Les scalpeurs blancs. English.

  CHAPTER X.

  RETURN TO LIFE.

  We are now compelled to go a little way back, and return to one of theprincipal actors of our story, whom we have too long neglected; weallude to White Scalper. The reader of the "Freebooters" will,doubtless, remember that the terrible combat on the deck of the brig,between Tranquil and the Scalper, was continued in the sea, into whichthe ferocious old man had been hurled by the negro who followed him.

  Quoniam had been in too great a hurry in telling the Canadian of thedeath of his enemy; it is true, though, that the negro acted in goodfaith, and really believed he had killed him. The last dagger stab dealtby Quoniam was buried deep in the old man's chest; the wound was soserious that the Scalper immediately left off further resistance; hiseyes closed, his nerves relaxed like broken springs; he loosed hold ofhis enemy, to whom he had hitherto clung, and remained an inert mass,tossed at the mercy of the waves.

  The Negro, exhausted with fatigue and half suffocated, hastened back tothe deck of the vessel, persuaded that his enemy was dead; but it wasnot so. The Scalper had merely lost his senses, and his inanimate bodywas picked up by a Mexican boat. But, when this boat reached the shore,the crew, on seeing the horrible wounds which covered the stranger'sbody, his pallor and corpse-like immobility, had, in their turn, fanciedhim dead, and taking no further trouble about him, threw him back intothe sea. Fortunately for the Scalper, at the moment when the crew formedthis determination the boat was close to land, so that his body,supported by the waves, was gently deposited on the sand, the lower partremaining submerged, while the head and chest were left dry by theretirement of the waves.

  Either through the fresh night air or the oscillating movement the seaimparted to the lower part of his body, within an hour the old man gavea slight start; a sigh heaved his powerful chest, and a few instinctiveattempts to change his position clearly showed that this vigorousorganisation was struggling energetically against death, and compellingit to retire. At length the wounded man opened his eyes, but profoundgloom still enveloped him like a winding sheet. On the other hand, thefatigue produced by the gigantic struggle he had sustained, and theenormous quantity of blood which had escaped through his wounds, causedhim a general weakness, so great, both morally and physically, that itwas impossible for the Scalper, not merely to find out where he was, butto remember the circumstances that had brought him there.

  It was in vain that he tried to restore order in his ideas, or bringback his fugitive thoughts; the shock had been too rude; the commotiontoo strong; in spite of all his efforts he could not succeed inrefastening the broken thread of his thoughts. He saw himself, alone,wounded, and abandoned on the seashore; he understood instinctively allthe horror and desperation of his position; but no gleam of intelligenceflashed across his brain to guide him in this fearful chaos. He wasangry with himself at the impotence to which he found himself reducedand the impossibility of attempting anything to get only a few yardsaway from the sea, at the edge of which, he was lying, and which wouldinfallibly swallow him up, if his weakness overcame his will andbetrayed his courage.

  Then took place on that desolate shore a horrible drama, filled withmoving and startling incidents--the wild struggles of a half-dead manstriving to reconquer the existence which was ebbing from him, andstruggling with savage energy against the death whose fatal hand alreadypressed heavily upon him. The slightest movement the Scalper attemptedoccasioned him unheard of sufferings, not only through the numerouswounds, whose lips were filled with sand and gravel, but also because hewas compelled to confess to himself that all his efforts would lead tono result, and that, unless a miracle happened, he was infallibly lost.

  That miracle, which the wretch did not hope for, the very thought ofwhich could not occur to him, Providence, whose ways are impenetrable,and who often only appears to save a guilty man to inflict on him a moreterrible chastisement, was preparing to perform at the moment when thewounded man, his strength and energy exhausted, was falling backconquered on the beach, resolved to await coldly that death which hecould not avoid.

  The Texans had scattered along the beach several parties of Freebooters,who were intended to watch the movements of the Mexican cruisers. Theseparties were all within hail of each other, and able to assemble at agiven point with extreme rapidity. Chance willed it that when theScalper's body was again thrown into the sea it touched shore not farfrom a rather large rancho standing close to the beach, and in which themost influential Chiefs of the Texan army were this night assembled, inprevision of the great events that were preparing. Naturally theapproaches to the rancho were carefully guarded, and numerous patrolsmarched around it in order to ensure the safety of the Chiefs.

  One of these patrols had seen the Mexican boats land, and hurried up todrive them off, which they easily effected, as the Mexicans were not atall desirous to begin a fresh fight with enemies whose number andstrength they were not acquainted with, and whom they supposed, withsome appearance of reason, to be in communication with those rebels withwhom they had been fighting an hour previously. When the boats got outto sea again, the Texans began carefully examining the beach, in orderto be certain that all their enemies had retired and left nobody behindthem. The first to discover the Scalper's body summoned his comrades,and soon the wounded man had twenty individuals round him. At the firstmoment they fancied him dead; the Scalper heard all that was said aroundhim, but was unable to make a move or utter a word. He felt terriblyalarmed for a moment; it was when a Freebooter, after bending over andcarefully examining him, rose again with the careless remark:

  "The poor devil is dead, we have nothing to do but dig a hole in thesand and put him in it, so that the coyotes and vultures may not devourhis corpse. Some of you go and fetch the largest stones you can findwhile we dig a hole here with our machetes; it will soon be over."

  At this sentence, pronounced in a perfectly calm and careless voice, asif it were the simplest and most natural thing in the world, the Scalperfelt a cold perspiration beading at the root of his hair, and a shudderof terror run over his body. He made a tremendous effort to speak orshriek, but it was in vain. He was in that almost cataleptic state inwhich, although the intellect retains all its lucidity, the body is aninert and insensible mass which no longer obeys.

  "Stay," said another adventurer interposing, and checking by a signthose who were preparing to pick up the stones; "let us not be in such ahurry. This poor wretch is a creature made after God's own image;although his is in a pitiable state, a breath of life may still be leftin him. We shall still be in a position to bury him if we find that heis really dead; but first let us assure ourselves that any assistance isin vain."

  "Nonsense," the first speaker continued; "Fray Antonio is always likethat; were we to listen to him, all the dead would only be wounded, andhe would make us lose precious time in giving them useless care.However, as there is nothing to hurry us at this moment, I ask no betterthan to try and bring this man round, although he appears to me as deadas a fellow can well be."

  "No matter," Fray Antonio answered, "let us try, at any rate."

  "Very good," said the other with a shrug of the shoulders.

  "And first let us remove him from here. When, he is perfectly dry, andruns no further risk of being carried off by the waves, we will see whatwe have to do."

  The wounded man was immediately picked up by four Freebooters, andgently carried some twenty yards off to an entirely dry spot, where itwas impossible for the sea to reach him. The worthy monk then produced alarge case bottle of rum, which he uncorked, and after explaining hisduty to each, that is to say, after ordering that the temples, wrists,and pit of the stomach should be vigorously rubbed with rum, he bentover him, and opening his jaws, which were tight as a vice, with theblade of his dagger, he poured into his mouth an honest quartern of rum.The effect of this double treatment was not long delayed. In a fewseconds the wounded man gave a alight start, opened his eyes feebly,and, gave vent to a sigh of relief.

  "Ah, ah," said Fray An
tonio with a laugh: "what do you think of that, NoRuperto? I fancy your dead man is coming to life again, eh?"

  "On my word, it is true," the other answered with a grin; "well, that isa man who can flatter himself with having his soul screwed into hisbody; by Bacchus! If he recover, which I did not yet assert, he can saythat he has made a preciously long journey."

  In the meantime, the friction was continued with the same vigour; thecirculation of the blood was rapidly re-established; the Scalper's eyesbecame less haggard, his features were relaxed, and an expression ofcomfort spread over his countenance.

  "Do you feel better?" the monk asked him kindly.

  "Yes," he answered in a weak, though perfectly distinct voice.

  "All the better. With the help of Heaven we will get you out of thescrape."

  By a singular accident, the monk had not yet recognised the man to whomhe had himself owed his life a few months previously. The wounds werecarefully washed with rum and water, and cleared from the sand andgravel adhering to them; they were then poulticed with pounded oreganoleaves, an extremely effective remedy for wounds, and then carefullytied up.

  "There," the monk continued with an air of satisfaction, "that isfinished. I will now have you carried to a spot where you will be muchbetter able than here to enjoy that repose which is indispensable foryou after so rude a shock."

  "Do what you please with me," the wounded man answered with an effort;"I owe you too much to offer the slightest objection."

  "The more so," Ruperto answered with a laugh, "because it would beperfectly useless; the reverend Father has undertaken your cure, and,whether you like it or no, you must follow his prescriptions."

  At a sign from Fray Antonio, four powerful men raised the patient intheir arms, and carried him into the rancho. It was he who ColonelMelendez had seen go in, when led by chance to the same rancho, he hadfor some minutes listened to, and surveyed what was going on inside. Therancho belonged to a rich Texan haciendero, a devoted partisan of therevolution, and who was delighted to place at the disposal of the Chiefsa retreat which he had built in happier times for a summer villa. Thishouse, while agreeably situated, spacious, and well kept up, wasabundantly provided, not only with everything indispensable forexistence, but also with those thousand trifles and luxuries which areconventionally called comfort, and which rich persons, throughlengthened habit, cannot do without.

  The Chiefs were at first rather annoyed at the free and easy way inwhich Fray Antonio, without giving them notice, had encumbered them witha wounded stranger. But when they saw in what a pitiable state the poorfellow was, they made no further objection, but allowed the monk toinstal him where he thought best. Fray Antonio did not allow thepermission to be repeated. Aided by the master of the rancho, hetransported the wounded man to a spacious and airy room, whose windowslooked out on the sea, and in which the Scalper was placed in anadmirably healthy condition.

  So soon as the patient was laid in a bed expressly made for him--for inthese torrid climates the inhabitants are accustomed to sleep on mats,or at the most in hammocks--the monk handed him a narcotic drink, whichhe requested him to swallow. The effect was almost immediate; a fewminutes after he had drunk it, White Scalper fell into a calm andrestorative sleep. The entire night passed without any incident; thewounded man slept for eight hours at a stretch, and when he awoke, hewas no longer the same; he felt fresh, cheerful, and reposed.

  Several days passed thus, during which Fray Antonio paid him the closestand most affectionate attention. If, at the first moment, the monk wasunable to recognise the White Scalper, it was not long ere he did so bydaylight; after carefully examining this man, whose appearance hadreally something strange and remarkable about it, his recollectionreturned, and he recognised the hunter so greatly feared on the prairieby the Redskins, and even by the whites, and to whom himself owed hislife under such singular circumstances; hence, he was pleased at theopportunity chance afforded him of repaying his debt to this man. Butas, on the other hand, the wounded man, either through obstinacy ordefective memory, did not appear at all to remember him, the monk kepthis discovery to himself, and continued his attentions to the woundedman without permitting himself the slightest allusion which might causethe other to suspect that he was recognised.

  Things went on thus till the day of the battle of Cerro Pardo. In themorning, as usual, Fray Antonio entered his patient's room, whose curewas rapidly advancing, thanks to the efficacy of the oregano leaves. Hiswounds were almost cicatrized, and he felt his strength returning.

  "My friend," said the monk to him, "I have done all for you I morallycould; you will do me the justice of saying that I nursed you like abrother."

  "I have only thanks to offer you," the wounded man said, stretching outhis hand.

  "Much obliged," said Fray Antonio, as he took this hand; "today I havebad news for you."

  "Bad news?" the other repeated in surprise.

  "After all," the monk continued, "the news may be good. Still, to dealfrankly with you, I do not believe it; I augur no good from what we aregoing to do."

  "I must confess that I do not at all understand you, so I should feelextremely obliged if you would explain yourself more clearly."

  "That is true. Indeed, you cannot suspect anything. In two words, thisis the affair: the army has received orders to march forward this verymorning."

  "So that----?" the wounded man asked.

  "I am, to my great regret," the monk said with a crafty smile,"compelled to leave you behind."

  "Hum!" the White Scalper mattered in some alarm.

  "Unless," Fray Antonio continued, "as I dare not hope, we beat theMexicans, in which case you are certain to see me again."

  The patient seemed to grow more and more restless about the position inwhich he ran a risk of being left.

  "Did you come solely to tell me that?" he asked.

  "No. I wished to make you a proposal."

  "What is it?" the other eagerly asked.

  "Listen. I picked you up in a most desperate state."

  "That is true: I allow it."

  "Although some people say," Fray Antonio continued, "that you receivedyour wounds in fighting against us, and, indeed, some of our men declarethemselves certain of the fact, I would not put faith in their words. Iknow not why, but since I have been nursing you, I have grown to take aninterest in you; I should not like the cure I have carried on hithertoso successfully, to break down. This is what I propose: about onehundred miles from the spot where we now are, there is an encampment ofwhite men and half-breeds, over whom I possessed considerable influencesome time back. I believe that they have not yet quite forgotten me, andthat anyone joining them as from me, would meet with a kindly reception.Will you go there? It is a risk to run."

  "How could I perform this journey in my present state of weakness andprostration?"

  "That need not trouble you. Four men, who are devoted to me, willconduct you to my old friends."

  "Oh, if that be the case," the Scalper exclaimed eagerly, "I gladlyaccept. If I perished on the road, I would prefer that to remaining herealone."

  "I trust that you will not perish, but reach your destination all right.So that is agreed. You will go?"

  "With the greatest pleasure. When do we start?"

  "At once, there is not a moment to lose."

  "Good! Give the necessary orders, I am ready."

  "I must warn you, however, that the men to whom I am sending you, areslightly of a scampish nature, and you must not assume any high moraltone with them."

  "What does it concern me? if they were even pirates of the prairies,believe me, I should attach no importance to the fact."

  "Bravo! I see that we understand each other, for I believe these worthygentlemen dabble a little in all trades."

  "Good, good!" the Scalper gaily answered; "Do not trouble yourself aboutthat."

  "In that case, get ready to start; I shall return in ten minutes at thelatest."

  With these words, the monk left the r
oom. The old man, who had not manypreparations to make, was soon in a position to take the road. As he hadstated, within ten minutes the monk returned, followed by four men.Among them was Ruperto, who, it will be remembered, offered the adviceto bury the wounded man in the sand. The Scalper was still very weak,and incapable of either walking or sitting a horse. The monk hadremedied this inconvenience, as far as possible, by having a clumsylitter prepared for the wounded man, carried by two mules, and in whichhe could recline. This mode of transport was very slow, and extremelyinconvenient, especially for the guides, in a country such as they hadto cross; but it was the only one practicable at the moment, and so theymust put up with it. The wounded man was carried to the litter, and laidon it as comfortably as was possible.

  "And now," said the monk, "may Heaven direct you; do not feel at allalarmed, Ruperto has many instructions, and I know him well enough to beconvinced that he will not depart from them, whatever may happen. So youcan trust to him. Good bye!"

  And, after giving the wounded man his hand, Fray Antonio made a movementto retire.

  "One moment," said the old man, as he held the hand he had taken; "Iwish to say but one word to you."

  "Speak, but be brief. I have the weightiest reasons for desiring yourimmediate departure; in a few minutes some wounded men will arrive here,who have hitherto been kept in the fort, and whom you would probably notbe at all pleased to meet."

  "I fancy I can understand to whom you allude; but that is not thequestion. I wish, before parting with you, and not knowing whether Ishall ever see you again, to express to you the gratitude I feel foryour conduct toward me, a gratitude which is the greater because I amconvinced you have recognised me."

  "And suppose I have?"

  "You needed only to say one word to surrender me to my most inveterateenemies; and yet you did not utter that word."

  "Certainly not; for even supposing, as you seem to believe, that I haverecognised you, I was only discharging a debt I had incurred with you."

  The old man's face writhed; his eye became moist; he warmly squeezed themonk's hand, which he had till now held in his own, and it was withmuch emotion and tenderness that he added--

  "Thanks. This kindness will not be lost; the events of the last few dayshave greatly modified my way of looking at certain things; you shallnever regret having saved my life."

  "I hope so; but be gone, and may Heaven guard you!"

  "We shall meet again."

  "Who knows?" the monk muttered, as he gave the guides a signal.

  The latter flogged their mules, and the litter began moving. About anhour after the start, it met a covered cart, in which lay Tranquil, butthey passed without seeing each other. The monk had only spoken thetruth about Ruperto. The worthy adventurer was most attentive to thesick man, carefully watching over him, and trying to while away thetedium of the journey. Unluckily, the party had to cross an essentiallyprimitive country, in which there were no roads, and where the guideswere generally obliged to cut a path with their axes. The litteradvanced but slowly, and with unheard of difficulty, along theabominable tracts, and, despite the most minute precautions, the woundedman suffered horribly from the jolting and shakes the mules gave thelitter almost every moment.

  Ruperto, to fatigue the patient as little as possible, only travelled bynight, or very early in the morning, ere the sun had acquired its fullstrength. They marched thus for a fortnight, during which the countrygrew wilder, and the ground gradually ascended; the scenery became moreabrupt and stern, the virgin forests closed in, and they could see thatthey were approaching the mountains.

  One evening, when the little party had established their night bivouacon the banks of a rapid stream that flowed into the Arkansas, theScalper, who, in spite of the privations and fatigue to which he hadbeen constantly exposed since his departure from the rancho, felt hisstrength gradually returning, asked his guide how many days theirjourney would still last--which as yet he had been unwilling to do,through a feeling of delicacy. At this question, Ruperto smiledcunningly.

  "Our journey has been finished for the last four days," he said.

  "What do you mean?" the Scalper asked with a start of surprise.

  "The people we are going to see," the adventurer went on, "do not liketo receive visits without being previously advised; surprises do notagree with them. In order to avoid any misunderstanding, which is alwaysto be regretted between old friends, I employed the only means in mypower."

  "And what is it?"

  "Oh, it is very simple. Just look at our camp--do people guardthemselves in this way on the desert? Instead of being at the top of ahill, we are at the watering place of the wild beasts; the smoke fromour fire, instead of being concealed, is, on the contrary, visible for agreat distance. Do all these acts of imprudence committed purposelyteach you nothing?"

  "Ah, ah," the old man said, "then you wish your friends to surprise us?"

  "Quite right. In that way the recognition will be effected withoutstriking a blow. And stay! If I am not mistaken, we are about to receivevisitors."

  At this moment the branches of a neighbouring thicket were roughlyparted and several men rushed into the camp, with the machete in onehand, the rifle in the other.