The Pirates of the Prairies: Adventures in the American Desert

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE PROPOSITION.

  Red Cedar, immediately that he entered the Far West, had, with theexperience of old wood rangers which he possessed in the highest degree,chosen a suitable site for his band to encamp. He did not wish to enterthe desert without ensuring allies on whom he could count, in the eventof his being attacked.

  The Pawnee ambuscade, prepared with the skill characteristic of thesavages, which had been on the point of succeeding, and from which hehad only escaped by accident, was a warning to him of the snares thatwould be laid for him, and the dangers that would menace him at everystep daring the long journey he was about to undertake across theprairies.

  Red Cedar was one of those men who make it a principle to neglectnothing that can insure the success of their plans; he, therefore,resolved to protect himself from any attack as speedily as possible. Hisfirst care was to choose a spot where he could encamp his band, so as tobe protected from all Indian marauders, and offer an advantageousresistance, in the case of a serious attack.

  The Rio Gila forms a multitude of wooded islets, some of which risingin a conical form, are very difficult of access owing to the escarpmentof their banks, and especially through the rapidity of the current.It was on one of these islands that Red Cedar bivouacked his men.Peru trees, mezquites, and cottonwood trees, which grew abundantly onthis island, mingled with creepers that twined round their stems ininextricable confusion, formed an impenetrable thicket, behind whichthey could boldly sustain a siege, while offering the immense advantageof forming a wall of verdure, through whose openings it was easy towatch both banks of the river, and any suspicious movements on theprairie.

  So soon as the gambusinos had landed on the island, they glided likeserpents into the interior, dragging their horses after them, and beingcareful to do nothing that might reveal their encampment to thesharp-sighted Indians. So soon as the camp was established, and RedCedar believed that, temporarily at least, his band was in safety, heassembled the principal leaders, in order to communicate his intentionsto them.

  They were, first, Fray Ambrosio, then Andres Garote, Harry and Dick, thetwo Canadian hunters, and, lastly, the squatter's two sons, Nathan andSutter, and the Chief of the Coras. Several trees had been felled toform a suitable site for the fires and the tents of the women, and RedCedar, mounted on his steed, was soon in the centre of the chiefscollected around him.

  "Senores," he said to them, "we have at length entered the Far West: ourexpedition now really commences, and I count on your courage, and, aboveall, your experience, to carry it out successfully; but prudence demandsthat on the prairies, where we run the risk of being attacked by enemiesof every description at any moment, we should secure allies who, in caseof need, could protect us efficiently. The ambuscade we escaped, scarceeight and forty hours ago, renders it a duty to redouble our vigilance,and, above all, hasten to enter into communication with the friends wepossess in the desert."

  "Yes," said the monk; "but I do not know these friends."

  "But I know them, and that is enough," Red Cedar replied.

  "Very good," Fray Ambrosio went on; "but where are they to be found?"

  "I know where to find them. You are here in an excellent position, whereyou can hold your own for a long time, without any fear of it beingcarried. This is what I have resolved on."

  "Come, gossip, explain yourself; I am anxious to know your plans," saidthe monk.

  "You shall be satisfied: I am going to start at once in search of myfriends, whom I am certain of finding within a few hours: you will notstir from here till my return."

  "Hum! And will you be long absent?"

  "Two days, then, at the most."

  "That is a long time," Garote remarked.

  "During that period you will conceal your presence as far as possible.Let no one suspect you are encamped here. I will bring you the ten bestrifles in the Far West, and with their protection, and that of Stanapat,the great Apache Chief of the Buffalo tribe, whom I expect to see also,we can traverse the desert in perfect safety."

  "But who will command the band in your absence?" Fray Ambrosio asked.

  "You, and these caballeros. But remember this: you will under no pretextleave the island."

  "'Tis enough, Red Cedar, you can start; we shall not stir till youreturn."

  After a few more words of slight importance, Red Cedar left theclearing, swam his horse over the river, and on reaching firm ground,buried himself in the tall grass, where he soon disappeared.

  It was about six in the evening, when the squatter left his comrades, togo in search of the men whom he hoped to make his allies. The gambusinoshad paid but slight attention to the departure of their chief, the causeof which they were ignorant of, and which they supposed would not lastlong. The night had completely fallen. The gambusinos, wearied by a longjourney, were sleeping, wrapped in their zarapes, round the fire, whiletwo sentries alone watched over the common safety. They were Dick andHarry, the two Canadian hunters, whom chance had so untowardly broughtamong these bandits.

  Three men leaning against the trunk of an enormous ungquito wereconversing in a low voice. They were Andres Garote, Fray Ambrosio, andEagle-wing. A few paces from them was the leafy cabin, beneath whoseprecarious shelter reposed the squatter's wife, her daughter Ellen, andDona Clara.

  The three men, absorbed in the conversation, did not notice a whiteshadow emerge from the cabin, glide silently along, and lean against thevery tree, at the foot of which they were.

  Eagle-wing, with that penetration which distinguishes the Indians, hadread the hatred which existed between Fray Ambrosio and Red Cedar; butthe Coras had kept this discovery in his heart, intending to takeadvantage of it when the opportunity presented itself.

  "Chief," the monk said, "do you suspect who the allies are Red Cedar hasgone to seek?"

  "No," the other replied, "how should I know?"

  "Still it must interest you, for you are not so great a friend of theGringo as you would like to appear."

  "The Indians have a very dense mind; let my father explain himself sothat I may understand him, and be able to answer him."

  "Listen," the monk continued, in a dry voice and with a sharp accent, "Iknow who you are: your disguise, clever and exact though it be, was notsufficient to deceive me: at the first glance I recognised you. Do youbelieve that if I had said to Red Cedar, this man is a spy or a traitor;he has crept among us to make us tall into a trap prepared longbeforehand: in a word, this man is no other than Moukapec, theprincipal Cacique of the Coras? Do you believe, I say, that Red Cedarwould have hesitated to blow out your brains, eh, chief? Answer."

  During these words whose significance was terrible to him, the Coras hadremained unmoved; not a muscle of his face had quivered. When the monkceased speaking, he smiled disdainfully, and contented himself withreplying in a haughty voice, while looking at him fixedly:

  "Why did not my father tell this to the scalp hunter? He was wrong."

  The monk was discountenanced by this reply, which he was far fromexpecting; he understood that he had before him one of those energeticnatures over which threats have no power. Still he had advanced too farto draw back: he resolved to go on to the end, whatever might happen.

  "Perhaps," he said, with an evil smile, "at any rate, I have it in mypower to warn our chief in his return."

  "My father will act as he thinks proper," the chief replied drily,"Moukapec is a renowned warrior, the barking of the coyotes neverterrified him."

  "Come, come, Indian, you are wrong," Garote interposed, "you aremistaken as to the Padre's intentions with respect to you; I amperfectly convinced that he does not wish to injure you in any way."

  "Moukapec is not an old woman who can be cheated with words," the Corassaid; "he cares little for the present intentions of the man, who,during the burning of his village, and the massacre of his brothers,excited his enemies to murder and arson. The chief follows his vengeancealone, he will know how to attain it without allying himself to one ofh
is foes to get it. I have spoken."

  After uttering these words, the Indian chief rose, dressed himself inhis buffalo robe, and withdrew, leaving the two Mexicans disconcerted bythis resistance which they were far from anticipating. Both looked afterhim for a while with admiration mingled with anger.

  "Hum!" the monk at length muttered; "Dog of a savage, Indian, brute,beast, he shall pay me for it."

  "Take care, senor Padre," the Gambusino said, "we are not in luck atthis moment. Let us leave this man with whom we can effect nothing, andseek something else. Every man reaches his point who knows how to wait,and the moment will arrive to avenge ourselves on him; till then, let usdissimulate--that is the best thing, I believe, for us to do."

  "Did you notice that, on leaving us, Red Cedar did not say a syllableabout his prisoner?"

  "For what good? He knows she is in perfect safety here, any flight fromthis island is impossible."

  "That is true; but why did he carry off this woman?"

  "Who knows? Red Cedar is one of those men whose thoughts it is alwaysdangerous to sound. Up to the present, we cannot read his conductclearly enough; let him return, perhaps then the object he has in viewwill be unfolded to us."

  "That woman annoys me here," the monk said in a hollow voice.

  "What's to be done? Down there at Santa Fe I did not hesitate to serveyou in trying to get rid of her; but now it is too late--it would bemadness to dream of it. What matter to us, after all, whether she bewith us, or not? Believe me, make up your mind to it, and speak no moreabout it. Bah! She will not prevent us reaching the placer."

  The monk shook his head with a dissatisfied air, but made no reply. TheGambusino wrapped himself in his zarape, lay down on the ground, andfell asleep. Fray Ambrosio, for his part, remained plunged in gloomythoughts. What was he thinking of? Some treachery, doubtless.

  When the woman who had been leaning against the tree, perceived that theconversation was at an end, she glided softly away, and re-entered thecabin.