CHAPTER XXV.
THE LAST HALT.
Now that we are approaching the last pages of our book, we cannotrepress a feeling of regret on thinking of the scenes of blood andmurder which, in order to be truthful, we were compelled to unfoldbefore our readers. If this narrative had been a fable, and we had beenable to arrange our subject at our pleasure, most assuredly many sceneswould have been cut down and altered. Unhappily, we have been obliged tonarrate facts just as they happened, although we have frequently beencareful to tone down certain details whose naked truth would havescandalized the reader.
Were we to be reproached with the continual combats in which our heroesare engaged, we should reply; we describe the manners of a race which isdaily diminishing in the convulsive grasp of the civilization againstwhich it struggles in vain; this race is called upon by the fatal decreeof fate to disappear ere long eternally from the face of the globe; itsmanners and customs will then pass into the condition of a legend andbeing preserved by tradition, will not fail to be falsified and becomeincomprehensible. It is therefore our duty, who have become the unworthyhistorian of this unhappy race, to make it known as it was, as it isstill, for acting otherwise would have been a felonious deed on ourpart, of which our readers would have been justified in complaining.
Finishing this parenthesis, which is already too long, but which webelieve to be not merely necessary but indispensable, we will resumeour narrative at the point where we left it.
We will now lead the reader to the extreme outposts of the Mexican army.This army, six thousand strong on its entrance into Texas, now amountedto no more than fifteen hundred, including a reinforcement of fivehundred men, which General Cos had just brought up. The successivevictories gained by Santa Anna over the Texans had therefore cost himjust five thousand men. This negative triumph caused the President ofthe Mexican Republic considerable reflection. He began to understand theextraordinary difficulties of this war against an exasperated people,and he speculated with terror on the terrible consequences a defeatwould have for him, if those intractable enemies he had been pursuing solong resolved at last to wait for him and succeeded in defeating him.Unluckily, whatever Santa Anna's apprehensions might be, it was too lateto withdraw, and he must try his fortune to the end.
A space of five leagues at the most separated the two belligerentarmies, and that space was diminished nearly one-half by the position oftheir videttes. The vanguard of the Mexican army, composed of twohundred regulars, was commanded by Colonel Melendez, but a leaguefurther ahead was encamped a forlorn hope, which had to clear the wayfor the movements of the army. These were simply the pirates of theprairies, commanded by our old acquaintance Sandoval, whom we saw ashort time back introduce himself to the Jaguar, and make so singular abargain with him.
In spite of the extremely slight esteem in which the Mexican army heldthe honesty of the said Sandoval and his myrmidons, General Santa Annafound himself constrained to place a certain amount of confidence inthese thorough-paced scoundrels, owing to their incontestable capabilityas guides, and above all, as flankers. The General, consequently, foundhimself obliged almost to close his eyes to the crimes they committednearly daily, and to let them act as they pleased. Let us add, that thepirates conscientiously abused the liberty conceded them, and did nothesitate to indulge in the most extraordinary caprices, which we hadbetter pass over in silence.
These worthy men, then, were bivouacked, as we have said, about a leaguein advance of the Mexican army, and as they liked to take their easewhenever the opportunity offered, they had found nothing better thanquartering themselves in a pueblo, whose inhabitants had naturally fledat their approach, and the houses of which the pirates pulled down, inorder to procure wood for their campfires. Still, either by accident orsome other reason, one house, or rather hut, had escaped the generalruin, and alone remained standing. It was not only untouched, but shutup, and a sentry was stationed before the door. This sentry, however,did not appear to trouble himself much about the orders given him; forbeing probably annoyed by the sun, whose beams fell vertically on hishead, he was lying cozily in the shade of a stall luckily standingopposite the house, and with his musket within reach, was smoking,sleeping, and dreaming, while waiting till his term of duty was over,and a comrade came to take his place.
As this house served at this moment as the abode of Dona Carmela, wewill ask the reader to enter it with us. The maiden, sad and pensive,was reclining in a hammock suspended before a window, open, in spite ofthe heat of the day, and her eyes, red with weeping, were invariablyfixed on the desolate plain, which the sun parched, and whose sandflashed like diamonds. Of what was the poor girl thinking, while thetears she did not dream of wiping away, coursed down her pallid cheeks,where they traced a furrow?
Perhaps at this age, when recollections do not go back beyond yesterday,she remembered in bitterness of spirit the happy days of the Venta delPotrero, where with Tranquil and Lanzi, those two devoted hearts toprotect her, all smiled upon her, and the future appeared to her sogentle and calm. Perhaps, too, she thought of the Jaguar, for whom shefelt such friendship, or of Colonel Melendez, whose respectful andprofound love had made her so often dream involuntarily, in the waymaidens dream.
But, alas! all this had now faded away; farewell to the exquisitedreams! Where were Tranquil and Lanzi, the Jaguar and Colonel Melendez?She was alone, unfriended, and defenceless, in the power of a man themere sight of whom filled her with terror. And yet, let us add, the manwhom we have represented under such gloomy colours, this White Scalper,seemed to have become completely metamorphosed. The tiger had become alamb in the presence of the maiden, he offered her the most delicateattentions, and did everything she wished--not that she ever expressed adesire, for the poor girl would not have dared to have done so, but hestrove to divine what might please her, and then did it with unexampledeagerness. At times he would stand for hours before her, leaning againsta wall, with his eyes fixed on her with an undefinable expression,without uttering a word. Then he would withdraw with a shake of thehead, stifle a sigh, and murmur--"Good God! If it were she!" There wassomething touching in the timid and humble grief of this terrible man,who made all tremble around him, and yet himself trembled before a girl;although Dona Carmela, unaffected by the egotism of suffering persons,did not seem to perceive the influence she exercised over this powerfuland stern nature.
The door opened, and White Scalper entered. He was still dressed in thesame garb, he was still as upright, but his face no longer wore thatexpression of haughty and implacable ferocity which we have seen on it.A cloud of sorrow was spread over his features, and his deep sunken eyeshad lost that fire which had given his glance so strange and magnetic afixity. The maiden did not turn at the sound of the Scalper's footsteps:the latter halted, and for a long time remained motionless, waiting,doubtless, till she would notice his presence. But the girl did notstir, and hence he resolved to speak.
"Dona Carmela!" he said in a voice whose roughness he tried to smooth.
She made no reply, but continued to gaze out on the plain. The Scalpersighed, and then said in a louder key:
"Dona Carmela!"
This time the maiden heard him, for a nervous tremor agitated her, andshe turned quickly round.
"What do you want with me?" she asked.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, on perceiving her face bathed in tears, "you areweeping."
The maiden blushed and passed her handkerchief over her face with afeverish gesture.
"What matter?" she muttered, and then, striving to recover herself, sheasked, "What do you want with me, senor? Heavens, since I am condemnedto be your slave, could you not at any rate allow me the free enjoymentof this room?"
"I thought I should cause you pleasure," he said, "by announcing to youthe visit of an acquaintance."
A bitter smile contracted the maiden's lips.
"Who cares for me?" she said with a sigh.
"Pardon me, Senorita, my intention was kind. Frequently, while you sitpensively as y
ou are doing today, unconnected words and names havepassed your lips."
"Ah! That is true," she answered; "not only is my person captive, butyou will also like to enchain my thoughts."
This sentence was uttered with such an accent of concentrated anger andbitterness, that the old man started, and a livid pallor suddenlycovered his face.
"It is well, Senor," the girl continued, "for the future I will be on myguard."
"I believed, I repeat," he replied with an accent of concentrated scorn,"that I should render you happy by bringing to you Colonel Melendez; butsince I am mistaken, you shall not see him, Senorita."
"What!" she exclaimed, bounding up like a lioness; "What did you say,Senor? What name did you pronounce?"
"That of Colonel Melendez."
"Have you summoned him?"
"Yes."
"Is he here?"
"He is awaiting your permission to enter."
The maiden gazed at him for a moment with an indescribable expression ofamazement.
"Why, you must love me!" she at length burst forth.
"She asks that question!" the old man murmured sadly. "Will you see theColonel?"
"One moment, oh, one moment; I want to know you, to understand you, andlearn what I ought to think of you."
"Alas, I repeat to you, senorita, that I love you, love you toadoration; oh! Do not feel alarmed; that love has nothing of aninsulting nature: what I love in you is an extraordinary, supernaturallikeness to a woman who died, alas! On the same day that when mydaughter was torn from me by the Indians. The daughter I lost, whom Ishall never see again, would be your age, senorita: such is the secretof my love for you, of my repeated attempts to seize your person. Oh,let me love you, and deceive myself; in looking at you I fancy I see mypoor dear child, and that error renders me so happy. Oh senorita! If youonly knew what I have suffered, what I still suffer, from this miserablewound which burns my heart--oh! You would have pity on me."
While the old man spoke with an impassioned accent, his face was almosttransfigured; it had assumed such an expression of tenderness andsorrow, that the maiden felt affected, and by an involuntary impulseoffered him her hand.
"Poor father!" she said to him in a gentle and pitiful voice.
"Thanks for that word," he replied in a voice choking with emotion,while his face was inundated with tears; "thanks, senorita, I feel lessunhappy now."
Then, after a moment's silence, he wiped away his tears.
"Do you wish him to come in?" he asked softly.
She smiled: the old man rushed to the door and threw it wide open. TheColonel entered and ran up to the maiden. White Scalper went out andclosed the door after him.
"At last," the Colonel exclaimed joyously, "I have found you again, dearCarmela!"
"Alas!" she said.
"Yes," he exclaimed with animation, "I understand you, but now you havenothing more to fear; I will free you from the odious yoke thatoppresses you, and tear you from your ravisher."
The maiden softly laid her hand on his arm, and shook her head with anadmirable expression of melancholy.
"I am not a prisoner," she said.
"What?" he exclaimed with the utmost surprise, "Did not this man carryyou off?"
"I do not say that, my friend. I merely say that I am not a prisoner."
"I do not understand you," he remarked.
"Alas, I do not understand myself."
"Then, you think that if you wished to leave this house and follow me tothe camp, this man would not attempt to prevent you?"
"I am convinced of it."
"Then we will start at once, Dona Carmela; I will manage to obtain yourespectable shelter till your father is restored to you."
"No, my friend, I shall not go, I cannot follow you."
"Why, what prevents you?"
"Did I not tell you that I do not understand myself; an hour agone Iwould have followed you gladly, but now I cannot."
"What has happened, then, during that period?"
"Listen, Don Juan, I will be frank with you. I love you, as you know,and shall be happy to be your wife; but if my happiness depended on myleaving this room, I would not do it."
"Pardon what I am going to say, Dona Carmela, but this is madness."
"No it is not, I cannot explain it to you, as I do not understand itmyself; but I feel that if I left this place against the wishes of theman who retains me here, I should commit a bad action."
The Colonel's amazement at these strange words attained such a heightthat he could not find a word to reply, but he looked wildly at themaiden. The man who loves is never mistaken as to the feelings of thewoman he loves. The young man felt instinctively that Carmela wasdirected by her heart in the resolution she had formed. At this momentthe door opened, and White Scalper appeared. His appearance was a greatrelief to the pair, for they were frightfully embarrassed, and the youngman especially understood that this unexpected arrival would be of greathelp to him. There was in the demeanour and manner of the old man adignity which Carmela had never before remarked.
"Pardon me disturbing you," he said, with a kindly accent, that made hishearers start.
"Oh," he continued, pretending to be mistaken as to the impression heproduced; "excuse me, Colonel, for speaking in this way, but I love DonaCarmela so dearly that I love all she loves; though old men areegotistic, as you are aware, I have been busy on your behalf during myabsence."
Carmela and the Colonel looked their amazement. The old man smiled.
"You shall judge for yourselves," he said. "I have just heard, from ascout who has come in, that a reinforcement of Indians has turned ourlines, and joined the enemy, among them being a wood ranger, calledTranquil."
"My father!" Carmela exclaimed, in delight.
"Yes," the Scalper said, suppressing a sigh.
"Oh, pardon me!" the maiden said, as she offered him her hand.
"Poor child! How could I feel angry with you? Must not your heart flystraight to your father?"
The Colonel was utterly astounded.
"This is what I thought," the old man continued. "Senor Melendez willask General Santa Anna's authority to go under a flag of truce to theenemy. He will see Dona Carmela's father, and, after reassuring himabout her safety, if he desire that his daughter should be restored tohim I will take her to him myself."
"But that is impossible!" the maiden quickly exclaimed.
"Why so?"
"Are you not my father's enemy?"
"I was the enemy of the hunter, dear child, but never your father'senemy."
"Senor," the Colonel said, walking a step toward the old man, "forgiveme; up to the present I have misunderstood you, or rather, did not knowyou; you are a man of heart."
"No," he answered; "I am a father who has lost his daughter, and whoconsoles himself by a sweet error;" and he uttered a deep sigh, andadded, "time presses; begone, Colonel, so that you may return all thesooner."
"You are right," the young man said. "Farewell, Carmela, for thepresent."
And, without waiting for the maiden's reply, he rushed out. But whenthe Colonel joined his men again, he learned that the order for theforward march had arrived. He was obliged to obey, and defer his visitto the General for the present.
CHAPTER XXVI.
SAN JACINTO.
The news told White Scalper by the scout was true; Tranquil and hiscomrades, after turning the Mexican lines with that craft characteristicof the Indians, had effected their junction with the Texan army; that isto say, with the vanguard, commanded by the Jaguar. Unfortunately, theyonly found John Davis, who told them that the Jaguar had gone to make animportant communication to General Houston.
If the American had spoken to Tranquil about his daughter, and given himnews of her, he would have been forced to reveal the bargain proposed bythe Chief of the Pirates, and he did not feel justified in divulging asecret of that importance which was not his own. The Canadianconsequently remained ignorant of what was going on, and was far fromsuspecting that hi
s daughter was so near him; besides, the moment was abad one for questioning; the march had begun again; and during a retreatthe officers who command the rearguard have something else to do thantalk.
At sunset the Jaguar rejoined his cuadrilla. He was delighted at thearrival of the Comanches, and warmly pressed Tranquil's hand; but as theorder had been given to advance by forced marches, and the enemy was athand, the young man had no time either to tell his old friend anything.
The General had combined his movement with great cleverness, in orderto draw the enemy after him by constantly refusing to fight. TheMexicans, puffed up by their early successes, and burning with thedesire to crush what they called a revolt, did not require to be excitedto pursue their unseizable enemy.
The retreat and pursuit continued thus for three days, when the Texanssuddenly wheeled, and advanced resolutely to meet the Mexicans. Thelatter, surprised by this sudden return, which they were far fromexpecting, halted with some hesitation, and formed their line of battle.
It was the twenty-first of August, 1836, a day ever memorable in theannals of Texas. The two armies were at length face to face on theplains of San Jacinto, and were commanded in person by the chiefs oftheir respective republics, Generals Santa Anna and Houston. TheMexicans numbered seventeen hundred well armed, veteran soldiers; theTexans amounted to only seven hundred and eighty-three, of whomsixty-one were cavalry.
General Houston had been compelled, on the previous evening, to detachthe Jaguar's cuadrilla, which the Comanches and the hunters had joined;for, contrary to Sandoval's expectations, his men had refused to ratifythe bargain he had made in their names with the Jaguar. Not that theywere actuated by any patriotic feeling, we are bound to state, butmerely because they had come across a hacienda, which seemed to offerthem the prospect of splendid plunder. Hence, without caring for eitherparty, they had shut themselves up in the hacienda, and refused to quitit, in spite of the entreaties and threats of the Chief, who, seeingthat they had made up their minds, at length followed their example. TheJaguar was therefore detached by the General to dislodge these dangerousvisitors, and the young man obeyed, though, unwillingly, for he foresawthat he should miss the battle.
General Houston gave Colonel Lamar, who was at a later date President ofTexas, the command of the sixty horsemen left him, and resolutelyprepared for action, in spite of the numerical disproportion of hisforces. The two armies, whose struggle would decide the fate of acountry, were hardly as numerous as a French regiment. At sunrise thebattle commenced with extreme fury. The Texans, formed in square,advanced silently, within musket shot of the enemy.
"Boys!" General Houston suddenly shouted, as he drew his sword, "Boys!REMEMBER THE ALAMO!"
A terrible fire answered him, and the Texans rushed on the enemy, whowere already wavering. The battle lasted eighteen minutes! At theexpiration of that time, the Mexicans were broken, and in full flight;their flags, their camp, with arms, baggage, provisions, and equipage,fell into the hands of the victors. Considering the limited number ofcombatants, the carnage was immense, for six hundred Mexicans, includinga General and four Colonels, were killed, two hundred and eighty-threewounded, and seven hundred made prisoners; only sixty men, among thembeing Santa Anna, succeeded in effecting their escape.
As for the Texans, owing to the impetuosity of their attack, they hadonly two men killed and twenty-three wounded, though six of these diedafterwards--an insignificant loss, which proves once again, thesuperiority of resolution over hesitation, for most of the Mexicans werekilled during the rout.
The Texans slept in the field of battle. General Houston, when sendingoff the Jaguar against the pirates, had said to him:--
"Finish with those villains speedily, and perhaps you will return intime for the battle."
These words were sufficient to give the Chief of the partisans wings;still, however great his speed might be, night surprised him, when stillten leagues from the hacienda, and he was compelled to halt, for bothmen and horses were utterly worn out. On the morrow, at the moment whenhe was about to start again, he received news of the battle of theprevious day, in a very singular manner.
John Davis, while prowling among the chaparral according to his wont,discovered a man hidden in the tall grass, who was trembling all over.The American, taking him naturally enough for a Mexican spy, ordered himto get up. The man then fell on his knees, _kissed his hands_, andimplored him to let him go, offering him all the gold and jewels he hadabout him. These supplications and intreaties produced no other effecton the American than converting his suspicions into certainty.
"Come, come," he said roughly to his prisoner, as he cocked a pistol,"enough of this folly; go on before me, or I will blow out your brains."
The sight of the weapon produced all the effect desired on the stranger,he bowed his head piteously, and followed his captor to the bivouac,with no further attempts to seduce him.
"Who the deuce have you brought us?" the Jaguar asked sharply.
"On my word," the American answered, "I do not know. He's a scamp Ifound in the tall grass, who looks to me precious like a spy."
"Ah, ah!" the Jaguar said with an ugly smile, "His business will soon besettled: have him shot."
The prisoner started, and his face assumed an earthy hue.
"One moment, Caballeros," he exclaimed, while struggling in the utmostterror with the men who had already seized him--"one moment; I am notwhat you suppose."
"Nonsense," the Jaguar said with a grin, "you are a Mexican, and that issufficient."
"I am," the prisoner exclaimed, "Don Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna,President of the Mexican Republic."
"What?" the Jaguar exclaimed in amazement, "You are Santa Anna."
"Alas! Yes," the President answered, piteously, for it was really he.
"What were you doing concealed in the grass?"
"I was trying to fly."
"Then you have been defeated?"
"Oh, yes! My army is destroyed. Oh, your General is not born for commonthings, for he has had the glory of conquering the _Napoleon of theWest_."[1]
At this absurd claim, especially in the mouth of such a man, hishearers, in spite of the respect due to misfortune, could not refrainfrom bursting into a loud and contemptuous laugh. To this manifestationthe haughty Mexican was completely insensible; for, now that he wasrecognized, he felt sure of not being shot--he cared little for allelse. The Jaguar wrote to General Houston, describing the facts, andsent off the prisoner to him, under the escort of twenty men, commandedby John Davis, to whom this honour belonged by right, as he had been thefirst to discover the prisoner.
"Well," the Jaguar muttered, as he looked after the escort along thewinding road, "fortune does not favour me--I succeed in nothing."
"Ingrate that you are!" Loyal Heart said to him; "To complain when themost glorious trophy of the victory was reserved to you; through thecapture of that prisoner, the war is over, and the Independence of Texasassured for ever."
"That is true," the Jaguar shouted, as he leapt with joy; "I did notthink of that. Viva Dios! You are right, my friend, and I thank you forhaving put me on the track. By Jove! I should not have thought of thatwithout you. Come, come," he gently exclaimed, "let us be off to thehacienda, comrades! We shall deal the last blow!"
The cuadrilla started under the guidance of its Chief; we will leave theadventurers to follow their road, and preceding them for a few moments,enter the hacienda.
The pirates, according to the custom of people of that stamp, hadimmediately made themselves at home in the hacienda, whose owner hadfled on seeing the approach of war, and from which Sandoval and his menexpelled the peons and servants. The pillage was immediately organizedon a great scale, and they had naturally begun with the cellars, that isto say, with the French and Spanish wines and strong liquors, so thattwo hours after their arrival, all the villains were as full as butts,and yells and songs rose from all sides.
Naturally the White Scalper had been compelled to follow the pirates,and carry Car
mela with him. In spite of the precautions taken by the oldman, the maiden heard from the chambers in which she sought shelter thecries of these raging fellows which reached her, threatening andsinister as the rolling of thunder in a tempest. Sandoval had notrenounced his plan of revenging himself on the man he regarded as hisenemy, and the intoxication of his men seemed to him an excellentopportunity for getting rid of him.
White Scalper tried by all the means in his power to oppose thisgigantic orgy, for he knew that these rough and rebellious men, verydifficult to govern when sober, became utterly undisciplined so soon asintoxication got hold of them. But the pirates had already tasted thewines and spirits, and, excited by Sandoval, they only answered theScalper's representations with murmurs and insults. The latter,despairing of making them listen to reason, and wishing to spare themaiden the odious and disgusting spectacle of an orgie, hastened toreturn to her, and after trying to calm her, he stationed himself beforethe door of the room that served as her refuge, resolved to smash thefirst pirate who attempted to approach her.
Several hours passed, and no one thought about disturbing the old man.He was beginning to hope that all would pass over quietly, when hesuddenly heard a great noise, followed by yells and oaths, and a dozenpirates appeared at the entrance of the long corridor at the end ofwhich he was standing sentry, brandishing their weapons and utteringthreats. At the sight of these furious men, whom intoxication rendereddeaf to all remonstrances, the old man understood that a terrible anddeadly struggle was about to begin between them and him. He was aloneagainst all, but yet he did not despair; a sinister light gleamed in hiseye, his eyebrows met under the might of an implacable will; he drewhimself up to his full height before the door he had sworn to defend,and in an instant became once more the ferocious and terrible demon whohad so long been the terror of the Western countries.
However, the Scalper's position was not so desperate as it might appear.Foreseeing all that occurred at this moment, he had taken all theprecautions in his power to save the maiden; the window of the room inwhich she was only a couple of feet from the ground, and opened on theyard of the hacienda, where a ready saddled horse was standing, in theevent of flight becoming necessary. After giving Carmela, who waskneeling in the middle of the room and praying fervently, a final hint,the old man prepared to resist his aggressors.
The pirates, at the sight of this man who was awaiting them somenacingly, stopped involuntarily; the front men even took a timidglance back, as if to see whether a chance of retreat were left them;but the passage was interrupted by those who came behind them and thrustthem on. Sandoval, who was well aware with what sort of a man hiscomrades would have to deal, had prudently abstained from showinghimself, and remained with some of his friends in the banqueting hall,drinking and singing.
The delay in the pirates' advance had suggested to the Scalper the ideaof setting the door ajar, so that he might escape with greater facilitywhen the moment arrived. But the period of hesitation did not last asecond; the yells burst forth again louder than before, and the banditsprepared to rush on the old man. The latter was still calm, and cold asa marble statue; he had placed his rifle against the wall, within reach,and stood with his pistols in his hands awaiting the opportunity to deala decisive blow.
"Stop, or I fire!" he shouted, in a thundering voice.
The yells were doubled, and the bandits drew nearer. Two shots werefired, and two men fell; the Scalper discharged his rifle at the mob,then taking it by the barrel and using it like a club, he rushed on thebandits, who were startled by this sudden attack, and ere they coulddream of resistance he drove them to the end of the corridor and downthe stairs. Out of ten pirates six were killed, and four, dangerouslywounded, fled with shrieks of terror.
The Scalper lost no time; bounding like a wild beast, he rushed into theroom, the door of which he closed after him, took in his arms Carmela,who was lying senseless on the floor, leaped out of window, threw thegirl across his saddle bow, and darting on the horse's back he startedacross country with headlong speed. All this took place in less timethan we have required to describe it, and the pirates had not recoveredfrom their terror ere the Scalper had disappeared.
"Viva Dios!" Sandoval shouted, striking the table with his fist; "Shallwe let him escape? To horse, comrades, to horse!"
"To horse!" the bandits yelled, as they rushed to the corrals, wheretheir horses were put up. Ten minutes later the pirates dashed off inpursuit of White Scalper, and the hacienda was thus freed of itsunwelcome guests.
In the meanwhile White Scalper was flying at full speed, withoutfollowing any settled direction; he had only one object, thought, ordesire--to save Carmela. The maiden, revived by the fresh air, wassetting up in the saddle, and, with her arms clasped round the old man'sbody, constantly repeated, in a voice choking with emotion, whilelooking with terror round her:
"Fly, fly! quicker, oh quicker!"
And the horse redoubled its speed, and thus ran with the rapidity of thestag pursued by a pack of hounds. All at once the old man perceived aband of horsemen debouching from a hollow way just ahead of him.
"Courage, Carmela!" he shouted; "We are saved."
"Go on, go on," the maiden replied.
This band was the Jaguar's; the young Chief in his impatience to reachthe hacienda, was galloping a long distance ahead of his men. All atonce he perceived the horseman coming towards him.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, with a feeling of deep hatred; "White Scalper."
He at once stopped his horse, so suddenly that the noble animal all butfell, and raised his rifle.
"Stop, stop, do not fire! In Heaven's name do not fire!" the Canadianshouted, who was spurring his horse and coming up at full speed,followed by Loyal Heart and the main body.
But, before the hunter could reach the Jaguar, the latter, who had notheard, or, probably, had not understood him, pulled the trigger. WhiteScalper, struck in the middle of the chest, rolled in the sand, draggingCarmela down with him in his fall.
"Ah!" Tranquil said, in despair, addressing Loyal Heart, "The unhappyman has killed his father!"
"Silence!" the latter exclaimed, placing his hand on his mouth;"Silence, in Heaven's name!"
The Scalper was not dead, however; the Jaguar approached him, probablyto finish him, but Carmela, who was inspecting his wound, drew herselfup like a lioness and repulsed him with horror.
"Back, assassin!" she shrieked.
In spite of himself the young man recoiled, astonished and confounded.Tranquil rushed toward the wounded man, while Loyal Heart took hold ofthe Jaguar, and speaking gently to him, led him from the spot whereWhite Scalper was writhing in agony. The old man held the maiden'shands in his own, which were already bathed in a death sweat.
"Carmela, poor Carmela!" he said to her, in a broken voice; "Oh, Heaven,what will become of you now that I am dying."
"No, no, it is not possible, you will not die," the girl exclaimed,stifling her sobs.
The old man smiled sadly.
"Alas, poor child!" he had said, "I have but a few moments to live; whowill protect you when I am gone?"
"I!" said the hunter, who had come up.
"You!" the wounded man replied; "you, her father?"
"No, her friend," the hunter remarked, with a melancholy accent, anddrawing from his bosom the necklace Quoniam had torn from the Scalperduring the fight in Galveston Bay, he said with supreme majesty, "JamesWatt,[2] embrace your daughter; Carmela, embrace your father."
"Oh!" the wounded man exclaimed, "My heart did not deceive me, then?"
"My father, my father, bless me!" the maiden murmured, falling on herknees.
White Scalper, or Major Watt, drew himself up as if he had received anelectric shock, and laid his hands on the head of the kneeling girl.
"Bless you, my child!" he said; then after a moment of silence, hemuttered in an almost indistinct voice, "I had a son too."
"He is dead," the hunter answered, as he looked sorrowfully at theJaguar.
"M
ay Heaven pardon him!" the old man muttered. And falling back, hebreathed his last sigh.
"My friend," Carmela said to the hunter, "you, whom I no longer dare tocall my father, what do you order me to do in the presence of thiscorpse?"
"Live!" the Canadian answered hoarsely, as he pointed to a horseman whowas coming up at full speed, "for you love and are beloved; life isscarce beginning for you, and you may still be happy."
The rider was Colonel Melendez.
Carmela let her head fall in her hands, and burst into tears.
* * * * *
During my last visit to Texas, I had the honour of being presented toDona Carmela, then married to Colonel Melendez, who retired from theservice after the battle of San Jacinto.
Tranquil lived with them, but Loyal Heart had returned to the desert.The Jaguar, after the events we have described, resumed his adventurouslife, and a year had scarce elapsed ere his death was heard of.Surprised by Apache Indians, from whom he might easily have escaped, heinsisted on fighting them, and was massacred by these pitiless enemiesof the white race.
Did the Jaguar know that he had killed his father, or was it his despairat seeing his love despised by Carmela, that determined him to seekdeath?
That remained a mystery which no one was ever able to solve. Let us hopethat a merciful and just God pardoned this son his involuntaryparricide!
[1] The sentence is literally true, but was said by Santa Anna toHouston himself.
[2] See Border Rifles, same publishers.
THE END.
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