UNICORN.
Before retiring to rest Father Seraphin, on the previous evening, had
whispered a couple of words in the Indians' ears. The sun had scarce
begun to rise a little above the extreme blue line of the horizon ere
the missionary opened his eyes, and after a short prayer hurried to the
hall in which his companions had remained. The four men were still
asleep, wrapped in their furs and buffalo skins.
"Wake up, brothers," Father Seraphin said, "for day is appearing."
The four men started up in an instant.
"My brothers," the young missionary said in a gentle and penetrating
voice, "I thought that we ought, before separating, to thank God in
common: for the blessings He does not cease to vouchsafe to us--to
celebrate our happy meeting of last night. I have, therefore, resolved
to hold a mass, at which I shall be happy to see you with that purity of
heart which such a duty demands."
At this proposition the four men exclaimed gladly their assent.
"I will help you to prepare the altar, father," Valentine said; "the
idea is excellent."
"The altar is all ready, my friends. Have the kindness to follow me."
Father Seraphin then led them out of the grotto.
In the centre of a small esplanade in front of the cave an altar had
been built by Eagle-wing and Curumilla on a grassy mound. It was very
simple. A copper crucifix planted in the centre of the mound, covered by
a cloth of dazzling whiteness; on either side of it two block-tin
candlesticks, in which burned candles of yellow tallow, a Bible on the
right, the pyx in the centre--that was all.
The hunter and the two Mexicans knelt piously, and Father Seraphin
commenced offering the holy sacrifice, served devotedly by the two
Indian chiefs.
It was a magnificent morning; thousands of birds, hidden beneath the
foliage, saluted the birth of day with their harmonious songs; a fickle
breeze poured through the branches, and refreshed the air; in the
distance, far as eye could extend, undulated the prairie, with its
oceans of tall grass incessantly agitated by the hurried foot falls of
the wild beasts returning to their dens; and on the naked side of this
hill, at the entrance of this grotto--one of the marvels of the New
World--a priest, simple as an apostle, was celebrating mass on a grass
altar under the eye of Heaven, served by two poor savages, and having as
sole congregation three half-civilised men.
This spectacle, so simple primitive, had something about it imposing and
sublime, which inspired respect and summoned up dreams of ancient days,
when the persecuted church took refuse in the desert, to find itself
face to face with God. Hence the emotion experienced by the witnesses of
this religious act was sincere. A beam of happiness descended into their
souls, and it was with real effusion that they thanked the priest for
the pleasant surprise he had reserved for them. Father Seraphin was
delighted at the result he had attained. Seeing the truly profound faith
of his friends, he felt his courage heightened to continue the rude and
noble task he had imposed on himself.
The mass lasted about three quarters of an hour. When it was finished
the missionary placed the poor holy vessels in the bag he constantly
carried with him, and they returned to the grotto for breakfast. An hour
later, Don Miguel, General Ibañez, and the missionary took leave of
Valentine, and mounted on their horses, which Curumilla had led to the
entrance of the ravine. They started at a gallop in the direction of the
Paso del Norte, whence they were about twenty leagues distant. Valentine
and the two Indian chiefs remained behind.
"I am about to leave my brother," Eagle-wing said.
"Why not remain with us, chief?"
"My pale brother no longer requires Eagle-wing. The chief hears the
cries of the men and women of his tribe who were cowardly assassinated,
and demand vengeance."
"Where goes my brother?" the hunter asked, who was too thoroughly
acquainted with the character of the Indians to try and change the
warrior's determination, though he was vexed at his departure.
"The Coras dwell in villages on the banks of the Colorado. Eagle-wing is
returning to his friends. He will ask for warriors to avenge his
brothers who are dead."
Valentine bowed.
"May the Great Spirit protect my father!" he said. "The road is long to
the villages of his tribe. The chief is leaving friends who love him."
"Eagle-wing knows it: he will remember," the chief said with a deep
intonation.
And, after pressing the hands the two hunters held out to him, he
bounded on his horse, and soon disappeared in the windings of the
cañon.
Valentine watched his departure with a sad and melancholy look.
"Shall I ever see him again!" he murmured. "He is an Indian: he is
following his vengeance. It is his nature: he obeys it, and God will
judge him. Every man must obey his destiny."
After this aside the hunter threw his rifle on his shoulder and started
in his turn, followed by Curumilla. Valentine and his comrade were on
foot: they preferred that mode of travelling, which seemed to them sure,
and quite as quick as on horseback. The two men, after the Indian
custom, walked one behind the other, not uttering a syllable; but toward
midday the heat became so insupportable that they were obliged to stop
to take a few moments' repose. At length the sunbeams lost their
strength, the evening breeze rose, and the hunters could resume their
journey. They soon reached the banks of the Rio Puerco (Dirty River),
which they began ascending, keeping as close as they could to the banks,
while following the tracks made since time immemorial by wild animals
coming down to drink.
The man unacquainted with the splendid American scenery will have a
difficulty in imagining the imposing and savage majesty of the prairie
the hunters were traversing. The river, studded with islets covered with
cottonwood trees, flowed silent and rapid between banks of slight
elevation, and overgrown with grass so tall that it obeyed the impulse
of the wind from a long distance. Over the vast plain were scattered
innumerable hills, whose summits, nearly all of the same height, present
a flat surface; and for a greater distance northward the ground was
broadcast with large lumps of pebbles resembling gravestones.
At a few hundred yards from the river rose a conical mound, bearing on
its summit a granite obelisk one hundred and twenty feet in height. The
Indians, who, like all primitive nations, are caught by anything
strange, frequently assembled at this spot; and here the hecatombs are
offered to the Kitchi Manitou.
A great number of buffalo skulls, piled up at the foot of the column,
and arranged in circles, ellipses, and other geometrical figures, attest
their piety for this god of the hunt, whose protecting spirit, they say,
looks down from the top of the monolith. Here and there grew patches of
the Indian potato, wild onion, prairie tomato, and those millions of
strange flowers and trees composing the American flora. The rest of the
country was covered with tall grass, continually undulating beneath the
light footfall of the graceful antelopes or big horns, which bounded
from one rock to the other, startled by the approach of the travellers.
Far, far away on the horizon, mingling with the azure of the sky,
appeared the denuded peaks of the lofty mountains that serve as
unassailable fortresses to the Indians: their summits, covered with
eternal snow, formed the frame of this immense and imposing picture,
which was stamped with a gloomy and mysterious grandeur.
At the hour when the _maukawis_ uttered its last song to salute the
setting of the sun, which, half plunged in the purple of evening, still
jaspered the sky with long red bands, the travellers perceived the tents
of the Comanches picturesquely grouped on the sides of a verdurous hill.
The Indians had, in a few hours, improvised a real village with their
buffalo skin tents, aligned to form streets and squares.
On arriving at about five hundred yards from the village the hunters
suddenly perceived an Indian horseman. Evincing not the slightest
surprise, they stopped and unfolded their buffalo robes, which floated
in the breeze, as a signal of peace. The horseman uttered a loud cry. At
this signal--for it was evidently one--a troop of Comanche warriors
debouched at a gallop from the village, and poured like a torrent down
the sides of the hill, coming up close to the motionless travellers,
brandishing their weapons, and uttering their war yell.
The hunters waited, carelessly leaning on their guns. Assuredly, to a
man not acquainted with the singular manners of the prairie, this mode
of reception would have seemed overt hostilities. But it was not so;
for, on coming within range of the hunters, the Comanches began making
their horses leap and curvet with that grace and skill characteristic of
the Indians, and deploying to the right and left, they formed a vast
circle, inclosing the two unmoved hunters.
Then a horseman quitted the group, dismounted, and rapidly approached
the newcomers: the latter hastened to meet him. All three had their arm
extended with the palm forward in sign of peace. The Indian who thus
advanced to meet the hunters was Unicorn, the great chief of the
Comanches.
As a distinctive sign of his race, his skin was of a red tinge, brighter
than the palest new copper. He was a man of thirty at the most, with
masculine and expressive features; his face possessed a remarkable
intelligence, and was stamped with that natural majesty found among the
savage children of the prairie; he was tall and well built; and his
muscular limbs evidenced a vigour and suppleness against which few men
would have contended with advantage.
He was completely painted and armed for war; his black hair was drawn up
on his head in the form of a casque, and fell down his back like a mane;
a profusion of wampum collars, claws of grizzly bear, and buffalo teeth
adorned his breast, on which was painted with rare dexterity a blue
tortoise, the distinctive sign of the tribe to which he belonged, and of
the size of a hand.
The rest of his costume was composed of the _mitasses_, fastened round
the hips by a leathern belt, and descending to the ankles; a deerskin
shirt, with long hanging sleeves, the seams of which, like those of the
mitasse, were fringed with leather strips and feathers; a wide cloak, of
the hide of a female buffalo, was fastened across his shoulders with a
buckle of pure gold, and fell down to the ground; on his feet he had
elegant moccasins of different colours, embroidered with beads and
porcupine quills, from the heels of which trailed several wolf tails; a
light round shield, covered with buffalo hide, and decorated with human
scalps, hung on his left side by his panther skin quiver full of arrows.
His weapons were those of the Comanche Indians; that is to say, the
scalping knife, the tomahawk, a bow, and an American rifle; but a long
whip, the handle of which painted red, was adorned with scalps,
indicated his rank as chief.
When the three men were close together they saluted by raising their
hands to their foreheads; then Valentine and Unicorn crossed their arms
by passing the right hand over the left shoulder, and bowing their heads
at the same time, kissed each other's mouth after the prairie fashion.
Unicorn then saluted Curumilla in the same way; and this preliminary
ceremony terminated, the Comanche chief took the word.
"My brothers are welcome at the village of my tribe," he said. "I was
expecting them impatiently. I had begged the Chief of Prayer of the
palefaces to invite them in my name."
"He performed his promise last night. I thank my brother for having
thought of me."
"The two stranger great hunters are friends of Unicorn. His heart was
sad not to see them near him for the buffalo hunt his young people are
preparing."
"Here we are! We set out this morning at sunrise."
"My brothers will follow me, and rest at the council fire."
The hunters bowed assent. Each received a horse, and at a signal from
Unicorn, who had placed himself between them, the troop started at a
gallop, and returned to the village, which it entered to the deafening
sound of drums, chikikouis, shouts of joy from the women and children
who saluted their return, and the furious barking of the dogs. When the
chiefs were seated round the council fire the pipe was lit, and
ceremoniously presented to the two strangers, who smoked in silence for
some minutes. When the pipe had gone the round several times Unicorn
addressed Valentine.
"Koutonepi is a great hunter," he said to him; "he has often followed
the buffalo on the plains of the Dirty River. The chief will tell him
the preparations he has made, that the hunter may give his opinion."
"It is needless, chiefs," Valentine replied. "The buffalo is the friend
of the redskins: the Comanches know all its stratagems. I should like to
ask a question of my brother."
"The hunter can speak; my ears are open."
"How long will the chief remain on the hunting grounds with his young
men?"
"About a week. The buffaloes are suspicious: my young men are
surrounding them, but they drive them in our direction before four or
five days."
Valentine gave a start of joy.
"Good," he said. "Is my brother sure of it?"
"Very sure."
"How many warriors have remained with the chief?"
"About four hundred: the rest are scattered over the plain to announce
the approach of the buffaloes."
"Good! If my brother likes I will procure him a fine hunt within three
days."
"Ah!" the chief exclaimed, "then my brother has started some game?"
"Oh!" Valentine answered with a laugh, "Let my brother trust to me, and
I promise him rich spoils."
"Good! Of what game does my brother speak?"
"Of _gachupinos_[1]. In two days they will meet in large numbers not far
from here."
"Wah!" said the Comanche, whose eyes sparkled at this news, "My young
men will hunt them. My brother must explain."
Valentine shook his head.
"My words are for the ears of a chief," he said.
Without replying, Unicorn made a signal: the Indians rose silently, and
left the tent. Curumilla and Unicorn alone remained near the fire.
Valentine then explained to the Comanche, in its fullest details, the
plan he had conceived, in the execution of which the aid of the Indians
was indispensable for him. Unicorn listened attentively without
interrupting. When Valentine had ended,--
"What does my brother think?" the latter asked, fixing a scrutinising
glance on the impassive countenance of the chief.
"Wah!" the other replied, "the paleface is very crafty. Unicorn will do
what he desires."
This assurance filled Valentine's heart with joy.
[1] Wearers of shoes--a name given by the Indians to the Spaniards at
the conquest.