THE GROTTO.
We will now resume our narrative at the point where we left it at the
end of our first chapter, and rejoin Red Cedar, who thanks to the
weapons found in the cache, had regained all his ferocity and was
already dreaming of revenge.
The bandit's position, however, was still very perplexing, and would
have terrified any man whose mind was not so strong as his own. However
large the desert may be--however perfect a man's knowledge may be of the
prairie refuges--it is impossible for him, if alone, to escape for any
length of time the search of persons who have an interest in catching
him.
This had just been proved to Red Cedar in a peremptory way: he did not
conceal from himself the numberless difficulties that surrounded him,
and could not dream of regaining his encampment. The enemies on his
track would not fail to catch him, and this time they would not allow
him to escape so easily.
This position was intolerable, and it must be put an end to at all
risks. But Red Cedar was not the man to remain crushed by the blow that
had struck him: he drew himself together again, in order to prepare his
vengeance promptly. Like all evil natures, Red Cedar regarded as an
insult all attempts persons made to escape from his perfidity. At this
moment he had a rude account to settle with whites and redskins. Alone
as he was, he could not think of rejoining his comrades and attacking
the enemies, who would have crushed him under their heel like a venomous
serpent: he needed allies.
His hesitation was but short, and his plan was formed in a few minutes.
He resolved to carry out the project for which he had left his comrades,
and proceeded toward an Apache village, situate a short distance off.
Still, he did not intend to go there, for the present at least, for,
after a rapid walk of more than three hours, he suddenly turned to his
right, and retiring from the banks of the Gila, which he had hitherto
followed, he left the road to the village, and entered a mountainous
region, differing entirely in its character from the plains he had
hitherto traversed.
The ground rose perceptibly, and was intersected by streams that ran
down to the Gila. Clumps of the ferns, drawing closer together, served
as the advanced guard of a gloomy virgin forest on the horizon. The
landscape gradually assumed a more savage and abrupt aspect, and spurs
of the imposing Sierra Madre displayed here and there their desolate
peaks.
Red Cedar walked along with that light and springy step peculiar to men
accustomed to cover long distances on foot, looking neither to the right
nor left, and apparently following a direction he was perfectly
acquainted with. Smiling at his thoughts, he did not seem to notice that
the sun had almost entirely disappeared behind the imposing mass of the
virgin forest, and that night was falling with extreme rapidity.
The howling of the wild beasts could be heard echoing in the depths of
the ravines, mingled with the miauwling of the carcajous and the barking
of the prairie wolves--bands of which were already prowling at a short
distance from the bandit. But he, apparently insensible to all these
hints about getting a resting place for the night, continued his advance
in the mountains, among which he had entered some time previously.
On reaching a species of crossroad, if such a term can be employed in
speaking of a country where no roads exist, he stopped and looked all
around him. After a few moments' hesitation, he buried himself in a
narrow path running between two hills, and boldly climbed up a very
steep ascent. At length, after a fatiguing climb, that lasted nearly
three-quarters of an hour, he reached a spot where the path, suddenly
interrupted, only presented a gulf, in the bottom of which the murmurs
of invisible waters could be just heard.
The precipice was about twenty yards in width, and over it lay an
enormous log, serving as a bridge. At the end of this was the entrance
of a natural grotto, in which the flames of a fire flashed up at
intervals. Red Cedar stopped--a smile of satisfaction curled his thin
lips at the sight of the flames reflected on the walls of the grotto.
"They are there," he said, in a low voice, and as if speaking to
himself.
He then put his fingers in his mouth, and imitated with rare skill the
soft and cadenced note of the _maukawis_. An instant after, a similar
cry was heard from the grotto; and Red Cedar clapped his hands thrice.
The gigantic shadow of a man, reflected by the light of the fire,
appeared in the entrance of the grotto, and a rude and powerful voice
shouted in the purest Castilian--
"Who goes there?"
"A friend," the bandit answered.
"Your name, _caray_," the stranger continued; "there are no friends in
the desert at this hour of the night."
"Oh, oh!" Red Cedar continued; bursting into a hoarse laugh, "I see that
Don Pedro Sandoval is as prudent as ever."
"Man or demon, as you know me so well," the stranger said, in a somewhat
softer tone, "tell me what your name is, I say once again, or, by
heaven, I'll lodge a couple of slugs in your skull. So do not let me run
the risk of killing a friend."
"Come, come, calm yourself, hidalgo; did you not recognise my voice, and
have you so short a memory that you have already forgotten Red Cedar."
"Red Cedar!" the Spaniard repeated in surprise, "then you are not hung
yet, my worthy friend?"
"Not yet; to my knowledge, gossip. I hope to prove it to you ere long."
"Come across, in the devil's name; do not let us go on talking at this
distance."
The stranger left the bridgehead, where he had stationed himself,
probably to dispute the passage in case of necessity, and drew off,
uncocking his rifle. Not waiting for a second invitation, Red Cedar
bounded on to the tree and crossed it in a few seconds; he
affectionately shook the Spaniard's hand, and then they entered the
grotto together.
This grotto or cavern, whichever you please to call it, was wide and
lofty, divided into several compartments by large frames of reeds,
rising to a height of at least eight feet, and forming ten rooms or
cells, five on either side the grotto, beginning at about twenty paces
from the entrance--a space left free to act as kitchen and dining room.
The entrance to each cell was formed by a zarapé, which descended to the
ground after the fashion of a curtain door.
At the extremity of the passage that ran between the two rows of cells
was another compartment, serving as storehouses; and beyond this a
natural passage ran through the mountain, and terminated almost a league
off, in an almost inaccessible ravine.
All proved that this grotto was not a bivouac chosen for a night or two,
but an abode adopted for many years past, in which all the comfort had
been collected which it is possible to procure in these regions remote
from any centre of population.
Round the fire, over which an enormous quarter of elk meat was roasting,
nine men, armed to the teeth, were sitting and smoking in silence. On
Red Cedar's entrance, they rose and came up to shake his hand eagerly,
and with a species of respect. These men wore the garb of hunters or
wood rangers: their marked features, their ferocious and crafty faces,
on which the traces of the most disgraceful and ignoble passions were
marked in indelible characters, strongly lighted up by the fantastic
flashes of the fire, had something strange and gloomy about them, which
inspired terror and revulsion.
It could be guessed at the first glance that these men, the unclean scum
of adventurers of all nations, lost in sin and compelled to fly to the
desert to escape the iron hand of justice, had declared an obstinate war
against those who had placed them beyond the pale of the common law of
nations, and were, in a word, what are called, by common consent,
pirates of the prairies.
Pitiless men, a hundredfold more ruffianly than the most ferocious
redskins, who conceal a soul of mud and a tiger's heart under a human
appearance, and who, having adopted the savage life of the Far West,
have assumed all the vices of the white and red races, without retaining
one of their qualities. Villains, in a word, who only know murder and
robbery, and for a little gold are capable of the greatest crimes. Such
was the company Red Cedar had come so far to seek.
We are bound to add, and the reader will easily believe it, that he was
not out of his place, and that his antecedents, on the contrary, gained
him a certain degree of consideration from these bandits, with whom he
had been long acquainted.
"Caballeros," Sandoval said, bowing with exquisite politeness to the
brigands, his comrades, "our friend, Red Cedar, has returned among us;
let us greet him like a jolly companion whom we have missed too long,
and whom we are delighted to see again."
"Señores," Red Cedar answered, as he took a seat by the fire, "I thank
you for your cordial reception, and hope soon to prove to you that I am
not ungrateful."
"Well!" one of the bandits said, "Has our friend any good news to impart
to us? It would be welcome, deuce take me! For a whole month we have had
to scheme a living."
"Are you really in that state?" the squatter asked, with interest.
"Quite so," Sandoval confirmed him; "and Perico has only spoken the
exact truth."
"Hang it all!" Red Cedar went on, "I have come at the right moment,
then."
"Eh?" the bandits said, pricking up their ears.
"And yet I fancy that, for some time past, caravans have been becoming
more numerous in the desert: there is no lack of white or red trappers,
who every now and then can be saved the trouble of carrying their beaver
skins. I have even heard speak of several parties of gambusinos."
"The gambusinos are as badly off as ourselves," Sandoval replied; "and
as for trappers, they are the very men who injure us. Ah! My friend, the
desert is not worth a hang now; the white men are drawing too close
together, they are gradually invading the territory of the redskins, and
who knows whether, in ten years from this time, we shall not have towns
all round the spot where we now are?"
"There is some truth in your remark," Red Cedar observed, as he shook
his head thoughtfully.
"Yes," Perico said; "and, unfortunately, the remedy is difficult, if not
impossible to find."
"Perhaps so," Red Cedar went on, tossing his head in a way which caused
the Pirates to wonder what he was driving at. "In the meanwhile," he
added, "as I have made a long journey, feel very tired, and have a
tremendous appetite, I will feed, with your permission, especially as it
is late, and the meal is admirably cooked."
Without further ceremony, Red Cedar cut a large slice of elk, which he
placed before him, and began incontinently devouring. The pirates
followed his example, and for some time the conversation was naturally
suspended. A hunter's meal is never long; the present one was soon over,
owing to the impatience of the band, whose curiosity was aroused to the
highest degree by the few words dropped by the squatter.
"Well," Sandoval began again, as he lit a cigarette, "now that supper is
over, suppose we have a chat. Are you agreeable, comrade?"
"Willingly," Red Cedar replied, as he settled himself comfortably, and
filled his pipe.
"You were saying then--" Sandoval remarked.
"Pardon me," the squatter interrupted him; "I was saying nothing. You
were complaining, I believe, about the whites destroying your trade by
coming closer and closer to your abode."
"Yes, that was what I was saying."
"You added, if my memory serves me right, that the remedy was impossible
to find?"
"To which you answered, perhaps."
"I said so, and repeat it."
"Explain yourself, then."
"The affair I have come to propose to you is extremely simple: For some
years past the whites have been gradually invading the desert, which, in
a given time which is not remote, will end by disappearing before the
incessant efforts of civilisation."
"It is true."
"Well, if you like, within a month you shall be rich men."
"We will, _caray_," the bandits exclaimed in a formidable voice.
"I will tell you the affair in two words: I have discovered a placer of
incalculable wealth; twenty leagues from here, I have left one hundred
men devoted to my fortunes. Will you imitate them and follow me? I
promise each of you more gold than he ever saw in his life or ever
dreamed of possessing."
"Hum!" said Sandoval; "It is tempting."
"I thought of you, my old comrades," Red Cedar continued with
hypocritical simplicity, "and have come. Now, you know my plan; reflect
on what I have said to you; tomorrow, at sunrise, you will give me your
answer."
And, without mingling further in the conversation, Red Cedar rolled
himself up in a zarapé, and fell asleep, leaving the bandits to discuss
among themselves the chance of success his magnificent proposal offered.