More cautiously than ever, we now crept along the trail--advancing only
after the ground had been thoroughly "quartered" by the scouts. Time
was of the least consequence. The fresh sign of the Indians told us
they were but a short way ahead of us: we believed we could have ridden
within sight of them at any moment.
We did not wish to set eyes on them before sunset. It could be no
advantage to us to overtake them on the march, but the contrary. Some
lagging Indian might be found in the rear of the band; we might come in
contact with him, and thus defeat all our designs.
We hung back, therefore--allowing sufficient time for the savages to
pitch their camp, and for their stragglers to get into it.
On the other hand, I did not desire to arrive late. The council was to
be held that night--so she had learned--and after the council would come
the _crisis_. I must be in time for both.
At what hour would the council take place?
It might be just after they had halted. The son of a chief, and a chief
himself--for the white renegade was a leader of red men--a question
between two such men would not remain long undecided. And a question of
so much importance--involving such consequence--property in body and
soul--possession of the most beautiful woman in the world!
Oh! I wondered! Could these hideous, ochre-stained, grease-bedaubed
brutes appreciate that peerless beauty? Impossible, I thought. The
delicate lines of her loveliness would be lost upon their gross eyes and
coarse sensual hearts. That pearl beyond price--paste would have
satisfied them as well--they could not distinguish the diamond from
common glass.
And yet the Comanche is not without love-craft. Coarse as might be the
passion, no doubt they loved her--both loved her--red savage and white
savage.
For this very reason, the "trial" would not be delayed; the question
would be speedily decided--in order that the quarrel of the chiefs might
be brought to an end. For this very reason, the crisis might be
hastened, the council take place at an early hour; for this very reason,
I too must needs be early upon the spot.
It was my aim to arrive within sight of the Indian encampment just
before night--in the twilight, if possible--that we might be able to
make reconnoissance of the ground before darkness should cover it from
our view. We were desirous of acquainting ourselves with the lay of the
surrounding country as well--so that, in the event of our escape, we
should know which was the best direction to take.
We timed our advance by the sign upon the trail. The keen scouts could
tell, almost to a minute, when the latest tracks were made; and by this
we were guided. Both glided silently along, their eyes constantly and
earnestly turned upon the ground.
Mine were more anxiously bent upon the sky; from that quarter I most
feared an obstacle to the execution of my purpose. What a change had
come over my desires!--how different were they from those of the two
preceding nights! The very same aspect of the heavens that had hitherto
chagrined and baffled me, would now have been welcome. In my heart, I
had lately execrated the clouds; in that same heart, I was now praying
for cloud, and storm, and darkness!
Now could I have blessed the clouds, but there were none to bless--not a
speck appeared over the whole face of the firmament--the eye beheld only
the illimitable ether.
In another hour, that boundless blue would be studded with millions of
bright stars; and, silvered by the light of a resplendent moon, the
night would be as day.
I was dismayed at the prospect. I prayed for cloud and storm, and
darkness. Human heart! when blinded by its own petty passions,
unreasoning and unreasonable; my petition was opposed to the unalterable
laws of nature--it could not be heard.
I can scarcely describe how the aspect of that bright sky troubled and
pained me. The night-bird, which joys only in deepest darkness, could
not have liked it less. Should there be moonlight, the enterprise would
be made more perilous--doubly more. Should there be moonlight--why need
I form an hypothesis? Moonlight there _would_ be to a certainty. It
was the middle of the lunar month, and the moon would be up almost as
the sun went down--full, round, and almost as bright as he--with no
cloud to cover her face, to shroud the earth from her white light.
Certainly there would be moonlight!
Well thought of was that disguise--well spent our labour in making it so
perfect. Under the moonlight, to it only could I trust; by it only
might I expect to preserve my incognito.
But the eye of the Indian savage is sharp, and his perception keen--
almost as instinct itself. I could not rely much upon my borrowed
plumes, should speech be required from me. Just on account of the
cunning imitation, the perfectness of the pattern, some friends of the
original might have business with me--might approach and address me. I
knew but a few words of Comanche--how should I escape from the colloquy?
Such thoughts were troubling me as we rode onward.
Night was near; the sun's lower limb rested on the far horizon of the
west: the hour was an anxious one to me.
The scouts had been for some time in the advance, without returning to
report: and we had halted in a copse to wait for them. A high hill was
before us, wooded only at the summit; over this hill the war-trail led.
We had observed the scouts go into the timber. We kept our eyes upon
the spot, waiting for their return.
Presently one of them appeared just outside the edge of the wood--Garey,
we saw it was. He made signs to us to come on.
We rode up the hill, and entered among the trees. After going a little
farther, we diverged from the trail. The scout guided us through the
trunks over the high summit. On the other side, the wood extended only
a little below; but we did not ride beyond it; we halted before coming
to its edge, and dismounting, tied our horses to the trees.
We crept forward on our hands and knees till we had reached the utmost
verge of the timber; through the leaves we peered, looking down into the
plain beyond. We saw smokes and fires, and a skin-lodge in their midst;
we saw dark forms around--men moving over the ground, and horses with
their heads to the grass: we were looking upon the camp of the
Comanches.