The Queen of the Savannah: A Story of the Mexican War

  CHAPTER XXV.

  THE WOUNDED MAN.

  However eccentric the means employed by the Canadian to regain hisliberty may appear to the reader at the first blush, they had beencarefully meditated. The adventurer had judged the man with whom he hadto deal; he felt convinced that if he allowed him to give the orderfor hanging, it would not be revoked. The game he played in attackingthe general was a bold one; but there are in the world many perversebeings with whom any reasoning is impossible, and with whom knockdownarguments must be employed. The adventurer calculated on the surprise,fear, and perhaps admiration of his enemy to secure his own escape. Hewas not deceived in his calculations, for a good deal of these threefeelings was mixed up with the general's extraordinary clemency: andthen too, possibly, after the specimen which Don Lopez had had of theCanadian's resolution and reckless daring, he was not anxious to puthim to a fresh trial, as he knew that he was armed, and convincedthat he would blow out his brains without hesitation. For our part, webelieve that the general was for an instant completely dominated by theascendency which the Canadian's character exerted over him, and that hehad acted solely under the influence of this feeling.

  However this may be, Oliver Clary did not deceive himself for a moment,and spurred his horse, which galloped at headlong speed. After aboutan hour's ride, he thought that he had placed a sufficient distancebetween himself and any person who might feel tempted to pursue him,and he checked the pace of his steed, which was beginning to displaysigns of fatigue, and he did not wish to kill it unnecessarily. It wasabout ten a.m., and the day was magnificent. The Canadian, who had beenimprisoned for nearly four and twenty hours, inhaled the fresh air andlooked around him in delight, so happy did he feel at being free andseeing once again water and trees.

  He rode along thus, careless and satisfied, laughing at the capitaltrick he had played the general, and glad to have got out of the scrapeso well, when he suddenly perceived a small party of horsemen comingtoward him at full speed. In the first moment, the Canadian felt alively anxiety; but, upon reflection, he reassured himself by the factthat it was impossible these horsemen had been sent in pursuit of him,from the direction in which they were coming. He, therefore, continuedto push on without checking or hurrying his steed, for fear of arousingin the minds of the newcomers suspicions which might be unfavourableto him, and, owing to their number, cause him an embarrassment whichhe desired to avoid at any price. But, after riding thus for someten minutes, he uttered a cry of pleasure and galloped toward thenewcomers. He had recognized in the two persons heading the party,Count de Melgosa and Diego Lopez.

  "Thank heaven!" the count exclaimed on seeing him, "I was afraid Ishould arrive too late."

  "That would probably have been the case," the Canadian replied, "had Inot managed to get out of the hobble by myself. But how is it that Imeet you here?"

  "Did I not promise to join you today at Leona?"

  "Ah, now I understand,"

  "No, you do not, for I had not intended to start till this evening, soas to avoid the great heat, had not Diego Lopez arrived this morningat sunrise like a madman at the hacienda, telling everybody who couldhear it that General Cardenas put you in prison yesterday, with ordersthat you should be hung today. I now see that this ass of a Diego haslet himself be taken in by falsehoods spread through the town for somemotive I am ignorant of, and I am delighted at it, for I should neverhave consoled myself had you died."

  "Senor Conde," the Canadian replied, as he affectionately pressed thepeon's hand, "Diego Lopez was not deceived by false reports. All hetold you was most strictly true."

  "Ah!" the count exclaimed, with a start of passion, "That man mustreally be a wild beast."

  "Morally, I am prepared to swear he is," the Canadian replied, with anair of conviction.

  "It surpasses all belief. Never was such contempt of the law of nationsknown. But how is it that I now find you at liberty, and, apparently atleast, without the slightest wound?"

  "That is another story," the adventurer said, with a meaning smile,"and one which is somewhat interesting, I assure you, count."

  "Who delivered you?"

  "Myself."

  "Alone?"

  "Indeed, yes. When I saw that no one came to my assistance, I tried tomanage it by myself, and you see how I succeeded."

  "Oh!" the count said, with an accent of painful conviction. "A causedefended by such men is a lost cause. Pray, caballero, tell me in theirfullest details all the events that have occurred. I want to know themin order to see whether my honour permits me still to give the aid ofmy sword to a government which employs such savage measures."

  "Senor Conde," the Canadian said frankly, "since you insist, I willtell you all, though I know that the story will grieve you. Still,before I begin, must say that, during all the time I have been rangingthe desert, and the annals of an adventurous career have brought meinto relations with the most ferocious Indian nations, I never foundwith one of them such a profound contempt for what all men respect. Forthat I had to become acquainted with a Spanish general."

  "Senor," the count said sorrowfully, "do not render a whole nationresponsible for the fault of an individual. Do not judge us incapableof generous feelings and recognizing virtue when it presents itself tous. Thank heaven! The Spanish people have established their reputationfor honour and loyalty for centuries. There are, believe me, amongother nations as well as ours, coldly ferocious beings insensibleof all feeling of honour. These men belong to no nation. They aremonsters whom humanity brands and rejects with horror from its bosom."

  "I will not discuss so grave a matter with you, senor. I am but a poorman, ignorant of the laws of the world, and I do not at all intend topass judgment on things which exceed the range of the weak intellectwith which it has pleased nature to endow me. It is evident that menare all born with different instincts. Whether civilization modifiesthese instincts for better or worse I cannot say, any more than I wouldventure to assert that all the men of your nation are as thoroughlybad as the general, the more so as you are an evident proof of thecontrary."

  "A compliment is not an answer, senor. But do not let us dwell anylonger on this painful subject, and return to the story you promised totell me."

  "I ask nothing better than to do so, caballero; but the narrative willoccupy some time, and, for reasons you will speedily learn, I am notparticularly anxious to remain so short a distance from Leona Vicario."

  "Very good, senor," the count answered. "Tell me where you wish to go,and I will accompany you for some leagues with the greater pleasureat the thought that, in the event of your being pursued--which, Ipresume, is the cause of your anxiety--my escort and presence wouldprove of some use to you."

  "Certainly, caballero, and I accept your gracious offer with thegreatest pleasure. I am returning to the Hacienda del Barrio, to give areport of the mission confided to me, and which nearly cost me so dear.I suppose that no serious reason prevents your accompanying me on thatroad?"

  "None; especially as I shall only go so far as I can with safety."

  "As that is the case, let us start, for I am anxious to get away."

  The count ordered his troopers to wheel, and the little party startedagain at a gallop.

  "Why," the count said suddenly, as he looked at the adventurer's steed,"if I am not greatly mistaken, that horse comes out of the stables ofGeneral de Cardenas."

  "Quite right; it does."

  "How do you happen to be riding it?"

  "That is part of the story."

  "Begin it, then, in heaven's name, for I am dying of impatience to hearit."

  "In that case, listen to me, Senor Conde. But be kind enough to let mycomrade Diego Lopez remain near us. He behaved too well to me, duringthe short time we were together, for me to begrudge him this slightsatisfaction."

  The count granted the Canadian's request with pleasure, and made a signto Diego, who eagerly ranged his horse by the side of Oliver Clary's.The Canadian then began his narrative, relating with the utmo
stfrankness events as they occurred, from the moment when he quitted thecount at the hacienda up to that when he found him galloping again onthe road to Leona. The count listened to the Canadian's lengthy storywith the most earnest attention, at times letting the feelings be seenon his stern face which the facts the adventurer related aroused inhim. When the latter ceased speaking, he shook his head several times.

  "You were more lucky than clever," he said, "and the way in which yougained your liberty almost trenches on the marvellous. The generaldeserved worse treatment than that for the way in which he behaved toyou, and the contempt he displayed for the safe conduct I had givenyou. Alas! We live in hapless times, when honour and good faith aremere words devoid of meaning."

  "Not to everybody," the Canadian exclaimed, quickly.

  "Certainly not, and I am pleased to allow it; of all the things youhave related to me, there is only one of which I do not approve."

  "Which is that, Senor Conde?"

  "The help you gave the redskin imprisoned with you. These Indians area real scourge to us dwellers on the border; letting one escape whencaught is like setting a ferocious brute at liberty."

  "That is true, senor; but what would you have? I have lived for manyyears among the redskins; I have frequently fought them, and at timeskilled them without the slightest scruple; but I cannot allow that theyshould be deprived of their sole property--liberty. Besides, he was anold acquaintance, in this sense, that the tribe to which he belongs hasdone me great services on several occasions. As I had a chance to repaythem, I did so."

  "Yes, you are right, and you are bound to reason thus after the lifeyou have led. I will not dwell on this subject further, therefore;but what you have said has produced a powerful impression on me. Irequire a few moments' reflection, in order to regulate my thoughts; sokindly excuse me if I am silent for a few minutes; after which we willconverse again. I intend to ride two or three leagues further withyou."

  The adventurer bowed, and turning to Diego Lopez, he thanked him warmlyfor what he had tried to do for him, and assured him that, althoughhe had not profited by his advice, he was not the less grateful forit. While talking and galloping, they passed through the canyon wherethey had been attacked a few days previously by the Indians, and wereabout to enter a rather large chaparral, which they were obliged tocross to reach the banks of the lake, when the Canadian's piercing eyeperceived, some distance ahead, the body of a man lying at the foot ofan enormous sumach, beneath which he seemed to be seeking a shelterfrom the sun.

  "There is a man," said the adventurer, "who knows but little about thedesert."

  "What man are you talking of?" Diego Lopez asked, who had not yetlooked in that direction.

  "Look there," the adventurer said, stretching out his arm, "thatindividual has placed himself by the roadside, within reach of thefirst passerby who may feel inclined to kill him in order to seize thelittle he possesses. I know countries in Apacheria where he would notlie in that way, without being really scalped by some Indian prowler."

  "It is singular," Diego Lopez continued, "he has no horse, and that isextraordinary in a country where the poorest peon has one."

  "That is true," the Canadian said, and added a moment later, "I am verymuch afraid that our fancied sleeper is simply a dead man."

  "Do you think so?" the peon said.

  "Hang it, I do not know exactly, but he has not made the slightestmovement since we first perceived him. If he be not dead, as I expect,he must be a very sound sleeper not to have heard the sound of ourhorses."

  "I will inform the Senor Conde," the peon replied, as he turned backand rejoined his master.

  The latter listened to his servant's report with, some surprise, forno assassination had occurred for a long time on this road, which wasgreatly frequented by travellers of every description. He spurred hishorse, and joined the adventurer, who had pulled up to wait for him.

  "What do you think about it?" he asked him.

  "Nothing good," the latter replied; "still I think that we had bettermake sure. With your permission I will push on, and find out what itall means."

  "We will all go," the count answered; "if the pretended corpseconcealed a trap, there would be enough of us to foil it."

  "Let us push on then," the Canadian said, as he slacked his rein, andhis horse started with the speed of lightning.

  The others followed him, and they soon reached the sumach; the man hadnot stirred. The count and the adventurer dismounted, and walked up tothe body, which still lay motionless, and bent over it.

  "It is a white man," said the Canadian.

  "Yes," the count added, after a moment of attentive examination; "Iknow him. His name is Don Melchior. I saw him at the Hacienda delBarrio during my last visit. Don Anibal de Saldibar is sincerelyattached to him. How is it that he is here, and in such a haplesscondition?"

  "That is a question which himself alone could answer, and for themoment I fear that it is impossible for him to do so. Let us first makesure whether he be dead or alive."

  Like all the wood rangers, who, through the chances of theiradventurous life, run a risk of being wounded at any moment, theCanadian, though no great doctor, possessed some practical knowledgeof medicine, or, to speak more correctly, of surgery. He bent overthe young man, raised him with one hand, and held him up in a sittingposition, while he held to his mouth the bright blade of his knife. Amoment later he looked at it; it was slightly tarnished.

  "Thank heaven!" he said, "He is not dead, though not much better off;he has fainted."

  "The poor boy appears to me very ill," the count remarked, sorrowfully.

  "That is true; but he is young and strong, and so long as the soulclings to the body there is a chance."

  "How can we help him? We must not leave him in this pitiable state."

  "Of course not, for that would be certain death. Diego Lopez, give meyour flask if there is any liquor in it."

  "It is quite full," the peon said, handing it to him.

  The Canadian mixed a little mezcal with water in a leaf he bent up, andthen rubbed the temples, wrists, and stomach of the wounded man withit; after which, thrusting the knife blade between his teeth, he openedhis mouth by main force, and made him swallow a few drops, while DiegoLopez continued the friction, and the count, kneeling behind the youngman, kept him in a sitting posture. For nearly a quarter of an hourtheir efforts seemed to produce no effect on the wounded man; still theCanadian, far from giving in, redoubled his exertions, and ere long hadcause to congratulate himself on his perseverance when he saw the youngman make a slight movement.

  "Heaven be thanked!" the count said, joyfully, "He is regaining hissenses."

  "Indeed is he," said the Canadian, "look at him waking up."

  In fact, Don Melchior, after making a few convulsive efforts, feeblyopened his eyes, but, blinded by the sunbeams, closed them again.

  "Courage," the Canadian said to him, "courage, comrade, you havefriends near you."

  The young man, at the sound of this voice, seemed to return to hissenses completely, his pale cheeks were tinged with a hectic flush; heopened his eyes, looked round him in amazement, and, making an effortto speak, he murmured in a weak, almost indistinct voice--

  "The Indians--the Indians--save Dona Diana--save--save--Dona Emilia!"

  And, worn by the effort he had made, he fell back inanimate in thecount's arms; the latter laid him gently on the ground, and roseeagerly.

  "Diego Lopez," he said, "make a litter as speedily as possible, thisyoung man must be conveyed to my house."

  "Why not to the Hacienda del Barrio?" the Canadian remarked.

  "No," the count answered, with a shake of his head, "there is amystery in this affair. Let us not act inconsiderately, and perhapscause great pain to a man who has already suffered severely. You willaccompany us, I suppose, senor?"

  "Certainly, if you desire it."

  "I ask it as a favour, caballero."