La loi de lynch. English

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La loi de lynch. English Page 21

by Gustave Aimard


  CHAPTER XXI.

  CURUMILLA.

  About a month after the events we have just described, in the early partof December, which the Comanches call, in their picturesque language,"the Moon of the roebuck that sheds its horns," and a few minutes aftersunrise, a party, consisting of five or six men, whom, by their garb, itwas easy to recognise as wood rangers from the Far West, climbed one ofthe highest peaks of the Sierra de los Comanches, the eastern chain ofthe Rocky Mountains, running down into Texas, where it terminates in theGuadaloupe mountains.

  The weather was cold, and a dense layer of snow covered the sides of themountains. The slope which these bold adventurers were following, was soscarped that, although accustomed to travel in these regions, they wereoften compelled to bend their backs and creep along on their hands andknees. But no difficulty baffled them, no obstacle was great enough tomake them turn back.

  At times, worn out with fatigue, and bathed in perspiration, theystopped to take breath, lay down on the snow, and picked up somehandfuls to allay the ardent thirst that devoured them; then, afterresting a little while, they courageously set out again, and clamberedup the eternal ice, whose gigantic masses became with each moment moreabrupt.

  Were these men in search of a practicable road in this frightfullabyrinth of mountains, whose peaks rose around them, at an immenseheight, in the icy regions of the sky? Perhaps, however, they wished,for reasons known to themselves alone, to gain a spot whence they couldhave an extensive prospect.

  If such were their hope, it was not deceived. When, after incessant toilthey all at last reached the summit of the peak they were scaling, theysuddenly had before them a landscape, whose grand appearance amazed andstartled them through its sublime immensity. In whatever direction theylooked, they were confounded by the majesty of the panorama unfolded attheir feet.

  In truth, the Rocky Mountains are unique in the world, bearing noresemblance with the Pyrenees, Alps, and Apennines, and thosemagnificent chains of mountains which here and there stride across theold world, and seem with their barren crest to protest against the prideof creatures, in the name of the Creator.

  The hunters were hanging, as it were, over a world. Beneath them was theSierra de los Comanches, an immense mountain broken up into snowy peaks,displaying all their gloomy caverns, deep and awe-inspiring valleys,their brilliant lakes, their dark defiles and their foaming torrents,which bounded noisily downward; then, far beyond these savage limits,the eye was lost in an unbounded landscape, bathed in a hazy distance,like the surface of the sea in calm weather.

  Owing to the purity and transparency of the atmosphere, the adventurersdistinguished the smallest objects at a surprising distance. However, inall probability, these men had not undertaken so perilous an ascentthrough motives of curiosity. The mode in which they examined thecountry and analysed the immense panorama unrolled before them, proved,on the contrary, that very serious reasons had urged them to brave thealmost insurmountable difficulties they had overcome, in order to reachthe point where they were.

  The group formed by these men with their bronzed faces, energeticfeatures and picturesque garb, as they leant on their rifles, with eyesfixed on space and frowning brow, had something grand about it; at thisextraordinary elevation, at the summit of the peak covered with eternalsnow, which served them as a pedestal in the midst of the chaos thatsurrounded them.

  For a long time they remained there without speaking, trying todistinguish in the windings of the _quebradas_ the slightest break ofthe ground, deaf to the mournful growling of the torrents that leaped attheir feet, and the sinister rolling of the avalanches, which glideddown the mountain side, and fell with a crash into the valleys, draggingtrees and rocks with them.

  At length the man who appeared the leader of the party passed his handover his brow, damp with exertion, though the cold was intense in theseregions, and turned to his companions to say, "My friends, we are nowtwenty thousand feet above the level of the plain, that is to say, wehave reached the spot where the Indian warrior sees for the first timeafter death the country of souls, and contemplates the happy huntinggrounds, the brilliant abode of just, free, and generous warriors. Theeagle alone could rise higher than ourselves."

  "Yes," one of his comrades replied, with a shake of head; "but, though Ikeep looking around, I see no possibility of getting out."

  "Hilloh, General!" the first speaker interposed, "What is that you aresaying? We might fancy, which Heaven forbid, that you were despairing."

  "Well," the other, who was General Ibanez, replied, "that suppositionwould not be without a certain degree of correctness; listen to me, DonValentine; for ten days we have been lost on these confounded mountains,surrounded by ice, and snow, and with nothing to eat, under the pretextof finding the hiding place of that old villain Red Cedar, and I do notmind confessing to you, that I am beginning, not to despair, but tobelieve that, unless a miracle happen, it will be impossible for us toget out of this inextricable chaos in which we are enclosed."

  Valentine shook his head several times. The five men standing on thepeak were really the Trail-hunter and his friends.

  "No matter," General Ibanez continued, "you will agree with me that ourposition, far from improving, is growing with each moment moredifficult; for two days we have been completely out of provisions, and Ido not see how we shall procure any in these icy regions. Red Cedar hastricked us with that diabolical cunning which never fails him, he hasled us into a trap we cannot get out of, and where we shall find death."

  There was a mournful silence. The despair of these energetic men, coldlycalculating, amid the steep, northerly country that surrounded them, thefew hours of existence still left them, had something crushing about it.Scarce able to stand, more like corpses than men, with haggard featuresand eyes reddened with fever, they stood calm and resigned, gazing onthe magnificent plains stretching out at their feet, on which thousandsof animals sported and covered everywhere with trees, whose fruit wouldso quickly have checked their hunger.

  But between them and these plains stood an insurmountable barrier, whichneither strength nor cunning could carry: all that was humanly possible,these men had done during the last two days to save themselves. Alltheir plans had been foiled by a strange fatality, which made themconstantly go round in a circle among these mountains, which are so likeeach other, and all their attempts had broken down.

  "Pardon me, my friends," Don Miguel de Zarate said, with a crushingaccent of sorrow, "pardon me, for I alone am the cause of your death."

  "Speak not so, Don Miguel," Valentine quickly exclaimed, "all is notlost, yet."

  A heart-rending smile played round the hacendero's lips.

  "You are ever the same, Don Valentine," he said; "good, and generous,forgetting yourself for your friends. Alas! Had we followed your advice,we should not be dying of famine and misery in these desolatemountains."

  "That will do," the hunter said, gruffly; "what is done cannot beundone; perhaps it would have been better had you listened to me somedays back, I grant; but of what use is recrimination now? Let us ratherseek the means to get out of this."

  "It is impossible," Don Miguel continued, disconsolately, and lettinghis head fall in his hands, he gave way to sad reflections.

  "Caray!" the hunter exclaimed, energetically, "Impossible is a word weFrenchmen have erased from our dictionary. Hang it! As long as the heartbeats, there is hope. Were Red Cedar more cunning than he is, whichwould be most difficult, I swear you that we shall find him, and get outof this hobble."

  "But how?" Don Pablo eagerly asked.

  "I do not know; still I am certain we shall escape."

  "Ah, if we were only by the side of those two horsemen," the generalsaid, with a sigh, "we should be saved."

  "What horsemen do you allude to, general I where do you see them?" thehunter asked.

  "There," he replied, "near the clump of cork trees. Do you see them?"

  "Oh," said Valentine, "they are riding quietly, like men who know theyare on
the right road, and have nothing to fear."

  "They are very lucky," the general muttered.

  "Bah! Who knows what awaits them on turning from the road they are nowfollowing so peacefully?" the hunter remarked, with a smile; "No one cananswer for the next minute; they are on the road from Independence toSanta Fe."

  "Hum! I should like to be there too," the general growled between histeeth.

  Valentine, who first looked carelessly at the horsemen, now followedthem with interest, almost with anxiety; but they soon disappeared in abend of a road. For a long time, however, the hunter remained with hiseyes fixed on the spot where he had first seen them; gradually he beganfrowning, a deep wrinkle was hollowed on his forehead, and he leaned onhis rifle, motionless and dumb, but seeming to be suffering from greatagitation. Involuntarily, his comrades followed with growing interestthe current of his thoughts, which could be read, as it were, on theircompanion's brow. He remained for some time thus absorbed, but at lengthhe raised his head, and looked around with a bright and intrepid glance.

  "My friends," he said, joyously, as he struck the butt of his rifle onthe ground, "regain courage, I believe I have found the way of gettingsafe and sound out of the wasp nest into which we have thrust ourheads."

  His comrades gave vent to a sigh of relief, almost of joy. They knew thehunter, they were aware how fertile the mind of this brave and devotedman was in expedients, and how inaccessible to despondency; they putentire faith in him. Valentine told them he believed he could save them;they did not suspect what means he would employ, but that was hisbusiness, not theirs. Now they were calm, for they had his word, whichhe had never been known to break; they had only to wait patiently tillthe hour for their deliverance arrived.

  "Bah!" the general answered, gaily, "I was sure we should get out ofthis, my friend."

  "When shall we start?" Don Pablo asked.

  "As soon as it is night," Valentine replied; "but where is Curumilla?"

  "On my word I do not know. I saw him about half an hour ago, glidingalong the mountain side, as if he had suddenly gone mad; but I have notseen him since."

  "Curumilla does nothing without a reason," the hunter said with a shakeof the head; "you will soon see him return."

  Indeed, the hunter had scarce finished speaking, when the Indian chiefshewed his head level with the platform, and with one leap he rejoinedhis friends. His zarape, knotted at the four corners, hung behind hisback.

  "What have you there, chief?" Valentine asked, with a smile: "Can it befood?"

  "Cuerpo de Cristo!" the general exclaimed, "it would be welcome, for Ihave a wolf's appetite."

  "Where could provisions be found in this fearful region?" Don Pabloexclaimed, in a hollow voice.

  "My brothers will see," the chief simply answered.

  And he threw his zarape on the snow, where Valentine undone the knots.The hunters uttered a cry of joy, for it contained a hare, a youngpeccary, and several birds. These provisions, arriving so opportunely,when the hunters had been fasting for nearly forty-eight hours, seemedto them the result of magic.

  To understand the emotion the four men experienced at the sight of themuch-desired food, a man must have himself gone through all the agony ofhunger, without any hope of stilling it--it was almost frenzy. When thefirst impression was slightly calmed, Valentine turned to the chief, andpressed his hand tenderly, as a tear rolled down his cheek.

  "My brother is a great sorcerer," he said to him.

  The Ulmen smiled softly, and stretched out his arm to an eagle flying ashort distance from the spot where the hunters stood.

  "We shared," he said.

  Valentine could not restrain a cry of admiration, for all was explainedto him. The Araucano, whom nothing escaped, had seen the eagle, guessedthat it had a brood, and clambered up to its nest to procure a portionof their food, while on the summit of the peak his comrades were all butyielding to their despair.

  "Oh!" Valentine said joyfully, "We are saved, since we shall regain thatstrength we so much need to carry out the plan we have formed. Followme, we will return to the camp, gaily eat the dinner the eagles havesupplied us with, and start this evening."

  Comforted by these words, the hunters followed him, and the little partywent lightly down the mountain, up which they had clambered in themorning with such difficulty and despair in their hearts.

 

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