AFTER THE FIGHT.
For more than half an hour the silence of death hovered over the
clearing, which offered a most sad and lugubrious aspect through the
fight we described in the preceding chapter.
At length John Davis, who in reality had received no serious wound, for
his fall was merely occasioned by the shock of the Scalper's powerful
horse, opened his eyes and looked around him in amazement; the fall had
been sufficiently violent to cause him serious bruises, and throw him
into a deep fainting fit; hence, on regaining consciousness, the
American, still stunned, did not remember a single thing that had
happened, and asked himself very seriously what he had been doing to
find himself in this singular situation.
Still, his ideas grew gradually clearer, his memory returned, and he
remembered the strange and disproportioned fight of one man against
twenty, in which the former remained the victor, after killing and
dispersing his assailants.
"Hum!" he muttered to himself, "Whether he be man or demon, that
individual is a sturdy fellow."
He got up with some difficulty, carefully feeling his paining limbs; and
when he was quite assured he had nothing broken, he continued with
evident satisfaction--
"Thank Heaven! I got off more cheaply than I had a right to suppose,
after the way in which I was upset." Then he added, as he gave a glance
of pity to his comrade, who lay dead near him; "That poor Jim was not so
lucky as I, and his fun is over. What a tremendous machete stroke he
received! Nonsense!" he then said with the egotistic philosophy of the
desert; "We are all mortal, each has his turn; to-day it's he, to-morrow
I, so goes the world."
Leaning on his rifle, for he still experienced some difficulty in
walking, he took a few steps on the clearing in order to convince
himself by a conclusive experiment that his limbs were in a sound state.
After a few moments of an exercise that restored circulation to his
blood and elasticity to his joints, completely reassured about himself,
the thought occurred to him of trying whether among the bodies lying
around him any still breathed.
"They are only Indians," he muttered, "but, after all, they are men;
although they are nearly deprived of reason, humanity orders me to help
them; the more so, as my present situation has nothing very agreeable
about it, and if I succeed in saving any of them, their knowledge of the
desert will be of great service to me."
This last consideration determined him on helping men whom probably
without it he would have abandoned to their fate, that is to say, to the
teeth of the wild beasts which, attracted by the scent of blood, would
have certainly made them their prey after dark.
Still it is our duty to render the egotistic citizen of the United
States the justice of saying that, so soon as he had formed this
determination, he acquitted himself conscientiously and sagaciously of
his self-imposed task, which was easy to him after all; for the numerous
professions he had carried on during the course of his adventurous life
had given him a medical knowledge and experience which placed him in a
position to give sick persons that care their condition demanded.
Unfortunately, most of the persons he inspected had received such
serious wounds that life had long fled their bodies, and help was quite
unavailing.
"Hang it, hang it!" the American muttered at every corpse he turned
over, "These poor savages were killed by a master-hand. At any rate they
did not suffer long, for with such fearful wounds they must have
surrendered their souls to the Creator almost instantaneously."
He thus reached the spot where lay the body of Blue-fox, with a wide
gaping wound in his chest.
"Ah, ah! Here is the worthy Chief," he went on. "What a gash! Let us see
if he is dead too."
He bent over the motionless body, and put the blade of his knife to the
Indian's lips.
"He does not stir," he continued, with an air of discouragement; "I am
afraid I shall have some difficulty in bringing him round."
In a few minutes, however, he looked at the blade of his knife and saw
that it was slightly tarnished.
"Come, he is not dead yet; so long as the soul holds to the body, there
is hope, so I will have a try."
After this aside, John Davis fetched some water in his hat, mixed a
small quantity of spirits with it, and began carefully laving the wound;
this duty performed, he sounded it and found it of no great depth, and
the abundant loss of blood had in all probability brought on the state
of unconsciousness. Reassured by this perfectly correct reflection, he
pounded some _oregano_ leaves between two stones, made a species of
cataplasm of them, laid it on the wound, and secured it with a strip of
bark; then unclenching the wounded man's teeth with the blade of his
knife, he thrust in the mouth of his flask, and made him drink a
quantity of spirits.
Success almost immediately crowned the American's tentatives, for the
Chief gave vent to a deep sigh, and opened his eyes almost
instantaneously.
"Bravo!" John exclaimed, delighted at the unhoped for result he had
achieved. "Courage, Chief, you are saved. By Jove! You may boast of
having come back a precious long distance."
For some minutes the Indian remained stunned, looking around him
absently, without any consciousness of the situation in which he was, or
of the objects that surrounded him.
John attentively watched him, ready to give him help again, were it
necessary; but it was not so. By degrees the Redskin appeared to grow
livelier; his eyes lost their vacant expression, he sat up and passed
his hand over his dank brow.
"Is the fight over?" he asked.
"Yes," John answered, "in our complete defeat; that was a splendid idea
we had of capturing such a demon."
"Has he escaped, then?"
"Most perfectly so, and without a single wound, after killing at least a
dozen of your warriors, and cleaving my poor Jim's skull down to the
shoulders."
"Oh!" the Indian muttered hoarsely, "He is not a man, but the spirit of
evil."
"Let him be what he likes," John exclaimed, energetically; "I intend to
fight it out some day, for I hope to come across this demon again."
"May the Wacondah preserve my brother from such a meeting, for this
demon would kill him."
"Perhaps so; as it is, if he did not do so to-day, it was no fault of
his, but let him take care; we may some day stand face to face with
equal weapons, and then--"
"What does he care for weapons? Did you not see that they have no power
over him, and that his body is invulnerable?"
"Hum! That is possible; but for the present let us leave the subject and
attend to matters that affect us much more closely. How do you find
yourself?"
"Better, much better; the remedy you have applied to my wound does me
great good; I am beginning to feel quite comfortable."
"All the better; now try to rest for two or three hours, while I watch
over your sleep; after that, we will consult as to the best way of
getting out of this scrape."
The Redskin smiled on hearing this remark.
"Blue-fox is no cowardly old woman whom a tooth-ache or ear-ache renders
incapable of moving."
"I know that you are a brave warrior, Chief; but nature has limits,
which cannot be passed, and, however great your courage and will may be,
the abundant haemorrhage which your wound has caused you must have
reduced you to a state of extreme weakness."
"I thank you, my brother; those words come from a friend; but Blue-fox
is a Sachem in his nation, death alone can render him unable to move. My
brother will judge of the Chief's weakness."
While uttering these words, the Indian made a supreme effort; fighting
against pain, with the energy and contempt of suffering that
characterize the Red race, he succeeded in rising, and not only stood
firmly on his feet, but even walked several yards without assistance, or
the slightest trace of emotion appearing on his face.
The American regarded him with profound admiration; he could not
imagine, though he himself justly enjoyed a reputation for braver, that
it was possible to carry so far the triumph of moral over physical
force.
The Indian smiled proudly on reading in the American's eyes the
astonishment his performance caused him.
"Does my brother still believe that Blue-fox is so weak?" he asked him.
"On my word, Chief, I know not what to think; what you have just done
confounds me; I am prepared to suppose you capable of accomplishing
impossibilities."
"The Chiefs of my nation are renowned warriors, who laugh at pain, and
for them suffering does not exist," the Redskin said, proudly.
"I should be inclined to believe it, after your way of acting."
"My brother is a man; he has understood me. We will inspect together the
warriors lying on the ground, and then think of ourselves."
"As for your poor comrades, Chief, I am compelled to tell you that we
have no occasion to trouble ourselves about them, for they are all
dead."
"Good! they fell nobly while fighting; the Wacondah will receive them
into his bosom, and permit them to hunt with him on the happy prairies."
"So be it!"
"Now, before all else, let us settle the affair we began this morning,
and which was so unexpectedly broken off."
John Davis, in spite, of his acquaintance with desert life, was
confounded by the coolness of this man, who, having escaped death by a
miracle, still suffering from a terrible wound, and who had regained
possession of his intellectual faculties only a few moments before,
seemed no longer to think of what had occurred, considered the events to
which he had all but fallen a victim as the very natural accidents of
the life he led, and began again, with the greatest freedom of mind, a
conversation interrupted by a terrible fight, at the very point where he
left it. The fact was, that, despite the lengthened intercourse the
American had hitherto had with the Redskins, he had never taken the
trouble to study their character seriously, for he was persuaded, like
most of the whites indeed, that these men are beings almost devoid of
intelligence, and that the life they lead places them almost on a level
with the brute, while, on the contrary, this life of liberty and
incessant perils renders danger so familiar to them that they have grown
to despise it, and only attach a secondary importance to it.
"Be it so," he said presently; "since you wish it, Chief, I will deliver
the message intrusted to me for you."
"My brother will take a place by my side."
The American sat down on the ground by the Chief, not without a certain
feeling of apprehension through his isolation on this battle-field
strewn with corpses; but the Indian appeared so calm and tranquil that
John Davis felt ashamed to let his anxiety be seen, and affecting
carelessness he was very far from feeling, he began to speak.
"I am sent to my brother by a great warrior of the Palefaces."
"I know him; he is called the Jaguar. His arm is strong, and his eye
flashes like that of the animal whose name, he bears."
"Good! The Jaguar wishes to bury the hatchet between his warriors and
those of my brother, in order that peace may unite them, and that,
instead of fighting with each other, they may pursue the buffalo on the
same hunting grounds, and avenge themselves on their common enemies.
What answer shall I give the Jaguar?"
The Indian remained silent for a long time; at length he raised his
head.
"My brother will open his ears," he said, "a Sachem is about to speak."
"I am listening," the American answered.
The Chief went on--
"The words my bosom breathes are sincere--the Wacondah inspires me with
them; the Palefaces, since they were brought by the genius of evil in
their large medicine-canoes to the territories of my fathers, have ever
been the virulent enemies of the Red men; invading their richest and
most fertile hunting grounds, pursuing them like wild beasts whenever
they met with them, burning their callis, and dispersing the bones of
their ancestors to the four winds of Heaven. Has not such constantly
been the conduct of the Palefaces? I await my brother's answer."
"Well," the American said, with a certain amount of embarrassment, "I
cannot deny, Chief, that there is some truth in what you say; but still,
all the men of my colour have not been unkind to the Redskins, and
several have tried to do them good."
"Wah! two or three have done so, but that only goes to prove what I
assert. Let us come to the question we wish to discuss at present."
"Yes, I believe that will be the best," the American replied, delighted
in his heart at not having to sustain a discussion which he knew would
not result in victory to him.
"My nation hates the Palefaces," the Chief continued; "the condor does
not make its nest with the maukawis, or the grizzly bear pair with the
antelope. I, myself, have an instinctive hatred for the Palefaces. This
morning, then, I should have peremptorily declined the Jaguar's
proposals, for how do the wars the Palefaces wage together concern us?
When the coyotes devour each other, the deer rejoice: we are happy to
see our cruel oppressors tearing one another; but now, though my hatred
is equally vivid, I am bound to bury it in my heart. My brother has
saved my life; he helped when I was stretched out on the ground, and the
Genius of Death was hovering over my head; ingratitude is a white vice,
gratitude a red virtue. From this day the hatchet is buried between the
Jaguar and Blue-fox for five succeeding moons; for five moons the
enemies of the Jaguar will be those of Blue-fox; the two Chiefs will
fight side by side, like loving brothers: in three suns from this one,
the Sachem will join the Paleface Chief at the head of five hundred
renowned warriors, whose heels are adorned with numerous coyote tails,
and who form the pick of the nation. What will the Jaguar do for
Blue-fox and his warriors?"
"The Jaguar is a generous Chief; if he is terrible for his enemies, his
hand is always open for his friends; each Apache warrior will receive a
rifle, one hundred charges of powder, and a scalping knife, The Sachem
will also receive in addition to these presents two vicuna skins filled
with fire-water."
"Wah!" the Chief exclaimed, with evident satisfaction, "My brother has
said truly that the Jaguar is a generous Chief. Here is my totem as
signal of alliance, as well as my feather of command."
While thus speaking the Chief drew from his game bag or medicine bag,
which he wore slung, a square piece of parchment, on which was clumsily
drawn the totem or animal emblematic of the tribe, handed it to the
American, who placed it in his bosom; then removing the eagle feather
fixed in his war-lock, he also gave him that.
"I thank my brother the Sachem," John Davis then said, "for having
acceded to my proposal; he will have no cause to repent it."
"A Chief has given his word; but see, the sun is lengthening the shadows
of the trees, the maukawis will soon strike up the evening song; the
hour has come to pay the last duties to the Chiefs who are dead, and
then separate to rejoin our common friends."
"On foot as we are, that appears to me rather difficult," John remarked.
The Indian smiled.
"The warriors of Blue-fox are watching over him," he said.
In fact, the Chief had hardly twice given a private signal, ere fifty
Apache warriors burst into the clearing, and assembled silently around
him.
The fugitives who escaped from the Scalper's terrible arm, soon
collected again; they returned to their camp and announced the news of
their defeat to their comrades, and then a detachment was sent off under
the orders of a subaltern Chief, to look for their Sachem, But these
horsemen, seeing Blue-fox in conference with a Paleface, remained under
covert, patiently waiting till it pleased him to summon them.
The Sachem gave orders to bury the dead. The funeral ceremony then
began, which circumstances compelled them to abbreviate.
The bodies were carefully washed, wrapped in new buffalo robes, and then
placed in a sitting posture in trenches dug for each of them, with their
weapons, bit, and provisions by their side, in order that they might
want for nothing on their journey to the happy hunting grounds, and be
able to mount and hunt so soon as they joined the Wacondah.
When these several rites had been performed, the hunters were filled up,
and covered with heavy stones, lest the wild beasts should grub up and
devour the bodies.
The sun was just disappearing on the horizon, when the Apaches finished
the last duties to their brothers. Blue-fox then walked up to the
hunter, who had hitherto been a silent, if not indifferent, spectator of
the ceremony.
"My brother wishes to return to the warriors of his nation?" he said to
him.
"Yes," the American laconically answered.
"The Paleface has lost his horse, so he will mount the mustang Blue-fox
offers him; within two hours he can have returned to his friends."
John Davis gratefully accepted the present so generously made him,
mounted at once, and, after taking leave of the Apaches, set off at full
speed.
On their side, the Indians, at a signal from their Chief, buried
themselves in the forest and clearing where such terrible events had
occurred, and fell back into silence and solitude.