A DOUBLE DUEL.
Although the Montonero had gained, thanks to the rapidity with which
he travelled, the temperate climate of the Cordilleras, and already,
felt, during the day, considerable heat, the nights were, nevertheless,
cold and even frosty. The traveller was no further concerned about this
fact, than to envelope himself carefully in his poncho, his blankets,
and his pellones, before going to sleep. But, notwithstanding all these
precautions, towards midnight the north wind became so sharp and the
cold so piercing, that Don Zeno awoke, and after a desperate attempt
to get to sleep again, was constrained to admit himself vanquished; he
leaped up, half-frozen, from under his coverings, and proceeded to
seat himself near the half-extinguished fire.
The night, illumined by the pale rays of the moon, was calm and
beautiful; here and there the owlets flitted about, attracted by the
hum of the horn beetles, on which they feed, and which fluttered round
the fire; while the grey owls of the Pampa, gravely perched on the low
branches of the trees, fixed, with a melancholy air, their round eyes
on the encampment of the wanderer. In the distance, in the thickets,
were heard the sad howlings of wolves, with which, at long intervals,
was mingled a sonorous and piercing wail, immediately answered by
another of the same kind in an opposite direction. When this sinister
wail arose on the air, all the cries of the desert were immediately
stilled, and a trembling agitated the thickets under the frightened
steps of the escaping animals, for they recognised the formidable cry
of the cougar. The tyrant of the Pampa was in quest of prey, and was
hunting in company with his family.
Zeno Cabral was too familiar with the sounds of the desert, to trouble
himself with the howlings of the wild beasts, even though they
seemed rapidly to approach the spot that he had chosen for his night
encampment. He contented himself by speaking to his horse, tied a few
paces off, and to soothe the poor animal, whom the growling of the
tigers made to tremble; and he then returned to seat himself near the
fire, giving up the idea of sleep, making a cigarette, and looking
carelessly around him, rather from listlessness than from fear.
We have said that the night was splendid; the sky appeared a dome
of diamonds, and the superb regulation which marked the landscape
here and there, looked like dark masses, the outlines of which were
sweetly brought out by the moonlight. Innumerable glow worms scattered
brilliant sparks among the branches, while millions of invisible
insects hummed or buzzed among the shrubbery.
These natural beauties, joined to the measured sound of the waves of a
large river, which, like a silver ribbon, made its capricious windings
a little distance off, and to the calm majesty of the night, presented
a spectacle which, by degrees, excited the impressionable mind of the
bold Montonero, and plunged him into a melancholy reverie, in which all
his faculties were soon so completely absorbed, that he not only lost
the consciousness of the place in which he was, but of the disagreeable
guests by which he was surrounded. In fact, he gave himself up to those
mocking chimeras which sometimes visit the brain, and make us the sport
of our own imaginations.
The Montonero had been for some time plunged in this reverie, when
he felt himself struck by the same feeling of cold which, two hours
before, had interrupted his sleep.
The young man raised his head, repressing a slight shiver, and wrapping
himself in his poncho he looked around him.
Two men gravely crouched before the fire in front of him looked at him
attentively, while they smoked their tobacco rolled in dry leaves. The
two men were armed, their guns lying on their knees.
Notwithstanding the natural surprise that he manifested, on thus
suddenly perceiving people whom he was far from expecting at that
advanced hour of the night, and especially in the depths of the desert,
the countenance of the Montonero remained impassive.
"Oh! Oh!" said he in Spanish, trying to distinguish through the curtain
of flame that was between them, what sort of people they were with whom
he had to do--whether they were friends or enemies--"You travel late,
señores. No matter, you are welcome to my watch fire: if you are hungry
or thirsty, speak--I have some provisions which I shall be happy to
share with you."
"The palefaces have their ears stopped when their eyes are closed,"
answered one of the strangers; "it is easy to get at them."
"That is true," answered the young man, smiling, for at the first word
he had recognised his interlocutor; "you are right, Cougar; we whites,
however great may be our knowledge of the desert, never reach that
degree of perfection that you possess, and we allow ourselves to be
surprised; but this time, if I have been so, it is by friends whom I am
happy to see, for I was looking for them, and am glad to see them."
"Then," said Gueyma, smiling, "you have no rancour against us in thus
suddenly surprising you?"
"Far from it; besides, do you not know that, in all places, and at all
hours, I shall be charmed to receive your visits? But now comes it that
you find yourselves in these latitudes just at the same time as I?"
"Have you, then, forgotten the meeting that you arranged?" asked the
Cougar.
"Certainly not; but, if my calculations are right, you should have been
here a long time already."
"In fact," pursued Gueyma, "we are three hours behind time."
"It is no reproach, chief, which I address to you; on the contrary,
as I believe you will have already observed, I have had the liveliest
desire to see you," eagerly answered the Montonero. "I repeat that I
have sought you."
"That is well, and the Cougar has been well inspired, when, on seeing
the light of your fire, he induced me to come with him on the lookout."
"I acknowledge the prudence of the wisdom of the Cougar; thanks to him,
we avoid a great loss of time for the realisation of our projects, the
success of which, I with pleasure announce to you, is assured."
"Oh! Do you speak seriously, my brother?" cried Gueyma, with joy.
"You shall soon judge of that; but let us speak of preliminaries. You
have been detained, you say?"
"Yes," answered the Cougar: "in the first place, we were joined by
one of the principal chiefs of our tribe, who, at the head of a small
detachment of warriors, crossed the desert to confirm us in the news
that we had already received, as to the treason of the--"
"Ah?" cried Zeno Cabral. "And that chief was sent to you by--"
"By Tarou Niom himself," said the Cougar; "his name is Arnal," added
he, darting a significant look at the Montonero.
"Arnal!" cried the latter, with a nervous start and a frown.
"My brother knows the chief, then?" asked Gueyma.
"I?" asked Zeno Cabral, with feigned indifference; "My brother is
joking, no doubt; how should I know him?"
"Certainly, that is not to be expected, unless my brother has formerly
traversed the hunting grounds of my tribe."
"I have never turned my horse's head in that direction. The chief has
doubtless returned, then, after having accomplished his mission."
"No; he has remained with as," said the Cougar, "but our troop has
since been increased."
"Other warriors have joined it?"
"No, they are travellers; whites."
"Whites?"
"Yes, six of them."
"Ah," cried the Montonero, with a strange expression, "white travellers
in these parts, at this time of the year, is very singular; perhaps
they are enemies, who have been surprised by you, as I myself have
been."
"No, they are visitors; they have, of their own accord, presented
themselves to us and claimed our aid."
"And?" said he, with ill-concealed anxiety.
"We have received them according to the laws of Indian hospitality;
they are our brothers, and Arnal insisted that we should treat them as
such."
"Confound it!" cried the Montonero, stamping with rage, as he rose.
"Is this news bad, then, for my brother?" asked Gueyma.
But Zeno Cabral had, by a violent effort, already regained
self-possession.
"My brother is deceived," he answered, smiling. "This news does not
concern me in any way. What are these men to me?"
"Two of them are women," slyly remarked the Cougar.
The Montonero feigned not to hear this observation. He turned away to
hide the trouble that it caused him, and, leaning his head forward:
"Do you hear?" he said, making a sign for them to listen.
"We have heard that for some time," answered Gueyma.
"The wild beasts approach; they are roaming about. I do not know how it
is, I feel a great desire to kill them," said the Montonero.
"A desire easy to satisfy," answered the old chief, "The lions will be
here before ten minutes."
"Do you think so?"
"I am sure of it. Listen."
The three men had risen, and, with hands on their firearms, their
bodies leaning forward, their eyes fixed on the thickets, and their
ears on the watch, they remained stationary. No sound was heard but
those undefined noises which are peculiar to the desert during the
night.
Suddenly a trembling and a cracking of branches was heard in the woods
which adjoined the camp. Then, in two or three minutes, the same
trembling was repeated on the opposite side, on the sombre edge of the
forest, and in the low branches of a tree, in the midst of a thicket
of leaves, appeared, brilliant as two fire brands, the eyes of a wild
beast.
The animal, after a moment of fear, advanced a little, throwing
frightened looks to the right and the left. Then he commenced to creep
gently along the branch on which he was placed, and soon all his body
emerged from the shade, and stood out boldly in the light.
It was a cougar, or lion of America, of the most beautiful kind, and
all the maturity of age, as was easy to see by its skin, which, instead
of being of a woolly texture, crossed by little brown streaks, was of
an agreeable and uniform tawny colour, without any admixture. Its ears,
which were thrown back, were black, as well as the end of its tail. Its
length was about seven feet.
It was lying, or rather crouching, on the branch. Its head was placed
on its paws, which were stretched out. Its tail lashed its sides with
force, and its eyes were directed with a strange gaze on the fire
behind which the three men were hidden. After some minutes of this
singular contemplation, the lion opened its mouth tremendously wide,
and uttered a harsh growl. At the same instant a similar growl burst
forth, but so startling and so near, that the three men started, and
became alert in a moment.
At about twenty paces at the most from them, hidden in the same way in
the low branches of a tree, a second cougar, just like the first, fixed
on them his glaring eyes.
The situation became complicated.
"Well," said the Montonero, "we are more happy than we thought. Instead
of one lion, we have two."
"Perhaps we shall have three," answered Gueyma.
"Abundance of good will not hurt us. But, however, that would astonish
me."
"Listen," resumed the chief.
In fact a strong agitation, resembling that of a hasty march in the
thicket, was heard.
"This is not the sound caused by a wild beast," murmured the old chief,
shaking his head. "It is the step of a man."
"A man!" cried Gueyma and the Montonero; "It is impossible."
At the same moment the underwood was divided, and a man leaped into the
midst of the camp.
It was no other than Emile Gagnepain.
His chest was heaving; notwithstanding the cold, his countenance,
perspiring freely, bore witness to the violent exercise which he had
undergone, and the rapid course which he had just made through the
thickets, in the midst of which he had left his hat and even scraps of
his clothes.
He held a double-barrelled gun in his hand. At first, blinded by
the sudden transition from darkness to light, the young man could
distinguish but imperfectly the persons to whom he had so abruptly
introduced himself, but he soon distinguished the two Indians.
"Ah! Pardieu, gentlemen," cried he, getting his breath with difficulty;
"I have been hunting this wild beast for the last three hours; I hope
you will let me kill this magnificent animal."
"Be it so!" courteously answered the two Indians, putting the butt of
their guns to the ground.
"But in case of danger, I shall be ready to come to your aid," said
Zeno Cabral.
The painter turned quickly.
"Ah! It is you, Don Zeno!" said he, giving him his hand. "What a
singular meeting!"
"Very singular!"
"Why does not the animal stir?"
"For a very simple reason--because he fears to do so."
"You think so?"
"Certainly, but be easy; he, or rather they, will soon take courage."
"What do you mean by they?"
"Why, look on this side; here is a second cougar, I think."
"Upon my word, that's true. How shall we kill both?"
"I will aid you."
"You are very good. I confess that I am already slightly embarrassed in
regard to the first, without wishing to tackle the second."
"The second is a female."
"What a misfortune," said the painter laughingly, "to carry trouble
into a household that appears so united! Eh, but," he added, "they are
waking up, I think."
"Attention! They will not be long before they attack us."
The Indian chiefs had remarked with astonishment the recognition
between the two men; but as the time was not propitious for an
explanation, they were contented to exchange a significant look.
Meanwhile, although only ten minutes had passed since the sudden
apparition of the cougars and the unforeseen arrival of the young
Frenchman, the beasts remained passive on their respective branches.
This fact, which may seem extraordinary, ought to be explained.
Although the cougar is the greatest and most powerful carnivorous
animal of South America--committing enormous ravages among the flocks,
and attacking generally all the animals that he meets--he flies away
from man, for whom he has an instinctive horror. It is only when pushed
to the last extremity, and literally to save his own life, that he at
last resolves to face his assailant; but then he becomes terrible,
defends himself with unparalleled desperation, will not retreat an
inch, and only falls when dead.
The two lions, male and female, had at sunset left their den to go in
pursuit of prey. After having traversed the desert in all directions,
they saw the fire or the Montonero's encampment, and, attracted by the
light, they gradually approached it, creeping along with that light
and elegant suppleness which characterises the feline race, bounding
from tree to tree, gliding along the branches. But on seeing the
men motionless and firm before them, they had immediately stopped,
doubtless hoping that they would not be discovered by their implacable
enemy, and apparently contemplating seeking their safety in immediate
flight. But when the hunters had risen and had seized their arms,
the cougars had perceived that all chance of safety had gone, and
they prepared to fight; then, having uttered a roar to give a mutual
warning, they seemed to think it a favourable moment to spring upon the
hunters.
At the cry of warning by the Montonero, Emile had suddenly darted
backward and shouldered his gun.
Almost immediately the two wild animals, as if by mutual agreement,
uttered a roar of anger, and darting at once with a terrible bound,
they threw themselves upon the hunters.
But the latter were on their guard; without retreating a step, they
attacked the animals as they leaped, and seizing their guns by the
barrel, they fought body to body with the animals. It was a terrible
and desperate combat.
Emile, although it was the first time he had found himself an actor
in so dangerous a hunt, and the first time he had seen such awkward
game, exhibited remarkable coolness, not slipping the trigger of his
gun till he had taken very careful aim of his adversary, and then, when
his piece was discharged, he abandoned it to take two pistols from his
girdle.
The two Indians had succeeded in easily overcoming the lioness, which
Gueyma had seriously wounded in the right shoulder, whilst the ball of
the old chief had broken its loins. The animal had fallen nearly dead,
and the last convulsions of its agony were all they had to fear; the
struggle in this direction had not been long.
But as to the lion, it was a very different affair. Although the two
balls of the hunters had pierced his body, his leap had nevertheless
been so well calculated, that he had actually sprung on the Montonero.
The latter, overturned by the shock, had rolled a few paces, horribly
torn, bruised, and half fainting, and consequently not in a position to
defend himself.
The animal had been stunned by the prodigious leap that he had made.
Weakened by the blood that he was losing, and that was flowing in
streams from his wounds, he remained a minute motionless on his
trembling haunches; then uttering a dull growl of rage, and hollowing
the sand with his powerful paws, he seemed to be gathering his strength
to leap again on the enemy, who was stretched on the ground a few paces
before him.
Emile, under these desperate circumstances, consulting only his own
heart and the horrible situation of the Montonero, resolved to save
him even at the peril of his own life. Loading his pistols, he threw
himself boldly between the man and the lion.
The animal, startled and perhaps frightened by the sudden apparition
of this new adversary, who placed himself so boldly at but a few paces
from him, crouched close to the ground, with his ears hanging down, and
looked at him with a malicious air, uttering a dull and sullen growl,
which, with animals of the feline tribe, denotes the last paroxysm of
rage.
"Upon my word," murmured the Frenchman, with a sly smile, looking his
formidable adversary in the face, "this is what I call a splendid duel,
and if I fall, it will at least be under the efforts of a lion--that is
some comfort."
And he burst into such a hearty fit of laughter, that the Indian
chiefs, notwithstanding their habitual self-control, could not repress
a gesture of astonishment. They thought that fright had driven away the
senses of the Frenchman.
But Emile had never been more master of himself; his mind had never
been clearer, or his coolness greater; but Frenchman, and above all
Parisian as he was, the devil-me-care spirit of the gamin had become
paramount, and he would not play the game of life and death without
risking a last joke.
While speaking thus he had coolly raised his pistols, and at the moment
when the lion was nerving himself to spring upon him, he fired.
The animal bounded from the spot, uttering a terrible howl, and fell
dead.
"Upon my word," said the painter, laughing, "I thought it was more
difficult than that; the lion seems to me to have gained a false
reputation, or else he must have considerably degenerated; no matter,
it is very diverting sport."
After this soliloquy, he hastened towards Zeno Cabral, near whom were
the two chiefs.
The former had regained consciousness, and assisted by his friends he
attempted to stand up--ashamed, bold and expert sportsman as he was,
that he had been so rudely overcome by a wild beast.
On seeing the young man, who held out his hand to him smiling, an
expression of gratitude illumined his manly countenance.
"Don Emile," said he, with deep emotion, "once more I owe you my life;
I shall never be able to pay my debt."
"Perhaps, señor," answered the young man significantly.
"Oh!" cried he, earnestly, "I swear to you, Don Emile, by all that is
sacred in the world, that whatever you ask of me, at whatever time, or
in whatever place, I will do it without hesitation, even if it risked
that life which you have twice saved, and which henceforth belongs to
you."
"I rely upon your word, Señor Don Zeno," seriously answered the young
man; "I will remind you of it, if occasion requires."
"You will always find me ready to keep my word."
Too weak to remain longer standing, he seated himself before the fire,
and his friends took their places by his side.