A WAR STRATAGEM.
The two men followed her, and the three began crawling through the tall
grass and silently descending the hill. This painful march was
necessarily slow, owing to the innumerable precautions the fugitives
were obliged to take so as not to be seen or tracked by the scouts the
Indians had scattered all around to watch the movements of the white
men, and of any relief which might come to them.
White Gazelle walked actively in front of the hunters, looking
cautiously around, stopping to listen anxiously to the slightest sound
in the bushes; and when her fears were calmed, she went on giving the
men she guided a smile of encouragement.
"Sold!" Valentine said, with a laugh all at once, as he rested his rifle
on the ground; "Come, come, the little wench is cleverer than I
fancied."
The two men were surrounded by a numerous party of Apache Indians. Don
Pablo did not utter a word; he only looked at the girl, who continued to
smile.
"Bah!" the Frenchman muttered philosophically in an aside; "I shall kill
my seven or eight of them, and after that, we shall see."
Completely reassured by this consoling reflection, the hunter at once
regained all his clearness of mind, and looked curiously around him.
They were in the midst of Black Cat's war party, and that chief now
walked up to the hunter.
"My brother is welcome among the Buffalo Apaches," he said, nobly.
"Why jest, chief?" Valentine remarked; "I am your prisoner, do with me
what you think proper."
"Black Cat does not jest; the great pale hunter is not his prisoner, but
his friend; he has but to command and Black Cat will execute his
orders."
"What mean these words?" the Frenchman said, with astonishment; "Are you
not here, like all the members of your nation, to seize my friends and
myself?"
"Such was my intention, I allow, when I left my village some days back,
but my heart has changed since my brother saved my life, and he may have
perceived it already. If I have come here it is not to fight, but to
save him and his friends; my brother can, therefore, place confidence in
my words--my tribe will obey him as myself."
Valentine reflected for a moment, then he said, as he looked searchingly
at the chief:
"And what does Black Cat ask in return for the help he offers me?"
"Nothing; the pale hunter is my brother; if we succeed he will do as he
pleases."
"Come, come, all is for the best," Valentine said, as he turned to the
girl; "I was mistaken, so I will ask you to forgive me."
White Gazelle blushed with delight at these words.
"Then," Valentine continued, addressing the Indian chief, "I can
entirely dispose of your young men?"
"Entirely.
"They will be devoted to me?"
"I have said so, as to myself."
"Good!" said the hunter, as his face brightened; "how many warriors have
you?"
Black Cat held up ten times the fingers of his opened hands.
"One hundred?" Valentine asked.
"Yes," the chief replied, "and eight more."
"But the other tribes are far more numerous than yours?"
"They form a band of warriors twenty-two times and seven times more
numerous than mine."
"Hum! That is a tidy lot, without counting the pirates."
"Wah! There are thrice the number of the fingers of my two hands of the
Long-knives of the East."
"I fear," Don Pablo observed, "that we shall be crushed by the number of
our enemies."
"Perhaps so," Valentine, who was reflecting, answered; "where is Red
Cedar?"
"Red Cedar is with his brothers, the prairie half-breeds; he has joined
Stanapat's party."
At this moment the Apache war cry burst forth on the plain, a tremendous
discharge was heard, and the hill of the Mad Buffalo seemed begirt by a
halo of smoke and flashing lightning. The battle had began. The Indians
bravely mounted to the assault. They marched toward the hill,
continually discharging their muskets, and firing arrows at their
invisible enemies.
At the spot where the chain of hills touches the Gila, fresh parties of
Apaches could be seen incessantly arriving. They came up at a gallop, by
troops of three to twenty men at a time. Their horses were covered with
foam, leading to the presumption that they had made a long journey. The
Apaches were in their war paint, covered with all sorts of ornaments and
arms, with their bow and quiver on their back, and their musket in their
hands. Their heads were crowned with feathers, among them being several
magnificent black and white eagle plumes, with the large falling crest.
Seated on handsome saddlecloths of panther skin, lined with red, all had
the lower part of the body naked, with the exception of a long strip of
wolf skin passed over the shoulder. Their shields were ornamented with
feathers, and party coloured cloth. These men, thus accoutred, had
something grand and majestic about them which affected the imagination
and inspired terror.
Many of them at once climbed the heights, lashing their wearied horses,
so to arrive sooner at the battlefield, while singing and uttering their
war cry.
The contest seemed most obstinate in the neighbourhood of the
palisades; the two Mexicans and Curumilla, protected behind their
entrenchments, replied to the Apaches with a deadly fire, bravely
exciting each other to die weapons in hand. Several corpses already lay
on the plain; riderless horses galloped in every direction, and the
cries of the wounded were mingled with the yells of defiance of the
assailants.
What we have described in so many words, Valentine and Don Pablo
perceived in a few seconds, with the infallible glance of men long
accustomed to prairie life.
"Come, chief," the hunter said, quickly, "we must rejoin our friends;
help us; if not, they are lost."
"Good," Black Cat answered; "the pale hunter will place himself, with
his friend, in the midst of my detachment; in a few minutes he will be
on the hill. Above all, the pale chief must leave me to act."
"Do so; I trust entirely to you."
Black Cat said a few words in a low voice to the warriors who
accompanied him; they at once collected round the two hunters, who
entirely disappeared in their midst.
"Oh, oh," Don Pablo said, anxiously, "just look at this, my friend."
Valentine smiled as he took his arm.
"I have read the chief's intention," he said, "he is employing the only
way possible. Do not be alarmed, all is for the best."
Black Cat placed himself at the head of his detachment, and gave a
signal. A fearful yell burst through the air--the Buffalo tribe had
sounded its war cry. The Apaches, carrying the two men with them, rushed
furiously toward the hill, and ere Valentine and Don Pablo knew what was
happening, they had rejoined their friends, and Black Cat's warriors
fled in every direction, as if a fearful panic had seized on them.
Still the fight was not over; Stanapat's Indians rushed like tigers on
the palisades, and let themselves be killed without recoiling an inch.
The fight, if prolonged, must end fatally to the whites, whose strength
was becoming exhausted. Stanapat and Red Cedar understood this, and
hence redoubled their efforts to crush the enemy.
Suddenly, at the moment when the Apaches rushed furiously against the
whites to attempt a final assault; the war cry of the Coras was heard,
mingled with the discharge of firearms. The Apaches were surprised, and
hesitated; Red Cedar looked around, and uttered a curse; the war cry of
the Comanches rose behind the camp.
"Forward! Forward at all risks!" the squatter howled, as, followed by
his sons and some of his men, he rushed by toward the hill.
But the scene had changed as if by enchantment. Black Cat, on seeing the
help that had arrived for his friends, effected a junction with Unicorn;
the united bands attacked the Apaches on the flank, while Moukapec, at
the head of two hundred picked warriors of his nation, rushed on their
rear.
The flight began, and soon changed into a rout; Red Cedar, and a small
party of pirates collected around him, alone offered any resistance.
From assailants they had become assailed, and there must be an end to
it, or in a few minutes all would be over, as their retreat would be cut
off.
"Hurrah!" Red Cedar shouted, as he waved his rifle over his head like a
mace; "Down with the dogs! Take their scalps!"
"Take their scalps!" his companions exclaimed, imitating his movements,
and massacring all that opposed their passage.
They had managed to clear a bloody way, and were slowly moving toward
the river, when a man boldly threw himself before Red Cedar--it was
Moukapec.
"I bring you my scalp, dog of the palefaces!" he shouted, as he dealt a
blow at him with his tomahawk.
"Thanks," the bandit answered, as he parried the blow.
Eagle-wing bounded forward like a hyena, and before his enemy could
prevent it, buried his knife in his thigh. Red Cedar uttered a yell of
rage on feeling himself wounded, and drew his knife with one hand, while
with the other he seized the Indian by the throat. The latter felt that
he was lost; the blade flashed above his head, and was buried to the
hilt in his chest.
"Ah! Ah!" Red Cedar grinned, as he let down his enemy who rolled on the
ground, "I fancy our accounts are settled this time."
"Not yet," the Coras said, with a triumphant smile, and with a dying
effort he fired his rifle at the squatter.
The latter let go his reins, and fell by the side of the Indian.
"I die avenged," Eagle-wing said, as he writhed in a last convulsion.
"Oh, I am not dead yet," Red Cedar replied, as he rose on one knee and
cleft the Indian's skull; "I shall escape, never fear."
Red Cedar's shoulder was broken, still, thanks to the help of his
comrades, who did not give ground an inch, he was able to get on his
horse again, and Sutter and Nathan fastened him to the saddle.
"Back! Back!" he shouted, "Else we are lost! Each man for himself!"
The pirates obeyed him, and began flying in various directions, closely
followed by the Comanches and Coras. Still some managed to reach the
virgin forest, where they disappeared, others the river, which they
swam, Red Cedar being one of the former. Valentine and his friends, as
soon as they saw the issue of the fight, hastened to leave the hill of
the Mad Buffalo, and went down into the plain with the intention of
capturing Red Cedar; unfortunately they only arrived in time to see him
disappear in the distance; still, the unexpected result of the fight had
done them an immense service, not only by rescuing them from the false
position in which they were, but also by breaking up the league of the
Indian tribes, who, startled by the immense losses they had suffered,
would doubtless retire and leave the white men to settle their disputes
without interfering further in the quarrel.
As for Red Cedar, his band was annihilated or, dispersed, while himself,
seriously wounded, was no longer to be feared. The capture of this man,
forced to wander like a wild beast over the prairie, only became a
question of time. Stanapat had also escaped with a few warriors, no one
knowing in what direction he had gone.
The three united parties camped on the battlefield, according to their
custom. The Indians first occupied themselves with scalping the corpses
of their enemies. Singular to say, the victors had made no prisoners;
the fight had been so obstinate, that every man had only thought of
killing his enemy, instead of seizing him. Moukapec's body was raised
respectfully, and interred on the hill of Mad Buffalo, by the side of
the terrible chief who had first chosen the sepulchre. The sun set at
the moment when the last duties had been paid to the fallen warrior, and
the council fires were lighted. When all had taken their seats, and the
calumet had gone the round, Valentine rose.
"Chiefs," he said, "my friends and I thank you for your generous efforts
in trying to deliver the prairies of the Far West from the bandit who
has so long desolated them; we are not merely pursuing an idle
vengeance, but a work of humanity; this villain dishonours the name of
man, and the race to which he belongs. At the present moment, of the
numerous bandits who accompanied him, few are left him. The band of the
malefactors, which was the terror of the prairies, no longer exists; and
their chief himself, I feel convinced, will soon fall into our power.
Be ready, when necessary, to help us, as you have done today; until
then, return to your villages, and believe that, far or near, we shall
retain the recollection of the services you have rendered us, and that,
in case of need, you can count on us as we have ever done on you."
After uttering these words which the Indians applauded, Valentine sat
down again. There was a lengthened silence, employed by the Indians in
conscientiously smoking their calumets. Black Cat was the first to break
the silence.
"Let my brothers listen," he said; "the words I utter are inspired by
the Master of Life; the cloud that obscured my mind has passed away
since my Coras and Comanche brothers, those two brave nations, have
restored me the place, to which I had a right, at their council fires.
Unicorn is a wise chief, his friendship is precious to me. I hope that
the Wacondah will never allow between him and me, or between my young
men and his, during the next thousand and fifty moons, the slightest
misunderstanding which may rupture the friendship existing at this
moment."
Unicorn removed his pipe from his lips, bowed to Black Cat with a smile,
and answered--
"My brother Black Cat has spoken well; my heart quivered with joy on
hearing him. Why should we not be friends? Is not the prairie large
enough and wide enough for us? Are not the buffaloes sufficiently
numerous? Let my brothers listen: I seek around me in vain the war
hatchet; it is buried so deeply, that the sons and the grandsons of our
children will never succeed in digging it up."
Other speeches were made by several chiefs, and the best intelligence
did not cease to reign between the allies. At daybreak, they separated
in the most cordial manner, each returning to his village. Valentine and
his party remained alone. White Gazelle was leaning pensively against
the trunk of a tree a few paces from them.