"Unhappy fool!" he said, sternly; "Is it thus you betray me, after the proofs of friendship I have given you?"
"I assure you, general—" the other began.
"Silence, you miserable spy!" the general replied; "You wished to sell me to my enemies, but God has not permitted the execution of so black a project."
The senator was annihilated.
"Take away this man," said Antinahuel.
The poor wretch struggled in vain in the hands of the Indian warriors, who seized him roughly, and dragged him out of the toldo, in spite of his cries and tears. Black Stag led them to the foot of an enormous espino, whose thick branches formed a wide shadow on the hill. When they arrived there, Don Ramón made a last and powerful effort, escaped from the hands of his surprised guards, and darted away like a madman up the steep acclivity of the mountain.
But this wild race lasted only a few minutes, and quite exhausted his strength. When the Indian warriors overtook him, which they easily did, terror had already nearly killed him. The warriors placed the noose of a lasso round his neck, and then threw it up over the principal branch of the espino. But he was dead when they hanged him—fright had killed him. It was written that poor Don Ramón Sandias, the victim of a foolish ambition, should never see Casa Azul again.
The tragical death of the senator was only the consequence of his well-known pusillanimity. If the general had believed it possible to place any reliance upon his word, he would have released him immediately.
Immediately after the execution of the senator, the heralds convened the chiefs to a grand Auca-coyog. Thirty Ulmens and Apo-Ulmens were quickly assembled at the place appointed. Antinahuel soon appeared, followed by General Bustamente. Antinahuel held in his hand the letter taken from Don Ramón, and he spoke as follows:—
"Ulmens, Apo-Ulmens, and chiefs of the four Uthal-mapus of the Araucanian confederacy, I have convoked you by the heralds to communicate to you a necklace taken from the spy who by my order has just been put to death. This necklace will cause us to alter our arrangements, I think, for the malocca, on account of which we have assembled. Our ally, the Great Eagle of the Whites, will explain it to you. Let my brother read," he added, turning towards the general.
The latter read with a loud voice:—
"'MY DEAR GENERAL,—I have submitted to the council assembled at Valdivia the objections you have thought it your duty to make on the subject of the plan of the campaign. These objections have been found just; consequently the following plan has been modified according to your observations. You will continue, then, to cover the province of Concepción, by holding the line of the Bio Bio, which you will not cross without fresh orders. On my side, with seven thousand men, I will march upon Arauca, of which I will take possession and destroy. This plan offers us the more chances of success, from the enemy being, as we learn from trustworthy spies, in a deceitful security with regard to our movements. The bearer of this order is a person you know, whose nullity itself will facilitate the means of passing through the enemy's lines. You will get rid of this individual by sending him to his home, with an injunction not to leave it.'"
"'Signed,DON TADEO DE LEÓN,'""'Dictator and General-in-Chief of'""'the Army of Liberation."
The reading of this despatch was listened to by the chiefs with the deepest attention.
"This necklace," said Antinahuel, "was traced in private characters, which our brother the paleface has succeeded in deciphering. What do the Ulmens think?"
One of the ancient Toquis arose.
"The palefaces are very cunning," he said; "they are foxes in malice and jaguars in ferocity. This order is a snare for the good faith of the Aucas. But Aucas warriors are wise; they will laugh at the machinations of the Huincas, and will continue to guard the ford of the Bio Bio. The communications of the whites are cut off, like a serpent whose body has been divided by a stroke of the hatchet: they in vain seek to unite the various trunks of their army, but they will not succeed. I have spoken."
This speech, pronounced in a firm, clear voice, by one of the most justly respected chiefs of the nation, produced a certain effect.
"The chief has spoken well," said the general; "I coincide entirely with his opinion."
Another chief then arose and spoke in his turn.
"The whites are very cunning, as my father has said; they are foxes without courage—they can only massacre women and children, and run away at the sight of an Aucas warrior. But this necklace tells the truth, and translates their thoughts literally. Chiefs, we all have wives and children, and we ought in the first place to think of their safety. Let us be prudent, chiefs; let us not throw ourselves into a snare while we think we are laying one for our enemies."
The Araucanos have a deep affection for their families; and the idea of leaving them behind, exposed to the disasters of war, gave them great uneasiness. General Bustamente anxiously followed the fluctuations of the council.
"What my brother has remarked is just, but his opinions only rest upon an hypothesis; the whites do not employ forces in such numbers to attempt an invasion of the Araucano territory. Let my brothers leave in the camp a thousand resolute warriors to defend the passage, and at nightfall cross the Bio Bio boldly, and I will answer for their success."
"My brother is a skilful warrior," said Antinahuel; "the plan he proposes shows his experience. As he says, until I have proof to the contrary, I shall believe the necklace to be a deceit; and that we ought, this very night, to invade the territories of the whites."
The general breathed freely; his cause, he thought, was gained. Suddenly Black Stag entered, and took his place in the assembly.
"What is going on?" the Toqui asked.
"Listen!" said Black Stag, in a solemn tone; "Illecura, Borea, and Nagotten have been given up to the flames, and the inhabitants put to the sword; another body of troops, still more considerable than the first, is acting in the flat country in the same manner as the other in the maritime country."
The most violent agitation seized on the Ulmens; nothing was heard but cries of rage and despair.
"What do we wait for, chiefs of the Aucas?" cried the chief who had advised retreat, in a shrill, excited tone; "Do you not hear the cries of your wives and children calling upon you for succour? Do you not see the flames which are consuming your dwellings and devouring your harvests? To arms! warriors, to arms!"
"To arms!" the warriors yelled, rising as one man.
Indescribable confusion followed. General Bustamente retired with death in his heart.
"Well!" the Linda asked, on seeing him enter, "what is going on? What mean these cries and this frightful tumult? Have the Indians revolted?"
"No," the general explained, "Don Tadeo, that demon, bent upon my destruction, has disconcerted all my plans. The Indian army is about to retreat."
"To retreat!" the Linda cried furiously, and rushing towards Antinahuel—
"What! you! you fly! you confess yourself conquered! Don Tadeo de León, the executioner of your family, is marching against you, and you are frightened! Coward! coward! put on petticoats; you are not a warrior! you are not a man; you are an old woman."
The Toqui put her back with disdain.
"Woman, you are mad!" he said. "What can one man do against fate? I do not fly from my enemy, I go to meet him."
"My sister cannot remain here," he said, in a softened tone; "the camp is about to be broken up."
The poor girl followed mechanically, without reply.
A few minutes later the camp was struck, and the Araucanos abandoned the impregnable position. At the reiterated entreaties of Bustamente, Antinahuel consented to leave a chosen band of eight hundred warriors to defend the passage.
Black Stag was a prudent warrior. As soon as the night came on, he dispersed scouts in all directions upon the banks of the river. Yielding, in spite of himself, to the influence produced by the report of the spies, he had, in the first moment, advised retreat; but, upon reflection, it was not long before he suspected aruse de guerre.
His suspicions had not deceived him. Between eleven and twelve o'clock at night, his scouts came hastily in to warn him that a long line of horsemen had lately left the Chilian bank, and were gliding along like an immense serpent near the ford. Black Stag had but two hundred and fifty warriors armed with guns, so he placed them in the first line upon the bank, supported by his lancers. When they deemed them within range the Araucano warriors made a discharge upon the horsemen who were crossing the river. Several fell. At the same instant four pieces of cannon were unmasked on the opposite bank, which spread death and terror among the Indians.
A strong detachment had, in the meantime, cleared the ford, and fell upon them with the utmost fury. From that time the struggle had no equality. The Aucas, notwithstanding their courage, were obliged to give ground, leaving nearly two hundred dead on the banks of the river.
The plan conceived by Don Tadeo de León had completely succeeded. The army of General Fuentes had forced the passage of the Bio Bio. Thus, thanks to the ruse employed by the dictator, the ground upon which the quarrel was to be decided was changed, and the Aucas were forced to defend themselves at home. Instead of invaders, as they wished to be, they found themselves, on the contrary, the invaded; the campaign might now be terminated by the gaining of a single battle.
The army commanded by General Fuentes was composed of two thousand foot, eight hundred horse, and six pieces of cannon. It was an imposing force for these countries, where the population is very small, and where infinite pains are often required to raise an army half as numerous. As soon as the passage was effected, and the banks cleared of the fugitives, the general encamped his troops, resolved to give them a few hours' repose before resuming his march to form a junction with Don Tadeo de León. After giving these orders, as he was entering his marquee, an Indian came towards him.
"What do you want, Joan?" asked he.
"The great chief no longer needs me; Joan wishes to return to him who sent him."
"You are at liberty to do as you please, my friend; but I think you had better accompany the army."
The Indian shook his head.
"I promised my father to return immediately," he said.
"Go, then; I neither can nor wish to detain you; you can report what you have seen; a letter might compromise you in case of a surprise."
"I will do as the great chief commands."
"Well, good fortune attend you; but be particularly careful not to be taken in passing the enemy's lines."
"Joan will not be taken."
"Farewell! then, my friend," said the general, waving his hand as he entered his tent.
Joan took advantage of the permission granted and left the camp without delay. The night was dark; the moon was concealed behind thick clouds. The Indian directed his course with difficulty in the obscurity. He was more than once forced to retrace his steps, and to go wide about to avoid places which he thought dangerous. He proceeded thus, feeling his way as it were, till daybreak. At the first glimmering of dawn he glided like a serpent through the high grass, raising his head occasionally, and trembling in spite of himself, for he found he had, in the darkness, stumbled upon an Indian encampment. He had, inadvertently, got into the midst of the detachment commanded by Black Stag, who had succeeded in collecting the remains of his troops, and who, at that moment, formed the rearguard of the Araucanian army, whose bivouac fires smoked on the horizon, within distance of two leagues at the most.
But Joan was not a man to be easily disconcerted; he noticed that the sentinels had not yet perceived him, and he did not despair of getting out of the scrape he had blundered into. He did not, however deceive himself or attempt to fancy his position not critical; but as he confronted it coolly, he resolved to do all he could to extricate himself, and took his measures accordingly. After reflecting for a few seconds, he crept in a direction opposite to that he had before followed, stopping at intervals to listen. Everything went on well for a few minutes; nothing stirred. A profound silence seemed to hover over the country; Joan was beginning to breathe freely; in a few minutes he should be safe. Unfortunately, at that moment chance brought Black Stag directly before him; the vigilant chief had been making the round of his posts. The vice-Toqui turned his horse towards him.
"My brother must be tired; he has crept through the grass like a viper so long," he said, with an ironical smile; "he had better change his position."
"That is just what I am going to do," said Joan, without displaying the least astonishment.
And bounding up like a panther, he leaped upon the horse behind the chief, and seized him round the body.
"Help!" Black Stag cried, in a loud voice.
"One word more and you are a dead man!" Joan whispered in a threatening tone.
But it was too late; the chief's cry of alarm had been heard, and a crowd of warriors hastened to his succour.
"Cowardly dog!" said Joan, who saw his chance was gone, but who did not yet despair; "die then!" He plunged his poisoned dagger between his shoulders and cast him onto the ground, where the chief writhed in the agonies of death, and expired as if struck by thunderbolt. Joan lifted his horse with his knees and dashed full speed against the Indians who barred his passage. This attempt was a wild one. A warrior armed with a gun took a steady aim, the horse rolled upon the ground, with its skull crushed, and dragging its rider with it in the fall. Twenty warriors rushed upon Joan, and bound him before he could make a movement to defend himself. But he had time to conceal the dagger, which the Indians did not even think of looking for, as they did not know what weapon he had employed.
The death of Black Stag, one of the most respected warriors of the nation, threw the Araucanos into a state of consternation. An Ulmen immediately took the command in his place, and Joan and a Chilian soldier captured in the preceding combat, were sent together to the camp of Antinahuel. The latter felt great regret at receiving the news of the death of Black Stag; it was more than a friend he had lost, it was a right arm!
Antinahuel, in order to reanimate the courage of his people, resolved to make an example, and sacrifice the prisoners to Guecubu, the genius of evil—a sacrifice which we must admit is becoming more and more rare among the Aucas, but to which they have recourse sometimes when they wish to strike their enemies with terror, and to prove that they mean to carry on a war without mercy. Time pressed, the army must continue its march, therefore Antinahuel determined that the sacrifice should take place at once.
At some distance beyond the camp the principal Ulmens and warriors formed a circle, in the centre of which was planted the Toqui's hatchet. The prisoners were brought thither. They were not bound, but in derision were mounted upon a horse without ears and without a tail. Joan, as the more culpable, was to be sacrificed last, and witness the death of his companion as a foretaste. But if at that fatal moment everything seemed to have abandoned the valiant Indian, he had not abandoned himself.
The Chilian prisoner was a rough soldier, well acquainted with Araucanian manners, who knew perfectly what fate awaited him. He was placed near the hatchet, with his face turned toward the Chilian frontiers. They made him dismount from his horse, placed in his hands a bundle of small rods and a pointed stick, with which they obliged him to dig a trench, in which to plant one after the other the little wands, while pronouncing the names of the Araucano warriors he had killed in the course of his long career. To every name the soldier pronounced, he added some cutting speech addressed to his enemies who replied to him by horrible execrations. When all the wands were planted Antinahuel approached.
"The Huinca is a brave warrior," said Antinahuel; "he will fill up this trench with earth in order that the glory and valour of which he has given proofs during his life may remain buried in this place."
"So be it!" said the soldier; "but you will soon see that the Chilians possess more valiant soldiers."
And he carelessly threw the earth into the trench. This terminated, the Toqui made him a sign to place himself close to the hatchet; the soldier obeyed. Antinahuel raised his club and crushed his skull. The poor wretch fell, but was not quite dead, and he struggled convulsively. Two machis immediately sprang upon him, opened his breast and tore out his heart, which they presented, palpitating as it was, to the Toqui. The latter sucked the blood, and then passed the heart to the Ulmens, who followed his example.
In the meantime, the crowd of warriors seized upon the carcass, which they cut to pieces in a few minutes, reserving the bones to make war whistles of. They then placed the head of the prisoner on a pike, and danced round it to the sound of a frightful song, accompanied by the pipes made from the bones.
Joan's eye and ear were on the watch at the moment when this frightful saturnalia were at their apogee, he judged the time propitious, turned his horse, and fled as fast as he could. A few minutes confusion ensued, of which Joan took full advantage; but the Araucanos hastened to pursue him. He soon perceived that the distance between him and his enemies rapidly diminished. He was passing by the side of a hill, whose steep ascent could not be climbed by horses, and with the quickness of conception peculiar to brave men he divined that this would be his only chance of safety. He guided his horse so as, in a manner, to brush the hill, and get upright in his saddle. The Araucanos came up, uttering loud cries. All at once, seizing a strong branch of a tree, he sprang from his saddle, and climbed up the branch with the velocity of a tiger cat. The warriors shouted with rage and astonishment at beholding this extraordinary feat.
Nevertheless, the Araucanos had by no means given up all hopes of retaking their prisoner. They left their horses at the foot of the mountain, and half a score of the most zealous and active set off upon Joan's track. But the latter had now some space in advance. He continued to mount, clinging by feet and hands, and only stopping when nature commanded to take breath.
But he found that a longer struggle would be useless; that at length he was really lost.
The Araucanos came up panting from their long run, brandishing their lances and clubs with cries of triumph. They were not more than fifty paces from him at the most. At this awful moment Joan heard a voice whisper—
"Lower your head!"
He obeyed, without thinking of what was going on around him, or of whence this recommendation could come. The sound of four shots rattled sharply in his ears, and four Indian warriors rolled lifeless on the ground before him. Restored to himself by this unhoped-for succour, Joan bounded forward and stabbed one of his adversaries, whilst four fresh shots stretched four more upon the earth.
Joan was saved! He looked around him to ascertain to whom he owed his life. Valentine, Louis, and the two Indian chiefs stood beside him. These were the four friends who, watching from a distance the camp of the Araucanos, had witnessed the desperate flight of Joan, and had come bravely to his aid.
"Well, Joan, old fellow!" said Valentine, laughing, "you have had a narrow escape!"
"Thanks!" said Joan, warmly; "I shall not forget."
"I think we should act wisely if we now placed ourselves in safety," Louis observed.
"Don Louis is right." said Trangoil-Lanec.
The five men plunged into the woods of the mountain; but they had no occasion to dread an attack. Antinahuel, upon hearing the reports which the warriors who had escaped the Frenchmen's rifles gave of the number of enemies they had to combat, was persuaded that the position was occupied by a strong detachment of the Chilian army: consequently, he struck his camp, and went away in one direction, whilst the adventurers escaped in another.
Don Tadeo de León had manoeuvred with the greatest skill and promptitude: supporting his left upon the sea, and pivoting upon Arauca, the capital of the confederation, he had extended his right along the mountains, so as to cut off the communications of the enemy, who, by his junction with General Fuentes, found themselves placed between two fires.
Antinahuel, deceived by the false message found on Don Ramón, had committed the unpardonable fault of raising his camp of the Bio Bio, and thus leaving a free passage for General Fuentes. General Bustamente had viewed with despair the faults his ally had committed, faults which the latter would not allow till it was too late to remedy.
Doña Maria, the woman who had been his evil genius, abandoned him now. The Linda, faithful to her hatred, only thought of one thing—to make Doña Rosario suffer as much as she could.
Antinahuel had endeavoured to throw himself into the mountains, but all his efforts had been in vain, and he had only obtained the result he wished to avoid—that is to say, he had placed himself between threecorps d'armée, which, by degrees, closed round him, and had ended by placing him in the annoying obligation of fighting upon ground which it pleased the enemy to choose instead of in his own country, Don Gregorio Peralta closed up his passage towards the sea; Don Tadeo de León on the side of the Arauca; whilst General Fuentes defended the approach to the mountains.
All the marches and counter-marches which led to this result had lasted a fortnight. Don Tadeo was anxious to strike a great blow, and terminate the war in a single battle. On the day with which we resume the course of our narrative, the Araucanos and Chilians were at length in presence: Don Tadeo de León, shut up in his tent with Don Gregorio, General Fuentes, and several other superior officers of his staff, was giving them his last orders, when a summons of trumpets was heard from without. The Chilians immediately replied; an aide-de-camp entered the tent, and announced that the Grand Toqui of the Araucanos demanded an interview.
"Do not go, Don Tadeo," said General Fuentes; "it is nothing but some villainy these demons have planned."
"I am not of your opinion, general," the dictator replied. "I ought, as leader, to seek every means of preventing the effusion of blood; that is my duty, and nothing will make me fail in it."
"Caspita!" said Don Gregorio, "you wish to prevent our taking them in spite of you."
The place chosen for the conference was a small eminence, situated between the two camps. A Chilian flag and an Araucanian flag were planted at twenty paces from each other; at the foot of these flags forty Aucas lancers on the one side, and a similar number of Chilian soldiers placed themselves. When these diverse precautions were taken, Don Tadeo, followed by two aides-de-camp advanced toward Antinahuel, who came to meet him with two Ulmens. When they arrived near their respective soldiers, the two leaders ordered their officers to wait for them, and met in the space left free for them. Antinahuel was the first to break the silence.
"The Aucas know and venerate my father," he said, bowing courteously; "they know that he is good, and loves his Indian children. A cloud has arisen between him and his sons; is it impossible to dissipate it?"
"Chief," said Don Tadeo, "the whites have always protected the Indians. Often have they given them arms to defend themselves with, corn to feed them, and warm clothing to cover them in winter. But the Araucanos are ungrateful—when the evil is past they forget the service rendered. Why have they today taken up arms against the whites? Let the chief reply in his turn; I am ready to hear all he can advance in his defence."
"The chief will not defend himself," Antinahuel said, deferentially; "he acknowledges his errors; he is convinced of them; he is ready to accept the conditions it shall please his white father to impose."
"Tell me, in the first place, what conditions you offer, chief; I shall see if they are just."
Antinahuel hesitated, and then said—
"My father knows that his Indian sons are ignorant. A great chief of the whites presented himself to them; he offered them immense territories, much pillage, and fair women if the Araucanos would consent to defend his interests. The Indians are children; they allowed themselves to be seduced by this man who deceived them."
"Very well," said Don Tadeo.
"The Indians," Antinahuel continued, "are ready, if my father desires it, to give up to him this man."
"Chief," replied Don Tadeo, with indignation, "are these the proposals you have to make me? What! Do you pretend to expiate one treachery by committing one still greater and more odious? The Araucanian people are a chivalrous people, unacquainted with treachery: not one of your companions can have possibly suggested anything so infamous; you alone, chief, you alone must have conceived it!"
Antinahuel knitted his brows; but quickly resuming his Indian impassiveness, he said—
"I have been wrong; my father will pardon me: I wait to hear the condition he will impose."
"The conditions are these: the Araucanian army will lay down their arms, the two women who are in their camp will be placed this very day in my hands, the Grand Toqui, and twelve of the principal Apo-Ulmens, shall remain as hostages at Santiago, until I think proper to send them back."
A smile, of disdain curled the thin lips of Antinahuel.
"Will my father not impose less harsh conditions?"
"No," Don Tadeo answered, firmly.
The Toqui drew himself up proudly.
"We are ten thousand warriors resolved to die; my father must not drive us to despair," he said.
"Tomorrow that army will have fallen under the blows of my soldiers, like corn beneath the sickle of the reaper."
"Listen, you who impose such arrogant conditions upon me," the chief replied; "do you know who I am—I who have humbled myself before you?"
"Of what consequence is it to me? I will retire."
"One instant more! I am the great-grandson of the Toqui Cadegual; a hereditary hatred divides us; I have sworn to kill you, dog! rabbit! thief!"
And, with a movement as quick as thought, he drew out his hand, and struck Don Tadeo with a dagger full in the breast. But the arm of the assassin was seized and dislocated by the iron-muscled hand of the King of Darkness, and the weapon was broken like glass against the cuirass which he had put on under his clothes, to guard against treachery.
"Do not fire!" he said to the soldiers; "the wretch is sufficiently punished, since his execrable project has failed. Go back, assassin!" he added, contemptuously; "return and hide your shame among your warriors. Begone, unclean dog!"
Without saying a word more, Don Tadeo turned his back and regained his camp.
"Oh!" Antinahuel said, stamping with rage, "all is not ended yet! Tomorrow I shall have my turn."
"Well," Don Pancho asked, as soon as he saw him, "what have you obtained?"
Antinahuel gave him an ironical glance.
"What have I obtained?" he replied; "that man has baffled me."
"Tomorrow we will fight," said the general. "Who knows? All is not lost yet."
"Who knows?" the chief exclaimed, violently; "Tomorrow, if it costs me all my warriors, that man shall be in my power!"
Without condescending to give any further explanation, the Toqui shut himself up in his toldo with some of his chiefs.
Don Tadeo returned to his tent.
"Well!" cried General Fuentes, "I told you to beware of treachery!"
"You are right, general," the dictator replied, with a smile. "But the wretch is punished."
"No," the old soldier retorted, somewhat angrily; "when we meet with a viper in our path, we crush it without mercy beneath the heel of our boot; if we did not, it would rise and bite the imprudent man who had spared it or disdained it."
"Come, come, general!" Don Tadeo said, gaily; "you are a bird of ill-omen. Think no more about the wretch, other cares call upon us."
The general shook his head with an air of doubt, and went to visit the outposts.
It was the fourth of October.
The Araucano warriors came out proudly from their entrenchments, and drew up in order of battle to the sound of their warlike instruments. The Araucanos have a system of battle from which they never deviate: this unchangeable order is as follows: the cavalry form the two wings, and the infantry is in the centre, divided by battalions. The ranks of these battalions are by turns composed of men armed with pikes and men armed with clubs, so that between two pikes there is always one club. The vice-Toqui commands the right wing, an Apo-Ulmen the left wing. As to the Toqui, he flies to all points, exhorting the troops to fight courageously for liberty.
The Araucanian army, drawn up as we have described, had an imposing and martial appearance. All these warriors knew they were supporting a lost cause, that they were marching to an almost certain death, and yet they waited impassively, their eyes burning with ardour for the signal for battle. Antinahuel, with his right arm tied down to his body by leather strap, brandishing a heavy club in his left hand, mounted a magnificent courser, as black as jet, which he governed with his knees, and rode through the ranks of his warriors.
Before leaving the camp, General Bustamente exchanged a few words with the Linda. Their short conversation ended with these words, which did not fail to make an impression upon the woman's heart—
"Farewell, señora!" he said, in a melancholy voice; "I am going to die—thanks to the bad influence you have exercised over me—in the ranks of those to whom my duty orders me to be opposed! I am going to die the death of a traitor, hated and despised by all! I pardon you the evil you have done me. Repent!—there is still time! Farewell!"
He coldly bowed to the dejected Doña Maria, and rejoined the troop.
The Chilian army was formed in squares of echelons.
At the instant Don Tadeo was leaving his tent he uttered an exclamation of joy at beholding two men.
"Don Louis! Don Valentine!" he exclaimed; "you here?"
"Faith! yes, here we are," Valentine replied, laughing; "Cæsar and all, who has a great inclination to taste an Araucano; haven't you, old dog?" he said.
"We thought," said the count, "that on a day like this you could not have too many of your friends round you; we have left the two chiefs concealed in the woods a short distance off, and have come to you."
"I thank you. You will not leave me, I hope."
"Pardieu! we came on purpose to stick to you."
Don Tadeo ordered each to be furnished with a superb charger, and all three set off at a gallop to place themselves in the centre square.
The plain of Conderkanki, into which Don Tadeo had at length succeeded in driving the Indians, has the form of an immense triangle. The Araucanos occupied the summit of the triangle, and found themselves hemmed in between the sea and the mountains.
"Well," Valentine asked Don Tadeo, "is not the battle going to begin?"
"Directly," the latter replied, "and be assured you will find it sharp enough."
The dictator then raised his sword. The drums beat, the bugles sounded the charge, and the Chilian army advanced at quick step. The signal being given, the Araucanos advanced in their turn resolutely, uttering frightful yells. As soon as their enemies were within a proper distance the Chilian lines opened—a discharge of artillery roared forth its thunders, and swept the front ranks of the Araucanos; then the squares as suddenly closed, and the soldiers waited in their ranks, with bayonets at charge.
The shock was terrible. The Aucas, decimated by the artillery which ploughed their ranks, front, flank, and rear, faced about on all sides at once, and rushed with fury upon the Chilian bayonets. As soon as the first rank succumbed beneath the bullets, the second and third resolutely replaced it. And yet the savage warriors retained self-command in all their eagerness; they followed with exactness and rapidity the orders of their Ulmens, and executed with the greatest regularity the various evolutions which were commanded.
In spite of the close discharges of the musketry which cut them to pieces, they rushed headlong upon the front ranks of the Chilians, and at length attacked them hand to hand. The Chilian cavalry then dashed in, and charged them to the very centre.
But General Bustamente had foreseen this movement. On his side he executed the same manoeuvre, so that the two bodies of cavalry came in contact with a noise like thunder. Calm and cool at the head of his squadron, the general charged.
As Don Tadeo had predicted to Valentine, the battle was rudely contested along the whole line; the Araucanos, with their tenacity which nothing can repel, and their contempt of death, allowed themselves to be slaughtered by the Chilian bayonets without yielding. Antinahuel was in the van of his warriors, animating them with his gestures and his voice.
"What men!" the count could not refrain from exclaiming; "what mad rashness!"
"Is it not?" Don Tadeo replied; "They are demons."
"Pardieu!" Valentine cried. "What brave soldiers! Why, they will all be killed if they go on so."
"All!" Don Tadeo replied.
The principal efforts of the Araucanians were directed against the square where the general-in-chief was, surrounded by his staff. There the fight was changed into a butchery; firearms had become useless, bayonets, hatchets, sabres, and clubs furrowed breasts and crushed skulls. Antinahuel looked around him. His followers were falling like ears of ripe corn; the forest of bayonets which barred their passage must be broken through at all hazards.
"Aucas!" he cried, in a voice of thunder "forward!"
With a movement rapid as thought, he lifted his horse, made it plunge, and hurled it upon the front ranks of the enemy. The breach was opened by this stroke of extraordinary audacity; the warriors rushed in after him. A frightful carnage ensued—a tumult impossible to be described! With every blow a man fell. The Aucas had plunged like a wedge into the square, and had broken it.
"Well," Don Tadeo asked of Valentine, "what do you think of these adversaries?"
"They are more than men!" he answered.
"Forward, forward! Chili! Chili!" Don Tadeo shouted, urging on his horse.
Followed by about fifty men, among whom were the two Frenchmen, he plunged into the thickest of the enemy's ranks. Don Gregorio and General Fuentes had divined from the persistency with which the Araucanos attacked the great square that their object was to take the general-in-chief prisoner. Therefore, they had hastened their movements, effected their junction, and enclosed the Aucas within a circle of steel.
At a glance Antinahuel perceived the critical position in which he was placed. He shouted to Bustamente a cry of anxious appeal. He also was aware of the dangerous position of the Indian army.
"Let us save our warriors," he shouted.
"We will save them," the Indians howled.
All at once the general found himself immediately opposed to the squadron commanded by Don Tadeo.
"Oh!" he cried, "I shall die at last."
From the commencement of the action Joan had fought by the side of Don Tadeo, who, intent upon his duties as leader, often neglected to parry the blows aimed at him; but the brave Indian parried them for him, and seemed to multiply himself for the sake of protecting the man he had sworn to defend. Joan instinctively divined the intention of General Bustamente.
"Oh!" the general shouted; "my God, I thank thee. I shall not die by the hand of a brother."
Joan's horse came full in contact with that of the general.
"Ah! ah!" the latter murmured, "you also are a traitor to your country; you also are fighting against your brothers. Die, wretch!"
And he aimed a heavy sabre stroke at the Indian. But Joan avoided it, and seized the general round the body. The two horses, abandoned to themselves, and rendered furious by the noise of the battle, dragged along the two men, who clung to each other like serpents. This furious struggle could not last long, and both men rolled on the ground. They disengaged themselves from their stirrups, and instantly stood face to face. After a contest of skill for a few minutes, the general, who was an expert swordsman, succeeded in planting a sabre cut which cleft the skull of the Indian; but before falling Joan collected his strength, and threw himself headlong upon his antagonist, who was surprised by this unexpected attack, and plunged his poisoned dagger into his breast. The two enemies staggered for a moment, and then fell, side by side—dead!
On seeing General Bustamente fall, the Chilians uttered a loud cry of triumph.
"Poor Joan!" Valentine murmured, as he cleft the skull of an Indian; "poor Joan! he was a brave, faithful fellow."
"His death was a glorious one," Louis replied.
"By dying thus bravely," Don Tadeo observed, "Joan has rendered us a last service.
"Bah!" Valentine philosophically rejoined, "he is happy. Must we not all die, one day or another?"
Valentine was in his element; he had never been present at such a festival, he absolutely fought with pleasure.
"Pardieu! we did wisely in quitting France," he said, "there is nothing like travelling."
Louis laughed heartily at hearing him moralize.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself, brother," he said.
"Prodigiously." Valentine replied.
His courage was so great, so audacious, so spontaneous, that the Chilians looked at him with admiration, and felt themselves electrified by his example. Cæsar, covered by his master with a kind of cuirass of leather and armed with an enormous collar edged with steel points, inspired the Indians with the greatest terror—they knew not what to make of such a creature.
The battle raged as fiercely as ever; both Chilians and Araucanos fought upon heaps of carcases. The Indians gave up all hopes of conquering, but they did not even think of flying; resolved all to die, they determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible, and fought with the terrible despair of brave men who neither expect nor ask for quarter. The Chilian army drew nearer and nearer around them. A few minutes more and the Araucano army would have ceased to exist.
Antinahuel shed tears of rage; he felt his heart bursting in his breast at seeing his dearest companions thus fall around him. All these men, the victims of the ambition of their chief, died without a complaint, without a reproach. Suddenly a smile of strange character curled his thin lips; he beckoned to the Ulmens, who were fighting near him, and exchanged a few words.
After making a sign of acquiescence in reply to the orders they had received, the Ulmens immediately regained their respective posts, and during some minutes the battle continued to rage with the same fury. But all at once a mass of fifteen hundred Indians simultaneously rushed with inexpressible force against the centre squadron, in which Don Tadeo fought, and enveloped it on all sides.
"Caramba!" shouted Valentine, "we are surrounded! Mon Dieu! we must disengage ourselves, or these demons will cut us up."
And he dashed headlong into the thickest of the combatants, followed by the rest of his party. After a hot struggle of three or four minutes, they were safe and sound outside of the fatal circle.
"Hum!" said Valentine, "rather sharp work. But, thank God, here we are."
"Yes," the count replied, "we have had a narrow escape! But where is Don Tadeo?"
"That is true," Valentine observed. "Oh," he added, striking his brow with anger, "I see it all now. Quick, to the rescue!"
The two young men placed themselves at the head of the horsemen who accompanied them, and rode back furiously into themêlée. They soon perceived the person they were in search of; Don Tadeo, supported by only four or five men, was fighting desperately.
"Hold out! hold out!" Valentine shouted.
"We are here! Courage, we are here!" the count cried.
Their voices reached Don Tadeo, and he smiled.
"Thanks," he replied despondingly; "but all is useless. I am lost."
"Caramba!" said Valentine, biting his moustache with rage; "I will save him, or perish with him."
And he redoubled his efforts. In vain the Aucas warriors opposed his passage, every stroke of his sabre cut down a man. At length the impetuosity of the two Frenchmen prevailed over the courage of the Indians, and they penetrated into the circle—Don Tadeo had disappeared.
All at once, the Indian army, feeling, no doubt, the impossibility of maintaining a longer contest with superior forces which threatened to annihilate them, dispersed.
The victory of the Chilians was brilliant, and, probably, for a long time the Araucanos would have no inclination to recommence a war. Of ten thousand warriors who had formed their line of battle, the Indians had left seven thousand on the field. General Bustamente, the instigator of this war, was killed; his body was found with the dagger still sticking in his breast; and, strange coincidence! The pommel of the dagger bore the distinctive sign of the Dark Hearts.
The results obtained by the winning of this battle were immense. Unfortunately, these results were lessened, if not compromised, by a public disaster of immense consequence, which was the disappearance, and perhaps the death, of Don Tadeo de León, the only man whose energy and severity of principles could save the country. The Chilian army in the midst of its triumph was plunged in grief.
The army encamped upon the field of battle; Valentine, the count, and Don Gregorio, passed the whole night in searching amongst this immense charnel house, upon which the vultures had already fallen with hideous cries of joy. The three men had the courage to lift and examine heaps of carcases; but all without success, they could not find the body of their friend.
The next morning at daybreak the army set forward on its march towards the Bio Bio, to re-enter Chili. It took with it, as hostages, thirty Ulmens.
"Come with us," said Don Gregorio; "now our friend is dead, you can have nothing more to do."
"I am not of your opinion," Valentine replied; "I do not think Don Tadeo is dead."
"What makes you suppose that?" Don Gregorio asked; "have you any proofs?"
"Unfortunately, none."
"And yet you must have some reason?"
"Why, yes, I have one."
"Then tell it me."
"I am afraid it will appear futile to you."
"Well, but tell it me, nevertheless."
"Well, since you insist upon it, I must confess that I feel a secret presentiment."
"Upon what do you ground that supposition? You are too intelligent to jest."
"You only do me justice. I perceived the absence of Don Tadeo. I went back again, in quick time. Don Tadeo, though closely pressed, was fighting vigorously, and I shouted out to him to stand his ground."
"And did he hear you?"
"Certainly he did, for he answered me. I redoubled my efforts—he had disappeared, and left no traces behind."
"And you thence conclude—"
"That his numerous enemies seized him and carried him off."
"But who can tell whether, after having killed him, they have not carried away the body?"
"Why should they do that? Don Tadeo dead, could only inconvenience them, whereas, as prisoner, they probably hope that by restoring him to liberty. Or perhaps, by threatening to kill him, they will have their hostages given up."
Don Gregorio was struck with the justness of this reasoning.
"It is possible," he replied; "there is a great deal of truth in what you say—what do you mean to do?"
"A very simple thing, my friend. In the environs are concealed two Indian chiefs."
"Well?"
"These men are devoted to Louis and me, and they will serve us as guides."
Don Gregorio looked at him for an instant in deep emotion, and tears glistened in his eyes; he took the young man's hand pressed it warmly, and said, in a voice tremulous with tenderness—
"Don Valentine, pardon me I did not know you; I have not appreciated your heart at its just value. Don Valentine, will you permit me to embrace you?"
"With all my heart, my brave friend," the young man replied.
"Then you are going?" Don Gregorio resumed.
"Immediately."
"Come on," said Valentine to his foster brother, as he whistled to Cæsar and clapped spurs to his horse.
"I am with you," Louis replied, promptly.
And they set off.
For some time the young men followed at a distance the march of the Chilian army, which advanced slowly, though in good order, towards the Bio Bio. They crossed, at a foot's pace, the plain where the day before the sanguinary battle had been fought between the Indians and the Chilians.
"Why do we not hasten to quit this accursed place?" Valentine asked.
"We have a duty to fulfil," Louis replied solemnly.
"A duty to fulfil?" said Valentine.
"Yes," the young me continued, "would you leave our poor Joan without sepulture?"
"Thank you for having reminded me of it; oh, you are better than I am, you forget nothing."
"Do not calumniate yourself."
In a short time they arrived at the spot where Joan and General Bustamente had fallen. The foster brothers remained for a few instants, drew their sabres and dug a deep hole, in which they buried the two enemies.
"Farewell!" said Valentine. "Farewell, Joan! Sleep in peace, at the spot where you valiantly fought; the remembrance of you will not be easily effaced."
"Farewell, Joan!" said the count, in his turn. "Sleep in peace, good friend."
Cæsar had watched with intelligent attention the movements of his masters; at this moment he placed his forepaws upon the grave, smelt the earth, and then gave two lugubrious howls.
The young men felt their spirits very much depressed; they remounted their horses silently, and after having taken one last farewell look at the spot where the brave Araucano lay, they departed.
They had by degrees diverged a little towards the right to get nearer to the mountains and were following a narrow path traced along the rather sharp descent of a wooded hill. Cæsar suddenly pricked up his ears, and sprang forward, wagging his tail.
"We are getting near," said Louis.
"Yes," Valentine replied, laconically.
They soon reached a place where the path formed a bend, round which the Newfoundland disappeared. After passing this elbow, the Frenchmen suddenly found themselves in front of a fire, before which a quarter of a guanaco was roasting; two men, reclined upon the grass at a short distance, were smoking comfortably, whilst Cæsar, gravely seated on his tail, followed with a jealous eye the progress of the cooking of the guanaco. These two men were Curumilla and Trangoil-Lanec. At the sight of their friends, the Frenchmen dismounted. Valentine led the horses up to those of the Indians, hobbled them, unsaddled them, and gave them some provender; then he took his place by the fire. Not a word had been exchanged between the four men.
"Well?" Trangoil-Lanec asked, at length.
"The battle has been a fierce one," Valentine replied.
"I know it has," said the Indian, shaking his head; "the Araucanos are conquered; I saw them flying."
"They supported a bad cause," observed Curumilla.
"They are our brothers," Trangoil-Lanec said.
Curumilla bowed his head at this reproach.
"He who placed arms in their hands is dead," said Valentine.
"Good! And does my brother know the name of the warrior who killed him?"
"Yes, I know it," Valentine said mournfully.
"Let my brother tell me that name that I may keep it in my memory."
"Joan, our friend, killed that man."
"That is true," said Curumilla; "but why is not Joan here?"
"My brothers will never see Joan again," said Valentine.
The two chiefs exchanged a look of sorrow.
"He had a noble heart," they murmured.
"Yes," added Valentine; "and he was a friend."
A short silence ensued; then the two chiefs suddenly rose and went towards their horses, without speaking a word.
"Where are our brothers going?" the count asked.
"To give sepulture to a warrior; the body of Joan must not become the prey of urubus," Trangoil-Lanec replied, gravely.
"My brothers can take their places again," Louis said.
The chiefs re-seated themselves silently.
"Do Trangoil-Lanec and Curumilla know their brothers so ill," Louis continued, "as to suppose they would leave the body of a friend without sepulture? Joan was buried by us before we rejoined our brothers."
"Good!" said Trangoil-Lanec.
"The Muruches are not Huincas," Curumilla said.
"But a great misfortune has happened to us," Louis continued sorrowfully; "Don Tadeo, our dearest friend—"
"Well?" Curumilla interrupted.
"He is dead," said Valentine; "he was killed in the battle yesterday."
"Is my brother certain of what he states?"
"At least I suppose so, as his body has not been found."
"Let my brothers be consoled," said the Ulmen; "the Great Eagle of the Whites is not dead."
"Does the chief know that?" the two young men exclaimed in a breath.
"I do know it," replied Trangoil-Lanec. "Let my brothers listen. Curumilla and I are chiefs in our tribe; if our opinions prevented us from fighting for Antinahuel, they prevented us also from bearing arms against our nation. Our friends wished to go and join the Great Eagle; we left them to act as they pleased. They wished to protect a friend; they were right. We allowed them to go; but after their departure we thought of the young maiden of the palefaces, and we reflected that if the Aucas lost the battle, the maiden, according to the orders of the Toqui, would be the first placed in safety; in consequence we squatted among the bushes by the side of the road which, according to all probability, the mosotones would take when flying with their charge. The battle lasted long; as they always do, the Aucas died bravely."
"You may justly be proud of them, chief," Valentine exclaimed warmly.
"For that reason they are called Aucas—free men," replied Trangoil-Lanec.
"Suddenly a noise like thunder struck our ears, and between twenty and thirty mosotones passed by us like the wind. They took with them two women; one was the viper face, and the other the blue-eyed maiden."
"Oh!" the count exclaimed.
"A few minutes later," Trangoil-Lanec continued, "another troop, much more numerous than the first, arrived with equal swiftness; this was led by Antinahuel in person."
"He is wounded," Valentine observed.
"By his side galloped the Great Eagle of the Whites."
"Was he wounded?" Louis asked, anxiously.
"No, he carried himself upright."
"Oh! if he is not dead, we will save him."
"Save him? Yes, Don Valentine."
"When shall we take the track?"
"At daybreak. We will save the daughter, and we will deliver the father," said Trangoil-Lanec.
"Good, chief," Valentine replied with delight; "I am happy to hear you speak so; all is not lost yet."
"Far from it," said the Ulmen.
"Now, my brothers, that we feel reassured," Louis observed, "if you will take my advice, we will enjoy a few hours of repose."
Trangoil-Lanec had not been deceived, it was really Don Tadeo whom he had seen galloping by the side of the Toqui. The King of Darkness was not dead, he was not even wounded, but he was the prisoner of Antinahuel.
After Don Tadeo saw his faithful followers fall one after the other by his side, and he was left alone, he still continued fighting. It was then that he heard the cries of encouragement from Valentine and the count. Antinahuel had also heard the shouts of the Frenchmen, and on seeing the incredible efforts they made to succour their friend, he perceived that if he delayed the capture, his prey would escape him; hence he tore off his poncho and threw it skilfully over the head of Don Tadeo, who, blinded and embarrassed in the folds of the ample woollen vestment, was disarmed.
Antinahuel, whilst flying with the swiftness of an arrow, contrived to rally around him a good number of horsemen, so that at the end of about twenty minutes, he found himself at the head of five hundred warriors. The Toqui formed of these warriors a compact squadron, and turning round several times, like a tiger pursued by the hunters, he charged the Chilian horse vigorously. When arrived at a certain distance, and the conquerors had renounced the pursuit, he stopped to look after his prisoner, and allow his troop to take breath.
Since his capture Don Tadeo had given no signs of life, and Antinahuel feared with reason that, deprived of air, and shaken by the rapidity and roughness of the course, he should find him in a dangerous state. He hastened to untie the lasso, the numerous twists of which cut the prisoner in all parts of his body, and then took off the poncho which covered him—Don Tadeo had fainted. Want of air alone caused this result, so that as soon as he breathed freely he opened his eyes. At this happy result a smile of indefinable meaning lighted the features of the Toqui for a second.
Don Tadeo cast around a look of astonishment, and appeared to sink into deep reflection; memory, however, returned by degrees, he recollected what had taken place, and how he came into the hands of the chief. He rose crossed his arms upon his breast, and looking steadfastly at the great chief—waited.
"Does my father feel himself better?"
"Yes," Don Tadeo replied laconically.
"Can we then set on again?"
"Is it for me to give you orders?"
"If my father were not sufficiently recovered to sit on horseback we would wait a little."
"Oh, oh!" said Don Tadeo.
"I should be very sorry if any inconvenience befell my father."
Don Tadeo shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, and Antinahuel resumed—
"We are about to depart; will my father give me his word of honour not to attempt to escape? If he do so, I will allow him to be free amongst us."
"Will you have faith in my word?"
"I am but a poor Indian, my father is a caballero."
"Before I reply, tell me whither you are taking me."
"I am taking my father to the country of the Puelches, my brothers."
A feeling of joy rushed into the prisoner's heart, he should see his daughter.
"How long is this journey likely to last?"
"Only three days."
"I give you my word of honour not to attempt to escape for three days."
"Good," the chief replied, in a solemn voice.
"When my father is ready, we will depart," Antinahuel said.
Don Tadeo mounted, the Toqui followed his example, and the troop set off at a smart pace.
The sun had sunk low in the horizon when the chief commanded a halt. The spot was admirably chosen; it was a narrow valley, situated on the not very high summit of a hill, the position of which rendered a surprise almost impossible.
Antinahuel seemed to have forgotten his hatred for Don Tadeo; he spoke to him with the greatest deference. Confiding in his word of honour, he left him entirely free. As soon as the repast was terminated, sentinels were placed, and everyone sought repose. Don Tadeo in vain courted sleep, for a too powerful anxiety devoured him to allow him to close his eyes. Seated at the foot of a tree, his head reclining on his breast, he passed the whole night in reflecting upon the strange events which for some months passed had assailed him.
The rising sun found him plunged in these sad thoughts, and sleep had not for an instant closed his weary eyelids. But everybody was in motion in the camp; the horses were saddled, and after a hasty repast the march was continued. The day passed away without any incident worthy of being recorded. In the evening they encamped, as they had done the night before, on the summit of a hill; the sole difference was that, as the Araucanos now knew themselves to be beyond the danger of a surprise, they did not take such great precautions as on the preceding occasion; but still they raised entrenchments.
Don Tadeo, overcome by fatigue, sank into a leaden sleep, from which he was not roused till the moment for departure.
Antinahuel had rejoined the mosotones to whom he had confided Doña Rosario two days previously. The two troops now formed but one. The Toqui had at first entertained the intention of crossing the first plateau of the Andes. But the battle they had lost had produced terrible consequences; their principal tolderías had been burned by the Spaniards, their towns sacked, and the inhabitants either killed or carried away. Such as had been able to fly had at first wandered about the woods without an object; but as soon as they learned that the Toqui had succeeded in escaping, they re-assembled, and sent envoys to him to demand assistance.
Antinahuel rejoiced at the movement of reaction which was going on among his countrymen. He changed his itinerary, and had, at the head of a hundred men only, returned back in the direction of the Bio Bio; whilst by his order his other warriors dispersed throughout the Aucas territory for the purpose of rousing the people to arms. The Toqui had no intention now of extending the Araucanian dominions; his only desire now was to obtain, arms in hand, a peace which might not be too disadvantageous for his country.
For a reason only known to Antinahuel, Don Tadeo and Rosario were completely ignorant that they were so near to each other.
Antinahuel had pitched his camp at the summit of the mountain, where some days before he had been with the whole Indian army, in the strong position which commanded the ford of the Bio Bio.
It was about two o'clock in the afternoon. With the exception of a few Araucanian sentinels, leaning motionless upon their long lances, the camp appeared a desert; silence reigned everywhere. Suddenly a trumpet call was sounded from the opposite side of the river. The Ulmen charged with the care of the advanced posts ordered a reply to be sounded, and went out to inquire the cause. Three horsemen, clothed in rich uniforms, stood upon the bank; close to them was a trumpeter, waving a flag of truce. The Ulmen hoisted a similar flag, and advanced into the water to meet the horsemen.
"What do the chiefs of the white faces want?" the Ulmen asked, haughtily.
One of the horsemen immediately replied—
"Go and tell the Toqui that a general officer has an important communication to make to him."
The wild eye of the Indian flashed at this insult; but he said, disdainfully—
"I will go and inquire whether our great Toqui is disposed to receive you; but I much doubt whether he will condescend to listen to Cheapolo-Huincas."
"Fool!" the other replied angrily; "make haste."
"Be patient, Don Gregorio, in Heaven's name!" one of the two officers exclaimed.
At the expiration of a few minutes a sign was made from the bank that the Chilians might advance. Antinahuel, seated under the shade of a magnificent espino, awaited the officers. They stopped before him, and remained motionless.
"What is your will?" he asked, in a stern voice.
"Listen to my words, and mark them carefully," Don Gregorio replied.
"Speak, and be brief," said Antinahuel.
Don Gregorio shrugged his shoulders disdainfully,
"Don Tadeo de León is in your hands," he said.
"Yes; the man is my prisoner."
"Very well. If tomorrow, by the third hour of the day, he is not given up to us safe and sound, the hostages we have taken, and more than eighty others, will be shot within sight of the two camps."
"You will do as you please, but this man shall die!" the chief replied, coldly.
"Oh! that is the case, is it? Very well! I, Don Gregorio Peralta, swear to you, on my part, that I will strictly keep the promise I have made you."
And turning his horse sharply round he departed.
And yet there was more bravado than anything else in the threat made by Antinahuel. If pride had not prevented him, he would have renewed the parley. He returned to his camp buried in thought, and went straight to his toldo. The Linda, who was seated in a corner upon sheepskins, was as much absorbed in thought as the chief; Doña Rosario had fallen asleep. At the sight of the young girl the chief experienced a peculiar emotion, the blood flowed back forcibly to his heart, and springing towards her, he imprinted a burning kiss upon her half-open lips, Doña Rosario, suddenly awakened, bounded to the extremity of the toldo, uttering a cry of terror.
"What is the meaning of all this?" the chief exclaimed angrily; "Whence comes this terror?"
And he took several steps towards her.
"Advance no further! advance no further! in Heavens name!" she shrieked.
"What is the use of all this folly? You are mine."
"Never!" she said, in an agony of grief.
"Nonsense!" he said; "I am not a paleface, the tears of women have no effect upon me."
And he advanced again towards her. The Linda, still apparently buried in her reflections, seemed not to be aware of what was going on.
"Señora, señora!" the maiden cried; "in the name of all that is sacred defend me, I implore you!"
The Linda raised her head, looked at her coldly, and, with a dry nervous laugh, said—
"Have I not told you what you had to expect?"
Then she thrust her roughly from her.
"Oh!" cried Doña Rosario, in a piercing voice, "maldición on you, heartless woman!"
Again the chief approached, and again his victim darted to the other side of the apartment, but unfortunately as she passed he caught her dress in his iron grasp. And now the noble energy that never deserts virtue in distress returned to her. She drew herself up proudly, and fixed her eyes steadfastly on her pursuer. "Stand back!" she cried, brandishing her dagger. "Stand back! or I will kill myself!"
In spite of himself the demon stood motionless. He was convinced that it was not a vain threat the girl uttered. At that moment the hideous, scarred, grinning face of the Linda was bent towards his ear.
"Appear to yield," she whispered; "I will tame her, leave her to me!"
Antinahuel looked at her with a suspicious eye. The Linda smiled.
"Do you promise me?" he said, in a hoarse voice.
"On my soul I do," she replied.
In the meantime Doña Rosario—her arm elevated and her body bent forward—awaited the denouement of this frightful scene. With a facility which the Indians alone possess, Antinahuel composed his countenance so as entirely to change its expression.
"My sister will pardon me," he said, in a soft voice; "I was mad, reason is restored to my mind."
After again bowing to the young lady, who did not know to what to attribute this sudden change, he left the toldo.
Upon reflection, Antinahuel resolved to strike his camp and depart.
The Linda and Doña Rosario were sent in advance, under the guard of some mosotones. The young girl, weakened by the terrible emotions she had undergone, could scarcely sit her horse; a burning fever had seized her. "I am thirsty—so thirsty!" she murmured.
At a sign from the Linda one of the mosotones approached her, and unfastened a gourd.
"Let my sister drink," he said.
The maiden seized the gourd eagerly, applied it to her lips, and drank a large draught.
"Good!" said the Linda to herself.