About a fortnight after the events just related, other scenes were
taking place in a part of the desert which extends from Tubac to the
American frontier. But before referring to the actors let us describe
the theatre on which they once more met.
The vast plains which separated Mexico from the United States are known
only by the vague reports of hunters or gold-seekers--at least that part
watered by the river Gila and its tributaries. This river, which takes
its rise in the distant mountains of the Mimbres, passes under various
names through an immense extent of sandy barren country, the arid
monotony of which is interrupted only by the ravines hollowed by the
waters, which in their erratic course, ravage without fertilising.
The reader must imagine himself at a spot distant about sixty leagues
from Tubac. The sun, inclining towards the west, was already darting
oblique rays; it was the hour when the wind, although still hot, no
longer seems to come out of the mouth of a furnace. It was about four
o'clock in the afternoon, and light white clouds tinted with rose
colour, indicated that the sun had run two-thirds of his course; above,
in the deep blue sky, an eagle hung motionless over the desert, the only
visible inhabitant of the air. From the height where the king of birds
balanced himself majestically, his eye could perceive on the immense
plain, many human beings, some of whom were in groups, and others at so
great a distance apart as to be visible to him alone, and not to each
other.
Just beneath the soaring bird was a kind of irregular natural circle
formed by a hedge of cacti, with their fleshy leaves and thorny points,
with which were mingled the pale foliage of the _bois de fer_. At one
end of this hedge was an elevated piece of ground two or three feet
high, with a flat top, which overlooked it on all sides. All around
this entrenchment, untouched by the hand of man, stretched arid plains
or a succession of little hillocks which appeared like motionless waves
in a sea of sand.
A troop of about sixty men on horseback had alighted in this place. The
steaming horses showed that they had travelled fast. There was a
confused noise of human voices, the neighing of horses, and the rattling
of every kind of weapon--for it did not appear to be a regular cavalry
corps. Lances with red pennons, muskets, carbines and double-barrelled
guns were hanging from the saddle-bows.
Some of the men were cleaning their horses, while others were lying on
the sand under the shelter of the cacti; a little further back were a
number of mules advancing towards the halting-place, and behind them
again, some twenty carts, heavily laden.
Visible to the eyes of the eagle, in the road along which these
travellers must have passed, were corpses of men and animals strewn on
the arid plain, marking the bloody track of this band of adventurers.
Doubtless our readers have already recognised the Gold-seekers under the
command of Don Estevan de Arechiza.
When the mules and the carts joined the horsemen, the mules were
unharnessed and the horses unsaddled; the carts were unloaded and then
linked together with iron chains, while the saddles of the animals were
piled upon one another, and served with the cacti to fill up the spaces
between the wheels and form a formidable barricade. The animals were
tied to the carts, and the cooking utensils placed by the side, of the
brushwood brought from a distance; a portable forge was established; and
this colony, which seemed as though it had risen from the ground as by a
miracle, was soon busily employed, while the anvil resounded with the
blows which were fashioning horses' shoes and repairing wheels.
A man richly dressed, but whose clothes were faded with sun and dust,
alone remained on horseback in the middle of the camp, looking earnestly
around him. This man was the chief of the troop. Three other men were
occupied meanwhile in fixing the poles of a tent, and then placing on
its summit a red banner on which was painted a scutcheon with six golden
stars on an azure ground, with the motto, "I will watch." The chief
then alighted, and after having given an order to one of his men, who
mounted and left the camp he entered the tent. All these preparations
had occupied barely half-an-hour, so much were they simplified by habit.
To the right of the camp, but far distant, arose from the sand a mass of
gum-trees and _ironwoods_, the only trees produced by these arid plains.
Here a second troop had halted. They had neither carts nor baggage
mules, but were about double the number of the other party. By the
bronzed complexions of the riders, some almost naked, others covered
with skins and with waving plumes of eagle's feathers, and by the
brilliant red and yellow with which they were painted, it was easy to
recognise a party of Indians.
Ten of them--doubtless the chiefs--gravely seated round a fire which
produced more smoke than flame, were passing from hand to hand the
calumet or pipe of council. Their arms, consisting of leathern
bucklers--surrounded by a thick fringe of feathers--axes, and knives,
were laid by their side. At some little distance and out of hearing,
five warriors held a number of horses, strangely accoutred with wooden
saddles covered with skins. These horses belonged to the chiefs, and
seemed difficult to restrain.
As one of the chiefs passed the calumet to the others, he pointed to a
spot in the horizon. The eyes of a European would only have seen a
slight grey cloud against the blue sky, but the Indian recognised a
column of smoke--that rising from the camp of the whites.
At that moment an Indian messenger arrived with some news, and all the
party crowded round him.
Now between the two camps the eye of the eagle could discover another
rider, but alone and out of sight of both parties. It was doubtless he
who was being sought for by the messenger despatched from the camp of
the gold-seekers. This man rode a grey horse, and seemed to be seeking
a track; he was dressed as a European; and his complexion, though much
bronzed, denoted that he belonged to that race.
It was Cuchillo, who, resuming his course, caused his horse to mount one
of the hillocks, where he could perceive the columns of smoke arising
from the two camps. The Indians perceived him at the same time; for a
long howl, like that of a hundred panthers, arose, and the king of
birds, terrified by the tumult, soon became only a black speck in the
clouds. The outlaw fled rapidly in the opposite direction and the
Indians rushed after him.
Still further in the horizon, placed so as to form a triangle with the
other camps, was a third group of men scarcely visible to the eagle
himself. They were encamped upon a small islet in the midst of a river
fringed with trees, and over which rested a light fog. The desert of
Tubac ended at this river, which, flowing from east to west, divided, a
league below the island, into two branches, and formed a vast delta--
bounded by a chain of hills which were now shrouded by the fog.
In this delta, more than a league square, lay the Golden Valley.
All these different groups of people will soon meet, like the waves
which, raised by opposing winds, break against each other in the
immensity of the ocean.
Thanks to a skillful manoeuvre of Pedro Diaz, the expedition, on
arriving near the Golden Valley, had concealed for two days from the
Indians the route they had taken. But to associate himself with sixty
companions did not please Cuchillo, who, under the pretence of
reconnoitring the country, had separated himself from his companions.
It was to indicate the position of their bivouac that they had lighted a
fire in the camp, and to find him that Don Estevan had sent out a
messenger. Cuchillo, indeed, was the only one who could guide them to
the Golden Valley.
A bold thought was in Cuchillo's mind, but the executions of this
project was yet to lead him to a fearful punishment, which he well
deserved. We cannot, however, speak of this at present.
A man, as we have said, had arrived at the Indian camp with news. This
man, in seeking the enemies whom they were pursuing, had reached the
bank of the river, and concealed by the willows, had perceived three
white men. These three men could only be Bois-Rose, Pepe the Spaniard,
and Fabian de Mediana. It was indeed this trio of friends.
We left Bois-Rose and Pepe on the banks of the torrent in which the
young Spaniard, excited by the tale he had heard of his mother's
assassination, and full of fury, had nearly found a tomb. Fortunately
the fall had been fatal only to the horse, and the rider had escaped by
a miracle. The three friends had resumed their pursuit; but, forced to
proceed on foot while their enemies were on horseback, they had only
arrived at Tubac on the day the expedition left it, after having
travelled sixty leagues in five days.
Then it became more easy to follow the adventurers--who were retarded by
their baggage--and ten days' march had brought the intrepid companions
to the same point as their enemies; for although forced for safety to
take a different route, they had rarely lost sight of the fires of their
bivouacs. Surrounded as he was, however, Don Estevan could not be
easily captured.
When the Indian messenger had finished his report, the warriors
deliberated afresh. The youngest of the ten called upon to speak first,
said:
"The whites have sometimes the legs of a deer, sometimes the courage of
the puma, and the cunning of the jackal. They have concealed their
route for two days from eyes which can trace that of the eagle in the
air; it is another ruse on their part to scatter their warriors, and we
must seek them near the island in river Gila."
After a minute's silence, another spoke:
"The whites have doubtless a thousand stratagems at their service, but
can they increase their stature? No; and if on the contrary they could
make themselves so small that the Indian eye could not perceive them,
they would do it. Our enemies are from the south--these men just
discovered come from the north--it is not therefore towards the island
that we must go."
In the midst of these contradictory opinions, the shouts of the Indians,
at the sight of Cuchillo, burst forth, compelling the chiefs to suspend
their deliberations until the warriors who pursued him had returned.
When they reappeared, they reported that they had discovered the trail
of the whites. Then the second chief who had spoken--a man of tall
stature and darker in colour than most of his tribe--whence his name of
the _Blackbird_--again spoke:
"I have said that the men who come from the north could not form part of
those who come from the south. I have always seen that the south and
the north are enemies of one another like the winds which flow from
opposite quarters. Let us send a message to the three warriors on the
island and ask them to join us against the other whites, and the Indian
will be gladdened at the death of his enemies by the hands of each
other."
But this advice, dictated by prudence and knowledge of mankind, found no
support in the council. The Blackbird was forced to yield, and it was
agreed that the mass of the troop should march against the camp, while
only a small detachment should be sent to the island.
A quarter of an hour after, one hundred men set off for the camp; while
twenty others went towards the island, thirsting for the blood of the
three men who had taken shelter there.
It is towards the end of the month of March that we find the
gold-seekers and their chief in the camp described, after they had lost
by the Indians and by the numberless dangers of the desert, forty of
their men. But although weakened by this loss, still the chances
between them and the Indians, ever ready to defend their territory, were
nearly equal. On each side was cunning, and the habit of following an
almost invisible track, while the cupidity of the one was equalled by
the ferocity of the other.
Nevertheless the enthusiasm was no longer so great as on the day when,
after having celebrated a mass for the success of their expedition, the
adventurers had set off from Tubac, uttering cries of triumph, which
were accompanied by the sound of cannon and the acclamations of the
inhabitants. No precaution had been omitted by Don Estevan, who seemed
to foresee everything. Until then, in these kind of expeditions, each
man had acted for himself, and trusted to himself and his own horse for
his safety; but the Spaniard had disciplined this band, and forced them
to obey him, while the carts that he had brought served both for
transport and for defence. Thus moved the ancient people of the north
in their invading journeys towards the south of Europe. No former
expedition had penetrated so far into the desert as had this one, under
the guidance of its skillful chief.
The responsibility which weighed upon Don Estevan would of itself have
been enough to account for the clouds upon his brow; but perhaps he
thought more of the past than of the present or the future. He had been
able to compare the energy of Fabian with the pusillanimity of the
Senator Tragaduros. Carried away by the course of events, he had
thought only of removing his nephew from his path; but when the young
man disappeared in the gulf shouting a fierce menace to his father's
brother, he had suddenly felt an immense void, and a scarcely-closed
wound had re-opened in his heart. He missed one thing amidst all his
prosperity, and in spite of himself, the pride of race revived in his
breast, and an ardent sympathy had seized upon him for the ardent young
man, loved by Dona Rosarita, who might perhaps have replaced the Senator
in the execution of his bold plan.
He regretted having allowed himself to be led away by circumstances, and
at the moment when the last of the Medianas--except himself--disappeared
from his eyes, he regretted an heir so worthy to bear the name. Now,
when on the eve of mounting another step by the conquest of the Golden
Valley, this regret became more vivid.
This was not the only care, however, which then preoccupied Antonio de
Mediana; the absence of Cuchillo made him uneasy, and he began to have a
suspicion of this man's perfidy.
Cuchillo had gained considerably upon the Indians who pursued him; but
no sooner did he perceive through the hedge the entrenchment raised by
his companions than he slackened his pace. The distance at which he
still was from the camp was too great to enable him to be perceived by
the sentinels; and when he saw the Indians who pursued him halt at sight
of the column of smoke, he stopped altogether. His plan was to go into
the camp as late as possible, so as only to give the alarm at the last
moment. He knew enough of the Indians to play this dangerous game with
the most perfect _sang froid_; he knew that they never attacked but with
superior numbers, also that some hours would elapse before they decided
on attacking the camp at all; that, satisfied with having recovered the
track of their enemies, his pursuers would return and carry the report
to their companions.
He was right; and enchanted at the effect of his ruse, the outlaw lay
down behind a mound of earth, ready to resume his course when his senses
should warn him of the approach of danger. By regaining the camp only a
few minutes before the attack, he hoped also to escape the questions of
Don Estevan.
"We should have sixty to divide the treasure," thought he, "had I not
taken care to diminish that number. Then, while the whites and reds are
fighting together, I--"
A distant explosion, like that of a rifle, interrupted his meditations.
This sound appeared to come from the north, and indeed proceeded from
the river, where were Bois-Rose and his companions.
"It is strange that such a sound should proceed from that quarter," said
Cuchillo, "for the white camp is eastward and the red westward."
A second shot was heard; then a third, followed by a short silence, to
which succeeded a continual firing. Cuchillo trembled. He fancied that
a second white party, distinct from his, were about to seize the coveted
treasures. Then he feared that Don Estevan had despatched a detachment
to take possession of the Golden Valley. But reason soon showed him the
little probability of either of these surmises. A party of men must
have left traces which he should have discovered during the two days he
had been scouring the country; and then it was not probable that Don
Estevan would have dared to weaken his force by dividing it. He
therefore lay still, and concluded that the sounds proceeded from some
party of American hunters surprised by the natives.
We must return to the camp of Don Antonio, where the firing had also
been heard, and where it had given rise to a host of conjectures.
Evening had come on, and red clouds marked the fiery trace of the
setting sun; the earth began to freshen up at the approach of night, and
the crescent of the moon to grow more and more brilliant, under the
light of which the camp appeared picturesque.
On the rising ground which overlooked the whole entrenchment, arose, as
we have said, the chief's tent with its floating banner. A feeble light
from within indicated that he was still watching, and several fires,
made in holes dug in the sand or surrounded by stones--lest their light
should betray their position--threw a subdued red glare around; while,
in case of attack, fagots were prepared to illumine the camp. Groups of
men lying down, and others preparing the evening meal, were mingled with
the horses and mules, who were eating their rations of maize.
The careless and satisfied look upon every face, showed that these men
confided the care of their defence wholly to their chief. At the
entrance to the tent lay a man, like a dog watching over his master; and
from his long hair and the guitar by the side of his rifle, it was easy
to recognise Oroche. His time seemed to be divided between the
contemplation of a heaven glittering with stars, and the care of keeping
up a fire of green wood, the smoke of which rose in a vertical column
silvered by the moon. Beyond the entrenchments the moonlight whitened
the plain, and even the fog which covered the summits of a chain of
mountains which were visible in the horizon.
Behind the carts paced the sentinels, carbine in hand. Among the
various groups of men scattered about were Benito, the servant of Don
Estevan, and Baraja. They were engaged in conversation.
"Senor Benito," said Baraja, speaking to the old herdsman, "you who are
so well acquainted with all the affairs of these deserts, can you
explain to me what is the cause of these shots, which we have been
hearing ever since noon, and which can only be fired by our enemies, the
Indians?"
"It is difficult to say," answered Benito; "but certainly they must have
some good reason for wasting so much powder--a scarce article among
them. It appears probable enough that poor Cuchillo is captured; or may
be the Senor Gayferos, who was sent after him."
"But why should they keep firing from time to time?--one shot would be
enough to put an end to either Cuchillo or Gayferos; whereas we have
heard volleys."
"Ah! it may be that the savages are practising one of their horrible
modes of punishment--perhaps they are firing at their victims merely for
the sport. There is one terrible torture they inflict--I remember to
have been--"
"Hold there, friend Benito!" cried Baraja, interrupting him, "no more of
your horrible stories; I have not forgotten that frightful night by the
well of La Poza."
"Well," rejoined the herdsman, "unless they are firing at either
Cuchillo or Gayferos--or perhaps at both--I cannot divine the cause of
their continued fusillade. These Indians are as curious as the very
devil; and they can extract a secret almost as effectually as the Holy
Inquisition itself. Perhaps they are frightening either the guide or
Gayferos to betray the situation of our camp."
"God forbid they should succeed!" exclaimed Baraja.
"I join you in the prayer," said the ex-herdsman: "but I cannot help
remarking, how imprudent in our chief to permit the fire. The smoke has
been rising all day like a column. In an atmosphere like this it may be
seen for leagues off!"
"I agree with you," replied Baraja; "but then you know it was kindled at
the express wish of the guide--so that he might find the way to where we
should be encamped. Both humanity towards Cuchillo, as well as our own
interest in his safety, required us to light the fire."
"Ah! that is not so certain. Between ourselves, I haven't much
confidence in this Cuchillo. He appears to be one of those guides whose
paths always end in quagmires."
"But have you not heard the rumour of the camp?"
"What rumour? That Don Estevan is not going by mere hazard to search
for a mine of gold; but that he already knows of the existence of a rich
placer? Is it that you mean?"
"Yes--or rather that Don Estevan knows of the existence of the placer;
but not _where_ it is, or the road that leads to it. This is only known
to Cuchillo, whose death would therefore be an irreparable loss to all
of us."
"Bah!" replied the ex-herdsman, with a shake of the head; "Cuchillo's
face is one that could never deceive an experienced eye. For my part I
hope I am deceived in him, though I doubt it."
"Oh, Senor Benito, you always look upon the dark side of things."
"Well, perhaps so--and on this very night I may especially appear a bird
of ill omen, for I cannot help feeling the presentiment that there is
danger near us. See! look yonder! The animals have left off eating--
both mules and horses. Observe how they stand listening, as if they
heard something. Well, what is to come will come; and I have not much
to lose--even my life is not worth much."
And with this consolatory speech the old shepherd wrapped himself up in
his cloak and lay down to sleep.
Not so Baraja. The words of his comrade had produced their effect, and
he was unable to compose himself to rest. His imagination depicted to
him a thousand phantoms, and every moment he fancied he could hear the
yells of the savages, as they rushed forward to attack the camp. Not
that the ex-haciendado was altogether a coward; but there was reason for
his fears; and the darkness of the night, as well as the strange
behaviour of the animals, was sufficient cause to render even a brave
man apprehensive of danger.
After the long day's march, all the adventurers were asleep--stretched
here and there upon the ground. The sentinels alone were awake, and
watching--now and then raising along the lines their monotonous cry of
"_Sentinela alerte_!" It was the only sound that for a long time
interrupted the silence of the night.
After remaining awake for a considerable time, Baraja began to feel
confidence, and perhaps would have gone to sleep, like the others, when
all at once he heard several shots, similar to those that had been heard
during the day, and which appeared to proceed from the same direction.
"They are still firing over there," said he, nudging the old herdsman so
as to awake him.
"No matter," grumbled Benito; "let them fire away. If it be not
Cuchillo or Gayferos, we needn't care. So, friend Baraja, I wish you
good-night--go to sleep yourself. In the desert, time for sleep is
precious, although at any minute you may be sent to sleep in eternity--
Good-night!"
After this terrifying speech, the ex-herdsman drew his cloak over his
eyes to keep out the rays of the moon, when a noise made by the mules
caused him to raise his head again, "Ah!" said he, "the red devils are
not far off."
The neigh of a horse was now heard from a distance, accompanied by a cry
of alarm, and the next moment a man was seen riding up at full gallop.
"It is Cuchillo," cried the servant; then, in a low voice, to Baraja,
"Let the travellers take care when the will-o'-the-wisp dances on the
plain!"