Les trappeurs de l'Arkansas. English

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER II.

  THE PIRATES.

  It was evening, at a distance nearly equal from the camp of theMexicans, and that of the Comanches.

  Concealed in a ravine, deeply enclosed between two hills, about fortymen were assembled around several fires, dispersed in such a manner thatthe light of the flames could not betray their presence.

  The strange appearance offered by this assemblage of adventurers, withgloomy features, ferocious glances, and strange and mean attire, offereda feature worthy of the crayon of Callot, or the pencil of Salvator Rosa.

  These men, a heterogeneous mixture of all the nationalities that peoplethe two worlds, from Russia to China, were the most complete collectionof scoundrels that can be imagined; thorough food for the gallows,without faith or law, fire or home, the true outcasts of society, whichhad rejected them from its bosom, obliged to seek a refuge in the depthsof the prairies of the west; even in these deserts they formed a bandapart, fighting sometimes against the hunters, sometimes against theIndians, excelling both in cruelty and roguery.

  These men were, in a word, what people have agreed to call, the piratesof the prairies.

  A denomination which suits them in every way, since, like theirbrothers of the ocean, hoisting all colours, or rather tramping themall underfoot, they fall upon every traveller who ventures to cross theprairies alone, attack and plunder caravans, and when all other preyescapes them, they hide themselves traitorously in the high grass toentrap the Indians, whom they assassinate in order to gain the premiumwhich the paternal government of the United States gives for everyaboriginal scalp, as in France they pay for the head of a wolf.

  This troop was commanded by Captain Waktehno, whom we have already hadoccasion to bring on the scene.

  There prevailed at this moment among these bandits an agitation thatpresaged some mysterious expedition.

  Some were cleaning and loading their arms, others mending their clothes;some were smoking and drinking mezcal, others were asleep, folded intheir ragged cloaks.

  The horses, all saddled and ready for mounting, were fastened to pickets.

  At stated distances, sentinels, leaning on their long rifles, silent andmotionless as statues of bronze, watched over the safety of all.

  The dying flashes of the fires, which were expiring by degrees, threwa reddish reflection upon this picture that gave the pirates a stillfiercer aspect.

  The captain appeared a prey to extreme anxiety; he walked with longstrides among his subordinates, stamping his foot with anger, andstopping at intervals to listen to the sound of the prairies.

  The night became darker and darker, the moon had disappeared, the windmoaned hoarsely among the hills, and the pirates had eventually fallenasleep one after another.

  The captain alone still watched.

  All at once he fancied that he heard at a distance the report offirearms, then a second, and all again was silent.

  "What does this mean?" the captain murmured, angrily; "have my rascalsallowed themselves to be surprised?"

  Then, folding himself carefully in his cloak, he hastily directed hiscourse to the side whence the reports appeared to come.

  The darkness was intense; and, notwithstanding his knowledge of thecountry, the captain could only advance with difficulty throughbrambles, thistles, and briars, which, at every step, impeded hisprogress. He was several times obliged to stop and look about him to besure of his route, from which the turnings and windings necessitated byblocks of rock and thickets, continually diverted him.

  During one of these halts, he fancied he could perceive, at a smalldistance from him, the rustling of leaves and boughs, like that which isproduced by the passage of a man or a wild beast through underwood.

  The captain concealed himself behind the trunk of a gigantic acajou,drew his pistols, and cocked them, in order to be prepared for whatevermight happen; then, bending his head forward, he listened.

  All was calm around him; it was that mysterious time of night whenNature seems to sleep, and when all the nameless sounds of the solitudeare quieted down, so that, as the Indians express it, nothing is to beheard but silence.

  "I must have been deceived," the pirate muttered; and he began toretrace his steps. But, at that moment, the noise was repeated, nearerand more distinctly, and was immediately followed by a stifled groan.

  "The devil!" said the captain; "this begins to be interesting: I mustclear this up."

  After a hasty movement forward of a few steps, he saw, gliding along,at a short distance from him, the scarcely distinguishable shadow of aman. This person, whoever he was, seemed to walk with difficulty; hestaggered at every step, and stopped at intervals, as if to recoverstrength. He frequently allowed a smothered complaint to escape him. Thecaptain sprang forward, to bar his passage. When the unknown perceivedhim, he uttered a cry of terror, and fell on his knees, murmuring in avoice broken by terror--

  "Pardon! pardon! do not kill me!"

  "Why!" exclaimed the astonished captain, "it is the Babbler! Who thedevil has treated him in this fashion?"

  And he bent over him.

  It was indeed the guide.

  He had fainted.

  "Plague stifle the fool!" the captain muttered, with vexation. "What'sthe use of asking him anything now?"

  But the pirate was a man of resources; he replaced his pistols in hisbelt, and raising the wounded man, he threw him over his shoulders.

  Loaded with his burden, which scarcely seemed to lessen his speed, hehastily returned to the camp by the way he had left it.

  He deposited the guide close to a half-extinguished brazier, into whichhe threw an armful of dry wood to revive it. A clear blaze soon enabledhim to examine the man who lay senseless at his feet.

  The features of the Babbler were livid, a cold perspiration stood indrops upon his temples, and the blood flowed in abundance from a woundin his breast.

  "_Cascaras!_" the captain muttered; "here is a poor devil who has gothis business done! I hope before he departs he will, however, tell mewho has done him this favour, and what has become of Kennedy!"

  Like all the wood rangers, the captain possessed a small practicalknowledge of medicine; it was nothing new to him to dress a shot wound.

  Thanks to the attentions he lavished on the bandit, the latter wasnot long in coming to himself. He breathed a heavy sigh, opened hishaggard eyes, but remained for some time unable to speak; after severalfruitless efforts, however, aided by the captain, he succeeded insitting up, and shaking his head repeatedly, he murmured in a low,broken voice:

  "All is lost, captain! Our plan has failed!"

  "A thousand thunders!" the captain cried, stamping his feet with rage."How has this happened?"

  "The girl is a demon!" the guide replied, whose difficult respirationand gradually weaker voice showed that he had but a few minutes to live.

  "If you can manage, anyhow," said the captain, who had understoodnothing by the exclamation of the wounded man, "tell me how things havegone on, and who is your assassin, that I may avenge you."

  A sinister smile painfully crossed the violet lips of the guide.

  "The name of my assassin?" he said, in an ironical tone.

  "Yes."

  "Well, her name is Dona Luz."

  "Dona Luz!" the captain cried, starting with surprise, "impossible!"

  "Listen," the guide resumed; "my moments are numbered; I shall soonbe a dead man. In my position people don't lie. Let me speak withoutinterrupting me. I don't know whether I shall have time to tell you all,before I go to render my account to Him who knows everything."

  "Speak!" said the captain.

  And, as the voice of the wounded man became weaker and weaker, he wentdown upon his knees close to him, in order to lose none of his words.

  The guide closed his eyes, collected himself for a few seconds, andthen, with great effort, said,--

  "Give me some brandy?"

  "You must be mad! brandy will kill you!"

  The wounded man shook
his head.

  "It will give me the necessary strength to enable me to tell you all Ihave to say. Am I not already half dead!"

  "That's true," muttered the captain.

  "Do not hesitate, then," the wounded man replied, who had heard him;"time presses; I have important things to inform you of."

  "If it must be so, it must," said the captain, after a moment'shesitation; and taking his gourd, he applied it to the lips of the guide.

  The latter drank eagerly and copiously; a feverish flush coloured hishollow cheeks, his almost extinguished eyes flashed and gleamed with anunnatural fire.

  "Now," he said, in a firm and pretty loud voice, "do not interrupt me:when you see me become weak, let me drink again. I, perhaps, shall havetime to tell you all."

  The captain made a sign of assent, and the Babbler began.

  His recital was rendered long by the repeated weakness with which he wasseized; when it was terminated, he added,--

  "You see, that this woman is, as I have told you, a demon; she haskilled both Kennedy and me. Renounce the capture of her, captain; she isgame you cannot bring down; you will never get possession of her."

  "Hum!" said the captain, knitting his brows; "do you imagine that I giveup my projects in that fashion?"

  "I wish you luck, then," the guide murmured; "as for me, my business isdone--my account is settled. Adieu, captain!" he added, with a strangesort of smile, "I am going to all the devils--we shall meet againyonder."

  And he sank back.

  The captain endeavoured to raise him again; but he was dead.

  "A good journey to you!" he muttered, carelessly. He took the corpseupon his shoulders, carried it into a thicket, in the middle of which hemade a hole, and placed it in it; then, this operation being achieved ina few minutes, he returned to the fire, wrapped himself in his cloak,stretched himself on the sod, with his feet towards the brazier, andfell asleep, saying,--

  "In a few hours it will be light, and we will than see what we have todo."

  Bandits do not sleep late. At sunrise all were on the alert in the campof the pirates; everyone was preparing for departure.

  The captain, far from renouncing his projects, had, on the contrary,determined to hasten the execution of them, so as not to allow theMexicans time to find among the white trappers of the prairiesauxiliaries who might render success impossible.

  As soon as he was certain that the orders he had issued were understood,the captain gave the signal for departure. The troop set off in theIndian fashion, that is to say, literally turning their backs towardsthe point to which they directed their course. When they arrived at aspot which appeared to present to them the security they desired, thepirates dismounted; the horses were confided to a few determined men,and the rest, crawling along upon the ground like a swarm of vipers, orjumping from branch to branch, and from tree to tree, advanced, with allthe customary precautions, towards the camp of the Mexicans.