THE SMUGGLERS.
Three years prior to the events which we have just recorded, that is
to say, about the month of May, 1830, Diego the Vaquero, who at that
period was one of the bravest gauchos on the pampas of Buenos Aires,
was returning to his rancho one evening after a day's hunting, when
suddenly, before he could notice it, a magnificent panther, probably
pursuing him in the tall grass, leaped, with an enormous bound, on his
horse's neck. The animal, startled by this attack, which it was far
from expecting, neighed with pain, and reared so violently that it fell
back on its master, who had not had time to leap on the ground, but was
held down by the weight of his steed.
It was, doubtless, all over with man and horse when Diego, who, in his
desperation, was commending his soul to all the saints in paradise, and
reciting, in a choking voice, all the scraps of prayers which he could
call to mind, saw a long knife pass between his face and the head of
the foetid brute, whose breath he could feel on his forehead.
The panther burst into a frightful howl, writhed, vomited a stream of
black blood, and after a terrible convulsion, which set all the muscles
of his body in action, fell dead by his side.
At the same moment the horse was restored to its trembling feet, and a
man helped the Vaquero to rise, while saying, good-humouredly--
"Come, tell me, comrade, do you think of sleeping here, eh?"
Diego rose, and, with an anxious glance around him, felt all his limbs
to make sure they were intact; then, when he was quite certain that
he was perfectly sound and free from any wound, he gave a sigh of
satisfaction, devoutly crossed himself, and said to his defender,
who, with folded arms and a smile on his lips, had followed all his
movements with the utmost interest--
"Thanks, man. Tell me your name, that I may retain it in my heart along
with my father's."
"Leon," the other answered.
"Leon," the gaucho repeated, "it is well; my name is Diego; you have
saved my life; at present we are brothers, and do with me as you will."
"Thanks," said Leon, affectionately pressing the hard, rugged hand
which the half-breed offered him.
"Brother, where is your rancho?"
"I have none," Leon answered, with a cloud of sorrow over his face.
"You have none? What were you doing all alone, then, in the middle of
the Pampas at this hour of the night?"
The young man hesitated for a moment, and then, regaining his good
spirits, replied--
"Well, if I must confess to you, comrade, I was dying of hunger in the
most philosophical way in the world: I have eaten nothing for two days."
"Caray," Diego exclaimed; "die of hunger! Come with me, brother; we
will not part again; I have some charqui in my rancho. I repeat to you,
you have saved my life, and henceforth all must be in common between
us. You look like a daring fellow, so remain with me."
From this day Leon and Diego never parted again; and the friendship of
these two men grew with time so great that they could not live without
one another; but however great was the intimacy existing between them,
never had a word been exchanged concerning their past life; and this
mutual secret, mutually respected, was the only one that existed
between them.
Diego certainly knew that Leon was a Frenchman, and had also noticed
his great aptitude in bodily exercises, his skill as an excellent
horseman, and, above all, the depth of his ideas and far from ordinary
conceptions.
Recognising of what great use the young man's intellect had been to him
in critical moments to get out of a difficulty, Diego regarded him with
a species of veneration, and endured his moral superiority without even
perceiving it.
With the sublime self-denial of virgin natures whom the narrow
civilization of towns has not degraded, he had grown to regard Leon
as a being placed on his path by Providence, in order that he might
have someone to love; and finding in Leon a perfect reciprocity of
friendship, he felt ready to sacrifice to Leon the life which he owed
him.
On his side, Leon, captivated by the frank advances which the Vaquero
had made him, had gradually come to feel for him a sincere affection,
which was evidenced by a deep and unbounded devotion.
A short time after their meeting, Diego communicated to Leon the plan
he had of going to Chili, and proposed to him to accompany him. The
idle life on the pampas could not suit Leon, who had dreamed of an
active and brilliant existence when he set foot on American soil.
Gifted with an adventurous and enterprising character, he had left his
native land to tempt fortune, and hitherto chance had not favoured his
hopes. As nothing, therefore, prevented him from trying whether Chili
might not be more lucky, he accepted.
One morning, therefore, the pair, mounted on Indian horses, crossed
the pampas, and then, after resting for some days at San Luis de
Mendoza, they entered the passes of the Cordilleras, which they got
through with great difficulties and dangers of every description, and
at length reached their journey's end.
On arriving at Chili, Leon, powerfully supported by Diego, organized
the contraband trade on a vast scale, and a few months later fifty men
obeyed his orders and those of Diego, whom he made his lieutenant. From
this moment Captain Leon Delbès found the mode of life which suited his
tastes.
Now that we have explained the nature of the ties which bound the two
principal characters of our story, we will resume our narrative at
the moment when we left our smugglers in the room which Don Juan y
Soto-Mayor ordered to be got ready for them.
Scarce had the peon left the room ere Leon, after assuring himself that
no one could hear his words, walked up to Diego, who was sitting gloomy
and silent on a folding chair, and said--
"What is the matter with you tonight? Why did you remain so silent? Is
it that General Soto-Mayor--"
"There is nothing the matter with me," the half-breed sharply
interrupted; "but by the way," he added, looking Leon in the face, "you
appear yourself to be suffering from extraordinary agitation."
"You are right; but if you wish to learn the cause, confidence for
confidence, and tell me what you have on your mind."
"Leon, do not question me on this subject. You are not mistaken; I
allow I have been thoughtful and silent ever since I have crossed the
threshold of this house; but do not try to penetrate the motive. It is
not the time yet to tell you the things which you must know some day.
Thanks for the interest you take in my annoyances and my sorrows; but
once again I implore you, in the name of our friendship, do not press
me."
"Since such is the case, brother, I will refrain from any questions,"
Leon answered.
"And now, if you please, tell me why I saw you turn pale and tremble
when a word that fell from the lips of the Señora Inez, and which I did
not catch, struck your ear."
"Brother, do you remember that this morning, after saving from a
certain death the novice of the convent of the Purísima Concepción, I
told you that my heart knew love for the first time in my life?"
"But what is there in common between that girl and Señora Inez?"
"Do you remember also," Leon continued, without answering the Vaquero's
observation, "that I swore to see the maiden again, even if I were
obliged to lay down my life in satisfying my desire?"
"But again I say--"
"Well, know then, brother, that I have learned her name, and it is Doña
Maria y Soto-Mayor."
"What are you saying?"
"And that she is the daughter of our host, Don Juan de Dios-Souza y
Soto-Mayor."
"And you love her?" Diego exclaimed.
"Must I repeat it again?" Leon remarked impetuously.
"Malediction!" said the half-breed.
"Yes, malediction, is it not? for Maria is eternally lost to me; she
will take the veil shortly, and the hopes I entertained of being able
to drag her out of the walls of that convent are blighted."
"To marry her?" Diego remarked, mockingly.
"Nonsense, Leon, my friend: you are mad. What, you, the smuggler, marry
a Señora, the daughter of a gentleman! No, you cannot suppose such a
thing."
"Silence, Diego, silence! for the more that I feel the impossibility of
possessing the girl, the more I feel that I love her."
And the young man, crushed by sorrow, fell into a seat by Diego's side.
"And do you believe," the latter continued, after a moment's silence,
"that there is no hope of delaying her in taking the veil?"
"How do I know? Besides, of what good is it, as you said just now--can
I think of the daughter of General Soto-Mayor? No, all is lost!"
"Remember the Spanish proverb--'Nothing is certain but death and the
tax gatherer.'"
For a moment past, the half-breed's face had become animated with a
singular expression, which would not have escaped Leon, had not the
latter been entirely absorbed in the thought of losing her whom he
loved.
"What do you mean?" he asked Diego.
"Listen patiently, for the question I am going to ask you is intended
to fix an important determination in my mind."
"I am listening," the young man said.
"Do you really love Doña Maria?"
At this question, which might seem, at the least, inopportune after
what Leon had just stated, the latter frowned angrily; but on noticing
the half-breed's serious face, he understood that it was not for the
purpose of making a jest of his despair that Diego had revived the fire
which was burning in his bosom.
"If I do not see her again, I shall die," the young man replied,
simply.
"You shall not die, brother, for within a fortnight she will be at your
knees."
Leon knew the half-breed, and that he was a man who never promised
in vain: hence he did not dare doubt, and merely raised his eyes and
questioned him with a look.
"Within a fortnight she will be at your knees," the half-breed slowly
repeated; "but till then, not a word, not a sign of recollection,
reproach, impatience, or amazement, but passive obedience."
"Thanks, brother," Leon contented himself with answering, as he held
out his hand to Diego, who pressed it in his.
"And now let us sleep, so that tomorrow our foreheads may be less
burning, and we may be able to set to work."
Then, putting out the candles, the two men threw themselves on their
beds, without exchanging another word, for each was anxious to reflect
upon the course he should pursue.
Neither slept: Leon thought of Maria and the means Diego might employ
to fulfil the pledge he had made; while Diego had in his head a
ready-traced plan, whose success appeared to him certain, as it was
connected with a far more dangerous affair.
At daybreak they rose, and kneeling down in the middle of the room,
took each other by the hand, and devoutly said their prayers. Anyone
would have been astonished who had overheard what these two men asked
of God--the God of mercy and goodness! Their prayer ended, they went
down into the garden; the night storm had entirely passed away, the sun
was rising in a flood of transparent vapour, and everything announced a
magnificent day.
Shortly after their arrival, they perceived the general, who came to
meet them with a regular step and a joyous face.
"Well, gentlemen," he shouted to them, so soon as he saw them, "how did
you pass the night?"
"Excellently, general," Leon replied; "and my friend and myself both
thank you sincerely for your kind hospitality."
"At your age a man can sleep anywhere," the general continued, with a
pleasant smile. "Oh, youth!" he added, with a sigh of regret, "happy
time, which flies, alas! too quickly." Then becoming serious; "As for
the slight service which I have had the pleasure of rendering you, you
will disoblige me by thanking me for so simple a thing."
After a few more words from him, dictated by politeness, the three men
walked round the garden several times, and, to Leon's great surprise,
Diego did not allude to their departure; but as the young man did not
know the Vaquero's line of conduct as to the prospects which he nursed,
he waited.
Don Juan was the first to break the silence.
"Gentlemen," he said, stopping at the corner of a shady walk, "be good
enough, I pray, not to take in ill part what I am about to say--you are
smugglers, I believe?"
"Yes, sir," replied Diego, amazed at the old gentleman's perspicuity.
"This discovery does not injure you at all in my opinion," continued
the general, who had noticed the look of surprise exchanged by the
two friends. "I have frequently had dealings with gentlemen of your
profession, and have had always cause to be pleased with them; and I
trust that the relations which may be established between us will prove
advantageous to both parties."
"Speak, sir."
The Vaquero was all ears, and examined the general with a distrust
which the latter did not notice, or feigned not to notice.
"This is the matter, gentlemen. I am obliged, owing to certain family
reasons, to undertake a journey to Valdivia, where my brother Don Louis
resides; now, your arrival at my house has made me think of making the
journey under your escort, and I wish to propose to you, as I shall
take Señora y Soto-Mayor and my whole family with me, that you and your
men should escort us, leaving it to you to fix the price as you think
right."
"General," Leon answered, "you have guessed correctly in regarding us
as smugglers; I have the honour of being the captain of a band of fifty
men, who know how to put down the customs' dues when they are too high;
but you are mistaken in supposing that we can accompany you."
"Why so?" the Vaquero eagerly interrupted, on whose features a strange
gleam of satisfaction had appeared. "It is true that it is not our
habit to undertake business of that nature; but the general has shown
himself too hospitable to us to refuse him our assistance. Captain,
remember, too, that we have something to do within a few days in the
neighbourhood of Valdivia, and hence we shall merely make our journey
the sooner, which is a trifle."
"That is true," muttered the captain, whom a glance of Diego's had told
that he must accept. "I fancied that I must return to Valparaíso; but
what my friend has just said is perfectly correct, so you can dispose
of us as you please."
"In that case, gentlemen," said the general, who had only seen in this
opposition on the part of the captain a mode of demanding a large sum,
"be good enough to step into my study, and while drinking a glass of
Alicante, we will settle money matters."
"We are at your orders."
And all three proceeded to the general's apartments. It was arranged
that, instead of bargaining with an arriero, the captain was to supply
a dozen mules to carry the baggage, and that they should start the
following morning. When this arrangement was made, Leon and Diego asked
the general's permission to go and join their men, and give orders for
the departure; but he would not consent until they had breakfasted.
They therefore waited, and soon found themselves again in the company
of the members of the Soto-Mayor family, as well as of Don Pedro
Sallazar, who had decided on spending the night at the country
house before setting out for Santiago. Leon was dying to turn the
conversation to the Convent of the Purísima Concepción, and could have
most easily done so by telling the event of the previous day; but he
remembered the promise made to Diego, and fearing lest he might commit
some folly injurious to his interests, he held his tongue; still he
learned, on hearing the talk, that the general's major-domo had started
that morning for Valparaíso entrusted with a message for the Señora
Doña Maria.
When breakfast was over, the two friends took leave of their hosts,
and, after finally arranging the hour for starting, they left the
house, and found in the courtyard their horses ready saddled and held
by a peon. At the moment of starting, Don Pedro de Sallazar waved his
hand to them, and disappeared in the direction of Santiago, accompanied
by the general's son.
The two smugglers arrived before midday at the spot where their men,
somewhat alarmed at their prolonged absence, were encamped. It was a
narrow gorge between two lofty mountains, and at a sufficient distance
from the beaten road for the band to be safe from any surprise, of
which there was not much apprehension, by the way, as in this country
smugglers enjoy almost complete immunity, and have only to fear the
excessively rare cases of being caught in the act.
The horses were browsing at liberty, and the men, seated on a hearth
made of two lumps of stone, were finishing their breakfast of charqui
and tortillas. They were mostly men in the prime of life, whose
resolute air sufficiently evidenced the carelessness they felt for
every species of danger.
Belonging to all nations, they formed a whole which was not without
originality, but each of them, whether he were German or Portuguese,
Sicilian or Dutchman, as he found in the existence which he led the
charm of an adventurous life studded with perils, pleasures, and
emotions, had completely forgotten the name of his country, only to
remember the memorable days on which, indulging in his dangerous
profession, he had put the custom house officers to flight, and passed
under their very noses bales of merchandize.
Enemies of a yoke and servitude, under whatever form they might
appear, they obeyed with rigorous exactness the discipline which Leon
Delbès had imposed on them--a discipline which, by the way, allowed
them to do whatever they pleased when not actually engaged with their
smuggling duties. Some were drunkards, others gamblers, and others
libertines; but all ransomed their faults, which they regarded almost
as qualities, by a well-tried courage, and a perfect devotion to Leon
and Diego.
Their dress varied but slightly from that of their chief; all wore a
poncho, which covered their weapons, and the boots of wood rangers,
which, while protecting their legs from the stings of reptiles, left
them perfect liberty of motion. Their hats alone might be regarded as
the distinctive mark either of their nationality or the difference of
their tastes. There were broad-brimmed, pointed, and round hats; every
shape came into strange contact there, from the worn silk hat of Europe
to that of the American Bolivar.
They uttered a shout of joy on perceiving their chiefs, and, eagerly
rising, ran to meet them.
"Good day, gentlemen," Leon said, as he leaped from his horse. "I
am rather behind my time, but you must blame the night storm, which
compelled us to halt on the road. Is there any news?"
"None, captain," they answered.
"In that case listen to me. Ten of you will stay here, and at four
o'clock tomorrow morning proceed with twelve mules to the house of
Don Juan y Soto-Mayor, and place yourselves at the orders of that
gentleman, whom you will accompany to Valdivia." Diego set about
selecting the men whom he thought the best fitted for the expedition;
and after he had done so, Leon addressed the others.
"You will start for Valparaíso and await my orders there; you will
lodge at Crevel's, in the Calle San Agostino, and at Dominique the
Italian's, at the Almendral. Above all," he added, "be prudent, and
do not attract attention; amuse yourselves like good fellows, but do
not quarrel with the señores, or have any fights with the sailors. You
understand me, I suppose?"
"Yes, captain," they all answered.
"Very well. Now I will give each of you five ounces to cover your
expenses, and do not forget that I may want you at any moment, and you
must be ever ready to obey my summons."
He gave them the money, and after repeating his recommendations, he
retired, leaving it to Diego to give the men who were proceeding to
Valparaíso the final instructions which they might need. The smugglers
removed all traces of their meal, and each of them hurried to saddle
his horse. A few minutes later, forty men of the band set out under the
guidance of the oldest among them.
Diego watched them start, and then returned to Leon, who was resting
from his fatigue on a small turf mound, overshadowed by a magnificent
clump of trees. The Vaquero held in his hand the alforjas which he
had taken off his horse; he examined the place where Leon was seated,
and finding it as he wished, he sat down by his side; then taking out
of the bag a clumsy carved earthern pipe, into which he fitted a long
stem, he began to strike a light over a small horn box filled with
burnt rags, which soon caught fire. When his pipe was lighted, he began
smoking silently.
Leon, on seeing these preparations, understood that something important
was about to take place between him and Diego, and waited. At the
expiration of five minutes, the latter passed him his pipe; Leon
drew several puffs and then returned it to him. These preliminaries
completed, Diego began to speak.
"Leon, three years have passed since Heaven brought us together on the
pampas of Buenos Aires; since that moment--and I shall never forget it,
brother--everything has been in common between us--pleasure and pain,
joy and sorrow."
Leon bowed his head in the affirmative, and the half-breed continued:
"Still, there is one point upon which our mouths have ever remained
silent, and it is the one which refers to the life of each of us before
that which we now lead together."
Leon looked at him in amazement.
"It is not a want of confidence," Diego hastily added, "but the slight
interest we felt in cross-questioning each other, which alone is the
cause. Of what use is it to know the past life of a man, if from the
day when you first saw him he has not ceased to be honest and loyal?
Besides, the hours are too short in the pampas for men to dream of
asking such questions."
"What are you coming to?" Leon at length asked.
"Listen, brother. I will not question you about what I care little to
know, but I wish to tell you something you must know. The moment has
arrived to speak; and though the story I have to tell you is gloomy and
terrible, I am accomplishing a duty."
"Speak, then," said Leon.
The half-breed passed his hand over his forehead, and for a moment
collected his recollections. Leon waited in silence.