CHAPTER XII.
INFORMATION.
When Valentine and Trangoil-Lanec gained the front of the hut, the doorwas opened, and a woman presented herself.
This woman had in her countenance a marked expression of mildness,mixed with a melancholy cast; she appeared to be suffering pain. Herdress, entirely composed of blue cloth, consisted of a tunic whichfell to her feet, but was very narrow, which makes the women of thatcountry take short steps; a short mantle, called an ichcha, covered hershoulders and was crossed upon her breast, where it was drawn togetherby means of a silver buckle.
As soon as this woman opened the door, Caesar rushed so violently intothe interior of the hut that he almost knocked her down in his passage.She staggered, and was obliged to hold herself up by the wall.
"I know what troubles the animal thus," the woman said mildly; "mybrothers are travellers; let them enter this poor hut, which belongs tothem; their slave will serve them."
So saying, the mistress of the hut stood on one side to allow thestrangers to enter. They found Caesar crouching in the middle of thecuarto, with his nose close to the ground, sniffing, snatching, andgrowling.
"Good God!" Valentine muttered anxiously, "what has been done here?"
Without saying a word Trangoil-Lanec placed himself close to the dog;stretched along upon the ground, with his eyes intently fixed upon it,he examined it as closely as if he thought his glance could penetrateit. At the end of a minute he arose, and seated himself by Valentine,who seeing his companion had got a fit of Indian silence, found itnecessary to speak first.
"Well, chief," he asked, "what is there fresh?"
"Nothing," the Ulmen replied; "these traces are at least four days old."
"What traces are you speaking of, chief?"
"Traces of blood."
"Of blood!" the young man cried. "Can Dona Rosario have beenassassinated?"
"No," the chief replied, "if this blood belonged to her, she has onlybeen wounded; her wound has been dressed."
"Dressed! come, that is too strong, chief!"
"My brother is quick--he does not reflect. Let him look here."
And he opened his right hand, and displayed an object enclosed in it.
"Caramba!" Valentine replied, quite out of humour, "an old dried leaf!What on earth can that teach?"
"Everything," said the Indian.
"Pardieu? If you can prove that, chief, I shall consider you thegreatest machi in all Araucania."
"It is very simple. This leaf is the oregano leaf; the oregano sovaluable for stopping the effusion of blood."
"Here are traces of blood; a person has been wounded; and on the samespot I find an oregano leaf: that leaf did not come there of itself,consequently that person's wounds have been dressed."
The woman now entered, bearing two ox horns full of harina tostada;they ate their horn of meal heartily, and drank more than one cup ofchicha each. As soon as they had ended this light repast, the Indianpresented the mate to them, which they tossed off with great pleasure,and then they lit their cigars.
"My sister is kind," Trangoil-Lanec said; "will she talk a minute withus!"
"I will do as my brothers please."
Valentine took two piastres from his pocket, and presented them to thewoman, saying, "Will my sister permit me to offer her this trifle tomake earrings?"
"I thank my brother," said the poor woman; "my brother is a muruche;perhaps he is the relation of the young paleface girl who was here?"
"I am not her relation," he said, "I am her friend. I confess thatif my sister can give me any intelligence of her, she will render mehappy."
"Some days ago," said the woman, "a great woman of the palefacesarrived here towards evening, followed by half a score of mosotones; Iam not well, and that is why, for a month past, I have remained in thevillage. This woman asked me to allow her to pass the night in my hut.Towards the middle of the night there was a great noise of horses inthe village, and several horsemen arrived, bringing with them a youngpalefaced maiden of a mild and sad countenance; she was a prisoner tothe other, as I afterwards learnt. I do not know how the young girlmanaged it, but she succeeded in escaping. This woman and the Toquiwent in search of the young girl, whom they soon brought back across ahorse, with her head cut. The poor child had fainted; her blood flowedin abundance; she was in a pitiable state. I do not know what passed,but the woman suddenly changed her manner of acting towards the younggirl; she dressed her wound, and took the most affectionate care ather. After that, Antinahuel and the woman departed, leaving the younggirl in my hut, with ten mosotones to guard her. One of these mosotonestold me that the girl belonged to the Toqui, who intended to make herhis wife."
"Yesterday the paleface squaw was much better, and the mosotones setoff with her, about three o'clock."
"And the young girl," Trangoil-Lanec asked, "did she say nothing to mysister before she departed?"
"Nothing," the woman answered; "the poor child wept; she was unwillingto go, but they made her get on horseback by threatening to tie her on."
"Which way did they go?" said Trangoil-Lanec.
"The mosotones talked among themselves of the tribe of the Red Vulture."
"Thanks to my sister," the Ulmen replied; "she may retire, the men aregoing to hold a council."
The woman arose and left the cuarto.
"Now," the chief asked, "what is my brother's intention?"
"Pardieu! we must follow the track of the ravishers."
"Good! that is also my advice; only, two men are not enough toaccomplish such a project."
"True; but what else are we to do?"
"Not to set out till this evening."
"Why so?"
"Because Curumilla will have rejoined us by that time."
Valentine, knowing that he had several hours to pass in this place,resolved to take advantage of the opportunity; he stretched himselfupon the ground, placed a stone under his head, closed his eyes,and fell asleep. Trangoil-Lanec did not sleep, but, with a piece ofcord which he picked up in a corner of the hut, he measured all thefootprints left upon the ground of the hut.
After carefully tying the end of the cord to his belt, he, in his turn,lay down upon the ground close to Valentine.
The Pearl of the Andes: A Tale of Love and Adventure Page 12