A METAMORPHOSIS.
We must now go back for some days, and return to the encampment of the
hunters, whom we left in a most awkward position, watched by the
vigilant eye of the Apaches, and compelled to trust temporarily to Fray
Antonio, that is to say, to a man for whom, in his heart, not one of
them felt the slightest sympathy. Still, had it been possible to read
the monk's mind, their opinion about him would probably have been
completely changed.
A revolution had taken place in this man's mind, and he had been
unconsciously overcome by that influence which upright natures ever
exert over those which have not yet been entirely spoiled. However,
whatever was the cause of the change which had taken place almost
suddenly in the monk's ideas, we are bound to state that it was sincere,
and that Fray Antonio really intended to serve his new friends, whatever
the consequences might be to himself.
Tranquil, accustomed, through the desert life he led, to discover with a
certain degree of skill the true feelings of persons with whom accident
brought him in contact, thought it his duty to appear to trust, under
present circumstances, entirely on the monk, though he might not give
perfect credence to his protestations of devotion.
"Are you brave?" he asked him, continuing the conversation.
Fray Antonio, surprised by the sudden question, hesitated for a moment.
"That depends," he said.
"Good; that is the answer of a sensible man. There are moments when the
bravest is afraid, and no man can answer for his courage."
The monk gave a sign of assent.
"We have," Tranquil continued, "to cheat the cheater, and play at
diamond cut diamond with him; you understand me?"
"Perfectly. Go on."
"Very good. Return to Blue-fox,"
"What?"
"Are you afraid?"
"Not exactly; but I fancy he may proceed to extremities with me."
"That is a risk to be run."
"Well, be it so," he exclaimed resolutely, "I will run it."
The Canadian looked fixedly at him.
"That will do," he said to him. "Here, take these, and, at any rate, if
you are attacked, you will not die unavenged."
And he put a brace of pistols in his hand. The monk examined them
attentively for a moment, turning them over so as to assure himself that
they were in good state, then he hid them under his gown with a start of
joy.
"I fear nothing now," he said; "I am going."
"Still I must explain to you----"
"For what good purpose?" the monk interrupted him. "I will tell Blue-fox
that you consent to have an interview with him; but, as you do not care
to go alone to his camp, you prefer seeing him without witnesses in the
middle of the prairie."
"That will do, and you will bring him with you to the spot where I shall
be waiting."
"I will try, at any rate."
"That is what I mean."
"But where will you wait for him?"
"On the skirt of the forest."
"All right."
"One parting hint."
"Out with it."
"Keep a few paces from the Chief, not before or behind, but on his right
hand, if possible."
"Very good; I understand."
"Well, I trust you will succeed."
"Oh, now I fear nothing, as I am armed."
After uttering these words, the monk rose and walked away with a quick
and firm step. The Canadian looked after him for some time.
"Is he a traitor?" he muttered.
"I do not think so," Loyal Heart answered.
"May Heaven grant it!"
"What is your plan?"
"It is simple: we can only triumph over the enemies who surround us by
stratagem; hence, that is the only thing I intend employing. We must
escape from these red demons at all hazards."
"That is true. But, when we have succeeded in throwing them out, where
shall we go?"
"We must not dream, in the present excited state of the country, of
making a long journey across the desert with two females; it would be
running certain ruin."
"That is true; but what can we do?"
"It is my intention to proceed to the Larch-tree hacienda. There, I
fancy, my daughter will obtain the best protection for the present."
"Permit me to remind you that yourself refused to have recourse to
that."
"That is true; hence I only resolve on it when in a fix. As for you----"
"Oh, I will accompany you," Loyal Heart quickly interrupted him.
"Thanks," the Canadian exclaimed, warmly. "Still, in spite of all the
pleasure your generous offer occasions me, I cannot accept it."
"Why not?"
"Because the nation which had adopted you claims your help, and you
cannot refuse it."
"It will wait; besides, Black-deer will make my excuses."
"No," the Chief said, distinctly; "I will not leave my Pale friends in
danger."
"By Jove!" Tranquil exclaimed joyously, "As it is so, we shall have some
fun; hang it all, if five resolute and well-armed men cannot get the
best of a hundred Apaches. Listen to me, comrades: while I go ostensibly
to the meeting I have granted Blue-fox, follow me in Indian file, and be
ready to appear directly I give you the signal by imitating the cry of
the mockingbird."
"All right."
"You, Lanzi and Quoniam, will watch over Carmela."
"We will all watch over her, friend, trust to us," said Loyal Heart.
Tranquil gave his comrades a parting farewell, threw his rifle over his
shoulder, and left the encampment. He had hardly disappeared ere the
hunters lay down on the ground, and crawled on his trail, Carmela guided
by Singing-bird forming the rearguard. The maiden felt an involuntary
shudder run over her limbs as she entered the forest. This night march,
whose issue might prove so fatal, terrified her, and suggested gloomy
forebodings, which she feared to see realised at every step.
In the meanwhile Fray Antonio continued his journey, and soon emerged
from the forest. Far from his resolution being shaken, the nearer he
drew to the Apaches he felt it, on the contrary, become firmer. The monk
was eager to prove to the hunters that he was worthy the confidence they
placed in him; and if at times the thought of the dangers to which he
exposed himself crossed his mind, he drove it off, being determined to
risk his life, if needed, in saving Doña Carmela, and preventing her
falling into the hands of the cruel enemies who were preparing to seize
her.
Fray Antonio had gone hardly five hundred yards from the forest, when a
man suddenly emerged from a thicket and barred his passage. The monk
suppressed with difficulty a cry of terror at this unexpected
apparition, and started back. But immediately regaining his coolness, he
prepared to sustain the terrible contest that doubtless menaced him, for
he had recognised Blue-fox at the first glance. The Chief examined him
in silence, fixing on him his deep black eye with an expression of
suspicion which did not escape the monk.
"My father has been a long time," he at length said, harshly.
"I could not be any quicker," the monk answered.
"Wah! My father returns alone; the great Pale warrior was afraid; he did
not accompany my father."
"You are mistaken, Chief; the man you call the great Pale hunter, and
whom I call Tranquil, was not afraid, and did not refuse to accompany
me."
"Och! Blue-fox is a Sachem; his eye pierces the thickest darkness;
though he may look he sees nothing."
"That is probably because you do not look in the right direction, that's
all."
"My father will explain. Blue-fox desires to know how his Pale friend
carried out the mission the Sachem confided to him."
"I took the best advantage possible of my meeting with the hunter, in
order to carry out the orders I had received."
"My father will pardon me, I am only a poor Indian without brains;
things must be repeated to me several times before I can understand
them. Will the great Pale hunter come?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"At once."
"Where is he then?"
"I left him over there, at the verge of the forest. He is waiting for
the Chief."
Blue-fox started at this remark, and fixed on the monk a glance which
seemed trying to read the most secret thoughts of his heart.
"Why did he not accompany my father here?" he said.
The monk assumed the most simple look possible.
"On my faith, I do not know," he answered; "but of what consequence is
it?"
"It is pleasanter to converse on the prairie."
"Do you think so? Well, it is possible. For my part I do not see any
difference between here and there."
This was said with such apparent carelessness, that, in spite of all his
craft, the Chief was deceived.
"Has the great Pale hunter come alone?"
"No," Fray Antonio replied, boldly.
"If that be so, Blue-fox will not go."
"The Chief will reflect."
"What is the use of reflecting? The father has deceived his Red friend."
"The hunter could not come alone."
"Why not?"
"Because he did not wish to leave in the forest the girl who accompanies
him."
The Indian's face suddenly brightened, and assumed an expression of
extraordinary cunning.
"Wah!" he said, "And no other person but the young Pale virgin
accompanies the hunter?"
"No. It seems that the other white warriors who were with him left him
at daybreak."
"Does my father know where they are gone?"
"I did not inquire. That does not concern me. Every man has enough
business of his own without troubling himself about that of others."
"My father is a wise man."
The monk made no reply to this compliment.
These words were rapidly exchanged between the two men. Fray Antonio had
answered so naturally, and with such well-played frankness, that the
Indian, whose secret thoughts the Mexican's answers flattered, felt all
his suspicions vanish, and went, head down, into the snare so adroitly
laid for him.
"Och!" he said, "Blue-fox will see his friend."
"The father can return to the camp of the Apache warriors."
"No, thank you, Chief," the monk answered, resolutely, "I prefer
remaining with people of my own colour."
Blue-fox reflected for an instant, and then replied, with an ironical
smile playing round his thin lips--
"Good; my father is right. He can follow me, then."
"It is evident," the monk thought to himself, "that this accursed pagan
is devising some treachery. But I will watch him, and at the slightest
suspicious movement I will blow out his brains like the dog he is."
But he kept these reflections to himself, and followed the Chief with an
easy and perfectly indifferent air. In the moonbeams, which allowed
objects to be distinguished for a considerable distance, they soon
perceived, on the extreme verge of the forest, the dark outline of a man
leaning on a rifle.
"Ah," the Chief said, "we must make ourselves known."
"That need not trouble you. I take it on myself to warn the hunter when
the time arrives."
"Good," the Indian muttered, and they continued to advance.
Blue-fox, though he placed confidence in his companion, only advanced,
however, with extreme caution and prudence, examining the shrubs, and
even the smallest tufts of grass, as if assuring himself that they
concealed no enemy. But, with the exception of the man they perceived
before them, the place seemed plunged in profound solitude; all was calm
and motionless; no unusual sound troubled the silence.
"Let us stop here," said Fray Antonio, "it would be imprudent for us to
advance further without announcing ourselves, although the hunter has
probably recognized us already; for, as you perceive, Chief, he has not
made the slightest move."
"That is true, but it is as well to be cautious," the other replied.
They stopped at about twenty yards from the covert, where Fray Antonio
placed his hands funnel-wise on either side his mouth, and shouted at
the full extent of his lungs--
"Hilloh! Tranquil, is that you?"
"Who calls me?" the latter immediately answered.
"I--Fray Antonio. I am accompanied by the person you are expecting."
"Advance without fear," Tranquil replied. "Those who seek me without any
intention of treachery have nothing to fear from me."
The monk turned to the Apache Chief. "What shall we do?" he asked him.
"Go on," the latter replied, laconically.
The distance which separated them from the hunter was soon covered; and
the Mexican becoming an impromptu master of the ceremonies, presented
the two men to each other. The Sachem took a searching glance around
him.
"I do not see the young Pale girl," he said.
"Did you wish to speak to her or to me?" the Canadian answered, drily.
"I am ready to listen to you. What have you to say to me?"
The Indian frowned; his suspicions were returning; he gave a menacing
glance at the monk, who, obeying the advice given him, had insensibly
withdrawn a few steps, and was preparing to be an apparently calm
witness of the coming scene. Still, after an internal conflict of some
seconds, the Sachem succeeded in mastering the wrath that agitated him,
and assumed an affable and confiding countenance.
"I only wished to speak to my brother," he replied, in an insinuating
voice; "Blue-fox has for many moons desired to see again the face of a
friend."
"If it were really as the Chief says," the hunter continued, "nothing
could have been more easy. Many days have succeeded one to the other;
many years have been swallowed up in the immense gulf of the past, since
the period when, young and full of faith, I called Blue-fox my friend.
At that period he had a Pawnee heart; but now that he has plucked it
from his bosom, to exchange it for an Apache heart, I know him no
longer."
"The great hunter of the Palefaces is severe to his Red brother," the
Indian answered, with feigned humility, "What matter the days that have
passed, if the hunter finds again his friend of the olden time?"
The Canadian smiled disdainfully as he shrugged his shoulders.
"Am I an old woman, to be deceived by the smooth words of a forked
tongue?" he said. "Blue-fox is dead; my eyes only see here an Apache
Chief, that is to say, an enemy."
"Let my brother remove the skin from his heart, he will recognise a
friend," the Indian continued, still in a honeyed voice.
Tranquil involuntarily felt impatient at such cynical impudence.
"A truce to fine speeches, whose sincerity I do not believe in," he
said. "Was he my friend who a few days ago tried to carry off my
daughter, and at the head of his warriors attacked the calli in which
she dwelt, and which is now reduced to ashes?"
"My brother has heard the mockingbird whisper in his ear, and put faith
in its falsehoods; the mocker is a chattering and lying bird."
"You are more chattering and lying than the mocker," Tranquil exclaimed,
as he violently stamped the butt of his rifle on the ground. "For the
last time I repeat to you that I regard you not as a friend, but as an
enemy. Now, we have nothing more to say to one another, so let us
separate, for this unpleasant conference has already lasted too long."
The Indian took a piercing glance around him, and his eye sparkled
ferociously.
"We will not part thus," he said, as he walked two or three steps nearer
the hunter, who still remained motionless. The latter attentively
followed his every movement, while affecting the most perfect
confidence.
As for Fray Antonio, through certain signs that do not deceive men
accustomed to Indian tricks, he understood that the moment for acting
vigorously was fast approaching, and while continuing to feign the most
perfect indifference to the interview of which he was witness, he had
quietly drawn the pistols from under his gown, and held them cocked in
his hand, ready to employ them at the first alarm. The situation was
growing most awkward between the two speakers: each was preparing for
the struggle, although the faces were still calm and their voices
gentle.
"Yes," Tranquil continued, without displaying the slightest emotion, "we
will part thus, Chief, and may Heaven grant that we may never find
ourselves face to face again."
"Before separating, the hunter will answer one question."
"I will not, for this conversation has lasted too long already.
Farewell!"
And he fell back a pace. The Sachem stretched forth his arm to stop him.
"One word!"
"I will not," the Canadian replied.
"Then die, miserable dog of a Paleface," the Chief exclaimed, at length
throwing off the mask and brandishing his tomahawk with extreme
rapidity.
But at the same instant a man rose like a black phantom behind the
Apache Chief, threw his arms round his body, and lifting him with
wondrous strength, hurled him to the ground, and placed his knee on his
chest, ere the Sachem, surprised and alarmed by this sudden attack, had
attempted to defend himself.
At the yell uttered by Blue-fox, some fifty Apache warriors appeared as
if by enchantment, but almost at the same moment the hunter's comrades,
who, although invisible, had attentively followed the incidents of this
scene, stood by the Canadian's side. Fray Antonio, from whom they were
far from expecting such resolution, brought down two Apaches with his
pistols, and rejoined the Whites.
Two groups of implacable enemies were thus opposed; unfortunately, the
hunters were very weak against the numerous foes that surrounded them on
all sides. Still, their firm demeanour and flashing eyes evidenced their
unbending resolution to let themselves be killed to the last man, sooner
than surrender to the Redskins.
It was an imposing spectacle offered by this handful of men surrounded
by implacable foes, and who yet seemed as calm as if they were peaceably
seated round their campfire. Carmela and Singing-bird, suffering from
sharp pangs of terror, pressed all in a tremor to the side of their
friends.
Blue-fox still lay on the ground, held down by Black-deer, whose knee
compressed his chest, and neutralised all the tremendous efforts he made
to rise. The Apaches, with their long barbed arrows pointed at the
hunters, only awaited a word or a sign to begin the attack. A silence of
death brooded over the prairie: it seemed as if these men, before
tearing each other to pieces, were collecting all their strength to
bound forward and rush on each other. Black-deer was the first to break
the silence.
"Wah!" he shouted, in a voice rendered hoarse with passion, as he
brandished over his enemy's head his scalping knife, whose blade emitted
sinister gleams; "at length I meet thee, dog, thief, chicken heart; I
hold my vengeance in my hands; at last thy scalp will adorn my horse's
mane."
"Thou art but a chattering old woman; thy insults cannot affect me, so
try something else. Blue-fox laughs at thee; thou can'st not compel him
to utter a cry of pain or make a complaint."
"I will follow thy advice," Black-deer shouted, passionately, and seized
his enemy's scalp lock.
"Stop, I insist," the Canadian shouted, in a thundering voice, as he
seized the arm of the vindictive Chief.
The latter obeyed.
"Let that man rise," Tranquil continued.
Black-deer gave him a ferocious glance, but made no reply.
"It must be so," the hunter said.
The Comanche Chief bent his head, restored his enemy to liberty, and
fell back a pace. With one bound Blue-fox sprang up; but, instead of
attempting flight, he crossed his arms on his chest, resumed that mask
of impenetrable stoicism which Indians so rarely doff, and waited.
Tranquil regarded him for a moment with a singular expression, and then
said---
"I was wrong just now, and my brother must pardon me. No, the memories
of youth are not effaced like clouds which the wind bears away. When I
saw the terrible danger that menaced Blue-fox, my heart was affected,
and I remembered that we had been for a long time friends. I trembled to
see his blood flow before me. Blue-fox is a great Chief, he must die as
a warrior in the sunshine, he is free to rejoin his friends; he can
go."
The Chief raised his head.
"On what conditions?" he said, drily.
"On none. If the Apache warriors attack us, we will fight them; if not,
we will continue our journey peacefully. The Chief must, decide, for
events depend on his will."
Tranquil, in acting as he had done, had furnished an evident proof of
the profound knowledge he possessed of the character of the Redskins,
among whom any heroic action is immediately appreciated at its full
value. It was a dangerous game to play, but the situation of the hunters
was desperate, despite their courage; if the fight had begun, they must
have been naturally crushed by numbers, and pitilessly massacred. For
the success of his plan the Canadian could only calculate on a good
feeling on the part of Blue-fox, and he had staked his all.
After carefully listening to Tranquil's remarks, Blue-fox remained
silent for some minutes, during which a violent combat went on in his
heart; he felt that he was the dupe of the snare into which he had tried
to draw the hunter by reminding him of their old friendship; but the
murmurs of admiration, which his warriors were unable to suppress, on
seeing the Canadian's noble deed, warned him that he must dissimulate,
and feign a gratitude which he was far from experiencing.
The power of an Indian Chief is always very precarious; and he is often
constrained, in spite of himself, to bow before the demands of his
subordinates, if he does not wish to be overthrown and have a new Chief
set up immediately in his place. Blue-fox, therefore, slowly drew his
scalping knife from his belt, and let it fall at the hunter's feet.
"The great White hunter and his brothers can continue to follow their
path," he said; "the eyes of the Apache warriors are closed, they will
not see them. The Palefaces can depart, they will find no one on their
road till the second moon from this; but then they must take care; an
Apache Chief will set himself on their trail, in order to ask back from
them the knife he leaves them, and which he will require."
The Canadian stooped down and picked up the knife, which he passed
through his belt.
"When Blue-fox asks me for it, he will find it there," he said, as he
pointed to it.
"Och! I will manage to take it again. Now, we are even. Farewell!"
The Chief then bowed courteously to his enemies, made a prodigious bound
back, and disappeared in the lofty grass. The Apache warriors uttered
their war yell twice, and almost immediately their black outlines
disappeared in the gloom. Tranquil waited for a few minutes, and then
turned to his comrades.
"Now, we will set out," he said; "the road is free."
"You got out of the scrape cleverly," Loyal Heart said to him; "but it
was a terrible risk."
The Canadian smiled, but made no further reply. Then they started.