CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE DEPARTURE.
On the day after the battle, at sunrise, there was a busy scene in theComanche village. The criers or hachestos mounted on the piles of ruins,summoned the warriors, who arrived one after the other, still fatiguedby the dances and combats of the previous night. The war whistles, theshells, the drums and chichikouis, made an infernal disturbance, andhence the entire population was speedily assembled.
Unicorn was a chief of great prudence. Being on the point of undertakingan expedition which might separate him for a long time from his friends,he did not wish to leave the women and children exposed defencelessly toan attack like that of the previous evening. As the season was advanced,he resolved to abandon the village definitively, and escort those whowere not selected to accompany him, to the winter village of the nation,situated at no great distance off, in a virgin forest, and in animpregnable position.
The appearance of the village was most picturesque; the warriors,painted and armed for war, formed two companies of one hundred men each,collected on the square, having on each flank a squadron of twenty-fivehorsemen. Between the two detachments the women, children, and old menplaced themselves, with the dogs fastened to the sledges, which bore alltheir valuable property, such as furniture, furs, &c.
Unicorn, surrounded by his staff, composed of the subordinate chiefs ofthe tribe, held in his hands the totem, and gave his orders with a wordor a gesture, which were immediately executed with an intelligence anddexterity that would have done honour to the most civilised nation.
Valentine was also on the public square, with his comrades andprisoners. The two maidens, calm and smiling, were side by side,conversing together, while Curumilla was holding his head down, andfrowning.
Bloodson had gone off at daybreak, with his band, to try and surprise,in his turn, the Apache village, which was no great distance off. It wasa strange fact, but the hunters and Mexicans felt an extraordinarypleasure at the departure of this man, who had, however, rendered theman immense service. Certainly, it would have been impossible for them toexplain this feeling, which all experienced. Still, when he was nolonger among them, their chests expanded, and they breathed with greaterease; in a word, it seemed as if an immense weight had been suddenlyremoved.
And yet, we repeat, the hunters and Mexicans had only terms of praise inwhich to allude to this man's treatment of them. Whence came thisinstinctive repulsion with which he inspired them?--the truth was, thatBloodson had something about him which caused those to whom accidentbrought into contact with him to feel disgust mingled with fear.
A great noise was suddenly heard in the square, and two or three Indianscame up to speak to the chief. Unicorn uttered an exclamation of angerand feigned the greatest disappointment.
"What is the matter, chief?" Valentine asked, with the most indifferentair he could assume.
"Our most valuable Apache prisoner," Unicorn said, "has found means toescape, I do not know how."
"That is a misfortune," Valentine said: "still, it may not beirreparable."
"How so?"
"Who knows? Perhaps he may have escaped very recently; if you were tosend couriers in every direction, it is possible that he may berecaptured. Besides, if that measure did not produce the anticipatedresult," he added, as he gave the young Spaniard a cold and sternglance, which made her start, "it would, at any rate, tell us what hasbecome of our Apache enemies, and if they have not left round thevillage spies ordered to watch our movements."
The sachem smiled at this proposal; he made a sign, and a dozen horsemengalloped out in the plain. While awaiting the return of the scouts, thefinal preparations for departure were made.
After overhearing the conversation between the Gazelle and the Pirates,Curumilla repeated it to Valentine. The latter thanked him, and beggedhim to watch the movements of the girl and Pedro Sandoval. The adviceValentine gave the chief, and which he readily followed was intended tounmask the Apaches, compel them to retire, and hence deprive the Pirateof the assistance he expected in effecting his escape.
In fact the Apaches on seeing their enemies spread all over the plain,not knowing their intentions, but fearing lest they should be surprisedby them, fell back, and that so rapidly, that the scouts returned to thevillage without seeing anything, after a two hours' ride.
On the report they delivered of all being quiet in the neighbourhood andthe road quite clear, Unicorn gave the signal for departure: the immensecaravan slowly set out to the sound of musical instruments, mingled withthe yells of the warriors and the barking of the dogs. Valentine, forgreater security, placed the two females at the head of the column, inthe group of horsemen formed by the subordinate chiefs.
The day had opened with a pure sky and dazzling sun; the atmosphere,perfumed by the exhalations from the prairie flowers, pleasantly dilatedthe lungs, and caused the hunters to feel in the highest spirits. Thecaravan was unfolded like an immense serpent on the prairie, advancingin good order through an enchanting landscape.
The hunters were crossing at this moment the spot called the Bad Lands,a continuation of the Black Coast, which the Gila intersects. Theprairie extended along the river, then gradually ascended in rollerstoward the mountains, and was covered with blocks of greyish-browngranite, displaying various strata. All around rose a marvellous chainof tall greyish and barren mountains, with extraordinarily shapedsummits, and spotted with dark patches of conifera.
The Rio Gila, which was rather narrow found its way with difficultythrough the lofty crests of schist, granite, and clay, and the nude anddead scenery that surrounded it was but slightly animated on the banksby the poplars and pine bushes that bordered it.
To the right was a village of prairie dogs: these pretty little animals,which are not at all savage, were seated on the flattened roofs of theirhouse, watching the caravan, as they shook their tails rapidly anduttered their shrill cry, which is not a perfect bark; then theydisappeared in the ground.
The caravan rapidly advanced toward a virgin forest, whose gloomy spursstretched out nearly to the river's bank, and which they reached aftertwo hours' march. On reaching the first trees, the caravan halted for awhile, in order to make the final arrangements, before burying itselfbeneath the gloomy dome which would serve as its shelter for severalmonths.
Before leaving his friends, the white hunters, the Comanche Chief hadthe neighbourhood beaten up, but no trail was visible; the Apaches seemedto have definitely declined further fighting, and gone off. In fact, itwould have been signal folly for them to try and attack the Comanches,thrice as strong as themselves, rendered haughty by their last victory,and who, before entering the forest, would have liked nothing betterthan to have a parting fight with their implacable enemies. But nothingdisturbed the calmness of the prairie.
"My brother can continue his journey," Unicorn said to Valentine; "theApache dogs have fled with the feet of antelopes."
"Oh, we do not fear them," the hunter replied, disdainfully.
"Before the eighth sun, my brother will see me again," the chiefcontinued.
"Good."
"Farewell."
And they separated. The Comanche warriors entered the forest; for awhile the sound of their footsteps and the tinkling of the bellsfastened to their dogs' necks re-echoed under the gloomy arcades of theforest; then silence was gradually re-established, and the hunters foundthemselves alone. They were six resolute and well-armed men, who fearedno danger; they could continue their journey in perfect safety.
"Are we still far from the island where Red Cedar's band is encamped?"Valentine asked the Sachem of the Coras.
"Scarce four leagues," Eagle-wing answered. "Were it not for thecountless turnings we shall have to take, we should reach it in an hour;but we shall not arrive till the last song of the _maukawis_."
"Good; you and Don Pablo will go on ahead with the squarer's daughter."
"Do you fear anything?" Don Pablo asked.
"Nothing; but I wish to speak a few minutes with the S
panish girl."
"All right."
The two men pushed on with the maiden, and Valentine took his place onthe right of the Gazelle, who was riding thoughtfully, without payingany attention to her horse.
The revelations made by Curumilla had the more struck Valentine, becausehe did not at all comprehend the Gazelle's hatred of Ellen. Everyfeeling must have its reason, every hatred a cause; and both theseescaped him. In vain did he seek in his memory a fact which mightaccount for, if not excuse, the strange conduct of White Gazelle; hefound nothing that would put him on the right track.
He recalled to mind that he had seen the girl several times in thevicinity of Don Miguel de Zarate's hacienda, at the Paso del Norte; healso remembered that Don Pablo had done her a slight service, when shecraved his help, but her relations with the hacendero's son hadterminated there.
He believed it certain that, although Red Cedar's daughter lived nearthe hacienda, the Gazelle had never seen her before they met at theIndian village. Still, as he knew Don Pablo's love for Ellen, a love ofwhich the young man had never spoken to him, but which he had long seen;as, too, the position was grave, and Ellen might at any moment fallinto danger, which must be avoided at any cost, Valentine resolved tohave a conversation with the Spanish girl, and try to read clearly inher heart, were that possible.
But if gentle means failed, he would show her no indulgence, or let agentle and unoffending creature be exposed to the perfidy of a cruelwoman, whom no consideration seemed to arrest in her sinister plans.
Valentine looked round. Ellen was about two hundred yards ahead, betweenEagle-wing and Don Pablo. Temporarily reassured, he turned to theSpanish girl, who at this moment was talking eagerly, and in a loudvoice, with Pedro Sandoval. The girl blushed, and ceased speaking.Valentine, not appearing to notice the confusion his presence caused thespeakers, bowed slightly to the Spaniard, and addressed her in a calmvoice:--
"I beg your pardon," he said, "if I interrupt a doubtless interestingconversation; but I wish to have a few words with you."
The girl blushed still more deeply. Her black eye flashed fire under thelong lash that veiled it, but she answered in a trembling voice, as shestopped her horse--
"I am ready to listen to you, senor caballero."
"Do not stop, I beg, senora," Valentine said. "This worthy man, whodoubtless shares all your secrets," he added, with an ironical smile,"can hear our conversation, which, indeed, will relate to him."
"In truth," the girl answered, in a firmer voice, as she let her horseproceed, "I have nothing hidden from this worthy man, as you do him thehonour of calling him."
"Very good, senora," the hunter continued with equal coldness. "Now, begood enough not to take in ill part what I am about to say to you, andanswer a question I shall take the liberty of asking you."
"I presume you intend me to undergo an interrogation?"
"That is not my intention, at least at this moment; it will depend onyou, madam, that we do not pass the limits of a friendly conversation."
"Speak, sir. If the question you ask me is one of those a woman mayanswer, I will satisfy you."
"Be good enough to tell me, madam, whether you found us cruel enemieslast night?"
"Why this question?"
"Be so kind as to answer it first."
"I can only speak in terms of praise of your conduct."
"I thank you. And how did Miss Ellen treat you?"
"Admirably."
"Good. You are not ignorant, I think, that through your yesterday'saggression, an aggression which may be regarded as attempted murder androbbery, since, as you are not at war with the Indians, and as,belonging to our race, should regard us as friends--you are notignorant, I say, that you have rendered yourself amenable to the prairielaw, which says, 'an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.'"
"What do you wish to arrive at?"
"Pardon me. You are not ignorant, I assume, that, instead of treatingyou as I did, with the most perfect respect, I should have been quitejustified in passing a rope round your neck, and hanging you, with yourworthy friend, to the branches of the first tree: and there are somemagnificent specimens in these parts!"
"Sir!" the girl exclaimed, as she drew herself up, and became livid withfury.
"Pardon me," Valentine continued impressively. "I am alluding here to anincontestable right, which you cannot deny: do not get in a passion, butanswer me categorically, yes, or no."
"Well, sir, yes; you had that right, and you still have it. What checksyou? Why do you not use it?" she added, as she gave him a defiant look.
"Because it does not suit me to do so at this moment," Valentine said,coldly and drily.
These stern words suddenly checked the passion that was boiling in thegirl's heart: she let her eyes fall, and replied:--
"Is that all you have to say to me?"
"No, it is not all; and I have a final question to ask you."
"Speak, sir, as I am condemned to listen to you."
"I will not occupy much of your time."
"Oh, sir," she answered ironically, "my time cannot be employed betterthan in conversing with so polished a gentleman as yourself."
"I thank you for the good opinion you are kind enough to have of a poorhunter like myself," he replied, with a tinge of sarcasm; "and I nowreach the second question I wished to ask you."
"In truth, it seems, sir, that like the _juces de letras_, youraccomplices," she added bitterly, "you have classified in your head thequestions that compose my examination: for, in spite of what you did methe honour of telling me, I persist in seeing only an examination in whatit pleases you to call our conversation."
"As you please, madam," Valentine replied with imperturbable coolness."Will you explain to me how it is, that, after having been treated,according to your own statement, by us so kindly, you laid aside allgratitude and feelings of honour last night, to join two villains in aplot for carrying off a girl to whom you owe your life, and handing herover as a slave to the most ferocious Indians on the prairies--theSioux?"
The Pirates of the Prairies: Adventures in the American Desert Page 28