CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.
EL PASO DEL NORTE.
I will not describe the recrossing of the desert plains, nor will Idetail the incidents of our homeward journey. With all its hardshipsand weariness, to me it was a pleasant one. It is a pleasure to attendupon her we love, and that along the route was my chief duty. Thesmiles I received far more than repaid me for the labour I underwent inits discharge. But it was not labour. It was no labour to fill herxuages with fresh water at every spring or runlet, to spread the blanketsoftly over her saddle, to weave her a _quitasol_ out of the broadleaves of the palmilla, to assist her in mounting and dismounting. No;that was not labour to me.
We were happy as we journeyed. I was happy, for I knew that I hadfulfilled my contract and won my bride; and the very remembrance of theperils through which we had so lately passed heightened the happiness ofboth. But one thing cast an occasional gloom over our thoughts--thequeen, Adele.
She was returning to the home of her childhood, not voluntarily, but asa captive--captive to her own kindred, her father and mother!
Throughout the journey both these waited upon her with tender assiduity,almost constantly gazing at her with sad and silent looks. There waswoe in their hearts.
We were not pursued; or, if so, our pursuers never came up. Perhaps wewere not followed at all. The foe had been crippled and cowed by theterrible chastisement, and we knew it would be some time before theycould muster force enough to take our trail. Still we lost not amoment, but travelled as fast as the ganados could be pushed forward.
In five days we reached the Barranca del Oro, and passed the old mine,the scene of our bloody conflict. During our halt among the ruinedranches, I strayed away from the rest, impelled by a painful curiosityto see if aught remained of my late follower or his fellow-victim. Iwent to the spot where I had last seen their bodies. Yes; two skeletonslay in front of the shaft, as cleanly picked by the wolves as if theyhad been dressed for the studio of an anatomist. It was all thatremained of the unfortunate men.
After leaving the Barranca del Oro, we struck the head waters of the RioMimbres; and, keeping on the banks of that stream, followed it down tothe Del Norte. Next day we entered the pueblo of El Paso.
A scene of singular interest greeted us on our arrival. As we nearedthe town, the whole population flocked out to meet us. Some had comeforth from curiosity, some to welcome us and take part in the ceremonythat hailed our triumphant return, but not a few impelled by fardifferent motives. We had brought with us a large number of rescuedcaptives--nearly fifty in all--and these were soon surrounded by a crowdof citizens. In that crowd were yearning mothers and fond sisters,lovers newly awakened from despair, and husbands who had not yet ceasedto mourn. There were hurried inquiries, and quick glances, thatbetokened keen anxiety. There were "scenes" and shouts of joy, as eachone recognised some long-lost object of a dear affection. But therewere other scenes of a diverse character, scenes of woe and wailing; forof many of those who had gone forth, but a few days before, in the prideof health and the panoply of war, many came not back.
I was particularly struck with one episode--a painful one to witness.Two women of the poblana class had laid hold upon one of the captives, agirl of, I should think, about ten years of age. Each claimed the girlfor her daughter, and each of them held one of her arms, not rudely, butto hinder the other from carrying her off. A crowd had encircled them,and both the women were urging their claims in loud and plaintive voice.
One stated the age of the girl, hastily narrated the history of hercapture by the savages, and pointed to certain marks upon her person, towhich she declared she was ready at any moment to make _juramento_. Theother appealed to the spectators to look at the colour of the child'shair and eyes, which slightly differed from that of the other claimant,and called upon them to note the resemblance she bore to another, whostood by, and who, she alleged, was the child's eldest sister. Bothtalked at the same time, and kissed the girl repeatedly as they talked.
The little wild captive stood between the two, receiving their alternateembraces with a wondering and puzzled expression. She was, in truth, amost interesting child, habited in the Indian costume, and browned bythe sun of the desert. Whichever might have been the mother, it wasevident she had no remembrance of either of them; for here there was nomother! In her infancy she had been carried off to the desert, and,like the daughter of Seguin, had forgotten the scenes of her childhood.She had forgotten father--mother--all!
It was, as I have said, a scene painful to witness; the women's looks ofanguish, their passionate appeals, their wild but affectionate embraceslavished upon the girl, their plaintive cries mingled with sobs andweeping. It was indeed a painful scene.
It was soon brought to a close, at least as far as I witnessed it. Thealcalde came upon the ground; and the girl was given in charge to thepolicia, until the true mother should bring forward more definite proofsof maternity. I never heard the finale of this little romance.
The return of the expedition to El Paso was celebrated by a triumphantovation. Cannon boomed, bells rang, fireworks hissed and sputtered,masses were sung, and music filled the streets. Feasting and merrimentfollowed, and the night was turned into a blazing illumination of waxcandles, and _un gran funcion de balle_--a fandango.
Next morning, Seguin, with his wife and daughters, made preparations tojourney on to the old hacienda on the Del Norte. The house was stillstanding; so we had heard. It had not been plundered. The savages, ontaking possession of it, had been closely pressed by a body of Pasenos,and had hurried off with their captives, leaving everything else as theyhad found it.
Saint Vrain and I were to accompany the party to their home.
The chief had plans for the future, in which both I and my friend wereinterested. There we were to mature them.
I found the returns of my trading speculation even greater than SaintVrain had promised. My ten thousand dollars had been trebled. SaintVrain, too, was master of a large amount; and we were enabled to bestowour bounty on those of our late comrades who had proved themselvesworthy.
But most of them had received "bounty" from another source. As we rodeout from El Paso, I chanced to look back. There was a long string ofdark objects waving over the gates. There was no mistaking what theywere, for they were unlike anything else. They were scalps!