CHAPTER XIII.

  THE GREAT MEDICINE.

  Before going further we will give some indispensable informationrespecting the Pueblos Indians, who are destined to play a great part inthis story, which, we believe, through its novelty, will interest thereader.

  These Indians hold the centre between the redskins of North America, andthat race of Toltecs, on whom were grafted all the branches whoseamalgamation composes the great indigenous nation of Mexico. Thoughliving chiefly by trade and agriculture, they have not resigned alltheir warlike tastes.

  The Pueblos are established all along the northern line of Mexico, theprincipal tribes being the Navajos, Apaches, Yutas, Caignas, andComanches. The Apaches differ a little from the redskins properly socalled, with whom they have a common character, however; and so do theComanches.

  The latter tribe is the most redoubtable in the desert, and calls itselfproudly the Queen of the Prairies. The Comanches alone of all theIndians have managed to shield themselves from a taste for strongliquors, which are so pernicious to the red race. The Comanches possessa haughty and independent character, as the reader will be enabled tojudge in the progress of our story. We will only mention here one oftheir customs, which will be sufficient to let them be appreciated attheir full value.

  Polygamy is allowed among the Comanches; each chief has six, eight orten wives; but, among this people a marriage is arranged neither by softwords nor presents; the Comanche warrior reaches a surer and more solemnpledge. This is how he acts:

  So soon as he fancies himself beloved by a woman, he kills one of hishorses, plucks out its heart, and nails it all bleeding to the door ofthe girl he is courting. She takes it down, roasts it, and then dividesit equally, giving one half to her lover, eating the other herself, andthe marriage is concluded.

  Up to the present, none have been able to enslave this nation, which isthe terror of all the Mexican frontiers. After this explanation, we willgo on with our story.

  Dona Clara was aroused at an early hour by the sound of the chichikouisand other Indian instruments, with which was incessantly mingled thebarking of the countless pack of dogs that always accompanies theredskins. At sunrise Black Cat entered the prisoner's cabin, and, afterbowing to her, told her in his honeyed voice, while gazing eagerly ather, that he was about to make the great medicine of the Bah-oh-akan-es,in order to obtain from the Master of Life the surrender of his enemyinto his hands; and that if, instead of remaining alone with her grief,she desired to witness the ceremony, she could follow him.

  The young Mexican, not wishing the chief to notice the delight sheexperienced at this proposal, appeared to submit, and not to accept hisoffer.

  The whole population of the village was astir, the women and childrenrunning in all directions, uttering deafening yells. Even the warriorsand old men seemed to have forgotten the Indian stoicism. In a fewminutes the village was deserted, so eager were all to proceed to a vastplain running along the banks of the Gila, where the great medicinetalisman was to be accomplished.

  Black Cat, cunning as he was, was deceived by the apparent weakness ofhis prisoner, and her feigned despondency. After giving her a piercingglance to assure himself that she was not playing with him, he made hera sign to leave the hut and mix with the aged women, who, like all therest, wished to witness the ceremony; and he then retired, withouthaving the slightest suspicion.

  Dona Clara placed herself at the foot of a tree, whose tufted branchesbent over the river; and there, with palpitating heart, restless mind,and eye and ears on the watch, she impatiently awaited the hour of herdeliverance, although feigning to be attracted by all that went onaround her.

  The Indians had built a small hut, covered externally with buffalorobes, and having a low and narrow door. In order to reach this hut, apath forty feet long and one wide had been traced, crossing the villageroad at right angles. The grass had been torn up all along this path,and collected at its termination opposite the hut. Forty pair ofmoccasins had also been placed, one behind the other, in two rows, allthe extent of the path.

  By the side of the mound of grass burned a fire, in which the flatstones were heated. When they were red hot, they were carried into thehut, and placed on a hearth made for the purpose.

  The entire population of the village, with the exception of a few women,whom their age kept apart, were seated along the two sides of the path,with a large number of dishes of Indian corn, broth, grease, and meatbefore them. The sorcerer was standing on the mound of grass.

  At a signal he rose, and proceeded to the sweating lodge, being carefulalways to place his feet on the moccasins. At the door of the lodgeBlack Cat was standing, naked to the waist. The sorcerer, afterremaining a few minutes in the lodge, came out again, holding a cutlassin his hand. He walked silently towards Black Cat, who, on seeing him,rose and stretched his left hand, saying:

  "I gladly give the first joint of the forefinger of this hand to Natosh,if he will surrender my enemy to me, and allow me to lift his scalp."

  "Natosh has heard thee: he accepts," the sorcerer replied, laconically.

  With a blow of his cutlass he cut off the joint, which he threw over hishead, uttering some mysterious words; while Black Cat, apparentlyinsensible to the pain, continued his prayers. This operationterminated, the sorcerer took a rod made of willow branches and fastenedby the tail of a prairie wolf: he dipped it in each of the dishes, andscattered the contents in the direction of the four winds, whileinvoking the Lord of life, fire, water, and air. These dishes, which noone had yet touched, were then divided among the spectators, whodevoured them in a twinkling.

  After this, the oldest warriors entered the medicine lodge: the womencarefully covered them, and threw over the red-hot stones water whichthey drew from the sacred vessels, with sprigs of wormwood. After thisceremony, all the inhabitants began dancing round the hut, accompanyingthemselves with their chichikouis. During this time, he had placed onthe pile of grass in front of the lodge, a buffalo head with its muzzleto the wind: then, taking a long pole covered with a brand new redblanket, which he offered to the Master of Life, he proceeded, followedby his relations and friends, to plant it before the sweating lodges.

  The songs and dances continued. The sounds of the chichikouis becamemore animated. A species of frenzy seemed to seize on all the Indians,and the old women, who, till this moment, had remained passivespectators of the ceremony, rushed in disorder towards the lodge,uttering loud yells, and mingled with the noisy crowd.

  Dona Clara remained alone at the foot of the tree, near the riverbank.No one paid any further attention to her. It seemed as if she had beenforgotten in the general excitement. She took an anxious glance around:by a species of intuition she felt that the help she expected wouldarrive from the direction of the river. Carelessly and slowly, stoopingevery second to cull one of the charming flowers--something like ourviolets--which are the last to enamel the prairie, she approached thebank. All at once she felt herself pulled back by the skirt of herdress, and felt terribly alarmed. At the same time as this mysterioushand seized her, a voice whispered the simple words:

  "To the right, and stoop."

  The maiden guessed, rather than heard the words; but she obeyed withouthesitation. Two minutes after, following a small path that opened beforeher, she found herself sheltered behind an enormous rock, on theriverbank. Two horses, saddled in the Indian fashion, were fastened to apicket near the rock. At a sign from Eagle-wing, Dona Clara leaped on toone of the horses, while the Indian bestrode the other.

  "Good," he said, in his sympathising voice; "brave heart!" And lettingloose the bridles of both horses, he said:

  "Quicker than the storm!"

  The half-tamed mustangs started more rapidly than the wind, making thepebbles strike fire under their hoofs. It was broad day, the prairieextended for an enormous distance, flat, naked, and undiversified; andat only a few paces off, the whole population of the village would notfail soon to notice them. The position was most perilous and critical;the two
fugitives knew it, and redoubled their ardour, boldly bravingdanger. All at once a yell of rage vibrated in the air.

  "Courage!" the chief said.

  "I have it," the girl replied, with clenched teeth, as she urged herhorse to increased speed. "They shall never capture me alive."

  The Apaches, who had left their village for a religious festival, hadnot brought their arms with them, and their horses naturally remained inthe stables. This was an hour's respite granted the fugitives.

  So soon as the Indians had perceived Dona Clara's flight, the ceremonywas interrupted, and all rushed tumultuously toward the village, noisilydemanding their weapons and horses. Within a few minutes the most activewere in the saddle, and galloping in the traces of Dona Clara andEagle-wing.

  The most celebrated European riders can form no idea of what a pursuitis on the prairies. The Indians are the finest horsemen in the world.Riveted to their steeds, which they squeeze and hold up between theirnervous knees, they become identified with them, communicating theirpassions to them, as it were, by an electric fluid, and, like theCentaurs in the fable, they perform prodigies on horseback; rocks,ravines, hedges, currents--nothing stops or checks this furious racewhich is allied to madness: a living whirlwind, they fly through spacewith headlong speed, enveloped in a halo of dust.

  Two hours passed thus, and the fugitives, bent over their horses' necks,were unable to take a moment's rest. Their half-maddened steeds, withtheir coats white with foam, and bleeding nostrils, reeled with fatigueand terror; their trembling sinews scarce supported them, and yet, urgedon by their riders, they devoured the space, guessing instinctively thatthe furious band of Indians was pursuing them at a short distance.

  Scarce a thousand yards separated the two parties. Black Cat, furious athaving been cheated by a woman, was two horses' length in advance, andwas followed by seven or eight Indians, whose horses, fresher than thoseof the others, had forged ahead. Eagle-wing turned round, and saw fourwarriors a hundred paces from him.

  "Forward!" he shouted to the maiden, as he struck her horse's croup withhis whip; and it bounded forward, with a supreme effort, uttering asnort of pain.

  At the same time the Coras turned back, and rushing like lightning onhis enemies, ere they had time to place themselves in a posture ofdefence, he discharged his rifle at them. An Apache fell dead. Thesachem, whose horse was exhausted, felled a second foe with the butt ofhis gun; then, with extraordinary skill, he leaped onto the steed of thefirst warrior he had killed, caught the other by the bridle, and wentoff again, leaving the Apaches astounded by this act of boldness.

  Ten minutes later he rejoined Dona Clara, who had seen with a terror,mingled with admiration, the heroic action of her defender. The maiden,beneath her apparent weakness, concealed a thoroughly manly soul. Withher cheeks slightly tinged, her eyebrows contracted, her teeth clenched,and animated by the fixed idea of escaping her ravishers, fatigue seemedto have no mastery over her. It was with a feeling of indescribable joythat she mounted the fresh steed the Indian brought her.

  Owing to Eagle-wing's bold stroke, the fugitives had a considerableadvance on their pursuers; for the Apaches, as they came up to the spotwhere their two companions had been killed, leaped off their horses, andsurrounded their corpses with lamentations.

  Eagle-wing understood that this flight could not last, and that sooneror later they must die or yield; he therefore altered his tactics.

  At a little distance from the spot where they now were the Gila wascontracted; the river, reduced to a width of one hundred and fifty yardsat the most, ran between two wooded hills.

  "We are lost," he hurriedly said to his companion, "if we continue tofly thus. A desperate resolve can alone save us."

  "Let us try it at all risks," the maiden answered, intrepidly, withquivering lip and flashing eye.

  "Come!" he continued.

  Dona Clara followed him without hesitation to the rugged bank of theriver, when the warrior stopped.

  "There," he said, hoarsely, as he pointed with a gesture full ofnobility to the Apaches coming up at full speed, "slavery, infamy, anddeath. Here," he continued, as he pointed to the river, "death, perhaps,but liberty."

  "Let us be free or die!" she replied.

  As we have said, the river ran between two elevated banks, and thefugitives were now standing like two equestrian statues on the top of ahillock twenty or five-and-twenty feet in height, from which they mustthrow themselves into the river, an enormous leap for the horses whichran a risk of being crushed in falling, and dragging their riders downwith them. But any other means of flight had become impossible.

  The Apaches, spread all over the plain, had succeeded in surrounding thefugitives.

  "Has my sister decided?" the Indian asked.

  Dona Clara took a glance around her.

  The redskins, headed by Black Cat, were scarce one hundred and fiftyyards distant.

  "Let us go, in Heaven's name," she said.

  "May Natosh protect us!" the Indian said.

  They energetically pressed the flanks of their horses, lifting them atthe same moment, and the two noble animals leaped into the river,uttering a snort of terror. The Apaches arrived at this moment on thebrow of the hill, and could not restrain a yell of disappointment andwrath at the sight of the desperate act.

  The waters had closed over the fugitives, sending up to heaven a cloudof spray, but the horses soon reappeared swimming vigorously toward theother bank. The Indians had halted on the hill, insulting by their yellsand threats the victims who escaped by such a prodigy of daring. One ofthem, urged by his fury, and unable to pull up his horse in time,plunged into the Gila; but, having taken his precautions badly, the fallwas mortal to the horse.

  The Indian slipped off, and began striking out for the bank. Instead ofcontinuing his flight, as he should have done, Eagle-wing, impelled bythat spirit of bravado natural to the redskins, re-entered the riverwithout hesitation, and, at the moment when the Apache warriorreappeared on the surface, he bent over, seized him by his long hair,and buried his knife in his throat. Then, turning to his enemies, whowatched with a shudder this terrible drama, he drew up the wretch to hissaddle-bow, scalped him, and brandishing this sanguinary trophy with anair of triumph, he uttered his war yell.

  The Apaches poured a shower of bullets and arrows round the CorasSachem, who, standing motionless in the middle of the river, still wavedhis horrible trophy. At length he turned his horse's head, and rejoinedhis companion, who was awaiting him timorously on the bank.

  "Let us go," he said, as he fastened the scalp to his waist belt. "TheApaches are dogs, who can do nought but bark."

  "Let us go," she replied, as she turned her head away in horror.

  At the moment when they started again without troubling themselves abouttheir enemies, who, scattered along the other bank, were eagerly seekinga ford, Eagle-wing perceived a cloud of dust, which, on dissipating,permitted him to see a party of horsemen galloping up at lightningspeed.

  "There is no hope left," he muttered.