NÔ EUSEBIO.
The precautions taken by Eagle Head to conceal his march were good as
regarded the whites, whose senses, less kept upon the watch than those
of partisans and hunters, and little acquainted with Indian stratagems,
are almost incapable of directing their course in these vast solitudes
without a compass; but for men like Loyal Heart and Belhumeur they were,
in every respect, insufficient.
The two bold partisans did not lose the track for an instant.
Accustomed to the zig-zags and devices of the Indian warriors, they did
not allow themselves to be deceived by the sudden turns, the counter
marches, the false halts, in a word, by any of the obstacles which the
Comanches had planted so freely on their route.
And then, there was one thing of which the Indians had not dreamed, and
which revealed as clearly the direction of their march as if they had
taken the pains to mark it with stakes.
We have said that the hunters had, close to the ruins of a cabin, found
a bloodhound fastened to a tree, and that this bloodhound, when set
free, after bestowing a few caresses on Belhumeur, had set off; his
nose to the wind, to rejoin his master, who was no other than the old
Spaniard--in fact, he did rejoin him.
The traces of the bloodhound, which the Indians never dreamed of
effacing, for the very simple reason that they did not observe that he
was with them, were to be seen all along, and for hunters so skilful as
Loyal Heart and Belhumeur, this was an Ariadne's thread which nothing
could break.
The hunters therefore rode tranquilly on with their guns across
the saddle and accompanied by their rastreros, in the track of the
Comanches, who were far from suspecting that they had such a rearguard.
Every evening Loyal Heart stopped at the precise place where Eagle
Head had, on the previous day, established his camp, for such was the
diligence of the two men that the Indians only preceded them by a few
leagues; the trappers could easily have passed them, if it had been
their wish to do so; but, for certain reasons, Loyal Heart confined
himself to following them for some time longer.
After having passed the night in a quiet glade, on the banks of a clear
rivulet, whose soft murmur had lulled them to sleep, the hunters were
preparing to resume their journey, their horses were saddled, they were
eating a slice of elk, standing, like people in a hurry to depart, when
Loyal Heart, who, during the whole morning had not spoken a word, turned
towards his companion, and said:
"Let us sit down a minute, there is no occasion to hurry, since Eagle
Head has rejoined his tribe."
"Be it so," replied Belhumeur, laying himself down upon the grass. "We
can talk a bit."
"I cannot think how it was I did not imagine these cursed Comanches had
a war detachment in the neighbourhood! It is impossible for us two to
think of taking a camp in which there are five hundred warriors."
"That's true," said Belhumeur, philosophically; "they are a great many,
and yet, you know, my dear friend, that if your heart bids you, we can
but try; who knows what may happen?"
"Thanks!" said Loyal Heart, smiling; "but I think it useless."
"As you like."
"Stratagem alone can assist us."
"Let us try stratagem, then; I am at your orders."
"We have some traps near here, I believe?"
"Pardieu!" said the Canadian, "within half a mile, at most, there is a
large pond of beavers."
"That's true; for the last few days, Belhumeur, I scarcely know what
I am thinking about; this captivity of my mother makes me mad; I must
deliver her, cost what it may."
"That is my opinion, Loyal Heart, and I will aid you in it with all my
soul."
"Tomorrow morning, at daybreak, you will repair to Black Elk, and beg
him, in my name, to collect as many white hunters and trappers as he
can."
"Very well."
"In the meantime I will go to the camp of the Comanches, to treat for
the ransom of my mother; if they will not restore her to me, we will
have recourse to arms, and we will see if a score of the best rifles
of the frontiers will not give a good account of five hundred of these
plunderers of the prairies."
"And if they should make you prisoner?"
"In that case I will send you my bloodhound, who will come to you in the
river grotto; on seeing it come alone, you will know what that means,
and will act accordingly."
The Canadian shook his head.
"No," said he, "I shall not do so."
"What! you will not do so?" the hunter exclaimed, in great surprise.
"Certainly no, I will not do so, Loyal Heart. Compared with you, who
are so brave and so intelligent, I am but little worth, I know; but if
I have only one good quality, nothing can deprive me of it, and that
quality is my devotedness to you."
"I know it, my friend; you love me like a brother."
"And you would have me leave you, as they say in my country beyond the
great lakes, to go cheerfully into the jaws of the wolf; and yet my
comparison is humiliating for the wolf, for the Indians are a thousand
times more ferocious! No, I repeat, I will not do that; it would be a
wicked action, and if any harm happened to you, I should never forgive
myself."
"Explain yourself, Belhumeur," said Loyal Heart, with a little
impatience; "upon my honour I cannot possibly understand you."
"Oh! that will be easy enough," the Canadian answered; "if I am not
very clever, and am not an able speaker, I have good common sense, and
can see my way clearly when those I love are concerned; and I love
nobody better than you, now my poor father is dead."
"Speak then, my friend," said Loyal Heart, "and pardon the little
ill-humour I could not repress."
Belhumeur reflected for a few seconds, and then continued:--
"You know," he said, "that the greatest enemies we have in the prairies
are the Comanches; by an inexplicable fatality, whenever we have had
a struggle to maintain, it has been against them, and never have they
been able to boast of the smallest advantage over us; hence has arisen
between them and us an implacable hatred, a hatred which has latterly
been increased by our quarrel with Eagle Head, whose arm you had the
good chance, or rather the ill chance, of breaking, when it would
have been so easy for you to have broken his head; a joke which I am
convinced the chief has taken in very bad part, and will never forgive
you. Besides, I must confess that in his place I should entertain
exactly the same sentiments; I bear him no malice on that account."
"To the purpose! to the purpose!" Loyal Heart interrupted.
"The purpose! Well, this is it," Belhumeur replied, displaying no
surprise at his friend's interruption: "Eagle Head is anxious, by any
means, to obtain your scalp, and it is evident that if you commit
the imprudence of placing yourself in his hands, he will not let the
opportunity slip of finally settling his accounts with you."
"But," Loyal Heart replied, "my mother is in his power."
"Yes," said Belhumeur; "but he does not know who she is. You are aware,
my friend, that the Indians only treat captured women ill in exceptional
cases; generally they behave to them with the greatest respect."
"That is true," said the hunter.
"Therefore, as no one will go and tell Eagle Head that his prisoner is
your mother, unless she does so herself, through the uneasiness she
may feel on your account, she is as safe among the redskins as if she
were on the great square of Quebec. It is useless, then, to commit an
imprudence. Let us get together a score of good fellows; I don't ask for
more; and let us watch the Indians. On the first opportunity that offers
we will fall upon them vigorously, we will kill as many as we can, and
deliver your mother. Now that, I think, is the wisest course we can
take; what do you think of it?"
"I think, my friend," Loyal Heart replied, pressing his hand, "that you
are the best creature in existence; that your advice is good, and I will
follow it."
"Bravo!" Belhumeur exclaimed, joyfully; "that is speaking something
like."
"And now----" said Loyal Heart, rising.
"Now?" Belhumeur asked.
"We will get on horseback; we will carefully avoid the Indian camp,
using all possible caution not to be tracked; and will then go to the
hatto of our brave companion Black Elk, who is a man of good counsel,
and who will certainly be useful to us in what we purpose doing."
"Be it so, then," said Belhumeur cheerfully, leaping into his saddle.
The hunters quitted the glade they had slept in, and making a _détour_
to avoid the Indian camp, the smoke of which they perceived within a
league of them, they directed their course towards the spot where, in
all probability, Black Elk was philosophically employed in laying snares
for beavers, the interesting animals that Doña Luz had admired so much.
They had been thus riding on for nearly an hour, chatting and laughing,
for the reasonings of Belhumeur had succeeded in convincing Loyal Heart,
who, thoroughly knowing the manners of the Indians, was persuaded that
his mother was in no danger, when his hounds on a sudden showed signs of
excitement, and rushed forward, yelping with symptoms of joy.
"What's the matter with our rastreros?" said Loyal Heart; "one would
think they smelt a friend."
"Pardieu! they have scented Black Elk, and we shall probably see them
come back together."
"That is not unlikely," the hunter said pensively; and they continued
their course.
At the expiration of a few minutes they perceived a horseman riding
towards them at full speed, surrounded by the dogs, who ran barking by
his side.
"It is not Black Elk," Belhumeur cried.
"No," said Loyal Heart, "it is Nô Eusebio; what can this mean? He is
alone; can anything have happened to my mother?"
"Let us mend our pace," said Belhumeur, clapping spurs to his horse,
which sprang forward with the greatest velocity.
The hunter followed him, a prey to mortal alarm.
The three horsemen were soon together.
"Woe! woe!" the old man cried, in great agitation, as he approached.
"What is the matter, Nô Eusebio? speak, in the name of Heaven."
"Your mother, Don Rafaël! your mother!"
"Well, speak!--oh, speak!" the young man cried frantically.
"Oh, my God!" said the old man, wringing his hands, "it is too late!"
"Speak, then, in the name of Heaven!--you are killing me."
The old man cast on him a look of utter desolation.
"Don Rafaël," he said, "have courage!--be a man!"
"My God! my God! what fearful news are you going to communicate to me,
my friend?"
"Your mother is a prisoner to Eagle Head."
"I know she is."
"If this very day, this morning even, you do not deliver yourself up to
the chief of the Comanches--"
"Well, well!"
"She will be burnt alive."
"Ah!" the young man exclaimed, with a cry amounting to a shriek.
His friend supported him, otherwise he would have fallen from his saddle.
"But," Belhumeur asked, "is it today--do you say, old man, that she is
to be burnt?"
"Yes."
"Is there still time, then?"
"Alas! it was to be at sunrise; and see," he said, with an agonized
gesture, pointing to the heavens.
"Oh!" Loyal Heart cried, with a vehemence impossible to be described, "I
will save my mother!"
And, bending over the neck of his horse, he set off with frantic
rapidity.
The others followed.
He turned round towards Belhumeur.
"Where are you going?" he asked, in a short, sharp tone.
"To help you save your mother, or to die with you."
"Come on, then!" Loyal Heart replied, plunging his spurs into the
bleeding sides of his horse.
There was something fearful and terrible in the desperate course of
these three men who, formed in line, with pale brows, compressed lips,
and fiery looks, cleared torrents and ravines, surmounted all obstacles,
incessantly urging their horses, which seemed to devour space, while
panting painfully, bounding madly, and dripping with perspiration and
blood.
At intervals Loyal Heart shouted one of those cries peculiar to the
Mexican jinetes, and the reanimated horses redoubled their exertions.
"My God! my God! save--save my mother!" the hunter kept repeating in a
hollow voice, as he rode furiously onward.