There is no mystery about Shebotha's disappearance nor aught out of the
way save in the adroitness with which the aged crone contrived to effect
her escape. Soon as touching the ground, and feeling herself free from
the arms hitherto holding her on horseback, she has darted into the
underwood, and off; not even rising erect to her feet, but on all fours,
and silently as a snake. For although the hillside is so thickly
overgrown with thorny scrub that a pointer would with difficulty quarter
it, the supple old savage worms her way through, without making any more
noise than would a badger just got out of the barrel, and away from the
dogs that have been baiting it.
In her retreat, she does not proceed for any great distance in a direct
line, nor long continue crawling through the tangle of bushes. She is
acquainted with every inch of that wooded slope, and all the paths
traversing it, even to the tiniest trace of bird or quadruped; and soon
coming into one of these, she at length stands upright. But not to stay
there for any time, only long enough to give a glance to the right and
left, in order that she may assure herself as to which of the two she
had best take. Deciding in an instant, she is off again in crouched
attitude, but with the agility of youth itself. Up the hill she goes,
back towards the Cemetery. And one who saw her ascending before seeing
her now, would with difficulty believe it to be the same person. Then,
however, she was taking it leisurely, with no particular call for haste
nor the taxing of her strength; now there is a motive for her making
speed, with every exertion in her power. Indeed, more than one; for she
is urged by two of the strongest passions that can agitate the human
breast--cupidity and vengeance. While depriving her of her ghastly
necklace, Gaspar had taken the occasion to possess himself of the more
elegant and valuable ornaments stripped from the person of Nacena; not
with any thought to appropriate them to himself, but the intention of
restoring them to their rightful owner, when the latter should re-appear
to claim them. Coming back, and bringing with her the captive, the
Indian girl would well deserve restitution of her trinkets.
Thwarted in her infernal schemes, stung to fury by their failure,
Shebotha goes panting up the hill; but, despite her hard breathing,
without stopping to take breath. Nor rests she on reaching the summit,
but glides on across the Cemetery, finding her way through the wooden
structures as one who knows every scaffold there, and whose bones are
mouldering upon it.
It is not from fear of being followed that she is now so hastening her
steps. She knows that they from whom she has escaped will not return
thither. For although hindered from hearing their conversation with
Nacena, and so becoming acquainted with their plans, if not fully
comprehending, she at least surmises them. For, having recognised the
gaucho and his companions--all three of them--what purpose could they
have there other than to release the paleface girl she has in her
charge? And from the fact of their having themselves released Nacena--
let her go without further detention than would be required to come to
an understanding--she concludes that this has been come to, and the
Indian girl consented to aid them in their intended rescue. But it will
not be successful if she, Shebotha, can prevent it; and desperately bent
on doing so, she rushes on through the scaffolds, and down the road to
the _tolderia_, as if some danger threatened her from behind.
Arriving by the door of her own hut, she utters an exclamation of
surprise at not there seeing her slave. Still another, after having
called out his name, and received no answer. Her astonishment is
complete and her rage at full height, when, having stepped up to the
threshold of the _toldo_, she sees there is no one inside. The beeswax
dip, burnt low and flickering in the socket, faintly lights up the
hideous objects of her craft and calling; but shows no form of human
being!
It is only a mechanical act her entering within the hut, and proceeding
on to its inner apartment; for she is quite as sure it, too, will be
found empty--as she finds it.
Almost instantly returning to the door, she stands gazing out into the
darkness. Were there a light in front, her eyes would be seen to glare
in their sunken sockets with the brightness of fire-balls; while in her
breast is burning the fury of a concentrated vengeance. Once again she
calls out the name of her slave, but as before getting no answer; and
now sure that he, too, has either betrayed her, or been himself
betrayed, she glides silently out of the _toldo_, and off towards that
in which sleeps Aguara.
Soon she reaches its door, which she finds wide open; for it is within
the tropics, and the night is a warm one. Craning her head inside, and
listening for a second or two, she can tell by his breathing that the
_cacique_ is asleep. A slumber abruptly broken by her calling out--
"Son of Naraguana, awake!"
"Shebotha!" he exclaims, recognising her shrill treble. "What is it?"
he adds, raising his head over the edge of his _hamaca_.
"Arise, Aguara! and make all haste. Know that there are enemies near,
and treason in your tribe. You've been betrayed, and so has Shebotha!"
"Betrayed! How?" he asks in wonderment, but without leaving the
hammock. "Who are these enemies you speak of? Who the traitors?"
"You'll learn that in time, chief. It may be enough for you now to
know, that your paleface captive has escaped."
"Escaped!" he cries out, bounding down upon the floor, and coming
forward to the entrance. "The paleface escaped, you say? Are you
speaking truth, Mam Shebotha?"
"Come to my _toldo_, and see for yourself."
"No, that's not needed, if you say she's gone. Tell me how, when, and
whither. Be quick!"
In hurried phrase she recounts the incidents which have occurred to her
and Nacena on the Cemetery Hill, adding her conjectures as to what may
have transpired since, and may still be in the act of occurrence. Among
these last are her suspicions, well founded as we know, that Kaolin's
sister has aided the paleface to escape; and that her own slave, who
should have hindered, has not only connived at it, but taken himself
away as well. In short, the cage is empty, and the bird with its keeper
both flown!
What direction the fugitives have taken, is a question to which the
sorceress can give answer without the need of any doubtful surmise or
conjecture. She knows it as well as if she herself had appointed the
place of rendezvous, given by Gaspar to the Indian girl. For while
riding double with the gaucho, she had heard him speak of it to his
companions; heard, despite the poncho spread over her ears, the word
_ceiba_, with others, which told of their intention to stay by that
tree.
The _cacique_ knows the noted spot, as well as Nacena herself, he too
having oft played beneath its shade, or climbed up its grand trunk and
disported himself among its branches, when more of a boy than he is now.
But he reflects not on these past times, so full of innocence and
happiness. Instead, wild with rage, and wretched as he is angry, he
stays not to reflect at all; but hastily, and little better than
half-dressed, he rushes forth from his _toldo_, calling loudly for his
horse.
Meanwhile, the sorceress has aroused others of the tribe; several of
whom, in obedience to their chief's command, start off for the _corrals_
to procure the horses necessary for a pursuit of the fugitives.
Aguara's is on the ground first; and, without waiting for companion or
attendant of any kind, he vaults upon the animal's back, and goes off at
a gallop along the path, which, after turning around close to the hill,
at about a mile's distance, farther on passes the _ceiba_ tree.