AFTER THE COMBAT.
We left the unhappy relics of the caravan suffering from the impression
which the fatal result of their struggle with the Indians produced on
them. At the moment when young Don Juan made his appearance in the camp
a triple exclamation of joy, interest, and surprise greeted him.
"My son! my Juan!" the general exclaimed, sobs choking his voice.
"My dear colonel," said Don Pedro, "Heaven be praised that you are
safe!"
"Ah!" muttered Leon, whom the arrival of the young man aroused from the
despondency into which the disappearance of the maidens had plunged
him.
The colonel rushed weeping into his father's arms, who showed him the
body of his murdered wife.
"You arrive too late, my son! This is the work of the Indians."
"My mother!" the young man said, as he fell on his knees before the
corpse.
"Yes, your mother! who died beneath their blows, while your sisters
have been torn from me for ever."
"What do you say, father?"
"The truth," Don Pedro remarked. "Your sisters have been carried off,
in spite of all the efforts we made to oppose it."
"Oh, father! father!" was all that Don Juan could answer, as he gave
the old gentleman a look of painful regret.
The old general's features were frightfully contracted by the crushing
grief that oppressed his heart as a husband and father, and yet,
overcoming it by the strength of his will, he seized his son's hand:
"Don Juan, thirty years of happiness have passed since the day when
the wife whom I lament for the first time laid her hand in mine, and
now Heaven has taken her from me again! Two children, whom I love
as I love you, Juan, were, with you, the fruits of that union, and
Heaven has allowed them to be torn from my side! Still, I bow before
His omnipotent will, because I am a Christian, and in the midst of my
profound affliction, you are left to me, my son, to punish the cowards
who attack women when they have men to face them. Don Juan, will you
avenge your mother and sisters?"
The spectacle offered by this scene was very painful. Old Don Juan,
bareheaded, was striving to appear calm, but the heavy tears that fell
on his grey moustache were a flagrant contradiction of the resignation
which he affected. Behind the old man's studied countenance could be
discerned an immense grief, which was betrayed by the very violence of
the stoicism which he displayed. Choked by sobs, the colonel remained
dumb to his father's exhortations.
"Have you understood what I demand of you?" Don Juan again said to his
son.
"Yes, father," the latter at length replied. "Oh!" he added, "why was I
not here to defend them? but the scoundrels kept me back."
"Who did?" Don Pedro asked; "have you not come from Santiago?"
"No, general; and it was within an ace that I never saw the light of
day again."
"What has happened, then?"
"In the environs of Talca, while I was travelling post haste in the
hope of joining you on the road, I was made prisoner by an Indian
party, whose presence I was far from suspecting. My lancero was put to
death after one of their barbarous ceremonies, and I was preparing to
undergo the same fate, when this night I was suddenly set at liberty by
the order of an Indian chief of the name of Tahi-Mari, whom I did not
see."
"Tahi-Mari!" the old general immediately interrupted him. "What! there
is still a man bearing that name, and you owe your liberty to him? Oh!
he must, in that case, be meditating some treachery, for a Tahi-Mari
would have killed you, in order to enjoy the sight of your agony."
"My father, calm yourself," Don Juan remarked.
"General," Leon said at length, who had paid great attention to the
young man's words, "whatever may be the motive which caused the man who
liberated the colonel to act so, we must take advantage of the help
which he is able to give us, in order to escape from the wood."
"My daughters! my daughters!" the old gentleman exclaimed, "must I then
give up all hope of seeing them again?"
"Oh!" said Don Pedro, "we must follow up the track of these accursed
Indians, or--no, we will hasten to Valdivia, and once arrived there, I
will organize an expedition."
"That is not the way to find them again," Leon remarked, anxiously.
"What do you mean?" Don Pedro asked.
"Nothing--except that you will lose your time in sending an army
against the Indians: the two Señoras are at this moment secure among
some tribe that will sedulously keep them at a distance from the spot
where your troops are fighting."
"In that case they are lost!" General Soto-Mayor exclaimed, wildly.
"Perhaps not," Leon answered, struck by a sudden inspiration.
"Oh, sir!" the old gentleman continued, "if you suspect the spot where
they are, speak--fix yourself the sum I am to pay you for such a
service, and I will pay it. Stay, sir; yesterday I was rich, powerful,
and honoured; today I am only a poor old man, whose heart is broken;
but I swear to you on my honour as a gentleman, that if you restore me
my daughters, I will love you as a son, and will bless you with tears
of joy and gratitude."
On seeing the old general so crushed by despair, Leon felt himself
moved by a pity and compassion which he did not attempt to check.
"I only ask your esteem, general, if I succeed."
"Speak, then, sir," Don Juan de Soto-Mayor and Don Pedro said
together; "do you really think that you can place us on the track of
the ravishers?"
A ray of hope had illumined the old man's heart on hearing Leon speak
in such a way as to suggest a possibility of finding the maidens again,
and he awaited with feverish anxiety the captain's answer, who kept
silence, and seemed plunged in deep reflection. Still, as Leon seemed
to be reflecting on the weight of the words which he was going to
utter, and whose meaning might cause those who listened to him either
an immense consolation or a bitter deception, neither of the two
gentlemen dared to interrupt him.
The fact was that Leon was asking himself whether he could undertake
the liberation of the maidens. He had but one resource, that of going
to find Tahi-Mari, and threatening to kill himself in his presence,
unless he restored to the father the daughters whom he was bewailing.
Assuredly, after the conversation which had caused the separation
between the captain and Diego, it was at least a bold step to think
of imploring the Inca's clemency again; but since the latter had
voluntarily broken the bonds which held young Don Juan captive, it
was but reasonable to assume that Diego was animated by a different
purpose. Perhaps he had renounced, if not his vengeance, still that
which he had selected in vowing the death of all the Soto-Mayors. And
then, again, if he thirsted for victims, had not the general's beloved
wife been killed by Indians under his orders?
Leon, while revolving all these arguments, did not doubt but that the
maidens were in the power of Tahi-Mari, and either that he considered
them sufficient to feel certain of entire success, or more probably
that the desire he had of saving Maria made him mentally smooth down
all difficulties, and he resolved to attempt the adventure with a firm
determination to die if he failed.
"I cannot put you on the track of the Indians who have carried off the
Señoras," he at length answered the generals; "but I pledge myself to
restore them to you."
"How?" Don Pedro Sallazar asked.
Don Juan contented himself with raising his hand to Heaven, and calling
down blessings on the young man.
"By starting alone in search of them," Leon said, "while the few men
left me continue to escort you to Valdivia."
"Alone! But why cannot we accompany you?" Don Pedro resumed, in whom
the feeling of distrust which he had already displayed to the captain
was again aroused.
"That is true," Don Juan said, in his turn. "Guide us to these
villains, since you know where to find them, and although I am old,
I will follow you with all the ardour of youth, for I feel within me
the strength to overcome all dangers for the sake of tearing my poor
children from the hands of these cowardly ravishers."
"Do you think, sir," said the young colonel, who had just kissed his
mother's icy forehead, "that we would leave to others the duty of
avenging us?"
"In that case, sir, it is impossible; your duty calls you, Don Pedro,
to Valdivia, and you would not have time to carry out the expedition
which I hope to bring to a successful result. You," the young man
continued, addressing General Soto-Mayor, "although your heart may
bleed at it, must give up all thought of accompanying me, for ere we
had reached the spot where I believe the Señoras to be, fatigue would
exhaust your strength, and you would find it impossible to follow me."
"But, sir--" the colonel remarked.
"Pray do not insist, sir," said Leon; "for once again I repeat that, if
you wish me to succeed, you must let me act as I think proper."
"What do you propose doing, Leon, that you are afraid of letting us be
witnesses of it?" Don Pedro observed haughtily.
"The same as I did when the Indians attacked us," the captain answered,
who felt anger flush his face on remarking the insolent expression
which the speaker's countenance had assumed--"risk my life in the
service of those to whom I have promised assistance and succour."
"Sir!"
"Yes," Leon continued; "for the rude task I am about to undertake
demands utter self-denial; manhunting on the llanos and Pampas requires
more than courage, for cunning and craft are needed, and if I refuse
your help in this expedition, it is because your presence would impede
my progress. Alone, I am certain of joining Tahi-Mari, but with you we
should all be lost."
A feverish excitement had seized on the young man, who seemed most
anxious to efface the suspicions of which he was the object.
"I have lived among the Indians who attacked us, and know their strange
manners and customs. At this very moment, the forests are full of
invisible eyes that watch and spy us; if we advance in a body toward
the spot where they are, we may be certain of being all massacred.
Believe me, in order to enter their encampment, I must glide like
a snake through the lianas that grow in the forest. Such is the
reason, gentlemen, why I refuse to let you accompany me, for you are
ignorant of their infernal skill. And now I am at your disposal: if you
absolutely insist on following me, I am at your orders; but, in that
case, I answer for nothing, for we shall have every unfavourable chance
against us."
These few words, uttered with an accent of conviction and frankness
which could not be suspected, produced on the mind of the three men a
favourable impression; no further objection was raised, and Leon was
left at liberty to act as he pleased. Once the four gentlemen were
agreed on this point, they had to turn their attention to the burial of
the dead, and collecting the mules and horses, which the cries of the
Indians and the gleam of the flames had terrified and driven from the
camp.
All set to work: while Don Pedro gave orders to his lanceros to restore
a little order among the bales and other articles, Leon gave a signal
to two of his men, who began digging a grave at the foot of a pine tree
with their machetes. It was intended to receive the mortal remains of
the Señora Soto-Mayor. Another, somewhat larger, was dug a few paces
off in which to bury pell-mell the bodies of the Spaniards and Indians
killed during the fight. After this melancholy task was completed, Leon
went up to the Señora's corpse, and prepared to wrap it in a poncho
before laying it in the earth.
"No one must touch that body," old Don Juan exclaimed as he dashed upon
it with incredible speed, "for it is mine."
And, thrusting Leon away, he called his son, and both, their faces
inundated with tears, commenced the melancholy duty. The old man's
chest heaved under the pressure of the sobs which he tried in vain to
stifle. Long after the body had disappeared under the woollen poncho
that covered it, the general was unable to depart from the spot where
lay the remains of her who had been dearest to him in the world.
At length Leon made an effort, and breaking off the affecting scene,
he with the help of Don Pedro, raised the corpse, which he placed in
the grave in spite of the final convulsions of grief on the part of Don
Juan, who clung to the body from which he was unable to separate. Then
came the turn of the dead friends and foes who encumbered the ground.
A deep silence had presided over this mournful ceremony; two branches
of trees formed into a cross were placed over either tomb, and all was
ended. During this time Wilhelm the smuggler, whom we have already
introduced to the reader, and who had started with one of his comrades
in search of the mustangs and mules, returned to the camp, bringing
back the intelligent animals, which had come up of their own accord on
his signal.
All was soon ready for a start, but one thing still troubled Leon--the
difficulty of transporting the wounded. One of the smugglers had his
arm broken by a bullet, and was suffering atrocious pain; a lancero had
a contusion on the head, and two peons were wounded in the legs. The
fatigue of the journey might prove most injurious to them.
Don Pedro himself, in spite of the firmness he displayed, was suffering
severely from the gunshot wound in his chest; and although, thanks
to the medical knowledge of Leon, who, accustomed to see blood flow
in the frequent fights which he and his men carried on against the
custom-house officers, was enabled to dress a wound, each of the men
injured by the Indians had received the first necessary attention,
they could not venture to travel for any length of time without danger.
Still it was absolutely necessary to get out of the difficulty, and
after selecting the horses whose pace was the easiest, a sort of litter
made of thongs, skins, and ponchos was laid on their backs, and the
wounded were hoisted on them, with exhortations to remain patient till
they reached Valdivia, where they would find repose and attention.
Once these arrangements were made, Leon counted the hearty men left of
his comrades, and ordered three to escort the two generals and Colonel
Don Juan, along with Don Pedro's lanceros; then turning to the other
five, he said to them--
"My friends, I shall require you to second me in what I am going to
undertake; we are going to rescue from the Indians General Soto-Mayor's
two daughters."
"What are we to do?" the smugglers asked; "we are ready."
"Wilhelm," said Leon, addressing one of them, "and you, Harrison, will
come with me."
"Very good, captain."
"You others," he continued, pointing to the other men who were awaiting
his instructions, "will return at once to Valparaíso; the road is a
long one, but you must cover it with the greatest promptitude, and I
reckon on your punctuality."
"You can."
"In eight days we shall be at Valparaíso."
"Very good. So soon as you arrive, you will collect the band, and if
Crevel has at his disposal twenty resolute fellows, you will enrol
them, and I will give you the money for the purpose; but be very
careful only to take bold companions like yourselves, and wood rangers
accustomed to a life on the Pampas. You understand me?"
"Yes, captain," said Hernandez, a tall fellow, with a hangdog face and
of herculean stature, "you can feel perfectly assured."
"And where is the band to go?" his comrade Joaquin asked, as he twisted
his black moustache.
"You will return here at full speed."
"Very good, captain," Hernandez again said; "but are you going to
encamp here till we come?"
"No. Harrison alone will be here, and lead you to the spot which I
shall inform him of."
"All right."
Hernandez, Joaquin, and Enrique took leave of the party, and soon found
themselves on the road that led to Valparaíso, while the three men told
off to serve as an escort to the generals only awaited an order from
the latter to place themselves at their disposal.
All at once General Soto-Mayor addressed Leon, who was watching all
that went on.
"We are going," the old gentleman said, as he took a parting glance at
his wife's tomb; "and I bear with me the assurance which you have given
me that you will start at once in search of my daughters."
"You can reckon on it, general; all that it is humanly possible to do I
will do, and I hope to have succeeded within two months."
"May Heaven hear you! For my part, so soon as I arrive at Valdivia, I
will obtain, with the help of General Don Pedro, all the information
that may serve to discover the spot where they are; for I suspect that
the Indians are concentrated in the vicinity of that town, the capture
of which would be of such great utility to them."
"I told you, general, that I not only have the means to learn where
they are, but also to bring them back."
"But, in that case, and if Heaven permit you to find them, how shall I
be informed of it, and whither will you take them?"
"War is declared," Leon answered, "and possibly within a week the
communications with Valdivia will be interrupted. It would, therefore,
be the height of imprudence to try and join you in that town."
"That is true, great Heavens! But in that case what is to be done?"
"A very simple thing; so soon as I have succeeded in rescuing them
from the Indians, I will take them both to the convent of the Purísima
Concepción at Valparaíso."
"Yes, you are right; that is the best place for them."
"In two months, then, they will be there, or I shall be dead."
"Thanks," said the old gentleman, as he held out his hand to the young
man, who pressed it in his.
A quarter of an hour later, the little party was proceeding toward
Valdivia, and the only persons left in camp were Leon, Harrison,
Wilhelm, and Giacomo.