The Canadian remounted, and they continued their silent march. At the end of an hour they reached the spot where the count proposed to stop and breakfast, and allow the great heat to pass before he started again. It was a rather large clearing, in the midst of which glistened a pool of water so clear and limpid that the sky was reflected in it, with all its lights and shadows. This pool discharged its overflow into the lake by means of a shallow stream, which ran murmuring over a bed of pebbles, half hidden by the numerous tufts of nymphæas which bordered it. Singular to say, not a bird, not an insect, peopled this solitude.
When the count had given orders to halt, all dismounted. Two men stationed themselves as sentries at either end of the path which ran through the clearing; two others took the horses by the bridle, and led them to drink from the lake, which was only one hundred yards distant; while the last two lit the fire and got breakfast ready, employing the water they carried in their leathern bottles to boil thefrijoles, as they would sooner reduce their stock than take water from this pool—which, however, was so inviting, especially for men wearied by a long ride in the burning beams of a tropical sun, and whose throats were parched by thirst.
The fact was that this pond, apparently so inoffensive and pure, contained death in its waters—a frightful, inexorable, almost instantaneous death. In a word, this water, though no one was able to explain the cause, contained a violent poison, whose effects were so terrible, that the very animals, whose admirable instinct never deceives them, did not dare drink it, but shunned its vicinity as if it were impregnated with the poison it contained. This was the cause of the utter solitude which reigned in this clearing, which travellers, however, brought to these parts by accident, sought for its delicious coolness, and the security they enjoyed against the attacks of wild beasts.
The adventurer, after carefully rubbing his horse down, hobbling it, and giving it its ration of maize on his zarapé, lay down on the grass, and fumbling in hisalforjas, produced a ship biscuit and a piece of goat's milk cheese, which he was preparing to eat with good appetite, when the count, who had curiously watched the arrangements of this frugal meal, walked up and bowed courteously to him.
"Caballero," he said, "will you do me the honour of sharing my breakfast?"
The Canadian raised his head, and looked at the speaker in surprise.
"Why do you make me this offer, señor?" he asked.
"Because," the count answered frankly, "I wish to break the ice, and remove the coolness prevailing between us. What I have seen you do today," he added, pointing to the eagle's body, "proves to me that you are a man of heart. People of your stamp are rare, and I wish to have your esteem, if not your friendship."
"What I did to save a wretched bird, caballero, I would not hesitate, under any circumstances, to do for a man; but permit me to remark that I see nothing in it but what is perfectly natural."
"Perhaps so; but, unhappily, few men comprehend their duties in the same way."
"I pity them, caballero, though I dare not blame them, for each man acts according to the instincts which God has implanted in his heart."
"Do you accept the modest breakfast which I have had the honour of offering you?"
"Although I am naturally very sober, and usually content myself with the smallest thing, I should think I was offering you an insult by declining, señor. Hence, I gratefully accept your invitation."
The two men sat down side by side, and a peon placed before them a few dishes, which, though far from delicate, were of a quality superior to the Canadian's repast. The count felt, perhaps unconsciously, an interest in the Canadian, the cause of which he could not have explained, and was attracted by this blunt but frank man, with his short but always honest remarks. He divined beneath this rough husk a good nature and a strong heart, which aroused his sympathy and were a relief after the roguery and cowardly adulation of the men with whom he usually came in contact. While eating (the adventurer heartily, and the count scarce touching what was served up), they talked without the slightest restraint. Oliver related, without any boasting or pride, the incidents of his life as a wood ranger, his hunts and fights with the Indians, his adventurous excursions at the head of his bold comrades, who had unanimously elected him their chief, and the incessant joys and sorrows of this varied existence. The count listened with ever increasing interest. When the adventurer came to his enrolment among the Mexican insurgents, his hearer interrupted him—
"This time," he said, "I think you have not acted consistently with your principles."
"How so?" Oliver asked in surprise.
"Why," the count continued, "it appears to me that you let yourself be led away by the pride of rank and hope of gain."
"You are mistaken, señor, nothing would have induced me to join the Mexicans if I had not been convinced in my heart that their cause was a good one. This reason alone decided me, and besides," he added in a low voice, as he took a sly glance at the other, "I had a personal motive."
The count shook his head dubiously, but made no answer, and the conversation stopped at this point.
Four hours later, the Spaniards started again in the hope of reaching their journey's end at eight in the evening. But the count and the adventurer now rode side by side conversing amicably together.
The journey, begun under rather gloomy auspices, was continued more gaily, in spite of the pride and taciturnity of the Spanish soldiers. The latter, who took a pride in behaving exactly like their master, on seeing the count talking in a friendly way with the adventurer, broke, in their turn, the silence to which they had obstinately condemned themselves since the morning, and interchanged a few remarks, though extremely careful not to raise their voices above an indistinct murmur.
Several hours passed, and nothing interrupted the monotony of the journey. The Spaniards had left the banks of the lake and entered a country whose gloomy and desolate appearance was rendered even more sad by the approach of night. There were no lofty trees, no smiling savannahs. On all sides rose overthrown rocks, piled in a disorderly manner on each other, some covered with a velvety moss, others scarce allowing their black hue to be guessed beneath a cloak of brambles and cherfoil. In some spots, the water forced its way through crevices in the rock, and rolled through green strata, glistening with mica. A nameless stream with difficulty found a passage through the midst of this chaos, and occupied two-thirds of the canyon which the travellers were constrained to follow; at rare intervals, stunted trees were visible: still, as nature ever has her harmony, the breeze ever and anon entered the canyon. Then, as if by enchantment, the mysterious dialogues between the leaves and the wind, the nymphæas and the water, filled this desolate solitude with ineffable choruses.
The travellers yielded involuntarily to the depressing influences of the scenery they passed through, the conversation suddenly ceased, and each rode with his hand on his weapon, looking anxiously around and ready to fire at the slightest suspicious movement in the chaparral. The Sumach halted, and thoughtfully examined the gloomy landscape spread out in front of him.
"What is the matter?" the count asked him; "What are you thinking about at this moment, caballero?"
"I am thinking, señor," the adventurer said, seriously, "that Don Aníbal spoke most sensibly to you this morning, and that you acted very wrong in neglecting his advice and refusing his offer."
"Oh, oh," the count replied with a forced smile; "this country has not a very encouraging look, I allow, still I dare not believe that you are afraid."
The adventurer looked at him.
"And even if I were afraid," he said a moment later, "do you think I should do my duty worse on that account, in a case of need? Fear is nothing but the instinct of self-preservation, a nervous movement independent of our will, which causes us to forebode danger, and thus helps us to conquer it by suggesting the means of avoiding it. Fear is nothing dishonouring; every man has been afraid several times in his life, and he who denies it is a brute. I never see a gun barrel pointed at my chest without feeling a sensation of internal cold which is simply fear."
"The man who speaks so frankly of a feeling which everybody tries to hide must be brave," said the count; "but let us break off this discussion for the present, which we will resume at a more favourable moment, and pray explain your ideas to me."
"It will not take long, señor; my opinion is that no spot could be better chosen than this for an ambuscade."
"Which means?"
"That, if we are to be attacked, it will be inevitably here."
"The spot, it is true, has a bad reputation; but it is long since any attack of the sort has been heard of in the country, and nothing leads to the supposition that we have one to apprehend."
The Canadian shook his head with a preoccupied air which alarmed the count.
"Come," he said, "my friend, speak clearly; I am a man. Have we, yes or no, anything to fear?"
"Yes," Oliver replied bluntly.
"Do you think so?"
"No; I am sure of it."
"Still, up to the present, we have perceived nothing."
"You, doubtless," the adventurer interrupted, "whose senses have been blunted by a long residence in towns, have perceived nothing; but I, accustomed to desert life, have during the last ten minutes picked up proofs which do not permit me the least doubt on this head. I repeat that we shall be attacked within an hour perhaps, but assuredly at sunset."
"Tell me what signs you have discovered."
"What good will that do, señor? It is better to profit by the time left us to prepare to resist the attack that threatens us."
"I wish to have the proof, not because I doubt your words or your sagacity, but because there is in all this something extraordinary which I wish to unravel."
"Be satisfied, then," the hunter said; "stoop down."
The adventurer removed a few leaves, and displayed a footstep perfectly imprinted on the damp ground.
"What is this?" the count said, with a surprise mingled with terror.
"It is the mark of a war moccasin," the hunter answered calmly. "Now, remain here without stirring, while I follow the track; within half an hour we shall know who the enemies are who are upon our trail, and their number."
Without awaiting the count's answer, the adventurer dismounted, slipped into the bushes, and disappeared, ere the other had entirely recovered from the amazement the discovery of this Indian sign caused him. As always happens under such circumstances, in the hour of danger, the Canadian adventurer, owing to his thorough acquaintance with Indian habits, instantaneously became the most important man of the party. The count and the soldiers composing his escort, though very brave in the presence of civilized enemies, had an instinctive terror of savages, which, in the probable event of a struggle, would inevitably entail their ruin, had they not had with them a man in whose experience and fidelity they placed entire confidence.
This confidence the adventurer, whom that same morning they had regarded not only as a stranger, but almost as an enemy, had managed to obtain in a few hours; as for his experience, he had just furnished a proof, which removed any doubt. Hence the Spaniards were resolved to follow his advice, and obey without discussion the orders he thought proper to give them, as they were persuaded that their safety would depend solely on their docility, and the rapidity of their movements. The Canadian's absence was not longer than he had stated: he suddenly reappeared among the travellers before they had seen or heard him coming.
"Well," the count asked him eagerly, "what news? Were you mistaken?"
The adventurer burst into a mocking laugh.
"I mistaken! Hang me if that is possible," he said.
"Then, we are pursued by Indians?"
"Pursued and preceded; we are literally between two fires."
The Spaniards felt a shudder run over them on hearing this.
"Are they numerous?" the count continued.
"No, there are only a few warriors; the weakness of our party is known, and a large display of strength was considered useless."
"In that case, then, you think we have a chance?"
"Men have one always, when they do not give in," the Canadian replied sententiously.
"How many are there, at a guess?"
"I will give you their exact number, for I have counted them to the last man. The first detachment, the one ambushed behind us, has only twelve men."
"What," the count exclaimed, "do you not consider that large odds?"
"Hang it," the Canadian said simply, "you do not reflect that we are seven palefaces."
The count shook his head, feeling but little convinced by such reasoning.
"Go on," he said; "and the second detachment, the one ahead of us?"
"That is more numerous: it is composed of nineteen warriors, among whom I recognized several picked braves, from the wolf tails they wore on their heels."
"¡Caramba!" the count exclaimed with ill-disguised terror, "Thirty-one warriors in all, and yet you do not consider them too many for seven men!"
"I do not know whether thirty warriors are too many for seven men," the Canadian answered dryly; "all I can say is, that my friend Moonshine and myself have frequently fought a larger number of redskins in positions worse than our present one. Ah! if Moonshine were here, I promise you I should need nobody's help to free us from this vermin."
The Canadian's language produced an amazing effect on the minds of the Spaniards.
"Listen to me," he continued; "make haste and form some resolution; time presses, I warn you, and flight is impossible. As for me, do not trouble yourselves, for I can always manage to get out of a scrape. You have the choice of two things, defend yourselves bravely or surrender without a blow; in the former case, you have a chance of escape, or, at the most, of being killed; in the second, you will be inevitably attached to the war stake, and you know with what diabolical art the redskins torture white men who fall into their hands."
"Our choice is not doubtful," the count answered boldly; "we will defend ourselves."
"Good," said the Canadian, "that is speaking like a man."
"The only thing is, we do not know what we ought to do in order to sell our lives as dearly as possible."
The Canadian appeared to reflect.
"Well," he said, a moment later, "I must not conceal anything from you, your salvation depends, not only on your resolution, but also on the skill with which you fight your enemies. The redskins are cunning, and it is by cunning alone that you will be able to conquer them. Now, although your situation is critical, I do not consider it desperate; but there must be no hesitation or false steps, which would prove your ruin."
"We, and I the first, place ourselves under your orders, señor," said the count; "from this moment you are our chief, and whatever you command, we will do."
"Is that really the case?" he said, gladly; "Well then, set your minds at rest. These red devils, clever as they are, have not got us yet, and with God's help we will give them a tough job to get hold of our scalps."
At no great distance from the spot where the travellers had halted, the stream to which we have alluded formed a rather sharp curve, in consequence of a mass of lofty rocks which almost completely barred its course. These rocks, though belonging to the mainland, advanced almost into the centre of the river bed, which they commanded for some forty yards, piled up irregularly on one another, doubtless through one of the earthquakes so frequent in this country. These rocks were sufficiently wide for twenty men to shelter themselves, and from this position command the narrow canyon. It was to this natural fortress that the Canadian led his comrades, observing to the count that in this position they had no fear of being surrounded, and could, to a certain extent, make up for absent help.
When they reached the line of rocks, an apparently insurmountable obstacle presented itself; this was to make the horses, which they would not part from, cross the line of surf separating them from the rocks. The Canadian dismounted and carefully examined the passage. Then he returned, and taking his horse by the bridle, led it with extreme care across this difficult passage. The animal laid back its ears, resisted, and snorted wildly; but its master, while speaking to it and patting it, managed to lead it to the centre of a small esplanade, where it was protected on all sides against the Indian bullets and arrows. The Spaniards imitated the hunter's movements; so soon as the first horse had passed, the others, after some hesitation, followed it, and soon found themselves by the side of the Canadian's.
"Good," said the adventurer, rubbing his hands; "let the redskins come now and we will give them the reception they deserve."
Still he did not consider himself sufficiently safe yet behind these natural defences, and, helped by his comrades, he actively began raising a barricade with trees and lumps of rock, so as to form a sort of parapeted wall behind which it was possible to fire without showing themselves.
"Now," he said to the Spaniards, as he calculated the height of the sun, "it is five o'clock. The Indians, who although invisible, have not lost one of our movements, will not attack us before nightfall; that is to say, we have two hours before us to rest and eat our supper. Do not be afraid about lighting a fire; our enemies are perfectly acquainted with our position. Hence, we have no need to hide ourselves. Still, two of you will carefully watch the bank, while two others collect dry wood and cut grass for the horses."
The order was immediately executed. The Canadian then sat down, quietly lit his pipe, and made the count a sign to follow his example.
"Now, señor," he said to him, "you see that every precaution has been made for a vigorous defence."
"Yes," the count kindly replied, "and with a skill and promptness which I cannot sufficiently admire."
"Nonsense, it is only habit. I suppose your soldiers are brave?"
"As lions."
"Very good. Are they good shots?"
"They are far from equalling you, still they possess considerable skill."
"In a word they will do their best, and we can expect no more from a man. But I have another and more serious question to ask you. Have you ammunition?"
"Hang it. That is the thing which annoys me. My men have only sixty rounds apiece."
"Come, come, we are richer than I believed; I have about one hundred charges."
"And I the same," the count interrupted.
"In that case, if we have provisions enough to hold out for two days, we are saved."
"As for food, the two mules are loaded with it."
"Bravo, señor," the Canadian shouted joyously; "we have nothing more to fear now, so banish all anxiety."
"I really do not know how to requite the devotion you display to a person who is a stranger to you, and who can inspire you with but very slight interest."
"Are you not a man?" the Canadian replied. "That is enough for me. On the desert we are all brothers. You have a claim to my protection, as I have to yours. And besides, must I not defend my scalp."
"Good, good," the count said with a smile, "the day may perhaps come for me to prove my gratitude to you."
"Not a word about that, if you wish to cause me pleasure. And stay. Supper is ready, let us eat, for we must recruit our strength for the job which awaits us tonight."
They rose and joined the soldiers who were seated round the fire and eating with good appetite. By this time the sun had descended behind the lofty mountains, and night was at hand; the cloudless sky was begemmed by an infinite number of stars which were reflected in the silvery mirror of the stream; the coming breeze soughed softly through the branches, bringing with it the penetrating odours of the plants and flowers.
"Lie down, all of you," the Canadian said in a tone that admitted of no reply, "and sleep, so that you may be fresh for work when the hour arrives. I will keep watch for all, as your eyes would see nothing in the gloom."
"I will watch with you," said the count, "I feel that it would be impossible for me to sleep."
"Very good, señor."
Both then stationed themselves in a natural embrasure formed by two rocks coming close together, and began their watch, during which the Canadian carefully surveyed the river bank.
In the meanwhile the night had become more and more gloomy; the wind had risen in the north-east, driving before it heavy grey clouds, which intercepted the moonbeams, and collected over the canyon. The count, obliged to keep silent, and worn out by the fatigue of a long ride, felt his eyelids involuntarily droop. At first he resisted the lethargy that assailed him; but, as he could not change his position, he soon found it impossible to carry on the struggle. His head fell on his chest, his eyes closed, he let his rifle fall, and went fast asleep. The adventurer gazed at him for a moment with an expression of pity mingled with pride.
"A valiant soldier for all that," he muttered, "but incapable of withstanding the fatigue of a lengthened watch in the presence of the Indians; better for him to sleep in peace."
Then, with an anxiety which had something filial in its rough kindness, he took off his thick zarapé, of Indian manufacture, and carefully wrapped him up, the speaker saying in a whisper—
"The dew is heavy at this season of the year, and the nights are cold."
And he resumed his watch, looking around him carefully, in order to assure himself that, during the few seconds he had employed in doing this service to the count, no suspicious movement had occurred outside. Suddenly he started, and his eyes, obstinately fixed on an adjacent thicket, seemed trying to pierce the gloom. Gradually raising his rifle, whose barrel was browned, in order that the moonbeams might not be reflected from it, he cocked and raised it, but at the sound of the hammer a shadow emerged from the centre of the clump, and holding out its arms to the hunter, several times waved a buffalo robe.
At this signal of peace, which was familiar to him, the hunter, without lowering his rifle, so that he might be able to resist any attempted treachery, sharply asked the person standing motionless in front of him, who he was and what he wanted.
"My brother the Sumach is a great paleface brave," the stranger answered; "a chief wishes to sit at his fire, and smoke in council with him."
The hunter, on hearing the name of the Sumach, by which the Indians ordinarily designated him, understood that he was recognized; but he cared very little about it, for he was perfectly aware that the redskins knew the number of white men hidden by the rocks.
"You are drunk, redskin," he answered sharply. "Go and sleep off your mezcal and firewater. This is not the hour to try and enter a war encampment."
"The Sumach is wise," the Indian continued. "His medicine is powerful. What does he fear from one man? The White Crow is a great chief in his nation, and his tongue is not forked."
"If you are really White Crow," the hunter answered, "your words are true; but what proof will you give me?"
"This," the Indian said.
And hurriedly stooping, he set fire to a pile of dry leaves and dead wood, which he had probably collected for the purpose. In a second the wood crackled, and a brilliant flame rose skywards, illumining all surrounding objects, and especially the person of the Indian, who, with his arms crossed on his chest, and head erect, had placed himself so that not one of his features should escape the wood ranger's searching glance.
"It is well, chief," the Canadian said, as he rested his rifle butt on the ground, assured, apparently, at any rate, that the Indian was alone. "You can come and take your place by my fire."
At the noise caused by this interview, the Spaniards had risen and seized their weapons, in order to be ready for any event.
"What is the matter?" the count asked anxiously.
"Nothing out of the common in the rules of Indian tactics," the hunter answered; "a redskin chief desires, before attacking us, to make us probably unacceptable proposals."
"Why receive him, then?" the count continued.
"Refusing to do so would lead him and the demons hidden in the bushes to suppose that we are afraid; it is better to let him come. The time he loses here in useless words will be so much gained by us."
"That is true," the count said with a smile; "and what part do you propose we should play in this farce?"
"None at all. Go to sleep again, or, if your anxiety renders that impossible, pretend to sleep. This security on our part will produce a greater effect on the chief's mind than a ridiculous display of strength."
"But suppose this man only comes to us for the purpose of laying a trap," the count said earnestly.
"There is no fear of that; although Indians are regarded by white men as savages, they are civilized in their fashion, and have an honour of their own. Once they have pledged their word it may be trusted to in perfect security."
"Very well, my friend. You know better than I how you should behave to men with whose habits you are conversant, and therefore in the best way possible for our general safety."
"Trust to me for that, señor. I am as interested as yourself in the matter."
The count and his comrades, upon this assurance of the hunter, resumed their places, and when the chief appeared at the entrance of the encampment, all led him to believe that they were asleep.
"My brother, White Crow, is welcome to my fire," the Canadian said to him, "if he brings propositions of peace on behalf of his brothers."
"The intentions of the chief are good. It entirely depends on my brother whether they remain so."
The two men then bowed to each other with all the gravity demanded by Indian etiquette, and crouched down over the fire on which the Canadian had thrown some handfuls of dry wood to revive the flame. The chief then drew his pipe from his girdle, filled it withmoriche, or sacred tobacco, lit it by the help of a twig, for fear lest his fingers should come in contact with the fire, and both men began smoking, silently passing the calumet to each other, from which they only drew three or four puffs at a time.
White Crow was a tall, well-built man, whose thin limbs, however, seemed tolerably strong. As far as it is possible to recognize an Indian's age, he did not seem to have passed middle life; his features were noble and marked, and his glance intelligent; the expression of his face was generally kindly. He was in full paint, and wore the war moccasins, which showed that he was on an expedition; excepting his scalping knife, which was passed through his belt of untanned deer hide, he was unarmed, at least apparently so.
When all the tobacco was consumed, the chief shook out the ashes on his thumbnail, passed the pipe again through his belt, and turned to the hunter, who was waiting, cold and impassive, till he thought proper to speak.
"The Comanches of the Lakes," he said, "are surprised at finding here a great brave like my brother the Sumach. Can he have become a friend of the Yoris, or have they taken him prisoner in some ambuscade, and made him their slave?"
"Neither one nor the other, chief; accident alone brought me into their company," the hunter sharply replied.
"The redskins have the eye of the eagle and the wisdom of the snake. They saw the Sumach enter the stone calli, which the whites call the Hacienda del Barrio, accompanied by white men, and leave it in the same fashion."
"What does that prove, chief? Besides it concerns you but little, I suppose, if I am a friend of the Yoris, as you call them."
"More than my brother the Sumach supposes. The Comanches of the Lakes love the great heart of the east, they have met him on the war trail; they know that the Sumach is a great brave, and do not wish to see him enveloped in the ruin of their enemies."
"I thank you and yours, chief," the Canadian said, still perfectly calm, "for the interest you are kind enough to show for me. I too love your brothers; I have never fought your tribe except against the grain, and I should be vexed to level my rifle at them."
"Wah! my brother speaks well; wisdom dwells in him. Let him follow the chief to his camp; his place is marked out at the council fire."
"I should be glad to do so, chief," the hunter said, with a sad shake of the head. "Heaven is my witness that I should like to avoid bloodshed between us. Unhappily, what you propose is impossible; honour forbids my acceptance. I have sworn to protect these men, and will die or escape with them."
The Indian reflected for some minutes. "My brother's intention is mad," he at length continued; "these Yoris must die."
"Why should it be so? Can they not ransom themselves? Why shed blood unnecessarily? The Yoris will pay a ransom, and the Comanches will allow them to continue their journey in peace."
The Indian, in his turn, shook his head sadly several times.
"No," he said, "this is not the Mexican moon; the Comanches are not seeking booty, but want revenge. My brother must not press me further, but will abandon the Yoris. One of the great Comanche chiefs has been insulted, and the avenger of blood is behind the palefaces; they will die; I have spoken."
The Canadian rose.
"Though I refuse to accept my brother's offer," he said, "I am not the less grateful for the step which he has uselessly taken, impelled by the interest he feels for me. Let him return to his men and repeat my words to them; they are those of a man whose heart is upright. Their enemies are my brothers, and I will defend them, whatever may happen; if they fall I shall fall with them; but, at any rate, I shall have the satisfaction of having done my duty, instead of committing a cowardly act unworthy of a warrior and a Christian."
"My brother's blood will fall on his own head," the chief said, with an accent of sadness, which he was unable to conceal entirely.
Then after bowing ceremoniously to the hunter, who returned his salute, he withdrew slowly, and soon disappeared in the darkness.
"Up, comrades," the Canadian said so soon as he was alone; "you will now have to prove yourselves brave men, for I predict that we shall be vigorously attacked within ten minutes."
In an instant the Spaniards were armed and ambushed behind the rocks. The count walked up to the hunter and said, as he cordially pressed his hand—
"Señor Olivero, I heard all; you could save yourself by abandoning us, but refused to do so. I thank you."
"Nonsense," the adventurer replied laughingly; "did you not understand that the Indian was setting a clumsy trap for me, into which I was not so simple as to fall?"
"Why try to reduce the merit of your loyal conduct? I know perfectly well, and you know as well as I do, that this man spoke the truth."
"That is possible. Would you not have done the same in my place?"
"That is a singular question. Do you imagine, pray, that everybody has your heroism?"
The Canadian began laughing, and the conversation broke off here for the present, for an immense belt of flame rose from the bank and dispelled the gloom as if by enchantment; the Indians were beginning their attack by firing the grass, so that they might see the enemy's camp at their ease. At the same instant a cloud of arrows and a hailstorm of bullets hailed over the camp, though it was impossible for the Spaniards to distinguish a single enemy.
"Spare your ammunition," the Canadian recommended his companions; "do not fire till you are certain; who knows how long this may last? Do not expose yourselves unless you wish to be traversed by an arrow or hit by a bullet; we are waging an Indian war, in which courage is most shown in prudence."
The hunter, however, with his body bent forward, was attentively seeking an opportunity to fire, following the direction of the shots; but the redskins knew by experience the infallible precision of his aim, and were not at all anxious to serve as his target; hence they redoubled their precautions. Suddenly the Canadian fancied he saw a slight movement behind some logs collected on the bank and fired. At the same instant an Indian leapt up like a wounded buck, and then fell back; several warriors dashed forward to pick up his body, and four fresh shots produced four more corpses. The Indians thereupon fled, abandoning their wounded, who writhed, in the last convulsions of death, and all fell back into such deep silence that had it not been for the sight of the corpses and the increasing conflagration, it might have been supposed that all had been a dream.
"Well," the count said, as he reloaded his gun, "it was a sharp skirmish, but the lesson was a good one, and I hope they will profit by it."
"Do not fancy that they will so easily give up getting hold of you. Have a little patience and you will see them return. Have we any wounded?"
"Not a soul."
"Heaven be blessed! Let us redouble our vigilance, for it is probable that they are at this moment inventing some diabolical stratagem to deceive us."
Nearly two hours elapsed, and the redskins did not make the slightest movement indicating their desire to attempt a fresh attack.
"I believe, my friend," the count said, "that you are mistaken, and that these demons have definitively given up the contest."
The Canadian shook his head, as he sought to distinguish what was going on upon the river bank by the expiring flames of the conflagration. Suddenly he burst into a passionate cry, "¡Viva Dios!" he shouted; "Look at those demons incarnate, they are rolling trunks of trees, behind which they are sheltered like cunning opossums; if we do not take care we shall have them upon us within a quarter of an hour."
The hunter had guessed correctly. The redskins, after cutting down a considerable number of trees, had formed them into a sort of flying barricade, behind which they advanced till they reached the river bank, and had but a few yards to go in order to arrive at the rocks. Once there, they would begin a hand to hand fight, in which their numerical superiority would infallibly gain them the advantage. The situation was growing critical for the besieged; each moment rendered it worse, for they were compelled to keep up an incessant fire on invisible enemies, who continued to advance without taking the trouble to reply, being protected by the bullets and arrows of several of their party, who remained behind, and skirmished with the Spaniards, whom they thus obliged to display great caution to avoid being hit, and in consequence could not fire with their usual skill. On reaching the spot where the belt of rocks began, the Indians rose all together and bounded forward like a pack of tigers, uttering horrible yells.
"We must die now," the Canadian exclaimed.
Seven guns were discharged together, and seven enemies fell. But the others pressed on; they leapt over the bodies and rushed at the Spaniards. Then began a struggle impossible to describe, of seven men against thirty; a gigantic struggle, heroically though hopelessly sustained by the white men, who, in spite of prodigious efforts, saw the moment rapidly approaching when they must succumb.
The count especially fought with admirable energy against the Indians, who pressed him closely and seemed anxious to seize his person. Several times, had it not been for the Canadian's devotion, he would have been carried off by the redskins. Several Spaniards lay dead or seriously wounded, a few moments more, a few seconds perhaps, and all would be over with the white men—when a strange event suddenly occurred. A horrible clamour began among the Indians, who, for no apparent cause, were attacked by a panic and fled in all directions, crying with an accent of indescribable despair—
"Woe, woe! The Queen of the Savannah, the Queen of the Savannah!"
At the same instant three riders appeared in the canyon, driving before them the redskins, who did not attempt to resist, but fled in all directions. The Spaniards were saved at the very moment when they fancied themselves lost. Indeed, it was time for this help to arrive, for of eight, only three remained on their feet, the rest were dead!
The flight of the Indians gradually became converted into a thorough rout; the strange riders, at the head of whom it was easy to distinguish a female, passed the Spanish encampment like a tornado, and disappeared in the darkness, still obstinately pursuing the fugitives. The travellers, so miraculously saved, remained alone, suffering from great perplexity, not knowing whether they were really delivered, or had another attack to apprehend from their ferocious and implacable foes.
The Spaniards remained on the defensive for some time longer; they could not believe in their marvellous deliverance, and expected the redskins to return at every moment and attack them again. The entire night however passed without the deep silence of the desert being disturbed otherwise than by the ferocious howling of the jaguars, and the snapping bark of the coyotes, which were proceeding in packs to the watering places. At sunrise they perceived that the canyon was entirely deserted, and that their savage enemies had given up all attempts to carry their encampment by storm. After returning thanks to heaven for the unexpected help sent them in their distress, they busily set to work burying the dead, in order that they might be able to start as soon as possible.
Their loss during the obstinate fight with the Indians was serious. Four of the count's brave soldiers had fallen, the two others were wounded, and himself and the Canadian had only escaped by a miracle. The hunter was forced to allow that for the fifteen years he had been traversing the prairie, in all the engagements he had fought with the redskins, he never saw them proceed with so much method, and display such obstinacy in their attack. The Spaniards, certain of having nothing more to fear, left their entrenchments and proceeded to the mainland in order to bury their dead.
At length, when they had paid the last rites to their comrades, and had rolled heavy stones upon the graves to prevent the bodies being profaned by wild beasts, the hunters hastily took their morning meal, saddled their horses, and set out again, saddened by the mournful incident which had interrupted their journey so painfully. All smiled around them. The day announced itself under magnificent auspices, the birds saluted with their merry songs the apparition of the day star, the leaves glistened with dew, a thick mist rose from the ground, a perfumed breeze rustled the branches. In a word, all breathed calm joy and pure happiness in this desert which, but a few hours previously, had been witness of a horrid scene of carnage.
As on the previous day, the count and the adventurer rode side by side, absorbed in gloomy thoughts, and looking round them absently and carelessly. At length the Canadian drew himself up, shook his head several times as if to dismiss a troublesome thought, and turning to the count said, as if he were completing aloud an internal thought—
"Stuff, a little sooner or a little later, a man must die after all."
"Yes," the count said with a sad smile, "dying is indeed the common law. But dying thus, far from one's friends, beneath the bullets of unworthy foes, without benefit to humanity—that is truly frightful, and what heaven ought not to permit."
"Do not murmur against Providence, señor. These men have fallen, it is true; but their death was not so useless as you seem to think, because it enabled you to await the help which delivered you."
"That is true, and I am wrong; still I cannot help pitying the fate of devoted servants, whose death I indirectly caused."
"It was a glorious fight, vigorously carried on upon both sides. Still it was time for our liberators to arrive. Had they not, it is more than probable that we should now be also lying lifeless on the ground. But," he added, after a moment's reflection, "why did our saviours go off in that way? I fancy they might have joined us, if not to receive our congratulations and thanks, at least to inquire into our state."
"What good would that do? The Queen of the Savannah heard our muskets, that was sufficient to prove to her that we were still alive and able to fight."
"That is possible," the Canadian continued thoughtfully; "but however great may be the obligation I have contracted towards the extraordinary woman you call by that name, I shall not be satisfied till I shall have been close to her."
"Why so? With what have you to reproach her? Why obstinately try to disturb the secrets of a person who must be an object of indifference to you?"
"You are mistaken on that head, señor. This woman, this strange being, has already interfered twice in my affairs at a very short interval of time. A man like myself, señor, does not contract serious obligations, unless he knows that he will be able someday to repay to the person who forces such protection upon him."
The count burst into a laugh.
"Caballero, caballero," he said, "you are punctilious, and difficult to satisfy. Anyone in your place would readily put up with the affront, and not be at all anxious to know to whom he owes so great an obligation."
"Everybody, señor, looks at matters from his own point of sight; for my part I repeat that the way in which the woman to whom we are alluding has twice interfered in my affairs has excited in me, I will not say a curiosity, but such a lively interest, that I swear to you I mean to learn something about her at all risks so soon as I am at liberty again."
"Take my advice, Don Oliver, do not try to discover the matter, for there is a sad story beneath it."
"You know her, then?"
"Perhaps so. I can only form conjectures, for the persons directly interested in that woman's actions insist on maintaining the deepest silence."
"Why, wait a minute," the Canadian said, hitting his forehead like a man who suddenly remembers something he had quite forgotten, "I believe now that Don Aurelio Gutiérrez told us at the Hacienda del Barrio certain facts connected with this person."
"To what are you alluding, señor?"
"Good gracious! I attached but slight importance to the narrative at the time, so that what I heard is very confused in my head. Still I think it referred to the extermination of an Indian tribe encamped on Don Aníbal de Saldibar's estates, and atrocious revenge on the part of the redskins, in consequence of which the hacendero's wife became insane."
"Yes, all that you say is true. When Doña Emilia regained her reason she vowed an implacable hatred against the Indians, and since that period, if what is said be true, she has constantly pursued them without truce or mercy, hunting them down, and massacring them like wild beasts."
"That is indeed extraordinary."
"The redskins, tracked by this lady, whom they believe to be protected by a charm, as she has constantly foiled their snares and escaped unwounded from all their attacks, have conceived such a superstitious fear for her that her name alone, as you saw last night, is sufficient to cause them a wild terror and set them to flight, and as if rendering homage to the terror with which she has continued to inspire them, they have given her the name you heard repeated during the fight."
"The Queen of the Savannah?"
"Yes."
"I have often heard the Indians speak of this strange creature, whom they imagine to be a species of malevolent genius, and about whom they recount the most fantastic and improbable stories; but I confess I was far from suspecting that the Queen of the Savannah and Doña Emilia de Saldibar were one and the same person."
"I do not say that they are, and I affirm nothing; I merely repeat to you what is said."
"How is it that you, a friend of Don Aníbal, are not better informed about the affair?"
"Because, I repeat once again, Don Aníbal maintains an obstinate silence on the subject; and if by any chance this mysterious being is alluded to in his presence he at once turns the conversation, so that no one exactly knows what to believe, and is forced to make conjectures more or less probable."
"Very good," the hunter answered, "I thank you for your information, caballero. But,¡viva Dios!I swear to you that I will force Don Aníbal to tell me how matters really are; or, if he will not, I shall not hesitate to question his wife."
"I doubt greatly whether you will be able to obtain even the shortest interview with her. She is constantly shut up in her apartments with her daughter. No one sees her, and several of her domestics even do not know her."
"You excite my curiosity the more, señor."
"All the worse for you, caballero," the count continued; "for admitting that you succeeded in seeing Doña Emilia, I am convinced that she would not consent to answer any of the questions you thought proper to ask her."
"Oh, oh! That appears to me rather too strong; but no matter, I will not recognize defeat, and I pledge you my word that so soon as I return to the hacienda, I will try, by all the means in my power, to obtain the clue of the enigma."
"As you please, caballero. I have warned you, and have no right to check or encourage you in what you intend doing. Still, if I may be allowed to offer my advice in so serious a matter, I would invite you to refrain. It is not always prudent to try and interfere in people's business against their will, especially when it does not concern you in any way."
"I thank you for your advice, caballero, though it is not in my power to follow it. But," he said, as he stopped his horse, and laid his hand over his forehead to keep off the sunlight, "who is that coming down there?"
"Where?" the count asked, imitating the hunter.
"There, in front of us; a horseman is coming up at full speed."
"It is true," the count said; "I can just distinguish him in the cloud of dust raised by his horse's hoofs."
"Hum!" the Canadian said, as he cocked his rifle; "If he be alone, we can easily settle him; but when a thing is doubtful, it is always as well to take one's precautions."
"What are you about?"
"As you can see, I am preparing to receive the coming visitor."
In the meanwhile, the horseman rapidly approached the Spaniards, and it was soon easy to see, by his dress and horse harness, that he was a Mexican. While galloping, this man made signs as if wishing to attract the attention of the travellers, and induce them to advance.
"I was not mistaken," the count said all at once; "uncock your rifle, caballero; you have nothing to fear, for that individual is one of my peons. What motive could have induced the countess to send off a courier?"
"We are going to learn," the Canadian replied, as he laid his rifle across the saddlebow again, "for he will have joined us in five minutes."
In fact, the horseman shortly after accosted them. He was a sturdy peon, with sun burnt face and powerful limbs; he was well armed, and rode one of those prairie horses which European steeds can never equal. On coming up to his master, he stopped his horse so short that its four feet seemed to be suddenly welded to the ground, and, bowing respectfully to the count, he took from the China crape faja, tightly fastened around his hips, a bag of opossum skin, from which he drew a letter, and handed it to his master. The count opened the letter, but before reading it looked at the peon with ill-disguised anxiety, and said to him—
"Has anything new occurred at the hacienda, Diego López?"
"Nothing, mi amo, that I know of at least."
"The señora is not indisposed?"
"No, Excellency; but on learning from the lancero, whom you sent to Leona Vicario, that you would probably pass the hacienda on your return without stopping, she gave me this letter, and bade me make all speed."
"Is that really all? You are telling the truth, Diego López?"
"By my share of Paradise, Excellency, I have told you all exactly as it happened."
"Very good—wait."
And, turning to the Canadian, he said—
"Will you permit me?"
"A letter which has arrived in this way, señor, must be of importance, so read it without further delay."
The count at once began reading, but he had only got through a few lines ere his face was covered with a deadly pallor.
"What is the matter, señor?" the hunter asked anxiously; "Are you ill, or has the letter really brought bad news?"
"Neither, caballero," the count answered, making a violent effort to regain his coolness; "I thank you, but this letter reminds me of a date which I had not forgotten, alas!" he said with a sigh, "For that is impossible, but which I might have allowed to pass, owing to present circumstances. Instead of conducting you straight to Leona Vicario, as I originally intended, I am compelled to stop at my hacienda. Are you disposed to accept the poor rustic hospitality I can offer you, or will you continue your journey to the ciudad, under the guidance of Diego López?"
"I am entirely at your disposal, señor, and will do what you think proper, as I am in no hurry; you shall decide my movements."
"As you are so accommodating, we will proceed to the hacienda. Diego López, ride on ahead, and inform your mistress of our speedy arrival."
The peon bowed, bent over his horse's neck, dug his spurs into its sides, and started at a gallop.
"We need not hurry," the count said, "for we are only two leagues at the most from the hacienda."
"I will ride at your pace," the hunter replied; "besides, the sun is still high."
"The hospitality we have to offer will be sad, señor; family grief has, unfortunately, banished joy for ever from my hearth. I ask you, therefore, to excuse any formality which may be visible in the countess's reception of you."
The Canadian bowed politely, and they went on. In about an hour, they perceived the lofty and thick walls of a vast hacienda, built on the top of a scarped rock.
"Oh, oh!" the hunter said, admiring the strength of this majestic building, "That is an admirable fortress."
"It is the hacienda to which I am taking you, señor, and of which I am the owner."
"¡Viva Dios! I regret that a citadel like that is not in the possession of the party I have joined."
"Yes," the count said, with a sigh, "its position is well chosen."
"Admirably. With a good garrison, it would be possible to hold out for a long time against an army."
"Alas! There was one ill-omened day on which these strong walls, defended by a garrison of brave and devoted men, could not save it from being taken by storm, and plundered by the Comanches."
The count heaved a deep sigh as he uttered these words. The hunter, afraid of saddening his host by dwelling on a subject which seemed so painful to him, tried to turn the conversation.
"Good gracious!" he said, "I did not notice before that the hacienda is entirely surrounded by water."
"Yes, the river has been turned so as to form a belt round it. Our ancestors, compelled continually to contend against the insurrections of the natives, who only assumed the yoke with great reluctance, built perfect citadels, and took their precautions against an attack. But here we are on the river bank; you must dismount, and enter the boat; it is the only way of passing to the other side."
"I suspect," the hunter said with a laugh, "that there is another—a ford, for instance; but you do not care to show it to me."
"Perhaps so," the count answered, with a smile; "suppose there were, would you think me wrong?"
"On my word, no," said the Canadian; "war is a game like any other, in which the cleverer player has the best chance of winning."
While talking, they had dismounted, and handed their horses to the soldiers. At this moment the boat, pulled by two sturdy peons, came up to them; they got in, and in a few minutes found themselves on a sort of small quay, ten yards wide at the most.
"Come," the count said.
The hunter followed his host, and entered a narrow rugged path which ran round the hill, and which foot travellers could alone follow, as it was kept up so badly, perhaps purposely. At length, after ascending in this way for about a quarter of an hour—not without halting several times to take breath, so rapid and abrupt was the incline—the two men reached the top of the hill, and found themselves in front of the hacienda, from which they were only separated by an abyss some twenty feet wide. A drawbridge, formed of two narrow planks thrown across the precipice, supplied them with a rather precarious passage, and they at length found themselves inside the fortress.
"Well, well," the hunter muttered, as he looked searchingly around him; "the persons inhabiting this house do not seem to me persuaded that peace will be durable."
The count did not give the hunter time to make many observations.
"Excuse me," he said, "if my behaviour does not appear exactly in accordance with the claims of courtesy; but war may break out at any moment between the Spanish government and the Mexican patriots, and an ambassador, if he understands his profession, is always more or less a spy."
"That is true," the hunter said with a smile.
"You understand, I suppose, that I am not desirous to let you examine in detail fortifications which you may be ordered to attack within a few days."
"Quite true, señor. I did not think of that; your prudence is legitimate."
"However," the count continued, "be assured, señor, that, with the exception of the care I am compelled to take in hiding from you our resources and defensive measures, you will have no cause to complain of the manner in which you will be treated here."
"I am convinced of that beforehand, señor."
"Be kind enough, then, to follow me. I wish to introduce you to the countess."
"Do you consider that absolutely necessary?" the hunter asked, as he looked at his shabby clothes which displayed marks of long and hard wear.
The count looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"As you are aware, señor," the Canadian answered, good humouredly, "I am only an ignorant hunter; of use perhaps to give a companion a helping hand in a difficult situation, but quite out of my place in a drawing room, especially in the presence of a great lady like the countess."
"Nonsense, you are jesting, my friend. A man like you is nowhere out of place. The countess, I am convinced, will be delighted to know you; and I assure you that you will cause me great vexation by refusing to be introduced to her."
"Very good; as you insist, I have no more to say."
He followed the count who, after crossing two spacious courtyards, led him through a labyrinth of sumptuous apartments, at the end of which he showed him into a large drawing room furnished with all the luxurious comfort of old Europe. In this room, seated on a sofa near a window whence a magnificent view was enjoyed, was a lady of a certain age, with a gentle and pleasing face, which must have been very lovely in youth. This lady, who was dressed in mourning, was the Countess de Melgosa.
"My dear Doña Carmencita," the count said, "permit me to present to you a friend of one day's standing who has saved my life."
"He is welcome to our sad abode," the lady said, as she rose with a peaceful and calm smile. "We will try, since he deigns to accept our hospitality, to render his stay in this isolated hacienda as little wearisome as we can."
"Madam," the Canadian answered, as he bowed with that natural courtesy which men in whom a false education has not destroyed nature possess to so eminent a degree, "I am only a poor man, unworthy of the gracious reception you deign to offer me. If accident furnished me with the opportunity to do your husband a slight service, I am more than rewarded by the kind remarks you have addressed to me. Unfortunately, I shall not be able to enjoy your exquisite hospitality for long."
"You will surely remain a few days, señor; it would disoblige me if you answered by a refusal."
"Alas! Madam, I am in despair. I should be delighted to forget here, for some time, the fatigue and dangers of a desert life; unfortunately, serious reasons independent of my will compel my presence at Leona Vicario as early as possible. The Señor Conde knows that we must start tomorrow at sunrise."
The countess displayed signs of great astonishment.
"Can it be true, Don Fadrique?" she said to the count, while looking inquiringly at him.
"Indeed," he answered, "Señor Clary is in such haste to get to Leona, that if we had not been found by your messenger a few leagues from here, we should have continued our journey without calling at the hacienda."
"It is impossible!" the countess exclaimed, her face suffused with a hectic flush.
"Why so?" he continued.
The countess heaved a heavy sigh.
"Have you forgotten, then, Don Fadrique," she at length said, in a low and trembling voice, "that tomorrow is the anniversary of the fatal day?"
"Ah!" the count exclaimed, as he sorrowfully smote his brow, "Forgive me, Doña Carmencita. In truth I cannot leave the hacienda tomorrow—oh no! Not even if it were a question of life and death."
The hunter, who was greatly embarrassed, listened, without understanding a word, to this conversation in which he did not dare to take part, as he feared, if he spoke, he might make some mistake; but the count freed him from his embarrassment by turning and saying to him—
"I am sure you will excuse me, Señor Clary. Reasons of the deepest gravity demand my presence tomorrow at the hacienda; hence it will be impossible for me to accompany you to the governor and introduce you to him. But, though I cannot go myself, I give you in my place a person in whom you can place entire confidence, and I will join you at the ciudad the day after tomorrow. It is in reality, therefore, only a trifling delay of four and twenty hours, which will in no way injure you."
"You know better than I do, señor, what it is best to do, hence do not put yourself out of the way for me; it will be all right if I am permitted to continue my journey tomorrow."
"You can be sure of it."
"But," the countess said, ringing a bell, "after the fatigues to which you have been exposed for two days, you must require a few hours' rest, señor; forgive me for not having thought of it sooner. Be kind enough to follow this peon, who will conduct you to the room prepared for you, and we shall meet again at dinner."
The hunter comprehended that the countess desired to remain alone with her husband. Although he did not feel the slightest need of rest, he bowed respectfully to the lady, and followed the servant. The latter led him in silence to a vast room, in which he invited him to enter, saying that he had three hours before him, which he could pass either in sleeping or smoking. In fact, a hammock of cocoa fibre was suspended in the room, and a mountain of cigars and cigarettes placed on a table. The servant merely told the hunter that he had better not leave his room, as he might lose his way. This was clearly saying to the Canadian that he was regarded as a prisoner, or something very like it; at least he understood it so. He shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, and made the peon a sign to leave him alone, which the other at once obeyed.
"By Jove!" the hunter said, as he lay down in the hammock, and lit a cigar, "It must be confessed that this Don Fadrique, this Count de Melgosa, is a somewhat mysterious being, and guards himself with as much care as if he had a kingdom to defend; but what do I care? Thank heaven! I have not to stay here long, and have no intention of carrying his wigwam by storm."
He looked round and saw that not only had cigars been brought for him, but that refreshments had been added in the shape of severalbotas, containing pulque, mezcal, and Catalonian refino.
"Come," he said, "I was prejudiced against my host. He is decidedly a famous fellow."
After this consoling reflection the hunter rose and went to the table, doubtless with the intention of tasting the liquors upon it, and spending in the most agreeable way possible the hours at his disposal.
The dinner was rather gloomy. The countess was not present, but sent her apologies to the hunter, who was not broken hearted at her absence; for, in spite of the old lady's gracious manners, he felt constrained in her presence. When the dinner was ended the count repeated that it was impossible for him to accompany him on the morrow, but would give him a sure guide. He handed him a letter of recommendation for the governor, and, after renewing to the Canadian his promise of joining him on the following day, he took leave of him for the night, and retired.
The adventurer was not sorry to be alone. In spite of the count's attention he retained in his manner toward him a certain aristocratic hauteur, which hurt him, although it was impossible for him to display the dissatisfaction he felt. The same silent domestic who had already served him led Oliver to his room, and took leave of him after bidding him good night. The hunter, wearied more by the inactivity to which he was condemned for some hours than by his morning's ride, threw himself on the leather-covered frame which serves as a bed in all Mexican houses, shut his eyes, and speedily fell asleep.
At sunrise he woke. At the same moment the peon who seemed appointed to wait on him entered his room and announced that if he were ready all the preparations were made. Oliver asked to take leave of the master and mistress of the house; but, on being told that they could not receive anybody, he followed his guide without asking him any further questions. The latter led him through several yards, took passages different from those by which the hunter had entered the hacienda, and took him out on the opposite side to the one by which he had come in. After crossing the drawbridge the hunter turned as if to say good-bye to the guide, but the latter told him that he had orders to accompany him to the spot where the horses were, and they descended the hill by a track quite as rough as the one by which the Canadian had ascended on the previous day. On the opposite bank of the river, three horsemen, armed with long lances, one of whom held the hunter's horse by the bridle, were waiting motionless, ready to start at the first signal. In the leader of this little party the Canadian recognized with some degree of pleasure Diego López, who was relatively an old acquaintance. When they had crossed the moat, López came to meet them.
"Here is the man," said the peon.
"Very good," Diego López answered laconically.
"You know what you have to do?"
"I do."
"In that case, good-bye."
And he then turned to the hunter, who had mounted by this time.
"A pleasant journey, Señor Forastero," he said, with a mocking accent most offensive to the Canadian.
"Shall we start, señor?" Diego asked the hunter.
"Whenever you please," said the latter, as he drew up by the side of his guide.
They started at a gallop, and remained silent for a long time.
"Are we very far from Leona Vicario?" the hunter at length asked, feeling wearied of this silence and disposed to talk with his comrade.
"No!" the latter answered.
"Well, you are no great talker, my friend," the Canadian continued.
"What is the good of talking when you have nothing to say, especially when in the company of a heretic?"
"A heretic!" the adventurer said, "Hang me if that is true."
"Are you not an Englishman?"
"I? Not a bit of it."
"All strangers are Englishmen," Diego López, said, sententiously.
"How famously you fellows are taught. It is curious enough."
"And all Englishmen are heretics," the peon continued, calmly.
"Be kind enough to tell me," the hunter said, with a grin, "who teaches you all these pretty things?"
"Why should I tell you?"
"For two reasons. In the first place, for my personal satisfaction; and next, for my instruction."
"It is our priests."
"Ah! Very good. I thank you. Why, my friend, if it cause you any pleasure, learn first that I am not an Englishman but a Canadian, which is not at all the same thing; next, not only that I am no heretic, but at the least quite as good a Catholic as yourself, I flatter myself."
"Is what you are saying true?" Diego López asked, as he drew close to the hunter.
"Why should I tell a falsehood?"
"Well! Why did you not tell that to El Señor Conde?"
"Tell him what?"
"That you are a Catholic."
"Hang it, for the very simple reason that he did not ask me."
"That is true; but no matter, it is a misfortune."
"Why so?"
"Because you would have been present at the anniversary service."
"What anniversary?"
"The one held every year at the hacienda in remembrance of the assassination of the brother of the Señor Conde, who was treacherously killed by the redskins."
"I am really vexed that I did not know that sooner, for I should have made a point of attending that service. Stay, in order that you may not have the slightest doubt about me," he added, as he took out of his bosom a small silver cross, hanging round his neck by a steel chain, "look at this. Is it a heretic plaything?"
"Good," the peon said, with evident satisfaction. "I see that you are a worthy man, and not a dog of an Englishman. Do you love the English?"
"I cannot bear them."
"Our priests say that they will all be condemned."
"I hope so," the Canadian said, with a laugh.
"They deserve it, for they aregringos."
"So we are friends?"
"Yes; and to prove it, I will give you a piece of advice, if you like."