CHAPTER V.

THE STRANGE WOMAN.

We are now obliged to return to the Americans' camp. As we have said,

Black and his son were mounting guard, and the pioneer was far from

easy in his mind. Although not yet possessed of all the experience

required for a desert life, the four months he had spent in fatiguing

marches and continued alarms had endowed him with a certain degree

of vigilance, which, under existing circumstances, might prove very

useful; not, perhaps, to prevent an attack, but, at least, to repulse

it. The situation of his camp was, besides, excellent; for from it he

surveyed the prairie for a great distance, and could easily perceive

the approach of an enemy.

Father and son were seated by the fire, rising from time to time, in

turn, to cast glances over the desert, and assure themselves that

nothing menaced their tranquillity. Black was a man gifted with an iron

will and a lion's courage; hitherto his schemes had been unsuccessful,

and he had sworn to make himself an honourable position, no matter at

what cost.

He was the descendant of an old family of squatters. The squatter being

an individuality peculiar to America, and vainly sought elsewhere, we

will describe him as he is, in a few words. On the lands belonging to

the United States, not yet cleared or put up for sale, large numbers

of persons have settled, with the desire of eventually _purchasing_

their lots. These inhabitants are called squatters. We will not say

that they are the pick of the western emigrants, but we know that,

in certain districts, they have constituted themselves a regular

Government, and have elected magistrates to watch over the execution

of the Draconian laws they have themselves laid down to insure the

tranquillity of the territories they have invaded. But by the side of

these quasi-honest squatters, who bow their necks beneath a yoke that

is often harsh, there is another class of squatters, who understand

the possession of land in its widest sense; that is to say, whenever

they discover, in their vagabond peregrinations, a tract of land that

suits them, they instal themselves there without any further inquiry,

and caring nothing for the rightful owner, who, when he arrives with

his labourers to till his estate, is quite annoyed to find it is in the

hands of an individual who, trusting to the axiom that possession is

nine points of the law, refuses to give it up, and if he insist, drives

him away by means of his rifle and revolver.

We know a capital story of a gentleman, who, starting from New York

with two hundred labourers, to clear a virgin forest he had purchased

some ten years previously, and never turned to any use, found, on

arriving at his claim, a town of four thousand souls built on the site

of his virgin forest, of which not a tree remained. After numberless

discussions, the said gentleman esteemed himself very fortunate in

being able to depart with a whole skin, and without paying damages to

his despoilers, whom he had momentarily hoped to oust. But there is no

more chance of ousting a squatter, than you can get a dollar out of a

Yankee, when he has once pocketed it.

John Black belonged to the former of the two classes we have described.

When he reached the age of twenty, his father gave him an axe, a rifle

with twenty charges of powder, and a bowie knife, saying to him--

"Listen, boy. You are now tall and strong; it would be a shame for you

to remain longer a burden on me. I have your two brothers to support.

America is large; there is no want of land. Go in God's name, and

never let me hear of you again. With the weapons I give you, and the

education you have received, your fortune will soon be made, if you

like: before all, avoid all disagreeable disputes, and try not to be

hanged."

After this affectionate address, the father tenderly embraced his son,

put him out of the cabin, and slammed the door in his face. From that

moment John Black had never heard of his father--it is true that he

never tried to obtain any news about him.

Life had been rough to him at the outset; but owing to his character,

and a certain elasticity of principle, the sole inheritance his family

had given him, he had contrived to gain a livelihood, and bring up his

children without any great privations. Either through the isolation in

which he had passed his youth, or for some other reason we are ignorant

of, Black adored his wife and children, and would not have parted from

them on any account. When fatality compelled him to give up the farm he

occupied, and look for another, he set out gaily, sustained by the love

of his family, no member of which was ungrateful for the sacrifices he

imposed on himself; and he had resolved to go this time so far, that

no one would ever come to dispossess him, for he had been obliged to

surrender his farm to its legitimate proprietor, which he had done on

the mere exhibition of the title deeds, without dreaming of resistance

--a conduct which had been greatly blamed by all his neighbours.

Black wished to see his family happy, and watched over it with the

jealous tenderness of a hen for its chicks. Thus, on this evening,

an extreme alarm had preyed on him, though he could not explain the

cause: the disappearance of the Indians did not seem to him natural;

everything around was too calm, the silence of the desert too profound:

he could not remain at any one spot, and, in spite of his son's

remarks, rose every moment to take a look over the intrenchments.

William felt for his father a great affection, mingled with respect:

the state in which he saw him vexed him the more, because there was

nothing to account for his extraordinary restlessness.

"Good gracious, father!" he said, "do not trouble yourself so much; it

really causes me pain to see you in such a state. Do you suppose that

the Indians would have attacked us by such a moonlight as this? Look,

objects can be distinguished as in broad day; I am certain you might

even read the Bible by the silvery rays."

"You are right for the present moment, Will. The Redskins are too

crafty to face our rifles during the moonshine; but in an hour the moon

will have set, and the darkness will then protect them sufficiently to

allow them to reach the foot of the barricade unnoticed."

"Do not imagine they will attempt it, my dear father! Those red devils

have seen us sufficiently close to know that they can only expect a

volley of bullets from us."

"Hum! I am not of your opinion; our beasts would be riches to them: I

do not wish to abandon them, as we should then be compelled to return

to the plantations to procure others, which would be most disagreeable,

you will allow."

"It is true; but we shall not be reduced to that extremity."

"May Heaven grant it, my boy; but do you hear nothing?"

The young man listened attentively.

"No," he said, at the end of a moment.

The emigrant proceeded with a sigh: "I visited the river bank this

morning, and I have rarely seen a spot better suited for a settlement.

The virgin forest that extends behind us would supply excellent

firewood, without reckoning the magnificent planks to be obtained from

it: there are several hundred acres around, which, from their proximity

to the water, would produce, I am certain, excellent crops."

"Would you feel inclined to settle here, then?"

"Have you any objection?"

"I--none at all! provided we can live and work together. I care little

at what place we stop: this spot appears to me as good as another, and

it is far enough from the settlements to prevent our being turned out,

at least for a great number of years."

"That is exactly my view."

At this moment a gentle quivering ran along the tall grass.

"This time I am certain I am not mistaken," the emigrant exclaimed; "I

heard something."

"And I too!" the young man said, rising quickly, and seizing his rifle.

The two men hurried to the entrenchments, but they saw nothing of a

suspicious nature: the prairie was still perfectly calm.

"'Tis some wild beast going down to drink, or returning," Will said, to

reassure his father.

"No, no," the latter replied, with a shake of the head; "it is not the

noise made by any animal--it was the echo of a man's footfall, I am

convinced."

"The simplest way is to go and see."

"Come then."

The two men resolutely climbed over the intrenchments, and with rifles

outstretched, went round the camp, carefully searching the bushes, and

assuring themselves that no foe lurked in them.

"Well!" they exclaimed, when they met.

"Nothing--and you?"

"Nothing."

"It is strange," John Black muttered, "and yet the noise was very

distinct."

"That is true; but I repeat, father, that it was nothing but an animal

leaping somewhere near. In a night so calm as this, the slightest sound

is heard for a great distance; besides, we are now certain that no one

is concealed near us."

"Let us go back," the emigrant said, thoughtfully. They began climbing

over the entrenchments; but both stopped suddenly, by mutual agreement,

hardly checking a cry of amazement, almost of terror. They had just

perceived a human being, whose outline it was impossible to trace at

such a distance, crouched over the fire.

"This time I will have it out," the emigrant exclaimed, taking a

prodigious bound into the camp.

"And I, too," his son murmured, as he followed his example.

But when they came opposite their strange visitor, their surprise

was redoubled. In spite of themselves, they stopped to gaze on the

stranger, without thinking to ask how he had entered their camp, and by

what right he had done so.

As far as they could form a judgment, they soon began to consider

the extraordinary being before them--a woman; but years, the mode of

life she led, and perchance cares, had furrowed her face with such a

multitude of cross hatchings, that it was impossible to conjecture her

age, or whether she had formerly been lovely. The large black eyes,

surmounted by thick brows crossing her curved nose, and deep sunk,

flashed with a gloomy fire; her salient and empurpled cheekbones, her

large mouth studded with dazzling teeth, and her thin lips and square

chin, gave her at first an appearance which was far from arousing

sympathy and exciting confidence; while her long black hair, matted

with leaves and grass, fell in disorder on her shoulders. She wore a

costume more suited for a man than a woman. It was composed of a long

robe of buffalo hide, with short sleeves, fastened on the hips by a

girdle bedizened with beads. This robe had the skirt fringed with

feathers, and only came down to the knee. Her _mitasses_ were fastened

round the ankles, and reached slightly above the knee, where they were

held up by garters of buffalo hide. Her _humpis_ or slippers were plain

and unornamented. She wore iron rings on her wrist, two or three bead

collars round her neck, and earrings. From her girdle hung on one side

a powder flask, an axe, and a bowie knife; on the other, a bullet pouch

and a long Indian pipe. Across her knees lay a rather handsome gun, of

English manufacture.

She was crouching over the fire, which she gazed at fixedly, with her

chin on the palm of her hand.

On the arrival of the Americans, she did not rise, and did not even

appear to notice their presence. After examining her attentively for

some time, Black walked up, and, tapping her on the shoulder, said--

"You are welcome, woman; it seems as if you were cold, and the fire

does not displease you."

She slowly raised her head on feeling the touch, and, fixing on her

questioner a gloomy glance, in which it was easy to perceive a slight

wildness, she replied in English, in a hollow voice, and with guttural

accent--

"The Palefaces are mad; they ever think themselves in their towns; they

forget that in the prairie the trees have ears and the leaves eyes to

see and hear all that is done. The Blackfeet Indians raise their hair

very skilfully."

The two men looked at each other on hearing these words, whose meaning

they were afraid to guess, though they seemed somewhat obscure.

"Are you hungry? Will you eat?" John Black continued, "or is it thirst

that troubles you? I can, if you like, give you a good draught of

firewater to warm you."

The woman frowned.

"Fire-water is good for Indian squaws," she said, "what good would it

do me to drink it? Others will come who will soon dispose of it. Do you

know how many hours you still have to live?"

The emigrant shuddered, in spite of himself at this species of menace.

"Why speak to me thus?" he asked; "have you any cause of complaint

against me?"

"I care little," she continued. "I am not among the living, since my

heart is dead."

She turned her head in every direction with a slow and solemn movement,

while carefully examining the country.

"Stay," she continued, pointing with her lean arm to a mound of grass a

short distance off, "'twas there he fell--'tis there he rests. His head

was cleft asunder by an axe during his sleep--poor James! This spot is

ill-omened: do you not know it? The vultures and the crows alone stay

here at long intervals. Why, then, have you come here? Are you weary of

life? Do you hear them? They are approaching; they will soon be here."

Father and son exchanged a glance.

"She is mad. Poor creature!" Black muttered.

"Yes; that is what they all say on the prairies," she exclaimed, with

some accusation in her voice. "They call me _Ohucahauck Chiké_ (the

evil one of the earth), because they fear me as their evil genius. You,

also, fancy me mad, eh? ah! ah! ah!"

She burst into a strident laugh, which ended in a sob; she buried

her face in her hands, and wept. The two men felt awed in spite of

themselves; this strange grief, these incoherent words, all aroused

their interest in favour of this poor creature, who appeared so

unhappy. Pity was at work in their hearts, and they regarded her

silently without daring to disturb her. In a few moments she raised her

head, passed the back of her hand over her eyes to dry them, and spoke

again. The wild expression had disappeared; the very sound of her voice

was no longer the same; as if by enchantment, a complete change had

taken place in her.

"Pardon," she said mournfully, "the extravagant words I have uttered.

The solitude in which I live, and the heavy burden of woe which has

crushed me so long, at times trouble my reason; and then the place

where we now stand reminds me of terrible scenes, whose cruel memory

will never be erased from my mind."

"Madam, I assure you--," John Black continued, not knowing what he

said, so great was his surprise.

"Now the fit has passed away." She interrupted him with a gentle

and melancholy smile, which gave her countenance a very different

expression from that the Americans had hitherto remarked; "I have been

following you for the last two days to come to your help; the Redskins

are preparing to attack you--"

The two men shuddered: and, forgetting all else to think only of the

pressing danger, they cast a restless glance around them.

"You know it?" Black exclaimed.

"I know all," she answered; "but reassure yourselves. You have still

two hours ere their horrible war cry will sound in your ears; that is

more than enough to render you safe."

"Oh! we have good rifles and keen sight," said William, clutching his

weapon in his nervous hands.

"What can four rifles, however good they may be, do against two or

three hundred tigers thirsting for blood, like those you will have to

fight? You do not know the Redskins, young man."

"That is true," he answered; "but what is to be done?"

"Seek a refuge?--where find help in these immense solitudes?" the

father added, casting a despairing glance around him.

"Did I not tell you I wished to help you?" she said, sharply.

"Yes; you told us so; but I try in vain to detect of what use you can

be to us."

She smiled a melancholy smile.

"It is your good angel that brought you to the spot where you now are.

While I was watching you all the day, I trembled lest you might not

encamp here. Come!"

The two men, surprised by the ascendancy this strange creature had

gained over them in a few minutes, followed her without reply. After

walking about a dozen steps, she stopped, and turned toward them.

"Look," she said, stretching out her thin arm in a north-west

direction, "your enemies are there, scarce two leagues off, buried in

the tall grass. I have heard their plans, and was present at their

council, though they little suspected it. They are only waiting for the

moon to set, ere they attack you. You have scarce an hour left."

"My poor wife!" Black murmured.

"It is impossible for me to save you all: to fancy it would be madness;

but I can, if you wish it, attempt to save your wife and daughter from

the fate that menaces them."

"Speak! speak!"

"This tree, at the foot of which we are now standing, although

apparently possessing all the vigour of youth, is internally hollow,

so that only the bark stands upright. Your wife and daughter, supplied

with some provisions, will get into the tree and remain there in safety

till the danger has passed away. As for ourselves--"

"As for us," Black quickly interrupted her, "we are men accustomed to

danger: our fate is in the hands of God."

"Good; but do not despair: all is not lost yet."

The American shook his head.

"As you said yourself, what can four men do against a legion of demons

like those who menace us? But that is not the question of the moment. I

do not see the hole by which my wife and daughter can enter the tree."

"It is twenty to twenty-four feet up, hidden among the branches and

leaves."

"The Lord be praised! they will be sheltered."

"Yes; but make haste and warn them, while your son and I make all the

preparations."

Black, convinced of the necessity of haste, ran off, while the stranger

and William constructed, with that dexterity produced by the approach

of danger, a species of handy ladder, by which the two women could not

merely ascend the tree, but go down into the cavity. Black waked the

ladies, and called the servants; in a few words he explained to them

what was passing; then, loading his wife and daughter with provisions,

furs, and other indispensable objects, he led them to the spot where

the stranger was expecting them.

"This is my most precious treasure," Black said; "if I save it, I shall

be solely indebted to you."

The two ladies began thanking their mysterious protectress; but she

imposed silence on them by a peremptory gesture.

"Presently, presently," she said; "if we escape, we shall have plenty

of time for mutual congratulations; but at this moment we have

something more important to do than exchange compliments. We must get

into a place of safety."

The two ladies fell back, quite repulsed by this rough reception, while

casting a curious and almost alarmed glance on the strange creature.

But the latter, perfectly stoical, seemed to notice nothing. She

explained in a few clear words the means she had found to conceal them:

recommended them to remain silent in the hollow tree, and then ordered

them to mount. The two ladies, after embracing Black and his son, began

resolutely ascending the rungs of the improvised ladder. They reached

in a few seconds an enormous branch, on which they stopped, by the

orders of the stranger. Black then threw down into the interior of the

tree the furs and provisions, after which the ladder was placed inside,

and the ladies glided through the hole.

"We leave you the ladder, which is useless to us," the stranger then

said. "But be very careful not to come out till you have seen me again;

the least imprudence, under the circumstances, might cost your lives.

However, keep your minds at rest. Your imprisonment will not be long, a

few hours at the most: so be of good cheer."

The ladies once again tried to express their gratitude; but, without

listening, the stranger made Black a sign to follow her, and rapidly

descended from the tree. Aided by the Americans, she then began

removing every trace that might have revealed where the ladies were

bestowed. When the stranger had assured herself, by a final glance,

that all was in order, and nothing could betray those who were so

famously hidden, she sighed, and followed by the two men, walked to the

intrenchments.

"Now," she said, "let us watch attentively around us, for these demons

will probably crawl close up in the shadows. You are free and honest

Americans, show these accursed Indians what you can do."

"Let them come!" Black muttered hoarsely.

"They will soon do so," she replied, and pointed to several almost

imperceptible black dots, which, however, grew larger, and were

evidently approaching the encampment.

The Prairie Flower: A Tale of the Indian Border · 第 5 / 28 章