I had just made these observations as the Mexican clambered up the rock,
and took stand by my side.
"_Hijo de Dios_!" exclaimed he, as his eyes fell upon the cross, "_la
crucifixion_! What a conception for savages! _Mira_!" he continued, as
another white cloud puffed out from behind the sloping side of the
mound, and the report of a musket came booming up the valley,
"_Santissima_! they are firing at the unfortunate!"
"Yes," said I; "they are playing with one of my comrades, as they did
yesterday with myself."
"Ah, _mio amigo_! that is an old game of the Arapahoes. They used to
practise it with their arrows, and for mere sport. Now that they have
taken to guns, I suppose they combine instruction with amusement, as the
books say. _Carrambo_! what cruel brutes they are! They have no more
humanity than a grizzly bear. God help the poor wretch that falls into
their clutches! Their captive women they treat with a barbarity unknown
among other tribes. Even beauty, that would soften a savage of any
other sort, is not regarded by these brutal Arapahoes. Only think of
it! They were about to treat in this very fashion the beautiful
_Americana_--the only difference being that they had strapped her to a
tree instead of a crucifix. _Carrai-i_!"
"The beautiful Americana?"
"_Yes_--she who brought you to the camp."
"What! She in the hands of the Arapahoes?"
"_Sin duda_; it was from them she was taken."
"When, and where? How, and by whom?"
"_Hola! hombre_--four questions at once! _Muy bien_! I can answer
them, if you give me time. To the first, I should say about six months
ago. To the second, near the Big Timbers, on the Arkansas. My reply to
the third will require more words; and before giving it, I shall answer
the fourth by saying that the girl was taken from the Rapahoes by Don
Jose."
"Don Jose--who is Don Jose?"
"Oh! perhaps you would know him by his American name--Oaquer?"
"Walker, the celebrated trapper? Joe Walker?"
"The same, _amigo_. Oaquara, the Utahs pronounce it. As you perceive,
their young chief is named so, and after him. The trapper and he were
sworn friends--brothers--or more like father and son: since Don Jose was
much the older."
"_Were_ friends. Are they not so still?"
"_Valga me dios_! No. That is no longer possible. Don Jose has gone
under--was rubbed out more than three months ago, and by these very
Rapahoes! That is why your fair _conpaisana_ is now with the Utahs.
The old trapper left her to his namesake Oaquara--under whose protection
she has been ever since."
"He has been true to his trust? He _has_ protected her?" Under the
influence of singular emotions did these questions escape me.
"_Seguramente, amigo_!" replied the Mexican, with an ingenuousness
calculated to allay my unpleasant fancies, "the Utah chief is a noble
fellow--_un hombre de bien_--besides, he would have done anything for
his old friend--whose death greatly grieved him. That is just why you
see him here in such haste. It was not to avenge your wrongs that they
danced their war-measure--but the death of Don Jose. All the same to
you, however: since your _companeros_ are likely to have the advantage
of it. As for the Americana," continued he, before I had time to make
rejoinder, "_Virgen santissima_! such a maiden was never seen in these
parts. Such a shot! Not a marksman in the mountains could match with
her, except Don Jose himself, who taught her; and as for hunting--_la
linda cazadora_! she can steal upon the game like a couguar. Ah! she
can protect herself. She _has_ done so. But for her spirit and rifle,
the Red-Hand would have ruined her."
"But how? you have not told me--"
"True, _cavallero_! I have yet to answer number three. _Bueno_! As I
said, it was near the Big Timbers, where she got into the hands of the
Arapahoes. There was only a small band of the robbers, with Red-Hand at
their head. He wanted to play the brute with her. She kept him off
with her rifle, and a big dog you have seen. Red-Hand became angry, and
had her strapped to a tree--where the monsters threatened to shoot their
arrows into her body. Whether they intended to kill her, or only to
terrify the poor girl, is not known; but if the former was their design,
they were hindered from putting it into execution. Just at that moment,
Don Jose came upon the ground with a party of trappers from the
rendezvous on Cuerno Verde. They were strong enough to beat off the
red-skinned ravishers and save the Americana. That is how she was taken
from the Rapahoes."
"A brave deed! But how did she chance to be there? Since Bent's Port
was abandoned, there is no white settlement near the Big Timbers."
"Ah! _senor_! that is the strangest part of the whole story. It was
told me by Don Jose himself, while we were _companeros_ on a trapping
expedition--just after he had saved the girl. _Carrambo_!--a strange
tale!"
"Have you any objection to tell it to me? I feel a singular interest in
this young girl."
"_Sin duda_! Of many a mountain-man, the same might be said; and many
an Indian too. Hum! _cavallero_! you would not be flesh and blood, if
you didn't."
"Not _that_, I assure you. My interest in her springs from a different
source. I have other reasons for inquiring into her history."
"You shall have it, then, _cavallero_--at least so much as I know of it
myself: for it is reasonable to suppose that Don Jose did not tell me
all he knew. This much: the _nina_ was with a caravan that had come
from one of your western states. It was a caravan of Mormons. You have
heard of the Mormons, I suppose--those _hereticos_ who have made
settlements here beyond?"
"I have."
"Well--one of these Mormons was the husband of the girl, or rather
_ought_ to have been--since they were married just at starting. It
appears that the young woman was against the marriage--for she loved
some one more to her choice--but her father had forced her to it; and
some quarrel happening just at the time with the favourite lover, she
had consented--from pique, _sin duda_--to accept the Mormon."
"She did accept him?"
"Yes--but now comes the strange part of the story. All I have told you
is but a common tale, and the like occurs every day in the year."
"Go on!"
"When she married the Mormon, she did not know he _was_ a Mormon; and it
appears that these _hereticos_ have a name among your people worse than
the very _Judios_. It was only after the caravan had got out into the
plains, that the girl made this discovery. Another circumstance equally
unpleasant soon came to her knowledge; and that was: that the man who
pretended to be her husband was after all no husband--that he did not
act to her as a husband should do--in short, that the marriage had been
a sham--the ceremony having been performed by some Mormon brother, in
the disguise of a _clerico_!"
"Was the girl's father aware of this deception!"
"Don Jose could not tell. He may have known that the man was a Mormon;
but Don Jose was of opinion that the father himself was betrayed by the
false marriage--though he was present at it, and actually bestowed the
bride!"
"Strange!"
"Perhaps, _cavallero_! the strangest is yet to come. For what purpose,
do you suppose, was this deception practised upon the poor girl?"
"I cannot guess--go on!"
"_Carrai_! it was a hellish purpose; but you shall hear it. These
Mormons have at their head a great chief priest--_una propheta_, as they
call him. He is a polygamist--a perfect Turco--and keeps a harem of
beautiful _ninas_, who pass under the name of `spiritual wives.' It was
only after the young Americana had got far out upon the plains--indeed,
to the Big Timbers, where she escaped from him--that she found out the
terrible fate for which her false husband had designed her. She learnt
it from the other women who accompanied the caravan; and who, base
wretches that they were! rather envied her the _honour_ by which she was
to be distinguished! _Por Dios_! a terrible fate for a young creature
innocent and virtuous like her!"
"Her fate? Quick--tell me! for what had the villain destined her?"
"_Virgen Santa_! for the harem of the Mormon prophet!"
"_Mira_!" exclaimed the Mexican, almost in the same breath--"_Mira_! the
signal-smoke of Wa-ka-ra! To horse! to horse! _mueran los Arapahoes_!"
It was not the signal that called from my lips a convulsive exclamation.
It was wrung from my agony, ere the smoke had been descried. It was
drowned amidst the shouts of the savage warriors, as they crowded
forward out of the chasm. Leaping down from the ledge, and flinging
myself on the back of my horse, I mingled in the melee.
As we swept from the gorge, I cast a glance behind. The sound of female
voices caused me to look back. The Utah women, mounted on mules and
horses, were coming down the canon, with the white huntress at their
head! I wished a word with _her_; but it was too late. I dared neither
pause nor go back. My Utah allies would have branded me as a coward--a
traitor to my own cause! I did not hesitate a moment; but, joining in
the "Ugh-aloo," I dashed into the midst of the dusky host, and galloped
onward to the charge.