CHAPTER VI
THE JOURNEY
In a very short time after the occurrences related in the preceding chapter, the travellers saw a tolerably numerous troop of riders emerge from the forest.
Stoneheart rode at their head, and Don Pedro discovered, with feelings of lively satisfaction, that the horses and mules so audaciously stolen from him were in the rear of the troop.
"Ha!" said he, "The robbers have been compelled to disgorge their prey."
"It would appear so," answered the old man, with a scarcely perceptible smile.
Meanwhile, the hunter had halted the troop at a little distance from the teocali. He himself had dismounted, and was now coming towards the travellers. He soon reached them.
"I perceive that you have succeeded in your enterprise," the Tigercat said to him in a tone of raillery.
"I have," answered the hunter laconically, and turning from him.
"I am rejoiced at this circumstance," resumed the old man, addressing Don Pedro; "thanks to it, you will reach your home on your own horses, and without the loss of anything belonging to you."
"How shall I ever repay all the obligations I owe you, señor?" said the hacendero, with great emotion.
"By not thanking me for them: my conduct towards you has been very simple, and solely dictated by the interest I took in your unlucky position."
Although nothing could be more evident than the Tigercat's intention to make a courteous answer, his words were uttered with such a hissing accent, his voice was so ironical, and his tone so sarcastic, that the effect produced was quite contrary to what he intended. Without exactly comprehending the reason, Don Pedro felt he had met with an insult instead of a compliment.
"Let us end this," said Stoneheart abruptly. "The sun is already high; and it is time to set out, if you would cross the forest before nightfall."
"In all sincerity," said the Tigercat, "notwithstanding the chagrin I feel at seeing you depart, it is my duty to warn you that, if nothing detains you here, you will do well to commence your journey."
Don Pedro and his companions rose, and, accompanied by the two hunters, descended into the plain.
During the words which had been exchanged on the teocali, the mounted Indians had disappeared, leaving the animals of the Mexicans at the place where they had first halted.
The hacendero, before he mounted, turned his head several times in the direction in which the Indian's had vanished.
"What are you looking for?" asked the old man, uneasy at this repeated movement.
"You will excuse me," answered Don Pedro; "but I am afraid to enter without a guide into that pathless forest; and I do not see the one you were good enough to promise me."
"Nevertheless he stands before you, señor," said the Tigercat, pointing to the hunter.
"Yes," said the latter, looking defiantly at the old man, "it is I who am to be your guide; and I give you my sacred word, that in despite of savages, be they beasts or men, I will conduct you in safety to your hacienda."
The Tigercat made no answer to these words, which were evidently spoken for his behoof; he contented himself by shrugging his shoulders, while an indefinable expression settled on his mocking lips.
"Oh!" said the hacendero, "We have indeed nothing to fear if you are to be our guide, señor; the generosity of your late conduct is a sure guarantee for the future."
"Let us go," said the hunter briefly, "we have already lost too much time."
The travellers mounted without replying.
"Adieu! And good luck," said the Tigercat, when he saw them ready to start.
"One word, if you please, caballero," exclaimed the hacendero, bowing slightly to his host.
"Speak, señor," said the latter; "is there any further service I can render you?"
"No," replied the Mexican; "I owe you too many favours already; only, before I leave you, perhaps forever, I wish to tell you, without desiring to pry too closely into the motives which prompted your actions towards me, your conduct has apparently been so cordial and noble, that I must try to express to you the extent of my gratitude. Whatever may happen, señor, and until evident proof to the contrary, I consider myself indebted to you; and if occasion offers, I shall know how to cancel the debt I owe you."
And before the Tigercat, stupefied by this adieu, which proved that the hacendero was not quite his dupe, had recovered, the Mexican had given both spurs to his horse, and galloped off to rejoin his companions who had already advanced some little way.
The old man remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the travellers, until they had finally disappeared within the forest; then he regained the teocali, muttering in a low voice:
"Has he foreseen my purpose? No, it is impossible; but his suspicion is aroused, and I must have been less prudent than my wont."
In the meantime the travellers had entered upon the forest, under the guidance of Stoneheart, who rode alone in advance, with drooping head, and apparently plunged in sombre thought.
For two hours they progressed without exchanging a word. The hunter rode on as if he were alone, without troubling himself in the least about those who followed him; without even turning his head in their direction, to see whether they were behind him.
This behaviour only moderately astonished the hacendero, who, recollecting the manner in which he had made acquaintance with the hunter the day before, was expecting a certain oddness of character on his part. Nevertheless, he was hurt by the coldness and indifference displayed by the man whose good will he had sought to conciliate. So he made no attempt to engage him to break the silence and become more sociable.
A little before midday the travellers reached a tolerably large clearing, in the centre of which there gushed forth, from the fissures of a rock, which rose to a grand height in the form of a pyramid, a spring of water, as clear and limpid as crystal, which ran off in a narrow stream through thick tufts of gladiolus.
This clearing, shaded by a leafy vault of gigantic trees surrounding it, offered a delicious spot for repose to the weary travellers.
"We will wait here until the greatest heat of the day is over," said the guide, breaking silence for the first time since they had left the teocali.
"Content," said the hacendero, smiling; "indeed, you could not have chosen a fitter spot."
"One of the baggage mules carries food and other refreshment, of which you may avail yourself, if you choose; they have been provided for your use."
"And you – will you not join us?" asked the hacendero.
"I am neither hungry nor thirsty; do not trouble yourself about me; other duties claim my attention."
Thinking it useless to insist, Don Pedro dismounted, lifted his daughter from her saddle, and placed her on the turf beside the brook. The horses were tethered, and all settled themselves to snatch a few moments of repose.
Stoneheart, after silently helping the peones to unload the mule which carried the provisions, and spreading them out before Don Pedro and his daughter, absented himself with hasty strides, and was soon lost in the forest.
"What a strange fellow!" said the capataz, while doing honour to the food before him.
"His conduct is incomprehensible," answered Don Pedro.
"But I believe him honest, in spite of his rough manner," said Doña Hermosa; "up to the present his proceedings towards us have been irreproachable."
"Very true," said her father; "yet he seems to display a coldness which, I confess, makes me uneasy."
"It is impossible to think ill of a man who, in spite of all, has shown us nothing but kindness hitherto," replied Doña Hermosa, with a certain degree of warmth of manner; "we owe him our lives, especially myself, whom he saved from a certain and horrible death."
"Very true, my daughter; yet all this is most difficult to account for."
"Not the least in the world, father: this man, accustomed to live amongst Indians, has unconsciously adopted their sententiousness, and the reserve of their manners. What you consider coldness, is probably no more than bashfulness in the presence of a class of persons he is not accustomed to; and his want of knowledge of our habits prevents his speaking."
"It is not impossible that you may be right, my child; however, I intend to ease my mind of this anxiety; and I will not leave him till I have made an effort to loosen his tongue."
"Why should you distress him, father? We cannot exact anything from him, beyond leading us in safety to the hacienda. Let him do as he likes, if he only fulfils the promise he made us."
"All very well, señorita," objected the capataz; "but you must confess that we should be seriously at a loss if he takes it into his head not to come back."
"That supposition is inadmissible, Don Luciano: his horse is feeding with ours; besides, for what purpose should he commit such an unwarrantable treason."
"This man, in spite of the whiteness of his skin, is more an Indian than an individual of our colour; and, right or wrong, señorita, I distrust the redskins amazingly."
"Moreover," added Don Pedro, "I cannot see what urgent business could induce him to leave us all alone, and to plunge into the forest."
"Who can tell, father?" said the girl shrewdly; "It may be he is gone to do us some further service."
"At all events, señorita," resumed the capataz, "I see one thing very clearly, which is, that if this man does not come back again, our position is still more frightful than it was yesterday, for then we had our rifles. Today we are completely without weapons, and incapable of defending ourselves if attacked by man or beast."
"It is too true," cried the hacendero, turning pale; "our arms were taken from us while we slept. I never thought of them before. What can be the meaning of all this? Have we again fallen into a snare, and is this man really a traitor?"
"No, my father," replied the girl, with spirit; "he is innocent; I am sure of it. You will soon acknowledge the injustice of your suspicions."
"God grant it!" said Don Pedro, with a sigh.
At this moment a sharp and prolonged whistle was heard at a distance. At the sound the hunter's horse, which had been browsing peaceably, pricked up his ears, and darting in the direction whence the whistle was heard, gave a neigh of pleasure, and galloped off into the forest.
"What did I tell you, señorita?" cried the capataz. "Do you believe me now?"
"No," she replied energetically; "I do not believe this man to be a traitor. Strong as appearances may be against him, you will soon see the injustice of your suspicions."
"For this once, my daughter, I concur with Don Luciano; it is evident that, for reasons of his own the miscreant has abandoned us."
His daughter shook her head, but said nothing.
The hacendero continued:
"What shall we do? We must decide upon something or other; we cannot stop here and wait for night."
"It is my opinion," said the capataz, "that we have no other alternative than to leave this place directly. Who knows whether the wretch is not preparing to swoop down upon us this very moment, at the head of a band of robbers like himself?"
"Yes; but where are we to go? None of us knows the road," interposed the hacendero.
"Horses have an infallible instinct which never fails to direct them to inhabited places. Let us throw the reins on their necks, and leave them to choose their road."
"It is a chance we might try; it might succeed. Let us set to work without delay."
"Father! In the name of Heaven," entreated Doña Hermosa, "Think of what you are about to do. Do not act with a precipitation you would soon regret. Wait a little while yet; it is scarcely midday, and an hour more or less is of little importance."
"I will not wait a minute, not a second!" violently exclaimed the hacendero, rising to his feet. "Here, muchachos! Saddle the horses quickly; we will be off."
The peones hastened to obey.
"Be careful, father," said the girl; "I hear the sound of a horse's hoofs in the thicket; our guide is returning."
The convictions of the hacendero were shaken by his daughter's earnest appeal. He dropped on the turf again, making a sign to his companion to do the like.
Doña Hermosa had not deceived herself. The noise she had heard was certainly the step – not perhaps of a horse, for it was slow and heavy, but at all events of an animal of great size. It was obviously approaching.
"Perhaps it is a grizzly bear," muttered the hacendero.
"Or a jaguar in search of prey," added the capataz in a low voice.
The anxiety of the travellers was intense. Abandoned in the forest, without arms to defend themselves, it was clear that they were lost if a wild beast should really attack them; for flight was impossible, as they knew not where to fly to.
"You are mistaken," said Doña Hermosa, who alone had preserved her presence of mind; "no danger threatens us. Look! The horses continue feeding without showing the least alarm."
"You are right," said Don Pedro; "they would have perceived the scent of a wild beast – have been mad with fear, and taken to flight before this."
Suddenly the bushes parted, and the hunter made his appearance, leading his horse by the bridle.
"I was sure of it," cried Doña Hermosa in triumph; while her father and the capataz cast down their eyes, blushing for shame.
The features of the hunter were as cold and impassive as they had been when he quitted the clearing, only their expression was more sombre. His horse carried on his back a heavy bundle, oblong in shape, carefully corded, and wrapped up in buffalo hide.
"You must excuse me for having left you," he said in a voice that sounded rather sadly; "I only perceived, when it was too late, that you had been deprived of your weapons, – at least I suppose that to be the case; for you cannot have forgotten to take them when you left the teocali; and as it is more than probable you will have to defend yourselves before you leave the wilderness, I have been to find arms for you."
"Is that the reason why you left us?"
"Why I left you!" he answered quietly. "I brought you to this place because a few paces off I have one of those caches (hiding places) which we hunters fashion, here and there in the desert, to serve us in time of need. But," he added in a bitter tone, "it has been discovered and pillaged. On that account I whistled for my horse, whose help had become indispensable; for I was obliged to go to another cache at some distance. If it had not been for this mishap, I should have been back at least half an hour ago."
This explanation was given by the hunter without emphasis, and in the tone of a man conscious he was merely relating a simple fact.
He unloaded his horse, and opened the bale. It contained five American rifles, knives, straight swords called machetes, powder, balls, and hatchets.
"Arm yourselves. The rifles are good; they will not fail you when the time to use them arrives."
The Mexicans did not wait to be asked twice; they were soon armed to the teeth.
"Now, at least," said the hunter, "you can defend yourselves like men, instead of letting yourselves be butchered like deer."
"Ah," sighed Doña Hermosa, "I was convinced he would act like this."
"Thanks, señorita," was his response; "thanks for your trust in me."
While he spoke these words, his features became animated, and his eyes flashed; but he soon resumed the impassiveness of marble.
"I promised to conduct you in safety to your home," he said, "and I will do so."
"Is there any danger to be feared?" inquired Don Pedro.
"There is always danger," he replied bitterly, "in the desert more than elsewhere."
"Are we threatened with treachery?"
"Ask me no questions; I will not reply to them. Listen to my words, and profit by them. If you wish to preserve your scalps, you must place implicit confidence in me, whatever I may do, and obey me, without fear or hesitation, in everything I may order. All I shall do will be done with but one aim – your safety. Do you consent to these conditions?"
"We do," exclaimed Doña Hermosa fervently; "we will not doubt your loyalty, and will act entirely according to your council."
"I swear it," said the hacendero.
"It is well; now I will be answerable for everything. Put aside all anxiety. Do not speak to me; I have need to collect my thoughts."
Bowing carelessly, he betook himself to a little distance, and seated himself at the foot of a tree.
In the meantime the curiosity of the Mexicans was strongly excited. They comprehended that serious danger was impending, and that the hunter was planning means to avert it; but now that they had excellent weapons, horns full of powder, and balls, they looked at their position in a new light, and, although their anxiety was still great, they did not despair of being able to escape from the snares laid for their feet.
The hunter, after remaining motionless as a statue for nearly half an hour, raised his head, calculated the time by the shadows of the trees, and said, rising with some impetuosity,
"To horse; it is time to go."
The horses were soon saddled, and the travellers in their seats.
"You will march in Indian file," continued the hunter; "follow exactly in my steps."
Instead of advancing in the direction he had taken hitherto, he rode his horse into the rivulet, the course of which he followed until he reached a spot where two other brooks contributed their waters. Stoneheart chose the left hand brook, and followed its windings. The Mexicans closely imitated this manoeuvre, riding in Indian file – the head of each horse at the crupper of the one in front of him.
The heat was stifling in the covert, where the circulation of the air, impeded by the foliage, was scarcely perceptible. The deepest calm prevailed through the forest; the birds, nestled under the leaves, had ceased their songs; and nothing was heard but the monotonous humming of innumerable myriads of mosquitoes hovering about the marshes.
In the meantime the brook they were following increased by degrees till it assumed the character of a river. Here and there, already, black chicots (trees uprooted and carried down by the rivers, often forming serious obstacles to navigation) began to make their appearance, on which rosy flamingoes and herons stood on one leg; the banks right and left became steeper, and the horses for some time past had been obliged to swim.
This unknown river, whose blue waters had never reflected anything but the azure of the skies and the green dome formed by the trees capriciously bending over its banks, presented to the eye a grand and majestic sight, impressing the mind with a kind of melancholy calm and religious awe.
The travellers, silent as phantoms, continued their journey, swimming slowly down the middle of the river, close at the heels of their guide, whose eagle glance explored its banks. Arriving at a place where an immense rock rose like a solitary watchtower, and formed an immense vault overhanging the stream, Stoneheart slipped from his horse, whose bridle he gave to Don Pedro, and swam under the arch, making a sign to the others to pursue their course. He soon reappeared in one of those Indian canoes which are built of birch bark, detached by means of boiling water, and whose lightness is unequalled. With a few strokes of the paddle he reached the travellers; the latter climbed into the canoe, and their horses, relieved from the weight of their riders, were able to swim with greater ease.
Doña Hermosa was very glad of the change. Still suffering from her wound, she began to feel much difficulty in keeping her seat on her horse, although she exerted herself to the utmost to conceal her fatigue. But the quick eye of the hunter had noticed her lassitude, and he had brought the canoe for her relief.
They still continued to advance in this manner for nearly an hour, without any occurrence to disturb their tranquillity or make them suspect the vicinity of an enemy. At last they reached a turn of the river where the banks rose, for a considerable space, to a prodigious height, and hemmed in the stream between two walls of rock terminating in peaks. In the centre of the river arose a block of grayish granite, about sixty yards in circumference, and towards it the hunter guided the canoe. The Mexicans, at first astonished at this manoeuvre, were not long before they comprehended it; for, when close in upon the rock, they discovered that one of its faces sloped down in a gentle incline, and in this face there yawned the mouth of a cavern.
The canoe touched the ground; the travellers disembarked, and hastened to bring the horses to land: the poor animals were spent with fatigue.
"Come," said the hunter, shouldering the canoe; and the Mexicans followed him.
The cavern was spacious, and seemed to extend under water to a great distance. The horses were stabled in a corner, and supplied with provender.
"Here," said the hunter, "we are as much in safety as it is possible to be in the desert. If nothing comes to trouble us, we will pass the night here, in order to give our horses the rest of which they stand so much in need. You can light a fire without hesitation; the fissures in the rock, which afford you light, will divide the smoke, and render it invisible. Although I believe I have hidden our trail from those in pursuit of us, it is still incumbent on me to make a reconnaissance outside. Be not uneasy; present or absent, I watch over you. I will return in an hour. But take heed not to show yourselves; in the virgin forest, who can tell what eyes may be upon him? Adieu for a time."
He went out, leaving his companions a prey to anxiety, which was the more lively because, although well aware that some great danger threatened, they could not foresee either whence or in what manner it would fall on them, and because they were completely at the mercy of a man whose character and ultimate intentions it was impossible to divine.