ON THE ISLAND.
The sun had descended on the horizon, and darkness was invading the sky;
ere long a dense veil of gloom was spread over the entire face of
nature. The Indians seemed to have given up all idea of attacking the
whites, but did not leave the riverbank; on the contrary, their number
momentarily increased. On either bank of the Gila they had lit large
fires, and put up their tents.
The situation of the fugitives was far from reassuring; sheltered on an
island, whence they could not escape without being seen by their
vigilant enemies, their provisions were reduced to a few handfuls of
maize boiled in water, and a little pemmican. Their ammunition consisted
of twenty charges of powder at the most.
The hunters lit no fire, for fear of letting the Apaches know the exact
spot where they were; collected in the middle of the island in a dense
thicket, they watched over Doña Clara, who, overwhelmed by the terrible
emotions of the day, had yielded to sleep, and was lying on a bed of dry
leaves.
Valentine and his friends watched the movements of the enemy by the
light of their bivouac fires. Opposite the island, and round a fire
larger than the rest, several chiefs, among whom Black Cat could be
clearly distinguished, appeared engaged in a lively discussion. At
length, two men rose and advanced slowly to the water's edge; on
reaching it, they took off their buffalo robes, raised them above their
heads, and let them float in the breeze.
"Do you see that?" Don Pablo said to Valentine. "The redskins wish to
parley with us."
"What the deuce can they have to say to us?" the hunter answered; "the
demons must know in what extremities we are."
"No matter. I fancy we shall do well by receiving them.
"What does Eagle-wing think of it?" Valentine asked the Coras, who,
crouched near them with his head resting on the palms of his hands, was
reflecting deeply.
"The Apaches are foxes without courage," the sachem answered; "let us
hear what they want."
"And you, _penni_, what is your opinion?" the hunter said, turning to
Curumilla.
"My brother is prudent," the Aucas Ulmen replied; "we can hear the
propositions of the Apaches."
"Well, as you all wish it, I consent; but I feel certain that no good
will come of this interview."
"Perhaps so," Shaw remarked.
"That is not my opinion," Don Pablo said.
"Koutonepi must not receive them here," Curumilla went on. "The Apache
are very crafty; they have an extremely forked tongue, and the eyes of
tiger cats."
"That is true," said Valentine; "let us go and see what they want."
He rose, making Curumilla a sign to follow him; and after assuring
himself that his arms were in good condition, he walked to the end of
the island. The Indians were still continuing their signals, and
Valentine raised his hands to his mouth in the shape of a speaking
trumpet.
"What do the Buffalo Apaches want?" he shouted.
"The chiefs have to speak with the palefaces, but they cannot hear them
at such a distance. Will the palefaces promise them safety if the
warriors come to them?"
"Come," Valentine replied, "but mind, only two of you."
"Good," the chief said, "two warriors will come."
The Apaches consulted for an instant together, and then took from among
the lofty grass in which it was concealed a light raft, which the
hunters had not noticed, and prepared to gain the island.
The whites awaited them, resting on their rifles, apparently careless,
but anxiously watching the shrubs on the bank, behind which the Apache
warriors were doubtless hidden, and watching them in their turn.
The Indians landed and walked toward the hunters with all the etiquette
prescribed by the law of the prairies. On seeing that the Indians were
unarmed, Valentine handed his rifle to Don Pablo, who laid it a few
paces behind him.
"Good," Black Cat muttered, with a smile; "my brother acts loyally. I
expected that from him."
"Hum, chief!" Valentine answered, sharply; "Enough of compliments--what
have you to say to me?"
"My pale brother does not like to lose time in vain words," the Indian
said; "he is a wise man. I bring him the propositions of the principal
chiefs of the tribe."
"Let us hear them, chief. If they are just, although we are not in so
bad a position as you may suppose, we may possibly accept them, merely
for the sake of saving bloodshed."
"There are at this moment more than two hundred warriors assembled on
the riverbank; tomorrow there will be five hundred. Now, as the
palefaces have no canoes, as they are not otters to plunge unseen into
the 'endless river,' or birds to soar in the air--"
"What next?" Valentine interrupted him impertinently.
"How will my brothers eat, when the little provision they have is
exhausted? With what will my brothers defend themselves when they have
burnt all their powder?"
"I presume that is of little consequence to you, chief," the hunter
answered, with ill-concealed impatience. "You did not ask the interview
I have granted to talk nonsense, so I must ask you to come to facts."
"I only wished to prove to my brother that we are well-informed, and
know that the palefaces have no means of flight or safety. If, then, my
brothers are willing, they can rejoin their nations, without being
impeded by us in their retreat."
"Ah, ah! And in what way, chief, if you please?"
"By delivering to us immediately two persons who are here."
"Only think of that! And who may these two persons be?"
"The White Lily and the Coras Chief."
"Listen, chief: if you took the trouble to come here in order to make me
such a proposal, you were wrong to leave your comrades," Valentine said,
with a grin.
"My brother will reflect," the Apache said, with perfect calmness.
"I never reflect when the question is the commission of an act of
cowardice, chief," Valentine answered sharply. "We have known each
other for a long time; many of your warriors have been sent by me to the
happy hunting grounds. I have often fought against you, and never on the
desert have you or your brothers had to reproach me with an action
unworthy of an honest hunter."
"That is true," the two chiefs answered, with a deferential bow; "my
brother is beloved and esteemed by all the Apaches."
"Thanks. Now listen to me: the maiden you call White Lily, and whom you
made prisoner, is free by right and in fact, and you know very well that
you have no right to ask her of me."
"Several of our brothers, the most valiant warriors of our tribe, have
gone to the happy hunting grounds before their hour marked by the
Wacondah: their blood cries for vengeance."
"That does not concern me; these were killed fighting like brave men,
and those are the chances of war."
"My brother has spoken well," Black Cat said. "The Lily is free; she can
remain with the warriors of her nation. I consent to it. But my brother
cannot refuse to give up to me the Indian hidden in his camp."
"That Indian is my friend," the hunter answered nobly; "he is not my
prisoner, that I can deliver him up. I have no right to compel him to
leave me. If he prefers to remain with us, the chief knows that
hospitality is sacred on the prairie; if Moukapec wishes to return to
his brothers, he is free. But what interest have the Apaches in my
giving this man into their hands?"
"He has betrayed his nation, and must be punished."
"Do you imagine, chief, that I should deliberately, and stifling every
feeling of gratitude within me, place in your hands a man I love, whose
devotion is known to me, in order that you may kill him with horrible
torture? On my soul, chief, you must be mad."
"You must do it, or woe to you!" Black Cat said with a degree of heat he
could not repress.
"It shall not be," Valentine answered coldly.
"It shall be!" a calm and haughty voice said.
And Eagle-wing suddenly appeared in the midst of the group.
"What!" Valentine exclaimed with amazement, "you would give yourself up
to torture? I will not suffer it, chief: remain with your friends, we
will save you, or perish together."
The Coras shook his head sadly.
"No!" he said, "I cannot do that, it would be cowardly. The White Lily
of the Valley must be saved. I have sworn to her father to devote myself
to her, and my brother Koutonepi must let me accomplish my promise."
"But these men," Valentine continued to urge, "have no claim on you."
Moukapec let his head sink.
"By Nuestra Señora del Pilar," Don Pablo interrupted him with emotion,
"we cannot thus abandon a man who has done us many services."
Valentine, with his eyes fixed on the ground, was reflecting.
"Good," Black Cat went on; "Eagle-wing is here, the palefaces are free:
they will return to their great lodges whenever they please: they will
find the roads open. The Apaches have only one word; let the warrior
follow me."
The Indian took a parting glance at his friends, and a sigh escaped from
his chest; but with a superior effort he overcame the sorrow that choked
him, his face assumed its usual mask of stoicism, and turning to the two
Apache chiefs, he said in a firm voice--
"I am ready: let us go."
The hunters exchanged a glance of discouragement, but they made no
attempt to oppose the Coras' resolution, for they knew that it would be
futile. But at this moment Doña Clara suddenly appeared, walked boldly
up to the Indian, and touched him lightly on the shoulder.
"Stay!" she exclaimed. "I will not have you go, chief."
Eagle-wing turned as if he had received an electric shock, and gave the
maiden a glance of undefinable expression; but he overcame this emotion,
and reassumed his apparent coolness.
"I must go," he said softly, "the Lily must not restrain me; she is
doubtless ignorant that her safety depends on my departure."
"I have heard everything," she quickly retorted. "I know the odious
propositions these men have dared to make, and the condition they had
audacity to insist on."
"Well, why then does my sister wish to stop me?"
"Because," the maiden energetically exclaimed, "I will not accept that
condition."
"By Heavens! That is fine," Valentine said joyfully; "that is what I
call speaking."
"Yes," the young lady continued, "in my father's name I order you not to
leave this island, chief--in my father's name, who, were he here, would
order you as I do."
"I answer for that," Don Pablo said; "my father has too noble a heart to
assent to an act of cowardice."
The maiden turned to the Indian chief, who had been stoically witnessing
the scene.
"Begone, redskins," she went on with a majestic accent, impossible to
render, "you see that all your victims escape you."
"Honour bids me go," the warrior murmured feebly.
Doña Clara took his hand between hers, and looked at him softly.
"Moukapec!" she said to him, in her melodious and pure voice, "do you
not know that yours would be a useless sacrifice? The Apaches are only
striving to deprive us of our most devoted defender, that they may make
an easier conquest of us. They are very treacherous Indians; remain with
us."
Eagle-wing hesitated for a moment, and the two chiefs tried in vain to
read on his face the feelings that affected him. During several seconds,
a leaden silence weighed on this group of men, whose hearts could be
heard beating. At length the Coras raised his head, and answered with an
effort--
"You insist; I remain here."
Then he turned to the chief, who was waiting anxiously.
"Go," he said to them in a firm voice, "return to the tents of your
tribe. Tell your brothers, who were never mine, but who at times have
granted me a cordial hospitality, that Moukapec, the great Sachem of the
Coras of the lakes, takes back his liberty: he gives up all claim to
fire and water in their villages; he wishes to have nothing more in
common with them; and if the Apache dogs prowl round him, and seek him,
they will find him ever ready to meet them face to face on the warpath.
I have spoken."
The Buffalo chiefs had listened to these words with that calmness which
never abandons the Indians; not a feature on their faces had quivered.
When the Coras warrior finished speaking, Black Cat looked at him
fixedly, and replied to him with a cold and cutting accent--
"I have heard a crow, the Coras are cowardly squaws, to whom the Apache
warriors will give petticoats. Moukapec is a prairie dog, the sunbeams
hurt his eyes, he will make his lair with the paleface hares, my nation
no longer knows him."
"Much good may it do him," Valentine remarked with a smile, while
Eagle-wing shrugged his shoulders at this outburst of insults.
"I retire," Black Cat continued; "ere the owl has twice saluted the sun,
the scalps of the palefaces will be fastened to my girdle."
"And," the second chief added, "the young men of my tribe will make war
whistles of the white thieves' bones."
"Very good," Valentine replied, with a crafty smile; "try it, we are
ready to receive you, and our rifles carry a long distance."
"The palefaces are boasting and yelping dogs," Black Cat said again. "I
shall soon return."
"All the better," said Valentine; "but in the meanwhile, as I suppose
you have nothing more to say to us, I fancy it is time for you to rejoin
your friends, who must be growing impatient at your absence."
Black Cat gave a start of anger at this parting sarcasm; but repressing
the passion that inflamed him, he folded himself haughtily in his
buffalo robe, remounted the raft with his comrade, and they rapidly
retired from the island.