CHAPTER XXXV.
THE HUNT CONTINUED.
The hunters stood for a moment silent, with their eyes fixed on theirenemy. Unicorn, who doubtless owed Nathan a grudge for the way in whichhe had deceived him by passing for one of his relatives, broke the sortof charm that enthralled them, by drawing his scalping knife and raisingthe poor fellow's hair with uncommon dexterity.
"It is the scalp of a dog of the Long-knives," he said, contemptuouslyas he placed his bleeding trophy in his girdle: "his lying tongue willnever again deceive anybody."
Valentine was deep in thought.
"What are we to do now?" Don Miguel asked.
"_Canelo!_" Don Pablo exclaimed, "That is not difficult to guess,father--start at once in pursuit of Red Cedar."
"What does my brother say?" Unicorn asked, as he turned deferentially toValentine.
The latter raised his head.
"All is over for this night," he replied; "that man was ordered to amuseus while his friends fled. Trying to pursue them at this moment would besignal folly; they have too great a start for us possibly to catch themup, and the night is so black that we should want a sentry on everybranch. We will content ourselves for the present by keeping our lineof scouts as we placed them. At daybreak the council of the tribe willassemble, and decide on the further measures to be taken."
All followed the hunter's advice, and they returned towards the camp,which they reached an hour later. On entering the clearing, Unicorntapped Valentine on the shoulder.
"I have to speak with my brother," he said.
"I am listening to my brother," the hunter replied; "his voice is amusic that always rejoices my heart."
"My brother will be much more rejoiced," the chief answered, smiling,"when he hears what I have to tell him."
"The sachem can only be the bearer of good news to me; what has he totell me?"
"Sunbeam reached the camp today."
Valentine started.
"Was she alone?" he asked, eagerly.
"Alone! She would not have dared to come," the chief remarked, with somehaughtiness.
"That is true," Valentine said, anxiously; "then my mother--"
"The hunter's mother is here; I have given her my calli."
"Thanks, chief," he exclaimed, warmly; "oh! You are truly a brother tome."
"The great pale hunter is a son of the tribe; he is the brother of allof us."
"Oh, my mother, my good mother! How did she come hither? Oh, I must runto see her."
"Here she is," said Curumilla.
The Araucano, at the first word uttered by Unicorn, guessing thepleasure he should cause his friend, had gone, without saying a word, toseek Madame Guillois, whom anxiety kept awake, though she was far fromsuspecting that her son was near her.
"My child!" the worthy woman said, as she pressed him to her heart.
After the first emotion had passed over, Valentine took his mother's armin his, and led her gently back to the calli.
"You are not wise, mother," he said, with an accent of reproach. "Whydid you leave the village? The season is advanced, it is cold, and youdo not know the deadly climate of the prairies; your health is far fromstrong, and I wish you to nurse yourself. I ask you to do so, not foryourself but for me. Alas! What would become of me, were I to lose you!"
"My dear child," the old lady replied, tenderly. "Oh! How happy I am tobe thus loved. What I experience at present amply repays all thesuffering your absence occasioned me. I implore you to let me act as Ilike; at my age, a woman should not calculate on a morrow. I will notseparate far from you again; let me, at any rate, have the happiness ofdying in your arms, if I am not permitted to live."
Valentine regarded his mother attentively. These ill-omened words struckhim to the heart. He was frightened by the expression of her face, whosepallor and extreme tenuity had something fatal about it. Madame Guilloisperceived her son's emotion, and smiled sadly.
"You see," she said, gently, "I shall not be a burden to you long; theLord will soon recall me to him."
"Oh, speak not so, mother. Dismiss those gloomy thoughts. You have, Ihope many a long day to pass by my side."
The old lady shook her head, as aged persons do when they fancythemselves certain of a thing.
"No weak illusions, my son," she said, in a firm voice; "be aman--prepare yourself for a speedy and inevitable separation. Butpromise me one thing."
"Speak, mother."
"Whatever may happen, swear not to send me away from you again."
"Why, mother, you order me to commit a murder. In your present state youcould not lead my mode of life for two days."
"No matter, my son, I will not leave you again: take the oath I demandof you."
"Mother!" he said, hesitating.
"You refuse me, my son!" she exclaimed, in pain.
Valentine felt almost heart-broken; he had not the courage to resistlonger.
"Well," he murmured, sorrowfully, "since you insist, mother, be it so; Iswear that we shall never be separated again."
A flush of pleasure lit up the poor old lady's face, and for a momentshe looked happy.
"Bless you, my son," she said. "You render me very happy by grantingwhat I ask."
"Well," he said, with a stifled sigh, "it is you who wish it, mother:your will be done, and may Heaven not punish me for having obeyed you.Now it is my turn to ask; as henceforth the care of your health concernsme alone."
"What do you want?" she said, with an ineffable smile.
"I wish you to take a few hours' indispensable rest, after your fatiguesof the day."
"And you, dear child?"
"I shall sleep too, mother; for if today has been fatiguing, tomorrowwill be equally so; so rest in peace, and feel no anxiety on myaccount."
Madame Guillois tenderly embraced her son, and threw herself on the bedprepared for her by Sunbeam's care. Valentine then left the calli, andrejoined his friends, who were reposing round a fire lit by Curumilla.Carefully wrapping himself in his buffalo robe he laid on the ground,closed his eyes, and sought sleep--that great consoler of the afflicted,who often call it in vain for a long time ere it deigns to come for afew hours, and enable them to forget their sorrows. He was aroused,towards daybreak, by a hand being softly laid on his shoulder, and avoice timidly murmuring his name. The hunter opened his eyes, and sat upquickly.
"Who goes there?" he said.
"I! White Gazelle."
Valentine, now completely awake, threw off his buffalo robe, got up andshook himself several times.
"I am at your orders," he said. "What do you desire?"
"To ask your advice," she replied.
"Speak: I am listening."
"Last night, while Unicorn and yourself were looking for Red Cedar onone side, Black Cat and I were looking on the other."
"Do you know where he is?" he quickly interrupted her.
"No; but I suspect it."
He gave her a scrutinising glance, which she endured without letting hereyes sink.
"You know that I am now entirely devoted to you," she said, candidly.
"Pardon me--I am wrong: go on, I beg you."
"When I said I wished to ask your advice, I was wrong; I should havesaid I had a prayer to address to you."
"Be assured that if it be possible for me to grant it, I will do sowithout hesitation."
White Gazelle stopped for a moment; then, making an effort over herself,she seemed to form a resolution, and went on:
"You have no personal hatred to Red Cedar?"
"Pardon me. Red Cedar is a villain, who plunged a family I love intomourning and woe: he caused the death of a maiden who was very dear tome, and of a man to whom I was attached by ties of friendship."
White Gazelle gave a start of impatience, which she at once repressed."Then?" she said.
"If he fall into my hands, I will remorselessly kill him."
"Still, there is another person who has had, for many years, terribleinsults to avenge on him."
"Whom do you allude to?"
"Bloodson."
"That is true; he told me he had a fearful account to settle with thisbandit."
"Well," she said quickly, "be kind enough to let my uncle, I meanBloodson, capture Red Cedar."
"Why do you ask this of me?"
"Because the hour has arrived to do so, Don Valentine."
"Explain yourself."
"Ever since the bandit has been confined in the mountains with no hopeof escape; I was ordered by my uncle to ask you to yield this captureto him, when the moment came for it."
"But suppose he let him escape!" said Valentine.
She smiled with an indefinable expression.
"That is impossible," she answered, "you do not know what a twentyyears' hatred is."
She uttered these words with an accent that made the hunter, brave as hewas, tremble.
Valentine, as he said, would have killed Red Cedar without hesitation,like a dog, if chance brought them face to face in a fair fight; but itwas repulsive to his feelings and honour to strike a disarmed foe,however vile and unworthy he might be. While inwardly recognising thenecessity of finishing once for all with that human-faced tiger calledRed Cedar, he was not sorry that another assumed the responsibility ofsuch an act, and constituted himself executioner. White Gazellecarefully watched him, and anxiously followed in his face the variousfeelings that agitated him, trying to guess his resolution.
"Well?" she asked at the end of a moment.
"What is to be done?" he said.
"Leave me to act; draw in the blockading force, so that it would beimpossible for our foe to pass, even if he assumed the shape of aprairie dog, and wait without stirring."
"For long?"
"No; for two days, three at the most; is that too long?"
"Not if you keep your promise."
"I will keep it, or, to speak more correctly, my uncle shall keep it forme."
"That is the same thing."
"No, it is better."
"That is what I meant."
"It is settled, then!"
"One word more. You know how my friend Don Miguel Zarate sufferedthrough Red Cedar, I think?"
"I do."
"You know the villain killed his daughter?"
"Yes," she said, with a tremor in her voice, "I know it; but trust tome; Don Valentine; I swear to you that Don Miguel shall be more fullyavenged than ever he hoped to be."
"Good; if at the end of three days I grant you, justice is not done onthat villain, I will undertake it, and I swear in my turn that it willbe terrible."
"Thanks, Don Valentine, now I will go."
"Where to?"
"To join Bloodson, and carry him your answer."
White Gazelle leaped lightly on her horse, which was fastened readysaddled to a tree, and set off at a gallop, waving her hand to thehunter for the last time in thanks.
"What a singular creature!" Valentine muttered.
As day had dawned during this conversation, the Trail-hunter proceededtoward Unicorn's calli, to assemble the great chiefs in council. So soonas the hunter entered the lodge, Don Pablo, who had hitherto remainedmotionless, pretending to sleep, suddenly rose.
"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed as he clasped his hands fervently. "How tosave poor Ellen? If she falls into the hands of that fury, she is lost."
Then, after a moment's reflection, he ran toward Unicorn's calli:Valentine came out of it at the moment the young man reached the door.
"Where are you going to at that rate, my friend?" he asked him.
"I want a horse."
"A horse?" Valentine said in surprise; "What to do?"
The Mexican gave him a glance of strange meaning.
"To go to Bloodson's camp," he said resolutely.
A sad smile played round the Trail-hunter's lips. He pressed the youngman's hand, saying in a sympathising voice--"Poor lad!"
"Let me go, Valentine, I implore you," he said earnestly.
The hunter unfastened a horse that was nibbling the young tree shoots infront of the lodge. "Go," he said, sadly, "go where your destiny dragsyou."
The young man thanked him warmly, leaped on the horse, and started offat full speed. Valentine looked after him for some time, and when therider had disappeared, he gave vent to a profound sigh, as he murmured:
"He, too, loves--unhappy man!"
And he entered his mother's calli, to give her the morning kiss.