CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.
THE WHITE SCALP.
We repassed the horrid chamber, and emerged upon the lowermost terraceof the temple. As I walked forward to the parapet, there was a scenebelow that filled me with apprehension. A cloud seemed to fall over myheart.
In front of the temple were the women of the village--girls, women, andchildren; in all, about two hundred. They were variously attired: somewere wrapped in their striped blankets; some wore tilmas, and tunics ofembroidered fawn-skin, plumed and painted with dyes of vivid colour;some were dressed in the garb of civilised life--in rich satins, thathad been worn by the dames of the Del Norte; in flounces that hadfluttered in the dance around the ankles of some gay maja.
Not a few in the crowd were entirely nude. They were all Indians, butof lighter and darker shades; differing in colour as in expression offace. Some were old, wrinkled, and coarse; but there were many of themyoung, noble-like, and altogether beautiful.
They were grouped together in various attitudes. They had ceased theirscreaming, but murmured among themselves in low and plaintiveexclamations.
As I looked, I saw blood running from their ears! It had dappled theirthroats and spurted over their garments.
A glance satisfied me as to the cause of this. They had been rudelyrobbed of their golden hangings.
Near and around them stood the scalp-hunters, in groups and afoot. Theywere talking in whispers and low mutterings. There were objects abouttheir persons that attracted my eye. Curious articles of ornament oruse peeped out from their pouches and haversacks--bead-strings andpieces of shining metal--gold it was--hung around their necks and overtheir breasts. These were the plundered bijouterie of the savagemaidens.
There were other objects upon which my eye rested with feelings ofdeeper pain. Stuck behind the belts of many were scalps, fresh andreeking. Their knife-hilts and fingers were red; there was blood upontheir hands; there was gloom in their glances.
The picture was appalling; and, adding to its awful impression, blackclouds were at the moment rolling over the valley, and swathing themountains in their opaque masses. The lightning jetted from peak topeak, followed by short claps of close and deafening thunder.
"Bring up the atajo!" shouted Seguin, as he descended the ladder withhis daughter.
A signal was given; and shortly after the mules, in charge of thearrieros, came stringing across the plain.
"Collect all the dry meat that can be found. Let it be packed asspeedily as possible."
In front of most of the houses there were strings of tasajo hangingagainst the walls. There were also dried fruits and vegetables, chile,roots of the kamas, and skin-bags filled with pinons and choke-berries.
The meat was soon brought together, and several of the men assisted thearrieros in packing it.
"There will be barely enough," said Seguin. "Here, Rube," continued he,calling to the old trapper; "pick out your prisoners. Twenty will be asmany as we can take. You know them: chose those most likely to tempt anexchange."
So saying, the chief turned off towards the atajo, leading his daughterwith the intention of mounting her on one of the mules.
Rube proceeded to obey the orders given him. In a short time he hadcollected a number of unresisting captives, and had put them aside fromthe rest. They were principally girls and young lads, whose dress andfeatures bespoke them of the noblesse of the nation, the children ofchiefs and warriors.
This movement was not regarded in silence. The men had drawn together,and commenced talking in loud and mutinous language.
"Wagh!" exclaimed Kirker, a fellow of brutal aspect; "thar are wivesapiece, boys: why not every man help himself? Why not?"
"Kirker's right," Rejoined another; "and I've made up my mind to haveone, or bust."
"But how are ye goin' to feed 'em on the road? We ha'n't meat if wetake one apiece."
"Meat be hanged!" ejaculated the second speaker; "we kin reach the DelNorte in four days or less. What do we want with so much meat?"
"There's meat a-plenty," rejoined Kirker. "That's all the captain'spalaver. If it runs out we kin drop the weemen, and take what o' them'shandiest to carry."
This was said with a significant gesture, and a ferocity of expressionrevolting to behold.
"Now, boys! what say ye?"
"I freeze to Kirker."
"And I."
"And I."
"I'm not goin' to advise anybody," added the brute. "Ye may all do asye please about it; but this niggur's not a-goin' to starve in the midsto' plenty."
"Right, comrade! right, I say."
"Wal. First spoke first pick, I reckin. That's mountain law; so, oldgal, I cottons to you. Come along, will yer?"
Saying this, he seized one of the Indians, a large, fine-looking woman,roughly by the wrist, and commenced dragging her towards the atajo.
The woman screamed and resisted, frightened, not at what had been said,for she did not understand it, but terrified by the ruffian expressionthat was plainly legible in the countenance of the man.
"Shut up yer meat-trap, will ye?" cried he, still pulling her towardsthe mules; "I'm not goin' to eat ye. Wagh! Don't be so skeert. Come!mount hyar. Gee yup!"
And with this exclamation he lifted the woman upon one of the mules.
"If ye don't sit still, I'll tie ye; mind that!" and he held up thelasso, making signs of his determination.
A horrid scene now ensued.
A number of the scalp-hunters followed the example of their ruffiancomrade. Each one chose the girl or woman he had fancied, and commencedhurrying her off to the atajo. The women shrieked. The men shouted andswore. Several scrambled for the same prize--a girl more beautiful thanher companions. A quarrel was the consequence. Oaths and ejaculationsrang out; knives were drawn and pistols cocked.
"Toss up for her!" cried one.
"Ay, that's fair; toss up! toss up!" shouted several.
The hint was adopted; the lots were cast; and the savage belle becamethe property of the winner.
In the space of a few minutes nearly every mule in the atajo carried anIndian damsel.
Some of the hunters had taken no part in this Sabine proceeding. Somedisapproved of it (for all were not bad) from motives of humanity.Others did not care for being "hampered with a squaw," but stood apart,savagely laughing at the scene.
During all this time Seguin was on the other side of the building withhis daughter. He had mounted her upon one of the mules, and covered hershoulders with his serape. He was making such preparations for herjourney as the tender solicitudes of the father suggested.
The noise at length attracted him; and, leaving her in charge of hisservants, he hurried round to the front.
"Comrades!" cried he, glancing at the mounted captives, andcomprehending all that had occurred, "there are too many here. Arethese whom you have chosen?" This question was directed to the trapperRube.
"No," replied the latter, "them's 'em," and he pointed to the party hehad picked out.
"Dismount these, then, and place those you have selected upon the mules.We have a desert to cross, and it will be as much as we can do to passit with that number."
And without appearing to notice the scowling looks of his followers, heproceeded, in company with Rube and several others, to execute thecommand he had given.
The indignation of the hunters now showed itself in open mutiny. Fiercelooks were exchanged, and threats uttered aloud.
"By Heaven!" cried one, "I'll have my gal along, or her scalp."
"Vaya!" exclaimed another, in Spanish; "why take any of them? They'renot worth the trouble, after all. There's not one of them worth theprice of her own hair."
"Take the har then, and leave the niggurs!" suggested a third.
"I say so too."
"And I."
"I vote with you, hoss."
"Comrades!" said Seguin, turning to the mutineers, and speaking in atone of extreme mildness, "remember your promise. Count th
e prisoners,as we agreed. I will answer for the payment of all."
"Can ye pay for them now?" asked a voice.
"You know that that would be impossible."
"Pay for them now! Pay for them now!" shouted several.
"Cash or scalps, says I."
"Carrajo! where is the captain to get the money when we reach El Pasomore than here? He's neither a Jew nor a banker; and it's news to me ifhe's grown so rich. Where, then, is all the money to some from?"
"Not from the Cabildo, unless the scalps are forthcoming; I'll warrantthat."
"True, Jose! They'll give no money to him, more than to us; and we canget it ourselves if we show the skins for it. That we can."
"Wagh! what cares he for us, now that he has got what he wanted?"
"Not a niggur's scalp. He wouldn't let us go by the Prieto, when we kud'a gathered the shining stuff in chunks."
"Now he wants us to throw away this chance too. We'd be green fools todo it, I say."
It struck me at this moment that I might interfere, with success. Moneyseemed to be what the mutineers wanted; at least it was their allegedgrievance; and rather than witness the fearful drama which appeared tobe on the eve of enactment, I would have sacrificed my fortune.
"Men!" cried I, speaking so that I could be heard above the din, "if youdeem my word worth listening to, it is this: I have sent a cargo toChihuahua with the last caravan. By the time we get back to El Paso thetraders will have returned, and I shall be placed in possession of fundsdouble what you demand. If you will accept my promise, I shall see thatyou be paid."
"Wagh! that talk's all very well, but what do we know of you or yercargo?"
"Vaya! A bird in the hand's worth two in the bush."
"He's a trader. Who's goin' to take his word?"
"Rot his cargo! Scalps or cash, cash or scalps! that's this niggur'sadvice; an' if ye don't take it, boys, ye may leave it! but it's all thepay ye'll ever crook yer claws on."
The men had tasted blood, and like the tiger, they thirsted for more.There were glaring eyes on all sides, and the countenances of someexhibited an animal ferociousness hideous to look upon. The half-robberdiscipline that hitherto ruled in the band seemed to have completelydeparted, and the authority of the chief to be set at defiance.
On the other side stood the females, clinging and huddling together.They could not understand the mutinous language, but they sawthreatening attitudes and angry faces. They saw knives drawn, and heardthe cocking of guns and pistols. They knew there was danger, and theycrouched together, whimpering with fear.
Up to this moment Seguin had stood giving directions for the mounting ofhis captives. His manner was strangely abstracted, as it had been eversince the scene of meeting with his daughter. That greater care,gnawing at his heart, seemed to render him insensible to what waspassing. He was not so.
As Kirker ended (for he was the last speaker) a change came overSequin's manner, quick as a flash of lightning. Suddenly rousinghimself from his attitude of indifference, he stepped forward in frontof the mutineers.
"Dare!" shouted he, in a voice of thunder, "dare to dishonour youroaths! By heavens! the first man who raises knife or rifle shall die onthe instant!"
There was a pause, and a moment of deep silence.
"I had made a vow," continued he, "that should it please God to restoreme my child, this hand should be stained with no more blood. Let anyman force me to break that vow, and, by Heaven, his blood shall be thefirst to stain it!"
A vengeful murmur ran through the crowd, but no one replied.
"You are but a cowardly brute, with all your bluster," he continued,turning round to Kirker, and looking him in the eye. "Up with thatknife! quick! or I will send this bullet through your ruffian heart!"
Seguin had drawn his pistol, and stood in an attitude that told he wouldexecute the threat. His form seemed to have grown larger; his eyedilated, flashing as it rolled, and the man shrank before its glance.He saw death in it if he disobeyed, and with a surly murmur he fumbledmechanically at his belt, and thrust the blade back into its sheath.
But the mutiny was not yet quelled. These were men not so easilyconquered. Fierce exclamations still continued, and the mutineers againbegan to encourage one another with shouts.
I had thrown myself alongside the chief, with my revolvers cocked andready, resolved to stand by him to the death. Several others had donethe same, among whom were Rube, Garey, Sanchez the bull-fighter, and theMaricopa.
The opposing parties were nearly equal, and a fearful conflict wouldhave followed had we fought; but at this moment an object appeared thatstifled the resentment of all. It was the common enemy!
Away on the western border of the valley we could see dark objects,hundreds of them, coming over the plain. They were still at a greatdistance, but the practised eyes of the hunters knew them at a glance.They were horsemen; they were Indians; they were our pursuers, theNavajoes!
They were riding at full gallop, and strung over the prairie like houndsupon a run. In a twinkling they would be on us.
"Yonder!" cried Seguin, "yonder are scalps enough to satisfy you; butlet us see to our own. Come! to your horses! On with the atajo! Iwill keep my word with you at the pass. Mount! my brave fellows,mount!"
The last speech was uttered in a tone of reconciliation; but it needednot that to quicken the movements of the hunters. They knew too welltheir own danger. They could have sustained the attack among thehouses, but it would only have been until the return of the main tribe,when they knew that every life would be taken. To make a stand at thetown would be madness, and was not thought of. In a moment we were inour saddles; and the atajo, strung out with the captives and provisions,was hurrying off toward the woods. We purposed passing the defile thatopened eastward, as our retreat by the other route was now cut off bythe advancing horsemen.
Seguin had thrown himself at the head, leading the mule upon which hisdaughter was mounted. The rest followed, straggling over the plainwithout rank or order.
I was among the last to leave the town. I had lingered behindpurposely, fearing some outrage, and determined, if possible, to preventit.
"At length," thought I, "they have all gone!" and putting spurs to myhorse, I galloped after.
When I had ridden about a hundred yards from the walls, a loud yell rangbehind me; and, reining in my horse, I turned in the saddle and lookedback. Another yell, wild and savage, directed me to the point whencethe former had come.
On the highest roof of the temple two men were struggling. I knew themat a glance; and I knew, too, it was a death-struggle. One was themedicine chief, as I could tell by the flowing, white hair. The scantyskirt and leggings, the naked ankles, the close-fitting skull-cap,enabled me easily to distinguish his antagonist. It was the earlesstrapper!
The conflict was a short one. I had not seen the beginning of it, but Isoon witnessed the denouement. As I turned, the trapper had forced hisadversary against the parapet, and with his long, muscular arm wasbending him over its edge. In the other hand, uplifted, he brandishedhis knife!
I saw a quick flash as the blade was plunged; a red gush spurted overthe garments of the Indian; his arms dropped, his body doubled over thewall, balanced a moment, and then fell with a dull, sodden sound uponthe terrace below!
The same wild whoop again rang in my ears, and the hunter disappearedfrom the root.
I turned to ride on. I knew it was the settling of some old account,the winding up of some terrible revenge.
The clattering of hoofs sounded behind me, and a horseman rode upalongside. I knew, without turning my head, that it was the trapper.
"Fair swop, they say, ain't no stealin'. Putty har, too, it ur. Wagh!It won't neyther match nor patch mine; but it makes one's feelin'seasier."
Puzzled at this speech, I turned to ascertain its meaning. I wasanswered by the sight that met my eye. An object was hanging from theold man's belt, like a streak of snow-white flax. But it wa
s not that.It was hair. It was a scalp!
There were drops of blood struggling down the silvery strands as theyshook, and across them, near the middle, was a broad red band. It wasthe track of the trapper's knife where he had wiped it!