CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE BOAR AT BAY.
Don Pablo ran out of the cavern and joined Andres Garote hastily, whostill slept. The young man had some difficulty in waking him, but atlength he opened his eyes, sat up, and yawned; but perceiving the starsstill shining, he said ill-humouredly: "What fly has stung you? Let mesleep--day is still far off."
"I know that better than you, for I have not lain down."
"Then, you were wrong," the other said, yawning fit to dislocate hisjaw; "I am going to sleep, so good night."
And he tried to lie down again, but the young man prevented him. "Apretty time for sleeping," he said as he dragged away the other'szarape; in which he tried in vain to wrap himself.
"Why, you must be mad to annoy me so," he said furiously; "has anythingfresh happened?"
Don Pablo told him what he had done; the gambusino listened with themost profound attention, and when he had finished scratched his headwith embarrassment as he said, "_Demonios!_ that is serious--excessivelyserious; all lovers are madmen. You have spoiled our expedition."
"Do you think so?"
"Canelo! I am sure of it; Red Cedar is an old scoundrel, as cunning asan opossum. Now that he is put on his guard, it will take a cleverfellow to catch him."
Don Pablo looked at him in consternation.
"What is to be done?" he said.
"Be off, that is the safest; you can understand that the squatter is nowon his guard?"
There was rather a lengthened silence between the two speakers.
"Well!" the gambusino said, suddenly, "I will not be beat. I will playthe old demon a trick after my fashion."
"What is your plan?"
"That is my business. If you had placed greater confidence in me, allthis would not have happened, and we should have settled matters, to thegeneral satisfaction. Well, what is done cannot be undone, and I willtry to repair your fault, so now be off."
"Off--where to?"
"To the foot of the mountain; but do not come up again unless yourcomrades are with you. You will act as their guide to this spot."
"But you?"
"Don't trouble yourself about me. Good-bye."
"Well," the young man said, "I leave you at liberty to act as you thinkproper."
"You ought to have formed that resolution sooner. Ah, by the way, justleave me your hat."
"With great pleasure; but you have one."
"Perhaps I want another. Ah! one word more."
"Speak."
"If by any chance you should hear a noise--shots fired, say--as you aregoing down the mountain, do not alarm yourself, or come up again."
"Good--that is agreed; so good-bye."
After tossing his hat to the gambusino, the young man put his rifle onhis shoulder, and began descending the mountain: he speedily disappearedin the countless windings of the path. So soon as Andres Garote wasalone, he picked up Don Pablo's hat and threw it over the precipice,eagerly watching its descent. After turning over and over, the hattouched a peak, rebounded, and at length rested on the mountainside agreat distance beneath.
"Good," the gambusino said with satisfaction, "that is all right; nowfor the rest."
Andres Garote then sat down on the ground, took his rifle, anddischarged it in the air; immediately, drawing one of his pistols fromhis belt, he stretched out his left arm and pulled the trigger; the ballwent right through the fleshy part. "Caramba!" he said, as he fell allhis length on the ground, "that pains more than I fancied; but nomatter; the great point is to succeed, so now to await the result."
Nearly a quarter of an hour elapsed and nothing disturbed the silence ofthe desert. Andres, still stretched at full length, was groaning in away that would move the heart of the rocks. At length a slight noise washeard a short distance off.
"Halloh!" the gambusino muttered, cunningly watching what had happened,"I fancy there's a bite."
"Who the deuce have we here?" a rough voice said; "Go and see, Sutter."
Andres Garote opened his eyes and recognised Red Cedar, and his son."Ah!" he said in a hollow voice, "Is that you, old squatter? Where thedeuce do you come from? If I expected anybody, it was certainly not you,though I am delighted with you."
"I know that voice," exclaimed Red Cedar.
"It is Andres Garote, the gambusino," Sutter replied.
"Yes, it is I, my good Sutter," the Mexican said. "Oh! oh! How Isuffer!"
"What's the matter with you, and how did you come here?"
"You're all right, I see," the other replied savagely. "Cuerpo deCristo! Things have gone with me from bad to worse since I left myrancho to come in this accursed prairie."
"Will you answer yes or no?" Red Cedar said angrily, dashing his riflebutt on the ground, and giving him a suspicious glance.
"Well, I am wounded, that, is easy to see; I have a bullet in my arm,and am all over bruises. Santa Maria, how I suffer! But no matter, thebrigand who attacked me will never injure anybody again."
"Have you killed him?" the squatter asked eagerly.
"I did my best; look over the precipice--you will see his body."
Sutter bent over. "I see a hat," he said directly after; "the bodycannot be far."
"Unless it has rolled to the bottom of the barranca."
"That is probable," Sutter remarked, "for the rock is almostperpendicular."
"Oh, demonios! Nuestra Senora! How I suffer!" the gambusino groaned.
The squatter had in his turn leant over the precipice; he recognised DonPablo's hat; he gave a sign of satisfaction, and returned to Andres.
"Come," he said in a gentle tone, "we cannot stop here all night; canyou walk?"
"I do not know, but I will try."
"Try, then, in the demon's name."
The gambusino rose with infinite difficulty and tried to walk a littleway, but fell back. "I cannot," he said despondingly.
"Nonsense!" said Sutter; "I will take him on my back, he is not veryheavy."
"Look sharp, then."
The young man stooped, took the gambusino in his arms, and laid himacross his shoulders as easily as if he had been a child. Ten minuteslater Andres Garote was in the cavern lying before the fire, and FrayAmbrosio was bandaging up his arm.
"Well, gossip," the monk said, "you have been very cleverly wounded."
"Why so?" the Mexican asked in alarm.
"Why, a wound in the left arm will not prevent your firing a shot withus in case of an alarm."
"I will do so, you may be sure," he replied, with a singular accent.
"With all that, you have not told me by what chance you were on themountain," Red Cedar remarked.
"It was simple; since the destruction and dispersion of our poorcuadrilla, I have been wandering about in every direction like amasterless dog; hunted by the Indians to take my scalp, pursued by thewhites to be hanged, as forming part of Red Cedar's band, I did not knowwhere to find shelter. About three days back chance brought me to thissierra; tonight, at the moment I was going to sleep, after eating amouthful, a fellow whom the darkness prevented me recognising, suddenlythrew himself on me; you know the rest--but no matter, I settled hislittle score."
"Good, good," Red Cedar quickly interrupted him, "keep that to yourself;now, good night, you must need rest; so sleep, if you can."
The gambusino's stratagem was too simple and at the same time toocleverly carried out, not to succeed. No one can suppose that anindividual would voluntarily, give himself a serious wound, and anysuspicions on Red Cedar's part were entirely dissipated by the sight ofDon Pablo's hat. How could he suppose that two men of such differentcharacter and position should be working together? Anything was crediblebut that. Hence the bandits, who recognised in Garote one of themselves,did not at all distrust him.
The worthy ranchero, delighted at having got into the lion's den, almostcertain of the success of his scheme, and too accustomed to wounds tocare much about the one he had given himself with such praiseworthydexterity, began again the slumber Don Pablo had so rou
ghly interruptedand slept till daybreak. When he awoke, Fray Ambrosio was by his side,preparing the morning meal.
"Well," the monk asked him, "how do you feel now?"
"Much better than I should have fancied," he answered; "sleep has doneme good."
"Let me look at your wound, gossip."
Andres held out his arm, which the monk bandaged afresh, and the two menwent on talking like friends delighted at meeting again after alengthened separation. All at once Red Cedar hurried up, rifle in hand.
"Look out!" he shouted, "Here is the enemy."
"The enemy!" the gambusino said, "Canelo, where is my rifle? If I cannotstand, I will fire sitting down: it shall not be said that I did nothelp my friends in their trouble."
Sutter now ran up from the other side, shouting:
"Look out!"
This strange coincidence of two attacks made from opposite sidesrendered Red Cedar thoughtful. "We are betrayed," he shouted.
"By whom?" the gambusino impudently asked.
"By you, perhaps," the squatter answered furiously.
Andres began laughing.
"You are mad, Red Cedar," he said: "danger has made you lose your head.You know very well that I have not stirred from here."
The reasoning was unanswerable.
"And yet, I would swear that one of us has been the traitor," thesquatter continued passionately.
"Instead of recriminating as you are doing," Andres said, with an accentof wounded dignity, perfectly played, "you would do better to fly. Youare too old a fox to have only one hole to your earth--all the issuescannot be occupied, hang it all: while you are escaping, I, who cannotwalk, will cover the retreat, and you will thus see whether I was thetraitor."
"You will do that?"
"I will."
"Then you are a man, and I restore you my friendship."
At this moment the war yell of the Comanches burst forth at one of theentrances, while at the opposite could be heard: "Bloodson! Bloodson!"
"Make haste, make haste!" the gambusino shouted, as he boldly seized therifle lying at his side.
"Oh, they have not got me yet," Red Cedar replied, as he seized hisdaughter in his powerful arms, who had run up at the first alarm, andwas now pressing timorously to his side. The three bandits thendisappeared in the depths of the cave. Andres leaped up as if worked bya spring, and rushed in pursuit of them, followed by twenty Comanche andApache warriors who had joined him, at whose head were Unicorn, BlackCat, and Spider.
They soon heard the sound of firing re-echoed by the walls of thecavern: the fight had begun.
Red Cedar had found himself face to face with Valentine and hiscomrades, while trying to fly by an outlet he did not suppose guarded.He fell back hurriedly, but he had been seen, and the firing immediatelybegun. A terrible combat was about to take place beneath the gloomyavenues of this vast cavern. These implacable enemies, at last face toface, had no mercy to expect from each other. Still Red Cedar did notdespond; while replying vigorously to the shots of their adversaries, heincessantly looked round him to discover a fresh outlet.
The perfect darkness that reigned in the cavern aided the bandits, who,owing to their small numbers, sheltered themselves behind rocks, andthus avoided the bullets, while their shots, fired into the compact massof enemies pressing round them, scarcely ever missed their mark.
All once the squatter uttered a triumphant yell, and, followed by hiscomrades, disappeared as if by enchantment. The Indians and rangers thendispersed in pursuit of the bandits, but they had vanished and left nosign.
"We shall never find them in this way," Valentine shouted, "and we run arisk of hitting friends; some of the warriors will be detached to cut ustorches, while we guard all the outlets."
"It is unnecessary," Curumilla said, coming up, loaded with candlewood.
In a second, the cavern was brilliantly lit up, and then the sidepassage by which Red Cedar had escaped became visible to the astonishedComanches, who had passed it twenty times without seeing it. They rushedin with a yell but there came a discharge, and three of them fellmortally wounded. The passage was low, narrow, and ascending; it formeda species of staircase. It was, in truth, a formidable position, forfour men could with difficulty advance together.
Ten times the Comanches returned to the charge, ten times they wereforced to fall back; the dead and wounded were heaped up in the cave,and the position was becoming critical.
"Halt!" Valentine shouted.
All were motionless, and then the white men and principal chiefs held acouncil; Curumilla had left the cave with a dozen warriors whom he hadmade a sign to follow him. As happens unfortunately only too often inprecarious circumstances, everybody gave a different opinion, and it wasimpossible to come to an understanding; at this moment Curumillaappeared, followed by the warriors loaded like himself with leaves anddry wood.
"Wait a moment," Valentine said, pointing to the chief; "Curumilla hashad the only sensible idea."
The others did not understand yet.
"Come, my lads," the hunter cried, "a final attack."
The Comanches rushed furiously into the passage, but a fresh dischargecompelled them again to retire.
"Enough!" the Trail-hunter commanded, "that is what I wanted to know."
They obeyed, and Valentine then turned to the chief who accompanied him.
"It is plain," he said, "that this passage has no outlet; in the firstmoment of precipitation Red Cedar did not perceive this, else he wouldnot have entered it; had it an outlet, the bandits, instead ofremaining, would have profited by the momentary respite we granted themto escape."
"That is true," the chiefs answered.
"What I tell you at this moment, Curumilla guessed long ago; the proofis that he has discovered the only way to make the demons surrender,smoking them out." Enthusiastic shouts greeted these words.
"Warriors," Valentine went on, "throw into that cave all the wood andleaves you can; when there is a large pile, we will set light to it."
Red Cedar and his comrades probably guessing their enemy's intention,tried to prevent it by keeping up an incessant fire, but the Indians,rendered prudent by experience, placed themselves so as to escape thebullets, which hit nobody. The entrance of the passage was soon almostblocked up with inflammable matter of every description. Valentineseized a lighted torch, but before setting fire to the pile he made asign to command silence, and addressed the besieged:
"Red Cedar," he shouted, "we are going to smoke you out, will yousurrender"?
"Go to the devil, accursed Frenchman," the squatter replied.
And three shots served as peroration to this energetic answer.
"Attention now! For when these demons feel themselves broiling, theywill make a desperate effort," Valentine said.
He threw the torch into the pile, the fire at once began crackling, anda dense cloud of smoke and flame formed a curtain before the passage. Inthe meanwhile, all held in readiness to repulse the sortie of thebesieged, for the Indians knew that the collision would be rude. Theyhad not to wait long, ere they saw three devils burst through the flamesand rushed headlong upon them.
A frightful medley took place in the narrow corridor, which lasted someminutes. Don Pablo, on perceiving Red Cedar, rushed upon him, and inspite of the bandit's resistance, seized Ellen, and bore her away in hisarms. The squatter roared like a tiger, felling all who came within hisreach. For their part, Sutter and Fray Ambrosio, fought with the courageand resolution of men who knew that they were about to die.
But this desperate struggle of three against several hundred could notlast long; in spite of all their efforts they were at length lassoed,and securely bound.
"Kill me, villains," Red Cedar howled in despair.
Bloodson walked up to him, and touched his shoulder.
"You will be tried by Lynch Law, Red Cedar," he said to him.
At the sight of the ranger the squatter made a terrible effort to bursthis bonds, and rush upon him; but he did not succeed, and
fell back onthe ground, which he bit at wildly, and foaming with rage. When thefight was over, Valentine hurried from the cavern to breathe a littlefresh air. Sunbeam was waiting for him. "Koutonepi," she said to him,"Seraphin, the Father of Prayer, has sent me to you--your mother isdying."
"My mother!" the hunter exclaimed in despair. "Oh, God! What shall I doto reach her?"
"Curumilla is warned," she answered; "he is waiting for you at the footof the mountains, with two horses."
The hunter rushed down the path like a madman.
CHAPTER XL.
LYNCH LAW.
Before going further, we will explain in a few words what Lynch Law isto which we have several times referred in the course of this narrative,and which plays so great a part, not only in the prairies of NorthAmerica, but also in certain districts of the United States.
Although we Europeans are rightly surprised that such a monstrosity asLynch Law can exist in a general society, to be just to the Americans,and although we are bound to disapprove their present system derivedfrom the original, this law was the result of imperious circumstances.When the Pilgrim Fathers landed at Plymouth, Lynch Law was thechastisement imposed by a community deprived of all law, who could onlyhave recourse to their own justice to punish crime.
Now-a-days, in the great centres of the Union, this law, on thecontrary, is only the illegal exercise of power by a majority acting inopposition to the laws of the country, as well as the punishments, wherethe population is sparse, and which, according to the Constitution, musthave a certain number of inhabitants to be recognised as districts; upto that recognition, those who have come to seek an existence at thesesettlements among bandits of every description, against whose attacksthey cannot appeal to any legal protection, are obliged to protectthemselves, and have recourse to Lynch Law. In the prairies of the FarWest, this law is exactly the same as the ancient _lex_ _talionis_ ofthe Hebrews.
We will not go deeper into the subject of this law, which is so obscurein its origin, that its very name is an unsolved riddle, although somepersons assert wrongly, as we think, that Lynch was a governor who firstapplied this law. The only difficulty there is against the truth of thisderivation is that Lynch Law existed, as we have said, in America, fromthe first day that Europeans landed there. Without attempting toguarantee the authenticity of our assertion, it is evident that LynchLaw did not really begin to be applied in the civilised provinces of theUnion till the last years of the eighteenth century; at that period itwas much more summary, for a lamp was taken down, and the victim hoistedin its place; hence we believe that the word Lynch is only a corruptionof derivation of light. We will now return to our narrative.
Four days after the events we describe in our last chapter, Unicorn'scamp afforded a strange sight; not only did it contain Indian warriorsbelonging to all the allied nations of the Comanches, but also manyhunters, trappers, and half-breeds had hurried in from all parts of theprairies to try the prisoners, and punish them by Lynch Law asunderstood in the Far West.
Father Seraphin, who was at this moment in camp, busied in offering helpand consolation to Madame Guillois, whose illness had reached its lastand fatal stage, tried to oppose the trial of the prisoners with all hispower. In vain did he present to the Indians and white men that therewere upright judges in the United states, who would apply the laws andpunish the criminals; his efforts had obtained no result, and he hadbeen obliged to withdraw, heart-broken.
Not being able to save the prisoners, he wished to prepare them fordeath; but here again the missionary failed: he had found scoundrelswith hearts bronzed by crime, who would not listen, but derided him.Singularly enough, since these men had fallen into the hands of theirenemies, they had not exchanged a word, crouched in a corner of the hutthat served as a prison, sullen as wild beasts, they avoided each otheras much as the bonds that attached them permitted them to do.
Ellen alone appeared among them like the angel of consolation, lavishingsoft words on them, and trying before all to soothe her father's lasthours. Red Cedar only lived in and through his daughter--each smile ofthe poor girl which hid her tears, brought a smile on his face brandedand ravaged by passion: if he could have reformed, his paternal lovewould surely have affected this prodigy; but it was too late, all wasdead in this heart, which now only contained one feeling, a paternalaffection like that of tigers and panthers.
"Is it for today, my child?" he asked.
"I do not know, father," she timidly replied.
"I understand you, poor darling, you are afraid of grieving me byletting me know the truth; but undeceive yourself, when a man like mehas fallen so low as I have done, the only blessing he craves is death,and, stay, I have my answer then," he added with a grin; "Judge Lynch isabout to begin his duty."
A great noise was audible at this moment in the camp; three stakes hadbeen put up in the morning, and round them the population weretumultuously electing the judges ordered to avenge public justice.
The judges were seven in number: Valentine, Curumilla, Unicorn, BlackCat, Spider, and two other Comanche chiefs. Care had been taken not toelect any who had accusations to bring against the prisoners.
At midday precisely, a silence of lead fell on the assembly, a band ofwarriors and trappers had gone to the prison to fetch the prisoners andlead them before the judges.
Although Father Seraphin's attempts to arouse better feelings in theheart of the bandits had failed, he determined to accompany and exhortthem to the last moment; he walked on the right of Red Cedar, and Ellenon his left.
When the prisoners were brought before the tribunal, Valentine, who hadbeen nominated president against his will, summoned the accusers, who atonce appeared. They were five in number: Don Miguel, Don Pablo Zarate,Andres Garote, White Gazelle, and Bloodson. Valentine took the word in aloud and firm voice.
"Red Cedar," he said, "you are about to be tried by Lynch Law: you willhear the crimes of which you are accused, and have entire liberty todefend yourself."
The squatter shrugged his shoulders.
"Your Lynch Law is foolish," he said disdainfully; "it can only kill,and the victim has not even time to feel the pain: instead of takingthat absurd vengeance, fasten me to the stake of torture for a day, andthen you will have some fun, for you shall see how a warrior can lookdeath in the face, and endure pain."
"You are mistaken as to our intentions: we are not avenging ourselves,but punishing you; the stake is reserved for brave and honourablewarriors, but criminals are only worthy of the gallows."
"As you please," he replied carelessly; "what I said was through a wishto afford you pleasure."
"Who are the persons who have charges against Red Cedar?" Valentine wenton.
"I, Don Miguel de Zarate."
"I, Don Pablo de Zarate."
"I, who am called Bloodson, but who will reveal my real name if RedCedar desires it."
"It is unnecessary," he said in a hollow voice.
"I, White Gazelle."
"Bring your charges forward."
"I accuse this man of having carried off my daughter, whom he baselyassassinated," Don Miguel said; "I also accuse him of having caused thedeath of my friend, General Ibanez."
"What reply have you to this?"
"None."
"What does the people say?"
"We attest," the audience replied in one voice.
"I accuse this man of the same crimes," Don Pablo said.
"I accuse this man of having burnt the house of my father and mother,assassinated my parents, and handed me over to bandits to be brought upin crime," White Gazelle said.
"I," Bloodson added, "accuse him of the same crimes: this girl's fatherwas my brother."
There was a start of horror on the audience. Valentine consulted withthe judges in a low voice, then said--
"Red Cedar, you are unanimously found guilty and condemned to bescalped, and then hung."
Sutter was condemned to be hanged only; the judges had regard for hisyouth, and the evil examples he had
constantly before him. The monk'sturn had now arrived.
"One moment," Bloodson said, as he stepped forward; "this man is awretched adventurer, who has no right to wear the gown he has so longdishonoured. I ask that it be stripped off him, before he is tried."
"Why waste time in accusing me, and making this mockery of justice?"Fray Ambrosio ironically replied. "All you who try us are as criminal aswe are. You are assassins; for you usurp, without any right, functionsthat do not belong to you. This time you act justly, by chance: athousand other times, awed by the populace that surrounds you, youcondemn innocent men. If you wish to know my crimes, I will tell youthem. That man is right. I am no monk--never was one. I began bydebauchery; I finished in crime. As an accomplice of Red Cedar, I firedfarms, whose inhabitants I burned or assassinated, in order to plunderthem afterwards. I have been, still with Red Cedar, a scalp hunter. Ihelped to carry off that girl. What more? I killed that gambusino'sbrother in order to obtain the secret of a placer. Do you want any more?Imagine the most atrocious and hideous crimes, and I have committed themall. Now pronounce and carry out your sentence, for you will not succeedin making me utter another word. I despise you. You are cowards."
After uttering these odious words with revolting cynicism, the wretchlooked impudently round the audience.
"You are sentenced," Valentine said, after a consultation, "to bescalped, hung up by the arms, seasoned with honey, and remain hangingtill the flies and birds have devoured you."
On hearing this terrible sentence, the bandit could not repress a startof terror, while the people frenziedly applauded this severe sentence.
"Now the sentence will be carried out," Valentine said.
"One moment," Unicorn exclaimed, as he sprang up, and stood before thejudges; "as regards Red Cedar, the law has not been followed: does itnot say, 'eye for eye, and tooth for tooth?'"
"Yes, yes!" the Indians and trappers shouted. Struck by an ominouspresentiment, Red Cedar trembled.
"Yes," Bloodson said, in a hollow voice, "Red Cedar killed Dona Clara,Don Miguel's daughter--his daughter Ellen must die."
The judges themselves recoiled in horror, and Red Cedar uttered aterrible howl. Ellen alone did not tremble.
"I am ready to die," she said, in a gentle and resigned voice. "Poorgirl! Heaven knows how gladly I would have given my life to save hers."
"My daughter!" Red Cedar exclaimed, in despair.
"Don Miguel felt the same when you were assassinating his daughter,"Bloodson retorted, cruelly. "Eye for eye, tooth for tooth."
"Oh! What you are doing there, my brothers, is horrible," FatherSeraphin exclaimed. "You are shedding innocent blood, and it will fallon your heads. God will punish you. For pity's sake, brothers, do notkill that innocent maiden!"
At a signal from Unicorn, four warriors seized the missionary, and,despite his efforts, while treating him most kindly, carried him to thechiefs lodge, where they guarded him. Valentine and Curumilla tried invain to oppose this barbarous and blood-thirsty deed, but the Indiansand trappers, worked on by Bloodson, loudly claimed the execution ofthe law, and threatened to take justice into their own hands.
In vain did Don Miguel and his son implore Unicorn and Bloodson; theycould obtain nothing. At length, Unicorn, wearied by the young man'sprayers, seized Ellen by the hair, plunged his knife into her heart, andthrew her into his arms, shouting:
"Her father killed your sister, and you pray for her. You are a coward."
Valentine, at this unjustifiable deed, hid his face in his hands, andfled. Red Cedar writhed in the bonds that held him. On seeing Ellenfall, a revolution took place in him. Henceforth he only uttered oneword, in a heart-rending voice:
"My daughter! My daughter!"
Bloodson and White Gazelle were implacable, and sternly watched theexecution of the sentence passed upon the prisoners. Red Cedar and hisson did not suffer long, although the former was scalped; the madnessthat had seized on him rendered him insensible to everything.
The man who suffered the most fearful punishment was Fray Ambrosio; thewretch writhed for two-and-twenty hours in unimaginable suffering, eredeath put an end to his fearful tortures.
So soon as the culprits had been executed, Bloodson and White Gazellemounted their horses and galloped away.
They have never been heard of since, and no one knows what has become ofthem.
* * * * *
It was the eighth day after the fearful application of Lynch Law wehave just described, a little before sunset.
All traces of the execution had disappeared. Unicorn's camp was stillestablished at the same spot, for he insisted on his men remainingthere, on account of Madame Guillois's illness rendering the mostabsolute rest necessary for her. The poor old lady felt herself dying bydegrees; day by day she grew weaker, and, gifted with that luciditywhich Heaven at times grants to the dying, she saw death approach with asmile, while striving to console her son for her loss.
But Valentine, who after so many years only saw his mother again toseparate from her for ever, was inconsolable. Deprived of Don Miguel andDon Pablo, who had returned to the Paso del Norte, bearing with them thebody of the hapless Trapper's Daughter, the Trail-hunter wept on thebosom of Curumilla, who, to console him, could only weep with him, andsay--
"The Great Spirit recalls my brother's mother; it is because that heloves her."
A very long sentence for the worthy chief, and which proved theintensity of his grief.
On the day when we resume our narrative, Madame Guillois was recliningin a hammock in front of her hut, with her face turned to the settingsun. Valentine was standing on her right, Father Seraphin on her left,and Curumilla by his friend's side.
The patient's face had a radiant expression, her eyes sparkled vividly,and a light pink flush gilded her cheeks; she seemed supremely happy.The warriors, sharing in the grief of their adopted brother, werecrouching silently near the hut.
It was a magnificent evening; the breeze that was beginning to risegently agitated the leaves; the sun was setting in a flood of vapour,iridescent with a thousand changing tints.
The sick woman uttered at times broken words, which her son religiouslyrepeated.
At the moment when the sun disappeared behind the snowy peaks of themountains, the dying woman rose, as if impelled by an irresistibleforce, she took a calm and limpid glance around, laid her hands on thehunter's head, and uttered one word, with an accent full of strangemelody--
"Farewell!"
Then she fell back--she was dead.
Instinctively all present knelt. Valentine bent over his mother's body,whose face retained that halo of heavenly beauty which is the lastadornment of death; he closed her eyes, kissed her several times, andpressing her right hand which hung out of the hammock in his, he prayedfervently.
The whole night was spent in this way, and no one left the spot. Atdaybreak Father Seraphin, aided by Curumilla, who acted as sacristan,read the service for the dead. The body was then buried, all the Indianwarriors being present at the ceremony.
When all had retired, Valentine knelt down by the grave, and though themissionary and the chief urged on him to leave it he insisted onspending this night also in watching over his dead mother. At daybreakhis two friends returned; they found him still kneeling and praying; hewas pale, and his features were worn; his hair, so black on the eve, hadwhite hairs now mingling with it.
Father Seraphin tried to restore his courage, but the hunter shook hishead sadly at all the priest's pious exhortations.
"What good is it?" he said.
"Oh!" the missionary at length said to him, "Valentine, you, who are sostrong, are now weak as a child; grief lays you low without yourstriking a blow in self-defence. You forget, though, that you do notbelong to yourself."
"Alas!" he exclaimed, "What is left me now?"
"God!" the priest said sternly, as he pointed to the sky.
"And the desert!" Curumilla exclaimed, extending his arm toward therising su
n.
A flame flashed from the hunter's black eye; he shook his head severaltimes, bent a glance full of tenderness on the tomb, and said, in abroken voice--
"Mother, we shall meet again."
Then he turned to the Indian chief.
"Let us go," he said, resolutely.
Valentine was about to commence a new existence. His further adventureswill be described in a new series of stories, each complete in itself,commencing with the "The Tiger Slayer," and the characters runningthrough the "Gold Seekers," the "Indian Chief," and the "Red Track."
THE END.
La loi de lynch. English Page 39