THE PAPAZOS.
We will not return to Stronghand and José Paredes, whom we have left
too long at the top of the hill. The night passed without any incident,
the majordomo sleeping like a man overcome by fatigue; as for the
hunter, he did not close his eyes once. The sun had risen for a long
time; it was nearly nine o'clock, but the hunter, forgetting apparently
what he had said to his comrade, did not dream of departure. José
Paredes slept on. It was a magnificent day; the sky, swept by the
night hurricane, was cloudless; the sun darted down its glowing beams;
and yet the atmosphere, tempered by the storm, retained an agreeable
freshness. The water was disappearing with a rapidity almost equalling
that it bad displayed in rising, being drunk by the thirsty sand or by
the hot sunbeams; the plain had lost its lacustrine appearance; and all
led to the supposition that by midday the ground would be firm enough
to be ventured on in safety.
As the canoe was unnecessary, the hunter did not try to get it down
from the tree; with his back leant against the larch tree, his hands
folded, and his head bowed on his chest, he was thinking, and at
times taking an anxious glance at his sleeping comrade. At length the
majordomo turned, stretched out his arms and legs, opened his eyes, and
gave a formidable yawn.
"_¡Caramba!_" he said, as he measured the height of the sun; "I fancy I
have forgotten myself; it must be very late."
"Ten o'clock," the hunter answered with a smile.
"Ten o'clock!" José exclaimed, as he leaped up; "And you have let me
idle thus instead of waking me."
"You slept so soundly, my friend, that I had not the courage to do so."
"Hum!" Paredes replied, half laughing, half vexed; "I know not whether
I ought to complain or thank you for this weakness, for we have lost
precious time."
"Not at all; see, the water has disappeared; the ground is growing firm
again, and when the great heat of the day is spent we will mount our
horses and catch up in a few hours the time you are regretting."
"That is true, and you are right, comrade," said the majordomo, as
he looked around with the practised glance of a man accustomed to a
desert life. "Well, as it is so," he added, with a laugh, "suppose we
breakfast, for that will enable us to kill some time."
"Very good," the hunter replied, good humouredly. They breakfasted as
they had supped on the previous night. When the hour for starting at
length arrived, they saddled their horses and led them down the hill;
for the ascent which they had escaladed so actively by night, under
the impulse of the pressing danger that threatened them, now proved
extremely steep, abrupt, and difficult. When they mounted, Stronghand
said--"My friend, I am going to take you to an _atepetl_ of the
Redskins. Do you consider that disagreeable?"
"Not personally, but I will ask what advantage my master can derive
from it?"
"That question I am unable to answer at the moment. You must know,
though, that we are taking this step on your master's behalf, and that
his affairs, instead of suffering by it, will be greatly benefited."
"Let us go, then. One word, however, first. Are the Redskins, to whom
we are proceeding, a long distance off?"
"It would be almost a journey for any persons but us."
"Hum!" said Paredes.
"But you and I," the hunter continued, "who are true guides, and who
have also the advantage of being well mounted, will reach the village
at three or four o'clock tomorrow afternoon at the latest."
"In that case it is not very distant."
"I told you so."
"And in what direction is the village?"
"You must have often heard it spoken of, if chance has never led your
footsteps thither."
"Why so?"
"Because it is only a dozen leagues at the most from the Hacienda del
Toro."
"Wait a minute," the majordomo said, frowning like a man who is
collecting his thoughts; "you are right, I have never been to that
village, it is true, but I have often heard it spoken of. Is not one
of the chiefs a white man?"
The hunter blushed slightly.
"So people say," he answered.
"Is it not strange," the majordomo continued, "that a white man should
consent to abandon entirely the society of his fellows to live with
savages?"
"Why so?"
"Hang it! Because the Indians are devoid of reason, as everybody knows."
The hunter gave his companion a glance of indefinable meaning, slightly
shrugged his shoulders, but made no reply; probably from the reason
that he had too much to say, and considered the majordomo's rather
heavy mind incapable of appreciating it. The day passed without any
occurrences to interrupt the monotony of their ride, which they
continued with great speed till night, only stopping from time to time
to shoot a few birds for supper. Galloping, talking, and smoking, they
at length reached the spot where they intended to bivouac. The road
they had followed in no way resembled the one the majordomo had taken
on leaving the hacienda, although they were returning in the direction
of Arispe. This resulted from the fact that Paredes had kept in the
regular road, while this time the two men rode Indian fashion, that is
to say, straight ahead without troubling themselves about roads. They
galloped on as the bird flies, crossing mountains and swimming rivers
whenever they came to them, without losing time in seeking a ford.
This mode of travelling, generally adopted by the wood rangers of the
savannah, where the only roads are tracks made by the wild beasts,
would not be possible in civilized countries, where there are so many
towns and villages; but in Mexico, especially on the Indian border,
towns are excessively rare: by riding in this way distances are
marvellously shortened and a considerable tract is covered between two
sunrises. This is what happened to the two adventurers; for in one day
they went a greater distance than Paredes had done in eight-and-forty
hours, though he was well mounted. At night they camped in a wood
beyond the Hacienda del Toro, which building they saw rising gloomy and
tranquil like an eagle's nest on the top of its rock, and they passed
close to it during the afternoon.
The country assumed a wilder and more abrupt aspect; the grass was
thicker, the trees were larger, older, and closer together; it was
evident that the travellers were at the extreme limit of civilization,
and would soon find themselves in the Red territory, although
nominally, at least on the maps, this territory figured among the
possessions of the Mexican Confederation. This feature, by the way, is
found everywhere throughout the New World. Even in the United States,
which pretend, erroneously, we believe, to be more civilized than their
neighbours, towns with high-flown names may be seen on the maps of
their large possessions, which only exist in reality as a name painted
on a solitary post, planted in the centre of a plain or on the bank of
a river, without even a keeper to watch over the preservation of this
post, which, worn by wind and sun, eventually disappears, though the
town never sprung up in its place. During our travels we were too often
the victim of this humorous Yankee mystification not to feel angry with
this eccentric nation, which repeats to every newcomer that it marches
at the head of civilization, and has a mission to regenerate the New
World.
The two men, after lighting their watch fire, supped with good
appetite, rolled themselves in their zarapés, and fell asleep,
trusting to the instinct of their horses to warn them of the approach
of any enemy, whether man or wild beast, that attempted to surprise
them during their slumbers. But nothing disturbed them; the night was
quiet; at sunrise they awoke, mounted, and continued their journey,
which would only take a few hours longer.
"I am mistaken," the hunter said suddenly, turning to his companion.
"How so?" the latter asked.
"Because," Stronghand replied, "I told you yesterday we should not
reach the _atepetl_ till the afternoon."
"Well?"
"We shall be there by eleven o'clock."
"_¡Caramba!_ That is famous news."
"When we have crossed that hill we shall see the village a short
distance ahead of us, picturesquely grouped on the side of another
hill, and running into the plain, where the last houses are built on
the banks of a pretty little stream, whose white and limpid waters
serve as a natural rampart."
"Tell me, comrade, what do you think of the reception that will be
offered us?"
"The Papazos are hospitable."
"I do not doubt it; unluckily, I have no claims to the kindness of the
Redskins. Moreover, I know that they are very suspicious, and never
like to see white men enter their villages."
"That depends on the way in which white men try to enter them."
"There is another reason which, I confess, supplies me with reason for
grave thought."
"What is it?"
"It is said--mark me, I do not assert it--"
"All right; go on."
"It is said that the Papazos are excited, and on the point of
revolting, if they have not done so already."
"They rose in insurrection some days ago," Stronghand coolly answered.
"What?" the majordomo exclaimed, greatly startled, "and you are leading
me to them?"
"Why not?"
"Because we shall be massacred, that's all."
The hunter shrugged his shoulders.
"You are mad."
"I am mad--I am mad!" Paredes repeated, shaking his head very
dubiously; "it pleases you to say that, but I am not at all desirous,
if I can avoid it, of thus placing myself in the power of men who must
be my enemies."
"I repeat that nothing will happen to you. _¡Viva Dios!_ do you fancy
me capable of leading you into a snare?"
"No; on my honour that is not my thought; but you may be mistaken, and
credit these savages with feelings they do not possess."
"I am certain of what I assert. Not only have you nothing to fear, but
you will have an honourable reception."
"Honourable?" the majordomo remarked, with an air of incredulity; "I am
not very certain of that."
"You shall see. Woe to the man who dared to hurt a hair of your head
while you are in my company."
"Who are you, to speak thus?"
"A hunter, nothing else; but I am a friend of the Papazos, and adopted
son of one of their tribes; and every man, though he were the mortal
enemy of the nation, must for my sake, be received as a brother by the
sachems and warriors."
"Well, be it so," the majordomo muttered, in the tone of a man forced
in his last entrenchments, and who resolves to make up his mind.
"Besides," the hunter added, "any hesitation would now be useless and
perhaps dangerous."
"Why so?"
"Because the Indians have their scouts scattered through the woods and
over the plain already; they saw and signalled our approach long ago,
and if we attempted to turn back, it would justly appear suspicious;
and then we should suddenly see Indians rise all round us, and be
immediately made prisoners, before we even thought of defending
ourselves."
"_¡Demonio!_ that makes the matter singular, comrade; then you believe
we have been seen already?"
"Would you like to have a proof on the spot?" the hunter asked,
laughingly.
"Well, I should not mind, for I should then know what I have to expect."
"Well, I will give you the proof."
The travellers had reached the foot of the hill, and were at this
moment concealed by the tall grass that surrounded them. Stronghand
stopped his horse, and imitated the cry of the mawkawis twice. Almost
immediately the grass parted, an Indian bounded from a thick clump of
trees with the lightness of an antelope, and stopped two yards from the
hunter, on whom he fixed his black, intelligent eyes, without saying
a word. The apparition of the Redskin was so sudden, his arrival so
unexpected, that, in spite of himself, the majordomo could not restrain
a start of surprise.
This Indian was a man of three-and-twenty years of age at the most,
whose exquisite proportions made him resemble a statue of Florentine
bronze; the whole upper part of his body was naked: his unloosened hair
hung in disorder over his shoulders; his clothing merely consisted of
trousers sewn with horsehair, fastened round the loins by a belt of
untanned leather, and tied at the ankles. A tomahawk and a scalping
knife--weapons which the Indians never lay aside--hung from his
belt, and he leant with careless grace upon a long rifle of American
manufacture. The hunter bowed, and after stretching out his arm,
with the palm turned down and the fingers straight, said in a gentle
voice--"Wah! The Waconda protects me, since the first person I see, on
returning to my people, is Sparrowhawk."
The young Indian bowed in his turn with the native courtesy
characteristic of the Redskin, and replied in a guttural voice, which,
however, was very gentle--"For a long time the sachems have been
informed of the coming of the Great Bear of their Nation; they thought
that only one chief was worthy saluting Stronghand on his return.
Sparrowhawk is happy that he was chosen by them."
"I thank the sachems of my nation," the hunter said, with a meaning
glance at the majordomo, "for having designed to do me so signal an
honour. Will my son return to the village with us, or will he precede
us?"
"Sparrowhawk will go ahead, in order that the guest of Stronghand, my
father, may be received with the honours due to a man who comes in the
company of the Great Bear."
"Good! My brother will act as becomes a chief. Stronghand will not
detain him longer."
The young Indian bowed his head in assent, leapt backwards, and
disappeared in the thicket whence he had emerged, with such rapidity,
that if the grass had not continued to undulate after his departure,
his apparition would have seemed like a dream.
"We can now start again," the hunter said to the majordomo, who was
utterly confounded.
"Let us go!" the latter answered, mechanically.
"Well," answered Stronghand, "do you now believe that you have anything
to fear among the Papazos?"
"Excuse me; as you said, I was a madman to fear it."
They crossed the plain, following a wild beast track which, after
numberless windings, reached a ford, and in about an hour they arrived
at the bank of the river. Twelve Papazo Indians, dressed in their war
paint and mounted on magnificent horses, were standing motionless and
in single file in front of the ford.
So soon as they perceived the two travellers, they uttered loud shouts
and dashed forward to meet them, firing their guns, brandishing
their weapons, and waving their white female buffalo robes, which,
by-the-bye, only the most renowned sachems of the nation have the
right to wear. The two white men, on their side, spurred their horses,
responding to the shouts of the Indians, and firing their guns.
All at once, at a signal from one of the chiefs, all the horsemen
stopped, and arranged themselves round the travellers, to act as an
escort. The whole party crossed the ford and entered the village,
amid the deafening shouts of the women and children, with which were
inharmoniously blended the bark of dogs, the hoarse notes of the
shells, and the shrill sounds of the _chichikoues_.