"Lie down, all of you," the Canadian said in a tone that admitted of no reply, "and sleep, so that you may be fresh for work when the hour arrives. I will keep watch for all, as your eyes would see nothing in the gloom."
"I will watch with you," said the count, "I feel that it would be impossible for me to sleep."
"Very good, señor."
Both then stationed themselves in a natural embrasure formed by two rocks coming close together, and began their watch, during which the Canadian carefully surveyed the river bank.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE REDSKINS
In the meanwhile the night had become more and more gloomy; the wind had risen in the north-east, driving before it heavy grey clouds, which intercepted the moonbeams, and collected over the canyon. The count, obliged to keep silent, and worn out by the fatigue of a long ride, felt his eyelids involuntarily droop. At first he resisted the lethargy that assailed him; but, as he could not change his position, he soon found it impossible to carry on the struggle. His head fell on his chest, his eyes closed, he let his rifle fall, and went fast asleep. The adventurer gazed at him for a moment with an expression of pity mingled with pride.
"A valiant soldier for all that," he muttered, "but incapable of withstanding the fatigue of a lengthened watch in the presence of the Indians; better for him to sleep in peace."
Then, with an anxiety which had something filial in its rough kindness, he took off his thick zarapé, of Indian manufacture, and carefully wrapped him up, the speaker saying in a whisper —
"The dew is heavy at this season of the year, and the nights are cold."
And he resumed his watch, looking around him carefully, in order to assure himself that, during the few seconds he had employed in doing this service to the count, no suspicious movement had occurred outside. Suddenly he started, and his eyes, obstinately fixed on an adjacent thicket, seemed trying to pierce the gloom. Gradually raising his rifle, whose barrel was browned, in order that the moonbeams might not be reflected from it, he cocked and raised it, but at the sound of the hammer a shadow emerged from the centre of the clump, and holding out its arms to the hunter, several times waved a buffalo robe.
At this signal of peace, which was familiar to him, the hunter, without lowering his rifle, so that he might be able to resist any attempted treachery, sharply asked the person standing motionless in front of him, who he was and what he wanted.
"My brother the Sumach is a great paleface brave," the stranger answered; "a chief wishes to sit at his fire, and smoke in council with him."
The hunter, on hearing the name of the Sumach, by which the Indians ordinarily designated him, understood that he was recognized; but he cared very little about it, for he was perfectly aware that the redskins knew the number of white men hidden by the rocks.
"You are drunk, redskin," he answered sharply. "Go and sleep off your mezcal and firewater. This is not the hour to try and enter a war encampment."
"The Sumach is wise," the Indian continued. "His medicine is powerful. What does he fear from one man? The White Crow is a great chief in his nation, and his tongue is not forked."
"If you are really White Crow," the hunter answered, "your words are true; but what proof will you give me?"
"This," the Indian said.
And hurriedly stooping, he set fire to a pile of dry leaves and dead wood, which he had probably collected for the purpose. In a second the wood crackled, and a brilliant flame rose skywards, illumining all surrounding objects, and especially the person of the Indian, who, with his arms crossed on his chest, and head erect, had placed himself so that not one of his features should escape the wood ranger's searching glance.
"It is well, chief," the Canadian said, as he rested his rifle butt on the ground, assured, apparently, at any rate, that the Indian was alone. "You can come and take your place by my fire."
At the noise caused by this interview, the Spaniards had risen and seized their weapons, in order to be ready for any event.
"What is the matter?" the count asked anxiously.
"Nothing out of the common in the rules of Indian tactics," the hunter answered; "a redskin chief desires, before attacking us, to make us probably unacceptable proposals."
"Why receive him, then?" the count continued.
"Refusing to do so would lead him and the demons hidden in the bushes to suppose that we are afraid; it is better to let him come. The time he loses here in useless words will be so much gained by us."
"That is true," the count said with a smile; "and what part do you propose we should play in this farce?"
"None at all. Go to sleep again, or, if your anxiety renders that impossible, pretend to sleep. This security on our part will produce a greater effect on the chief's mind than a ridiculous display of strength."
"But suppose this man only comes to us for the purpose of laying a trap," the count said earnestly.
"There is no fear of that; although Indians are regarded by white men as savages, they are civilized in their fashion, and have an honour of their own. Once they have pledged their word it may be trusted to in perfect security."
"Very well, my friend. You know better than I how you should behave to men with whose habits you are conversant, and therefore in the best way possible for our general safety."
"Trust to me for that, señor. I am as interested as yourself in the matter."
The count and his comrades, upon this assurance of the hunter, resumed their places, and when the chief appeared at the entrance of the encampment, all led him to believe that they were asleep.
"My brother, White Crow, is welcome to my fire," the Canadian said to him, "if he brings propositions of peace on behalf of his brothers."
"The intentions of the chief are good. It entirely depends on my brother whether they remain so."
The two men then bowed to each other with all the gravity demanded by Indian etiquette, and crouched down over the fire on which the Canadian had thrown some handfuls of dry wood to revive the flame. The chief then drew his pipe from his girdle, filled it with moriche, or sacred tobacco, lit it by the help of a twig, for fear lest his fingers should come in contact with the fire, and both men began smoking, silently passing the calumet to each other, from which they only drew three or four puffs at a time.
White Crow was a tall, well-built man, whose thin limbs, however, seemed tolerably strong. As far as it is possible to recognize an Indian's age, he did not seem to have passed middle life; his features were noble and marked, and his glance intelligent; the expression of his face was generally kindly. He was in full paint, and wore the war moccasins, which showed that he was on an expedition; excepting his scalping knife, which was passed through his belt of untanned deer hide, he was unarmed, at least apparently so.
When all the tobacco was consumed, the chief shook out the ashes on his thumbnail, passed the pipe again through his belt, and turned to the hunter, who was waiting, cold and impassive, till he thought proper to speak.
"The Comanches of the Lakes," he said, "are surprised at finding here a great brave like my brother the Sumach. Can he have become a friend of the Yoris, or have they taken him prisoner in some ambuscade, and made him their slave?"
"Neither one nor the other, chief; accident alone brought me into their company," the hunter sharply replied.
"The redskins have the eye of the eagle and the wisdom of the snake. They saw the Sumach enter the stone calli, which the whites call the Hacienda del Barrio, accompanied by white men, and leave it in the same fashion."
"What does that prove, chief? Besides it concerns you but little, I suppose, if I am a friend of the Yoris, as you call them."
"More than my brother the Sumach supposes. The Comanches of the Lakes love the great heart of the east, they have met him on the war trail; they know that the Sumach is a great brave, and do not wish to see him enveloped in the ruin of their enemies."
"I thank you and yours, chief," the Canadian said, still perfectly calm, "for the interest you are kind enough to show for me. I too love your brothers; I have never fought your tribe except against the grain, and I should be vexed to level my rifle at them."
"Wah! my brother speaks well; wisdom dwells in him. Let him follow the chief to his camp; his place is marked out at the council fire."
"I should be glad to do so, chief," the hunter said, with a sad shake of the head. "Heaven is my witness that I should like to avoid bloodshed between us. Unhappily, what you propose is impossible; honour forbids my acceptance. I have sworn to protect these men, and will die or escape with them."
The Indian reflected for some minutes. "My brother's intention is mad," he at length continued; "these Yoris must die."
"Why should it be so? Can they not ransom themselves? Why shed blood unnecessarily? The Yoris will pay a ransom, and the Comanches will allow them to continue their journey in peace."
The Indian, in his turn, shook his head sadly several times.
"No," he said, "this is not the Mexican moon; the Comanches are not seeking booty, but want revenge. My brother must not press me further, but will abandon the Yoris. One of the great Comanche chiefs has been insulted, and the avenger of blood is behind the palefaces; they will die; I have spoken."
The Canadian rose.
"Though I refuse to accept my brother's offer," he said, "I am not the less grateful for the step which he has uselessly taken, impelled by the interest he feels for me. Let him return to his men and repeat my words to them; they are those of a man whose heart is upright. Their enemies are my brothers, and I will defend them, whatever may happen; if they fall I shall fall with them; but, at any rate, I shall have the satisfaction of having done my duty, instead of committing a cowardly act unworthy of a warrior and a Christian."
"My brother's blood will fall on his own head," the chief said, with an accent of sadness, which he was unable to conceal entirely.
Then after bowing ceremoniously to the hunter, who returned his salute, he withdrew slowly, and soon disappeared in the darkness.
"Up, comrades," the Canadian said so soon as he was alone; "you will now have to prove yourselves brave men, for I predict that we shall be vigorously attacked within ten minutes."
In an instant the Spaniards were armed and ambushed behind the rocks. The count walked up to the hunter and said, as he cordially pressed his hand —
"Señor Olivero, I heard all; you could save yourself by abandoning us, but refused to do so. I thank you."
"Nonsense," the adventurer replied laughingly; "did you not understand that the Indian was setting a clumsy trap for me, into which I was not so simple as to fall?"
"Why try to reduce the merit of your loyal conduct? I know perfectly well, and you know as well as I do, that this man spoke the truth."
"That is possible. Would you not have done the same in my place?"
"That is a singular question. Do you imagine, pray, that everybody has your heroism?"
The Canadian began laughing, and the conversation broke off here for the present, for an immense belt of flame rose from the bank and dispelled the gloom as if by enchantment; the Indians were beginning their attack by firing the grass, so that they might see the enemy's camp at their ease. At the same instant a cloud of arrows and a hailstorm of bullets hailed over the camp, though it was impossible for the Spaniards to distinguish a single enemy.
"Spare your ammunition," the Canadian recommended his companions; "do not fire till you are certain; who knows how long this may last? Do not expose yourselves unless you wish to be traversed by an arrow or hit by a bullet; we are waging an Indian war, in which courage is most shown in prudence."
The hunter, however, with his body bent forward, was attentively seeking an opportunity to fire, following the direction of the shots; but the redskins knew by experience the infallible precision of his aim, and were not at all anxious to serve as his target; hence they redoubled their precautions. Suddenly the Canadian fancied he saw a slight movement behind some logs collected on the bank and fired. At the same instant an Indian leapt up like a wounded buck, and then fell back; several warriors dashed forward to pick up his body, and four fresh shots produced four more corpses. The Indians thereupon fled, abandoning their wounded, who writhed, in the last convulsions of death, and all fell back into such deep silence that had it not been for the sight of the corpses and the increasing conflagration, it might have been supposed that all had been a dream.
"Well," the count said, as he reloaded his gun, "it was a sharp skirmish, but the lesson was a good one, and I hope they will profit by it."
"Do not fancy that they will so easily give up getting hold of you. Have a little patience and you will see them return. Have we any wounded?"
"Not a soul."
"Heaven be blessed! Let us redouble our vigilance, for it is probable that they are at this moment inventing some diabolical stratagem to deceive us."
Nearly two hours elapsed, and the redskins did not make the slightest movement indicating their desire to attempt a fresh attack.
"I believe, my friend," the count said, "that you are mistaken, and that these demons have definitively given up the contest."
The Canadian shook his head, as he sought to distinguish what was going on upon the river bank by the expiring flames of the conflagration. Suddenly he burst into a passionate cry, "¡Viva Dios!" he shouted; "Look at those demons incarnate, they are rolling trunks of trees, behind which they are sheltered like cunning opossums; if we do not take care we shall have them upon us within a quarter of an hour."
The hunter had guessed correctly. The redskins, after cutting down a considerable number of trees, had formed them into a sort of flying barricade, behind which they advanced till they reached the river bank, and had but a few yards to go in order to arrive at the rocks. Once there, they would begin a hand to hand fight, in which their numerical superiority would infallibly gain them the advantage. The situation was growing critical for the besieged; each moment rendered it worse, for they were compelled to keep up an incessant fire on invisible enemies, who continued to advance without taking the trouble to reply, being protected by the bullets and arrows of several of their party, who remained behind, and skirmished with the Spaniards, whom they thus obliged to display great caution to avoid being hit, and in consequence could not fire with their usual skill. On reaching the spot where the belt of rocks began, the Indians rose all together and bounded forward like a pack of tigers, uttering horrible yells.
"We must die now," the Canadian exclaimed.
Seven guns were discharged together, and seven enemies fell. But the others pressed on; they leapt over the bodies and rushed at the Spaniards. Then began a struggle impossible to describe, of seven men against thirty; a gigantic struggle, heroically though hopelessly sustained by the white men, who, in spite of prodigious efforts, saw the moment rapidly approaching when they must succumb.
The count especially fought with admirable energy against the Indians, who pressed him closely and seemed anxious to seize his person. Several times, had it not been for the Canadian's devotion, he would have been carried off by the redskins. Several Spaniards lay dead or seriously wounded, a few moments more, a few seconds perhaps, and all would be over with the white men – when a strange event suddenly occurred. A horrible clamour began among the Indians, who, for no apparent cause, were attacked by a panic and fled in all directions, crying with an accent of indescribable despair —
"Woe, woe! The Queen of the Savannah, the Queen of the Savannah!"
At the same instant three riders appeared in the canyon, driving before them the redskins, who did not attempt to resist, but fled in all directions. The Spaniards were saved at the very moment when they fancied themselves lost. Indeed, it was time for this help to arrive, for of eight, only three remained on their feet, the rest were dead!
The flight of the Indians gradually became converted into a thorough rout; the strange riders, at the head of whom it was easy to distinguish a female, passed the Spanish encampment like a tornado, and disappeared in the darkness, still obstinately pursuing the fugitives. The travellers, so miraculously saved, remained alone, suffering from great perplexity, not knowing whether they were really delivered, or had another attack to apprehend from their ferocious and implacable foes.
CHAPTER XV.
COUNT DE MELGOSA
The Spaniards remained on the defensive for some time longer; they could not believe in their marvellous deliverance, and expected the redskins to return at every moment and attack them again. The entire night however passed without the deep silence of the desert being disturbed otherwise than by the ferocious howling of the jaguars, and the snapping bark of the coyotes, which were proceeding in packs to the watering places. At sunrise they perceived that the canyon was entirely deserted, and that their savage enemies had given up all attempts to carry their encampment by storm. After returning thanks to heaven for the unexpected help sent them in their distress, they busily set to work burying the dead, in order that they might be able to start as soon as possible.
Their loss during the obstinate fight with the Indians was serious. Four of the count's brave soldiers had fallen, the two others were wounded, and himself and the Canadian had only escaped by a miracle. The hunter was forced to allow that for the fifteen years he had been traversing the prairie, in all the engagements he had fought with the redskins, he never saw them proceed with so much method, and display such obstinacy in their attack. The Spaniards, certain of having nothing more to fear, left their entrenchments and proceeded to the mainland in order to bury their dead.
At length, when they had paid the last rites to their comrades, and had rolled heavy stones upon the graves to prevent the bodies being profaned by wild beasts, the hunters hastily took their morning meal, saddled their horses, and set out again, saddened by the mournful incident which had interrupted their journey so painfully. All smiled around them. The day announced itself under magnificent auspices, the birds saluted with their merry songs the apparition of the day star, the leaves glistened with dew, a thick mist rose from the ground, a perfumed breeze rustled the branches. In a word, all breathed calm joy and pure happiness in this desert which, but a few hours previously, had been witness of a horrid scene of carnage.
As on the previous day, the count and the adventurer rode side by side, absorbed in gloomy thoughts, and looking round them absently and carelessly. At length the Canadian drew himself up, shook his head several times as if to dismiss a troublesome thought, and turning to the count said, as if he were completing aloud an internal thought —
"Stuff, a little sooner or a little later, a man must die after all."
"Yes," the count said with a sad smile, "dying is indeed the common law. But dying thus, far from one's friends, beneath the bullets of unworthy foes, without benefit to humanity – that is truly frightful, and what heaven ought not to permit."
"Do not murmur against Providence, señor. These men have fallen, it is true; but their death was not so useless as you seem to think, because it enabled you to await the help which delivered you."
"That is true, and I am wrong; still I cannot help pitying the fate of devoted servants, whose death I indirectly caused."
"It was a glorious fight, vigorously carried on upon both sides. Still it was time for our liberators to arrive. Had they not, it is more than probable that we should now be also lying lifeless on the ground. But," he added, after a moment's reflection, "why did our saviours go off in that way? I fancy they might have joined us, if not to receive our congratulations and thanks, at least to inquire into our state."
"What good would that do? The Queen of the Savannah heard our muskets, that was sufficient to prove to her that we were still alive and able to fight."
"That is possible," the Canadian continued thoughtfully; "but however great may be the obligation I have contracted towards the extraordinary woman you call by that name, I shall not be satisfied till I shall have been close to her."
"Why so? With what have you to reproach her? Why obstinately try to disturb the secrets of a person who must be an object of indifference to you?"
"You are mistaken on that head, señor. This woman, this strange being, has already interfered twice in my affairs at a very short interval of time. A man like myself, señor, does not contract serious obligations, unless he knows that he will be able someday to repay to the person who forces such protection upon him."
The count burst into a laugh.
"Caballero, caballero," he said, "you are punctilious, and difficult to satisfy. Anyone in your place would readily put up with the affront, and not be at all anxious to know to whom he owes so great an obligation."
"Everybody, señor, looks at matters from his own point of sight; for my part I repeat that the way in which the woman to whom we are alluding has twice interfered in my affairs has excited in me, I will not say a curiosity, but such a lively interest, that I swear to you I mean to learn something about her at all risks so soon as I am at liberty again."
"Take my advice, Don Oliver, do not try to discover the matter, for there is a sad story beneath it."
"You know her, then?"
"Perhaps so. I can only form conjectures, for the persons directly interested in that woman's actions insist on maintaining the deepest silence."
"Why, wait a minute," the Canadian said, hitting his forehead like a man who suddenly remembers something he had quite forgotten, "I believe now that Don Aurelio Gutiérrez told us at the Hacienda del Barrio certain facts connected with this person."
"To what are you alluding, señor?"
"Good gracious! I attached but slight importance to the narrative at the time, so that what I heard is very confused in my head. Still I think it referred to the extermination of an Indian tribe encamped on Don Aníbal de Saldibar's estates, and atrocious revenge on the part of the redskins, in consequence of which the hacendero's wife became insane."
"Yes, all that you say is true. When Doña Emilia regained her reason she vowed an implacable hatred against the Indians, and since that period, if what is said be true, she has constantly pursued them without truce or mercy, hunting them down, and massacring them like wild beasts."
"That is indeed extraordinary."
"The redskins, tracked by this lady, whom they believe to be protected by a charm, as she has constantly foiled their snares and escaped unwounded from all their attacks, have conceived such a superstitious fear for her that her name alone, as you saw last night, is sufficient to cause them a wild terror and set them to flight, and as if rendering homage to the terror with which she has continued to inspire them, they have given her the name you heard repeated during the fight."
"The Queen of the Savannah?"
"Yes."
"I have often heard the Indians speak of this strange creature, whom they imagine to be a species of malevolent genius, and about whom they recount the most fantastic and improbable stories; but I confess I was far from suspecting that the Queen of the Savannah and Doña Emilia de Saldibar were one and the same person."
"I do not say that they are, and I affirm nothing; I merely repeat to you what is said."
"How is it that you, a friend of Don Aníbal, are not better informed about the affair?"
"Because, I repeat once again, Don Aníbal maintains an obstinate silence on the subject; and if by any chance this mysterious being is alluded to in his presence he at once turns the conversation, so that no one exactly knows what to believe, and is forced to make conjectures more or less probable."
"Very good," the hunter answered, "I thank you for your information, caballero. But, ¡viva Dios! I swear to you that I will force Don Aníbal to tell me how matters really are; or, if he will not, I shall not hesitate to question his wife."
"I doubt greatly whether you will be able to obtain even the shortest interview with her. She is constantly shut up in her apartments with her daughter. No one sees her, and several of her domestics even do not know her."
"You excite my curiosity the more, señor."
"All the worse for you, caballero," the count continued; "for admitting that you succeeded in seeing Doña Emilia, I am convinced that she would not consent to answer any of the questions you thought proper to ask her."
"Oh, oh! That appears to me rather too strong; but no matter, I will not recognize defeat, and I pledge you my word that so soon as I return to the hacienda, I will try, by all the means in my power, to obtain the clue of the enigma."
"As you please, caballero. I have warned you, and have no right to check or encourage you in what you intend doing. Still, if I may be allowed to offer my advice in so serious a matter, I would invite you to refrain. It is not always prudent to try and interfere in people's business against their will, especially when it does not concern you in any way."
"I thank you for your advice, caballero, though it is not in my power to follow it. But," he said, as he stopped his horse, and laid his hand over his forehead to keep off the sunlight, "who is that coming down there?"
"Where?" the count asked, imitating the hunter.
"There, in front of us; a horseman is coming up at full speed."
"It is true," the count said; "I can just distinguish him in the cloud of dust raised by his horse's hoofs."
"Hum!" the Canadian said, as he cocked his rifle; "If he be alone, we can easily settle him; but when a thing is doubtful, it is always as well to take one's precautions."
"What are you about?"
"As you can see, I am preparing to receive the coming visitor."
In the meanwhile, the horseman rapidly approached the Spaniards, and it was soon easy to see, by his dress and horse harness, that he was a Mexican. While galloping, this man made signs as if wishing to attract the attention of the travellers, and induce them to advance.
"I was not mistaken," the count said all at once; "uncock your rifle, caballero; you have nothing to fear, for that individual is one of my peons. What motive could have induced the countess to send off a courier?"
"We are going to learn," the Canadian replied, as he laid his rifle across the saddlebow again, "for he will have joined us in five minutes."
In fact, the horseman shortly after accosted them. He was a sturdy peon, with sun burnt face and powerful limbs; he was well armed, and rode one of those prairie horses which European steeds can never equal. On coming up to his master, he stopped his horse so short that its four feet seemed to be suddenly welded to the ground, and, bowing respectfully to the count, he took from the China crape faja, tightly fastened around his hips, a bag of opossum skin, from which he drew a letter, and handed it to his master. The count opened the letter, but before reading it looked at the peon with ill-disguised anxiety, and said to him —
"Has anything new occurred at the hacienda, Diego López?"
"Nothing, mi amo, that I know of at least."
"The señora is not indisposed?"
"No, Excellency; but on learning from the lancero, whom you sent to Leona Vicario, that you would probably pass the hacienda on your return without stopping, she gave me this letter, and bade me make all speed."
"Is that really all? You are telling the truth, Diego López?"
"By my share of Paradise, Excellency, I have told you all exactly as it happened."
"Very good – wait."
And, turning to the Canadian, he said —
"Will you permit me?"
"A letter which has arrived in this way, señor, must be of importance, so read it without further delay."
The count at once began reading, but he had only got through a few lines ere his face was covered with a deadly pallor.
"What is the matter, señor?" the hunter asked anxiously; "Are you ill, or has the letter really brought bad news?"
"Neither, caballero," the count answered, making a violent effort to regain his coolness; "I thank you, but this letter reminds me of a date which I had not forgotten, alas!" he said with a sigh, "For that is impossible, but which I might have allowed to pass, owing to present circumstances. Instead of conducting you straight to Leona Vicario, as I originally intended, I am compelled to stop at my hacienda. Are you disposed to accept the poor rustic hospitality I can offer you, or will you continue your journey to the ciudad, under the guidance of Diego López?"
"I am entirely at your disposal, señor, and will do what you think proper, as I am in no hurry; you shall decide my movements."
"As you are so accommodating, we will proceed to the hacienda. Diego López, ride on ahead, and inform your mistress of our speedy arrival."
The peon bowed, bent over his horse's neck, dug his spurs into its sides, and started at a gallop.
"We need not hurry," the count said, "for we are only two leagues at the most from the hacienda."
"I will ride at your pace," the hunter replied; "besides, the sun is still high."
"The hospitality we have to offer will be sad, señor; family grief has, unfortunately, banished joy for ever from my hearth. I ask you, therefore, to excuse any formality which may be visible in the countess's reception of you."
The Canadian bowed politely, and they went on. In about an hour, they perceived the lofty and thick walls of a vast hacienda, built on the top of a scarped rock.