The White Chief: A Legend of Northern Mexico

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER FIFTY.

  The monk who presented himself was the same who had figured at thedinner-party. He was the senior of the two that directed the mission,and in every respect the ruler of the establishment. He was known asthe Padre Joaquin, while his junior was the Padre Jorge. The latter wasa late addition to the post, whereas Padre Joaquin had been its directoralmost since the time of its establishment. He was, therefore, an oldresident, and knew the history and character of every settler in thevalley. For some reason or other he held an inveterate dislike to thefamily of the cibolero, to which he had given expression upon theevening of the dinner-party,--although he assigned no cause for hishostility. It could not have been because he regarded them as"hereticos," for, though the Padre Joaquin was loud in his denunciationsof all who were outside the pale of the Church, yet in his own heart hecared but little about such things. His zeal for religion was sheerhypocrisy and worldly cunning. There was no vice practised in thesettlement in which Padre Joaquin did not take a leading part. Anadroit _monte_ player he was--ready to do a little cheating uponoccasions--a capital judge of game "gallos," ever ready to stake hisonzas upon a "main." In addition to these accomplishments, the padreboasted of others. In his cups,--and this was nothing unusual,--he wasin the habit of relating the _liaisons_ and _amourettes_ of his earlierlife, and even some of later date. Although the neophytes of themission were supposed to be all native Tagnos with dark skins, yet therewas to be seen upon the establishment quite a crowd of young_mestizoes_, both boys and girls, who were known as the "sobrinos" and"sobrinas" of Padre Joaquin.

  You cannot otherwise than deem this an exaggeration: you will imaginethat no reverend father could practise such conduct, and still be heldin any sort of respect by the people among whom he dwelt? So should Ihave thought had I not witnessed with my own eyes and ears the"priest-life" of Mexico. The immoralities here ascribed to PadreJoaquin can scarcely be called exceptional in his class. They arerather common than otherwise--some have even said _universal_.

  It was no zealous feeling of religion, then, that could have "set" themonk in such hostile attitude against the family of the poor cibolero.No. It was some old grudge against the deceased father,--some crosswhich the padre had experienced from him in the days of the formerComandante.

  As Padre Joaquin walked forward on the azotea, his busy bustling airshowed that he was charged with some "novedad;" and the triumphant smileupon his countenance told that he calculated upon its being of interestto those to whom he was about to communicate it.

  "Good day, father!--Good day, your reverence!" said the Comandante andRoblado speaking at the same time.

  "_Buenos dias, cavalleros_!" responded the padre.

  "Glad to see you, good father!" said Roblado. "You have saved me aride. I was just in the act of starting for the mission to wait uponyour reverence."

  "And if you had come, capitan, I could have given you a luxury to lunchupon. We have received our buffalo-tongues."

  "Oh! you have!" cried Vizcarra and Roblado in the same breath, and withan expression of interest that somewhat surprised the padre.

  "Ha! you greedy _ladrones_! I see what you would be after. You wouldhave me send you some of them. You sha'n't have a slice though--thatis, unless you can give me something that will wash this dust out of mythroat. I'm woeful thirsty this morning."

  "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the officers. "What shall it be, father?"

  "Well--let me see.--Ah!--a cup of `Bordeos'--that you received by lastarrival."

  The claret was ordered and brought up; and the padre, tossing off aglassful, smacked his lips after it with the air of one who well knewand appreciated the good quality of the wine.

  "_Linda! lindisima_!" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes up to heaven, as ifeverything good should come and go in that direction.

  "And so, padre," said the impatient Roblado, "you have got yourbuffalo-tongues? Your hunters, then, have returned?"

  "They have; that is the business that brought me over."

  "Good! that was the business that was about to take me to the mission."

  "An onza we were both on the same errand!" challenged the padre.

  "I won't bet, father; you always win."

  "Come! you'd be glad to give an onza for my news."

  "What news?--what news?" asked the officers at once, and with hurriedimpatience of manner.

  "Another cup of Bordeos, or I choke! The dust of that road is worsethan purgatory. Ah! this is a relief."

  And again the padre swallowed a large glassful of claret, and smackedhis lips as before.

  "Now your news, dear padre?"

  "_Pues_, cavalleros--our hunters have returned!"

  "_Y pues_?"

  "_Pues que_! they have brought news."

  "Of what?"

  "Of our friend the cibolero."

  "Of Carlos?"

  "Precisely of that individual."

  "What news? Have they seen him?"

  "No, not exactly _him_, but _his trail_. They have discovered his lair,and know where he is at this moment."

  "Good!" exclaimed Vizcarra and Roblado.

  "They can find him at any time."

  "Excellent!"

  "_Pues_, cavalleros; that is my news at your service. Use it to youradvantage, if you can."

  "Dear padre!" replied Vizcarra, "yours is a wiser head than ours. Youknow the situation of affairs. Our troopers _cannot catch_ thisvillain. How would you advise us to act?"

  The padre felt nattered by this confidence.

  "Amigos!" said he, drawing both of them together, "I have been thinkingof this; and it is my opinion you will do just as well without the helpof a single soldier. Take these two hunters into your confidence--sofar as may be necessary--equip them for the work--set them on the trail;and if they don't hunt down the heretic rascal, then I, Padre Joaquin,have no knowledge of men."

  "Why, padre!" said Roblado; "it's the very thing we have been thinkingabout--the very business for which I was about to seek you."

  "You had good reason, cavalleros. In my opinion, it's the best courseto be followed."

  "But will your hunters go willingly to work? They are free men, and maynot like to engage in so dangerous an enterprise."

  "Dangerous!" repeated the padre. "The danger will be no obstacle tothem, I promise you. They have the courage of lions and the agility oftigers. You need not fear that danger will stand in the way."

  "You think, then, they will be disposed to it?"

  "They _are_ disposed--I have sounded them. They have some reasons oftheir own for not loving the cibolero too dearly; and therefore,cavalleros, you won't require to use much persuasion on that score. Ifancy you'll find them ready enough, for they have, been reading theproclamation, and, if I mistake not, have been turning over in theirthoughts the fine promises it holds out. Make it sure to them that theywill be well rewarded, and they'll bring you the cibolero's ears, or hisscalp, or his whole carcase, if you prefer it, in less than three daysfrom the present time! They'll track him down, I warrant."

  "Should we send some troopers along with them? The cibolero may not bealone. We have reason to believe he has a half-blood with him--a sortof right-hand man of his own--and with this help he may be quite a matchfor your hunters."

  "Not likely--they are very _demonios_. But you can consult themselvesabout that. They will know best whether they need assistance. That istheir own affair, cavalleros. Let them decide."

  "Shall we send for them? or will you send them to us?" inquired Roblado.

  "Do you not think it would be better for one of you to go to _them_?The matter should be managed privately. If they make their appearancehere, and hold an interview with either of you, your business with themwill be suspected, and perchance get known to _him_. If it should reachhis ears that these fellows are after him, their chances of taking himwould be greatly diminished."

  "You are right, father," said Roblado. "How can we communicate withthese fellows p
rivately?"

  "Nothing easier than that, capitan. Go to their house--I should rathersay to their hut--for they live in a sort of hovel by the rocks. Theplace is altogether out of the common track. No one will be likely tosee you on your visit. You must pass through a narrow road in thechapparal; but I shall send you a guide who knows the spot, and he willconduct you. I think it like enough the fellows will be expecting you,as I hinted to them to stay at home--that possibly they might be wanted.No doubt you'll find them there at this moment."

  "When can you send up the guide?"

  "He is here now--my own attendant will do. He is below in the court--you need lose no time."

  "No. Roblado," added the Comandante, "your horse is ready--you cannotdo better than go at once."

  "Then go I shall: your guide, padre?"

  "Esteban! Hola! Esteban!" cried the padre, leaning over the wall.

  "_Aqui, Senor_," answered a voice.

  "_Sube! sube! anda_!" (Come up quickly.)

  The next moment an Indian boy appeared upon the azotea, and taking offhis hat approached the padre with an air of reverence.

  "You will guide the capitan through the path in the chapparal to thehunters' hut."

  "Si, Senor."

  "Don't tell any one you have done so."

  "No, Senor."

  "If you do you shall catch the `cuarto.' _Vaya_!"

  Roblado, followed by the boy, descended the escalera; and, after beinghelped on his horse, rode away from the gate.

  The padre, at the invitation of Vizcarra, emptied another cup ofBordeos; and then, telling his host that a luncheon of the new luxuryawaited him at the mission, he bade him good day, and shuffled offhomeward.

  Vizcarra remained alone upon the azotea. Had any one been there towatch him, they would have noticed that his countenance assumed astrange and troubled expression every time his eyes chanced to wander inthe direction of La Nina.