Balle-Franche. English

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE SHE-WOLF OF THE PRAIRIES.

  About four or five hours after the various events we have describedin the previous chapters, a horseman, mounted on a powerful steed,caparisoned in the Indian fashion, that is to say, bedizened withfeathers, and painted of glaring colours, crossed a streamlet, andgalloped over the prairies, proceeding in the direction of the Virginforest, to which we have several times alluded. The rider, dressedin the war costume of the Blackfoot Indians, and whom it was easy torecognize as a chief by the eagle feather fastened over his right ear,incessantly bent over his horse's neck, and urged it to increased speed.

  It was night, but an American night, full of sharp odours andmysterious sounds, with a dark blue sky, studded with an infinitenumber of dazzling stars; the moon profusely spread her silvery raysover the landscape, casting a deceitful brightness, which imparted afantastic appearance to objects. All seemed to sleep on the prairies;the wind even hardly shook the umbrageous tops of the trees; the wildbeasts, after drinking at the river, had returned to their hidden dens.The horseman alone moved on, gliding silently through the darkness;at times he raised his head, as if consulting the sky, then, after aseconds rest, he galloped onwards.

  Many hours passed ere the horseman thought of stopping. At lengthhe reached a spot where the trees were so interlaced by creeperswhich enfolded them, that a species of insurmountable wall suddenlyprevented the rider's progress. After a moment's hesitation, andlooking attentively around to discover a hole by which he could pass,seeing clearly that all attempts would be useless, he dismounted. Hesaw that he had arrived at a canebrake, or spot where a passage canonly be made by fire or axe. The Indian chief fastened his horse to thetrunk of a tree; left within its reach a stock of grass and climbingpeas; then, certain that his horse would want for nothing during thislong night, he began thinking of himself.

  First he cut down with his bowie knife the bushes and plants whichinterfered with the encampment he wished to form; then he prepared,with all the stoicism of a prairie denizen, a fire of dry wood, inorder to cook his supper, and keep off wild beasts, if anyone took itinto his head to pay him a visit during his sleep. Among the wood hecollected was a large quantity of what the Mexicans call _palo mulato_,or stinking wood; this he was careful to remove, for the pestiferoussmell of that tree would have denounced his presence for miles round,and the Indian, judging from the precautions he took, seemed afraid ofbeing discovered; in fact, the care with which he had placed sand-bagsround his horse's hoofs, to dull the sound, sufficiently proved this.

  When the fire, so placed as not to be visible ten yards off, pouredits pleasant column of flame into the air, the Indian took from hiselk-skin pouch a little Indian wheat and pemmican, which he ate withconsiderable appetite, looking round continually in the surroundinggloom, and stopping to listen attentively to those noiseless soundswhich by night trouble the imposing calmness of the desert, without anyapparent cause. When his scanty meal was ended, the Indian filled hispipe with kinne-kinnick, and began smoking.

  Still, in spite of his apparent calmness, the man was not easy;at times he took the pipe from his lips, looked up, and anxiouslyconsulted the sky, through a break in the foliage above his head. Atlength he appeared to form an energetic resolution, and raising hisfingers to his lips, imitated thrice, with rare perfection, the cry ofthe blue jay, that privileged bird that sings in the night; then hebent his body forward and listened, but nothing proved to him that hissignal had been heard.

  "Wait a while," he muttered.

  And crouching again before the fire, into which he threw a handful ofdry branches, he began smoking again. Several hours passed thus: atlength the moon disappeared from the horizon, the cold became sharper,and the sky, in which the stars expired one after the other, was tintedwith a rosy hue. The Indian, who had been slumbering for a while,suddenly shook himself, turned a suspicious glance around, and mutteredhoarsely,--

  "She cannot be far off."

  And he again gave the signal. The last cry had scarce died out in thedistance, when a roar was heard close by. The Indian, instead of beingalarmed by this ill-omened sound, smiled, and said in a loud and firmvoice,--

  "You are welcome, She-wolf; you know it is I who am awaiting you here."

  "Ah! you are there, then!" a voice answered.

  A rustling of leaves was now heard in the bushes opposite the spotwhere the Indian was seated; the reeds and creepers were pulled back bya vigorous hand, and a woman appeared in the space left free. Beforeadvancing, she thrust her head forward cautiously, and looked.

  "I am alone," the Indian said; "you can approach without fear."

  A smile played over the newcomer's lips at this answer, which she didnot expect.

  "I fear nothing," she said.

  Before going further, we will give some indispensable details aboutthis woman--vague, it is true, as we can only supply what the Indianssaid about her, but which will be useful to the reader in comprehendingthe facts that will follow. No one knew who she was, or whence shecame. The period when she was first seen on the prairie was equallyunknown. All was an inexplicable mystery connected with her. Thoughshe spoke fluently, and with extreme purity, most of the prairieidioms, still certain words she at times used, and the colour of herskin, not so brown as that of the natives, caused the supposition thatshe belonged to another race from theirs. It was only a supposition,however, for her hatred of the Indians was too well known for thebravest among them ever to venture to see her sufficiently closely torender themselves certain on that head.

  At times she disappeared for weeks, even for months, and it wasimpossible to discover her trail. Then she was suddenly seen againwandering about, talking to herself, marching nearly always by night,frequently accompanied by an idiotic and dumb dwarf, who followed herlike a dog, and whom the Indians, in their credulous superstition,suspected strongly of being her familiar. This woman, ever gloomy andmelancholy, with her wild looks and startling gestures, could not beaccused of doing anyone harm, in spite of the general terror sheinspired. Still, owing to the strange life she led, all the misfortunesthat happened to the Indians, in war or hunting, were imputed to her.The Redskins considered her a wicked genius, and had given her the nameof the _Spirit of Evil_. Hence the man who had come so far to see hermust necessarily have been gifted with extraordinary courage, or somepowerful reason impelled him to act as he was doing.

  As this Blackfoot chief is destined to play a great part in thisnarrative, we will give his portrait in a few words. He was a man whohad reached middle life, or about forty-five years. He was tall, wellbuilt, and admirably proportioned. His muscles, standing out likewhipcord, denoted extraordinary vigour. He had an intelligent face; hisfeatures expressed cunning, while his eyes were rarely fixed on anyobject, but gave him an expression of craft and brutal cruelty, whichinspired an unenviable repugnance towards him, if you took the troubleto study him carefully: but observers are rare in the desert, and withthe Indians this chief enjoyed a great reputation, and was equallybeloved for his tried courage and inexhaustible powers of speech,qualities highly esteemed by the Redskins.

  "The night is still gloomy; my mother can approach," the Indian chiefsaid.

  "I am coming," the woman said, drily, as she advanced.

  "I have been waiting a long while."

  "I know it, but no matter."

  "The road was long to come."

  "I am here; speak!"

  And she leaned against the stem of a tree, crossing her arms on herchest.

  "What can I say, if my mother does not first question me?"

  "That is true. Answer me then."

  There was a silence, only troubled by the wind sighing in the leaves;after a few moments' reflection, the woman at length began,--

  "Have you done what I ordered?"

  "I have."

  "Well?"

  "My mother guessed rightly."

  "Is it so?"

  "All is preparing for action,"

  "You are sur
e?"

  "I was present at the council."

  She smiled triumphantly.

  "Where was the meeting place?"

  "At the tree of life."

  "Long ago?"

  "The sun has set eight hours since."

  "Good! What was resolved?"

  "What you already know."

  "The destruction of the whites?"

  "Yes."

  "When will the war signal be given?"

  "The day is not yet fixed."

  "Ah!" she said in a tone of regret.

  "But it cannot be long," he added quickly.

  "What makes you think so?"

  "The Grizzly Bear is eager to finish."

  "And I, too," the woman muttered in a low voice.

  The conversation was again broken off. The woman paced up and down theclearing in thought. The chief followed her with his eyes, carefullyexamining her. All at once she stopped before him, and looked him Inthe face.

  "You are devoted to me, chief?" she said.

  "Do you doubt it?"

  "Perhaps."

  "Still, only a few hours ago, I gave you a decided proof of mydevotion."

  "What?"

  "This!" he said, pointing to his left arm, which was wrapped in stripsof bark.

  "I do not understand you."

  "You see I am wounded?"

  "Well! what then?"

  "The Redskins attacked the Palefaces some hours ago; they were scalingthe barricade which protected their camp, when they suddenly retiredon your appearance, by order of their chief, who was wounded, andthirsting for revenge."

  "It is true."

  "Good. And the chief who commanded the Redskins--does my mother knowhim?"

  "No."

  "It was I, the Red Wolf: does my mother still doubt?"

  "The path on which I am walking is so gloomy," she replied sorrowfully;"the work I am accomplishing is so serious, and of such import to me,that at times I feel fear enter my heart, and doubt contract my chest,when I think I am alone, a poor weak woman, to wrestle with a giant.For long years I have been ripening the plan I wish to accomplishtoday; I have occupied my whole life to obtain the result I desire, andI fear failure at the moment of succeeding. Then, if I have no longerconfidence in myself, can I trust a man whom self-interest may urge tobetray, or at any rate abandon me at a moment."

  The chief drew himself up on hearing these words; his eye flashed fire,and, with a gesture of wounded pride, he said,--

  "Silence! my mother must not add a word. She insults at this momenta man who is most anxious to prove his truth to her: ingratitude isa white vice, gratitude a red virtue. My mother was ever kind to me;Red Wolf cannot count the occasions on which he owes his life toher. My mother's heart is ulcered by misfortune; solitude is an evilcounsellor: my mother listens too much to the voices which whisper inher ear through the silence of night; she forgets the services she hasrendered, only to remember the ingratitude she has sowed on her road.Red Wolf is devoted to her, he loves her; the She-wolf can place entireconfidence in him, he is worthy of it."

  "Dare I believe in these protestations? Can I put faith in thesepromises?" she muttered.

  The chief continued passionately,--

  "If the gratitude I have vowed to my mother is not enough, another andstronger tie attaches us, which must convince her of my sincerity."

  "What is it?" she asked, looking fixedly at him.

  "Hatred," he answered.

  "That is true," she said, with a sinister burst of laughter. "You hatehim too?"

  "Yes; I hate him with all the strength of my soul: I hate him, becausehe has robbed me of the two things I held most to on earth,--the loveof the woman I adored, and the power I coveted."

  "But are you not a chief?" she said significantly.

  "Yes!" he exclaimed proudly, "I am a chief, but my father was a sachemof the Kenhas; his son is brave, he is crafty, the scalps of numberlessPalefaces dry before his lodge. Why then is Red Wolf only an inferiorchief, instead of leading his men to battle as his father did?"

  The woman seemed to take a delight in exciting the anger of the Indian,instead of calming it.

  "Because doubtlessly," she said, "a wiser man than the Red Wolf hasgained the votes of his brothers."

  "Let my mother say that a greater rogue stole them from him, andher words will be true," he exclaimed violently. "Grizzly Bear is aComanche dog, the son of an exile, received through favour into mytribe; his scalp will soon dry on the girdle of the Red Wolf."

  "Patience!" the woman said in a hoarse voice. "Vengeance is a fruitwhich is only eaten ripe: the Red Wolf is a warrior; he can wait."

  "Let my mother order," the Indian said, suddenly calmed; "her son willobey."

  "Has the Red Wolf succeeded in obtaining the medicine whichPrairie-Flower wears round her neck?"

  The Indian bowed his head in confusion.

  "No," he said hoarsely. "Prairie-Flower never leaves the White Buffalo;it is impossible to approach her."

  The woman smiled ironically.

  "What! did Red Wolf ever keep a promise?"

  The Blackfoot shuddered with rage.

  "I will have it," he cried, "even if I must use force in obtaining it."

  "No," she replied; "cunning alone must be employed."

  "I will have it," he repeated. "Before two days I will give it to mymother."

  "No," she said quickly; "in two days is too soon. Let my son give it meon the fifth day of the new moon, which will begin within three days."

  "Good; I swear it! My mother shall have the great medicine ofPrairie-Flower."

  "My son will bring it to me at the tree of the bear, near the greatlodge of the Palefaces, two hours after sunset. I will await him there,and give him my final instructions."

  "Red Wolf will be there."

  "Till then, my son will carefully watch every movement of the GrizzlyBear; if he learns anything new, which appears to him important, myson will form on this very spot a pyramid of seven buffalo heads, andcome back two hours after to wait for me. I shall have understood hissignal, and will reply to his summons."

  "_Oche_, my mother is powerful; it shall be done as she desires."

  "My son has quite understood?"

  "The words of my mother have fallen on the ears of a chief; his mindhas received them."

  "The sky on the horizon is covered with red bands, the sun will soonappear: let my brother return to his tribe; he must not arouse thesuspicions of his enemy by his absence."

  "I go; but before leaving my mother, whose wisdom has discovered allthe schemes of the Palefaces, has she not made a great medicine to knowif our enterprise will succeed, and if we shall conquer our enemy?"

  At this moment a loud noise was heard in the canebrake, and a shrillwhistle traversed the air; the Indian's horse laid hack its ears,made violent efforts to break the rope that fastened it, and trembledall over. The woman seized the chiefs arm firmly, and said in a gloomyvoice,--

  "Let my brother look!"

  Red Wolf stifled a cry of surprise, and gazed, motionless andterrified, at the strange sight before him. A few paces off, a tigercat and a rattlesnake were preparing for a contest. Their metalliceyeballs flashed, and seemed to emit flames. The tiger cat, crouchingon a branch, with hair erect, was meowing and spitting, while closelyfollowing every move of its dangerous enemy, and awaiting the momentto attack it advantageously. The Crotalus, coiled up, and formingan enormous spiral, with its hideous head thrown back, whistled, asit balanced itself to the right and left, with a movement full ofsuppleness and grace, apparently trying to fascinate its enemy. Butthe latter did not allow it a long rest; it suddenly bounded on theserpent, which, however, moved nimbly on one side, and when the cat,after missing its leap, returned to the charge, gave it a fearful stingon the face.

  The tiger cat uttered a yell of rage, and buried its long and sharpclaws in the eyes of the serpent, which, however, wound round itsenemy with a convulsive movement. Then the two rolled on the ground,hissing and ho
wling, but unable to loose their hold. The struggle waslong; they fought with extraordinary fury; but at length, the rings ofthe snake became unloosened, and its flaccid body lay motionless onthe ground. The tiger cat escaped, with a meow of triumph, from themonster's terrible embrace, and bounded on a tree; but its strengthwas unequal to its will, and it could not reach the branch on whichit wished to climb, but fell back exhausted on the ground. Then theferocious animal, struggling with death and overcoming its agony,crouched back to the body of its enemy, and stood upon it. It thenuttered a final yell of triumph, and fell, itself a corpse, by the sideof the snake. The Indian had followed all the moving incidents of thiscruel contest with ever-increasing interest.

  "Well," he asked the unknown, "what does my mother say?"

  She shook her head.

  "Our triumph will cost us our life," she replied.

  "What matters," the Red Wolf said, "so long as we conquer our enemies?"

  And, drawing his knife, he began skinning the catamount. The womanlooked at his operations for a while; then making him a parting sign,she re-entered the canebrake, where she was speedily lost to view. Anhour later, the Indian chief, laden with the cat's head and the snake'sskin, started off toward his village at full gallop. An ironical smileplayed around his lips; he needed no excuse to explain his absence, forthe spoils he brought with him proved that he had spent the night inhunting.