by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE.
AN UNLUCKY TUMBLE.
Soon as Nacena had started on return to the town, the gaucho and hiscompanions commence making preparations to descend from the hill. Notby the road leading down to the _tolderia_, but the path by which theycame up. For before her parting with them the Indian girl and Gasparhad held further speech; she imparting to him additional information ofhow things stood in the tribe; he, in turn, giving her more detailedinstructions how to act, in the event of her being able to obtain aninterview with the paleface captive, and to get her off from the placewhere confined. In the programme arranged between them, the final partto be played by Nacena would be her conducting her charge round to theother side of the hill, where the rescuers would be in waiting toreceive her. Delivered to them, the action of the Indian girl would beat end, so far as that affair was concerned, while theirs had yet to beconsidered.
The place where they were to await her was, of course, mutuallyunderstood--by the entrance to the uphill path, under the great _ceiba_tree. Nacena knew it well, having oft traversed that path, reclined inthe shadow of the tree, and played under it from the earliest days ofchildhood. For it was a pretty spot, much-frequented by the youngermembers of the community when out for promenade on the plain, or nuttingamong the palm-groves that studded it. A sort of rendezvous, orstopping place, from the two routes to the town here diverging; theshorter, though by far the more difficult, being that over the CemeteryHill. Of the roundabout one, Gaspar, of course, had no knowledge. Buthe knew the _ceiba_, and the way back to it, all that they needed. Thegirl had trodden both, hundreds of times, and was acquainted with theirevery reach and turning. She would come anyhow, and no fear of her notfinding the way; their only fear was of her coming unaccompanied.
Least of all has Ludwig this apprehension; instead, full confidence thatthe Indian will will bring Francesca back with her. Strange this; butstranger still, that, while overjoyed with the thought of his sisterbeing delivered from captivity, his joy should have a tinge of sadnessin it, like a mingling of shadow and sun. This due to his suspicion ofthe motives actuating her who has promised to be his sister's deliverer.Nacena is not their friend for mere friendship's sake; nor his, becauseof the former fellowship between him and her own brother. Instead,jealousy is her incentive, and what she is doing, though it be to theirbenefit, is but done for the thwarting of Aguara.
Though Ludwig has expressed his opinion that they will soon seeFrancesca, he is silent about these suspicions. There is no time tospeak of them if he would. For in a few seconds after Nacena'sseparating from them, Gaspar gives the signal for action, and all threebecome engaged in getting ready their horses for a return to the plain.
"_Por Dios_!" mutters the gaucho, while slipping on his bridle. "Idon't much fancy remaining longer in this melancholy place. Though highand airy, it mayn't be wholesome. If, after all, that brown beautyshould change her mind, and play us false, we'd be in a bad predicamentup here--a regular trap, with no chance of retreating from it. So thesooner we're back to the bottom of the hill, the safer 'twill be. Therewe'll at least have some help from the speed of our horses, if in theend we have to run for it. Let us get below at once!"
Having by this finished adjusting his bridle, he hands the rein toCypriano, adding--
"You hold this, senorito, while I go after Shebotha. Botheration takethat old hag! She'll be a bother to us, to say nothing of the extraweight for our poor horses. After all, she's not very heavy--only a bagof bones."
"But, Gaspar; are you in earnest about our taking her along with us?"asks Cypriano.
"How are we to help it, _hijo mio_! If we leave her here, she'd be backin the town before we could get started; that is, if we have the goodluck to get started at all. I needn't point out what would be theupshot of that. Pursuit, as a matter of course, pell mell, andimmediate. True, we might leave her tied to the post, and muffled asshe is. But then she'd be missed by to-morrow morning, if not sooner,and they'd be sure to look for her up here. No likelier place for suchas she, among these scaffolds; except tied to a scaffold of anothersort, and in a somewhat different style."
The gaucho pauses, partly to enjoy his own jest, at which he isgrinning, and partly to consider whether Shebotha can be disposed of inany other way.
Cypriano suggests another, asking--
"Why couldn't we take her in among these trees, and tie her to one ofthem? There's underwood thick enough to conceal her from the eyes ofanyone passing by, and with the muffle over her head, as now, shecouldn't cry out that they'd hear her."
"'Twould never do," rejoins Gaspar, after an instant of reflection."Hide her as we might, they'd find her all the same. These redskins,half-naked though they are, can glide about among bushes, even thornyones, like slippery snakes. So many of them, they'd beat every bit ofthicket within leagues, in less than no time. Besides, you forget theirdogs. Scores they have--ay, hundreds, some of them keen-scented asbeagles. _Carrai_! they'd smell the nasty witch half-a-mile off, and sodiscover her whereabouts to their masters."
"True," returns Cypriano, seeing the plan he has proposed would not do."In that way they would find her, no doubt."
"And if they didn't," interposed Ludwig, speaking from a sentiment ofhumanity, "it would be dreadful."
"Dreadful! what do you mean?" asks Cypriano, looking puzzled. "For them_not_ to find her is just what we want."
"Ah, cousin! how would it be for _her_? Tied to a tree, with no hope--no chance of getting loosed from it--she'd die of hunger or thirst--miserably perish. Wicked as Shebotha is, we'd be worse than she if weleft her to such a fate as that, to say nothing of our bringing it uponher. Ay, and for doing so we'd deserve the same ourselves, or somethingas bad."
"Well, Senor Ludwig," rejoins the gaucho, with an air of submissionrather than conviction, "you may be right in what you say, and I'm notthe man to deny it. But there need be no difference of opinion on thatpoint. Leaving Shebotha tied to a tree wouldn't do on any account, forthe reasons I've stated. It might--most likely would, and, as you say,it ought--end in ourselves getting tied to trees or stakes, with abundle of faggots between our legs set to the tune of a slow fire.But," he adds, after a second or two spent considering, "there's onlyone other way I can think of to deal with the witch, if we're not totake her with us."
"What's the other?" asks Cypriano, seeing that the gaucho hesitates todeclare it.
"Why, knock her on the head, or draw the blade of a _cuchilla_ acrossher throat, and so stop her grunting at once and for ever. The oldwretch deserves no better fate and hanging's too good for her. Butthey'd find her dead body all the same; though not with a tongue in itto tell who stopped her wind, or, what's of more consequence, how andwhich way we went off. Besides, I dare say, the Senor Ludwig wouldn'tagree to our getting disembarrassed of her in that fashion."
"Oh! no, no!" ejaculates the humane youth, horrified at the thought ofsuch cruelty, "anything but that, Caspar."
"Well, there isn't anything but what I propose doing--that is, takingher along. I'm willing to accommodate her on the croup of my _recado_,and will show her all the gallantry she deserves. If you're jealous,Senor Ludwig, you may have her behind you; and as your horse is thelightest laden, that might be best. When we're crossing back over that_riacho_ where you left your saddle-bags, if you're tired of ridingdouble, you can drop her down among the lightning-eels, and let themplay their batteries upon her old bones till every joint of them cracksasunder."
Were it not for the gravity of the situation, Gaspar's young companionswould be greatly amused at his quaint rhodomontade. But as both are tooanxious about the future, and in no humour for a jest, Ludwig onlyanswers with a faint smile; while Cypriano, alone thinking of Francesca,has somewhat impatiently listened to it. Having hold of the bridle-reinwhich the gaucho has handed to him, on the latter ceasing to speak, hesays in urgent tone--
"Bring her along, then, good Gaspar; and be quick about it! As you'vesaid, we s
hould get down to the plain as soon as possible."
The admonition is not needed, for Gaspar does not waste time over hisjokes, nor allow them to interfere with his action. And whiledelivering the last sally, he has been looking to his horse-gear, to seethat his _recade_ is in a proper condition to receive her who is to behis double.
Satisfied it will do, he strides off to where Shebotha is tied; and in afew seconds returns bearing the sorceress in his arms, as though shewere but a bundle of rags.
Hoisting her up to his horse's withers, and with a stern threat and ashake, telling her to stay there, he springs upon the saddle behind her.It would not be their relative positions, then riding double, were theystarting out on a long journey. But it will do for the half-mile or so,to the bottom of the hill, and for that short distance it seems idleeither to bind her to his own body or to the saddle. So thinks Gaspar;but in this the gaucho, with all his prudent sagacity, is for onceincautious to a fault. As they are groping their way down the steepslope, zig-zagging among the tree trunks that stand thickly on bothsides of the path, a troop of ring-tailed monkeys asleep in their tops,having their slumbers disturbed by the clink-clink of the hoofs againststones, set up a lugubrious howling. All the three horses areaffrighted by the unearthly noise, but Gaspar's more than any; so much,that rearing erect upon its hind legs, with the ground so uneven, theanimal loses balance, and stumbles over on its side.
As the gaucho gathers himself, stunned and somewhat dazed by the fall,'tis to learn that for that night his riding double is at an end, withShebotha sharing the saddle; for the sorceress is no longer to be seen!