 | CHAPTER XXIV.
THE FAITH OF MY COMPANION. The border rover |  |
25. CHAPTER XXIV.
THE FAITH OF MY COMPANION.
Being now in the possession of food, our next
immediate want was a fire by which to cook it; for
to devour it raw, with anything like relish, would
require a still longer fast; and besides, it now suddenly
occurred to me, that by means of a flinty stone,
and a buckle, and some dry, tinder-like grass, a fire
could be kindled without much difficulty. But the
place where we were was not the proper one for trying
the experiment; and so remounting my horse,
and disposing of the mutilated and bloody carcass in
such a manner that it could be carried in safety,
without allowing any portion to hang down in tempting
proximity to the hungry wolves[1]
—which were
loping around us, licking their chops, and growling
their displeasure at being so summarily robbed of
their hardly won treasure—I urged the noble animal
ride through them rather than go back.
It was an exciting passage—that passage through
an almost numberless throng—a mighty stream of
huge, living animals—which shrunk back from us in
terror, smelling the blood of their kind, and plunged
and bellowed around us—and at times, from their
movements, exciting serious apprehensions that we
should be overthrown, trampled upon, and crushed.
In the middle of this living stream, we looked for a
glimpse of the distant prairie; but as far as the eye
could reach, we saw nothing but a compact and
moving body of animal life—a sight that was grand,
sublime, and, in our situation, awful; for should there
chance to be a stampede, we knew our lives hung
upon a brittle thread, that might snap at any moment.
For nearly two hours we struggled through this tremendous
herd, almost suffocated with dust and heat;
and when we finally rode clear of them, on the western
side, we felt we had new cause to be grateful for
another wonderful preservation of our lives.
Fatigued and half famished, faint and thirsty, we
now looked eagerly around for a suitable place to
camp; and it was with feelings of delight we beheld a
charming little grove covering a knoll, or swell of
ground, about half a mile distant, with a clear, tiny
stream of water flowing along at its base. We were
not long in reaching this delightful spot; and removing
saddle and bridle from our noble brute, I hoppled
and turned him loose, that he might rest and regale
the shadow of the trees. In the bed of the brook, I
found a pebble to answer my purpose; and collecting
some tinder-like grass, I was soon trying an important
experiment with a large buckle. For five minutes I
labored in vain, in my attempt to kindle the dry
grass; but at last a spark caught, which I hurriedly
blew to a flame; and while Adele applied some dry
twigs and sticks, I jumped up and fairly danced with
rapture.
“At last, dear Roland,” cried Adele, clapping her
hands for joy, “we have all that we have prayed
for.”
“Thank God, I feel that we shall be saved!” returned
I, as I plunged my fingers into the tender part
of the mutilated calf, and tore out a portion of the
tempting flesh. “Here, Adele,” I continued, “spit
this with a stick, and broil and eat before you faint!”
I tore out another piece for myself; and the next
moment the two ungainly lumps were hissing and
sissling in the crackling flame. The instant the
savory smell touched our olfactory nerves, our appetites
grew so keen, that it seemed impossible to longer
resist the demands of nature; and yielding to our
desires, we eagerly began to devour the half broiled
flesh. Never before had I tasted food to compare
with that; never before had I known the real enjoyment
of eating; and we ate and broiled, and broiled
and ate, till pound after pound had disappeared, and
an hour had been consumed in supplying the cravings
that we had taken a new lease of life.
So intently had we been engaged with our plain,
but wholesome repast, that, up to the moment of our
hunger being appeased, our minds had been occupied
with nothing more intellectual than a consideration
of the adaptedness of fresh meat to fill the vacuum
caused by fasting, and the conviction that man is at
least half animal, and that a famishing human being
may sink down to only one remove from the brute below
him; but having ate our fill, we proceeded to take
a survey of the scene around us, and turn our
thoughts once more upon the future.
The little knoll on which we were now located, was
one proof, out of many, that we were entering upon
a tract of country materially differing from the great
arid desert over which we had passed; and looking
toward the west, we saw, with delight, that though
the general aspect of the ground was level for a
great distance, the surface had begun to exhibit a
wave-like roll, indicating our approach to a still more
uneven and hilly country; while here and there
could be seen bushy and timbered hillocks, and the
grass had a broader and taller spire, and, if not a
greener, at least a less parched and withered hue.
There was also animal life upon the scene; for
besides the immense herd of buffaloes, through which
we had forced our way to the peril of our lives,
several straggling members of the great body could be
seen in all directions, with here and there the light-footed
wolves, prowling around with watchful eyes and
cowardly hearts, ready to attack where they might
hope of success without fear of perilous defeat. The
day, too, as well as the country, was growing more in
our favor; for the atmosphere had begun to thicken,
and fleecy clouds were floating up from the west with
a cooling breeze, and were ever and anon drawing a
temporary veil between the earth and the scorching
rays of a mid-day summer sun.
“Well, my dear Adele,” said I, “what chance have
we now, do you think, of reaching the mountains in
safety?”
“The best, my dear friend,” she replied, with animation;
“and if I could feel assured that reaching
the mountains would put us beyond danger, I should
rejoice in the thought that our troubles are drawing
to a close.”
“We cannot know what is before us, it is true,”
I said; “but if we may augur from the past what the
future will be, we can go on our way rejoicing.”
“We have been wonderfully favored and preserved,
all things being considered,” she solemnly
rejoined; “and God, who sees the heart, knows that
mine is overflowing with gratitude. Oh, Roland,”
she continued, earnestly, “I would that you believed
as I do; for it is such a consolation in times of peril,
to know that we are surrounded by sympathizing,
though invisible, friends, who have already passed
the narrow bounds which separate time from eternity;
endeavoring to impress upon our minds such hope to
cheer, and such knowledge to relieve, as they, looking
beyond mortal view, may discover; and who not
only sorrow with us in our sorrow, but also rejoice
with us in our joy, as I feel they do now! With all
due reverence for the Great Supreme—who is Lord
and Ruler of all on earth, and beyond earth, in the
material and spiritual world, in time and eternity—I
still feel that I am as much justified in praying to
his ministering spirits for temporal aid, and returning
thanks to them for the aid thus rendered, as I would
be in calling upon you, or any other mortal, and
returning thanks for your assistance.”
“And you really believe that the spirits of the
departed hover about you, and hear your prayers,
and render you assistance?” said I.
“I do solemnly believe,” she earnestly replied,
“that the spirits of our departed friends are at times
hovering around us; that at such times they know
our wants and hear our prayers; that they do then
render us all the aid in their power, by impressing us
to do what will prove most advantageous to ourselves
under the existing circumstances. Have you never
felt, in moments of despondency, almost despair, as
if you knew all would be well?”
“I have, I can truly say.”
“Have you never, in moments of difficulty, had a
sudden thought flash upon you, that came not
by which the difficulty could be removed?”
“I have—but I think that was instinct.”
“And pray what is instinct?” she quickly demanded,
her beautiful features lighting up with an
intellectual flash that I had never seen displayed
there before. “What is instinct, pray tell me?”
“That intuitive faculty by which the lower animals,
and sometimes man, arrive at a truth of the
greatest importance to the occasion, without any
previous thought.”
“And whence comes that intuition of truth, if not
from a superior intelligence?”
“God is a superior intelligence, it is true.”
“All life and truth comes from God, I grant; but
there must be a channel, or intermediate means,
through which He acts upon a creature; and why
may not this channel, or means, be an intelligence
inferior to Him, but superior to us?”
“That it may be so, I do not deny, dear Adele;
but it does not follow I should believe it is so, simply
because I cannot prove the contrary.”
“I would you did believe so, dear Roland; but
belief itself, is, in one sense, this instinct, or intuitive
knowledge, and cannot be commanded by either
reason, will, or desire. Yet, if we earnestly pray for
the truth, we put ourselves in a condition to receive
it. Pray for an inflow of truth, Roland!”
“I always have done so, dear Adele; but my
prayers have always been directed to the Fountain
I am reached by any means, those means are under
Almighty control.”
“You do not err in this, dear Roland; nor do I
think I err in appealing both to Him and His ministering
spirits; but I think I receive a consolation in
my faith which you do not.”
“In what respect?”
“Because we cannot conceive of God, and therefore
cannot realize His presence in a human form,
with human sympathy, as we can conceive and realize
the presence of departed spirits, who were once
human, with all the human frailties which we possess.
Those nearest like us, must, in the nature of
things, be in most direct affinity or sympathy with us.”
“Your belief, I doubt not, is, in some respects, a
happy one, whatever else may be said of it.”
“You say in some respects, dear Roland—is it not
in all?”
“Why, to my mind, there is this drawback. If
you believe in the return of departed spirits, you
must believe in the return of both good and evil!”
“Well?”
“Well, admitting that, you must also admit, that
while the good would strive to do you good, the evil
would strive to do you evil!”
“So much the more need of keeping the heart
pure, and striving, through good, to overcome evil—
for evil cannot mingle with good, any more than oil
with water. This is our necessity—to strive against
your own experience, that there are moments when
we are thrilled with a holy influence, and moments
when we are thrilled with an influence that is not
holy—the one filling our souls with joy, the other
with gloom.”
“Yes, I have experienced both sensations.”
“Then we only differ as to the cause.”
“You think both proceed from surrounding spirits?”
“I do, to a great extent. And what cause do you
assign for these different impressions, dear Roland?”
“I have never assigned any, because I never
thought on the subject before,” I replied, giving way
to reflection.
The whole idea was new to me, and deeply interesting;
and I was surprised to discover so much intellectual
strength in one, whom, notwithstanding my
attachment, I had supposed to possess a mind not superior
to girls in general of her own age. Yet on every
ground taken by her, there was logic and philosophy
for me to combat; and I secretly acknowledged,
that in metaphysics, so far at least as her own faith
was concerned, she was my equal, if not superior; and
it may reasonably be inferred I did not love her the
less on this account. It was like discovering a mine
of gold where one had been looking only for silver.
After a pause, of perhaps a minute, I resumed:
“If we are surrounded by spirits of departed friends,
and others who once lived in the flesh, it is fair to
presume that all mankind are; and yet for every one
of emergency, I think I can find twenty, at least, who
are not extricated from difficulty by any cause but
self-possession, and deliberate calculation, drawn from
a natural course of reasoning—or perhaps simply
through an experiment suggested at the moment by
the circumstances in which they are placed; while, on
the other hand, the failures are innumerable—even
when they try an experiment that they thought right
at the time, but afterward know to have been decidedly
wrong—thus giving evidence, that the idea,
thought, or suggestion, or whatever you may call it,
originated with, and was confined to, themselves—
coming from no superior intelligence, that would have
known the right. Suppose, for illustration, that a
vessel spring a leak in a dark night, near a strand of
which the commander has no knowledge; there are a
hundred chances to one, that he will not take the right
course to reach the particular point where his life
might be saved; or even if he do reach it accidentally,
that some of the passengers will have jumped overboard
in fright; and this I contend would not happen,
if these good, though invisible, intelligences were
around, and had the power to impress the terrified
mortals with a fact, which, under the circumstances,
would, by your showing, be known to them.”
“You seem determined to annihilate the spirits,”
laughed Adele.
“Say, rather, I am determined to maintain the
ground that there are none present, who have the will
thus relinquish your position?”
“By no means, sir! and I will now attempt to
answer you; but if I fail to do so, satisfactorily,
attribute it to my own mental dificiency, rather than
assume that my position cannot be sustained—or that
spirits are not present—or if present, that they have
not the will or power to impress those who are in a
receptive condition.”
“Taking you on your own ground,” returned I,
laughing, “if I vanquish you, I shall consider I have
vanquished both you and the spirits, or spiritual
philosophy—since, if spirits are present, and can
impress receptive individuals—of which I hold you
to be one—they are bound to prove their presence by
convincing argument through you.”
“The power of convincing belongs neither to
spirit nor mortal, but depends on the condition of the
hearer to perceive the truth when uttered,” said
Adele.
“Let the spirits then impress both,” laughed I;
“you to utter the truth, and me to receive it as such.”
“Very well, sir. To begin then, I might first
inquire what is the cause of that self-possession, which
you have brought forward as the cause of other
effects?”
“And I might reply, a strong nerve, and a cool
brain—or a general organization that cannot be
daunted by danger—and which allows the possessor
and act if an unconcerned spectator himself.”
“Well, you spoke of an experiment being suggested
at the moment—by what, pray?”
“By his own brain, most assuredly—influenced, as
it would naturally be, by the circumstances in which
he was placed at the time.”
“But might not the suggestion of that experiment
be the work of spirits?”
“But I showed that the experiment often failed—
which would prove that the spirits are often false
directors, and not to be relied on.”
Adele colored, and grew confused.
“I do not know as I shall be able to convince you
of what I believe to be a truth,” she said, reluctantly.
“You believe it, because it is a part of your education,”
I rejoined. “Had I been educated like you,
and you like me, we might now be arguing upon the
same subject—but inversely—I maintaining, and you
denying, the spiritual hypothesis.”
“True, that might be—and yet the facts would not
be altered!” she said, reflectively. “Education has
much to do with our belief, I know; and therefore, in
matters of this nature, it is important that the child
receive instruction in the true faith.”
“Granted—but which is the true faith? Take a
dozen creeds, and each will have zealous supporters,
and each will be set up by its believers as the true,
and all others will be declared false or erroneous.”
“But I have not yet done with our spiritual discussion,”
be true—and if I cannot prove, you certainly cannot
disprove it,—grant it be true, I say, it naturally follows
that the pure and good would attract pure and
good spirits; that those who believe in, and desire,
spiritual communion, would be most likely to draw
around them their spiritual friends, and be in a condition
to receive spiritual impressions; so that, in order
to hold the ground taken by you in your illustrative
argument of the vessel, you must prove that those on
board were in a proper state of mind to attract good
spirits, and be influenced by them; for if you admit
that they might attract the evil disposed, it naturally
follows that, if impressed at all, it would be to their
injury.”
“You maintain your position very well,” said I,
“and I give you credit for it, even though I may not
be convinced of its truth. But how are we poor mortals
to keep good spirits in attendance, since both good
and bad have access to us?”
“By living uprightly, with pure motives and a
clear conscience, and calling on them to assist us in
our need, and sustain us in our faith and trust.”
“But why do you pray to the saints, and not to
particular friends you have known on earth?”
“Because the saints have been justified and made
perfect, and we would call around us the good and
pure.”
“Well,” said I, “yours is a happy belief at all
events, and I would not have you change it for one
right, whether you err in the special fact or not;
for whatever teaches us to live uprightly, with pure
and holy aspirations, is of heavenly origin. But
who taught you to support your belief, or religion,
by argument? since I have always understood, that
Roman Catholics were bound to receive their faith,
through faith, without any attempt to justify it by
reason.”
“The communion of saints, and a belief in the
presence of departed spirits, is one of the cardinal
doctrines of our church, which I was taught in the
convent of Santa Maria; and for the rest, if you
think I have sustained my position with more than
my natural abilities, which are not many, then receive
it as a proof that I have been assisted by my
spiritual friends, who are now hovering about us!”
she replied, with a smile.
“You have led a lonely life, my dear Adele, and
have been much alone with your thoughts; and you
have thus thought deeply, meditatively, reflectively,
even beyond your years,” I rejoined: “I shall therefore
give you, not the spirits, credit for all you have
said, which I frankly admit is above the mental capacity
at which I had rated you.”
Adele was about to make a rejoinder, when she
suddenly started, turned pale, and pointing to the
north, exclaimed:
“Look yonder, Roland! look yonder!”
I turned quickly, and beheld, in the distance, a
to be pressing forward toward the south — those
behind communicating alarm to those in front, which
in turn communicated alarm to those before them—the
panic rapidly extending down the long line in our
direction.
“It is the beginning of a terrible stampede!” cried
I: “doubtless there are Indians behind! We must
mount, and fly for our lives!”
The wolf here spoken of, is not of that large, ferocious, and
dangerous species, which prowls about mostly in the night, and
attacks other than non-resistant animals; but, on the contrary,
is small, crafty, and cowardly; and gains its living by following a
large herd of buffaloes, and preying upon the young, sick and disabled.
These wolves will follow the hunter, like so many dogs,
living on what he leaves; and will frequently enter the camp at
night, and steal what they find edible, without disturbing the
sleepers. They are, in fact, more annoying than dangerous.
| CHAPTER XXIV.
THE FAITH OF MY COMPANION. The border rover | |