THE REDSKINS.
In the meanwhile the night had become more and more gloomy; the wind
had risen in the north-east, driving before it heavy grey clouds, which
intercepted the moonbeams, and collected over the canyon. The count,
obliged to keep silent, and worn out by the fatigue of a long ride,
felt his eyelids involuntarily droop. At first he resisted the lethargy
that assailed him; but, as he could not change his position, he soon
found it impossible to carry on the struggle. His head fell on his
chest, his eyes closed, he let his rifle fall, and went fast asleep.
The adventurer gazed at him for a moment with an expression of pity
mingled with pride.
"A valiant soldier for all that," he muttered, "but incapable of
withstanding the fatigue of a lengthened watch in the presence of the
Indians; better for him to sleep in peace."
Then, with an anxiety which had something filial in its rough kindness,
he took off his thick zarapé, of Indian manufacture, and carefully
wrapped him up, the speaker saying in a whisper--
"The dew is heavy at this season of the year, and the nights are cold."
And he resumed his watch, looking around him carefully, in order to
assure himself that, during the few seconds he had employed in doing
this service to the count, no suspicious movement had occurred outside.
Suddenly he started, and his eyes, obstinately fixed on an adjacent
thicket, seemed trying to pierce the gloom. Gradually raising his
rifle, whose barrel was browned, in order that the moonbeams might not
be reflected from it, he cocked and raised it, but at the sound of the
hammer a shadow emerged from the centre of the clump, and holding out
its arms to the hunter, several times waved a buffalo robe.
At this signal of peace, which was familiar to him, the hunter, without
lowering his rifle, so that he might be able to resist any attempted
treachery, sharply asked the person standing motionless in front of
him, who he was and what he wanted.
"My brother the Sumach is a great paleface brave," the stranger
answered; "a chief wishes to sit at his fire, and smoke in council with
him."
The hunter, on hearing the name of the Sumach, by which the Indians
ordinarily designated him, understood that he was recognized; but
he cared very little about it, for he was perfectly aware that the
redskins knew the number of white men hidden by the rocks.
"You are drunk, redskin," he answered sharply. "Go and sleep off your
mezcal and firewater. This is not the hour to try and enter a war
encampment."
"The Sumach is wise," the Indian continued. "His medicine is powerful.
What does he fear from one man? The White Crow is a great chief in his
nation, and his tongue is not forked."
"If you are really White Crow," the hunter answered, "your words are
true; but what proof will you give me?"
"This," the Indian said.
And hurriedly stooping, he set fire to a pile of dry leaves and dead
wood, which he had probably collected for the purpose. In a second the
wood crackled, and a brilliant flame rose skywards, illumining all
surrounding objects, and especially the person of the Indian, who, with
his arms crossed on his chest, and head erect, had placed himself so
that not one of his features should escape the wood ranger's searching
glance.
"It is well, chief," the Canadian said, as he rested his rifle butt
on the ground, assured, apparently, at any rate, that the Indian was
alone. "You can come and take your place by my fire."
At the noise caused by this interview, the Spaniards had risen and
seized their weapons, in order to be ready for any event.
"What is the matter?" the count asked anxiously.
"Nothing out of the common in the rules of Indian tactics," the hunter
answered; "a redskin chief desires, before attacking us, to make us
probably unacceptable proposals."
"Why receive him, then?" the count continued.
"Refusing to do so would lead him and the demons hidden in the bushes
to suppose that we are afraid; it is better to let him come. The time
he loses here in useless words will be so much gained by us."
"That is true," the count said with a smile; "and what part do you
propose we should play in this farce?"
"None at all. Go to sleep again, or, if your anxiety renders that
impossible, pretend to sleep. This security on our part will produce
a greater effect on the chief's mind than a ridiculous display of
strength."
"But suppose this man only comes to us for the purpose of laying a
trap," the count said earnestly.
"There is no fear of that; although Indians are regarded by white men
as savages, they are civilized in their fashion, and have an honour of
their own. Once they have pledged their word it may be trusted to in
perfect security."
"Very well, my friend. You know better than I how you should behave to
men with whose habits you are conversant, and therefore in the best way
possible for our general safety."
"Trust to me for that, señor. I am as interested as yourself in the
matter."
The count and his comrades, upon this assurance of the hunter, resumed
their places, and when the chief appeared at the entrance of the
encampment, all led him to believe that they were asleep.
"My brother, White Crow, is welcome to my fire," the Canadian said to
him, "if he brings propositions of peace on behalf of his brothers."
"The intentions of the chief are good. It entirely depends on my
brother whether they remain so."
The two men then bowed to each other with all the gravity demanded by
Indian etiquette, and crouched down over the fire on which the Canadian
had thrown some handfuls of dry wood to revive the flame. The chief
then drew his pipe from his girdle, filled it with _moriche_, or sacred
tobacco, lit it by the help of a twig, for fear lest his fingers
should come in contact with the fire, and both men began smoking,
silently passing the calumet to each other, from which they only drew
three or four puffs at a time.
White Crow was a tall, well-built man, whose thin limbs, however,
seemed tolerably strong. As far as it is possible to recognize an
Indian's age, he did not seem to have passed middle life; his features
were noble and marked, and his glance intelligent; the expression of
his face was generally kindly. He was in full paint, and wore the war
moccasins, which showed that he was on an expedition; excepting his
scalping knife, which was passed through his belt of untanned deer
hide, he was unarmed, at least apparently so.
When all the tobacco was consumed, the chief shook out the ashes on his
thumbnail, passed the pipe again through his belt, and turned to the
hunter, who was waiting, cold and impassive, till he thought proper to
speak.
"The Comanches of the Lakes," he said, "are surprised at finding here a
great brave like my brother the Sumach. Can he have become a friend of
the Yoris, or have they taken him prisoner in some ambuscade, and made
him their slave?"
"Neither one nor the other, chief; accident alone brought me into their
company," the hunter sharply replied.
"The redskins have the eye of the eagle and the wisdom of the snake.
They saw the Sumach enter the stone calli, which the whites call the
Hacienda del Barrio, accompanied by white men, and leave it in the same
fashion."
"What does that prove, chief? Besides it concerns you but little, I
suppose, if I am a friend of the Yoris, as you call them."
"More than my brother the Sumach supposes. The Comanches of the Lakes
love the great heart of the east, they have met him on the war trail;
they know that the Sumach is a great brave, and do not wish to see him
enveloped in the ruin of their enemies."
"I thank you and yours, chief," the Canadian said, still perfectly
calm, "for the interest you are kind enough to show for me. I too love
your brothers; I have never fought your tribe except against the grain,
and I should be vexed to level my rifle at them."
"Wah! my brother speaks well; wisdom dwells in him. Let him follow the
chief to his camp; his place is marked out at the council fire."
"I should be glad to do so, chief," the hunter said, with a sad
shake of the head. "Heaven is my witness that I should like to avoid
bloodshed between us. Unhappily, what you propose is impossible; honour
forbids my acceptance. I have sworn to protect these men, and will die
or escape with them."
The Indian reflected for some minutes. "My brother's intention is mad,"
he at length continued; "these Yoris must die."
"Why should it be so? Can they not ransom themselves? Why shed blood
unnecessarily? The Yoris will pay a ransom, and the Comanches will
allow them to continue their journey in peace."
The Indian, in his turn, shook his head sadly several times.
"No," he said, "this is not the Mexican moon; the Comanches are not
seeking booty, but want revenge. My brother must not press me further,
but will abandon the Yoris. One of the great Comanche chiefs has been
insulted, and the avenger of blood is behind the palefaces; they will
die; I have spoken."
The Canadian rose.
"Though I refuse to accept my brother's offer," he said, "I am not the
less grateful for the step which he has uselessly taken, impelled by
the interest he feels for me. Let him return to his men and repeat my
words to them; they are those of a man whose heart is upright. Their
enemies are my brothers, and I will defend them, whatever may happen;
if they fall I shall fall with them; but, at any rate, I shall have the
satisfaction of having done my duty, instead of committing a cowardly
act unworthy of a warrior and a Christian."
"My brother's blood will fall on his own head," the chief said, with an
accent of sadness, which he was unable to conceal entirely.
Then after bowing ceremoniously to the hunter, who returned his salute,
he withdrew slowly, and soon disappeared in the darkness.
"Up, comrades," the Canadian said so soon as he was alone; "you will
now have to prove yourselves brave men, for I predict that we shall be
vigorously attacked within ten minutes."
In an instant the Spaniards were armed and ambushed behind the rocks.
The count walked up to the hunter and said, as he cordially pressed his
hand--
"Señor Olivero, I heard all; you could save yourself by abandoning us,
but refused to do so. I thank you."
"Nonsense," the adventurer replied laughingly; "did you not understand
that the Indian was setting a clumsy trap for me, into which I was not
so simple as to fall?"
"Why try to reduce the merit of your loyal conduct? I know perfectly
well, and you know as well as I do, that this man spoke the truth."
"That is possible. Would you not have done the same in my place?"
"That is a singular question. Do you imagine, pray, that everybody has
your heroism?"
The Canadian began laughing, and the conversation broke off here for
the present, for an immense belt of flame rose from the bank and
dispelled the gloom as if by enchantment; the Indians were beginning
their attack by firing the grass, so that they might see the enemy's
camp at their ease. At the same instant a cloud of arrows and a
hailstorm of bullets hailed over the camp, though it was impossible for
the Spaniards to distinguish a single enemy.
"Spare your ammunition," the Canadian recommended his companions; "do
not fire till you are certain; who knows how long this may last? Do not
expose yourselves unless you wish to be traversed by an arrow or hit by
a bullet; we are waging an Indian war, in which courage is most shown
in prudence."
The hunter, however, with his body bent forward, was attentively
seeking an opportunity to fire, following the direction of the shots;
but the redskins knew by experience the infallible precision of his
aim, and were not at all anxious to serve as his target; hence they
redoubled their precautions. Suddenly the Canadian fancied he saw a
slight movement behind some logs collected on the bank and fired. At
the same instant an Indian leapt up like a wounded buck, and then fell
back; several warriors dashed forward to pick up his body, and four
fresh shots produced four more corpses. The Indians thereupon fled,
abandoning their wounded, who writhed, in the last convulsions of
death, and all fell back into such deep silence that had it not been
for the sight of the corpses and the increasing conflagration, it might
have been supposed that all had been a dream.
"Well," the count said, as he reloaded his gun, "it was a sharp
skirmish, but the lesson was a good one, and I hope they will profit by
it."
"Do not fancy that they will so easily give up getting hold of you.
Have a little patience and you will see them return. Have we any
wounded?"
"Not a soul."
"Heaven be blessed! Let us redouble our vigilance, for it is probable
that they are at this moment inventing some diabolical stratagem to
deceive us."
Nearly two hours elapsed, and the redskins did not make the slightest
movement indicating their desire to attempt a fresh attack.
"I believe, my friend," the count said, "that you are mistaken, and
that these demons have definitively given up the contest."
The Canadian shook his head, as he sought to distinguish what was going
on upon the river bank by the expiring flames of the conflagration.
Suddenly he burst into a passionate cry, "¡Viva Dios!" he shouted;
"Look at those demons incarnate, they are rolling trunks of trees,
behind which they are sheltered like cunning opossums; if we do not
take care we shall have them upon us within a quarter of an hour."
The hunter had guessed correctly. The redskins, after cutting down a
considerable number of trees, had formed them into a sort of flying
barricade, behind which they advanced till they reached the river bank,
and had but a few yards to go in order to arrive at the rocks. Once
there, they would begin a hand to hand fight, in which their numerical
superiority would infallibly gain them the advantage. The situation
was growing critical for the besieged; each moment rendered it worse,
for they were compelled to keep up an incessant fire on invisible
enemies, who continued to advance without taking the trouble to reply,
being protected by the bullets and arrows of several of their party,
who remained behind, and skirmished with the Spaniards, whom they thus
obliged to display great caution to avoid being hit, and in consequence
could not fire with their usual skill. On reaching the spot where the
belt of rocks began, the Indians rose all together and bounded forward
like a pack of tigers, uttering horrible yells.
"We must die now," the Canadian exclaimed.
Seven guns were discharged together, and seven enemies fell. But
the others pressed on; they leapt over the bodies and rushed at the
Spaniards. Then began a struggle impossible to describe, of seven men
against thirty; a gigantic struggle, heroically though hopelessly
sustained by the white men, who, in spite of prodigious efforts, saw
the moment rapidly approaching when they must succumb.
The count especially fought with admirable energy against the Indians,
who pressed him closely and seemed anxious to seize his person. Several
times, had it not been for the Canadian's devotion, he would have been
carried off by the redskins. Several Spaniards lay dead or seriously
wounded, a few moments more, a few seconds perhaps, and all would be
over with the white men--when a strange event suddenly occurred. A
horrible clamour began among the Indians, who, for no apparent cause,
were attacked by a panic and fled in all directions, crying with an
accent of indescribable despair--
"Woe, woe! The Queen of the Savannah, the Queen of the Savannah!"
At the same instant three riders appeared in the canyon, driving
before them the redskins, who did not attempt to resist, but fled in
all directions. The Spaniards were saved at the very moment when they
fancied themselves lost. Indeed, it was time for this help to arrive,
for of eight, only three remained on their feet, the rest were dead!
The flight of the Indians gradually became converted into a thorough
rout; the strange riders, at the head of whom it was easy to
distinguish a female, passed the Spanish encampment like a tornado, and
disappeared in the darkness, still obstinately pursuing the fugitives.
The travellers, so miraculously saved, remained alone, suffering from
great perplexity, not knowing whether they were really delivered, or
had another attack to apprehend from their ferocious and implacable
foes.