CHAPTER XXXVI.

  THE LAST REFUGE.

  We must now return to Red Cedar. When the squatter heard the yells ofthe redskins, and saw their torches flashing through the trees in thedistance, he at the first start of terror thought himself lost, andburying his head in his hands, he would have fallen to the ground, hadnot Fray Ambrosio caught hold of him just in time.

  "Demonios!" the monk exclaimed, "take care, gossip, gestures aredangerous here."

  But the bandit's despondency lasted no longer than a flash of lightning;he drew himself up again, almost as haughty as he had been previously,saying in a firm voice--"I will escape."

  "Bravely spoken, gossip," the monk said; "but we must act."

  "Forward!" the squatter howled.

  "What do you mean?" the monk cried, with a start of terror; "why, thatleads to the redskins' camp."

  "Forward, I tell you."

  "Very good, and may the devil protect us!" Fray Ambrosio muttered.

  The squatter, as he said, marched boldly toward the camp; they soonreached the spot where they let down a lasso for Nathan, and which theyhad beaten a retreat from in their first movement of terror. On reachingit, the squatter parted the branches, and looked down. All the camp wasaroused; Indians could be seen running about in all directions.

  "Oh," Red Cedar muttered, "I hoped all these demons would start inpursuit of us; it is impossible to cross there."

  "We cannot think of it," said Nathan, "we should be hopelessly lost."

  "Let us do something," said the monk.

  Ellen, exhausted with fatigue, seated herself on a branch, and herfather gazed at her in despair.

  "Poor child," he said, in a low voice, "how she suffers!"

  "Do not think about me, father," she said; "save yourself, and leave mehere."

  "Leave you!" he cried, savagely; "never! Not if I died; no, no, I willsave you."

  "What have I to fear from these men, to whom I never did any harm?" shecontinued; "they will have pity on my weakness."

  Red Cedar burst into an ironical laugh. "Ask the jaguars if they pitythe antelopes," he said. "You do not know the savages, poor child. Theywould torture you to death with ferocious joy."

  Ellen sighed, and let her head droop.

  "Time is slipping away; let us decide on something," the monk repeated.

  "Go to the demon!" the squatter said brutally; "You are my evil genius."

  "How ungrateful men are!" the monk said, ironically, as he raised hishypocritical eyes to Heaven; "I, who am his dearest friend."

  "Enough," Red Cedar said, furiously; "we cannot remain here, so let usgo back."

  "What, again?"

  "Do you know any other road, demon?"

  "Where is Nathan?" the squatter suddenly asked; "has he fallen off?"

  "Not such a fool," the young man said, with a laugh; "but I have changedmy dress."

  He parted the leaves that hid him, and his comrades gave a cry ofsurprise. Nathan was clothed in a bearskin, and carried the head in hishand.

  "Oh, oh!" said Red Cedar, "That is a lucky find; where did you stealthat, lad?"

  "I only had the trouble to take it off the branch where it was hung todry."

  "Take care of it, for it may be of use ere long."

  "That is what I thought."

  After taking a few steps, Red Cedar stopped, stretched out his arm towarn his comrades, and listened. After two or three minutes, he turnedto his comrades and whispered--"Our retreat is cut off; people arewalking on the trees, I heard branches creaking and leaves rustling."

  They gazed at each other in terror.

  "We will not despair," he went on, quickly, "all is not yet lost; let usgo higher, and on one side, till they have passed; during that time,Nathan will amuse them; the Comanches rarely do an injury to a bear."

  No one made any objection, so Sutter started first, and the monkfollowed. Ellen looked at her father sorrowfully. "I care not," shesaid.

  "I say again, I will save you, child," he replied with great tenderness.

  He took the maiden in his powerful arms, and laid her softly on hisshoulder.

  "Hold on," he muttered, "and fear nothing."

  Then, with a dexterity and strength doubled by a father's love, thebandit seized the bough over his head with one hand, and disappeared inthe foliage, after saying to his son: "Look out, Nathan, play your partcleverly, lad, our safety depends on you."

  "Don't be frightened, old one," the young man replied, as he put on thebear's head; "I am not more stupid than an Indian; they will take me fortheir cousin."

  We know what happened, and how this trick, at first so successful, wasfoiled by Curumilla. On seeing his son fall, the squatter wasmomentarily affected by a blind rage, and pointed his rifle at theIndian. Fortunately the monk saw the imprudent gesture soon enough tocheck him. "What are you about?" he hoarsely whispered, as he struck upthe barrel; "you will destroy your daughter."

  "That is true," the squatter muttered.

  Ellen, by an extraordinary hazard, had seen nothing; had she done so, itis probable that her brother's death would have drawn from her a cry ofagony, which must have denounced her companions.

  "Oh," Red Cedar said, "still that accursed Trail-hunter and his devil ofan Indian. They alone can conquer me."

  The fugitives remained for an hour in a state of terrible alarm, notdaring to stir, through fear of being discovered. They were so close totheir pursuers that they distinctly heard what they said, but at lengththe speakers retired, the torches were put out, and all became silentagain.

  "Ouf!" said the monk, "they have gone.

  "Not all," the squatter answered; "did you not hear that accursedValentine?"

  "That is true; our retreat is still cut off."

  "We must not despair yet; for the present we have nothing to fear here;rest a little while, while I go on the search."

  "Hum!" Fray Ambrosio muttered; "why not go all together? That would bemore prudent, I think."

  Red Cedar laughed bitterly. "Listen, gossip," he said to the monk, as heseized his arm, which he pressed like a vice: "you distrust me, and youare wrong. I wished once to leave you, I allow, but I no longer wish it.We will perish or escape together."

  "Oh, oh! Are you speaking seriously, gossip?"

  "Yes; for, trusting to the foolish promises of a priest, I resolved toreform; I altered my life, and led a painful existence; not injuringanybody, and toiling honestly. The men I wished to forget remembered mein their thirst for revenge. Paying no heed to my wish to repent, theyfired my wretched jacal and killed my son. Now they track me like a wildbeast, the old instincts are aroused in me, and the evil leaven thatslept in my heart is fermenting afresh. They have declared a war to thedeath. Well, by heaven, I accept it, and will wage it without pity,truce, or mercy, not asking of them, if they captured me, less than Iwould give them if they fell into my hands. Let them take care, for I amRed Cedar! He whom the Indians call the _Man-eater_ (Witchasta Joute)and I will devour their hearts. So, at present, be at your ease, monk,we shall not part again: you are my conscience--we are inseparable."

  The squatter uttered those atrocious words with such an accent of rageand hatred, that the monk saw he really spoke the truth, and his evilinstincts had definitively gained the upper hand. A hideous smile of joycurled his lips. "Well, gossip," he said, "go and look out, we willawait you here."

  During the squatter's absence not a word was uttered. Sutter was asleep,the monk thinking, and Ellen weeping. The poor girl had heard withsorrow mingled with horror her father's atrocious sentiments. She thenmeasured the fearful depth of the abyss into which she was suddenlyhurled, for Red Cedar's determination cut her off eternally fromsociety, and condemned her to a life of grief and tears. After about anhour's absence Red Cedar re-appeared, and the expression of his face wasjoyous.

  "Well?" the monk anxiously asked him.

  "Good news," he replied; "I have discovered a refuge where I defy thecleverest bloodhounds of the prairies to track me.
"

  "Is it far from here?"

  "A very little distance; but that will prove our security. Our enemieswill never suppose we had the impudence to hide so close to them."

  "That is true; we will go there, then."

  "When you please."

  "At once."

  Red Cedar told the truth. He had really discovered a refuge, whichoffered a very desirable guarantee of security. Had we not ourselveswitnessed a similar thing in the Far West, we should not put faith inthe possibility of such a hiding place. After going about one hundredand fifty yards, the squatter stopped before an enormous oak that haddied of old age, and whose interior was hollow.

  "It is here," he said, cautiously parting the mass of leaves, branches,and creepers that completely concealed the cavity.

  "Hum!" the monk said, as he peered down into the hole, which was dark aspitch; "Have we got to go down there?"

  "Yes," Red Cedar replied; "but reassure yourself, it is not very deep."

  In spite of this assurance the monk still hesitated.

  "Take it or leave it," the squatter went on; "do you prefer beingcaptured?"

  "But we shall not be able to stir down there?"

  "Look around you."

  "I am looking."

  "Do you perceive that the mountain is perpendicular here?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "Good; we are on the edge of the precipice which poor Nathan told usof."

  "Ah!"

  "Yes; you see that this dead tree seems, as it were, welded to themountain?"

  "That is true. I did not notice it at first."

  "Well; going down that cavity, for fifteen feet at the most, you willfind another which passes the back of the tree, and communicates with acavern."

  "Oh!" the monk exclaimed gleefully, "How did you discover this hidingplace?"

  The squatter sighed. "It was long ago," he said.

  "Stay," Fray Ambrosio objected; "others may know it beside yourself."

  "No," he answered, shaking his head; "only one man knows it besidemyself, and his discovery cost him his life."

  "That is reassuring."

  "No hunter or trapper ever comes this way, for it is a precipice; if wewere to take a few steps further in that direction, we should findourselves suspended over an abyss of unknown depth, one of the sides ofwhich this mountain forms. However, to quiet your fears, I will go downfirst."

  Red Cedar threw into the gaping hollow a few pieces of candlewood he hadprocured; he put his rifle on his back, and, hanging by his hands, lethimself down to the bottom of the tree, Sutter and the monk curiouslywatching him. The squatter struck a light, lit one of the torches, andwaved it about his head; the monk then perceived that the old scalphunter had spoken the truth. Red Cedar entered the cavern, in the floorof which he stuck his torch, so that the hollow was illumined, then cameout and rejoined his friends by the aid of his lasso.

  "Well," he said to them, "what do you think of that?"

  "We shall be famous there," the monk answered.

  Without further hesitation he slipped into the tree and disappeared inthe grotto. Sutter followed his example, but remained at the bottom ofthe tree to help his sister down. The maiden appeared no longerconscious of what was going on around her. Kind and docile as ever, sheacted with automatic precision, not trying to understand why she did onething more than another; her father's words had struck her heart, andbroken every spring of her will. When her father let her down the tree,she mechanically followed her brother into the cave.

  When left alone, the squatter removed with minute care any traces whichmight have revealed to his enemies' sharp eyes the direction in which hehad gone; and when he felt certain that nothing would denounce him, heentered the cave in his turn.

  The bandits' first care was to inspect their domain, and they found itwas immense. The cavern ran for a considerable distance under themountain; it was divided into several branches and floors, some of whichran up to the top of the mountain, while others buried themselves in theground; a subterranean lake, the reservoir of some nameless river,extended for an immense distance under a low arch, all black with bats.

  The cavern had several issues in diametrically opposite directions; andthey were so well hidden, that it was impossible to notice them outside.Only one thing alarmed the adventurers, and that was the chances ofprocuring food; but to that Red Cedar replied that nothing was easierthan to set traps, or even hunt on the mountain.

  Ellen had fallen into a broken sleep on a bed of furs her father hadhastily prepared for her. The wretched girl had so suffered and enduredsuch fatigue during the last few days, that she literally could notstand on her feet. When the three men had inspected the cave, theyreturned and sat down by her side; Red Cedar looked at her sleeping withan expression of infinite tenderness; he was too fond of his daughternot to pity her, and think with grief of the fearful destiny thatawaited her by his side; unhappily, any remedy was impossible. FrayAmbrosio, whose mind was always busy, drew the squatter from hisreverie.

  "Well, gossip," he said, "I suppose we are condemned to spend some timehere?"

  "Until our pursuers, tired of seeking us in vain, at length determine togo off."

  "They may be long; hence, for the greater secrecy, I propose one thing."

  "What is it?"

  "There are blocks of stone here which time has detached from the roof;before we go to sleep, I propose that we roll three or four of thelargest into the hole by which we entered."

  "Why so?" the squatter asked abruptly.

  "In our present position two precautions are better than one; theIndians are such cunning demons, that they are capable of coming downthe tree."

  "The padre is right, old one," Sutter, who was half asleep, said; "it isno great task to roll the stones; but in that way we shall be easy inour minds."

  "Do what you like," the squatter answered, still continuing to gaze onhis daughter.

  The two men, with their chief's approval, rose to carry out their plan,and half an hour later the hole was so artistically closed up, that noone would have suspected it had he not known it before.

  "Now we can sleep, at any rate," said Fray Ambrosio.