CHAPTER XXV.

  A GAME AT HAZARD.

  "Before explaining my plan to you," Red Cedar went on, "I must tell youwhat our position really is, so that when I have described the means Iwish to employ, you can decide with a full knowledge of the facts."

  His hearers gave a nod of assent, but no one made an answer.

  The squatter continued--

  "We are surrounded on three sides: firstly, by the Comanches, next byBloodson's rangers, and lastly by the French hunter and his friends.Weakened as we are by the terrible privations we have suffered since wecame into the mountains, any contest is impossible; we must, therefore,give up all hope of opening a passage by force."

  "What is to be done, then?" the monk asked; "it is plain that we mustescape, and each second that slips away renders our prospects worse."

  "I am as fully convinced of that as you can be. My absence today had adouble object; the first was to obtain provisions, in which, as you see,I succeeded--"

  "That is true."

  "Secondly, to reconnoitre carefully the positions held by our enemies."

  "Well?" they asked anxiously.

  "I have succeeded. I advanced unnoticed close to their camps; they keepa good watch, and it would be madness to try and pass through them; theyform a wide circle around us, of which we are the centre; this circle isbeing daily contracted, so that in two or three days, perhaps before, weshall find ourselves so pressed that it will be impossible to hideourselves, and we must fall into their hands."

  "Demonios!" Fray Ambrosio exclaimed, "that is anything but a pleasantprospect; we have no mercy to expect from these villains, who will, onthe contrary, find a pleasure in torturing us in every way possible.Hum! the mere thought of falling into their hands makes my flesh creep;I know what the Indians are capable of in torturing, for I have seenthem at work often enough."

  "Very good; I will not press that point then."

  "It would be perfectly useless. You will do better to explain to us theplan you have formed, and which, as you say, can save us."

  "Pardon me! I did not offer you any certainty; I merely said that it hadsome chances of success."

  "We are not in a position to quibble about words; let us have yourscheme."

  "It is this--"

  The three men listened with the deepest attention.

  "It is evident," Red Cedar went on, "that if we remain together, and tryto fly in one direction, we shall be infallibly lost, supposing, as iscertain, that our trail is discovered by our pursuers."

  "Very well," the monk growled; "go ahead; I do not exactly understandwhat you want to come at."

  "I have, therefore, reflected on this inconvenience, and I have formedthe following scheme."

  "Out with it."

  "It is very simple; we will make a double trail."

  "Hum! I suppose you mean, a false and a true one. The plan seems to medefective."

  "Why so? Red Cedar asked with a smile.

  "Because there must be a point where the false trail runs into the realone, and--"

  "You are mistaken, gossip," Red Cedar sharply interrupted him; "bothtrails will be true, otherwise the idea would be absurd."

  "In that case, I do not understand you."

  "You soon will, if you will allow me to speak. One of us will devotehimself to save the others; while we fly in one direction, he will go onanother, trying to draw the enemy on his trail. In this way, he willopen us a passage, through which we shall pass, without beingdiscovered. Do you understand me now?"

  "Caspita! I should think I did--the idea is magnificent," the monkexclaimed enthusiastically.

  "All now wanted is to carry it out."

  "Yes, without any delay."

  "Very good! Who will sacrifice himself to save his comrades?"

  No one answered.

  "What," Red Cedar went on, "are you all silent? Come, Fray Ambrosio, youare a priest, so give us an example."

  "Thank you, gossip, but I never felt any call to martyrdom. I am not atall ambitious."

  "Still, we must get out of this scrape."

  "Caramba! I wish for nothing better; still, I am not desirous that itshould be at the expense of my scalp."

  Red Cedar reflected for an instant. The adventurers looked at himanxiously, waiting till he had found the solution of this difficultproblem. All at once the squatter raised his head.

  "Hum!" he said, "Any discussion would be useless, for you are not themen to be led by your feelings."

  They nodded their assent.

  "This is what we will do; we will draw lots who shall devote himself;the one on whom it devolves will obey without a murmur. Does that suityou?"

  "As we must bring matters to an end," said Nathan, "why, the sooner thebetter; that way is as good as another, so I do not object."

  "Nor I," Sutter remarked.

  "Nonsense!" The monk exclaimed; "I was always lucky at games of chance."

  "It is settled then; you swear that the man on whom the lot falls, willobey without hesitation, and accomplish his task honourably?"

  "We swear it," they said with one voice; "come, Red Cedar, let us haveit over."

  "Yes; but in what way shall we consult chance?" Red Cedar observed.

  "That need not trouble you, gossip," Fray Ambrosio said with a laugh; "Iam a man of caution."

  While speaking thus, the monk fumbled in his vaquera boots, and produceda greasy pack of cards.

  "These will do the trick," he went on with a triumphant air. "Thispretty child," he added, turning to Ellen, "will shuffle the cards; oneof us will cut them, and then she will deal the cards one by one, andthe man who has the two of spades will have to make the double trail.Does that suit you?"

  "Admirably," they replied.

  Ellen took the cards from the monk and shuffled them, while a zarape waslaid on the ground by the fire, so that the colour of the cards might bedistinguished by the flame.

  "Cut," she said, placing the pack on the zarape.

  Fray Ambrosio thrust out his hand; but Red Cedar laughingly caught holdof his arm.

  "A moment," he said; "those cards are yours, gossip, and I know yourtalent: permit me to cut."

  "As you please," the monk said with a grimace of disappointment.

  The squatter cut, and Ellen began dealing the cards.

  There was something most strange about the scene. On a gloomy night, inthe heart of this desolate gorge, with the wind moaning through thetrees, these four men bending forward, anxiously watching thepale-browed girl, who, by the capricious and changing glare of the fire,seemed performing a cabalistic work, and the sinister looks of thesemen, staking their lives at this moment on a card--assuredly, a strangerwho could have watched the extraordinary spectacle, himself unseen,would have fancied it an hallucination of the brain.

  With frowning brows, pale faces, and heaving chests, they followed witha feverish glance each card as it fell, wiping away at intervals thecold perspiration that beaded on their temples. The cards still fell,but the two of spades had not yet appeared; Ellen had not more than tencards left in her hand.

  "Ouf!" the monk said, "It is a long job."

  "Bah!" Red Cedar said with a grin; "perhaps you will find it too short."

  "It is I," Nathan said in a choking voice. In fact, the two of spadesfell to him, and all breathed freely again.

  "Well," the monk said, as he tapped him on the shoulder, "I congratulateyou, my friend Nathan: you have a glorious mission."

  "Will you undertake it in my stead?" the other remarked with a grin.

  "I would not deprive you of the honour of saving us," Fray Ambrosio saidwith magnificent coolness.

  Nathan gave him a look of pity, shrugged his shoulders, and turned hisback on him. Fray Ambrosio collected the cards, and replaced them in hisboot with evident satisfaction.

  "Hum!" he muttered, "They may still be of service; we cannot tell inwhat circumstances chance may place us."

  After this philosophic reflection, the monk, cheered up by the
certaintyof not being obliged to sacrifice himself for his friends, quietly satdown again by the fire. In the meanwhile, Red Cedar, who did not let outof sight the execution of his plan, had placed some lumps of meat on thefire, that his companions might acquire the necessary strength for thefatigues they would have to endure.

  As usually happens under similar circumstances, the meal was silent;each, absorbed in his thoughts, ate rapidly without thinking of keepingup idle conversation. It was about five in the morning, and the sky wasbeginning to assume those opaline tints which summoned daybreak. RedCedar rose, and the rest imitated him.

  "Come, lad," he said to Nathan, "are you ready? The hour has arrived."

  "I will start whenever you please, father," the young man answered,resolutely. "I am only awaiting your final instructions, that I may knowthe directions I have to follow, and at what place I shall find youagain, if, as is not very likely, I have the luck to escape safe andsound."

  "My instructions will not be lengthy, my lad. You must go north-west, asthat is the shortest road to leave these accursed mountains. If you canreach the high road to Independence, you are saved; thence it will beeasy for you to reach in a short time the cavern of our old comrades,where you will hide yourself while waiting for us. I recommend youspecially to hide your trail as well as you can. We have to deal withthe craftiest men on the prairie; an easy trail would arouse theirsuspicions, and our design would be entirely foiled. You understand me,I think?"

  "Perfectly."

  "For the rest, I trust to you; you know desert life too well to behumbugged; you have a good rifle, powder, and bullets. I wish you luck,lad! But do not forget that you have to draw our enemies after you."

  "Do not be frightened," Nathan replied, roughly, "I am no fool."

  "That is true; take a lump of meat, and good-bye."

  "Good-bye, and the devil take you but watch over my sister; I careprecious little for your old carcass, so long as the girl runs nodanger."

  "All right," the squatter said, "We will do what is needful to protectyour sister, so do not trouble yourself about her; come, be off."

  Nathan embraced Ellen, who affectionately pressed his hand, as she wipedaway her tears.

  "Don't cry, Ellen," he said hoarsely; "a man's life is nothing afterall; don't bother yourself about me--the devil will look after hisfriends."

  After uttering the words in a tone which he tried in vain to rendercareless, the young savage threw his rifle on his back, hung a piece ofmeat to his girdle, and went off hurriedly, not turning round once. Fiveminutes later, he disappeared in the chaparral.

  "Poor brother!" Ellen murmured, "he is going to a certain death."

  "Well," Red Cedar said, with a shrug of his shoulders, "we are all goingto death, and each step unconsciously brings us nearer to it: what useis it feeling sorry about the fate that threatens him; do we know whatawaits ourselves? We are not lying on a bed of roses. My child, I warnyou, that we shall require all, our skill and sagacity to get out of it,for I cannot calculate on a miracle occurring."

  "That is far more prudent," Fray, Ambrosio said, cunningly; "besides, itis written somewhere, I forget where, 'Help yourself, and heaven willhelp you.'"

  "Yes," the squatter replied, with a grin, "and there never was a fineropportunity for putting the precept in practice."

  "I think so, and am waiting for you to explain to us what we have todo."

  Without answering the monk, Red Cedar turned to his daughter.

  "Ellen, my child," he asked her, in an affectionate voice, "do you feelstrong enough to follow us?"

  "Do not trouble yourself about me, father," she replied; "wherever youpass, I will pass: you know that I have been accustomed to the desertfrom my childhood."

  "That is true," Red Cedar remarked doubtfully: "but this is the firsttime you have tried the mode of travelling we shall be obliged to adopt."

  "What do you mean? People travel on foot, horseback, or in a boat. Wehave moved about in one of those fashions twenty times before."

  "You are right; but now we are constrained by circumstances to modifyour mode of marching. We have no horses, no river, and our enemies holdthe ground."

  "In that case," the monk exclaimed with a grin, "we will imitate thebirds, and fly through the air."

  Red Cedar, looked at him earnestly.

  "You have nearly guessed it," he said.

  "What?" the monk remarked, "you are making fun of us, Red Cedar. Do youthink this the proper moment for jesting?"

  "I am not naturally inclined to jesting," the squatter coldly replied,"and at this moment less than ever. We shall not fly like the birds,because we have no wings; but for all that, we will make our journey inthe air, in this way. Look around you; on the sides of the mountainsextend immense virgin forests, in which our enemies are concealed. Theyare coming on quietly, carefully picking out every sign of our passingthey can discover."

  "Well?" the monk asked.

  "While they are seeking our trail on the ground, we will slip throughtheir hands like serpents, passing from tree to tree, from branch tobranch, thirty yards above their heads, and they not dreaming of lookingup, which would, indeed, be useless, for the foliage is too dense, thecreepers too close for them to discover us. And then, again, this chanceof safety, though very slight, is the only one left us. Have you thecourage to try it?"

  There was a momentary silence. At length the monk took the squatter'shand, and shook it heartily.

  "Canarios! Gossip," he said to him, with a species of respect, "you area great man. Forgive my suspicions."

  "You accept, then?"

  "_Caspita!_ You need not ask that. Eagerly, and I swear it, that neversquirrel leaped as I will do."