STRONGHAND
OR
THE NOBLE REVENGE
BY
GUSTAVE AIMARD
AUTHOR OF "PRAIRIE FLOWER," "BUCCANEER CHIEF," ETC.
LONDON
WARD AND LOCK, 158, FLEET STREET
MDCCCLXIV
CONTENTS.
I. AN EXCHANGE OF SHOTS
II. ON THE PRAIRIE
III. THE BIVOUAC
IV. THE POST OF SAN MIGUEL
V. THE STAY IN THE FOREST
VI. A GLANCE AT THE PAST
VII. THE FAMILY TRIBUNAL
VIII. THE TWO BROTHERS
IX. A NEW CHARACTER
X. DON JOSÉ PAREDES
XI. ON THE ROAD
XII. A CONVERSATION BY NIGHT
XIII. THE REAL DE MINAS
XIV. THE BARGAIN
XV. THE PAPAZOS
XVI. THE ATEPETL
XVII. THE SPY
XVIII. THE COUNCIL OF THE SACHEMS
XIX. THE RANCHO
XX. LOST!
XXI. STRONGHAND
XXII. THE RETURN
XXIII. CHANCE WORK
XXIV. FATHER AND SON
XXV. THE HATCHET
XXVI. THE WHITE-SKINS
XXVII. SERIOUS EVENTS
XXVIII. THE TIGRERO
XXIX. THE EXCURSION
XXX. THE HUNTER'S CAMP
XXXI. THE LEGEND
XXXII. KIDD REAPPEARS
XXXIII. COMPLICATIONS
XXXIV. TWO VILLAINS
XXXV. A FRIENDLY BARGAIN
XXXVI. THE HACIENDA DEL TORO
XXXVII. THE HUERTA
XXXVIII. THE ASSAULT ON QUITOVAR
XXXIX. THE VENGEANCE OF HEAVEN
XL. FUNERAL OF A SACHEM
STRONGHAND
CHAPTER I.
AN EXCHANGE OF SHOTS.
The country extending between the Sierra de San Saba and the Rio
Puerco, or Dirty River, is one of the most mournful and melancholy
regions imaginable.
This accursed savannah, on which bleach unrecognized skeletons, which
the wind and sun strive to convert into dust, is an immense desert,
broadcast with grey rocks, beneath which snakes and wild beasts have,
from time immemorial, formed their lurking-place, and which only
produces black shrubs and stunted larches that rise from distance to
distance above the desert.
White or Indian travellers rarely and most unwillingly venture to
cross this frightful solitude, and at the risk of lengthening their
journey they prefer making a detour and following the border, where
they are certain of finding shade and water--those delights of tropical
countries and indispensable necessities for a long trip on the western
prairies.
Towards the second half of June--which the Navajo Indians call the
"strawberry moon" in their harmonious language--and in the Year of
Grace 1843, a horseman suddenly emerged from a thick clump of oaks,
sumachs, and mahogany trees, entered the savannah at a gallop, and,
instead of following the usual travellers' track, which was distinctly
traced on the edge of the sand, he began without any hesitation
crossing the desert in a straight line.
This resolution was a mark of great folly, or a proof of extraordinary
daring on the part of a solitary man, however brave he might be; or
else some imperious reasons compelled him to lay aside all prudence in
order to reach his journey's end more speedily.
However, whatever the motives that might determine the traveller, he
continued his journey rapidly, and buried himself deeper and deeper in
the desert, without seeming to notice the gloomy and desolate aspect
the landscape around him constantly assumed.
As this person is destined to play an important part in our story, we
will draw his portrait in a few words. He was a man of from twenty-five
to thirty years of age--belonging to the pure Mexican race, of average
height, and possessed of elegant manners; while his every gesture,
graceful though it was, revealed a far from ordinary strength. His
face, with its regular features and bright hue, evidenced frankness,
bravery, and kindliness; his black eyes, haughty and well open,
had a straight and penetrating glance; his well cut mouth, adorned
with dazzling white teeth, was half concealed beneath a long brown
moustache; his chin, of too marked an outline perhaps, denoted a great
firmness of character; in short, his whole appearance aroused interest
and attracted sympathy.
As for his dress, it was the Mexico costume in all its picturesque
richness. His broad-brimmed Vicuna skin hat, decorated with a double
gold and silver _golilla_, was carelessly set on his right ear, and
allowed curls of luxurious black hair to fall in disorder on his
shoulders. He wore a jacket of green velvet, magnificently embroidered
with gold, under which could be seen a worked linen shirt. An Indian
handkerchief was fastened round his neck by a diamond ring. His
_calzoneras_, also of green velvet, held round his hips by a red silk
gold-fringed _faja_ were embroidered and slashed like a jacket, while
two rows of pearl-set gold buttons ran along the opening that extends
from the boot to the knee. His vaquero boots, embroidered with pretty
designs in red thread, were fastened to his legs by silk and gold
garters, from one of which emerged the admirably carved hilt of a long
knife. His zarapé, of Indian fabric and showy colours, was folded on
the back of his horse, an animal full of fire, with fine legs, small
head, and flashing eye. It was a true prairie mustang; and its master
had decorated it with the coquettish elegance peculiar to Mexican
horsemen.
In addition to the knife we referred to, and which the horseman wore
in his right boot, he had also a long American rifle laid across his
saddle-bow, two six-shot revolvers in his girdle, a machete, or species
of straight sabre, which was passed, unsheathed, through an iron ring
on his left side; and, lastly, a reata of plaited leather, rolled up
and fastened to the saddle.
Thus armed, the man we have just described was able--on the admission
that his determined appearance was not deceitful--to make head against
several adversaries at once, without any serious disadvantage. This
was a consideration not at all to be despised in a country where a
traveller ever runs the risk of encountering an enemy, whether man or
beast, and, at times both together.
While galloping, the horseman carelessly smoked a husk cigarette, only
taking an absent and disdainful glance at the coveys of birds that rose
on his approach, or the herds of deer and packs of foxes which fled in
terror on hearing the horse's gallop.
The savannah, however, was already beginning to assume a more gloomy
tinge; the sun, now level with the ground, only appeared on the horizon
as a red unheated ball, and night was soon about to cover the earth
with its dense gloom. The horseman drew up the bridle of his steed
to check its speed, though not entirely stopping it, and, casting an
investigating glance around him, seemed to be seeking a suitable spot
for his night halt.
After a few seconds of this search, the traveller's determination was
formed. He turned slightly to the left, and proceeded to a half dried
up stream that ran along a short distance off, and on whose banks grew
a few prickly shrubs and a clump of some dozen larches, forming a
precarious shelter against the curiosity of those mysterious denizens
of the desert that prowl about in search of prey during the darkness.
On drawing nearer, the traveller perceived to his delight that this
spot, perfectly hidden from prying glances, by the conformation of the
ground and a few blocks of stone scattered here and there among the
trees and shrubs, offered him an almost certain shelter.
The journey had been tiring; and both man and horse felt themselves
worn with fatigue. Both, before proceeding further, imperiously
required a few hours' rest.
The horseman, as an experienced traveller, first attended to his steed,
which he unsaddled and led to drink at the stream; then, after hobbling
the animal for fear it might stray and become the prey of wild beasts,
he stretched his zarapé on the ground, threw a few handfuls of Indian
corn upon it, and when he was assured that his horse, in spite of its
fatigue, was eating its provender willingly, he thought about himself.
Mexicans, when travelling, carry behind their saddle two canvas bags,
called _alforjas_, intended to convey food, which it is impossible to
procure in the desert; and these, with two jars filled with drinking
water, form the sole baggage with which they cover enormous distances,
and endure privations and fatigue, the mere enumeration of which would
terrify Europeans, who are accustomed to enjoy all the conveniences
supplied by an advanced stage of civilization.
The horseman opened his alforjas, sat down on the ground with his back
against a rock, and, while careful that his weapons were within reach,
for fear of being attacked unawares, he began supping philosophically
on a piece of tasajo, some maize tortillas, and goat's cheese as hard
as a flint, the whole being washed down with the pure water of the
stream.
This repast, which was more than frugal, was soon terminated. The
horseman, after cleaning his teeth with an elegant gold toothpick,
rolled a pajilla, smoked it with that conscientious beatitude peculiar
to the Hispano-Americans, and then wrapped himself in his zarapé, shut
his eyes, and fell asleep.
Several hours passed; and it is probable that the traveller's sleep
would have been prolonged for some time, had not two shots, fired a
short distance from him, suddenly aroused him from his lethargy. The
general rule on the prairie is, that when you hear a shot, it is rare
for it not to have been preceded by the whistle of a bullet past your
ear--in other words, there are ninety-nine reasons in a hundred that
the lonely man has been unconsciously converted into the target of an
assassin.
The traveller, thus unpleasantly aroused, seized his weapons, concealed
himself behind a rock, and waited. Then, as after the expiration of
a moment, the attack was not renewed, he rose softly, and carefully
looked around him.
Not a sound disturbed the majestic solitude of the desert. But this
sudden tranquillity after the two shots, instead of re-assuring the
traveller, only augmented his anxiety, by revealing to him the approach
of a certain danger, though it was impossible for him to divine the
cause or the magnitude.
The night was clear, and, so to speak, transparent; the sky, of a deep
blue, was studded with a profusion of sparkling stars, and the moon
shed a white and melancholy light, that allowed the country to be
surveyed for a long distance.
At all hazards he saddled his horse; then, after concealing it in a
rocky cavity, he lay down, placed his ear to the ground, and listened.
Then he fancied he could hear a long distance off a sound, at first
almost imperceptible, but which rapidly approached; and he soon
recognized in it the wild galloping of several horses.
It was a hunt, or a pursuit. But who would dream of hunting in the
middle of the night? The Indians would not venture it, while white and
half-bred trappers only rarely visited these deserted regions, which
they abandoned to the savages and border ruffians; utter villains, who,
expelled from the towns and pueblos, have no other shelter than the
desert.
Were the galloping horsemen pirates of the prairie, then?
The situation was becoming painful to the traveller when, all at once,
the noise ceased, and all became silent.
The traveller rose from the ground.
Suddenly, the shrieks of a woman or girl burst forth on the night, with
an expression of terror and agony impossible to depict.
The stranger, leaving his horse in the shelter he had selected for it,
dashed forward in the direction whence the cry came, leaping from rock
to rock and clearing shrubs, at the risk of hurting himself, with the
feverish speed of the brave man who believes himself suddenly called
by Providence to save a fellow being in danger.
Still, prudence did not desert him in his hazardous enterprise; and,
before risking himself on the plain, he stopped behind a fringe of
larch trees, in order to try and find out what was going on, and act in
accordance.
This is what he saw:--two men, who from their appearance he at once
recognized as belonging to the worst species of prairie runners, were
madly pursuing a young girl. But, thanks to her juvenile agility--an
agility doubtless doubled by the profound terror the bandits inspired
her with--this maiden bounded like a startled fawn across the prairie,
leaping ravines, clearing every obstacle, and gaining at each moment
a greater advance on her pursuers, who were impeded by their vaquero
boots and heavy rifles.
A few minutes later, and the maiden reached the belt of trees behind
which the traveller had concealed himself. The latter was about to rush
to her assistance, when suddenly one of the bandits raised his rifle
and pulled the trigger.
The girl fell, and the horseman seemed to change his mind--for instead
of advancing, he drew himself back and stood motionless, with his
finger on the trigger, ready to fire.
The pirates rapidly approached, talking together in that medley of
English, French, Spanish and Indian which is employed throughout the
Far West.
"Hum!" said a hoarse and panting voice; "What a gazelle! At one moment
I really thought she would escape us."
"Yes, yes," the other answered, shaking his head and tapping the
barrel of his rifle with his right hand; "but I always felt certain of
bringing her down when I thought proper."
"Yes, and you did not miss her, _caray!_ Although it was a long shot,
and your hand must have trembled after such a chase."
"Habit, compadre! Habit!" the bandit answered, with a modest smile.
While talking thus, the two bandits had reached the spot where the body
of the girl lay. One of them knelt down, doubtless to assure himself
of the death of their victim; while the other, the one who had fired,
looked on carelessly, leaning on his rifle.
The traveller then drew himself up, raised his piece, and fired. The
bandit, struck in the centre of the breast, sank down like a sack, and
did not stir. He was dead.
His companion had started and laid his hand on his _machete_; but not
leaving him time to employ it, the traveller rushed on him, and with a
powerful blow of the butt end on his head, sent him to join his comrade
on the ground, where he rolled, half killed.
The traveller, taking the bandit's reata, then firmly bound his hands
and feet; and, easy in mind on this point, he eagerly approached the
maiden. The poor girl gave no sign of life, but, for all that, was not
dead; her wound, indeed, was slight, as the pirate's bullet had merely
grazed her arm. Terror alone had produced her fainting fit.
The stranger carefully bandaged the wound, slightly moistened her
lips and temples, and, after a comparatively short period, had the
satisfaction of seeing her open her eyes again.
"Oh!" she murmured, in a voice soft and melodious as a bird's song,
"Those men--those demons! Oh! Heaven! Protect me!"
"Reassure yourself, Señorita," the traveller answered; "you have
nothing further to fear from those villains."
The maiden started at the sound of this strange voice; she fixed
her eyes on the stranger without giving him any answer, and made an
instinctive movement to rise. She doubtless took the man who had spoken
for one of her pursuers. The latter smiled mournfully, and pointed to
the two bandits lying on the ground.
"Look, Señorita," he said to her; "you have only a friend here."
At this sight an expression of unbounded gratitude illumined the
wounded girl's face, and a sickly smile appeared on her lips; but
almost immediately her features grew saddened again. She sprang up,
and raising herself on the tips of her small feet, she stretched out
her right arm toward a point on the horizon, and exclaimed in a voice
broken by terror--
"There, there! Look!"
The stranger turned to the indicated direction. A party of horsemen
were coming up at full speed, preceded about a rifle shot distance by
another horseman, evidently better mounted than they, and whom they
appeared to be pursuing. The stranger then remembered the furious
galloping he had heard a few moments previously.
"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, clasping her hands in entreaty, "Save him,
Señor! Save him!"
"I will try, Señorita," he replied, gently; "all that a man can do, I
swear to do."
"Thank you," she said, offering him her pretty little hand; "you are a
noble-hearted man, and Heaven will aid you."
"You must not remain here exposed to the insults of these men, who are
evidently the comrades of those from whom you have just escaped."
"That is true," she said; "but what can I do? Where shall I seek
shelter?"
"Follow me behind these trees; we have not a moment to lose."
"Come," she said, resolutely. "But you will save him! Will you not?"
"At least I will try. I have only my life to offer the person in whom
you take an interest; and believe me, Señorita, I shall not hesitate to
make the sacrifice."
The maiden looked down with a blush, and silently followed her guide.
They soon reached the thicket in which the stranger had established his
quarters for the night.
"Whatever happens," he said, while reloading his rifle, "remain here,
Señorita. You are in safety in this hollow rock, where no one will
dream of seeking you. For my part, I am going to help your friend."
"Go," she said, as she knelt down on the ground; "while you are
fighting I will pray for you--and Heaven will grant my prayer."
"Yes," the stranger answered, mournfully, "God listens gladly to the
voice of angels, so let us hope for the best."
He leaped on his horse; and after giving a parting glance at the
maiden, who was praying fervently, he dashed at full speed in the
direction of the newcomers. There were seven in number--bandits with
stern faces and dangerous aspect, who dashed up brandishing their
weapons and uttering horrible yells.
The pursued horseman, on seeing a man emerge so unexpectedly from the
thicket, and come towards him at full speed, rifle in hand, naturally
supposed that assistance was arriving for his foes, and dashed on one
side to avoid a man whom he assumed, with some show of reason, to be an
adversary the more. But the bandits were not mistaken when they saw the
stranger not only let their prey escape, but stop in front of them and
cock his rifle.
Two shots were fired at the same moment, one by a bandit the other
by the stranger, with the difference, however, that the bandit's
shot, being fired haphazard was harmless; while the stranger's, being
deliberately aimed, struck exactly in the mass of his serried foes.
A few seconds later, one of them let go his bridle, beat the air with
his arms, fell back on his horse, and at length on the ground, tearing
with his huge spurs the sides of his steed, which reared, kicked, and
started off like an arrow.
A war so frankly declared could not have a sudden termination: four
shots succeeding each other with extreme rapidity on either side were
a sufficient proof of this. But the stranger's position was growing
critical: his rifle was discharged, and he had only his revolvers left.
The revolver, by the way, is a weapon more convenient than useful in
a fight, for if you wish to hit your man, you must fire at him almost
point blank, otherwise the bullets have a tendency to stray. This is a
sufficient explanation why, in spite of the immoderate use the North
Americans make of this weapon, the number of murders among them is
proportionately limited.
The stranger was, therefore, somewhat embarrassed, and was preparing in
his emergency for a hand-to-hand fight, when help he had been far from
calculating on suddenly reached him.
The pursued horseman, on hearing the firing, and yet finding no bullets
whizzed past him, understood that something unusual was taking place,
and that some strange incident must have occurred in his favour.
Hence he turned back, and saw one of his enemies fall. Recognising
his mistake, he made up his mind at once: though only armed with a
_machete_, he wheeled his horse round and bravely drew up alongside
his defender.
Then the two men, without exchanging a word, resolutely dashed at the
bandits. The contest was short--the success unhoped for. Moreover, the
sides were nearly equal, for of the seven pirates only four were now
alive.
The attack was so sudden, that the pirates had not time to reload. Two
were killed with revolver shots. The third fell with his head severed
by a _machete_ blow from the horseman, who was burning to take an
exemplary vengeance; while the fourth, finding himself alone leaped his
horse over the corpses of his comrades, and fled at full speed without
attempting to continue longer a combat which could not but be fatal to
him.
The two men consequently remained masters of the battlefield.