SUNBEAM.
The situation of the fugitives was most critical, as the Indians had
stated; the number of their warriors hourly increased, and on both sides
of the island there were large encampments, indicated by numerous fires.
The day passed in this way, and there was no attack. No incident even
disturbed the tranquillity of the robbers till about the middle of the
following night. At this moment the darkness was thick, and not a star
glistened in the sky; the moon, obscured by clouds, only displayed her
pallid disc at intervals.
One of those intense fogs which frequently prevail at this season on the
Rio Gila, had fallen, and ended by confusing all objects; the banks of
the river had disappeared from sight, and even the Indian campfires were
no longer visible. The hunters, seated in a circle, maintained the
deepest silence; each was yielding to the flood of bitter thoughts that
rose from his heart. All at once, amid the silence of the night, a
confused and indistinct sound was audible, like that of a paddle
striking the side of a canoe.
"Hilloh! what's the meaning of this?" Valentine said. "Can the Apaches
be dreaming of surprising us?"
"Let us have a look, at any rate," Don Pablo remarked.
The five men rose, and glided silently through the bushes, in the
direction of the sound which had aroused them. After proceeding a
certain distance, Valentine stopped to listen.
"I am certain I was not mistaken," he said to himself; "it was the sound
produced by a paddle falling in a canoe that I heard. Who can have come
to visit us? Perhaps it is some Indian deviltry."
And the hunter sounded the darkness around him with his piercing and
unerring eye. All at once, he fancied he saw an object moving in the
fog. He went on; then after carefully examining this person, who grew
every moment more and more distinct, he drew himself up, and leant on
his rifle.
"What the deuce do you want here at this hour, Sunbeam, my dear child?"
he asked in a low voice.
The young Indian squaw, for it was really she whom the hunter had
addressed, laid a finger on her lip as if recommending prudence.
"Follow me, Koutonepi," she said to him so softly that her voice
resembled a sigh.
After going a few yards, the girl stooped, and made the hunter a sign to
follow her example.
"Look," she said, pointing to one of those long and light canoes which
the Indians hollow out of enormous trees, and which carry ten persons
with ease. "Look."
Valentine, in spite of his self-command, had difficulty in suppressing a
cry of joy. He held out his hand, saying with considerable emotion:
"My brave girl!"
"Sunbeam remembers," the Indian girl replied with a smile, "that
Koutonepi saved her; the heart of the white lady is kind, Sunbeam wishes
to save them all."
The first moment of emotion past, the hunter, who was thoroughly
acquainted with the cunning and roguery of the redskins, bent a
scrutinising gaze on the girl. The Indian's face had an expression of
honesty which commanded confidence, and Valentine entered the canoe.
It contained paddles, provisions, and, what caused him more pleasure
than all else, six large buffalo horns, full of gunpowder, and two bags
of bullets.
"Good!" he said, "my daughter is grateful, Wacondah will protect her."
Sunbeam's face expanded at these words.
At this moment Don Pablo and the other hunters rejoined Valentine, and
learned with delight what had happened; the sight of the canoe restored
them all their energy. Shaw remained on guard, while Valentine,
accompanied by the others, and Sunbeam, returned to Doña Clara, whom
anxiety had aroused.
"Here is a new friend I present to you," the hunter said, pointing to
the young Indian, who stood timidly behind him.
"Oh! I know her," Doña Clara replied, as she embraced the girl, who was
quite confused by these caresses.
"But tell me, Sunbeam," Valentine said, after the expiration of a
moment, "how comes it that you arrived here?"
The Indian girl smiled haughtily.
"Unicorn is a great warrior," she answered; "he has the glance of the
eagle, he knows all that happens in the prairie; he saw the danger his
brother, the great paleface hunter, ran, and his heart trembled with
sadness."
"Yes," Valentine said, "the chief loves me."
The Indian continued.
"Unicorn sought a mode of coming to his brother's assistance; he was
wandering along the riverbank when the fog supplied him with the means
he so greatly desired; he placed Sunbeam in a canoe, ordered her to
come, and she came with joy, laughing at the Apache dogs, whose mole
eyes could not perceive her, when she passed in front of them."
"Yes, it must be so," Valentine said, "but why did not the chief come
himself with his warriors, instead of sending you?"
"Unicorn is a sachem," the squaw answered, "he is wise and prudent as he
is brave. The warriors had remained in the village; the chief was alone
with Sunbeam."
"May heaven grant that your words be sincere, and that we may not have
cause to repent having placed confidence in you," Don Pablo said.
"Sunbeam is a Comanche woman," the Indian replied haughtily; "her heart
is red, and her tongue is not forked."
"I answer for her," Doña Clara said, impetuously; "she would not deceive
us."
"I believe it," Valentine said; "but, at any rate, we shall see. There
is some honour among the redskins; besides, we shall be prudent. Now, I
presume that, like myself, you are all anxious to quit this island? My
advice is, that we should at once take advantage of the canoe this young
woman has brought us."
"It is true, then," Doña Clara said joyfully, as she sprang up.
"Yes," Valentine answered, "a magnificent canoe, in which we shall be
perfectly at our ease; and, better still, it is capitally found in food
and ammunition. Still, I think we should not do wrong by taking
advantage of the fog to escape, without giving the Indians a chance of
seeing us."
"Be it so," Don Pablo said; "but once on firm ground, what road shall we
follow, as we have no horses? Come, Sunbeam, can you give us any advice
on that head?"
"Listen," the young squaw said; "the Apaches are preparing for a great
expedition. They have called under arms all their brethren; and more
than three thousand warriors are traversing the prairie in every
direction at this moment. Their war parties hold all the paths. Two
nations alone would not respond to the invitation of the Apaches: they
are the Comanches and the Navajos. The villages of my tribe are not far
off, and I can try to lead you to them."
"Very good," Don Pablo answered. "From what you tell us, the riverbanks
are guarded. Going up the Gila in a canoe is impossible, because within
two hours we should be inevitably scalped. I am therefore of opinion
that we should proceed by the shortest road to the nearest Comanche or
Navajo village. But, to do that, we require horses, for we must let no
grass grow under our feet."
"Only one road is open," Sunbeam said, firmly.
"Which?" Don Pablo asked.
"The one that crosses the Apache camp."
"Hum!" Valentine muttered, "That seems to me very dangerous. We are
only seven, and two of them are women."
"That is true," Eagle-wing remarked, who had hitherto been silent; "but
it is, at the same time, the road which offers the best chances of
success."
"Let us hear your plan, then," Valentine asked.
"The Apaches," the sachem went on, "are numerous; they believe us
crushed and demoralised by the critical position in which we are. They
will never suppose that five men will have the audacity to enter their
camp; and their security is our strength."
"Yes, but horses! Horses!" the hunter objected.
"The Wacondah will provide them," the chief replied. "He never abandons
brave men, who place their confidence in him."
"Well, let us trust in Heaven!" Valentine said.
"I believe," said Doña Clara, who had listened to the conversation with
deep attention, "that the advice of our friend, the Indian warrior, is
good, and we ought to follow it."
Eagle-wing bowed, while a smile of satisfaction played over his face.
"Let it be as you desire," the hunter said, turning to the young Mexican
girl, "we will start without further delay."
The cry of the jay was heard twice.
"Hilloh!" the hunter went on, "What is going on now? That is Shaw's
signal."
Everybody seized his weapon, and proceeded at full speed in the
direction whence the signal came; Doña Clara and Sunbeam remaining
behind, concealed in a thicket.
Though unable to guess the motive which had caused Sunbeam to act in the
way she had done, Doña Clara had however, understood at the first word,
with that intuition which women possess, that Sunbeam was to be
trusted--that in the present case she was acting under the impression of
a good thought, and was entirely devoted to them for some reason or
another. Hence she bestowed the most affectionate caresses on her.
Knowing, besides, the desire for rapine and the avarice which are the
foundation of the redskin character generally, she took off a gold
bracelet she wore on her right arm, and fastened it on the Indian's,
whose joy and happiness were raised to their acme by this pretty
present.
Seduced by this unexpected munificence, although already devoted to
Valentine by the services he had rendered her, she attached herself
unreservedly to Doña Clara.
"The pale virgin need not feel alarmed," she said in her soft and
musical voice; "she is my sister. I will save her, with the warriors who
accompany her."
"Thanks," Doña Clara answered, "my sister is good; she is the wife of a
great chief; I shall ever be her friend. So soon as I have rejoined my
father, I will make her presents far more valuable than this."
The young Indian clapped her dainty little hands, in sign of joy.
"What is the matter there?" Valentine asked, on reaching Shaw, who,
lying on the ground with his rifle thrust forward, seemed trying to
pierce the darkness.
"On my honour, I do not know," the latter replied simply, "but it seems
as if something extraordinary were going on around us. I see shadows
moving about the river, but can distinguish nothing, owing to the fog; I
hear dull sounds, and plashing in the water, and I fancy that the
Indians are going to attack us."
"Yes," Valentine muttered, as if speaking to himself, "these are their
favourite tactics. They like to surprise their enemies, so let us look
out for the canoe."
At this instant, a black mass pierced the fog, advancing slowly and
noiselessly up to the island.
"Here they are," Valentine said, in a low voice. "Attention! Do not let
them land."
The hunters hid themselves behind the shrubs. Valentine was not
mistaken: it was a raft loaded with Indian warriors coming up. So soon
as the Apaches were only a few yards from the island, five shots were
fired simultaneously, which spread death and disorder among them.
The Apaches believed they should surprise their enemies asleep, and were
far from expecting so rough a reception. Seeing their plans foiled, and
that the enemy were ready for action, there was a momentary hesitation;
still, shame gained the victory over prudence, and they continued to
advance.
This raft was the vanguard of some dozen others, still hidden in the
fog, awaiting the result of the reconnoissance made by the first. If the
hunters were awake, they had orders to return without attacking them,
which they obeyed. The first raft had the same instructions, but it had
either got into a current which urged it on, or, as was more probable,
the Indians wished to avenge their comrades, and they consequently
advanced.
This time the word of command was given by Valentine, and the Apaches
landed without being disturbed. They all rushed forward brandishing
their clubs, and uttering their war yell, but were received with clubbed
rifles, felled or drowned, ere they had scarce time to walk a couple of
paces on land.
"Now," Valentine said coldly, "we shall be quiet the whole night. I know
the Indians, they will not recommence the attack. Don Pablo, be so good
as to warn Doña Clara: Shaw and the Coras warrior will get the canoe
ready, and, if you think proper, we will start at once."
Curumilla had already prepared to pull the canoe into a more suitable
spot for embarking than the mass of tall grass and shrubs in which it
was concealed, but, as he was about to leap into it, he fancied he saw
that it was sensibly moving from the bank.
Curumilla, much surprised, stepped into the river, in order to discover
the cause of this unusual movement. The canoe was moving further and
further, and was already three or four yards from the bank. Completely
liberated from the reeds, it was cutting the current at right angles,
with a continuous and regular movement, which proved that it was obeying
some secret and intelligent influence.
Curumilla, more and more surprised, but determined to know the truth,
proceeded silently to the bow of the boat, and then all was explained.
An end of rope, intended to tie up the canoe and prevent it from
drifting, was hanging over; an Apache was holding this end between his
teeth, and swimming vigorously in the direction of the camp, dragging
the canoe with him.
"My brother is fatigued," Curumilla said, ironically; "he must let me in
my turn direct the canoe."
"Ouchi!" the Indian exclaimed, in his alarm; and, letting loose the
rope, he dived. Curumilla dived upon him. For some minutes the river was
agitated by a submarine shock, and then the two men reappeared on the
surface. Curumilla held the Apache tightly by the throat.
He then drew his knife, buried it twice in the Indian's heart and lifted
his scalp, and letting go of the corpse, which floated swiftly on the
river, he leaped into the canoe, which during the short struggle had
continued to drift, and brought it back to the isle.
"Hilloh!" Valentine said, laughing; "Where on earth do you come from,
chief? I thought you were lost." Without uttering a syllable, Curumilla
showed him the bloody scalp hanging from his girdle.
"Good," said Valentine; "I comprehend; my brother is a great warrior,
nothing escapes him."
The Araucano smiled proudly. The little party had collected; the
embarkation took place at once, and the men, each seizing a paddle,
began crossing the river slowly and silently, thanks to Curumilla's
precaution of muffling the paddles with leaves.
The hearts of these men, brave as they were, palpitated with fear, for
they did not yet dare believe in the success of their daring project.