A WALK IN THE DARK.
The sun was setting as the Gambusinos reached the skirt of the forest
and the limit of the covert. Before them, at a distance of about four
miles, rose the city, amid the verdure of the plain, which formed a
girdle of flowers and grass. The night fell rapidly, the darkness
grew momentarily heavier, mingling all the varieties of the scenery
in a sombre mass; the hour, in short, was most propitious for trying
the bold experiment on which they were resolved. They whispered a
last farewell to their comrades, and boldly entered the tall grass,
in the centre of which they speedily disappeared. Fortunately for the
adventurers, who would have found it impossible to find their way in
the darkness, the tracks of horsemen and foot passengers proceeding to
the city, or coming from it, had traced long paths, all leading direct
to one of the gates. The two men walked along, side by side, for a long
time in silence; each was thinking deeply on the probable results of
this desperate tentative. In the first moment of enthusiasm, they had
dreamed but slightly of the countless difficulties they must meet on
their path, and the obstacles which would doubtlessly at every moment
rise before them; they had only regarded the object they wished to
attain. But now that they were cool, many things to which they had not
paid attention, or which they would not allow to check them, presented
themselves to their thoughts, and, as so frequently happens, made them
regard their expedition under a very different light. Their object now
appeared to them almost impossible to gain, and obstacles grew up, as
it were, under their feet. Unfortunately, these judicious reflections
arrived too late; there was no chance of withdrawal, and they must
advance at all risks. All was calm and tranquil, however; there was
not a breath in the air, not a sound on the prairie, and, as the stars
gradually appeared in the sky, a pale and trembling gleam slightly
modified the darkness, and rendered it less intense, and they began
to see sufficiently well to be able to proceed without hesitation, and
reconnoitre the plain for some distance. Brighteye was not particularly
satisfied with his comrade's obstinate silence; the worthy hunter was
rather fond of talking, especially under circumstances like those he
found himself in at present; hence he resolved to make his companion
talk, in the first place, to hear a human voice--a reason which,
fortunately for themselves, the sedentary, who are exempt from those
great heart storms which yet endow existence with such charms, will not
understand; but the hunter's second reason was still more peremptory
than the first; now that he had embarked on this desperate enterprise,
he wished to obtain certain information from Don Miguel, as to the mode
in which he intended acting, and the plan he meant to adopt. So near
the city, and in an entirely uncovered plain, there was very slight
risk of the adventurers meeting with Indians; the only men they were
exposed to meet were scouts, sent out to reconnoitre, in the extremely
improbable event, that the Indians, contrary to their usual habit of
not making any movement during the night, had considered it necessary
to send out a few men to survey the environs. The two men could
therefore talk together without danger, save from some extraordinary
accident, though, of course, careful not to speak above their breath
and to keep eyes and ears constantly on the watch, so as to notice
a danger so soon as it arose. Brighteye, after coughing gently to
attract his comrade's attention, said, looking around him somewhat
impatiently,--"Eh, eh! the sky has grown enormously bright in the last
few minutes, and the night is not so black; I hope the moon will not
rise ere we reach our destination."
"We have two hours before us ere the moon rises," Don Miguel answered;
"that is more than we want."
"You believe two hours will be sufficient?"
"I am sure of it."
"All the better then, for I am not particularly fond of night walks."
"It is not usual to take them."
"Indeed, during the forty years I have traversed the desert in every
direction, this is only the second occasion of my indulging in a night
walk."
"Nonsense!"
"It is a fact; the first time deserves mentioning."
"How so?" Don Miguel asked absently.
"The circumstances were almost similar; I wanted to save a young girl,
who had been carried off by the Indians. It was in 1835. I was then
in the service of the Fur Company. The Blackfoot Indians, to avenge a
trick played on them by a scamp of an _employé_, hit on nothing better
than surprising Mackenzie fort; then--"
"Listen!" Don Miguel said, seizing his arm. "Do you hear nothing?"
The Canadian, so suddenly interrupted in his story, which he believed
this time he should really finish, did not, however, display any ill
temper, for he was accustomed to such mishaps; he stopped, lay down
on the ground, and listened attentively for two or three minutes,
with the most sustained attention, and then rose, shaking his head
contemptuously. "They are coyotes sharing a deer," he said.
"You are certain of it?"
"You will soon hear them give tongue." In fact, the hunter had scarce
finished speaking ere the repeated barking of the coyotes could be
heard a short distance off.
"You hear," the Canadian said simply.
"It is true," Don Miguel answered.
They resumed their march.
"Is this the way?" Brighteye said. "You remember what we agreed on,
Don Miguel? I trust entirely to you to get into the city, and I do not
exactly see what we shall do."
"I do not know much more myself," the young man responded. "I spent
several hours today in carefully examining the walls, and fancied I
noticed a spot where it would be rather easy for us to pass."
"Hum!" Brighteye remarked. "Your plan does not seem to me very good; it
will probably result in broken bones."
"That is a chance to run."
"Of course; but, without offence, I should prefer something else, if it
be possible."
"That prospect does not frighten you, I hope?"
"Not the least in the world. It is plain that the Indians cannot kill
me; if they could, they would have done so long ago, seeing the time I
have been in the desert."
The young man could not refrain from laughing at the coolness with
which his comrade emitted this singular opinion. "Well, then," he said,
"what reason have you to find fault with my plan?"
"Because it is bad. If the Indians cannot kill me, that does not prove
they will not wound me. Believe me. Don Miguel, let us be prudent: if
one of us is disabled at the start, what will become of the other?"
"That is true; but have you any other plan to propose to me?"
"I think so."
"Well, let me know it. If it be good, I will adopt it; I am not at all
sweet on myself."
"Good; can you swim?"
"Why ask?"
"Answer first, and then I'll tell you."
"I swim like a sturgeon."
"And I like an otter; we are well paired. Now, pay attention to what I
am going to say."
"Move ahead."
"You see that river a little to my right, I suppose?"
"Of course."
"Very good. That river intersects the city, I rather think."
"Yes."
"Supposing that the Redskins are acquainted with our arrival in these
parts, on which side will they apprehend an attack?"
"From the plain, evidently. That is common sense."
"All the better. So the walls will be furnished with sentries, watching
the plain, while the river, whence they fear no danger, will be
perfectly deserted."
"That is true," Don Miguel said, striking his forehead; "I did not
think of that."
"People cannot think of everything," Brighteye observed philosophically.
"My worthy friend, I thank you for that idea. Now we are certain of
entering the city."
"You had better not holloa till you are out--But you know the proverb.
Still, nothing will prevent us trying."
They at once diverged to the left, in the direction of the river,
which they reached after a quarter of an hour's march. The banks were
deserted. The river, calm as a mirror, looked like a wide silver
ribbon. "Now," Brighteye continued, "we need not hurry; although we
can swim, we will reserve that expedient till others fail us. Examine
all the shrubs on one side, while I do so on the other. I am greatly
mistaken, or we shall find a canoe somewhere." The hunter's previsions
did not deceive him. After a few minutes' search, they found a canoe
hidden beneath a quantity of leaves in the midst of a thicket of
lentises and floripondios; the paddles were concealed a short distance
away.
We have already described to the reader the mode adopted by the Indians
in building their boats, which, among other advantages, possesses that
of lightness. Brighteye took the paddles. Don Miguel put the canoe on
his back, and in a few minutes it was afloat. "Now let us get in,"
Brighteye said.
"A moment," Don Miguel observed; "let us muffle the paddles, to prevent
noise."
Brighteye shrugged his shoulders. "Do not let us be too clever," he
said, "for that would injure us. If there are Indians about, they
will see the canoe; if they do not at the same time hear the sound of
paddles, they will suspect a trap, and try to detect the trick. No, no,
let me alone; lay yourself in the bottom of the canoe: fortunately for
us it is small, and the Redskins will never suppose that so small a
boat, pulled by one man, would have the pretension of surprising them.
That which relatively makes the security of our expedition, you must
not forget, is its rashness, even madness. Only Palefaces can hit on
such crack-brained schemes. I remember, in 1835, as I was telling you--"
"Let us be off," Don Miguel interrupted, as he jumped into the canoe,
in the middle of which he laid himself down, in accordance with his
comrade's instructions. The latter followed him with a toss of the
head, and took up the paddles, which he only employed, however, with
an affected carelessness, which gave the boat a slow and measured
movement.
"Look you," the hunter continued, "with the way we are moving, if there
are any of those red devils on the watch, they will certainly take
me for one of their comrades out fishing late, and returning to his
_calli_."
Still, by degrees, and almost imperceptibly, the hunter increased his
speed, so that within half an hour they attained a certain degree of
speed, not great enough, however, to arouse suspicions. They then went
on for about an hour, and at length entered the city. But if they had
expected to land unnoticed, they were mistaken. Near the bridge, the
place where a number of pulled-up canoes showed that the Indians were
in the habit of stopping, Brighteye perceived a sentry leaning on his
long lance and watching them. The Canadian took a glance around, and
assured himself that the sentry was alone. "Good!" he muttered to
himself; "if there's only one, it will not be a long matter."
Then he explained to Don Miguel what the matter was, to which the
latter answered a few words.
"Listen," the hunter said, drawing himself up, "that is the only way."
And he steered the canoe straight toward the sentry. So soon as the
Canadian was within hail--"Wah!" the Indian said, "my brother returns
very late to Quiepaa Tani; everybody is asleep."
"That is true," Brighteye answered, in the language employed by the
sentry; "but I have brought in some splendid fish."
"Eh?" the warrior remarked, seriously; "can I see them?"
"Not only can my brother see them," the Canadian answered, graciously,
"but I authorize him to select any one he pleases."
"Och! my brother has an open hand. The Wacondah will never allow it to
be empty. I accept my brother's offering."
"Hum!" Brighteye muttered, "it is astonishing how the poor devil takes
the bait. He does not at all suspect that he is the fish."
And with this philosophical reflection he continued his progress.
Soon after, the canoe grated on the sand. The Indian, affected by the
Canadian's deceptive offer, would not be beaten by him in politeness,
so he seized the side of the boat and began pulling it up. "Wah!" he
said, "my brother has had a fine fishing, for the canoe is very heavy."
While saying this, he bent down to get a better hold, and began trying
anew. But he had no time; Don Miguel bounded from the boat, and,
clubbing his rifle, dealt a terrible blow of the butt on the wretched
Indian's skull. The poor sentry was killed at once, and rolled on the
sand without uttering a cry.
"There!" Brighteye cried, as he got out in his turn, "that man, at any
rate, will not denounce us."
"We must get rid of him now," Don Miguel observed.
"That will not take long."
The implacable hunter then selected a heavy stone, placed it in the
Redskin's frasada, and let him glide softly into the water. So soon as
this was effected, and every trace of the murder was removed, they drew
the canoe on land by the side of the others, and prepared to start. At
this moment the real difficulties of the enterprise began for them.
How should they find their way in a strange city in the dark? When and
how to find Marksman? These two questions seemed equally impossible of
solution.
"Wah!" Brighteye at length said, "it must be no more difficult to
follow a trail in a city than on a plain. Let us try."
"The first thing is to get away from here as soon as possible."
"Yes, the place is not healthy for us; but suppose we try to find the
great square. There people generally expect to get useful information."
"At this hour? That seems to me rather difficult."
"On the contrary. We will hide till daybreak. The first Redskin who
passes within reach we will oblige to give us news of our friend. A
great physician, like him, must be well known, hang it all," he added,
with a laugh, a gaiety which Don Miguel shared with all his heart.
Singular was the carelessness and recklessness of these two men; in the
centre of a city they had entered by killing one of its inhabitants,
where they knew they would meet only enemies, and where dangers were,
on all sides, hanging over their heads, they still found themselves as
much at their ease as if they had been among friends, and laughed and
jested together, just as if their position was the most agreeable in
the world.
"Well," Brighteye continued, "we are in a very tidy labyrinth. Do you
not think with me that there is a frightful smell of broken bones about
here?"
"Who knows? Perhaps we shall get out of it better than we fancy."
"One thing is certain, we shall soon know all about it."
"Let us take that street in front of us. It is wide and well laid.
Something tells me it will lead us right."
"Heaven's mercy! that is as good as another."
The hunters entered the street ahead of them. Accident had served them
well. After ten minutes' walk, they found themselves at the entrance of
the great square. "There," Brighteye said, in a tone of delight, "luck
is with us. We cannot complain; besides, it must be so. Accident always
favours madmen, and in that character we can claim its entire sympathy."
"Silence!" Don Miguel said, sharply, "there is someone."
"Where?"
The young man extended his arm in the direction of the Temple of the
Sun. "Look!" he cried.
"So there is," Brighteye muttered, a moment later, "but that appears to
be doing like us. He is evidently on the watch. What reason can he have
for being up so late?"
After arranging, in a few words, the two adventurers separated,
and crept, from different sides, toward the night watcher, hiding
themselves, as well as they could, in the shadow, which was not an
easy task. The moon had risen some time previously, and spread a weak
light, it is true, but sufficient to let objects be distinguished for a
considerable distance. The man on whom the adventurers were advancing
still remained motionless at the spot where they had seen him; his body
bent forward, his ear leant against the door of the temple, he seemed
to be listening carefully. Don Miguel and Brighteye were not more than
six paces off, and were preparing to rush on him, when he suddenly
threw himself up. They with difficulty suppressed a cry of surprise.
"Flying Eagle!" they muttered. But although they spoke so low, the
other heard them, and immediately sounded the darkness with a piercing
glance.
"Wah!" he said, on perceiving the two men, and resolutely advanced.
The adventurers left the shadow that protected them, and waited. When
Flying Eagle had arrived almost close to them--"It is I," Don Miguel
said to him.
"And I," Brighteye added.
The Comanche, Chief fell back in a state of stupefaction impossible to
describe. "The grey-head here!" he exclaimed.