CHAPTER XIX.
UNICORN.
Before retiring to rest Father Seraphin, on the previous evening, hadwhispered a couple of words in the Indians' ears. The sun had scarcebegun to rise a little above the extreme blue line of the horizon erethe missionary opened his eyes, and after a short prayer hurried to thehall in which his companions had remained. The four men were stillasleep, wrapped in their furs and buffalo skins.
"Wake up, brothers," Father Seraphin said, "for day is appearing."
The four men started up in an instant.
"My brothers," the young missionary said in a gentle and penetratingvoice, "I thought that we ought, before separating, to thank God incommon: for the blessings He does not cease to vouchsafe to us--tocelebrate our happy meeting of last night. I have, therefore, resolvedto hold a mass, at which I shall be happy to see you with that purity ofheart which such a duty demands."
At this proposition the four men exclaimed gladly their assent.
"I will help you to prepare the altar, father," Valentine said; "theidea is excellent."
"The altar is all ready, my friends. Have the kindness to follow me."
Father Seraphin then led them out of the grotto.
In the centre of a small esplanade in front of the cave an altar hadbeen built by Eagle-wing and Curumilla on a grassy mound. It was verysimple. A copper crucifix planted in the centre of the mound, covered bya cloth of dazzling whiteness; on either side of it two block-tincandlesticks, in which burned candles of yellow tallow, a Bible on theright, the pyx in the centre--that was all.
The hunter and the two Mexicans knelt piously, and Father Seraphincommenced offering the holy sacrifice, served devotedly by the twoIndian chiefs.
It was a magnificent morning; thousands of birds, hidden beneath thefoliage, saluted the birth of day with their harmonious songs; a ficklebreeze poured through the branches, and refreshed the air; in thedistance, far as eye could extend, undulated the prairie, with itsoceans of tall grass incessantly agitated by the hurried foot falls ofthe wild beasts returning to their dens; and on the naked side of thishill, at the entrance of this grotto--one of the marvels of the NewWorld--a priest, simple as an apostle, was celebrating mass on a grassaltar under the eye of Heaven, served by two poor savages, and having assole congregation three half-civilised men.
This spectacle, so simple primitive, had something about it imposing andsublime, which inspired respect and summoned up dreams of ancient days,when the persecuted church took refuse in the desert, to find itselfface to face with God. Hence the emotion experienced by the witnesses ofthis religious act was sincere. A beam of happiness descended into theirsouls, and it was with real effusion that they thanked the priest forthe pleasant surprise he had reserved for them. Father Seraphin wasdelighted at the result he had attained. Seeing the truly profound faithof his friends, he felt his courage heightened to continue the rude andnoble task he had imposed on himself.
The mass lasted about three quarters of an hour. When it was finishedthe missionary placed the poor holy vessels in the bag he constantlycarried with him, and they returned to the grotto for breakfast. An hourlater, Don Miguel, General Ibanez, and the missionary took leave ofValentine, and mounted on their horses, which Curumilla had led to theentrance of the ravine. They started at a gallop in the direction of thePaso del Norte, whence they were about twenty leagues distant. Valentineand the two Indian chiefs remained behind.
"I am about to leave my brother," Eagle-wing said.
"Why not remain with us, chief?"
"My pale brother no longer requires Eagle-wing. The chief hears thecries of the men and women of his tribe who were cowardly assassinated,and demand vengeance."
"Where goes my brother?" the hunter asked, who was too thoroughlyacquainted with the character of the Indians to try and change thewarrior's determination, though he was vexed at his departure.
"The Coras dwell in villages on the banks of the Colorado. Eagle-wing isreturning to his friends. He will ask for warriors to avenge hisbrothers who are dead."
Valentine bowed.
"May the Great Spirit protect my father!" he said. "The road is long tothe villages of his tribe. The chief is leaving friends who love him."
"Eagle-wing knows it: he will remember," the chief said with a deepintonation.
And, after pressing the hands the two hunters held out to him, hebounded on his horse, and soon disappeared in the windings of thecanyon.
Valentine watched his departure with a sad and melancholy look.
"Shall I ever see him again!" he murmured. "He is an Indian: he isfollowing his vengeance. It is his nature: he obeys it, and God willjudge him. Every man must obey his destiny."
After this aside the hunter threw his rifle on his shoulder and startedin his turn, followed by Curumilla. Valentine and his comrade were onfoot: they preferred that mode of travelling, which seemed to them sure,and quite as quick as on horseback. The two men, after the Indiancustom, walked one behind the other, not uttering a syllable; but towardmidday the heat became so insupportable that they were obliged to stopto take a few moments' repose. At length the sunbeams lost theirstrength, the evening breeze rose, and the hunters could resume theirjourney. They soon reached the banks of the Rio Puerco (Dirty River),which they began ascending, keeping as close as they could to the banks,while following the tracks made since time immemorial by wild animalscoming down to drink.
The man unacquainted with the splendid American scenery will have adifficulty in imagining the imposing and savage majesty of the prairiethe hunters were traversing. The river, studded with islets covered withcottonwood trees, flowed silent and rapid between banks of slightelevation, and overgrown with grass so tall that it obeyed the impulseof the wind from a long distance. Over the vast plain were scatteredinnumerable hills, whose summits, nearly all of the same height, presenta flat surface; and for a greater distance northward the ground wasbroadcast with large lumps of pebbles resembling gravestones.
At a few hundred yards from the river rose a conical mound, bearing onits summit a granite obelisk one hundred and twenty feet in height. TheIndians, who, like all primitive nations, are caught by anythingstrange, frequently assembled at this spot; and here the hecatombs areoffered to the Kitchi Manitou.
A great number of buffalo skulls, piled up at the foot of the column,and arranged in circles, ellipses, and other geometrical figures, attesttheir piety for this god of the hunt, whose protecting spirit, they say,looks down from the top of the monolith. Here and there grew patches ofthe Indian potato, wild onion, prairie tomato, and those millions ofstrange flowers and trees composing the American flora. The rest of thecountry was covered with tall grass, continually undulating beneath thelight footfall of the graceful antelopes or big horns, which boundedfrom one rock to the other, startled by the approach of the travellers.
Far, far away on the horizon, mingling with the azure of the sky,appeared the denuded peaks of the lofty mountains that serve asunassailable fortresses to the Indians: their summits, covered witheternal snow, formed the frame of this immense and imposing picture,which was stamped with a gloomy and mysterious grandeur.
At the hour when the _maukawis_ uttered its last song to salute thesetting of the sun, which, half plunged in the purple of evening, stilljaspered the sky with long red bands, the travellers perceived the tentsof the Comanches picturesquely grouped on the sides of a verdurous hill.The Indians had, in a few hours, improvised a real village with theirbuffalo skin tents, aligned to form streets and squares.
On arriving at about five hundred yards from the village the hunterssuddenly perceived an Indian horseman. Evincing not the slightestsurprise, they stopped and unfolded their buffalo robes, which floatedin the breeze, as a signal of peace. The horseman uttered a loud cry. Atthis signal--for it was evidently one--a troop of Comanche warriorsdebouched at a gallop from the village, and poured like a torrent downthe sides of the hill, coming up close to the motionless travellers,brandishing their weapons, and utterin
g their war yell.
The hunters waited, carelessly leaning on their guns. Assuredly, to aman not acquainted with the singular manners of the prairie, this modeof reception would have seemed overt hostilities. But it was not so;for, on coming within range of the hunters, the Comanches began makingtheir horses leap and curvet with that grace and skill characteristic ofthe Indians, and deploying to the right and left, they formed a vastcircle, inclosing the two unmoved hunters.
Then a horseman quitted the group, dismounted, and rapidly approachedthe newcomers: the latter hastened to meet him. All three had their armextended with the palm forward in sign of peace. The Indian who thusadvanced to meet the hunters was Unicorn, the great chief of theComanches.
As a distinctive sign of his race, his skin was of a red tinge, brighterthan the palest new copper. He was a man of thirty at the most, withmasculine and expressive features; his face possessed a remarkableintelligence, and was stamped with that natural majesty found among thesavage children of the prairie; he was tall and well built; and hismuscular limbs evidenced a vigour and suppleness against which few menwould have contended with advantage.
He was completely painted and armed for war; his black hair was drawn upon his head in the form of a casque, and fell down his back like a mane;a profusion of wampum collars, claws of grizzly bear, and buffalo teethadorned his breast, on which was painted with rare dexterity a bluetortoise, the distinctive sign of the tribe to which he belonged, and ofthe size of a hand.
The rest of his costume was composed of the _mitasses_, fastened roundthe hips by a leathern belt, and descending to the ankles; a deerskinshirt, with long hanging sleeves, the seams of which, like those of themitasse, were fringed with leather strips and feathers; a wide cloak, ofthe hide of a female buffalo, was fastened across his shoulders with abuckle of pure gold, and fell down to the ground; on his feet he hadelegant moccasins of different colours, embroidered with beads andporcupine quills, from the heels of which trailed several wolf tails; alight round shield, covered with buffalo hide, and decorated with humanscalps, hung on his left side by his panther skin quiver full of arrows.His weapons were those of the Comanche Indians; that is to say, thescalping knife, the tomahawk, a bow, and an American rifle; but a longwhip, the handle of which painted red, was adorned with scalps,indicated his rank as chief.
When the three men were close together they saluted by raising theirhands to their foreheads; then Valentine and Unicorn crossed their armsby passing the right hand over the left shoulder, and bowing their headsat the same time, kissed each other's mouth after the prairie fashion.Unicorn then saluted Curumilla in the same way; and this preliminaryceremony terminated, the Comanche chief took the word.
"My brothers are welcome at the village of my tribe," he said. "I wasexpecting them impatiently. I had begged the Chief of Prayer of thepalefaces to invite them in my name."
"He performed his promise last night. I thank my brother for havingthought of me."
"The two stranger great hunters are friends of Unicorn. His heart wassad not to see them near him for the buffalo hunt his young people arepreparing."
"Here we are! We set out this morning at sunrise."
"My brothers will follow me, and rest at the council fire."
The hunters bowed assent. Each received a horse, and at a signal fromUnicorn, who had placed himself between them, the troop started at agallop, and returned to the village, which it entered to the deafeningsound of drums, chikikouis, shouts of joy from the women and childrenwho saluted their return, and the furious barking of the dogs. When thechiefs were seated round the council fire the pipe was lit, andceremoniously presented to the two strangers, who smoked in silence forsome minutes. When the pipe had gone the round several times Unicornaddressed Valentine.
"Koutonepi is a great hunter," he said to him; "he has often followedthe buffalo on the plains of the Dirty River. The chief will tell himthe preparations he has made, that the hunter may give his opinion."
"It is needless, chiefs," Valentine replied. "The buffalo is the friendof the redskins: the Comanches know all its stratagems. I should like toask a question of my brother."
"The hunter can speak; my ears are open."
"How long will the chief remain on the hunting grounds with his youngmen?"
"About a week. The buffaloes are suspicious: my young men aresurrounding them, but they drive them in our direction before four orfive days."
Valentine gave a start of joy.
"Good," he said. "Is my brother sure of it?"
"Very sure."
"How many warriors have remained with the chief?"
"About four hundred: the rest are scattered over the plain to announcethe approach of the buffaloes."
"Good! If my brother likes I will procure him a fine hunt within threedays."
"Ah!" the chief exclaimed, "then my brother has started some game?"
"Oh!" Valentine answered with a laugh, "Let my brother trust to me, andI promise him rich spoils."
"Good! Of what game does my brother speak?"
"Of _gachupinos_[1]. In two days they will meet in large numbers not farfrom here."
"Wah!" said the Comanche, whose eyes sparkled at this news, "My youngmen will hunt them. My brother must explain."
Valentine shook his head.
"My words are for the ears of a chief," he said.
Without replying, Unicorn made a signal: the Indians rose silently, andleft the tent. Curumilla and Unicorn alone remained near the fire.Valentine then explained to the Comanche, in its fullest details, theplan he had conceived, in the execution of which the aid of the Indianswas indispensable for him. Unicorn listened attentively withoutinterrupting. When Valentine had ended,--
"What does my brother think?" the latter asked, fixing a scrutinisingglance on the impassive countenance of the chief.
"Wah!" the other replied, "the paleface is very crafty. Unicorn will dowhat he desires."
This assurance filled Valentine's heart with joy.
[1] Wearers of shoes--a name given by the Indians to the Spaniards atthe conquest.
The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West Page 19