the paling, and breathed his horse, for what he foresaw might be a sharp encounter.

“No! far from it,” answered Roland; “the fellow has the cunning of an old ‘Corridor;’ you ‘ll soon see him attack.”

The words were not well uttered, when, with a low deep roar, the bull bounded forward, not in a straight line, however, but zigzagging from left to right, and right to left, as if with the intention of pinning the horseman into a corner. The terrific springs of the great beast, and his still more terrific cries, appeared to paralyze the horse, who stood; immovable, nor was it till the savage animal had approached within a few yards of him, that at last he reared up straight, and then, as if overcome by terror, dashed off at speed, the bull following.

The scene was now one of almost maddening excitement; for, although the speed of the horse far exceeded that of his pursuer, the bull, by taking a small circle, was rapidly gaining on him, and, before the third circuit of the field was made, was actually almost side by side. Roland saw all his danger; he knew well that the slightest swerve, a “single mistake,” would be fatal; but he had been trained to peril, and this was not the first time he had played for life and won. It was then, just at the instant when the bull, narrowing his distance, was ready, by one bound, to drive his horns into the horse’s flank, that the youth suddenly reined up, and throwing the horse nearly on his haunches, suffered his pursuer to shoot ahead. The same instant, at least so it seemed, he rose in his stirrups, and winding the rope three or four times above his head, hurled it forth. Away went the floating coils through the air, and with a sharp snap, they caught the animal’s fore-legs in their fast embrace. Maddened by the restraint, he plunged forward, but ere he gained the ground, a dexterous pull of the lasso jerked the legs backwards, and the huge beast fell floundering to the earth. The stunning force seemed enough to have extinguished life, and he lay, indeed, motionless for a few seconds, when, by a mighty effort, he strove to burst his bonds. Roland, meanwhile, after a severe struggle to induce his horse to approach, abandoned the effort, sprang to the ground, and by three or four adroit turns of the lasso over the head and between the horns, completely fettered him, and at each fresh struggle passing new turns of the rope, he so bound him that the creature lay panting and powerless, his quivering sides and distended nostrils breathing the deep rage that possessed him.

“Ah, Mosquito mio,” – the Toridor’s usual pet name for a young bull, – “you were an easy victory after all, though I believe with a little more practice of the game I should only get off second best.”

There was, if we must confess it, a certain little bit of boastfulness in the speech, the truth being that the struggle, though brief, had been a sharp one, and so Cashel’s air and look bespoke it, as he led his horse out of the paddock.

It would be a somewhat nice point – happily, it is not requisite to decide it – whether Roland was more flattered by the enthusiastic praise of the elder sister, or touched by the silent but eloquent look with which Olivia received him.

“What a splendid sight, what a noble achievement!” said Miss Kennyfeck. “How I thank you for thus giving me, as it were, a peep into Spain, and letting me feel the glorious enthusiasm a deed of heroism can inspire!”