CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
THE PROGRAMME.
Shortly after, I was wandering out to the caballada to look after myhorse, when the sound of a bugle fell upon my ear. It was the signalfor the men to assemble, and I turned back towards the camp.
As I re-entered it, Seguin was standing near his tent, with the buglestill in his hand. The hunters were gathering around him.
They were soon all assembled, and stood in groups, waiting for the chiefto speak.
"Comrades!" said Seguin, "to-morrow we break up this camp for anexpedition against the enemy. I have brought you together that you mayknow my plans and lend me your advice."
A murmur of applause followed this announcement. The breaking up of acamp is always joyous news to men whose trade is war. It seemed to havea like effect upon this motley group of guerilleros.
The chief continued--
"It is not likely that you will have much fighting. Our dangers will bethose of the desert; but we will endeavour to provide against them inthe best manner possible.
"I have learned, from a reliable source, that our enemies are at thisvery time about starting upon a grand expedition to plunder the towns ofSonora and Chihuahua.
"It is their intention, if not met by the Government troops, to extendtheir foray to Durango itself. Both tribes have combined in thismovement; and it is believed that all the warriors will proceedsouthward, leaving their country unprotected behind them.
"It is my intention then, as soon as I can ascertain that they have goneout, to enter their territory, and pierce to the main town of theNavajoes."
"Bravo!" "Hooray!" "Bueno!" "Tres bien!" "Good as wheat!" andnumerous other exclamations, hailed this declaration.
"Some of you know my object in making this expedition. Others do not.I will declare it to you all. It is, then, to--"
"Git a grist of scalps; what else?" cried a rough, brutal-lookingfellow, interrupting the chief.
"No, Kirker!" replied Seguin, bending his eye upon the man, with anexpression of anger. "It is not that. We expect to meet only women.On his peril let no man touch a hair upon the head of an Indian woman.I shall pay for no scalps of women or children."
"Where, then, will be your profits? We cannot bring them prisoners?We'll have enough to do to get back ourselves, I reckon, across themdeserts."
These questions seemed to express the feelings of others of the band,who muttered their assent.
"You shall lose nothing. Whatever prisoners you take shall be countedon the ground, and every man shall be paid according to his number.When we return I will make that good."
"Oh! that's fair enough, captain," cried several voices.
"Let it be understood, then, no women nor children. The plunder youshall have, it is yours by our laws, but no blood that can be spared.There is enough on our hands already. Do you all bind yourselves tothis?"
"Yes, yes!" "Si!" "Oui, oui!" "Ya, ya!" "All!" "Todos, todos!"cried a multitude of voices, each man answering in his own language.
"Let those who do not agree to it speak."
A profound silence followed this proposal. All had bound themselves tothe wishes of their leader.
"I am glad that you are unanimous. I will now state my purpose fully.It is but just you should know it."
"Ay, let us know that," muttered Kirker, "if tain't to raise har we'regoin'."
"We go, then, to seek for our friends and relatives, who for years havebeen captives to our savage enemy. There are many among us who havelost kindred, wives, sisters, and daughters."
A murmur of assent, uttered chiefly by men in Mexican costume, testifiedto the truth of this statement.
"I myself," continued Seguin, and his voice slightly trembled as hespoke, "am among that number. Years, long years ago, I was robbed of mychild by the Navajoes. I have lately learned that she is still alive,and at their head town with many other white captives. We go, then, torelease and restore them to their friends and homes."
A shout of approbation broke from the crowd, mingled with exclamationsof "Bravo!" "We'll fetch them back!" "Vive le capitaine!" "Viva elgefe!"
When silence was restored, Seguin continued--
"You know our purpose. You have approved it. I will now make known toyou the plan I had designed for accomplishing it, and listen to youradvice."
Here the chief paused a moment, while the men remained silent andwaiting.
"There are three passes," continued he at length, "by which we mightenter the Indian country from this side. There is, first, the route ofthe Western Puerco. That would lead us direct to the Navajo towns."
"And why not take that way?" asked one of the hunters, a Mexican. "Iknow the route well, as far as the Pecos towns."
"Because we could not pass the Pecos towns without being seen by Navajospies. There are always some of them there. Nay, more," continuedSeguin, with a look that expressed a hidden meaning, "we could not getfar up the Del Norte itself before the Navajoes would be warned of ourapproach. We have enemies nearer home."
"Carrai! that is true," said a hunter, speaking in Spanish.
"Should they get word of our coming, even though the warriors had gonesouthward, you can see that we would have a journey for nothing."
"True, true!" shouted several voices.
"For the same reason, we cannot take the pass of Polvidera. Besides, atthis season, there is but little prospect of game on either of theseroutes. We are not prepared for an expedition with our present supply.We must pass through a game-country before we can enter on the desert."
"That is true, captain; but there is as little game to be met if we goby the old mine. What other road, then, can we take?"
"There is still another route better than all, I think. We will strikesouthward, and then west across the Llanos to the old mission. Fromthence we can go north into the Apache country."
"Yes, yes; that is the best way, captain."
"We will have a longer journey, but with advantages. We will find thewild cattle or the buffaloes upon the Llanos. Moreover, we will makesure of our time, as we can `cache' in the Pinon Hills that overlook theApache war-trail, and see our enemies pass out. When they have gonesouth, we can cross the Gila, and keep up the Azul or Prieto. Havingaccomplished the object of our expedition, we may then return homewardby the nearest route."
"Bravo!" "Viva!" "That's jest right, captain!"
"That's clarly our best plan!" were a few among the many forms by whichthe hunters testified their approval of the programme. There was nodissenting voice. The word "Prieto" struck like music upon their ears.That was a magic word: the name of the far-famed river on whose watersthe trapper legends had long placed the El Dorado, "the mountain ofgold." Many a story of this celebrated region had been told at thehunters' camp-fire, all agreeing in one point: that there the gold layin "lumps" upon the surface of the ground, and filled the rivers withits shining grains. Often had the trappers talked of an expedition tothis unknown land; and small parties were said to have actually enteredit, but none of these adventurers had ever been known to return.
The hunters saw now, for the first time, the prospect of penetratingthis region with safety, and their minds were filled with fancies wildand romantic. Not a few of them had joined Seguin's band in hopes thatsome day this very expedition might be undertaken, and the "goldenmountain" reached. What, then, were their feelings when Seguin declaredhis purpose of travelling by the Prieto! At the mention of it a buzz ofpeculiar meaning ran through the crowd, and the men turned to each otherwith looks of satisfaction.
"To-morrow, then, we shall march," added the chief. "Go now and makeyour preparations; we start by daybreak."
As Seguin ceased speaking, the hunters departed, each to look after his"traps and possibles"; a duty soon performed, as these rude rangers werebut little encumbered with camp equipage.
I sat down upon a log, watching for some time the movements of my wildcompanions, and listening to their rude and Babel-
like converse.
At length arrived sunset, or night, for they are almost synonymous inthese latitudes. Fresh logs were flung upon the fires, till they blazedup. The men sat around them, cooking, eating, smoking, talking loudly,and laughing at stories that illustrated their own wild habits. The redlight fell upon fierce, dark faces, now fiercer and more swarthy underthe glare of the burning cotton-wood.
By its light the savage expression was strengthened on everycountenance. Beards looked darker, and teeth gleamed whiter throughthem. Eyes appeared more sunken, and their glances more brilliant andfiend-like. Picturesque costumes met the eye: turbans, Spanish hats,plumes, and mottled garments; escopettes and rifles leaning against thetrees; saddles, high-peaked, resting upon logs and stumps; bridleshanging from the branches overhead; strings of jerked meat drooping infestoons in front of the tents, and haunches of venison still smokingand dripping their half-coagulated drops!
The vermilion smeared on the foreheads of the Indian warriors gleamed inthe night light as though it were blood. It was a picture at oncesavage and warlike--warlike, but with an aspect of ferocity at which thesensitive heart drew back. It was a picture such as may be seen only ina bivouac of guerilleros, of brigands, of man-hunters.