"My mother! ho, pardon me!" Loyal Heart cried, "my God! how you must have suffered."
"Begone, begone, Rafaël!" she repeated, smothering him with kisses; "leave me to die in your place; ought not a mother to give her life for her child?"
"Oh do not speak so, my mother! you will drive me mad," said the young man, clasping her in his arms with despair.
By this time the emotion caused by the sudden appearance of Loyal Heart had subsided, the Indian warriors had recovered that stoicism which they affect under all circumstances.
Eagle Head advanced towards the hunter.
"My brother is welcome," he said, "I had given over expecting him."
"I am here; it was impossible to arrive sooner; my mother is free, I suppose?"
"She is free."
"She may go where she pleases?"
"Where she pleases."
"No," said the prisoner, placing herself resolutely in front of the Indian chief, "it is too late, it is I who am to suffer; my son has no right to take my place."
"Dear mother, what are you saying?"
"That which is just," she replied with animation; "the time at which you were to have come is past, you have no right to be here to prevent my death. Begone, begone, Rafaël, I implore you!—Leave me to die to save you," she added, bursting into tears and throwing herself into his arms.
"My mother," the young man replied, returning her caresses, "your love for me misleads you; I cannot allow such a crime to be accomplished, I alone ought to be here."
"My God! my God!" the poor mother exclaimed, sobbing, "he will not understand anything! I should be so happy to die for him."
Overcome by emotions too powerful for nature, the poor mother sunk fainting into the arms of her son.
Loyal Heart impressed a long and tender kiss upon her brow, and placing her in the hands of Nô Eusebio, who had arrived some minutes before: said in a voice choked with grief.
"Begone, poor mother, may she be happy, if happiness can exist for her without her child."
The old servant sighed, pressed the hand of Loyal Heart warmly, and placing the lifeless form of his mistress before him in the saddle, he turned his horse's head and left the camp slowly, no one attempting to oppose his departure.
Loyal Heart looked after his mother as long as he could see her; then, when she disappeared, and the steps of the horse that bore her could no longer be heard, he breathed a deep, broken sigh, and passing his hand over his brow, murmured,—
"All is ended! My God, watch over her!"
Then, turning towards the Indian chief who surveyed him in silence, mingled with respect and admiration—he said in a firm clear voice, and with a contemptuous look,—
"Comanche warriors! you are all cowards! brave men do not torture women!"
Eagle Head smiled.
"We shall see," he said ironically, "if the pale trapper is as brave as he pretends to be."
"At least I shall know how to die like a man," he replied haughtily.
"The mother of the hunter is free."
"Yes. Well! what do you want with me?"
"A prisoner has no arms."
"That's true," he said, with a smile of contempt, "I will give you mine."
"Not yet, if you please, good friend!" said a clear, sarcastic voice; and Belhumeur rode up, bearing across the front of his saddle a child of four or five years of age, and a rather pretty young Indian Squaw securely fastened to the tail of his horse.
"My son! my wife!" cried Eagle Head, in great terror.
"Yes," said the Canadian jeeringly, "your wife and child, whom I have made prisoners. Ah ah! that is pretty well played, is it not?"
At a signal from his friend, Loyal Heart bounded on the woman, whose teeth chattered with fear, and who cast terrified looks on all sides.
"Now," Belhumeur continued with a sinister smile, "let us talk a bit; I think I have equalized the chances a little—what say you?"
And he placed the muzzle of a pistol to the brow of the little creature, which uttered loud cries on feeling the cold iron.
"Oh!" cried Eagle Head, in a tone of despair, "my son! restore me my son!"
"And your wife—do you forget her?" Belhumeur replied, with an ironical smile, and shrugging his shoulders.
"What are your conditions?" Eagle Head asked.
The position was completely changed.
The hunters, who a moment before were at the mercy of the Indians, felt they were not only in a manner free, but that they had it in their power to impose hard conditions.
Many guns were levelled in the direction of the Canadian—many arrows were pointed towards him; but, at a signal from Eagle Head, the guns were recovered, and the arrows were returned to the quivers.
The shame of being foiled by two men who audaciously braved them in the middle of their own camp, made the hearts of the Comanches burn with anger. They were sensible of the impossibility of contending with their desperate adversaries. In fact, what could they do against these intrepid wood rangers, who reckoned life as nothing?
Kill them?
But, in falling, they would slaughter without pity the prisoners whom the Comanches were anxious to save. The most strongly developed feeling among redskins is love of family.
For the sake of his children or his wife, the fiercest warrior would not hesitate to make concessions which the most frightful tortures, under other circumstances, could not force from him. Thus, at the sight of his wife and child fallen into the power of Belhumeur, Eagle Head only thought of their safety.
Of all men, Indians are perhaps those who know how to bend with the greatest facility to the exigencies of an unforeseen situation.
The Comanche chief concealed in the depths of his heart the hatred and anger which devoured him. With a movement full of nobleness and disinterestedness, he threw back the blanket which served him as a cloak, and with a calm countenance and a smile on his lips, he approached the hunters.
The latter, long accustomed to the mode of action of the redskins, remained in appearance impassible, awaiting the result of their boldcoup de main.
"My pale brothers," the chief said, "are full of wisdom, though their hair is black; they are acquainted with all the stratagems familiar to great warriors; they have the cunning of the beaver and the courage of the lion."
The two men bowed in silence, and Eagle Head continued,—
"As my brother Loyal Heart is in the camp of the Comanches of the great lakes, the hour has at length arrived for dispersing the clouds which have arisen between him and the redskins. Loyal Heart is just; let him explain himself without fear; he is in the presence of renowned chiefs, who will not hesitate to acknowledge their wrongs, if they have any towards him."
"Oh! oh!" the Canadian replied with a sneer; "Eagle Head has quickly changed his sentiments with respect to us; does he believe he can deceive us with vain words?"
A flash of hatred sparkled in the savage eye of the Indian; but, with an extraordinary effort, he succeeded in restraining himself.
Suddenly a man stepped between the interlocutors.
This man was Eshis, the most highly venerated warrior of the tribe.
The old man slowly raised his arm.
"Let my children listen to me," he said; "everything should be cleared up today; the pale hunters will smoke the calumet in council."
"Be it so," said Loyal Heart.
Upon a signal from the Sun the principal chiefs of the tribe came and ranged themselves around him.
Belhumeur had not changed his position; he was ready, at the slightest doubtful gesture, to sacrifice his prisoners.
When the pipe had gone the round of the circle formed near the hunters, the old chief collected himself; then, after bowing to the whites, he spoke as follows:—
"Warriors, I thank the Master of Life for loving us redskins, and for having this day sent us two pale men, who may at length open their hearts. Take courage, young men; do not allow yourselves to be cast down, and drive away the evil spirit far from you. We love you, Loyal Heart; we have heard of your humanity towards Indians. We believe that your heart is open, and that your veins flow clear as the sun. It is true that we Indians have not much sense when the firewater has power over us, and that we may have displeased you in various circumstances. But we hope you will think no more of it; and that, as long as you and we shall be in the prairies, we shall hunt side by side, as warriors who respect and love each other ought to do."
To which Loyal Heart replied:—
"You, chiefs and other members of the nation of the Comanches of the great lakes, whose eyes are opened, I hope you will lend an ear to the words of my mouth. The Master of Life has opened my brain, and caused friendly words to be breathed into my breast. My heart is filled with feelings for you, your wives, and your children; and what I say to you now proceeds from the roots of the feelings of myself and my friend. Never in the prairie has my hatto been closed against the hunters of your nation. Why then do you make war against us? Why should you torture my mother, who is an old woman, and seek to deprive me of life? I am averse to the shedding of Indian blood; for, I repeat to you, that notwithstanding all the ill you have done me, my heart leaps towards you!"
"Wah!" interrupted Eagle Head; "my brother speaks well: but the wound he inflicted upon me is not yet healed."
"My brother is foolish," the hunter replied; "does he think me so unskilful that I could not have killed him, if such had been my intention? I will prove to you what I am capable of, and what I understand by the courage of a warrior. If I make but a sign, that woman and that childwill have ceased to live!"
"Yes!" Belhumeur added.
A shudder ran through the ranks of the assembly. Eagle Head felt a cold perspiration pealing on his temples.
Loyal Heart preserved silence for a minute, fixing an indefinable look upon the Indians; then, raising his shoulders with disdain, he threw his weapons at his feet, and crossing his arms upon his breast, he turned towards the Canadian.
"Belhumeur," he said, in a calm, clear voice, "restore these two poor creatures to liberty."
"How can you dream of such a thing?" cried the astonished hunter; "why, that would be your sentence of death!"
"I know it would."
"Well?"
"I beg you to do it."
The Canadian made no reply. He began to whistle between his teeth, and, drawing his knife, he, at a stroke, cut the bonds which confined his captives, who bounded away like jaguars, uttering howlings of joy, to conceal themselves among their friends. He then replaced his knife in his belt, threw down his weapons, dismounted, and went and placed himself resolutely by the side of Loyal Heart.
"What are you doing?" the latter cried. "Make your escape, my friend."
"What! save myself and leave you?" the Canadian replied, carelessly. "No, thank you. As I must die once, I had quite as lief it should be today as hereafter. I shall never, perhaps, find so good an opportunity."
The two men shook hands with an energetic grip.
"Now, chiefs," Loyal Heart said, addressing the Indians in his clear, calm voice, "we are in your power, do with us as you think proper."
The Comanches looked at each other for an instant in a state of stupor. The stoical abnegation of these two men, who, by the bold action of one of them, might not only have escaped, but have dictated terms to them, and who, instead of profiting by this immense advantage, threw down their weapons and delivered themselves into their hands, appeared to them to exceed all instances of heroism celebrated in their nation.
There followed a sufficiently long silence, during which the hearts might be heard beating in the breasts of those men of bronze, who, by their primitive impulsive education, are more apt than might be believed to understand all true feelings, and appreciate all really noble actions.
At length Eagle Head, after a little hesitation, threw down his arms, and approaching the hunters, said, in an agitated voice, which contrasted with the stoical and indifferent appearance he sought in vain to preserve,—
"It is true, warriors of the palefaces, that you have great sense, that it sweetens the words you address to us, and that we all understand you; we know also that truth opens your lips. It is very difficult for us Indians, who have not the reason of the whites, to avoid often committing, without wishing to do so, reprehensible actions; but we hope that Loyal Heart will take the skin from his heart, so that it may be as clear as ours, and that between us the hatchet may be buried so deeply that the sons of the sons of his grandsons, in a thousand moons and a hundred more, will not be able to find it."
And placing his two hands upon the shoulders of the hunter, he kissed him upon the eyes, adding,—
"May Loyal Heart be my brother!"
"Be it so!" said the hunter, rejoiced at this conclusion; "henceforth I shall entertain for the Comanches as much friendship as, up to this time, I have had mistrust."
The Indian chiefs crowded round their new friends, upon whom they lavished, with the ingenuousness that characterizes primitive natures, marks of affection and respect.
The two hunters had been long known in the tribe of the Serpent; their reputation was established. Often at night, around their campfire, their exploits had struck with admiration the young men to whom the old warriors related them.
The reconciliation was frank between Loyal Heart and Eagle Head; there did not remain between them the least trace of their past hatred. The heroism of the white hunter had conquered the animosity of the redskin warrior.
The two men were chatting, peaceably seated at the entrance of a hut, when a great cry was heard, and an Indian, with his features distorted by terror, rushed into the camp.
All crowded round this man to learn his news; but the Indian, perceiving Eagle Head, advanced towards him.
"What is going on?" the chief asked.
The Indian cast a ferocious look at Loyal Heart and Belhumeur, who had no more idea than the others of the cause of this panic.
"Take care that these two palefaces do not escape; we are betrayed," he said, in a broken voice, panting from the speed with which he had come.
"Let my brother explain himself more clearly," said Eagle Head.
"All the white trappers, the long knives of the west, are assembled; they form a war detachment of near a hundred men; they are advancing and spreading themselves in such a manner, as to invest the camp on all sides at once."
"Are you sure these hunters come as enemies?" said the chief again.
"What else can they be?" the Indian warrior replied. "They are creeping like serpents through the high grass, with their guns before them, and their scalping knives in their teeth. Chief, we are betrayed; these men have been sent among us to lull our vigilance to sleep."
Eagle Head and Loyal Heart exchanged a glance of an undefinable expression, and which was an enigma for all but themselves.
The Comanche chief turned towards the Indian.
"Did you see," he said, "who marched at the head of the hunters?"
"Yes, I saw him."
"Was it Amick (Black Elk), the principal guardian of Loyal Heart's traps?"
"Who else could it be?"
"Very well! Retire," said the warrior, dismissing the messenger with a nod of the head; then, addressing the hunter, he asked,
"What is to be done?"
"Nothing," Loyal Heart replied, "this concerns me, my brother must leave me to act alone."
"My brother is master!"
"I will go and meet these hunters; let Eagle Head keep his young men in the camp till my return."
"That shall be done."
Loyal Heart threw his gun upon his shoulder, gave Belhumeur a shake of the hand, and a smile to the Comanche chief, and then directed his course to the forest, at that pace, at once firm and easy, which was habitual to him.
He soon disappeared among the trees.
"Hum;" said Belhumeur, lighting his Indian pipe, and addressing Eagle Head, "you see, chief, that in this world, it is not often a bad speculation, to allow ourselves to be guided by our hearts."
And satisfied beyond measure with this philosophical fancy, which appeared to him quite to the purpose, the Canadian enveloped himself in a thick cloud of smoke.
By the orders of the chief, all the sentinels spread round the outskirts of the camp were called in.
The Indians awaited with impatience the result of Loyal Heart's proceedings.
It was evening, at a distance nearly equal from the camp of the Mexicans, and that of the Comanches.
Concealed in a ravine, deeply enclosed between two hills, about forty men were assembled around several fires, dispersed in such a manner that the light of the flames could not betray their presence.
The strange appearance offered by this assemblage of adventurers, with gloomy features, ferocious glances, and strange and mean attire, offered a feature worthy of the crayon of Callot, or the pencil of Salvator Rosa.
These men, a heterogeneous mixture of all the nationalities that people the two worlds, from Russia to China, were the most complete collection of scoundrels that can be imagined; thorough food for the gallows, without faith or law, fire or home, the true outcasts of society, which had rejected them from its bosom, obliged to seek a refuge in the depths of the prairies of the west; even in these deserts they formed a band apart, fighting sometimes against the hunters, sometimes against the Indians, excelling both in cruelty and roguery.
These men were, in a word, what people have agreed to call, the pirates of the prairies.
A denomination which suits them in every way, since, like their brothers of the ocean, hoisting all colours, or rather tramping them all underfoot, they fall upon every traveller who ventures to cross the prairies alone, attack and plunder caravans, and when all other prey escapes them, they hide themselves traitorously in the high grass to entrap the Indians, whom they assassinate in order to gain the premium which the paternal government of the United States gives for every aboriginal scalp, as in France they pay for the head of a wolf.
This troop was commanded by Captain Waktehno, whom we have already had occasion to bring on the scene.
There prevailed at this moment among these bandits an agitation that presaged some mysterious expedition.
Some were cleaning and loading their arms, others mending their clothes; some were smoking and drinking mezcal, others were asleep, folded in their ragged cloaks.
The horses, all saddled and ready for mounting, were fastened to pickets.
At stated distances, sentinels, leaning on their long rifles, silent and motionless as statues of bronze, watched over the safety of all.
The dying flashes of the fires, which were expiring by degrees, threw a reddish reflection upon this picture that gave the pirates a still fiercer aspect.
The captain appeared a prey to extreme anxiety; he walked with long strides among his subordinates, stamping his foot with anger, and stopping at intervals to listen to the sound of the prairies.
The night became darker and darker, the moon had disappeared, the wind moaned hoarsely among the hills, and the pirates had eventually fallen asleep one after another.
The captain alone still watched.
All at once he fancied that he heard at a distance the report of firearms, then a second, and all again was silent.
"What does this mean?" the captain murmured, angrily; "have my rascals allowed themselves to be surprised?"
Then, folding himself carefully in his cloak, he hastily directed his course to the side whence the reports appeared to come.
The darkness was intense; and, notwithstanding his knowledge of the country, the captain could only advance with difficulty through brambles, thistles, and briars, which, at every step, impeded his progress. He was several times obliged to stop and look about him to be sure of his route, from which the turnings and windings necessitated by blocks of rock and thickets, continually diverted him.
During one of these halts, he fancied he could perceive, at a small distance from him, the rustling of leaves and boughs, like that which is produced by the passage of a man or a wild beast through underwood.
The captain concealed himself behind the trunk of a gigantic acajou, drew his pistols, and cocked them, in order to be prepared for whatever might happen; then, bending his head forward, he listened.
All was calm around him; it was that mysterious time of night when Nature seems to sleep, and when all the nameless sounds of the solitude are quieted down, so that, as the Indians express it, nothing is to be heard but silence.
"I must have been deceived," the pirate muttered; and he began to retrace his steps. But, at that moment, the noise was repeated, nearer and more distinctly, and was immediately followed by a stifled groan.
"The devil!" said the captain; "this begins to be interesting: I must clear this up."
After a hasty movement forward of a few steps, he saw, gliding along, at a short distance from him, the scarcely distinguishable shadow of a man. This person, whoever he was, seemed to walk with difficulty; he staggered at every step, and stopped at intervals, as if to recover strength. He frequently allowed a smothered complaint to escape him. The captain sprang forward, to bar his passage. When the unknown perceived him, he uttered a cry of terror, and fell on his knees, murmuring in a voice broken by terror—
"Pardon! pardon! do not kill me!"
"Why!" exclaimed the astonished captain, "it is the Babbler! Who the devil has treated him in this fashion?"
And he bent over him.
It was indeed the guide.
He had fainted.
"Plague stifle the fool!" the captain muttered, with vexation. "What's the use of asking him anything now?"
But the pirate was a man of resources; he replaced his pistols in his belt, and raising the wounded man, he threw him over his shoulders.
Loaded with his burden, which scarcely seemed to lessen his speed, he hastily returned to the camp by the way he had left it.
He deposited the guide close to a half-extinguished brazier, into which he threw an armful of dry wood to revive it. A clear blaze soon enabled him to examine the man who lay senseless at his feet.
The features of the Babbler were livid, a cold perspiration stood in drops upon his temples, and the blood flowed in abundance from a wound in his breast.
"Cascaras!" the captain muttered; "here is a poor devil who has got his business done! I hope before he departs he will, however, tell me who has done him this favour, and what has become of Kennedy!"
Like all the wood rangers, the captain possessed a small practical knowledge of medicine; it was nothing new to him to dress a shot wound.
Thanks to the attentions he lavished on the bandit, the latter was not long in coming to himself. He breathed a heavy sigh, opened his haggard eyes, but remained for some time unable to speak; after several fruitless efforts, however, aided by the captain, he succeeded in sitting up, and shaking his head repeatedly, he murmured in a low, broken voice:
"All is lost, captain! Our plan has failed!"
"A thousand thunders!" the captain cried, stamping his feet with rage. "How has this happened?"
"The girl is a demon!" the guide replied, whose difficult respiration and gradually weaker voice showed that he had but a few minutes to live.
"If you can manage, anyhow," said the captain, who had understood nothing by the exclamation of the wounded man, "tell me how things have gone on, and who is your assassin, that I may avenge you."
A sinister smile painfully crossed the violet lips of the guide.
"The name of my assassin?" he said, in an ironical tone.
"Yes."
"Well, her name is Doña Luz."
"Doña Luz!" the captain cried, starting with surprise, "impossible!"
"Listen," the guide resumed; "my moments are numbered; I shall soon be a dead man. In my position people don't lie. Let me speak without interrupting me. I don't know whether I shall have time to tell you all, before I go to render my account to Him who knows everything."
"Speak!" said the captain.
And, as the voice of the wounded man became weaker and weaker, he went down upon his knees close to him, in order to lose none of his words.
The guide closed his eyes, collected himself for a few seconds, and then, with great effort, said,—
"Give me some brandy?"
"You must be mad! brandy will kill you!"
The wounded man shook his head.
"It will give me the necessary strength to enable me to tell you all I have to say. Am I not already half dead!"
"That's true," muttered the captain.
"Do not hesitate, then," the wounded man replied, who had heard him; "time presses; I have important things to inform you of."
"If it must be so, it must," said the captain, after a moment's hesitation; and taking his gourd, he applied it to the lips of the guide.
The latter drank eagerly and copiously; a feverish flush coloured his hollow cheeks, his almost extinguished eyes flashed and gleamed with an unnatural fire.
"Now," he said, in a firm and pretty loud voice, "do not interrupt me: when you see me become weak, let me drink again. I, perhaps, shall have time to tell you all."
The captain made a sign of assent, and the Babbler began.
His recital was rendered long by the repeated weakness with which he was seized; when it was terminated, he added,—
"You see, that this woman is, as I have told you, a demon; she has killed both Kennedy and me. Renounce the capture of her, captain; she is game you cannot bring down; you will never get possession of her."
"Hum!" said the captain, knitting his brows; "do you imagine that I give up my projects in that fashion?"
"I wish you luck, then," the guide murmured; "as for me, my business is done—my account is settled. Adieu, captain!" he added, with a strange sort of smile, "I am going to all the devils—we shall meet again yonder."
And he sank back.
The captain endeavoured to raise him again; but he was dead.
"A good journey to you!" he muttered, carelessly. He took the corpse upon his shoulders, carried it into a thicket, in the middle of which he made a hole, and placed it in it; then, this operation being achieved in a few minutes, he returned to the fire, wrapped himself in his cloak, stretched himself on the sod, with his feet towards the brazier, and fell asleep, saying,—
"In a few hours it will be light, and we will than see what we have to do."
Bandits do not sleep late. At sunrise all were on the alert in the camp of the pirates; everyone was preparing for departure.
The captain, far from renouncing his projects, had, on the contrary, determined to hasten the execution of them, so as not to allow the Mexicans time to find among the white trappers of the prairies auxiliaries who might render success impossible.
As soon as he was certain that the orders he had issued were understood, the captain gave the signal for departure. The troop set off in the Indian fashion, that is to say, literally turning their backs towards the point to which they directed their course. When they arrived at a spot which appeared to present to them the security they desired, the pirates dismounted; the horses were confided to a few determined men, and the rest, crawling along upon the ground like a swarm of vipers, or jumping from branch to branch, and from tree to tree, advanced, with all the customary precautions, towards the camp of the Mexicans.
As we said in a preceding chapter, the doctor had left the camp of the Mexicans, charged by Doña Luz with a message for Black Elk.
Like all learned men, the doctor was absent by nature, and that with the best intentions in the world.
During the first moments, according to the custom of his brethren, he puzzled his brain to endeavour to make out the signification of the words, somewhat cabalistical in his opinion, that he was to repeat to the trapper.
He could not comprehend what assistance his friends could possibly obtain from a half-wild man, who lived alone in the prairie, and whose existence was passed in hunting and trapping.
If he had accepted this mission so promptly, the profound friendship he professed for the niece of the general was the sole cause: although he expected no advantageous result from it, as we have said, he had set out resolutely, convinced that the certainty of his departure would calm the uneasiness of the young lady. In short, he had rather meant to satisfy the caprice of a patient, than undertake a serious affair.
In the persuasion, therefore, that the mission with which he was charged was a useless one, instead of going full speed, as he ought to have done, to the toldo of Black Elk, he dismounted, passed his arm through his bridle, and began to look for simples, an occupation which, ere long, so completely absorbed him, that he entirely forgot the instructions of Doña Luz, and the reason why he had left the camp.
In the meanwhile, time passed slowly because anxiously; half the day was gone, and the doctor, who ought long before to have returned, did not appear.
The uneasiness became great in the camp, where the general and the captain had organized everything for a vigorous defence in case of attack.
But nothing appeared.
The greatest calm continued to prevail in the environs; the Mexicans were not far from thinking it a false alarm.
Doña Luz alone felt her inquietude increase every instant; with her eyes fixed upon the plain, she looked in vain in the direction her expected messengers should arrive by.
All at once, it struck her that the high grass of the prairie had an oscillating motion which was not natural to it.
There was not a breath in the air; a heavy, stifling heat weighed down all nature; the leaves of the trees, scorched by the sun, were motionless; the high grass alone, agitated by a slow and mysterious movement, continued to oscillate.
And, what was most extraordinary, this almost imperceptible motion, which required close attention to be observed, was not general; on the contrary, it was successive, approaching the camp by degrees, with a regularity which gave reason for supposing an organized impulsion; so that, in proportion as it was communicated to the nearest grass, the most distant returned by degrees to a state of complete immobility, from which it did not change.
The sentinels placed in the intrenchments could not tell to what to attribute this movement, of which they understood nothing.
The general, as an experienced soldier, resolved to know what it meant; although he had never personally had to do with the Indians, he had heard too much of their manner of fighting not to suspect some stratagem.
Not wishing to weaken the camp, which stood in need of all its defenders, he resolved himself to undertake the adventure, and go out on the scout.
At the instant he was about to climb over the intrenchments, the captain stopped him, by placing his hand respectfully on his shoulders.
"What do you want with, me, my friend?" the general asked, turning round.
"I wish, with your permission, to put a question to you, general."
"Do so."
"You are leaving the camp?"
"I am."
"To go in search of intelligence, no doubt?"
"I admit that is my intention."
"Then, general, it is to me that mission belongs."
"Ay! how is that?" said the astonished general.
"Good God! general, that is very plain; I am but a poor devil of an officer, and owe everything to you."
"What then?"
"The peril I shall run, if peril there be, will not in any way compromise the success of the expedition; whereas——"
"If you are killed."
The general started.
"Everything must be foreseen and provided for," continued the captain, "when we have before us such adversaries as those that threaten us."
"That is true. What then?"
"Well, the expedition will fail, and not one of us will ever see a civilized country again. You are the head; we are but the arms; remain, therefore, in the camp."
The general reflected for a few seconds; then pressing the hand of the young man cordially, he said,—
"Thank you, but I must see for myself what is being plotted against us. The circumstance is too serious to allow me to trust even to you."
"You must remain in the camp, general," persisted the captain, "if not for our sake, at least for that of your niece, that innocent and delicate creature, who, if any misfortune should happen to you, would find herself alone, abandoned amidst ferocious tribes, without support, and without a protector. Of what consequence is my life to me, a poor lad without a family, who owes everything to your kindness? The hour is come to prove my gratitude—let me discharge my debt."
"But——" the general tried to speak.
"You know," the young man continued, warmly, "if I could take your place with Doña Luz, I would do it with joy; but I am as yet too young to play that noble part. Come, general, let me go instead of you, it is my duty to do so."
Half by persuasion, half by force he succeeded in drawing the old soldier back; he sprang upon the intrenchments, leaped down on the other side, and set off at full speed, after making a last sign of farewell.
The general looked after him as long as he could perceive him; then he passed his hand across his careful brow, murmuring,—
"Brave boy! excellent nature!"
"Is he not, uncle?" Doña Luz replied, who had approached and listened without being seen.
"Ah! were you there, dear child?" he said, with a smile, which he endeavoured in vain to render cheerful.
"Yes, dear uncle, I have heard all."
"That is well, dear little one," the general said, with an effort; "but this is not the time to give way to feeling. I must think of your safety. Do not remain here longer; come with me; an Indian bullet might easily reach you here."
Taking her by the hand, he led her affectionately to the tent.
After leading her in, he gave her a kiss upon her brow, advised her not to go out again, and returned to the intrenchments, where he set himself to watch with the greatest care what was going on in the plain; calculating the while, mentally, the time that had passed since the departure of the doctor, and feeling astonished at not seeing him return.
"He must have fallen in with the Indians," he said; "I only hope they have not killed him."
Captain Aguilar was an intrepid soldier, trained in the incessant wars of Mexico; he knew how to unite prudence with courage.
When he arrived at a certain distance from the camp, he laid himself on the ground, face downwards, and reached, by creeping along thus, a rough piece of rock, admirably situated for concealment and observation.
Everything appeared quiet around him; nothing denoted the approach of an enemy. After spending a sufficient time in keenly exploring with his eyes the country beyond him, he was preparing to return to the camp, with a conviction that the general was deceived, and no imminent peril existed, when suddenly, within ten paces of him, an asshata bounded up in great terror, with ears erect and head thrown back, and fled away with extreme velocity.
"Oh! oh!" the young man said to himself, "there is something here, though. Let us try if we cannot make out what."
Quitting the rock behind which he had been screened, he, with great precaution, advanced a few steps, in order to satisfy his suspicions.
The grass became powerfully agitated, half a score men arose suddenly from various points, and surrounded him before he had time to put himself on the defensive, or regain the shelter he had imprudently quitted.
"Well," he said, with disdainful coolness, "luckily I know now with whom I have to deal."
"Surrender!" one of the men nearest to him shouted.
"No, thank you," he replied, with an ironical smile. "You are fools if you expect that. You must kill me out and out before you take me."
"Then we will kill you, my dainty spark," the first speaker answered, brutally.
"I reckon upon that," said the captain, in a jeering tone; "but I mean to defend myself; that will make a noise, my friends will hear us, your surprise will be a failure, and that is exactly what I wish."
These words were pronounced with a coolness that made the pirates pause. These men belonged to the band of Captain Waktehno, who was himself among them.
"Yes," retorted the captain of the bandits, "your idea is not a bad one, only you forget that we can kill you without making a noise; and so your clever plan will come to nothing."
"Bah! who knows?" said the young man, and before the pirates could prevent him, he made an extraordinary spring backwards, by which he overset two men, and ran with his best speed in the direction of the camp.
The first surprise over, the bandits darted forward in pursuit of him.
This trial of speed lasted a considerable time without the pirates being able to perceive that they gained ground on the fugitive. Though not relaxing in the pursuit, as they tried as much as possible to avoid being seen by the Mexican sentinels, whom they hoped to surprise, they were obliged to make turnings which necessarily impeded their course.
The captain had arrived within hearing of his friends, and he cast a glance behind him. Profiting by a moment in which he had paused to take breath, the bandits had gained upon him considerably, and the young man became aware that if he continued to fly, he should cause the misfortune he wished to avoid.
His determination was formed in an instant; he was satisfied he must die, but he wished to die as a soldier, and make his fall useful to those for whom he devoted himself.
He placed his back against a tree, laid his machete within reach, drew his pistols from his belt, and facing the bandits, who were not more than thirty paces from him, he cried in a loud voice, in order to attract the attention of his friends:—
"To arms! to arms! Be on your guard! The enemies are here!"
Then, with the greatest coolness, he discharged his weapons as if at a target—he had four double-barrelled pistols—repeating as every pirate fell, as loud as he could shout,—
"To arms! the enemies are here! they will surround you! Be on your guard! Be on your guard!"
The bandits, exasperated by this brave defence, rushed upon him with great rage, forgetting all the precautions they had till that time taken.
Then commenced a horrible but an almost superhuman struggle of one man against twenty or thirty; for it seemed, as every pirate fell, that another took his place.
The conflict was fearful! The young man had determined to make the sacrifice of his life, but he was equally resolved to sell it dearly.
We have said that at every shot he fired he had uttered a warning cry; his pistols being discharged, at every stroke of his machete that he dealt he did the same, to which the Mexicans replied by keeping up, on their part, a rolling fire of musketry upon the pirates, who showed themselves openly, blindly bent upon the destruction of a man who so audaciously barred their passage with the impenetrable barrier of his loyal breast.
At length the captain was brought down on one knee. The pirates rushed upon him, pell-mell, wounding each other in their frantic efforts to destroy him.
Such a combat could not last long.
Captain Aguilar fell, but in falling he drew with him a dozen pirates he had immolated, and who formed a bloody escort on his passage to the tomb.
"Hum!" muttered Captain Waktehno, surveying him with admiration, whilst staunching the blood of a large wound he had received in the breast; "a roughish sort of fellow! If the others are like him, we shall have more than our work to do. Come!" he continued turning towards his companions, who awaited his orders, "do not let us stand here any longer to be shot at like pigeons. To the assault, in God's name!—to the assault!"
The pirates rushed after him, brandishing their arms, and began to climb the rock, vociferating, "To the assault! to the assault!"
On their side, the Mexicans, witnesses of the heroic death of Captain Aguilar, prepared to avenge him.
Whilst these terrible events were being accomplished, the doctor was quietly herbalizing. The worthysavant, enraptured by the richflorahe had beneath his eyes, had forgotten everything but the thoughts of the ample harvest he could make. He proceeded with his body bent towards the ground, stopping for a long time before every plant he admired, ere he resolved to pull it up.
When he had loaded himself with an infinite number of plants and herbs exceedingly valuable to him, he resolved at length to seat himself quietly at the foot of a tree, and classify them at his ease, with all the care that celebrated professors are accustomed to bring to this delicate operation, mumbling in the meantime, some morsels of biscuit which he drew from his bag.
He remained a long time absorbed in this occupation, which procured him one of those extreme delights which the learned alone can enjoy, and which are unknown to the vulgar. He would probably have forgotten himself in this labour until night had surprised him, and forced him to seek shelter, had not a dark shadow come between him and the sun, and projected its reflection upon the plants he had classified with so much care.
He mechanically raised his head.
A man, leaning on a long rifle, had stopped before him, and was contemplating him with a kind of laughing attention. This man was Black Elk.
"He! he!" he said to the doctor, "what are you doing there, my good sir? Seeing the grass moved about so, I thought there was a doe in the thicket, and, devil take me! if I was not on the point of sending a bullet at you."
"The deuce!" the doctor cried, eyeing him with an expression of terror, "you should be careful; do you know you might have killed me?"
"Well, I might," the trapper replied, laughing; "but don't be afraid! I perceived my error in time."
"God be praised!"
And the doctor, who had just perceived a rare plant stooped eagerly to seize it.
"Then you won't tell me what you are doing?" the hunter continued.
"Why, can't you see, my friend?"
"Who, I? Yes; I see you are amusing yourself with pulling up the weeds of the prairie, that is all; and I should like to know what for?"
"Oh! ignorance!" the savant murmured, and then added aloud with that tone of doctorial condescension peculiar to the disciples of Æsculapius: "my friend, I am gathering simples, which I collect, in order to classify them in my herbal; thefloraof these prairies is magnificent; I am convinced that I have discovered at least three new species of theChirostemon pentadactylon,of which the genus belongs to theFlora Mexicana."
"Ah!" said the hunter, staring with all his eyes, and making strong efforts to refrain from laughing in the doctor's face. "You think you have really found three new species of—"
"Chirostemon pentadactylon, my friend," said the doctor, patronizingly.
"Ah! bah!"
"At least; perhaps there may be a fourth!"
"Oh! oh! there is some use in it, then?"
"Some use in it, indeed!" the doctor cried, much scandalized.
"Well, don't be angry, I know nothing about it."
"That is true!" said the savant, softened by the tone of Black Elk; "You cannot comprehend the importance of these labours, which advance science at an immense speed."
"Well, only to think! And it was only for the purpose of pulling up herbs in this manner that you came into the prairie?"
"For nothing else."
Black Elk looked at him with the admiration created by the sight of an inexplicable phenomenon; the hunter could not succeed in comprehending how a sensible man should resolve willingly to endure a life of privation and perils for the, to him, unintelligible object of pulling up useless plants; therefore he soon came to a conviction that he must be mad. He cast upon him a look of commiseration; shaking his head, and shouldering his rifle, he prepared to go on his way.
"Well! well!" he said, in the tone usually employed towards children, and idiots; "you are right, my good sir; pull away! pull away! you do nobody any harm, and there will always be plenty left. I wish you good sport; such as it is. I shall see you again."
And, whistling his dogs, he proceeded a few steps, but almost immediately returned.
"One word more," he said, addressing the doctor, who had already forgotten him, and was again busied in the employment which the arrival of the hunter had forced him to interrupt.
"Speak!" he replied, raising his head.
"I hope that the young lady who came to visit my hatto yesterday, in company with her uncle, is well? Poor dear child, you cannot imagine how much I am interested in her, my good sir!"
The doctor rose up suddenly, striking his forehead.
"Fool that I am!" he cried, "I had completely forgotten it."
"Forgotten what?" the astonished hunter asked.
"This is always my way!" the savant muttered; "fortunately the mischief is not great; as you are here, it can easily be repaired."
"What mischief are you talking about?" said the trapper, beginning to feel uneasy.
"You may imagine," the doctor continued, quietly, "that if science absorbs me so completely as to make me often forget to eat and drink, I am likely sometimes not to remember the commissions I am charged with."
"To the point! to the point!" said the hunter impatiently.
"Oh! good Lord, it's very simple. I left the camp at daybreak to come to your hatto; but when I arrived here, I was so charmed with the innumerable rare plants that my horse trod under foot, that without thinking of pursuing my route, I stopped at first to pull up one plant, then I perceived another that was not in my herbal, and another after that, and so on.—In short, I thought no more of coming to you, and was, indeed, so absorbed by my researches, that even your unexpected presence, just now, did not recall to my mind the commission I had to you."
"And did you leave the camp at daybreak?"
"Good Heavens, yes!"
"And do you know what o'clock it is now?"
The savant looked at the sun.
"Almost three!" he said, "but I repeat that it is of little consequence. You being here, I can report to you what Doña Luz charged me to tell you, and all will be right, no doubt."
"God grant that your negligence may not prove the cause of a great misfortune," said the hunter, with a sigh.
"What do you mean by that?"
"You will soon know. I hope I may be deceived. Speak, I am listening to you."
"This is what Doña Luz begged me to repeat to you——"
"Was it Doña Luz that sent you to me?"
"Herself!"
"Has anything serious taken place at the camp, then?"
"Ah! why, yes; and that, perhaps, may make it more important than I at first imagined. This is what has happened: Last night one of our guides——"
"The Babbler?"
"The same. Do you know him?"
"Yes. Go on."
"Well! It appears that the man was plotting with another bandit of his own sort, to deliver up the camp to the Indians. Doña Luz, most probably by chance, overheard the conversation of these fellows, and, at the moment they were passing her, she fired two pistols at them, quite close."
"Did she kill them?"
"Unfortunately, no. One of them, although no doubt grievously wounded, was able to escape."
"Which of them?"
"The Babbler."
"Well, and then?"
"Why, then Doña Luz made me swear to come to you, and say stop a bit," said the savant, trying to recollect the words.
"Black Elk, the hour is come!" the hunter, impetuously interrupted.
"That's it! that's it!" said the savant, rubbing his hands for joy, "I had it at the tip of my tongue. I must confess it appeared rather obscure to me, I could not fancy what it meant; but you will explain it, will you not?"
The hunter seized him vigorously by the arm, and drawing his face close to his own, he said, with an inflamed look and features contracted by anger,—
"Wretched madman! why do you not come to me as quickly as possible, instead of wasting your time like an idiot? Your delay will, perhaps, cause the death of all your friends!"
"Is it possible!" cried the chapfallen doctor, without noticing the somewhat rough manner in which the hunter shook him.
"You were charged with a message of life and death, fool that you are! Now, what is to be done? Perhaps it is too late!"
"Oh! do not say so," said the savant, in great agitation, "I should die with despair if it were so."
The poor man burst into tears, and gave unequivocal proofs of the greatest grief.
Black Elk was obliged to console him.
"Come, come, courage, my good sir!" he said, softening a little. "What the devil, perhaps all is not lost?"
"Oh! if I were the cause of such a misfortune, I should never survive it!"
"Well, what is done, is done; we must act accordingly," said the trapper philosophically. "I will think how they are to be assisted. Thanks be to God, I am not so much alone as might be supposed—I hope within two hours to have got together thirty of the best rifles in the prairies."
"You will save them, will you not?"
"At least, I will do all that can be done, and, if it please God, I shall succeed."
"May Heaven hear you!"
"Amen!" said the hunter, crossing himself devoutly. "Now, listen to me; you must return to the camp."
"Immediately!"
"But no more gathering of flowers, or pulling up of grass, if you please."
"Oh, I swear I will not. Cursed be the hour in which I set myself to herbalize!" said the doctor, with comic despair.
"Very well, that's agreed. You must comfort the young lady as well as her uncle; you must recommend them to keep good guard, and, in case of an attack, to make a vigorous resistance; and tell them they shall soon see friends come to their assistance."
"I will tell them all that."
"To horse, then, and gallop all the way to the camp."
"Be satisfied, I will; but you, what are you going to do?"
"Oh! don't trouble yourself about me. I shall not be idle; all you have to do is to rejoin your friends as soon as possible."
"Within an hour I shall be with them."
"Courage and good luck, then! Above all, don't despair."
Black Elk let go the bridle which he had seized, and the doctor set off at a gallop, a pace to which the good man was so little accustomed, that he had great trouble to preserve his equilibrium.
The trapper watched his departure for an instant, then, turning round, he strode with hasty steps into the forest.
He had scarcely walked ten minutes when he met Nô Eusebio, who was conveying the mother of Loyal Heart across his saddle, in a fainting state.
This meeting was for the trapper a piece of good fortune, of which he took advantage to obtain from the old Spaniard some positive information about the hunter—information which Eusebio hastened to give him.
The two men then repaired to the hatto of the trapper, from which they were but a short distance, and in which they wished to place the mother of their friend for the present.
We must now return to Loyal Heart.
After walking straight forward about ten minutes, without giving himself the trouble to follow one of those innumerable paths that intersect the prairie in all directions, the hunter stopped, put the butt end of his gun to the ground, looked round carefully on all sides, lent his ear to those thousands of noises of the desert which all have a meaning for the man accustomed to a prairie life; and, probably satisfied with the result of his observations, he imitated, at three different equal intervals the cry of the pie, with such perfection, that several of those birds, concealed among the thickest of the trees, replied to him immediately.
The third cry had scarcely ceased to vibrate in the air, ere the forest, mute till that moment, and apparently plunged in complete solitude, became animated as if by enchantment.
On all sides arose, from the midst of bushes and grass, in which they had been concealed, a crowd of hunters with energetic countenances and picturesque costumes, who formed, in an instant, a dense crowd round the trapper.
It chanced that the two first faces that caught the eye of Loyal Heart were those of Black Elk and Nô Eusebio, both posted at a few paces from him.
"Oh!" he said, holding out his hand eagerly; "I understand it all, my friends. Thanks! a thousand thanks for your cordial coming; but, praise be to God! your succour is not necessary."
"So much the better!" said Black Elk.
"But how did you get out of the hands of those devilish redskins?" the old servant asked, eagerly.
"Don't speak ill of the Comanches," Loyal Heart replied, with a smile; "they are now my brothers."
"Do you speak seriously?" cried Black Elk, with warmth; "can you really be on good terms with the Indians?"
"You shall judge for yourself. Peace is made between them and me, my friends. If agreeable to you, I will introduce you to each other."
"By Heaven! at the present moment nothing could fall out more fortunately," said Black Elk; "and as you are free, we shall be able to concern ourselves for other people, who are, at this moment, in great peril, and stand in need of our immediate assistance."
"What do you mean?" Loyal Heart asked, with a curiosity mingled with interest.
"I mean, that some people to whom you have already rendered great services, on the occasion of the last fire in the prairie, are at this moment surrounded by a band of pirates, who will soon attack them, if they have not already done so.
"We must fly to their assistance!" cried Loyal Heart, with an emotion he could not control.
"Well, that was our intention; but we wished to deliver you first, Loyal Heart. You are the soul of our association; without you we should have done no good."
"Thanks! my friends. But now, you see, I am free, so there is nothing to stop us; let us set forward immediately."
"I crave your pardon," Black Elk replied; "but we have to deal with a strong body. The pirates, who know they have no pity to look for, fight like so many tigers. The more numerous we are, the better will be our chance of success."
"That is true; but what do you aim at?"
"At this—since you have made, in our name, peace with the Indians, it could be so managed that they——"
"By Heavens! you are right, Black Elk," Loyal Heart interrupted him, eagerly. "I did not think of that. The Indian warriors will be delighted at the opportunity we shall offer them of showing their valour. They will joyfully assist us in our expedition. I take upon myself to persuade them. Follow me, all of you. I will present you to my new friends."
The trappers drew together, and formed a compact band of forty men.
Arms were reversed, in sign of peace, and all, following the steps of the hunter, directed their course towards the camp of the Comanches.
"And my mother?" Loyal Heart asked Eusebio, with a broken voice.
"She is in safety in the hatto of Black Elk."
"And how is she?"
"As well as you could expect, though suffering from great uneasiness," the old man replied. "Your mother is a woman who only lives by the heart. She is endowed with immense courage, the greatest physical pains glide over her. She now feels but slightly the effects of the atrocious tortures she had begun to undergo."
"God be praised! But she must no longer be left in these mortal doubts; where is your horse?"
"Hidden, close by."
"Mount, and return to my mother. Assure her of my safety, and then both of you retire to the grotto of Verdigris, where she will be out of all danger. You will remain with her. That grotto is easily found; it is situated at a small distance from the rock of the Dead Buffalo. When you get there, you have nothing to do but to let loose my rastreros, which I will leave you, and they will lead you straight to it. Do you clearly understand me?"
"Perfectly."
"Begone then. Here we are at the camp; your presence is useless here, whilst yonder it is indispensable."
"I am gone!"
"Adieu! we'll meet again."
Nô Eusebio whistled the bloodhounds, which he leashed together; he then, after another shake of the hand with his young master, left the troop, turned to the right, and resumed the way to the forest. The hunters, in the meantime, arrived at the entrance of the glade in which the camp of the Indians was established.
The Comanches formed, a few paces behind the first lines of their camp, a vast semicircle, in the centre of which stood their chiefs.
To do honour to their newly-arrived friends, they had put on their handsomest costumes. They were painted and armed for war.
Loyal Heart halted his troop, and continuing to march on alone, he unfolded a buffalo robe, which he waved before him.
Eagle Head then quitted the other chiefs, and advanced on his part to meet the hunter, also waving a buffalo robe in sign of peace.
When the two men were within three paces of each other they stopped. Loyal Heart spoke the first.
"The Master of Life," he said, "sees into our hearts. He knows that among us the road is good and open, and that the words which our lungs breathe and our mouths pronounce are sincere. The white hunters come to visit their red friends."
"They are welcome!" Eagle Head replied cordially, bowing with the grace and majestic nobleness which characterize Indians.
After these words the Comanches and the hunters discharged their pieces into the air, amidst long and loud cries of joy. Then all ceremony was banished; the two bands mingled, and were confounded so thoroughly that, at the end of a few minutes, they only formed one.
Loyal Heart, however, who knew from what Black Elk had told him how precious the moments were, took Eagle Head aside, and explained to him frankly what he expected from his tribe.
The chief smiled at this request.
"My brother shall be satisfied," he said, "let him but wait a little."
Leaving the hunter, he joined the other chiefs. The crier quickly mounted upon the roof of a hut, and convoked with loud cries the most renowned warriors to a meeting in the hut of council.
The demand of Loyal Heart met with general approbation. Ninety chosen warriors, commanded by Eagle Head, were selected to accompany the hunters, and co-operate with all their power to secure the success of the expedition.
When the decision of the chiefs was made known, it created a general joy throughout the tribe.
The allies were to set forward at sunset, in order to surprise the enemy.
The great war-dance, with all the ceremonies usual upon such occasions, was danced, the warriors the while continually repeating in chorus:—
"Master of Life, look upon me with a favourable eye, thou hast given me the courage to open my veins."
When they were on the point of setting out, Eagle Head, who knew what dangerous enemies they were going to attack, selected twenty warriors upon whom he could depend, and sent them forward as scouts, after having given them some scotte wigwas, or bark wood, in order that they might immediately light a fire as a warning in case of alarm.
He then examined the arms of his warriors, and, satisfied with the inspection, he gave the orders for departure.
The Comanches and the trappers took the Indian file, and, preceded by their respective chiefs, they quitted the camp, amidst the good wishes and exhortations of their friends, who accompanied them to the first trees of the forest.
The little army consisted of a hundred and thirty resolute men, perfectly armed, and commanded by chiefs whom no obstacle could stop, no peril could make recede.
The darkness was dense; the moon, veiled by large black clouds, which floated heavily in space, only shed at intervals a dull, rayless light, which, when it disappeared, gave objects a fantastic appearance.
The wind blew in gusts, and filled the ravines with dull, plaintive moans.
In short, this night was one of those which in the history of humanity seemed destined to witness the accomplishment of dismal tragedies.
The warriors marched in silence; they looked in the darkness like a crowd of phantoms escaped from a sepulchre, hastening to accomplish a work without a name, accursed of God, which night alone could veil with its shadow.
At midnight the word "halt" was pronounced in a low voice.
They encamped to await news of the scouts.
That is to say, everyone, whether well or ill placed, laid himself down exactly where he happened to be, in order to be ready at the first signal.
No fire was lighted.
The Indians, who depend upon their scouts, never post sentinels when they are upon the warpath.
Two hours passed away.
The camp of the Mexicans was not more than three miles distant at most; but, before venturing nearer, the chief wished to ascertain whether the route were free or not; in case it should not be so, what were the numbers of the enemy who barred the passage, and what plan of attack they had adopted.
At the moment when Loyal Heart, a prey to impatience, was preparing to go himself to ascertain what was going on, a rustling, almost imperceptible at first, but which by degrees increased in enormous proportions, was heard in the bushes, and two men appeared.
The first was one of the Comanche scouts, the other was the doctor.
The state of the poor savant was truly pitiable.
He had lost his wig; his clothes were in rags; his face was convulsed with terror; in short, his whole person bore evident traces of struggle and combat.
When he was brought before Loyal Heart and Eagle Head, he fell head-foremost to the ground and fainted.
Earnest endeavours were immediately made to restore him to life.