The Desert Home: The Adventures of a Lost Family in the Wilderness. Reid Mayne

at rest, but kept always rolling on both sides of his flat and expanded nose.

      “Cudjo! drive out these animals,” said the woman – or rather lady, we should call her – for she was evidently entitled to be so styled. Her command, or more properly request – for she had made it in that tone – was obeyed with alacrity. Cudjo leaped into the floor, and, after a short while, succeeded in turning out the wolf-dogs, and panthers, and other strange animals, that up to this time had been snarling at each other, among our feet, to the no small terror of several of our party.

      All these things were so strange, that we watched them with interest and curiosity. At length our meal was ended; and as we were most anxious to have everything explained to us, we signified this desire to our host.

      “Wait until night,” said he. “Around the cheerful log-fire I will tell you my story. Meanwhile you all need other refreshment than eating. Come to the lake then, and take a bath. The sun is high and warm. A bath will refresh you after your dusty travel.”

      So saying, he stepped out of the cottage, and proceeded towards the lake, followed by all our party. A few minutes after, we were refreshing ourselves in the crystal water.

      During the remainder of the day, we occupied ourselves at different employments. Some went back to the mountain-foot for the mules and Mexicans; while the rest of us strolled about the house and grounds – every now and then stumbling upon some new object of wonder.

      We were impatient for the coming of night, for we were wound up to a pitch of extreme curiosity, and longed for an explanation of what we saw around us.

      Night came at length; and after an excellent supper, we all sat around the cheerful fire, to listen to the strange history of Robert Rolfe – for that was the name of our host.

      Chapter Five.

      Rolfe’s Early History

      “Brothers,” began he, “I am of your own race, although I am not an American. I am an Englishman. I was born in the south of that country something more than forty years ago. My father was a yeoman – an independent, or, as he was sometimes styled, a gentleman-farmer. Unfortunately, he was a man of too much ambition for his class. He was determined that I, his only son, should be a gentleman in the ordinary sense of the word; that is, that I should be educated in all those expensive habits and accomplishments, which are sure to lead men of moderate fortune along the direct road to ruin. This was not wise of my father; but it would not be graceful in me to reflect upon a fault, that consisted in his too great fondness for myself. I believe it was the only fault which my good, kind father, was ever charged with. Beyond this somewhat foolish ambition, his character was without reproach among men.

      “I was sent to those schools where I should meet the scions of the aristocracy. I was taught to dance, to ride, and to play. I was allowed spending money at will, and could call for champagne, and drink it, with any of my companions. At the end of my college life, I was sent upon my travels. I made the tour of the Rhine, of France, and Italy; and after some years spent in this way, I returned to England – sent for, to be present at the death of my father.

      “I was now sole heir to his property, which was by no means inconsiderable for a man of his class. I soon reduced it in bulk. I must needs live in London, where I could enjoy the company of many of my old school and college companions. I was welcome amongst them while my purse held out – for many of them were needy men – lawyers without briefs, and officers with nothing to live upon but their pay. Of course, such men are fond of play. They have nothing to lose, and all to win; and it was but a short year or two, until they had won from me the best part of my patrimonial property. I was on the eve of becoming a bankrupt. But one thing saved me —she saved me!”

      Here our host pointed to his wife, who sat surrounded by her family at one side of the great fireplace. The lady held down her eyes and smiled; while the children, who had been listening attentively, all turned towards her with looks of interest.

      “Yes,” continued he, “Mary saved me. We had been playmates together in earlier life; and at this time we again met. We felt an affection for each other. It ended in our getting married.

      “Fortunately, my dissipated life had not destroyed, as it often does with men, all my virtuous principles. Many of these, that had been early instilled into my mind by the teachings of a good mother, still remained fixed and true.

      “As soon as we were married, I resolved to change altogether my mode of life. But this is not so easily done as men imagine. Once you are surrounded by associates, such as mine were – once you are plunged into debts and obligations – it requires both courage and virtuous determination to meet and discharge them. It requires a terrible effort to free one’s self from evil companions, whose interest it is, that you should still remain as profligate as themselves. But I was resolved; and, thanks to the counsels of my Mary, I succeeded in carrying out my resolve.

      “To pay my debts, I was compelled to sell the property left me by my father. This done, and every bill discharged, I found myself worth only five hundred pounds.

      “My little wife, there, had brought me the sum of twenty-five hundred; and this still left us three thousand pounds with which to begin the world. Three thousand pounds is not much to live upon in England – that is, among the class of people with whom I had hitherto associated; and after spending several years in trying to increase it, I found that it was every day growing less. I found, after three years engaged in farming, that my three thousand pounds was only worth two. I was told that this sum would go much farther in America – that it would purchase me a fine home – and, with thoughts of providing well for my family, I embarked with my wife and children for New York.

      “There I found the very man whom I wanted – that was, some one to advise me how to begin life in the New World. My predilections were in favour of agriculture; and these were encouraged by the advice of him whom I had met. He told me that it would be unwise for me to lay out my money upon new or uncleared land; as, with my want of experience as a farmer, I would have to pay more for clearing it of its timber than the land would be worth. ‘It would be better for you,’ continued my new acquaintance, ‘to buy a tract already cleared and fenced, with a good house upon it, where you will be at home at once.’

      “I admitted the truth of all this reasoning; but would my money be sufficient for this? ‘Oh, yes,’ answered he; and then he told me that he ‘knew of a farm in the State of Virginia,’ – a plantation, as he called it, that would suit me exactly. It could be purchased for five hundred pounds. With the remainder of my money I should be able to stock it handsomely.

      “After some farther conversation, I found that the plantation belonged to himself. So much the better, thought I; and in the end I bought it from him, and set out immediately after for my new home.”

      Chapter Six.

      The Virginia Plantation

      “I found the farm everything he had described it – a large plantation with a good wooden house, and well-enclosed fields. I immediately set about ‘stocking’ it with my remaining cash. What was my surprise to find that I must spend the greater part of this in buying men! Yes – there was no alternative. There were no labourers to be had in the place – except such as were slaves – and these I must either buy for myself, or hire from their masters, which, in point of morality, amounted to the same thing.

      “Thinking that I might treat them with at least as much humanity, as they appeared to receive from others, I chose the former course; and purchasing a number of blacks, both men and women, I began life as a planter. After such a bargain as that, I did not deserve to prosper; and I did not prosper, as you shall see.

      “My first crop failed; in fact, it scarcely returned me the seed. The second was still worse; and to my mortification I now ascertained the cause of the failure. I had come into possession of a ‘worn-out’ farm. The land looked well, and on sight you would have called it a fertile tract. When I first saw it myself, I was delighted with my purchase – which seemed indeed a great bargain for the small sum of money I had paid. But appearances are often deceptive; and never was there a greater deception than my beautiful plantation in Virginia. It was utterly worthless. It had been