Just as the young cacique has yielded to the tempter, surrendering his
last scruple of conscience, his horse dips hoof in the stream, that of
the Paraguayan plunging into it at the same time. Knowing the ford
well, and that it is shallow, with a firm bottom, they ride boldly on;
their followers straggled out behind, these innocent of the foul
conspiracy being hatched so near; still keeping up their rollicky mirth,
and flinging about _jeux d'esprit_ as the spray drops are tossed from
the fetlocks of their wading horses.
It is a popular though erroneous belief, that the red men of America are
of austere and taciturn habit. The older ones may be at times, but even
these not always. Instead, as a rule they are given to jocularity and
fun; the youth brimful of it as the street boys of any European city.
At least one half of their diurnal hours is spent by them in play and
pastimes; for from those of the north we have borrowed both Polo and La
Crosse; while horse-racing is as much their sport as ours; and archery
more.
Not strange, then, that the _jeunesse doree_ of the Tovas, escorting
their youthful cacique, and seeing him occupied with the paleface who
has been on a visit to their town, take no heed of what passes between
these two, but abandon themselves to merriment along the march. No more
is it strange that Aguara, engrossed with the subject of conversation
between him and the _vaqueano_, leaves them free to their frollicking.
Nothing occurs to change the behaviour either of the two who are in
front, or those following, until the horses of the former have forded
the stream, and stepped out on the bank beyond. Then the Paraguayan, as
said, a skilled tracker and cunning as a fox, chancing to lower his eyes
to the ground, observes upon it several hoof-marks of a horse. These at
once fix his attention; for not only are they fresh--to all appearance
made but the moment before--but the horse that made them must have been
_shod_.
While in the act of verifying this observation, other hoof-prints come
under his eye, also shod, but much smaller, being the tracks of a pony.
Recent too, evidently made at the same time as the horse's. He has no
need to point them out to the young Indian, who, trained to such craft
from infancy upward, has noted them soon as he, and with equally quick
intuitiveness is endeavouring to interpret their significance.
Succeeding in this: for both the horse's track and that of the pony are
known to, and almost instantly recognised by him. He has not lived two
years in proximity to the estancia of Ludwig Halberger, all the while in
friendly intercourse with the naturalist and his family, without taking
note of everything; and can tell the particular track of every horse in
its stables. Above all is he familiar with the diminutive hoof-marks of
Francesca's pretty pony, which he has more than once trailed across the
_campo_, in the hope of having a word with its rider. Perceiving them
now, and so recently made, he gives out an ejaculation of pleased
surprise; then looks around, as though expecting to see the pony itself,
with its young mistress upon its back. There is no one in sight,
however, save the _vaqueano_ and his own followers; the latter behind,
halted by command, some of them still in the water, so that they may not
ride over the shod-tracks, and obliterate them.
All this while Halberger and his child are within twenty paces of the
spot, and seated in their saddles, as when they first drew up side by
side. Screened by the trees, they see the Indians, themselves
unobserved, while they can distinctly hear every word said. Only two of
the party speak aloud, the young cacique and his paleface companion;
their speech, of course, relating to the newly-discovered "sign."
After dismounting, and for a few seconds examining it, Valdez leaps back
into his saddle with a show of haste, as if he would at once start off
upon the trail of horse and pony.
"There have been only the two here--that's plain," he says. "Father and
daughter, you think? What a pity we didn't get up in time to bid
`good-day' to them! 'Twould have simplified matters much. You'd then
have had your young chick to carry to the cage you intend for it,
without the mother bird to make any bother or fluttering in your face;
while I might have executed my commission sooner than expected."
"_Carramba_!" he continues after a short while spent in considering.
"They can't have gone very far as yet. You say it's quite twenty miles
to the place where the _gringo_ has his headquarters. If so, and
they've not been in a great hurry to get home--which like enough the
girl would, since her dear Cypriano don't appear to be along--we may
come up with them by putting on speed. Let us after them at once! What
say you?"
The young Indian, passive in the hands of the older and more hardened
sinner, makes neither objection nor protest. Instead, stung by the
allusion to "dear Cypriano," he is anxious as the other to come up with
the pony and its rider. So, without another word, he springs back upon
his horse, declaring his readiness to ride on.
With eyes directed downward, they keep along the return tracks; having
already observed that these come no farther than the ford, and turn back
by the water's edge--
"Aha!" exclaims the _vaqueano_, pulling up again ere he has proceeded
three lengths of his horse; "they've left the trail here, and turned off
up stream! That wouldn't be their route home, would it?"
"No," answers Aguara. "Their nearest way's along the river, down as far
as our old _tolderia_. After that--"
"Sh!" interrupts the Paraguayan, leaning over, and speaking in a
cautious whisper, "Did you not hear something? Like the chinking of a
bitt curb? I shouldn't wonder if they're in among those bushes.
Suppose you stay here and keep watch along the bank, while I go and beat
up that bit of cover?"
"Just as it please you," assents the young cacique, unresistingly.
"Give me two or three of your fellows along. Not that I have any fear
to encounter the _gringo_ alone--poor weak creature, still wearing his
green spectacles, I suppose. Far from it. But still there's no harm in
having help, should he attempt to give trouble. Besides, I'll want some
one to look after the _muchachita_!"
"Take as many as you wish."
"Oh! two will be sufficient; that pair nearest us."
He points to the foremost file of the troop, two who are a little older
than their friends, as also of more hardened and sinister aspect. For,
short as has been his stay among them, the subtle emissary has taken the
measure of many members of the tribe; and knows something of the two he
thus designates. His gold has made them his friends and allies; in
short, gained them over to him as good for anything he may call upon
them to do.
Aguara having signified assent, a gesture brings them up; and, at a
whispered word from the _vaqueano_ himself, they fall in behind him.
Heading his horse for the _sumac_ thicket he is soon at its edge, there
seeing what rejoices him--the tracks of both horse and pony passing into
it. He has reached the spot where Halberger turned in along the _tapir_
path. Parting the leaves with a long spear--for he is so armed--he
rides in also, the two Indians after. And just as the tails of their
horses disappear among the leaves, Aguara, who has kept his place, hears
another horse neighing within the thicket at a point farther off. Then
there is a quick trampling of hooves, followed by a hurried rush, and
the swishing of bent branches, as the _vaqueano_ and his two aides dash
on through the _sumacs_.
The young cacique and his followers continuing to listen, soon after
hear shouts--the voices of men in angry exclamation--mingling with them
the shriller treble of a girl's. Then a shot, quick followed by a
second, and a third; after which only the girl's voice is heard, but now
in lamentation. Soon, however, it is hushed, and all over--everything
silent as before.
The young Tovas chief sits upon his horse with heart audibly beating.
He has no doubt--cannot have--as to who were the pursued ones; no more,
that they have been overtaken. But with what result? Has the
_vaqueano_ killed both father and daughter? Or were the shots fired by
Halberger, killing Valdez himself and the two who went with him? No;
that cannot be; else why should the girl's lamenting cries be heard
afterwards? But then again, why have they ceased so suddenly?
While thus anxiously conjecturing, he again hears the trampling of
horses among the trees; this time evidently in return towards him. And
soon after sees the horses themselves, with their riders--four of them.
Three are the same as late left him, but looking differently. The
Paraguayan has one arm hanging down by his side, to all appearance
broken, with blood dripping from the tips of his fingers; while the
steel blade of his spear, borne in the other, is alike reddened. And
there is blood elsewhere--streaming down the breast of one of the young
Indians who seems to have difficulty in keeping upon his horse's back.
The fourth individual in the returning cavalcade is a young girl, with a
cloth tied over her head, as if to hinder her from crying out; seated
upon the back of a pony, this led by the Indian who is still unhurt.
At a glance, Aguara sees it is Francesca Halberger, though he needs not
seeing her to know that. For he had already recognised her voice--well
knew it, even in its wailing.
"Her father--what of him?" he asks, addressing Valdez, soon as the
latter is up to him, and speaking in undertone.
"No matter what," rejoins the ruffian, with a demoniac leer. "The
father is my affair, and he has come very near making it an ugly one for
me. Look at this!" he continues, indicating the left arm which hangs
loose by his side. "And at that!" he adds, glancing up to the point of
his spear.
"Blood on both, as you see. So, Senor Aguara, you may draw your
deductions. Your affair is yonder," he nods towards the muffled figure
on the pony's back; "and you can now choose between taking her home to
her mother--her handsome cousin as well--or carrying her to _your_ home,
as the queen that is to be of the Tovas."
The young cacique is not slow in deciding which course to pursue. The
allusion to the "handsome cousin" again excites his jealousy and his
ire. Its influence is irresistible, as sinister; and when he and his
followers take departure from that spot--which they do almost on the
instant--it is to recross the stream, and head their horses homeward--
Francesca Halberger carried captive along with them.