THE PANTHER-KILLER.
Between the Larch-tree hacienda and the Venta del Potrero, just half way
between the two places, or at about forty miles from either, two men
were sitting on the banks of a nameless stream, and conversing, as they
supped on pemmican and a few boiled _camotes_.
These two men were Tranquil, the Canadian, and Quoniam, the Negro.
About fifty yards from them, in a copse of brambles and shrubs, a young
colt about two months old was fastened to the trunk of a gigantic
catalpa. The poor animal, after making vain efforts to break the cord
that held it, had at length recognised the inutility of its attempts,
and had sorrowfully lain down on the ground.
The two men, whom we left young at the end of our prologue, had now
reached the second half of life. Although age had got but a slight
grasp on their iron bodies, a few grey hairs were beginning to silver
the hunter's scalp, and wrinkles furrowed his face, which was bronzed by
the changes of the seasons.
Still, with the exception of these slight marks, which serve as a seal
to ripened age, nothing denoted any weakening in the Canadian; on the
contrary, his eye was still bright, his body equally straight, and his
limbs just as muscular.
As for the Negro, no apparent change had taken place in him, and he
seemed as young as ever; he had merely grown lustier, but had lost none
of his unparalleled activity.
The spot where the two wood rangers had camped was certainly one of the
most picturesque on the prairie.
The midnight breeze had swept the sky, whose dark blue vault seemed
studded with innumerable spangles of diamonds, in the midst of which the
southern cross shone; the moon poured forth its white rays, which
imparted to objects a fantastic appearance; the night had that velvety
transparence peculiar to twilight; at each gust of wind the trees shook
their damp heads, and rained a shower, which pattered on the shrubs.
The river flowed on calmly between its wooded banks, looking in the
distance like a silver riband, and reflecting in its peaceful mirror the
trembling rays of the moon, which had proceeded about two-thirds of its
course.
So great was the silence of the desert, that the fall of a withered
leaf, or the rustling of a branch agitated by the passage of a reptile,
could be heard.
The two men were conversing in a low voice; but, singularly enough with
men so habituated to desert life, their night encampment, instead of
being, according to the invariable rules of the prairie, situated on
the top of a hillock, was placed on the slope that descended gently to
the river, and in the mud of which numerous footprints of more than a
suspicious nature were encrusted, the majority belonging to the family
of the great Carnivora.
In spite of the sharp cold of night, and the icy dew which made them
tremble, the hunters had lit no fire; still they would assuredly have
derived great comfort from warming their limbs over the genial flames;
the Negro especially, who was lightly attired in drawers that left his
legs uncovered, and a fragment of a zarapé, full of holes, was trembling
all over.
Tranquil, who was more warmly attired in the garb of Mexican Campesinos,
did not appear to notice the cold at all; with his rifle between his
legs, he gazed out into the darkness, or listened to any sound
perceptible to him alone, while he talked to the Negro, disdaining to
notice either his grimaces or the chattering of his teeth.
"So," he said, "you did not see the little one to-day Quoniam?"
"No, no, I have not seen her for two days," the Negro answered.
The Canadian sighed.
"I ought to have gone myself," he went on; "the girl is very solitary
there, especially now that war has let loose on this side all the
adventurers and border-ruffians."
"Nonsense! Carmela has beak and nails; she would not hesitate to defend
herself if insulted."
"Confusion!" the Canadian exclaimed, as he clutched his rifle, "If one
of those Malvados dared to say a word--"
"Do not trouble yourself thus, Tranquil; you know very well that if any
one ventured to insult the Querida Niña, she would not want for
defenders. Besides, Lanzi never leaves her for a moment, and you are
aware how faithful he is."
"Yes," the hunter muttered, "but Lanzi is only a man after all."
"You drive me to desperation with the ideas which so unreasonably get
into your head."
"I love the girl, Quoniam."
"Hang it, and I love her too, the little darling! Well, if you like,
after we have killed the jaguar, we will go to the Potrero--does that
suit you?"
"It is a long way from here."
"Nonsense! three hours' ride at the most. By the bye, Tranquil, do you
know that it is cold? And I am getting literally frozen; cursed animal!
I wonder what it is doing at this moment; I daresay it is amusing itself
with wandering about instead of coming straight here."
"To be killed, eh?" Tranquil said, with a smile. "Hang it all! Perhaps
it suspects what we have in store for it."
"That is possible, for those confounded animals are so cunning. Hilloah!
the colt is quivering--it has certainly scented something."
The Canadian turned his head.
"No, not yet," he said.
"We shall have a night of it," the Negro muttered, with an ill-tempered
look.
"You will ever be the same, Quoniam--impatient and headstrong. Whatever
I may tell you, you obstinately refuse to understand me; how many times
have I repeated to you that the jaguar is one of the most cunning
animals in existence? Although we are to windward, I feel convinced it
has scented us. It is prowling cunningly around us, and afraid to come
too near us; as you say, it is wandering about without any apparent
object."
"Hum! Do you think it will carry on that game much longer?"
"No, because it must be beginning to grow thirsty; three feelings are
struggling in it at this moment--hunger, thirst, and fear; fear will
prove the weakest, you may be assured; and it is only a question of
time."
"I can see it; for nearly four hours we have been on the watch."
"Patience; the worst is over, and we shall soon have some news, I feel
assured."
"May Heaven hear you, for I am dying of cold; is it a large animal?"
"Yes, its prints are wide, but, if I am not greatly mistaken, it has
paired."
"Do you think so?"
"I could almost bet it, it is impossible for a single jaguar to do so
much mischief in less than a week; from what Don Hilario told me, it
seems that ten head of the Ganada have disappeared."
"In that case," Quoniam said, rubbing his hands gleefully, "we shall
have a fine hunt."
"That is what I suppose; and it must have whelps to come so near the
hacienda."
At this moment a hoarse bellowing, bearing some slight resemblance to
the miauling of a cat, troubled the profound silence of the desert.
"There is its first cry," said Quoniam.
"It is still a long way off."
"Oh, it will soon come nearer."
"Not yet; it is not after us at this moment."
"Who else, then?"
"Listen."
A similar cry to the first, but coming from the opposite side, burst
forth at this moment.
"Did I not tell you," the Canadian continued, quietly, "that it had
paired?"
"I did not doubt it. If you do not know the habits of tigers, who
should?"
The poor colt had risen; it was trembling all over, half dead with
terror, and with its head buried between its front legs, it was standing
up and uttering little plaintive cries.
"Hum!" Quoniam said, "poor innocent brute, it understands that it is
lost."
"I hope not."
"The jaguar will strangle it."
"Yes, if we do not kill the brute first."
"By Jabus!" the Negro said, "I confess I should not be sorry if that
wretched colt escaped."
"It will do so," the hunter answered; "I have chosen it for Carmela."
"Nonsense! Then why did you bring it here?"
"To make it used to the tiger."
"Well, that is an idea! Then I need not look any longer over there?"
"No, only think of the jaguar which will come on your right, while I
take charge of the other."
"That's agreed."
Two other louder roars burst forth almost simultaneously.
"The beast is thirsty," Tranquil remarked; "its anger is aroused, and it
is coming nearer."
"Good! shall we get ready?"
"Wait a while, our enemies are hesitating; they have not yet reached
that paroxysm of rage which makes them forget all prudence."
The Negro, who had risen, sat down again philosophically.
A few minutes passed thus. At intervals the night breeze, laden with
uncertain rumour, passed over the hunters' heads, and was lost in the
distance like a sigh.
They were calm and motionless, with the eye fixed on space, the ear open
to the mysterious noises of the desert, the finger on the rifle-trigger,
ready at the first signal to face the still invisible foe, whose
approach and imminent attack they, however, instinctively divined.
All at once the Canadian started, and stooped down to the ground.
"Oh!" he said, as he rose with marks of terrible anxiety, "What is
taking place in the forest?"
The roar of the tiger burst forth like a clap of thunder.
A horrible shriek responded to it, and the wild gallop of a horse was
heard, approaching at headlong speed.
"Quick! Quick!" Tranquil shouted, "Someone is in danger of death--the
tiger is on his trail."
The two hunters rushed intrepidly in the direction of the roars.
The whole forest seemed quivering; nameless sounds issued from the
hidden lairs, resembling at one moment mocking laughter, at another
cries of agony.
The hoarse miauling of the jaguars went on uninterruptedly. The gallop
of the horses which the hunters heard at first seemed multiplied and
issuing from opposite points.
The panting hunters still ran on in a straight line, bounding over
ravines and morasses with wonderful speed; the terror they felt for the
strangers whom they wished to help gave them wings.
Suddenly a shriek of agony, louder and more despairing than the former,
was heard a short distance off.
"Oh!" Tranquil shouted, in a paroxysm of madness, "It is she! It is
Carmela!"
And, bounding like a wild beast, he rushed forward, followed by Quoniam,
who, during the whole wild race, had never left him a hair's breadth.
Suddenly a deadly silence fell over the desert--every noise, every
rumour, ceased as if by enchantment, and nothing could be heard save the
panting of the hunters, who still ran on.
A furious roar uttered by the tigers burst forth; a crashing of branches
agitated an adjoining thicket, and an enormous mass, bounding from the
top of the tree, passed over the Canadian's head and disappeared; at the
same instant a flash burst through the gloom and a shot was heard,
answered almost immediately by a roar of agony and a shriek of horror.
"Courage, Niña, courage!" a masculine voice exclaimed, a short distance
off, "You are saved!"
The hunters, by a supreme effort of their will, increased their speed,
which was already incredible, and at length entered the scene of action.
A strange and terrible sight then offered itself to their
horror-stricken gaze.
In a small clearing a fainting woman was stretched out on the ground,
by the side of a ripped-up horse, which was struggling in the final
convulsions.
This female was motionless, and appeared to be dead.
Two young tigers, crouching like cats, fixed their ardent eyes upon her,
and were preparing to attack her; a few paces further on a wounded tiger
was writhing on the ground with horrid roars, and trying to leap on a
man, who, with one knee on the ground, with his left arm enveloped in
the numerous folds of a zarapé, and the right armed with a long machete,
was resolutely awaiting its attack.
Behind the man, a horse, with outstretched neck, smoking nostrils and
laid-back ears, was quivering with terror, while a second tiger, posted
on the largest branch of a larch tree, fixed its burning glances on the
dismounted rider, while lashing the air with its tail, and uttering
hoarse miauls.
What we have taken so long to describe, the hunters saw at a glance;
quick as lightning the bold adventurers selected their parts, with a
look of sublime simplicity.
While Quoniam leaped on the tiger cubs, and seizing them by the scurf,
dashed their brains out against a rock, Tranquil shouldered his rifle,
and killed the tigress at the moment when she was leaping on the
horseman. Then turning with marvellous speed he killed the second tiger
with the butt of his rifle, and laid it stiff at his feet.
"Ah!" the hunter said, with a feeling of pride, as he rested his rifle
on the ground, and wiped his forehead, which was bathed in a cold
perspiration.
"She lives!" Quoniam shouted, who understood what agony his friend's
exclamation contained; "Fear alone made her faint, but she is otherwise
unhurt."
The hunter slowly took off his cap, and raised his eyes to heaven.
"Thanks, O God!" he murmured, with an accent of gratitude impossible to
render.
In the meanwhile, the horseman, so miraculously saved by Tranquil, had
walked up to him.
"I will do the same for you, some day," he said, as he held out his
hand.
"It is I who am your debtor," the hunter answered, frankly; "had it not
been for your sublime devotion, I should have arrived too late."
"I have done no more than another in my place."
"Perhaps so. Your name, brother?"
"Loyal Heart. Yours?"
"Tranquil. We are friends for life and death."
"I accept, brother. And now let us attend to this poor girl."
The two men shook hands for a second time, and went up to Carmela, on
whom Quoniam was lavishing every imaginable attention, though unable to
recall her from the profound faint into which she had fallen.
While Tranquil and Loyal Heart took the Negro´s place, the latter
hastily collected a few dried branches and lit a fire.
After a few minutes, however, Carmela faintly opened her eyes, and was
soon sufficiently recovered to explain the cause of her presence in the
forest, instead of being quietly asleep in the Venta del Potrero.
This story, which, in consequence of the maiden's weakness, and the
poignant emotions she had endured, it took her several hours to
complete, we will tell the reader in a few words in the next chapter.