THE COMPACT.
Don Martial gazed at the hunter in amazement.
"What do you mean?" he asked him. "I don't understand you."
"You will soon do so, my friend," Valentine answered. "How long have you
been roaming about this neighbourhood?"
"Nearly two months."
"In that case you are well acquainted, I presume, with the mountains
among which we are at this moment?"
"There is not a tree or a rock whose exact position I cannot tell, nor a
wild beast trail which I have not followed."
"Good: are we far from a spot called the 'Fort of the Chichimèques?'"
The Tigrero reflected for a moment.
"Do you know by what Indians these mountains are inhabited?" he at
length asked.
"Yes, by poor wretches who call themselves the Root-Eaters, and whom the
hunters and trappers designate by the name of the 'Worthy of Pity.' They
are, I believe, timid, harmless creatures, a species of incomplete men,
in whom brutal instincts have stifled the intellect; however, I only
speak of them from hearsay, for I never saw one of the poor devils."
"You are perfectly well informed about them, and they are what you
depict them. I have often had opportunities of meeting them, and have
lamented the degree of brutalization into which this hapless race has
fallen."
"Permit me to remark that I do not see what connection can exist between
this unhappy tribe and the information I ask of you."
"There is a very great one. Since I have been roaming about these
mountains you are the first man of my own colour with whom I have
consented to enter into relations. The Root-Eaters have neither history
nor traditions. Their life is restricted to eating, drinking, and
sleeping, and I have not learned from them any of the names given to the
majestic peaks that surround us. Hence, though I perfectly well know the
spot to which you refer, unless you describe it differently, it will be
impossible for me to tell you its exact position."
"That is true; but what you ask of me is very awkward, for this is the
first time I have visited these parts, and it will be rather difficult
for me to describe a place I am not acquainted with. Still, I will try.
There is, not far from here, I believe, a road which traverses the Rocky
Mountains obliquely, and runs from the United States to Santa Fe; at a
certain spot this road must intersect another which leads to California."
"I am perfectly well acquainted with the roads to which you refer, and
the caravans of emigrants, hunters, and miners follow them in going to
California, or returning thence."
"Good! At the spot where these two roads cross they form a species
of large square, surrounded on all sides by rocks that rise to a
considerable height. Do you know the place I mean?"
"Yes," the Tigrero answered.
"Well, about two gunshots from this square is a track winding nearly in
an east-south-east course, along the side of the mountains. This track,
at first so narrow that a horse even passes with difficulty, gradually
widens till it reaches a species of esplanade, or terrace, if you like
it better, which commands an extensive prospect, while on its edge
are the remains of barbarous erections, which can, however, be easily
recognized as an ancient parapet. This terrace is called the 'Fort of
the Chichimèques,' though for what reason I cannot tell you."
"I know no more than you do on that head, although I can now assure
you that I am perfectly acquainted with the place to which you refer,
and have often camped there on stormy nights, because there is a deep
cavern, excavated by human hands, and divided into several passages,
every turning of which I know, and which has offered me a precious
shelter during those frightful tempests which, at intervals, overthrow
the face of nature in these regions."
"I was not aware of the existence of this grotto," the hunter said,
with a glad start, "and I thank you for having told me of it; it will
be very useful for the execution of the plans I have formed. Are we any
great distance from this terrace?"
"In a straight line, not more than five or six miles, and, if it were
day, I could show it to you; but as we must ride round to reach the
caravan road, which we are obliged to follow in order to reach the
tracks, we have about three hours' ride before us."
"That is a trifle, for I was afraid I had lost my way in these
mountains, which are strange to me. I am delighted to find that my old
experience has not failed me this time, and that my hunter's instincts
have not deceived me."
While saying this, Valentine had risen to explore the clearing. The
storm had ceased, the wind had swept away the clouds, the deep blue sky
was studded with brilliant stars, and the moon profusely shed its rays,
which imparted a fantastic appearance to the landscape by casting the
shadows of the lofty trees athwart the snow, whose pallid carpet spread
far as eye could see.
"'Tis a magnificent night," the hunter said, after carefully examining
the sky for some moments. "It is an hour past midnight, and I do not
feel the slightest inclination to sleep. Are you fatigued?"
"I am never so," the Tigrero answered, with a smile.
"All right: in that case you are like myself, a thorough wood ranger.
What do you think of a ride in this magnificent moonlight?"
"I think that after a good supper and an interesting conversation
nothing so thoroughly restores the balance of a man's thoughts as a
night ride in the company of a friend."
"Bravo! that is what I call speaking. Now, as every ride to be
reasonable should have an object, we will go, if you have no objection,
as far as the Fort of the Chichimèques."
"I was about to propose it; and, as we ride along, you will tell me in
your turn what imperious motive compelled you to come to these unknown
regions, and what the project is to which you alluded."
"As for that," the hunter said, with a knowing smile, "I cannot satisfy
you; at any rate not for the present, as I wish you to have the pleasure
of a surprise. But be easy, I will not put your patience to too long a
trial."
"You will act as you think proper, for I trust entirely to you. I know
not why, but I am persuaded, either through a sentiment or sympathy,
that in doing your own business you will be doing mine at the same time."
"You are nearer the truth at this moment than you perhaps imagine, so be
of good cheer, brother."
"The happy meeting has already made a different man of me," the Tigrero
said, as he rose.
The hunter laid his hand on his shoulder. "One moment," he said to
him; "before leaving this bivouac, where we met so providentially,
let us clearly agree as to our facts, so as to avoid any future
misunderstanding."
"Be it so," Don Martial answered. "Let us make a compact in the Indian
fashion, and woe to the one who breaks it."
"Well said, my friend," Valentine remarked, as he drew his knife from
his belt. "Here is my navaja, brother; may it serve you as it has done
me to avenge your wrongs and mine."
"I receive it in the face of that Heaven which I call as witness of the
purity of my intentions. Take mine in exchange, and one half my powder
and bullets, brother."
"I accept it as a thing belonging to me, and here is half my ammunition
for you; henceforth we cannot fire at one another, all is in common
between us. Your friends will be my friends, and you will point out your
enemies to me, so that I may aid you in your vengeance. My horse is
yours."
"Mine belongs to you, and in a few moments I will place it at your
service."
Then the two men, leaning shoulder to shoulder, with clasped hands, eyes
fixed on heaven, and outstretched arm, uttered together the following
words:
"I take God to witness that of my own free will, and without
reservation, I take as my friend and brother the man whose hand is at
this moment pressing mine. I will help him in everything he asks of
me, without hope of reward, ready by day and night to answer his first
signal, without hesitation, and without reproach, even if he asked me
for my life. I take this oath in the presence of God, who sees and
hears me and may He come to my help in all I undertake, and punish me
if I ever break my oath."
There was something grand and solemn in this simple act, performed by
these two powerful men, beneath the pallid moonbeams, and in the heart
of the desert, alone, far from all human society, face to face with
God, confiding in each, and seeming thus to defy the whole world. After
repeating the words of the oath, they kissed each other's lips in turn,
then embraced, and finally shook hands again.
"Now let us be off, brother," Valentine said; "I confide in you as in
myself; we shall succeed in triumphing over our enemies, and repaying
them all the misery they have caused us."
"Wait for me ten minutes, brother; my horse is hidden close by."
"Go; and during that time I will saddle mine, which is henceforth yours."
Don Martial hurried away, leaving Valentine alone.
"This time," he muttered, "I believe that I have at length met the man I
have been looking for so long, and whom I despaired to find; with him,
Curumilla, and Belhumeur, I can begin the struggle, for I am certain I
shall not be abandoned or treacherously surrendered to the enemy I wish
to combat."
While indulging after his wont in this soliloquy, the hunter had lassoed
his horse, and was busily engaged in saddling it. He had just put the
bit in its mouth, when the Tigrero re-entered the clearing, mounted on
a magnificent black steed.
Don Martial dismounted.
"This is your horse, my friend," he said.
"And this is yours."
The exchange thus effected, the two men mounted, and left the clearing
in which they had met so strangely. The Tigrero had told no falsehood
when he said that a metamorphosis had taken place in him, and that
he felt a different man. His features had lost their marble-like
rigidity; his eyes were animated, and no longer burned with a sombre and
concentrated fire. Even though his glances were still somewhat haggard,
their expression was more frank and, before all, kinder; he sat firm and
upright in the saddle, and, in a word, seemed ten years younger.
This unexpected change had not escaped the notice of the all-observing
Frenchman, and he congratulated himself for having effected this moral
cure, and saved a man of such promise from the despair which he had
allowed to overpower him.
We have already said that it was a magnificent night. For men like
our characters, accustomed to cross the desert in all weathers, the
ride in the darkness was a relaxation rather than a fatigue. They rode
along side by side, talking on indifferent topics--hunting, trapping,
expeditions against the Indians--subjects always pleasing to wood
rangers, while rapidly advancing towards the spot they wished to reach.
"By-the-bye," Valentine all at once said, "I must warn you, brother,
that if you are not mistaken, and we are really following the road to
the Fort of the Chichimèques, we shall probably meet several persons
there; they are friends of mine, with whom I have an appointment, and I
will introduce them to you; for reasons you will speedily learn, these
friends followed a different road from mine, and must have been waiting
for some time at the place of meeting."
"I do not care who the persons are we meet, as they are friends of
yours," the Tigrero answered; "the main point is that we make no
mistake."
"On my word, I confess my incompetence, so far as that is concerned;
this is the first time I have ventured into the Rocky Mountains, where
I hope never to come again, and so I deliver myself entirely into your
hands."
"I will do my best, although I do not promise positively to lead you to
the place you want to reach."
"Nonsense!" the hunter said with a smile; "two places like the one I
have described to you can hardly be found in these parts, picturesque
and diversified though they be, and it would be almost impossible to
lose our way."
"At any rate," the Tigrero answered, "we shall soon know what we have to
depend on, for we shall be there within half an hour."
The sky was beginning to grow paler; the horizon was belted by wide,
pellucid bands, which assumed in turn every colour of the rainbow. In
the flashing uncertain light of dawn, objects were invested with a
more fugitive appearance, although, on the other hand, they became more
distinct.
The adventurers had passed the crossroads, and turned into a narrow
track, whose capricious windings ran along rocks, which were almost
suspended over frightful abysses. The riders had given up all attempts
to guide their horses, and trusted to their instinct; they had laid
their bridles on their necks, leaving them at liberty to go where they
pleased--a prudent precaution, which cannot be sufficiently recommended
to travellers under similar circumstances.
All at once a streak of light illumined the landscape, and the sun rose
radiant and splendid; behind them the travellers still had the shadows
of night, while before them the snowy peaks of the mountains--were
glistening in the sun.
"Well," the hunter exclaimed, "we can now see clearly, and I hope that
we shall soon perceive the Fort of the Chichimèques."
"Look ahead of you over the jagged crest of that hill," the Tigrero
answered, stretching out his arm; "that is the terrace to which I am
leading you."
The hunter stopped, for he felt giddy, and almost ready to fall off his
horse. About two miles from him, but separated from the spot where he
stood by an impassable canyon, an immense esplanade stretched out into
space in the shape of a _voladero_; that is to say, in consequence of
one of those earthquakes so common in these regions, the base of the
mountain had been undermined, while the crest remained intact, and hung
for a considerable distance above a valley, apparently about to fall at
any moment; the spectacle was at once imposing and terrific.
"Heaven forgive me!" the hunter muttered, "but I really believe I was
frightened; I felt all my muscles tremble involuntarily. Oh! I will not
look at it again; let us get along, my friend."
They set out again, still following the windings of the tract, which
gradually grew steeper; and, after a very zigzag course, reached the
terrace half an hour later.
"This is certainly the place," the hunter exclaimed, as he pointed to
the decaying embers of a watch fire.
"But your friends--?" the Tigrero asked.
"Did you not tell me there was a grotto close by?"
"I did."
"Well, they doubtless concealed themselves in the grotto when they heard
us approaching."
"That is possible."
"It is true: look."
The hunter discharged his gun, and at the sound three men appeared,
though it was impossible to say whence they came. They were Belhumeur,
Black Elk, and Eagle-head.