When the two hunters returned to the rancho, Tranquil looked at Loyal Heart.
"Well," he said to him, "and what are you going to do?"
"Well," the other replied with a smile, "the same as you are going to do yourself, I suppose, sleep—for it is close on two o'clock." But noticing the Canadian's anxious air, he hurriedly added—"Pardon me, friend, I forget that you have made a long journey to find me here, and that, probably, you have important matters to communicate to me. Well! if you do not feel too fatigued, I will rekindle the fire, we will sit down by the brasero, and I will listen to you; I do not feel at all disposed for sleep, and the present hour is admirably adapted for confidence."
Tranquil gently shook his head.
"I thank you for your kindness, my friend," he said; "but, on reflection, I prefer deferring the conversation till tomorrow; I have no serious motive that compels me to speak at this moment, and a few hours, more or less, will have no influence in the events I have cause to fear."
"You know better than I do the conduct best suited to you under the circumstances. I merely repeat that I am quite at your service whatever you may be pleased to do."
"Let us sleep," the Canadian answered, with a smile. "Tomorrow, after our visit to Blackbird, we will hold a palaver."
"Be it so, my friend, I will not press you; here is your bed," he added, pointing to the pile of furs.
"It is rare for me to have so good a one in the desert," said Tranquil.
The two men then lay down fraternally side by side, placed their weapons within reach, and ere long the calmness of their breathing indicated that they were asleep. Nothing disturbed the repose they enjoyed, and the night passed quietly. A few minutes before sunrise Loyal Heart awoke; a feeble light was beginning to penetrate into the rancho, through the windows, which had no sheltering or curtains. The hunter rose, and at the moment when he was going to awake his comrade, the latter opened his eyes.
"Ah, ah!" Loyal Heart said, "You are a very light sleeper, my friend."
"It is an old hunter's habit, which I think I should find it difficult to get rid of, unless I remained a long time with you."
"What prevents your doing so? Such a determination would cause great pleasure to my mother and myself."
"Do not form plans, my boy; you know that with us wood rangers we can hardly call the present moment our own, and it would be utter madness for us to enter on the future. We will revert to this subject; but now believe we have something more important to attend to."
"We have to perform the commission Black-deer entrusted to us; are you still of a mind to help me?"
"Certainly: the Chiefs of the tribe received me with too much courtesy for me not to eagerly take the first opportunity that offers to testify to them the lively sympathy I feel for them."
"Well, as it is so, go to your comrades, get ready to mount, and wait for me; I shall join them directly at their calli."
"All right," Tranquil answered.
The two men left the house; No Eusebio had deserted his hammock, and was probably attending to household duties. The Canadian went straight to the calli lent his comrades by the Indians.
Day had by this time entirely broken; the curtains of the callis were raised one after the other, and the Indian squaws were beginning to emerge to go in quest of the necessary wood and water for the preparation of breakfast. Small parties of warriors were going off in different directions, some to indulge in the pleasures of the chase, others to beat the forest and be certain that there was no enemy's trail in the vicinity of the village.
At the moment when the Canadian passed in front of the Medicine lodge, the sorcerer of the tribe came out of it. He held in his hand a calabash filled with water, in which a bunch of wormwood was dipped. The sorcerer ascended to the roof of the Medicine lodge, and turned to the rising sun. At the same instant the hachesto shouted three different times in a powerful voice, "The sun! The sun! The sun!"
A warrior then came out of each calli, holding in his hand, like the sorcerer, a calabash of water with a bunch of wormwood. The sorcerer began an incantation by murmuring mysterious words which he alone comprehended, and sprinkling the four cardinal points with the wormwood, an operation imitated exactly by the warriors. Then, at a signal given by the sorcerer, all the men threw the contents of the calabash towards the sun, shouting at the same time, "Oh, sun! Thou visible representative of the Invisible Master of Life! protect us on this commencing day! Give us water, air, and fire, for the earth belongs to us, and we can defend it!"
After this haughty prayer the warriors re-entered their callis, and the sorcerer descended from his elevated post. Tranquil, who was perfectly conversant with Indian customs, had stopped and waited, in a respectful attitude, the end of the ceremony. When the sorcerer had disappeared in the Medicine lodge, the hunter resumed his walk. The inhabitants of the village, already affected to regard him as one of themselves; they saluted him with a smile and a pleasant word as he passed, and the children ran up laughing to bid him good-day. When Tranquil entered the calli his comrades were still asleep, but he soon roused them.
"Hilloh!" John Davis said, good-humouredly, "You are very early, old hunter. Are we going to make any expedition?"
"Not that I know of, for the present, at any rate," the Canadian answered; "we are merely going to accompany Loyal Heart, while he accomplishes a ceremony."
"What is up, then?"
"The marriage of our friend Black-deer. I supposed it to be good policy not to refuse our aid, especially as you, Davis, have an interest in getting into the good graces of the Indians."
"I should think so. But tell me, old hunter, have you consulted with our friend on the matter that brings me here?"
"Not yet: various reasons urged me to wait for a favourable moment."
"As you please; but you know the matter is pressing."
"I know it, and you can trust to me."
"Oh! I leave you to act entirely as you please. What are we to do now?"
"Nothing but mount our horses, and wait till Loyal Heart comes to fetch us. He has undertaken the management of the ceremony."
"Well, that is not very difficult," the American said, with a laugh.
In an instant the hunters were up, performed their ablutions, and saddled their horses. They had scarce mounted, ere a great noise of shells, drums, and chichikouès, mingled with shouts of joy, shots, and the sharp barking of all the dogs in the village, announced the arrival of Loyal Heart. The young Chief advanced at the head of a numerous procession of Indian warriors, dressed in their most magnificent costumes, armed and painted for war, and mounted on superb mustangs, which they caused to curvet with marks of the most lively delight. The procession halted before the calli.
"Well," Loyal Heart asked, "are you ready?"
"We are waiting for you," Tranquil answered.
"Come on, then."
The five hunters placed themselves by the side of their friend, and the procession started once more. The Indians saw with a lively feeling of pleasure the strange hunters join them; the part Loyal Heart and Tranquil took in the ceremony especially caused them great joy, and inspired them with considerable pride, by proving to them that their Paleface friends, far from despising their customs, or displaying an indifference towards them, took an interest in the ceremony, and evidenced their sympathy with the Comanches by accepting a place in the procession.
Loyal Heart proceeded straight to Blackbird's calli, in front of which a fire had been lighted, and the Chief's family were seated silent and motionless round it. Blackbird, dressed in his grand warpaint, and mounted on his battle charger, rode at the head of some twenty warriors of his family, whom it was easy to recognize as renowned warriors and great braves by the numerous wolf tails with which their heels were adorned. At the moment when the procession reached the great square, a solitary horseman, with a gloomy air and haughty demeanour, was crossing it, and proceeding toward the council lodge. It was Blue-fox. At the sight of the procession a smile of undefinable meaning played round his lips, and he halted to let the Comanche warriors defile before him. Tranquil whispered to Loyal Heart—
"Be on your guard against that man; if I am not greatly mistaken, his mission is only a trap, and he meditates some treachery."
"That is my notion too," the hunter replied; "that gloomy face forebodes nothing good; but the council are warned, and watch him closely."
"I have known him for a long time, he is a thorough-paced villain. I would not let him out of my sight, were I in your place. But we have reached our destination, so let us attend to our own business."
Loyal Heart raised his arm; at this signal the music, if such a name can be given to the abominable row made by all these instruments, which, held by unskilful hands, produced the most discordant sounds, was silent as if by enchantment. The warriors then seized their war whistles, and produced a shrill and prolonged note thrice. A similar whistle was immediately given by Blackbird's party. When the procession halted, a vacant space of about twenty yards was left between the two bands, and Loyal Heart and Tranquil advanced alone into this space, making their horses prance and brandishing their weapons, amid the joyous applause of the crowd, which admired their skill and good countenance. Blackbird and two of his comrades then left their party and rode to meet the hunters, and the five men halted at about halfway. Loyal Heart, after saluting the Chief respectfully, was the first to speak.
"I see that my father is a great Chief," he said; "his head is covered by the sacred feathered cap of the band of the old dogs; numerous exploits are painted on his broad chest; the wolf tails fastened to his heels make a hole in the ground, so many are they. My father must be one of the greatest braves of the Antelope Comanches: he will tell us his name, that I may remember it as that of a Chief of renown in the council, and brave and terrible in combat."
The Chief smiled proudly at this point-blank compliment; he bowed with dignity, and answered—
"My son is young, and yet wisdom dwells in him; his arm is strong in fight, and his tongue is not forked; his renown has reached me; my brothers call him Loyal Heart. Blackbird is happy to see him. What motive brings Loyal Heart to Blackbird with so large a party, when the heart of the Chief is sad, and a cloud has spread over his mind?"
"I know," Loyal Heart answered, "that the Chief is sad, and am aware of the motive of his grief. I have come with the braves who accompany me to restore tranquillity to the mind of the Chief, and change his sorrow into joy."
"My son Loyal Heart will then explain himself without further delay; he knows that a man of heart never plays with the grief of an aged man."
"I know it, and will explain myself without further delay. My father is rich, the Wacondah has always regarded him with a favourable eye; his family is numerous, his sons are already brave warriors, his daughters are virtuous and lovely; one of them, the fairest, perhaps, but certainly the one most beloved, was violently carried off last night by Black-deer."
"Yes," the Chief answered, "a Comanche warrior bore away my daughter Bounding Fawn, and fled with her into the forest."
"That warrior is Black-deer."
"Black-deer is one of the most celebrated warriors and wisest Chiefs of my nation. My heart leaped toward him. Why did he carry off my child?"
"Because Black-deer loves Bounding Fawn; a great brave has the right to take anywhere the wife who pleases him, if he is rich enough to pay her father for her. Blackbird cannot object to that."
"If such be Black-deer's intention, if he offer me a ransom such as a warrior like him ought to pay to a Chief like myself, I will allow that he has acted in an honourable way, and that his intentions were pure; if not, I shall be an implacable enemy to him, because he will have betrayed my confidence and deceived my hopes."
"Blackbird must not hastily judge his friend; I am ordered by Black-deer to pay for Bounding Fawn such a ransom as few Chiefs have ever before received."
"What is the ransom? Where is it?"
"The warriors who accompany me have brought it with them; but before delivering it to my father, I will remark, that he has not invited me to sit down by his fire, or offered me the calumet."
"My son will sit down by my fire, and I will share the calumet with him when the mission he is intrusted with is finished."
"Be it so; my father shall be immediately satisfied."
Loyal Heart, turning to the warriors, who during this conversation, which was sternly demanded by the laws of Indian etiquette, had stood silent and motionless, raised his hand. At once several horsemen left the procession and pranced up to him, brandishing their weapons.
"The ransom!" he merely said.
"One moment," Blackbird objected; "of what does this ransom consist?"
"You shall see," Loyal Heart replied.
"I know that, but should prefer being informed beforehand."
"For what reason?"
"Wah! That I may be in a position to refuse it if I find it unworthy of you."
"You ought not to have such a fear."
"That is possible, still I adhere to what I said."
"As you please," said Loyal Heart.
We must here disclose one of the bad sides of the Indian character. The Redskins are extraordinarily rapacious and avaricious. With them wealth is everything—not wealth as we understand it in our country, for they know not the value of gold: that metal, so precious to us, is as nothing in their eyes; but furs, arms, and horses constitute for these warriors veritable wealth, which they appreciate at its full value. Hence the transactions between the white men and natives become daily more difficult, from the fact that the Indians, seeing with what ardour the peltry dealers seek furs, have attached so high a value to that merchandise, that it is almost impossible for the traders to obtain it; hence arises, to a great extent, the hatred of the whites for the Redskins, who track, scalp, and kill the trappers whenever they meet with them, in order to destroy competition.
Blackbird was an Indian of the old school, gifted with a smart dose of avarice. The worthy Chief was not sorry, before pledging his word, to know what he had to depend on, and if he would make as good a bargain as was stated. This is why he had insisted on the objects comprising the ransom being shown him. Loyal Heart was perfectly acquainted with his man, and hence was not much affected by his demand; he merely ordered the bearers of the ransom to approach.
This ransom had been prepared for a long period by Black-deer, and was really magnificent; it consisted of four mares in foal, four others which had never bred, a three-year old charger, a mustang with slim legs and flashing eye, four muskets, each with twelve charges of powder; and four white female buffalo hides, a colour very rare, and greatly esteemed in this country. As the several articles were presented to the old Chief, his eye dilated under the influence of joy, and flashed with a wild lustre. He required to make extraordinary efforts to preserve the decorum necessary under such circumstances, and confine in his heart the pleasure he felt. When all the presents had been given and placed by him under the immediate guard of his relatives and friends, Loyal Heart spoke again.
"Is my father satisfied?" he asked him.
"Wah!" the old Chief shouted with delight. "My son, Black-deer, is a great brave; he did right to carry off Bounding Fawn, for she is really his."
"Will my father bear witness to that?" the hunter pressed him.
"This very moment," the Chief answered eagerly; "and before all the warriors here present."
"Let my father do so, then, that all may know that Black-deer is no false-tongued thief; and when he declares that Bounding Fawn is his squaw, no one will have the right to say that it is not true."
"I will do so," Blackbird answered.
"Good! my father will follow us."
"I will follow you."
Blackbird then placed himself at the right of Loyal Heart, the band of warriors who accompanied him joined the procession, and all proceeded toward the ark of the first man, at the foot of which the hachesto was standing, holding in his hand the totem of the tribe. The sorcerer was standing in front of the totem, having on either side of him two Sachems chosen from among the wisest of the nation.
"What do you want here?" the sorcerer asked loyal Heart, when the latter halted about two yards from him with the procession.
"We demand justice," the hunter replied.
"Speak! We will give you that justice, whatever the consequences may be," the sorcerer said. "Well reflect before speaking, lest you may presently regret your precipitation."
"We shall only have to repent of one thing, and that is not having appeared before you earlier."
"My ears are open."
"We wish that justice should be done to a warrior, whose reputation attempts have been made to tarnish."
"Who is the warrior?"
"Black-deer."
"Is his medicine good?"
"His medicine is good."
"Is he a brave?"
"He is a great brave."
"What has he done?"
"Last night he carried off Bounding Fawn, the daughter of Blackbird here present."
"Good! Has he paid a fine ransom?"
"Let Blackbird himself answer."
"Yes," the old Chief here said, "I will answer. Black-deer is a great warrior, he has paid a noble ransom."
"In that case," said the sorcerer, "my son is satisfied?"
"I am satisfied."
There was a momentary silence, during which the sorcerer consulted in a whisper with the Sachems who acted as assessors. At length he spoke again.
"Black-deer is a great warrior," he said in a loud voice. "I, the medicine man, standing beneath the totem of the tribe, declare, that he has employed the right all renowned warriors possess of seizing their property wherever they may find it. From this moment Bounding Fawn is the squaw of Black-deer, to prepare his food, clean his weapons, carry his burdens, and take care of his war-chargers, and whoever says the contrary speaks falsely! Black-deer has the right to convey Bounding Fawn to his calli, and no one can prevent it; he is empowered, if she deceive him, to cut off her nose and ears. Blackbird will give two female buffalo hides to be hung up in the great medicine lodge."
At this final clause, known beforehand, however, for everything is strictly regulated by the code of etiquette in the matter of marriage, Blackbird made a frightful grimace. It seemed to him hard to part with two of the hides he had received but a few moments previously. But Loyal Heart came to his assistance, and interposed in a way that brought the smile back to his lips.
"Black-deer," he said in a loud voice, "loves Bounding Fawn, and will only owe her to himself—he alone will pay the tribute to the Wacondah; not two, but four female buffalo hides will be given to the medicine lodge."
He made a sign, and a warrior advanced, bearing the hides across his horse's neck. Loyal Heart took them and offered them to the sorcerer.
"My father will receive these skins," he said; "he will make such use of them as will be most agreeable to the Master of Life."
At this unexpected generosity, the audience burst into shouts of frenzied joy. The shells, drums, and chichikouès recommenced their infernal noise, and the procession set out again for Blackbird's calli. The old chief knew too well what he owed to himself, and the son-in-law he had just accepted, not to behave with proper decorum in spite of his avarice. When the procession reached the calli, he therefore said, in a loud voice—
"My brothers and friends, deign to honour with your presence the marriage banquet, and I shall be happy to see you take part in it. My son Black-deer will come, I feel convinced, to give the feast that family appearance which it ought to have."
He had scarce uttered the words, when a great noise was heard. The crowd parted violently, and in the space left free a horseman appeared, galloping at full speed: he held a woman on his horse's neck with one hand, while with the other he led a filly. At the sight of the horseman, the shouts and applause were redoubled, for everybody recognised Black-deer. On reaching the calli he leapt to the ground without uttering a syllable; then he drew his scalping knife and buried it in the neck of the filly. The poor brute gave a plaintive whining, trembled violently, and sank to the ground. The chief then turned it on its back, ripped open its chest, and tearing out the still quivering heart, he touched Bounding Fawn's forehead with it, while shouting in a voice loud enough to be heard by all the spectators.
"This is my squaw; woe to the man who touches her."
"I am his," the young wife then said.
The official ceremony was over: Black-deer and Bounding Fawn were married according to the rites of Comanche law. All dismounted, and the marriage feast began. The white men, who were not very eager to eat their portion of this Indian meal, composed in great measure of dog, boiled milk, and horse's flesh, had drawn on one side and tried to escape unnoticed. Unfortunately Blackbird and Black-deer watched them, and cut off their retreat; hence they were compelled, whether they liked it or no, to sit down to the banquet.
Tranquil, Loyal Heart, and their comrades made up their minds to the worst, and ate, or pretended to eat, with as good an appetite as the rest of the guests. The repast was prolonged till late in the day; for, though the Comanches do not drink spirits, and have not to fear intoxication, still, like all Indians, they are extraordinarily voracious, and eat till they can swallow no more.
The whites had hard work in declining those provisions, of more or less suspicious appearance, which were constantly offered to do them honour. Still, thanks to their thorough knowledge of Indian habits, they managed to escape the greater part of the infliction and see out the truly Homeric banquet without much annoyance. At the moment when Loyal Heart and Tranquil rose to retire, Black-deer approached them.
"Where are my brothers going?" he asked.
"To my calli," Loyal Heart replied.
"Good! Black-deer will join them there soon; he has to speak with his brothers on serious matters."
"Let my brother remain with his friends, tomorrow will be time enough."
The Chief frowned.
"My brother Loyal Heart must be careful," he said; "I have to consult with him on matters of the utmost gravity."
The hunter, struck by the Chiefs anxious air, looked at him with alarm.
"What is the matter?" he asked him.
"My brother will know in an hour."
"Very good, Chief; I will await you in my calli."
"Black-deer will come there."
The Chief then withdrew, laying his finger on his lip, and the hunters went off deep in thought.
We are now compelled to go a little way back, and return to one of the principal actors of our story, whom we have too long neglected; we allude to White Scalper. The reader of the "Freebooters" will, doubtless, remember that the terrible combat on the deck of the brig, between Tranquil and the Scalper, was continued in the sea, into which the ferocious old man had been hurled by the negro who followed him.
Quoniam had been in too great a hurry in telling the Canadian of the death of his enemy; it is true, though, that the negro acted in good faith, and really believed he had killed him. The last dagger stab dealt by Quoniam was buried deep in the old man's chest; the wound was so serious that the Scalper immediately left off further resistance; his eyes closed, his nerves relaxed like broken springs; he loosed hold of his enemy, to whom he had hitherto clung, and remained an inert mass, tossed at the mercy of the waves.
The Negro, exhausted with fatigue and half suffocated, hastened back to the deck of the vessel, persuaded that his enemy was dead; but it was not so. The Scalper had merely lost his senses, and his inanimate body was picked up by a Mexican boat. But, when this boat reached the shore, the crew, on seeing the horrible wounds which covered the stranger's body, his pallor and corpse-like immobility, had, in their turn, fancied him dead, and taking no further trouble about him, threw him back into the sea. Fortunately for the Scalper, at the moment when the crew formed this determination the boat was close to land, so that his body, supported by the waves, was gently deposited on the sand, the lower part remaining submerged, while the head and chest were left dry by the retirement of the waves.
Either through the fresh night air or the oscillating movement the sea imparted to the lower part of his body, within an hour the old man gave a slight start; a sigh heaved his powerful chest, and a few instinctive attempts to change his position clearly showed that this vigorous organisation was struggling energetically against death, and compelling it to retire. At length the wounded man opened his eyes, but profound gloom still enveloped him like a winding sheet. On the other hand, the fatigue produced by the gigantic struggle he had sustained, and the enormous quantity of blood which had escaped through his wounds, caused him a general weakness, so great, both morally and physically, that it was impossible for the Scalper, not merely to find out where he was, but to remember the circumstances that had brought him there.
It was in vain that he tried to restore order in his ideas, or bring back his fugitive thoughts; the shock had been too rude; the commotion too strong; in spite of all his efforts he could not succeed in refastening the broken thread of his thoughts. He saw himself, alone, wounded, and abandoned on the seashore; he understood instinctively all the horror and desperation of his position; but no gleam of intelligence flashed across his brain to guide him in this fearful chaos. He was angry with himself at the impotence to which he found himself reduced and the impossibility of attempting anything to get only a few yards away from the sea, at the edge of which, he was lying, and which would infallibly swallow him up, if his weakness overcame his will and betrayed his courage.
Then took place on that desolate shore a horrible drama, filled with moving and startling incidents—the wild struggles of a half-dead man striving to reconquer the existence which was ebbing from him, and struggling with savage energy against the death whose fatal hand already pressed heavily upon him. The slightest movement the Scalper attempted occasioned him unheard of sufferings, not only through the numerous wounds, whose lips were filled with sand and gravel, but also because he was compelled to confess to himself that all his efforts would lead to no result, and that, unless a miracle happened, he was infallibly lost.
That miracle, which the wretch did not hope for, the very thought of which could not occur to him, Providence, whose ways are impenetrable, and who often only appears to save a guilty man to inflict on him a more terrible chastisement, was preparing to perform at the moment when the wounded man, his strength and energy exhausted, was falling back conquered on the beach, resolved to await coldly that death which he could not avoid.
The Texans had scattered along the beach several parties of Freebooters, who were intended to watch the movements of the Mexican cruisers. These parties were all within hail of each other, and able to assemble at a given point with extreme rapidity. Chance willed it that when the Scalper's body was again thrown into the sea it touched shore not far from a rather large rancho standing close to the beach, and in which the most influential Chiefs of the Texan army were this night assembled, in prevision of the great events that were preparing. Naturally the approaches to the rancho were carefully guarded, and numerous patrols marched around it in order to ensure the safety of the Chiefs.
One of these patrols had seen the Mexican boats land, and hurried up to drive them off, which they easily effected, as the Mexicans were not at all desirous to begin a fresh fight with enemies whose number and strength they were not acquainted with, and whom they supposed, with some appearance of reason, to be in communication with those rebels with whom they had been fighting an hour previously. When the boats got out to sea again, the Texans began carefully examining the beach, in order to be certain that all their enemies had retired and left nobody behind them. The first to discover the Scalper's body summoned his comrades, and soon the wounded man had twenty individuals round him. At the first moment they fancied him dead; the Scalper heard all that was said around him, but was unable to make a move or utter a word. He felt terribly alarmed for a moment; it was when a Freebooter, after bending over and carefully examining him, rose again with the careless remark:
"The poor devil is dead, we have nothing to do but dig a hole in the sand and put him in it, so that the coyotes and vultures may not devour his corpse. Some of you go and fetch the largest stones you can find while we dig a hole here with our machetes; it will soon be over."
At this sentence, pronounced in a perfectly calm and careless voice, as if it were the simplest and most natural thing in the world, the Scalper felt a cold perspiration beading at the root of his hair, and a shudder of terror run over his body. He made a tremendous effort to speak or shriek, but it was in vain. He was in that almost cataleptic state in which, although the intellect retains all its lucidity, the body is an inert and insensible mass which no longer obeys.
"Stay," said another adventurer interposing, and checking by a sign those who were preparing to pick up the stones; "let us not be in such a hurry. This poor wretch is a creature made after God's own image; although his is in a pitiable state, a breath of life may still be left in him. We shall still be in a position to bury him if we find that he is really dead; but first let us assure ourselves that any assistance is in vain."
"Nonsense," the first speaker continued; "Fray Antonio is always like that; were we to listen to him, all the dead would only be wounded, and he would make us lose precious time in giving them useless care. However, as there is nothing to hurry us at this moment, I ask no better than to try and bring this man round, although he appears to me as dead as a fellow can well be."
"No matter," Fray Antonio answered, "let us try, at any rate."
"Very good," said the other with a shrug of the shoulders.
"And first let us remove him from here. When, he is perfectly dry, and runs no further risk of being carried off by the waves, we will see what we have to do."
The wounded man was immediately picked up by four Freebooters, and gently carried some twenty yards off to an entirely dry spot, where it was impossible for the sea to reach him. The worthy monk then produced a large case bottle of rum, which he uncorked, and after explaining his duty to each, that is to say, after ordering that the temples, wrists, and pit of the stomach should be vigorously rubbed with rum, he bent over him, and opening his jaws, which were tight as a vice, with the blade of his dagger, he poured into his mouth an honest quartern of rum. The effect of this double treatment was not long delayed. In a few seconds the wounded man gave a alight start, opened his eyes feebly, and, gave vent to a sigh of relief.
"Ah, ah," said Fray Antonio with a laugh: "what do you think of that, No Ruperto? I fancy your dead man is coming to life again, eh?"
"On my word, it is true," the other answered with a grin; "well, that is a man who can flatter himself with having his soul screwed into his body; by Bacchus! If he recover, which I did not yet assert, he can say that he has made a preciously long journey."
In the meantime, the friction was continued with the same vigour; the circulation of the blood was rapidly re-established; the Scalper's eyes became less haggard, his features were relaxed, and an expression of comfort spread over his countenance.
"Do you feel better?" the monk asked him kindly.
"Yes," he answered in a weak, though perfectly distinct voice.
"All the better. With the help of Heaven we will get you out of the scrape."
By a singular accident, the monk had not yet recognised the man to whom he had himself owed his life a few months previously. The wounds were carefully washed with rum and water, and cleared from the sand and gravel adhering to them; they were then poulticed with pounded oregano leaves, an extremely effective remedy for wounds, and then carefully tied up.
"There," the monk continued with an air of satisfaction, "that is finished. I will now have you carried to a spot where you will be much better able than here to enjoy that repose which is indispensable for you after so rude a shock."
"Do what you please with me," the wounded man answered with an effort; "I owe you too much to offer the slightest objection."
"The more so," Ruperto answered with a laugh, "because it would be perfectly useless; the reverend Father has undertaken your cure, and, whether you like it or no, you must follow his prescriptions."
At a sign from Fray Antonio, four powerful men raised the patient in their arms, and carried him into the rancho. It was he who Colonel Melendez had seen go in, when led by chance to the same rancho, he had for some minutes listened to, and surveyed what was going on inside. The rancho belonged to a rich Texan haciendero, a devoted partisan of the revolution, and who was delighted to place at the disposal of the Chiefs a retreat which he had built in happier times for a summer villa. This house, while agreeably situated, spacious, and well kept up, was abundantly provided, not only with everything indispensable for existence, but also with those thousand trifles and luxuries which are conventionally called comfort, and which rich persons, through lengthened habit, cannot do without.
The Chiefs were at first rather annoyed at the free and easy way in which Fray Antonio, without giving them notice, had encumbered them with a wounded stranger. But when they saw in what a pitiable state the poor fellow was, they made no further objection, but allowed the monk to instal him where he thought best. Fray Antonio did not allow the permission to be repeated. Aided by the master of the rancho, he transported the wounded man to a spacious and airy room, whose windows looked out on the sea, and in which the Scalper was placed in an admirably healthy condition.
So soon as the patient was laid in a bed expressly made for him—for in these torrid climates the inhabitants are accustomed to sleep on mats, or at the most in hammocks—the monk handed him a narcotic drink, which he requested him to swallow. The effect was almost immediate; a few minutes after he had drunk it, White Scalper fell into a calm and restorative sleep. The entire night passed without any incident; the wounded man slept for eight hours at a stretch, and when he awoke, he was no longer the same; he felt fresh, cheerful, and reposed.
Several days passed thus, during which Fray Antonio paid him the closest and most affectionate attention. If, at the first moment, the monk was unable to recognise the White Scalper, it was not long ere he did so by daylight; after carefully examining this man, whose appearance had really something strange and remarkable about it, his recollection returned, and he recognised the hunter so greatly feared on the prairie by the Redskins, and even by the whites, and to whom himself owed his life under such singular circumstances; hence, he was pleased at the opportunity chance afforded him of repaying his debt to this man. But as, on the other hand, the wounded man, either through obstinacy or defective memory, did not appear at all to remember him, the monk kept his discovery to himself, and continued his attentions to the wounded man without permitting himself the slightest allusion which might cause the other to suspect that he was recognised.
Things went on thus till the day of the battle of Cerro Pardo. In the morning, as usual, Fray Antonio entered his patient's room, whose cure was rapidly advancing, thanks to the efficacy of the oregano leaves. His wounds were almost cicatrized, and he felt his strength returning.
"My friend," said the monk to him, "I have done all for you I morally could; you will do me the justice of saying that I nursed you like a brother."
"I have only thanks to offer you," the wounded man said, stretching out his hand.
"Much obliged," said Fray Antonio, as he took this hand; "today I have bad news for you."
"Bad news?" the other repeated in surprise.
"After all," the monk continued, "the news may be good. Still, to deal frankly with you, I do not believe it; I augur no good from what we are going to do."
"I must confess that I do not at all understand you, so I should feel extremely obliged if you would explain yourself more clearly."
"That is true. Indeed, you cannot suspect anything. In two words, this is the affair: the army has received orders to march forward this very morning."
"So that——?" the wounded man asked.
"I am, to my great regret," the monk said with a crafty smile, "compelled to leave you behind."
"Hum!" the White Scalper mattered in some alarm.
"Unless," Fray Antonio continued, "as I dare not hope, we beat the Mexicans, in which case you are certain to see me again."
The patient seemed to grow more and more restless about the position in which he ran a risk of being left.
"Did you come solely to tell me that?" he asked.
"No. I wished to make you a proposal."
"What is it?" the other eagerly asked.
"Listen. I picked you up in a most desperate state."
"That is true: I allow it."
"Although some people say," Fray Antonio continued, "that you received your wounds in fighting against us, and, indeed, some of our men declare themselves certain of the fact, I would not put faith in their words. I know not why, but since I have been nursing you, I have grown to take an interest in you; I should not like the cure I have carried on hitherto so successfully, to break down. This is what I propose: about one hundred miles from the spot where we now are, there is an encampment of white men and half-breeds, over whom I possessed considerable influence some time back. I believe that they have not yet quite forgotten me, and that anyone joining them as from me, would meet with a kindly reception. Will you go there? It is a risk to run."
"How could I perform this journey in my present state of weakness and prostration?"
"That need not trouble you. Four men, who are devoted to me, will conduct you to my old friends."
"Oh, if that be the case," the Scalper exclaimed eagerly, "I gladly accept. If I perished on the road, I would prefer that to remaining here alone."
"I trust that you will not perish, but reach your destination all right. So that is agreed. You will go?"
"With the greatest pleasure. When do we start?"
"At once, there is not a moment to lose."
"Good! Give the necessary orders, I am ready."
"I must warn you, however, that the men to whom I am sending you, are slightly of a scampish nature, and you must not assume any high moral tone with them."
"What does it concern me? if they were even pirates of the prairies, believe me, I should attach no importance to the fact."
"Bravo! I see that we understand each other, for I believe these worthy gentlemen dabble a little in all trades."
"Good, good!" the Scalper gaily answered; "Do not trouble yourself about that."
"In that case, get ready to start; I shall return in ten minutes at the latest."
With these words, the monk left the room. The old man, who had not many preparations to make, was soon in a position to take the road. As he had stated, within ten minutes the monk returned, followed by four men. Among them was Ruperto, who, it will be remembered, offered the advice to bury the wounded man in the sand. The Scalper was still very weak, and incapable of either walking or sitting a horse. The monk had remedied this inconvenience, as far as possible, by having a clumsy litter prepared for the wounded man, carried by two mules, and in which he could recline. This mode of transport was very slow, and extremely inconvenient, especially for the guides, in a country such as they had to cross; but it was the only one practicable at the moment, and so they must put up with it. The wounded man was carried to the litter, and laid on it as comfortably as was possible.
"And now," said the monk, "may Heaven direct you; do not feel at all alarmed, Ruperto has many instructions, and I know him well enough to be convinced that he will not depart from them, whatever may happen. So you can trust to him. Good bye!"
And, after giving the wounded man his hand, Fray Antonio made a movement to retire.
"One moment," said the old man, as he held the hand he had taken; "I wish to say but one word to you."
"Speak, but be brief. I have the weightiest reasons for desiring your immediate departure; in a few minutes some wounded men will arrive here, who have hitherto been kept in the fort, and whom you would probably not be at all pleased to meet."
"I fancy I can understand to whom you allude; but that is not the question. I wish, before parting with you, and not knowing whether I shall ever see you again, to express to you the gratitude I feel for your conduct toward me, a gratitude which is the greater because I am convinced you have recognised me."
"And suppose I have?"
"You needed only to say one word to surrender me to my most inveterate enemies; and yet you did not utter that word."
"Certainly not; for even supposing, as you seem to believe, that I have recognised you, I was only discharging a debt I had incurred with you."
The old man's face writhed; his eye became moist; he warmly squeezed the monk's hand, which he had till now held in his own, and it was with much emotion and tenderness that he added—
"Thanks. This kindness will not be lost; the events of the last few days have greatly modified my way of looking at certain things; you shall never regret having saved my life."
"I hope so; but be gone, and may Heaven guard you!"
"We shall meet again."
"Who knows?" the monk muttered, as he gave the guides a signal.
The latter flogged their mules, and the litter began moving. About an hour after the start, it met a covered cart, in which lay Tranquil, but they passed without seeing each other. The monk had only spoken the truth about Ruperto. The worthy adventurer was most attentive to the sick man, carefully watching over him, and trying to while away the tedium of the journey. Unluckily, the party had to cross an essentially primitive country, in which there were no roads, and where the guides were generally obliged to cut a path with their axes. The litter advanced but slowly, and with unheard of difficulty, along the abominable tracts, and, despite the most minute precautions, the wounded man suffered horribly from the jolting and shakes the mules gave the litter almost every moment.
Ruperto, to fatigue the patient as little as possible, only travelled by night, or very early in the morning, ere the sun had acquired its full strength. They marched thus for a fortnight, during which the country grew wilder, and the ground gradually ascended; the scenery became more abrupt and stern, the virgin forests closed in, and they could see that they were approaching the mountains.
One evening, when the little party had established their night bivouac on the banks of a rapid stream that flowed into the Arkansas, the Scalper, who, in spite of the privations and fatigue to which he had been constantly exposed since his departure from the rancho, felt his strength gradually returning, asked his guide how many days their journey would still last—which as yet he had been unwilling to do, through a feeling of delicacy. At this question, Ruperto smiled cunningly.
"Our journey has been finished for the last four days," he said.
"What do you mean?" the Scalper asked with a start of surprise.
"The people we are going to see," the adventurer went on, "do not like to receive visits without being previously advised; surprises do not agree with them. In order to avoid any misunderstanding, which is always to be regretted between old friends, I employed the only means in my power."
"And what is it?"
"Oh, it is very simple. Just look at our camp—do people guard themselves in this way on the desert? Instead of being at the top of a hill, we are at the watering place of the wild beasts; the smoke from our fire, instead of being concealed, is, on the contrary, visible for a great distance. Do all these acts of imprudence committed purposely teach you nothing?"
"Ah, ah," the old man said, "then you wish your friends to surprise us?"
"Quite right. In that way the recognition will be effected without striking a blow. And stay! If I am not mistaken, we are about to receive visitors."
At this moment the branches of a neighbouring thicket were roughly parted and several men rushed into the camp, with the machete in one hand, the rifle in the other.
The White Scalper gave an imperceptible start at the unexpected apparition of the strangers; but he had sufficient power over himself apparently to preserve that coolness and stoicism which the Redskins and wood rangers make a point of honour. He did not alter the careless attitude he was in, and though he appeared to look at the newcomers absently, he, however, examined them attentively.
They were at least twenty in number, for they had risen from all sides at once, and in a twinkling surrounded the travellers. These men, mostly clad in the trapper's hunting shirt and fox skin cap, had a vigorous appearance, and a ferocious look, not at all adapted to inspire confidence; moreover, they were armed to the teeth, not only having the rifle and machete, but also the scalping knife and tomahawk employed by the Indians.
The man who appeared to be their Chief was at the most thirty-five years of age, tall, well-built and proportioned; his wide forehead, black eyes, Grecian nose, and large mouth, made up a face pleasing at the first glance, though on examining it more closely, you soon perceived that his glance was false, and that a sardonic smile constantly played round his thin and pale lips. His face was framed in by thick black curls, which fell in disorder on his shoulders and mixed with a large beard, which the fatigues of a wandering and adventurous life were beginning to silver at places.
The four Texan adventurers had not made a move; the Chief of the strangers looked at them for a moment with his hands crossed on his rifle barrel, the butt of which rested on the ground. At length, by a movement that was familiar to him, he threw back his curls, and addressed Ruperto—
"Halloh, gossip," he said, "you here? What has brought you into our parts?"
"A wish to see you, gossip," the other answered, as he carelessly struck a light for the cigarette he had just finished rolling.
"Nonsense! Only that?" the stranger continued.
"What other motive could I have, Master Sandoval?"[1]
"Who knows?" the other said with a shake of his head; "Life has such strange changes."
"This time you are mistaken. Nothing disagreeable forces me to pay you a visit."
"That is more and more extraordinary. Then, you have come on your own accord, nothing compelling you to do so?"
"I do not say that, for my visit necessarily has a motive. Still, it is not at all of the nature you suppose."
"Canarios! I am glad to see that I am not so far from the truth as it appeared at first."
"All the better!"
"But why did not you come straight to our encampment, if you were seeking us, as you say?"
Ruperto burst into a laugh.
"That would have been a fine idea, to be welcomed with a shower of slugs! No, I think I acted more wisely as I have."
"We have been on your trail for three days."
"Why did you not show yourselves sooner?"
"I was not quite certain it was you."
"Well, that is possible. Will you not sit down?"
"What for? Now that we have met, I hope you will come to our camp?"
"I did not like to propose it; you see we are not alone, but have a stranger with us."
"What matter, if you answer for him?"
"With my life."
"Well, then, the friends of our friends are ours, and have a claim to our attention."
"I thank you, Caballero," the Scalper replied with a bow; "I trust you will have no cause to repent having offered me hospitality."
"The company in which I find you is an excellent guarantee to me, Señor," the adventurer continued with a courteous smile.
"Do you intend to lead us to your camp tonight?" Ruperto asked.
"Why not? We are not more than fifteen miles from it at the most."
"That is true; but this caballero is wounded, and so long a distance after a fatiguing day—"
"Oh, I feel very well, I assure you. My strength has almost entirely returned; I even believe that, were it absolutely necessary, I could sit a horse. Hence do not put yourself out of the way for me, I beg," the old man said.
"As it is so, we will start whenever you like."
"All right," said Sandoval; "however, I will undertake to lead you by a road which will shorten your distance one half."
All being thus arranged, the horses were saddled afresh, and they started. The strangers were on foot; the Scalper would not enter the litter, and even insisted on it being left behind, declaring that he did not want it, and cutting a rather long branch, he converted it into a staff. He then took his place by Sandoval's side, who, delighted by his manner, gave him a glance of satisfaction.
Sandoval, as we have said, was the Chief of the men who had so suddenly fallen on the bivouac of the adventurers. These men were pirates of the prairies. In a previous work, we have described what they are; but as it is probable that many of our readers do not know the book to which we allude, we will explain, in as few words as possible, what sort of persons these gentry are. In the United States, and most of the countries of the new world, men are encountered who, not being restrained by any species of moral obligation or family consideration, yield themselves without restraint to all the violence of their evil passions. These men, led in the first instance into debauchery by indolence, and almost certain of impunity in countries where the police are powerless to protect honest people and enforce the laws, at length grow to commit the most atrocious crimes in open daylight, though this is common enough in those countries where the strongest make the laws.
This goes on until the reprobation becomes general, and public indignation at last growing stronger than the terror inspired by these villains, they are compelled to fly from town to town in order to escape the exemplary punishment of Lynch-law. Everywhere pursued like wild beasts, abandoned by all, even by their accomplices, they draw nearer and nearer to the Indian border, which they eventually cross, and are henceforth condemned to live and die in the desert. But there, too, everything is hostile to them—white trappers, wood rangers, Indian warriors, and wild beasts—they are compelled to endure a daily and hourly struggle to defend their life, which is incessantly assailed. But they have before them space, the hiding places on the mountains and in the virgin forests, and hence can sustain the combat to a certain point. Still, if they remained isolated they would infallibly succumb to cold, hunger, and wretchedness, even supposing they were not surprised, scalped, and massacred by their implacable enemies.
These outlaws from society, whom every man thinks he has a right to hunt down, frankly accept their position. They feel proud of the hatred and repulsion they inspire, and collect in numerous bands to requite the anathema cast upon them. Taking as their rule the pitiless law of the prairies, eye for eye and tooth for tooth, they become formidable through their numbers, and repay their enemies the injuries they receive from them. Woe to the trappers or Indians who venture to traverse the prairies alone, for the pirates massacre them pitilessly. The emigrant trains are also attacked and pillaged by them with refined and atrocious barbarity. Some of these men who have retained a little shame, put off the dress of white men to assume that of Redskins, so as to make those they pillage suppose they have been attacked by Indians; hence their most inveterate enemies are the Indians, for whom they try to pass. Still, it frequently happens that the pirates, ally themselves with Redskins belonging to one nation to make war on another.
All is good for them when their object is plunder; but what they prefer is raising scalps, for which the Government of the United States, that patriarchal government which protects the natives, according to some heartless optimists, are not ashamed to pay fifty dollars a-piece. Hence, the pirates are as skilful as the Indians themselves in raising hair; but with them all scalps are good; and when they cannot come across Indians, they have no scruple about scalping white men; the more so, because the United States does not look into matters very closely, and pays without bargaining or entering into details, provided that the hair be long and black.
Captain Sandoval's band of pirates was one of the most numerous and best organised in Upper Arkansas; his comrades, all thorough food for the gallows, formed the most magnificent collection of bandits that could be imagined. For a long period, Fray Antonio, if not forming part of the band, had taken part in its operations, and derived certain though illegal profit by supplying the captain with information about the passage of caravans, their strength, and the road they intended to follow. Although the worthy monk had given up this hazardous traffic, his conversion had not been of so old a date for the pirates to have completely forgotten the services he had rendered them; hence, when he was compelled to abandon White Scalper he thought at once of his old friends. This idea occurred to him the more naturally, because White Scalper, owing to the mode of life he had hitherto led in the desert, had in his character some points of resemblance with the pirates, who, like him, were pitiless, and recognised no other law than their caprice.
In the band of Freebooters the monk had organised since his reformation were some men more beaten than the others by the tempest of an adventurous life. These men Fray Antonio had seen at work, and set their full value upon them; but he kept them near him, through a species of intuition, in order to have them under his hand if some day fate desired that he should be compelled to have recourse to an heroic remedy to get out of a scrape, which was easy to foresee when a man entered on the life of a partisan. Among these chosen comrades was naturally Ruperto; hence it was to him he entrusted the choice of three sure men to escort the wounded man to the camp of Captain Sandoval, in Upper Arkansas. We have seen that the monk was not mistaken, and in what way Ruperto performed the commission confided to him.
It has frequently been said that honest men always recognise each other at the first glance; but the statement is far truer when applied to rogues. The White Scalper and the Pirate Chief had not walked side by side for ten minutes ere the best possible understanding was arrived at between them. The Captain admired as an amateur, and especially as a connoisseur, the athletic stature of his new companion. His rigid features, which seemed carved in granite, for they were so firm and marked, his black and sparkling eyes, and even his blunt and sharp mode of speech, attracted and aroused his sympathy. Several times he proposed to have him carried on the shoulders of two of his most powerful comrades across awkward spots; but the old man, although his ill-closed wounds caused him extreme suffering, and fatigue overpowered him, constantly declined these kind offers, merely replying that physical pain was nothing, and that the man who could not conquer it by the strength of his will, ought to be despised as an old woman.
There could be no reply to such a peremptory mode of reasoning, so Sandoval merely contented himself with nodding an assent, and they continued their march in silence. Night had fallen for some time, but it was a bright and starry night, which allowed them to march in safety, and have no fear of losing their way. After three hours of a very difficult journey, the travellers at length reached the crest of a high hill.
"We have arrived," Sandoval then said, as he stopped under the pretext of resting a moment, but in reality to give his companion, whom he saw to be winded, though he made no complaint, an opportunity to draw breath.
"What, arrived?" the Scalper said in surprise, looking round him, but not perceiving the slightest sign of an encampment.
In fact, the adventurers found themselves on a species of platform about fifteen hundred yards long, entirely denuded of trees, save in the centre, where grew an immense aloe, more than sixty feet in circumference, which looked like the king of the desert, over which it soared. Sandoval allowed his comrade to look around him for a moment, and then said, as he stretched out his arm to the giant tree—-
"We shall be obliged to enter by the chimney. But once is not always, and you will not feel offended at it when I tell you that I only do this to shorten our journey."
"You know that I did not at all understand you," the Scalper answered.
"I suspected it," Sandoval said with a smile. "But come along, and you will soon decipher the enigma."
The old man bowed without replying, and both walked toward the tree, followed by their comrades, who were smiling at the stranger's amazement. On reaching the foot of the tree, Sandoval raised his head—
"Ohé!" he shouted, "Are you there, Orson?"
"Where should I be if I was not?" a rough voice answered, issuing from the top of the tree. "I was obliged to wait for you here, as you have taken it, into your head to wander about the whole night through."
The pirates burst into a laugh.
"Always amiable!" Sandoval continued; "it is astonishing how funny that animal of an Orson always is! Come, let down the ladder, you ugly brute!"
"Ugly brute, ugly brute!" the voice growled, although its owner still remained invisible; "That is the way in which he thanks me."
In the meanwhile, a long wooden ladder was let down through the branches. Sandoval caught hold of it, secured it, and then turned to the wounded man—
"I will go first to show you the way."
"Do so," the Scalper said resolutely; "but I swear that I will be the second."
"Halloh!" the Captain said, turning round, "Why you are a Yankee."
"What does it matter to you?" the other said roughly.
"Not at all. Still, I am not sorry to know the fact."
"Well, you know it. What next?"
"Next?" Sandoval answered with a laugh; "You will be among countrymen, that is all."
"It makes little difference to me."
"Canarios, and how do you suppose it concerns me?" the Captain said, still laughing, and ascended.
The wounded man followed him step for step. The ladder was resting against a platform about two yards in width, completely concealed in a mass of inextricable foliage. On this platform stood the giant to whom his Chief had given the name of Orson, a name which was exactly suitable, so rough and savage did he appear.
"Any news?" the Captain asked, as he stepped on the platform.
"None," the other answered laconically.
"Have all the detachments returned?"
"All except you."
"Are the Gazelle and the American girl in the grotto?"
"They are."
"That is well. When all the people have come up, you will remove the ladder and join us."
"All right, Caray, I suppose I know what I have to do."
Sandoval contented himself with shrugging his shoulders.
"Come," he said to the Scalper, who was a silent witness of this scene.
They crossed the platform. The centre of the tree was entirely hollow, but it had not been rendered so by human agency; old age alone had converted the heart of the tree into dust, while the bark remained green and vigorous. The pirates, who had for many years inhabited a very large cave that ran under the hill, had one day seen the earth give way at a certain spot, in consequence of a storm; this was the way in which the chimney, as they called it, had been discovered.
The pirates, like all plundering animals, are very fond of having several issues to their lairs; this new one, supplied to them by accident, caused them the greater pleasure, because by the same occasion they obtained an observatory, whence they could survey an immense extent of country, which enabled them to see any enemy who might attempt to take them by surprise. A platform was formed at a certain height to keep the bark intact; and by means of two ladders, fitted one inside and one out, a communication was established.
Sandoval, in his heart, enjoyed his guest's surprise. In fact, the pirate's ingenious arrangement seemed marvellous to White Scalper, who, forgetting his phlegm and stoicism, allowed his surprise to be seen.
"Now," he said to him, pointing to a second ladder, which descended a considerable depth into the ground, "we will go down."
"At your service, at your service," the stranger answered. "It is really admirable. Go on, I follow you."
They then began descending cautiously owing to the darkness, for the pirate placed as sentry on theMiradorhad, either through forgetfulness or malice, neglected to bring torches, not supposing, as he said, that his comrades would return so late. White Scalper alone had followed the pirates by the strange road we have indicated. This road, very agreeable for foot passengers, was, of course, completely impracticable for horsemen; hence Ruperto and his three comrades quitted Sandoval at the foot of the hill, and making a rather long detour, sought the real entrance of the cave, with which all four had been long acquainted.
As the two men gradually descended, the light increased, and they seemed to be entering a furnace. On setting foot on the ground, the Scalper found himself in an immense cavern, lighted by a profusion of torches held by pirates, who, grouped at the foot of the ladder, seemed to find an honour in waiting the arrival of their Chief, and offering him a grand reception. The grotto was of an enormous size; the spot where White Scalper found himself was a vast hall, whence radiated several galleries of immense length, and running in diametrically opposite directions. The scene that offered itself to the Scalper in this hall, where he arrived so unexpectedly, would have been worthy of Callot's pencil. Here could be seen strange faces, extraordinary costumes, impossible attitudes, all of which gave a peculiar character to this multitude of bandits, who were hailing their Chief with shouts of joy, and howls like those of wild beasts.
Captain Sandoval knew too well the sort of people he had to deal with, to be affected in any way by the reception his bandits had improvised for him; instead of appearing touched by their enthusiasm, he frowned, drew up his head, and looked menacingly at the attentive crowd.
"What is this, Caballeros?" he said; "How comes it that you are all here waiting for me?Viva Dios!Some mistake must have occurred in the execution of my orders to make you collect so eagerly round me. Well, leave me, we will clear that up on another occasion, for the present I wish to be alone: begone!"
The bandits, without replying, bowed to the Chief, and immediately withdrew, dispersing so promptly in the side galleries, that in less than five minutes the hall was entirely deserted. At the same moment Ruperto appeared; he had left his companions with old comrades who had undertaken to do them the honours of the grotto, and now came to join the man who had been entrusted to his care. Sandoval offered his hand cordially to the adventurer, but it was the cordiality of a man who feels himself at home, which the Texan noticed.
"Halloh!" he said, "We are no longer on the prairie, it strikes me."
"No," the Captain answered, seriously, and he laid some stress on the words, "you are in my house, but," he added, with a pleasant smile, "that must not trouble you; you are my guests, and will be treated as you deserve to be."
"Good, good," Ruperto said, who would not let himself be imposed on by this cavalier manner, "I know where the shoe pinches, gossip. Well, I will find a remedy," and he turned to Orson, who at this moment came down the ladder with his rough and savage face; "beg White Gazelle to come hither; tell her particularly that Captain Sandoval wishes to see her."
The Chief of the pirates smiled and offered his hand to Ruperto.
"Forgive me, Ruperto," he said to him, "but you know how I love that girl. When I am a single day without seeing her, I fancy that I want something, and feel unhappy."
"Canarios! I am well aware of it," Ruperto answered, with a smile; "hence, you see, that to restore you to your right temper I did not hesitate to give Orson orders to fetch the only person you have ever loved."
The Captain sighed, but made no answer.
"Come," the adventurer continued, gaily, "she will come, so recover your spirits. Caramba! It would be a fine thing for you to feel any longer vexed about a child who probably forgot to kiss you on your return because she was at play. Remember, we are your guests, that we have the claims which hospitality gives us, and that you must not, under any pretext, look black at us."
"Alas, my friends," he answered, with a stifled sigh, "you know not, you cannot know, how sweet it is for a wretch like me, an outlaw, to be able to say to himself that there exists in the world a creature who loves him for himself, and without afterthought."
"Silence," Ruperto said quickly, as he laid his hand on his arm, "here she comes."