Les trappeurs de l'Arkansas. English

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER XV.

  THE PARDON.

  The interview between the general and his niece was most touching.

  The old soldier, so roughly treated for some time past, was delighted topress to his bosom the innocent child who constituted his whole family,and who, by a miracle, had escaped the misfortunes that had assailed her.

  For a long time they forgot themselves in a delightful interchange ofideas; the general anxiously inquiring how she had lived while he was aprisoner--the young girl questioning him upon the perils he had run,and the ill-treatment he had suffered.

  "Now, uncle," she said at length, "what is your intention?"

  "Alas! my child," he replied, in a tone of sadness, and stifling a sigh;"we must without delay leave these terrible countries, and return toMexico."

  The heart of the young girl throbbed painfully, although she inwardlyconfessed the necessity for a prompt return. To leave the prairieswould be to leave him she loved--to separate herself, without hope ofa reunion, from a man whose admirable character every minute passed insweet intercourse had made her more duly appreciate, and who had nowbecome indispensable to her life and her happiness.

  "What ails thee, my child? You are sad, and your eyes are full oftears," her uncle asked, pressing her hand affectionately.

  "Alas! dear uncle," she replied, in a plaintive tone; "how can I beotherwise than sad after all that has happened within the last few days?My heart is oppressed."

  "That is true. The frightful events of which we have been the witnessesand the victims are more than enough to make you sad; but you are stillvery young, my child. In a short time these events will only remain inyour thoughts as the remembrance of facts which, thanks to Heaven! youwill not have to dread in future."

  "Then shall we depart soon?"

  "Tomorrow, if possible. What should I do here now? Heaven itselfdeclares against me, since it obliges me to renounce this expedition,the success of which would have made the happiness of my old age; butGod is not willing that I should be consoled. His will be done!" headded, in a tone of resignation.

  "What do you mean, dear uncle?" the maiden asked, eagerly.

  "Nothing that can interest you at present, my child. You had better,therefore, be ignorant of it, and that I should suffer alone. I am old.I am accustomed to sorrow," he said, with a melancholy smile.

  "My poor uncle!"

  "Thank you for the kindness you evince, my child; but let us quit thissubject that saddens you; let us speak a little, if you please, of theworthy people to whom we owe so many obligations."

  "Of Loyal Heart?" Dona Luz murmured, with a blush.

  "Yes," the general replied. "Loyal Heart and his mother; the excellentwoman whom I have not yet been able to thank, on account of the woundof poor Belhumeur, and to whom it is due, you say, that you have notsuffered any privations."

  "She has had all the cares of a tender mother for me!"

  "How can I ever acquit myself towards her and her noble son? She isblessed in having such a child! Alas! that comfort is not given to me--Iam alone!" the general said, letting his head sink into his hands.

  "And I?" said the maiden, in a faint voice.

  "Oh! you?" he replied, embracing her tenderly; "you are my beloveddaughter, but I have no son!"

  "That is true!" she murmured, thoughtfully.

  "Loyal Heart," the general continued, "is of too proud a nature toaccept anything of me. What am I to do? how acquit myself towards him?how acknowledge, as I ought, the immense services he has rendered me?"

  There was a moment of silence.

  Dona Luz inclined towards the general, and kissing his brow, she said tohim in a low tremulous voice, concealing her face upon his shoulder:

  "Uncle, I have an idea."

  "Speak, my darling," he replied, "speak without fear; it is, perhaps,God who inspires you."

  "You have no son to whom you can bequeath your name and your immensefortune, have you, uncle?"

  "Alas! I thought for a time, I might recover one, but that hope hasvanished for ever; you know, child, I am alone."

  "Neither Loyal Heart nor his mother would accept anything from you."

  "That I believe."

  "And yet, I think there is a way of obliging them, of forcing them even."

  "What is it?" he said, eagerly.

  "Dear uncle, since you regret so much not having a son to whom youcould, after you, leave your name, why not adopt Loyal Heart?"

  The general looked at her, she was covered with blushes, and tremblinglike a leaf.

  "Oh! darling!" he said, embracing her, "your idea is a charming one,but it is impracticable. I should be happy and proud to have a son likeLoyal Heart. You yourself have told me how his mother adores him; shemust be jealous of his love, she will never consent to share it with astranger."

  "Perhaps she might!" the young girl murmured.

  "And then," the general added, "if even, which is impossible, his motherthrough love of him, in order to give him a rank in society, shouldaccept my offer, mothers being capable of the noblest sacrifices tosecure the happiness of their children, he himself would refuse. Can youbelieve, dearest, that this man, brought up in the desert, whose wholelife has been passed among unexpected, exciting scenes, in face of asublime nature, would consent, for the sake of a little gold which hedespises, and a name that is useless to him, to renounce that gloriouslife of adventures so full of pleasant and terrible emotions, which hasbecome necessary to him? Oh, no! he would be stifled in our cities;to an exalted organization like his our civilization would be mortal.Forget this idea, my dear daughter. Alas! I feel convinced he wouldrefuse."

  "Who knows?" she said, shaking her head.

  "God is my witness," the general resumed, earnestly, "that I should bemost happy to succeed; all my wishes would be fulfilled. But why shouldI flatter myself with wild chimeras? He will refuse, I tell you! And Iam forced to confess he would be right in doing so!"

  "Well, but try, uncle!" she said, coaxingly; "if your proposal berepulsed, you will at least have proved to Loyal Heart that you are notungrateful, and that you have known how to appreciate him at his justvalue."

  "Do you wish it?" said the general, who asked no better than to beconvinced.

  "I _do_ wish it, uncle," she answered, embracing him to conceal herjoy and her blushes. "I do not know why, but it appears to me you willsucceed."

  "Well, so be it, then," the general murmured, with a melancholy smile."Request Loyal Heart and his mother to come to me."

  "In five minutes they shall be here!" she cried, radiant with joy.

  And, bounding like a gazelle, the young girl disappeared, running alongthe windings of the grotto.

  As soon as he was alone, the general hung down his pensive head, andfell into melancholy and deep reflections.

  A few minutes later, Loyal Heart and his mother, brought by Dona Luz,were before him.

  The general raised his head, bowed with courtesy as they entered, andwith a sign desired his niece to retire.

  The young girl complied in great agitation.

  There only prevailed in this part of the grotto a faint light, whichdid not allow objects to be seen distinctly; by a strange caprice, themother of Loyal Heart had put on her rebozo in such a manner that italmost entirely covered her face; so that, notwithstanding the attentionwith which the general looked at her, he could not succeed in discerningher features.

  "You have sent for us, general," Loyal Heart said, cheerfully, "and, asyou see, we have hastened to comply with your desire."

  "Thank you for your prompt attention, my friend," the general replied."In the first place, receive the expression of my gratitude for theimportant services you have rendered me. What I say to you, my friend--Ientreat you to permit me to give you that title--is addressed likewiseto your good and excellent mother, for the tender care she has bestowedon my niece."

  "General," the hunter replied, with emotion, "I thank you for these kindwords, which amply repay me for what you think you ow
e me. In comingto your aid, I only accomplished a vow I have made never to leave myneighbour without help. Believe me I desire no other recompense but youresteem, and I am overpaid for the little I have done by the satisfactionI at this moment experience."

  "I should wish, notwithstanding, permit me to repeat--I should wishnotwithstanding to reward you in another fashion."

  "Reward me!" the fiery young man cried, colouring deeply, and drawingback.

  "Allow me to finish," the general resumed, warmly; "if the proposition Iwish to submit to you displeases you, well then you can answer me, andanswer me as frankly as I am about to explain myself."

  "Speak, general, I will listen to you attentively."

  "My friend, my journey into the prairies had a sacred object, whichI have not been able to attain; you know the reason why--the men whofollowed me have died at my side. Left almost alone, I find myselfforced to renounce a search which, if it had been crowned with success,would have constituted the happiness of the few years I have yet tolive. God is chastising me severely. I have seen all my children diearound me; one alone would, perhaps, still be left to me, but him, in amoment of senseless pride, I drove from my presence. Now, in the declineof life, my house is empty, my hearth, is solitary. I am alone, alas!without relations, without friends, without an heir to whom I couldbequeath not my fortune, but my name, which a long line of ancestorshave transmitted to me without stain. Will you replace for me the familyI have lost? answer me, Loyal Heart, will you be to me a son?"

  Whilst pronouncing these words, the general rose from his seat, seizedthe hand of the young man and pressed it warmly, his eyes filled withtears.

  At this unexpected offer the hunter stood astonished, breathless, andnot knowing what to reply.

  His mother suddenly threw back her rebozo, and displaying hercountenance glowing and transfigured, so to speak, with intense joy,stepped between the two men, placed her hand upon the shoulder of thegeneral, looked at him earnestly, and in a voice rendered tremulous byemotion, exclaimed--

  "At length, Don Ramon de Garillas, you recall that son whom twenty yearsago you so cruelly abandoned!"

  "Woman! what do you mean?" the general asked, in a broken voice.

  "I mean, Don Ramon," she replied, with an air of supreme majesty, "thatI am Dona Jesuita, your wife, and that Loyal Heart is your son Rafael,whom you cursed."

  "Oh!" the general cried, falling on his knees, and with his face bathedin tears, "pardon, pardon, my son!"

  "My father!" Loyal Heart cried, springing towards him, and endeavouringto raise him up; "what are you doing?"

  "My son," said the old man, almost wild with grief and joy, "I will notquit this posture till I have obtained your pardon."

  "Arise, arise, Don Ramon!" said Dona Jesuita, in an affectionate tone;"it is long since the hearts of the mother and the son have feltanything for you but love and respect."

  "Oh!" cried the old man, embracing them closely by turns; "this is toomuch happiness--I do not deserve to be so happy after my cruel conduct."

  "Father," the young man replied, nobly, "it is owing to the meritedchastisement you inflicted upon me that I have become an honest man;forget the past, then, which is now nothing but a dream, think only ofthe future, which smiles upon you."

  At this moment Dona Luz appeared, blushing and timid.

  As soon as he perceived her, the general sprang towards her, took her bythe hand, and led her to Dona Jesuita, whose arms were opened to receiveher.

  "My niece!" he said, with a face radiant with joy, "you may love LoyalHeart without fear, for he is really my son. God, in his infinitegoodness has permitted that I should find him again at the moment whenI despaired of such happiness!"

  The young girl uttered a cry of joy, and concealed her blushing face inthe bosom of Dona Jesuita, abandoning her hand to Rafael, who covered itwith kisses, while he fell at her feet.

  EPILOGUE.

  It was a few months after the expedition of the Count de RaoussetBoulbon.

  At that period the name of Frenchmen stood high in Sonora.

  All travellers of that nation whom chance brought into that part ofAmerica were certain, no matter where they stopped, to meet with a mostkind and sympathetic welcome.

  Urged on by my vagabond humour, without any other object but that ofseeing fresh countries, I had quitted Mexico.

  Mounted upon an excellent mustang, which a friend of mine, wood ranger,had lassoed and made me a present of I had traversed the whole Americancontinent; that is to say, I had made, by short journeys and alwaysalone, according to my custom, a ramble of some hundreds of leagues,crossing mountains covered with snow, immense deserts, rapid rivers,and impetuous torrents, simply as an amateur, in order to visit theSpanish cities which rise along the coast of the Pacific Ocean.

  I had been travelling for fifty-seven days as a mere wanderer, stoppingwherever caprice invited me to pitch my tent.

  I was, however, approaching the object I had determined on, and Ifound myself within a few leagues of Hermosillo, that city which,surrounded by walls, possessing a population of fifteen thousand souls,and defended by eleven hundred regular troops commanded by GeneralBravo, one of the best and most courageous officers of Mexico, had beenaudaciously attacked by the Count de Raousset, at the head of lessthan two hundred and fifty Frenchmen, and carried, at the point of thebayonet, in two hours.

  The sun had set, and the darkness became greater every second. My poorhorse, fatigued with a journey of more than fifteen leagues, and whichI had overridden some days before in my endeavours to arrive at Guaymassooner, advanced with great difficulty, stumbling at every step over thesharp stones of the route.

  I was myself excessively fatigued and was dying with hunger, so that Icontemplated with very pitiable feelings the prospect of passing stillanother night under the starry canopy of heaven.

  I dread losing my way in the darkness; my eyes in vain scanned thehorizon for a light that might guide me towards a habitation. I knewthat several haciendas (farms) were to be met within the neighbourhoodof the city of Hermosillo.

  Like all men who have for a long time led a wandering life, during whichthey have been incessantly the sport of events more or less contrary, Iam endowed with a good stock of philosophy, an indispensable thing whenone is travelling, particularly in America, where, for the most part,one is left to one's own industry without having the resource of beingable to reckon upon any foreign aid.

  I made up my mind, like a brave traveller, renouncing with a sigh ofregret the hope of supper and shelter. As the night grew darker anddarker, and as it was useless to ride where I could not see, perhapsin a direction diametrically opposite to the one I ought to follow, Ilooked about me for a suitable place to establish my bivouac, light afire, and find a little grass for my nag, which, as well as myself, wasdying with hunger.

  This was not an easy matter in these countries calcined by a devouringsun, and covered with a sand as fine as dust. I, however, after a longsearch, discovered a miserable tree, in the shade of which a very scantyvegetation had sprung up.

  I was about to dismount, when my ear was struck with the distant soundof the steps of a horse, which appeared to be following the same routeas myself, and which advanced rapidly.

  I remained motionless.

  Meeting with a horseman at night in the Mexican plains always suggestsample matter for reflection.

  The stranger we meet with may be an honest man, but it would be a saferwager to lay that he is a rogue.

  In this state of doubt, I cocked my revolver, and waited.

  My waiting was not long.

  At the end of five minutes the horseman came up to me.

  "_Buenas noches, caballero_," (Good evening, sir,) said he, as he passed.

  There was something so frank in the tone in which this salute was, as itwere, thrown at me, that my suspicions vanished instantly.

  I replied.

  "Where are you going so late?" he said.

  "In good faith," I replied, ingenuou
sly, "I should be quite delightedif I knew myself; I think I have lost my way, and, in that doubt, I waspreparing to pass the night under this tree."

  "A poor bed that!" said the horseman, shaking his head.

  "Yes," I remarked philosophically; "but for want of a better I mustcontent myself with it. I am dying with hunger, my horse is knockedup, and we do not either of us care to wander further in search ofproblematic hospitality, particularly at this hour of the night."

  "Hum!" said the stranger, casting a glance at my mustang, who, with hishead lowered, was endeavouring to snap a few blades of grass, "yourhorse appears to be well bred; do you think he is so much fatigued thathe could not manage to go a couple of miles, at most?"

  "Oh! he would go for two hours if necessary," I said, with a smile.

  "Follow me, then, in God's name," the stranger answered, in a jovialtone; "I promise you both a good bed and a good supper."

  "Which offer I accept for both with thanks," I said, making my horsefeel the spur.

  The noble beast, which appeared to understand what was going on, fellinto a very fair trot.

  The stranger was, as well as I could judge, a man of about forty, withan open countenance and intelligent features; he wore the costume of theinhabitants of the country, a broad brimmed felt hat, the crown of whichwas encircled by a gold band three fingers broad, a variegated zarapefell from his shoulders to his thighs, and covered the quarters of hishorse, and heavy silver spurs were fastened by straps to his vaqueroboots.

  Like all Mexicans, he had, hanging at his left side, a machete, which isa sort of short and straight sabre, very much like the sword-bayonets ofFrench foot soldiers.

  Conversation soon commenced between us, and was not long in becomingexpansive.

  At the end of about half an hour, I perceived at some distance beforeme, issuing from the darkness, the imposing mass of a large house;it was the hacienda in which my unknown guide had promised me a goodwelcome, a good supper, and a good bed.

  My horse snorted several times, and of its own accord mended its pace.

  I cast a curious glance around me, and could discern the lofty trees ofa huerta well kept up, and every appearance of comfort.

  I inwardly rendered thanks to my good star, which had brought about sofortunate a rencontre.

  At our approach a horseman, placed, no doubt, as a vidette, uttereda loud challenge; while seven or eight rastreros of pure blood, cameyelping with joy, bounding around my guide, and smelling me one afteranother.

  "It is I," my companion replied.

  "Eh! come along, Belhumeur," replied the sentry; "we have been expectingyou more than an hour."

  "Go and inform the master that I bring a traveller with me," criedmy guide, "and be sure not to forget to tell Black Elk that he is aFrenchman."

  "How do you know that?" I asked, a little annoyed, for I piqued myselfupon speaking Spanish with great purity.

  "_Pardi!_" he said laughing, "we are almost compatriots."

  "How so?"

  "_Dame!_ I am a Canadian, you understand, and I soon recognised theaccent."

  During the exchange of these few words, we had arrived at the door ofthe hacienda, where several persons waited to receive us.

  It appeared that the announcement of my quality of Frenchman, made by mycompanion, had produced a certain sensation.

  Ten or twelve domestics held torches, by favour of which I coulddistinguish six or eight persons at least, men and women, coming forwardto welcome us.

  The master of the hacienda, whom I recognized as such at once, advancedtowards me with a lady hanging on his arm, who must have been a greatbeauty, and might yet pass for handsome, although she was near fortyyears of age.

  Her husband was a man of about fifty, of lofty stature, and endowed witha marked, manly countenance; around them clung, with staring eyes, fiveor six charming children, who resembled them too strongly not to belongto them.

  A little behind them, half concealed, in the shade, was a lady of aboutseventy and an old gentleman apparently not far from a hundred.

  I took in at a glance the whole of this family, the aspect of which hadsomething patriarchal in it that attracted sympathy and respect.

  "Sir," said the hacendero kindly, seizing the bridle of my horse toassist me to dismount, "Esa casa se de a vm (This house is yours); I canonly thank my friend Belhumeur for having succeeded in bringing you tomy house."

  "I must admit, senor," I said with a smile, "that he had not muchtrouble in doing so, and that I accept with gratitude the offer he wasso kind as to make me."

  "If you will permit it, senor, as it is getting late," the hacenderoreplied, "and particularly as you stand in need of repose, we will go atonce into the eating room; we were on the point of sitting down to tablewhen your arrival was announced."

  "Senor, I thank you a thousand times," I remarked with a bow; "your kindwelcome has made me forget all my fatigue."

  "We can easily recognise French politeness," said the lady, with apleasing smile.

  I offered my arm to the lady of the house, and we proceeded to theeating-room, where, upon an immense table, was served an Homeric repast,the appetizing odour of which reminded me that I had fasted for nearlytwelve hours.

  We took our seats. Forty persons, at least, were assembled round thetable.

  In this hacienda was kept up the patriarchal custom which is now fallinginto desuetude, of allowing the servants to eat with the masters of thehouse.

  All that I saw, all that I heard, charmed me in this abode; it had aperfume of kindness about it which made the heart beat responsively.

  When the sharp edge of appetite was a little blunted, the conversation,which had languished at first, became general.

  "Well! Belhumeur," the grandfather asked my guide, who, seated besideme, was vigorously employing his fork, "have you found the track of thejaguar?"

  "I have not only found one track, general, but I fear the jaguar is notalone, and has a companion."

  "Oh! oh!" said the old man, "are you sure of that?"

  "I may be deceived, general, and yet I don't think I am. Ask LoyalHeart; I had something of a reputation yonder, in the prairies of theWest."

  "Father," said the hacendero, making an affirmative sign, "Belhumeurmust be right, he is too old a hunter to be at fault."

  "Then we must have a battue, to rid ourselves of these dangerousenemies. Is not that your opinion, Don Rafael?"

  "That was my intention, father. I am glad you approve of it. Black Elkis warned, and everything is ready."

  "The hunt may take place as soon as is agreeable, everything is inorder," said an individual of a certain age, seated not far from me.

  The door opened, and a man entered.

  His arrival was saluted with cries of joy. Don Rafael rose eagerly, andwent towards him, followed by his lady.

  I was the more astonished at this welcome, from the newly arrivedguest being nothing but an Indian _bravo_, or independent; he wore thecomplete costume of the warriors of his nation. Thanks to the numeroussojourns I had made among the redskins, I thought that this man mustbelong to one of the numerous tribes of the Comanches.

  "Oh! Eagle Head! Eagle Head!" shouted the children, surrounding him withglee.

  The Indian took them in his arms, one after the other, kissed them,and got rid of them by giving them some of those little toys which theaborigines of America cut with such exquisite taste.

  He then advanced smiling, saluted the numerous company assembled in thehall with perfect ease, and took his place between the master and themistress of the house.

  "We expected you before sunset, chief," said the lady, in a friendlymanner: "it is not right to disappoint your friends."

  "Eagle Head was on the track of the jaguars," said the chief,sententiously; "my daughter must not have cause for fear; the jaguarsare dead."

  "What! have you already killed the jaguars, chief?" said Don Rafael,eagerly.

  "My brother will see. The skins are very handsome; they are in
thecourt."

  "Well, chief," said the old gentleman, holding out his hand to him, "Isee you are determined always to be our Providence."

  "My father speaks well," the chief answered, bowing; "the Master of Lifecounsels him; the family of my father is my family."

  After the repast, I was conducted by Don Rafael to a comfortablebedroom, where I was not long in falling asleep, though my dreams werevery busy with all I had seen and heard during the evening.

  On the morrow my host my hosts would not hear of my leaving them; andI must confess that I did not very strongly insist upon continuingmy journey. Not only was I charmed with the friendly welcome I hadreceived, but still further, a secret curiosity urged me to stay a fewdays longer.

  A week thus passed away.

  Don Rafael and his family overwhelmed me with kindnesses; life passedwith me as if in a continual enchantment.

  I do not know why, but ever since my arrival in the hacienda, all thatI was witness of augmented that curiosity which had seized upon me fromthe first moment.

  It appeared to me that at the bottom of the happiness which I sawbeaming in every face of this united family, there had been a long trainof misfortunes.

  They were not, as I believed, people whose lives had flowed on calmlyand tranquilly; I imagined, though I scarcely know why, that after beinga long time tossed about upon the ocean of some trouble, they had atlength found a port.

  Their countenances were impressed with that majesty which great sorrowsalone can give, and the wrinkles which furrowed their brows appeared tome too deep to have been traced by anything but grief.

  This idea was so strongly impressed upon my brain that, in spite of allmy efforts to drive it away, it incessantly returned, more tenaciouslyand more incisively.

  In a few days, I had become the friend of the family nothing regardingmyself was unknown to them; they had admitted me to the closestintimacy. In this state, I had constantly one question on my lips, butI knew not how to shape it, so much did I fear committing a seriousindiscretion or reviving old causes of grief.

  One evening, as Don Rafael and I were returning from hunting, when wewere within a few steps of the house, he placed his arm in mine.

  "What is the matter with you, Don Gustavio?" he said; "you are dull andpreoccupied; do you begin to be tired of us?"

  "You cannot imagine that," I replied warmly; "on the contrary, I have nowords to express how happy I am with you."

  "Well, remain then," he cried frankly; "there is still plenty of roomfor a friend at our hearth."

  "Thanks," I said, much affected, and pressing his hand; "I would that itcould be so; but, alas! it is impossible. Like the Jew of the legend,I have within me a demon which, incessantly cries 'Move on!' I mustaccomplish my destiny."

  And I sighed.

  "Now, come," he resumed, "be frank! tell me what it is that occupiesyour thoughts; for several days past you have made us all veryuncomfortable; nobody has dared to question you about it," he added,with a smile; "but I have taken my courage with both hands, as youFrenchmen say, and made up my mind to ask you."

  "Well!" I replied, "as you desire it, I will tell you; but I entreat younot to take my frankness ill, and to be assured that there is at leastas much interest as curiosity in the matter."

  "Well, then," he said, with an indulgent smile, "confess yourself to me;don't be afraid, I will give you absolution--go on!"

  "I really should like to make 'a clean breast of it,' and tell youeverything."

  "That is the way,--speak."

  "I have formed an idea, although I do not know why, that you have notalways been as happy as you are now, and that it has been by longmisfortunes that you have purchased the blessings you at present enjoy."

  A melancholy smile passed over his lips.

  "Pardon me!" I cried eagerly; "pardon the indiscretion I have committed!What I feared has come to pass! Let there be no more question betweenus, I conjure you, of my silly fancy!"

  I was really very much hurt at reflecting on my impertinence.

  Don Rafael replied to me with kindness.

  "Why not?" he said; "I see nothing indiscreet in your question; itarises solely from the interest you have conceived for us: it is onlywhen we love people that we become so clear-sighted. No, my friend, youare not wrong, we have all undergone a rude trial. Since you desire it,you shall know all; and perhaps you will confess, after having heard therecital of what we have suffered, that we have indeed purchased dearlythe happiness we enjoy. But let us go in; they are probably waiting forus to sit down to table."

  That evening Don Rafael retained several members of the family roundhim, and, after having ordered cigarettes and some wine to be placedupon the table, he said,--

  "My friend, I am about to satisfy your excusable curiosity. Belhumeur,Black Elk, and Eagle Head, my father and mother, as well as my dearwife, who have all been actors in the drama of which you are going tohear the strange recital, will come to my assistance if my memory failsme."

  Then, reader, Don Rafael related to me what you have just read.

  I must confess that these adventures, told by the man who had playedthe principal character, and before those who had so great a share inthem,--I confess, I say, that these adventures interested me to thehighest degree, which cannot be expected to be the case with you; they,necessarily, lose much coming from my mouth, for I cannot impart to themthat animation which constituted their principal charm.

  A week afterwards I left my amiable hosts, but instead of embarking atGuaymas, as I had at first intended, I set out with Eagle Head on anexcursion into Apacheria, an excursion during which chance made me thewitness of extraordinary scenes, which I will, perhaps, relate to yousome day, if these you have now read have not been too wearisome to you.

  THE END.