Six months have elapsed since the three hunters, without deigning to
carry with them a single grain of the treasures of the valley of gold,
directed their steps, following the course of the Rio Gila, to the
plains of Texas. The rainy had succeeded to the dry season, without
anything being known of their fate, or of the expedition commanded by
Don Estevan de Arechiza.
Diaz was no more, having carried with him to the tomb the secret of the
wonderful valley--and Gayferos had followed his three liberators. What
had become of these intrepid hunters who had willingly encountered
fatigues, privations and dangers, instead of returning to civilised
life? Were they as rich and powerful as they might have been? Had the
desert claimed these three noble spirits, as it has done so many others?
Like the monk, who seeks in the silence of cloister forgetfulness of
the world's vain show, had Fabian in the sublimity of solitude been able
to forget the woman who loved him, and who secretly hoped for and
expected his return?
What we are about to relate will answer these questions.
One sultry afternoon, two men, mounted and armed to the teeth, pursued
the lonely road which leads from the utmost confines of the province of
Sonora to the Presidio of Tubac. Their costume, the coarse equipment of
their steeds, and the beauty of the latter, formed on the whole a
striking contrast and seemed to indicate subalterns despatched by some
rich proprietor, either to carry or to seek information.
The first was clothed in leather from head to foot, like the vaquero of
some noble hacienda. The second, dark and bearded like a Moor, though
less simply attired than his companion, did not appear to be of much
greater consideration.
At the end of a journey of some days the white houses of the Presidio
began to appear in the distance. The two cavaliers had probably
exhausted every subject of conversation, for they trotted on in silence.
The scanty vegetation which covered the plains they were crossing was
again becoming parched by the sun, after the winter rains; and the dry
grass harboured innumerable grasshoppers whose shrill note was heard
incessantly, mingled with the scorching breath of the south wind. The
foliage of the Peruvian trees drooped languidly over the burning sand,
like the willows upon the banks of a stream.
The two cavaliers arrived at the entrance of the Presidio just as the
church clock sounded the evening _angelus_.
Tubac was then a village with two cross streets, its houses built of
cement, with only a few windows in the front, as is the custom in places
exposed to the sudden excursions of the Indians. Strong movable
barriers, formed by trunks of trees, protected the four approaches to
the village; and a piece of the artillery of the country, raised upon
its carriage, was erected behind each of these barriers.
Previous to following the new-comers into the Presidio, we must relate
an incident which, insignificant in itself, nevertheless acquired some
importance in the heart of a solitary village of Tubac.
During the space of a fortnight a mysterious personage--inasmuch as he
was unknown to the inhabitants of the Presidio--had frequently, and for
a short time, appeared there. He was a man of about forty years of age,
thin, but rough and vigorous in appearance, whose countenance seemed to
tell of dangers overcome, but whose speech was as rare as his
physiognomy was expressive. He replied shortly to any questions
addressed to him; but, on the other hand, he asked a great many, and
appeared particularly anxious to know what was passing at the Hacienda
del Venado.
Some of the inhabitants of the Presidency knew the rich proprietor very
well by repute, but few amongst them--or, one might rather say, none of
them--were so thoroughly acquainted with Don Augustin Pena, as to be
capable of answering the questions of the stranger.
Everybody in Tubac remembered the gold-seekers' expedition which had set
out six months previously; and according to some vague replies given by
the mysterious personage, it was suspected that he knew more upon the
matter than he chose to reveal. He had, he pretended, encountered in
the deserts of the Apache country, a troop commanded by Don Estevan in a
very critical position, and he had reason for believing that they must
have fought a last and terrible engagement with the Indians, from the
result of which he augured no good.
The evening before the arrival of the two travellers, he had inquired
what direction he ought to take to reach Don Augustin's house; and,
above all, he had testified a great wish to learn whether Dona Rosarita
was still unmarried.
The unknown always wore on his head a red checkered handkerchief, the
folds of which hung down over his eyes; and in consequence of this
head-dress he always went by the name of the "man with the red
kerchief."
This being explained, let us now return to our two travellers.
The new-comers--whose arrival created some sensation--on entering the
presidency, directed their steps towards one of the houses of the
village, at the door of which sat a man, who was soothing his leisure
hours by playing upon the guitar.