THE SCALP.
It was about ten o'clock at night. It was cold and foggy; the wind
whistled violently, and heavy black clouds coming from the south
dropped heavy rain upon the ground. Between Valparaíso and Rio Claro
--that is to say, in the gorge which had many times served as a refuge
for the smugglers, and which our readers are already acquainted
with--Tahi-Mari indolently lying at the foot of a tree, was rolling
a papelito in his fingers, while lending an attentive ear to the
slightest sounds which the gust conveyed to him and at times darting
glances around him which seemed trying to pierce the obscurity.
"Ten o'clock already," he said, "and Leon not yet arrived: what can
detain him? It is not possible that he can have forgotten the hour of
our meeting. I will wait longer," he added, as he drew his mechero from
his pocket and lit his cigarette, "for Leon must come back to me--he
must absolutely."
Suddenly a sound so light that only an Indian's ear could seize it,
crossed the space.
"What is that?" Diego asked himself.
He rose cautiously, and after concealing his horse in a dense thicket,
hid himself behind the trunk of an enormous tree close by. The sound
gradually drew nearer, and it was soon easy to recognise the gallop
of a horse at full speed. A few minutes later a rider turned into the
clearing; but he had not gone a few yards when his horse stumbled
against a stone, tottered, and in spite of the efforts of the man on
its back, slipped with all four feet, and fell.
"Der Teufel! Carajo! Sacrebleu!" Wilhelm shouted, as he fell, borrowing
from all the languages he spoke the expressions best adapted to render
the lively annoyance which he felt at the accident which had happened
to him.
But the German was a good horseman, and the fall of the horse did not
at all take him unawares. He freed his feet from the stirrups and found
himself on his legs. Still, on looking around him, he noticed that the
clearing which was deserted on his arrival, had become peopled, as if
by enchantment, by some fifty Indians, who seemed to have sprung out of
the ground.
"The deuce!" thought Wilhelm; "I fancy there will be a row, and I am
afraid that I shall come off second best."
At this moment a shrill whistle was heard, and the Indians disappeared
so rapidly that the German rubbed his eyes to see whether he was awake.
"Hilloh!" he asked himself, "is this an apparition, and are they demons
or men?"
Then, seeing that he was really alone, he busied himself with raising
his horse.
"There," he continued, when the animal was on its legs again, "I will
wait till Señor Diego arrives. Plague take the spot; it does not appear
to me so sure as formerly, and our ex-lieutenant might have chosen
another."
"Here I am, Wilhelm!" Diego said, suddenly, as he stood before the
smuggler.
"Well, I am not sorry for it, lieutenant," the German answered,
phlegmatically.
"What do you want here?" the other asked him, sharply.
"I have come because the captain ordered me to do so, that is all."
"Why did Leon send you in his place? I was expecting him here."
"Ah, that is another matter, and you must not be angry with him."
"But," Diego continued, biting his moustache savagely, "what does he
expect me to do with you?"
"Hang it all--whatever you like."
"But where is he?"
"He is arrested."
"How!--arrested?"
"Yes; and it was before being imprisoned in the Calabozo, that he
ordered me to go in all haste and warn you."
"Arrested!" the half-breed said, stamping his foot; "that scoundrel of
a Crevel has betrayed me, and shall pay dearly for it."
"Crevel, do you say, lieutenant? Well, it is possible; and yet I do not
think so."
"I am sure of it."
"Why so?"
"I sent him a letter which he was to deliver to Leon, and in which I
warned the latter of the danger that menaced him."
"A letter, you say; and when did you send it?"
"This morning early."
"Ah!" said Wilhelm, "I have it."
And he told Diego how--as Leon had gone out when the letter arrived at
Crevel's--the latter asked him to deliver it to the captain, and that
when he received it, he put it in his pocket without reading, absorbed
as he was in his conversation with General Soto-Mayor.
"What! is the general at Valparaíso?" Diego asked, interrupting the
smuggler.
"Yes, lieutenant; but he will not be so for long."
"Why not?"
"Because the governor had just given him command of the new body of
volunteers, who are going to reinforce the Chilian army at Santiago."
"That is well."
Tahi-Mari whistled in a peculiar way, and an Indian appeared. The
chief of the Molucho army said a few words to him in a low voice. The
Indian bowed as a sign of obedience, and, gliding through the herbage,
disappeared. Wilhelm looked on at the scene, whistling to give himself
a careless air. When the Indian had gone, Tahi-Mari turned to him, and
laid his hand on his shoulder.
"Wilhelm," he said to him, "you love your captain, do you not, my lad?"
While uttering these words his searching glance was plunged into the
smuggler's eyes, as if questioning his thoughts.
"I love the captain? Der Teufel! do you doubt it, lieutenant?"
"No! that will do; you are an honest fellow."
"All right."
"But listen to me. Will you save him?"
"Certainly. What am I to do for that?"
"I will tell you. Where is Leon's band?"
"At Valparaíso."
"How many men does it consist of at this moment?"
"Forty."
"Would they all die for their captain?"
"I should think so."
"In that case, you will assemble them tomorrow at Crevel's."
"At what hour?"
"Eleven o'clock at night."
"Settled."
"Pay attention that Crevel does not open the door to any persons who do
not rap thrice, and say Diego and Leon."
"I will open it myself."
"That will be better still."
"After that, what are we to do?"
"Nothing; the rest is my business: remember my instructions, and be
off."
"Enough, lieutenant."
Wilhelm remounted his horse and set out on his return. At about a
league from Valparaíso he met the column of volunteers marching to
Santiago, and gaily advancing while singing patriotic airs. Wilhelm
who was not at all desirous of being arrested as a suspicious person
for travelling at this hour of the night, drew up by the wayside, and
allowed the men to defile past him. When the last had disappeared in
the distance, the German returned to the high road, and half an hour
later re-entered Valparaíso, puzzling over the remarks of Tahi-Mari,
whose plans he could not divine.
In the meanwhile, the volunteers continued to advance, filling the air
with their martial strains. They formed a body of about four thousand
men; but of this number only one-half were armed with muskets--the
rest had pikes, lances, or forks; but their enthusiasm--powerfully
inflamed by the copious libations of aguardiente which the inhabitants
of Valparaíso had furnished to them--knew no limits, and made them
discount beforehand a victory which they regarded as certain.
These soldiers of the moment had been selected from the lowest classes
of society, and retained a turbulence and want of discipline which
nothing could conquer. The citizens of Valparaíso, who feared them
almost as much as if they had been Indians, were delighted at their
departure, for, during their short stay in the town, they had, so to
speak, organized plunder, and made robbery their vocation.
General Soto-Mayor did not at all deceive himself as to the qualities
of the men whom he commanded, and perceived at the first glance that
it would be impossible to obtain from them the obedience which he had
a right to demand. In spite of the repeated orders which he gave them
at starting to observe, the greatest silence on the march, through fear
of being surprised by the Indians, he found himself constrained to
let them act as they pleased, and he resolved to let the army bivouac
on the road, while he proceeded to his country house, whence he could
dispatch a courier to Santiago, requesting officers to be sent him
who could aid him in restoring some degree of order among the men
he commanded. It was evident that such a disorderly and noisy march
exposed them to be murdered to a man in the first ambuscade which the
Araucanos prepared for him.
It was about one in the morning when the volunteers arrived at the
general's country house. It was plunged in profound obscurity; all
the shutters were closed, and the watch dogs barked mournfully in the
deserted courtyards. After ordering a halt for some hours the general
proceeded towards his residence. At the sound of the bell a heavy
footfall was heard inside, and a grumbling voice asked who was knocking
at such an hour, and what he wanted.
When the general had made himself known, the gate turned heavily
on its hinges, and Señor Soto-Mayor entered, not without a painful
contraction of the heart, the house which recalled to him such
affecting recollections. Alas! long past were the happy days which he
had spent in this charming retreat, surrounded by all those to whom he
was attached, and resting from the fatigues of a gloriously occupied
life.
The old gentleman's first care was to send off the courier, and then,
after taking out of the manservant's hand the candle which he held, he
entered the apartments. This splendid residence, which he had left so
brilliant and so animated, was now solitary and deserted. The rooms
he passed through, on whose floor his foot echoed dully, were cold;
the atmosphere which he breathed was impregnated with a close and
unhealthy odour, which testified the little care the guardians of the
house had displayed in removing it; on all sides were abandonment and
sadness.
At times the general's eyes fell upon an object which had belonged to
his wife, and then they filled with tears, while a deep sigh issued
from his oppressed chest. At length, after visiting in turn all the
apartments in the house with that painful pleasure which persons feel
in evoking a past which cannot return, the general opened the door of
the room which had served as his bedroom. He could not restrain a start
of terror. A man, seated in an easy chair, with his arms folded on his
chest, seemed to be awaiting somebody.
It was Diego.
"Come in, my dear general," he said, as he rose and bowed courteously.
"Señor!" said the general.
"Yes; I understand. It astonishes you to see me here: but what would
you have? Circumstances allowed me no choice; and I am sure that you
will pardon me this slight infraction of etiquette."
The general was dumb with surprise at the sight of such audacity.
Still, when the first flush of indignation had passed, feeling curious
to know the object of the person who behaved to him so strangely, he
restrained his anger and awaited the result of this singular interview.
"Sit down, general, pray," Diego continued, keeping up his tone of
assurance.
"I thank, you, sir, for your politeness in doing the honours of my
house; but before aught else, I should wish to know the reason which
has procured me this visit."
"I beg your pardon, general," the other replied, with a slight tremor
in his voice; "but perhaps you do not recognize me, and so I will--"
"It is unnecessary, sir. I remember you perfectly well; you are a
smuggler, called Diego the Vaquero, who abandoned us after engaging to
escort us, as did Captain Leon Delbès, in whose service I believe you
were."
"That is perfectly correct, general; still the name of Diego is not the
only one which I have the right to bear."
"That concerns me but slightly."
"Perhaps not."
"Explain yourself."
"If the Spaniards call me Diego, the Indians call me Tahi-Mari."
This name produced the same effect on the general as an electric shock.
"Tahi-Mari!" he exclaimed. "You!"
"Myself!"
A flash of hatred animated the eyes of the two men, who seemed
measuring each other like two tigers brought face to face. After a
moment's silence, the general continued:
"Can you be ignorant that I have round the house in which we now are
four thousand men ready to hurry up at my first summons?"
"No, general; but you do not seem to know that I, too, have in this
house two hundred Indians, who are watching each of your movements, and
who would rush on you at the slightest signal I gave."
The general's lips blanched.
"Ah! I understand," he said. "You have come to assassinate me after
killing my wife, for now I no longer doubt but that it was you who had
us surprised in such a cowardly fashion in the Parumo of San Juan
Bautista."
"You are mistaken, general: it was not I who made you a widower; and it
was in order that none of my men should tear from me the prey I covet,
that I have come myself to fetch it."
"But what impels you to be so furious against those of my race, so that
the name of Tahi-Mari may be equivalent to that of the murderer of the
Soto-Mayors."
"Because the Soto-Mayors are all cowards and infamous."
"Villain!"
"Yes, infamous! and it is because I have sworn to exterminate the last
of the accursed family that I have come to take your life!"
"Assassin!"
"Nonsense; a Tahi-Mari fights, but he does so honourably--face to face.
Here are two swords," Diego continued, pointing to the weapons lying on
a cheffonier, "choose the one you please; or if you like, you have your
sabre, and here is mine. On guard! and may heaven protect the last of
the Tahi-Maris, while destroying the last of the Soto-Mayors!"
"I have a son who will avenge me," the general exclaimed.
"Perhaps not, Señor Don Juan, for you know not whether he is dead or
alive."
"My son!--oh!"
And the general, overpowered by a feverish excitement, furiously drew
the pistol which he had in his belt and discharged it point-blank at
Diego. But the latter was following his movements, and at the moment
when the general's hand was lowered at him, he cut through his wrist
with a sabre-stroke. The general uttered a cry of pain, and the bullet
broke a mirror.
"Oh, oh!" Diego exclaimed, "ever treacherous; but we are too old
enemies not to know each other, and hence I was on my guard, general."
The old man, without replying, drew another pistol with his left hand
and fired. But the badly aimed shot only grazed slightly the Indian's
chest; and the bullet, after making a scratch along one of his ribs,
entered the panel of a door. Diego bounded like a lion on the old man,
who had fallen to the ground, and whose blood was streaming from the
frightful wound he had on his arm. Then he seized his long white hair,
pulled up his head violently, and compelled him to look him in the face.
"At last, Soto-Mayor, you are conquered!" he shouted.
The old man collected the little strength left him in a supreme effort;
his eyes sparkled with fury, his countenance was contracted with
disgust, and he spat in his enemy's face. At this supreme insult Diego
uttered a frightful howl, and then drew his knife with a demoniacal
grin.
In the meanwhile the sound of the pistol shots had spread an alarm
among the volunteers, and a party of them rushed tumultuously into the
house. When the soldiers entered the general's bedroom, after breaking
in the door, they found the window open and the old man stretched out
on the floor, bathed in blood. In addition to the horrible mutilation
of his arm, he had a hideous wound on his head, from which the blood
streamed down his face. Diego had scalped the unfortunate Don Juan de
Soto-Mayor.
A cry of horror burst from every mouth, and they hastily gave the
wounded man all the care which his wretched condition required.