om death to become the victim of
dishonour!

CHAPTER SEVENTY NINE.

A SUBTERRANEAN FIRE.

In the midst of my meditations, night descended upon the earth. It
promised to be a moonless night. A robe of sable clouds formed a sombre
lining to the sky, and through this neither moon nor stars were visible.

It grew darker apace, until in the dim light I could scarcely
distinguish the forms of my companions--neither men nor horses, though
both were near me.

The men were still asleep, stretched along the grass in various
attitudes, like so many bodies upon a battle-field. The horses were too
hungry to sleep--the constant "crop-crop" told that they were greedily
browsing upon the sward of gramma-grass that, by good fortune, grew
luxuriantly around. This would be the best rest for them, and I was
glad to think that this splendid provender would in a few hours recruit
their strength. It was the _chondrosium foeneum_, the favourite food of
horses and cattle, and in its effects upon their condition almost equal
to the bean or the oat. I knew it would soon freshen the jaded animals,
and make them ready for the road. At least in this there was some
consolation.

Notwithstanding the pre-occupation of my thoughts, I began to be
sensible of a physical discomfort, which, despite their low latitude, is
often experienced upon the southern prairies--cold. A chill breeze had
set in with the night, which in half-an-hour became a strong and violent
wind, increasing in coldness as in strength.

In that half-hour the thermometer must have fallen at least fifty
Fahrenheit degrees; and such a phenomenon is not rare upon the plains of
Texas. The wind was the well-known "_norther_" which often kills both
men and animals, that chance to be exposed to its icy breath.

I have endured the rigour of a Canadian winter--have crossed the frozen
lakes--have slept upon a snow-wreath amidst the wild wastes of Rupert's
Land; but I cannot remember cold more intensely chilling than that I
have suffered in a Texan norther.

This extreme does not arise from the absolute depression of the
thermometer--which at least is but a poor indicator of either heat or
cold--I mean the sensation of either. It is more probably the contrast
springing from the sudden change--the exposure--the absence of proper
clothing or shelter--the state of the blood--and other like
circumstances, that cause both heat and cold to be more sensibly felt.

I had ofttimes