Part 14 (1/2)

The precaution of marking the place where he had sunk the rod was for the purpose of systematizing the search, thus avoiding confusion. In fact, these careful details were but an indication of the practical nature of the young Fortune Hunter, which, even on this weird night, strongly a.s.serted its sway.

While the leaves murmured and whispered, as if striving to tell of the tragedies that had marred this spot--of the mystery that seemed to haunt the very air around--Clifford still pursued his investigations, patiently and in silence, only pausing to draw a deeper breath or a sigh of disappointment at each fruitless effort, as he toiled onward into the deep shadows near the bank of the stream.

At length, tired and weary, our young friend stood on the verge of the stream over the bank of which the dank gra.s.s trailed, and the rank vine of the wild-gourd, with its silvery leaves, rioted in wildest luxuriance and profusion.

Glancing up through the branches of the h.o.a.ry old cottonwood, he could see the glittering constellation of Scorpio far out on the south-western horizon, the fiery star Antares, which forms its heart, glowing like a ruby in the blue vault of heaven.

For a moment Clifford rested on the handle of the deep-sunken instrument, and, lifting his heavy felt hat with its leathern band--a badge of the ranchman throughout all the West--he drew a deep breath of the cool air that swayed the wild hop-vines and pendulous branches of the willows to and fro in the moonlight.

Around, a thousand wild-flowers distilled their odors. The sensitive-plant nodded softly in dew-drenched sprays, its rosy b.a.l.l.s flecked with drops that glinted like gems, while all the air was heavy with its perfume of spices and honey.

The foamy elder-blooms exhaled an odor of entrancing sweetness, and over the senses stole the fragrance from pond-lilies and water-mint, wild-hyacinths and mignonette.

A large prairie-owl flitted by, lending a note of discord to the tranquillity which had reigned, with its dismal hoot, that mellowed away into a plaintive shriek as it lit in some far-off, sombre nook.

Then again silence brooded over the valley, broken only by the croak of frogs along the rush-lined sh.o.r.e, or the soft chirp of insects in the gra.s.s; but suddenly the jabbering wail of a lone wolf, distant yet distinct, pierced through the gloom, startling into silence all the minor voices of the night, and adding with its wild echoes a double sense of loneliness to the weird night.

Clifford turned to the iron rod, and with a few vigorous efforts sent it deep into the yielding earth; and as the quiet of nature once more reigned over the wild glade, he kept turning the handle mechanically, and listening to the gruesome sound of the answering wolves--faint cries that made him shudder--when, lo! the steel point grated harshly against some obstruction beneath his feet.

Quickly withdrawing the rod, he seized the sharp spade and began digging, throwing the black soil out of the pit with frantic haste as he sank rapidly down into the earth at each stroke. As he neared the goal he became dizzy and faint, his breath coming in quick gasps, and the blinding sweat streaming from his face, from which it fell in great drops like rain.

Pausing a moment, while the weird, horned moon peered through a rift in the boughs overhead, and gleamed coldly on his upturned, haggard face, he thought of the wealth that might lie below,--his father's lost fortune; the wealth of Monteluma; its gems and red gold, with all the power that great treasure represented; then, quivering with excitement, he dashed the spade into the earth, and in a moment more the head of a cask was dimly outlined at his feet.

Breathless and panting, he paused, leaning on his spade, while the hopes and fears, which so often, often, a.s.sail us on the threshold of some great enterprise, came thronging on with their mockery, causing him to stand irresolute, as if fearing to solve the mystery; but at length, after summoning all his strength, he struck the cask with his sharp spade, and the head fell in with a dull crash.

As he stooped to peer down into the gloom below, a pair of fiery eyes glared at him from the cavity, and, as he sprang back with a shudder, a sharp, whizzing rattle in the cask announced the presence of that dread reptile, the rattlesnake--a new and terrible danger, worse than the sting of poverty with all its terrors.

As Clifford stood frozen with horror, the slimy monster rose from out the cask, still sounding its angry alarm. A moment more, enraged and writhing, it coiled at his feet, its head erected, slowly swaying to and fro--a gigantic, threatening monster.

Its eyes glowed like coals of fire, and in the bright light shed by the lantern Clifford could see it darting its tongue and glaring with a look of indescribable ferocity and malignant hatred, to which nothing else in the world can be compared. Those who have faced an angry rattlesnake, and who still turn pale at its remembrance, or start from sleep with a cry of fear at the returning vision of terrible danger, will recall the awful rage and menace that glared from the eye of the angry serpent--a glance that unnerves the bravest man in the world instantly. The reptile only seemed to await a motion on Clifford's part to strike like a flash of lightning. Then, with a clammy shudder, young Warlow thought of the agony and speedy death that was certain to follow. At the tremor which involuntarily shook his frame at the thought, the hideous serpent crested its head and paused in its vibrations. ”Now all is over,” our young friend thought, and breathlessly awaited the shock.

Instantly the face of Mora Estill rose before him, a fleeting vision of loveliness; and with it came a realization of the love for her that had rapidly grown into an all-absorbing pa.s.sion in their short acquaintance.

He knew at once what had sent him out on this midnight search, and why he had begun to wish for wealth so eagerly of late:--It was because be craved fortune and a position which would equal that of the ”Cattle King's” daughter. Yet even in this moment of deadliest peril he thought, with a grim smile, of the irony of fate--the reward of his first attempt at ”fortune hunting.”

While death stared at him from those glaring eyes, and the moments seemed to lengthen out to years, he thought of his friends at home, all unconscious of the dire fate that he was facing; then a wild longing for life seized him, and for the first time since the encounter he began to plan a way of escape.

The spade on which his hand rested was sharp and bright; but to raise it before the serpent could strike he knew was impossible; so he stood immovably eying the formidable reptile, which at length slowly uncoiled and glided away from his feet to an opposite corner of the pit. With a sigh of relief Clifford saw that the danger was lessened, yet he began to more fully realize the size of his deadly antagonist, which now reached twice across the yard-wide pit.

In moments of great danger we are apt to think with lightning-like rapidity, and quickly see any advantage that may arise. So it was with Clifford, who remembered that the rattlesnake always throws itself into a coil before striking; and as he saw it thus off its guard, with a quick movement he struck a violent blow at the snake's head and pinioned it to the earth--then throwing his full weight on the handle he felt the bones crunch beneath the sharp blade, while the reptile madly threshed its now headless body about and wrapped its jangling tail around his boot.

Springing out of the pit, with a desperate leap, young Warlow disengaged the writhing, heavy monster from his foot, and with the iron rod threw it away into the gra.s.s; then sinking down upon the ground, unnerved and exhausted, he lay, too weak to move for several minutes. But when he remembered the unexplored cask, he sprang to his feet again, and after listening cautiously a moment, and hearing no further evidence of danger, he dropped lightly down into the pit, carelessly tramping on the grim serpent-head that but a few moments before was so full of threatening danger.

Anxiously he thrust the long rod down into the cask. No rattle responded; but the despairing fact became apparent: the cask was empty!

With a sinking heart he groped about the bottom of the cask with the rod, and when its iron point struck against a round object that rolled over with a harsh sound on the bottom, he quickly thought of the casket of gems, and reaching down, with a thrill of excitement he clutched the mysterious, smooth object, and sprang out of the pit into the moonlight.

By the pale beams of the gibbous moon, now sinking low in the western sky, but throwing a path of s.h.i.+mmering silver on the bosom of the rippling brook, he saw--not the gems of Monteluma, but a human skull, that, with its wide, eyeless sockets, seemed to glare derisively, and with great white teeth laugh mockingly, at this ending of his ”fortune hunting.” With a cry of despair, the disheartened youth dashed the loathsome object to the earth; but, as if the sound of his voice had evoked its former spirit, there glided from out the wavering shadows a tall, gaunt form, gray-robed and silent, with tangled, flowing hair, and burning eyes, its lips drawn back from its snaggled fangs in a horrid look of hate and ferocity. With noiseless tread it seemed to float into the moonlit s.p.a.ce; then s.n.a.t.c.hing the skull from the ground and clasping it close to its breast, with an unearthly scream it faded away among the whispering willows.

Chapter XIII.