The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER III.

  THE HUNTERS.

  At about two leagues from Santa Fe, in a clearing situated on the banksof the stream which borders that town, and on the evening of the sameday, a man was seated before a large fire, which he carefully kept up,while actively engaged in making preparations for supper. A frugal meal,at any rate, this supper! It was composed of a buffalo hump, a fewpotatoes, and maize tortillas baked on the ashes, the whole washed downwith pulque.

  The night was gloomy. Heavy black clouds coursed athwart the sky, attimes intercepting the sickly rays of the moon, which only shed anuncertain light over the landscape, which was itself buried in one ofthose dense mists that, in equatorial countries, exhale from the groundafter a hot day. The wind blew violently through the trees, whosebranches came in contact, with plaintive moans: and in the depths of thewoods the miawling of the wild cats was mingled with the snarl of thecoyotes and the howls of the pumas and jaguars. All at once the sound ofgalloping horses could be heard in the forest, and two riders burst intothe clearing. On seeing them the hunter uttered an exclamation of joy,and hurried to meet them. They were Don Pablo and Curumilla.

  "Heaven be praised!" the hunter said. "Here you are at last. I wasbeginning to grow alarmed at your long absence."

  "You see that nothing has happened to me," the young man answered,affectionately pressing the hunter's hands.

  Don Pablo had dismounted, and hobbled his own horse and Curumilla's nearValentine, while the Indian chief busied himself in preparing thesupper.

  "Come, come," the hunter said gaily, "to table. You must be hungry, andI am dying of inanition. You can tell me all that has occurred while weare eating."

  The three men went to the table; that is, they seated themselves on thegrass in front of the fire, and vigorously assailed their meagre repast.Desert life has this peculiarity--that in whatever position you may findyourself, as the struggles you go through are generally physical ratherthan moral, nature never resigns her claims: you feel the need ofkeeping up your strength, so as to be ready for all eventualities. Thereis no alarm great enough to prevent you from eating and drinking.

  "Now," Valentine asked presently, "what have you done? I fancy youremained much longer than was necessary in that accursed town."

  "We did, my friend. Certain reasons forced me to remain longer than Ihad at first intended."

  "Proceed in regular order, if you have no objection. I fancy that is theonly way of understanding each other."

  "Act as you please, my friend."

  "Very good: the chief and I will light our Indian pipes while you makeyour cigarette. We will sit with our backs to the fire, so as to watchthe neighbourhood, and in that way can converse without apprehension.What do you say, Pablo?"

  "You are always right, my friend. Your inexhaustible gaiety, your honestcarelessness, restore me all my courage, and make me quite a differentman."

  "Hum!" Valentine said, "I am glad to hear you speak so. The position isserious, it is true; but it is far from being desperate. The chief and Ihave many times been in situations were our lives only depended on athread: and yet we always emerged from them honourably--did we not,chief?"

  "Yes," the Indian answered laconically, drawing in a mouthful of smoke,which he sent forth again from his mouth and nostrils.

  "But that is not the question of the moment. I have sworn to save yourfather and sister, Pablo, and will do so, or my carcass shall be foodfor the wild beasts of the prairie; so leave me to act. Have you seenFather Seraphin?"

  "Yes, I have. Our poor friend is still very weak and pale, and his woundis scarce cicatrised. Still, paying no heed to his sufferings, andderiving strength from his unbounded devotion to humanity, he has doneall we agreed on. For the last week he has only left my father to hastento his judges. He has seen the general, the governor, thebishop--everybody, in short--and has neglected nothing. Unfortunatelyall his exertions have hitherto been fruitless."

  "Patience!" the hunter said with a smile of singular meaning.

  "Father Seraphin believes for certain that my father will be placed inthe capilla within two days. The governor wishes to have done withit--that is the expression he employed; and Father Seraphin told me thatwe have not a moment to lose."

  "Two days are a long time, my friend; before they have elapsed manythings may have occurred."

  "That is true; but my father's life is at stake, and I feel timid."

  "Good, Don Pablo; I like to hear you speak so. But reassure yourself;all is going on well, I repeat."

  "Still, my friend, I believe it would be wise to take certainprecautions. Remember it is a question of life or death, and we mustmake haste. How many times, under similar circumstances, have the bestarranged plans failed! Do you think that your measures are well taken?Do you not fear lest an unhappy accident may derange all your plans atthe decisive moment?"

  "We are playing at this moment the devil's own game, my friend,"Valentine answered coldly. "We have chance on our side; that is to say,the greatest power that exists, and which governs the world."

  The young man lowered his head, as if but slightly convinced. The hunterregarded him for a moment with a mixture of interest and tender pity,and then continued in a soothing voice,--

  "Listen, Don Pablo de Zarate," he said. "I have said that I will saveyour father, and mean to do so. Still I wish him to leave the prison inwhich he now is, like a man of his character ought to leave it, in openday, greeted by the applause of the crowd, and not by escaping furtivelyduring the night, like a vile criminal. Hang it all! Do you think itwould have been difficult for me to enter the town, and effect yourfather's escape by filing the bars or bribing the jailer? I would not doit. Don Miguel would not have accepted that cowardly and shamefulflight. Your father shall leave his prison, but begged to do so by thegovernor himself, and all the authorities of Santa Fe. So regain yourcourage, and no longer doubt a man whose friendship and experienceshould, on the contrary, restore your confidence."

  The young man had listened to these words with even increasing interest.When Valentine ceased speaking he seized his hand.

  "Pardon me, my friend," he answered him. "I know how devoted you are tomy family; but I suffer, and grief renders me unjust. Forgive me."

  "Child, let us forget it all. Was the town quiet today?"

  "I cannot tell you, for I was so absorbed in thought that I saw nothinggoing on around me. Still I fancy there was a certain agitation, whichwas not natural, on the Plaza Mayor, near the governor's palace."

  Valentine indulged once again in that strange smile that had alreadyplayed round the corners of his delicate lips.

  "Good!" he said. "And did you, as I advised, try to gain any informationabout Red Cedar?"

  "Yes," he answered with a start of joy, "I did; and I have positivenews."

  "Ah, ah! How so?"

  "I will tell you."

  And Don Pablo described the scene that had taken place in the rancho.The hunter listened to it with the utmost attention, and when it wasfinished he tossed his head several times with an air ofdissatisfaction.

  "All young people are so," he muttered; "they always allow their passionto carry them beyond the bounds of reason. You were wrong, extremelywrong, Don Pablo," he then added. "Red Cedar believed you dead, and thatmight have been of great use to us presently. You do not know theimmense power that demon has at his disposal: all the bandits on thefrontier are devoted to him. Your outbreak will be most injurious toyour sister's safety."

  "Still, my friend--"

  "You acted like a madman in arousing the slumbering fury of the tiger.Red Cedar will persist in destroying you. I have known the wretch for along time. But that is not the worst you have done."

  "What is it, then?"

  "Why, madman as you are, instead of keeping dark, watching your enemieswithout saying a word--in short, seeing through their game--by anunpardonable act of bravado you have unmasked all your batteries."

  "I do not understand you, my friend."

&nb
sp; "Fray Ambrosio is a villain of a different stamp from Red Cedar, it istrue; but I consider him even a greater scoundrel than the scalp hunter.At any rate, the latter is purely a rogue, and you know what to expectfrom him: all about him bears the stamp of his hideous soul. Had youstabbed that wild beast, who perspires blood by every pore, and dreamsof naught but murder, I might possibly have pardoned you; but you havecompletely failed, not only in prudence, but in good sense, by acting asyou have done with Fray Ambrosio. That man is a hypocrite. He owes allto your family, and is furious at seeing this treachery discovered. Takecare, Don Pablo. You have made at one blow two implacable enemies, themore terrible now because they have nothing to guard against."

  "It is true," the young man said; "I acted like a fool. But what wouldyou? At the sight of those two men, when I heard from their very lipsthe crimes they had committed, and those they still meditate against us,I was no longer master of myself. I entered the rancho, and you know therest."

  "Yes, yes, the cuchillada was a fine one. Certainly the bandit deservedit; but I fear lest the cross you so smartly drew on his face will costyou dearly some day."

  "Well, let us leave it in the hand of Heaven. You know the proverb, 'Itis better to forget what cannot be remedied.' Provided my father escapethe fate that menaces him, I shall be happy. I shall take my precautionsto defend myself."

  "Did you learn nothing further?"

  "Yes; Red Cedar's gambusinos are encamped a short distance from us. Iknow that their chief intends starting tomorrow at the latest."

  "Oh, oh! Already? We must make haste and prepare our ambuscade, if wewish to discover the road they mean to follow."

  "When shall we start?"

  "At once."

  The three men made their preparations; the horses were saddled, thesmall skins the horseman always carries at his saddle-bow in these drycountries were filled with water, and five minutes later the huntersmounted. At the moment they were leaving the clearing a rustling ofleaves was heard, the branches parted, and an Indian appeared. It wasUnicorn, the great sachem of the Comanches. On seeing him the three mendismounted and waited. Valentine advanced alone to meet the Indian.

  "My brother is welcome," he said. "What does he want of me?"

  "To see the face of a friend," the chief answered in a gentle voice.

  The two men then bowed after the fashion of the prairie. After thisceremony Valentine went on:

  "My father must approach the fire, and smoke from the calumet of hiswhite friends."

  "I will do so," Unicorn answered.

  And drawing near the fire, he crouched down in Indian fashion, took hispipe from his belt, and smoked in silence. The hunters, seeing the turnthis unexpected interview was taking, had fastened up their horses, andseated themselves again round the fire. A few minutes passed thus, noone speaking, each waiting till the Indian chief should explain themotive of his coming. At length Unicorn shook the ashes from hiscalumet, returned it to his belt, and addressed Valentine.

  "Is my brother setting out to hunt buffaloes again?" he said. "There aremany this year on the prairies of the Rio Gila."

  "Yes," the Frenchman replied, "we are going hunting. Does my brotherintend to accompany us?"

  "No; my heart is sad.

  "What means the chief? Has any misfortune happened to him?"

  "Does not my brother understand me, or am I really mistaken? It is thatmy brother only really loves the buffaloes, whose meat he eats, andwhose hides he sells at the _tolderia_?"

  "Let my brother explain himself more clearly; then I will try to answerhim."

  There was a moment of silence. The Indian seemed to be reflectingdeeply: his nostrils were dilated, and at times his black eye flashedfire. The hunters calmly awaited the issue of this conversation, whoseobject they had not yet caught. At length Unicorn raised his head,restored all the serenity to his glance, and said in a soft andmelodious voice,--

  "Why pretend not to understand me, Koutonepi? A warrior must not have aforked tongue. What a man cannot do alone, two can attempt and carryout. Let my brother speak: the ears of a friend are open."

  "My brother is right. I will not deceive his expectations. The hunt Iwish to make is serious. I am anxious to save a woman of my colour; butwhat can the will of one man effect?"

  "Koutonepi is not alone: I see at his side the best two rifles of thefrontier. What does the white hunter tell me? Is he no longer the greatwarrior I knew? Does he doubt the friendship of his brother Haboutzelze,the great sachem of the Comanches?"

  "I never doubted the friendship of my brother. I am an adopted son ofhis nation. At this very moment is he not seeking to do me a service?"

  "That service is only half what I wish to do. Let my brother speak theword, and two hundred Comanche warriors shall join him to deliver thevirgin of the palefaces, and take the scalps of her ravishers."

  Valentine started with joy at this noble offer.

  "Thanks, chief," he said eagerly. "I accept; and I know that your wordis sacred."

  "Michabou protects us," the Indian said. "My brother can count on me. Achief does not forget a service. I owe obligations to the pale hunter,and will deliver to him the gachupino robbers."

  "Here is my hand, chief: my heart has long been yours."

  "My brother speaks well. I have done what he requested of me."

  And, bowing courteously, the Comanche chief withdrew without adding aword.

  "Don Pablo," Valentine exclaimed joyously, "I can now guarantee yourfather's safety: this night--perhaps tomorrow--he will be free."

  The young man fell into the hunter's arms, and hid his head on hishonest chest, not having the strength to utter a word. A few minuteslater, the hunters left the clearing to go in search of the gambusinos,and prepare their ambuscade.