CHAPTER XXII.

  EXPLANATORY.

  We are compelled to retrograde a short distance in our story, in orderto explain to the reader the arrival of that help which in an instantaltered the face of the fight, and saved Valentine and his friends fromcaptivity, probably from death.

  Unicorn carefully watched the movements of Red Cedar and his band; sincethe Pirate's arrival on the desert he had not once let him out of sight.Hidden in the chaparral on the riverbank, he had been an unseenspectator of the bandit's fight with the hunters; but, with that cautionwhich forms the basis of the Indian character, he had left his friendsperfect liberty to act as they thought proper, with the design ofinterfering when necessary.

  When he saw the Pirates disarmed, and reduced to his last shifts, heconsidered it useless to follow him longer, and proceeded in thedirection of his village, to assemble his warriors, and go at their headto attack the camp of the scalp hunters.

  The Comanche chief was alone with his squaw, from whom he scarcely everseparated; they were both galloping along the bank of the Gila, beingcareful to hide themselves among the brushwood, when suddenly deafeningcries, mingled with shots, and the hasty gallop of a horse, struck hisears.

  Unicorn made his companion a signal to halt, and dismounted; then,cautiously crawling among the trees, he glided like a serpent throughthe tall grass to the skirt of the chaparral which sheltered him. Onreaching this point he cautiously rose on his knees and looked out.

  A man, bearing a fainting woman across his saddle-bow, was coming up atfull speed; in the distance several Indian warriors, doubtless weariedof an useless pursuit, were slowly retiring, while the fugitive rapidlydrew nearer Unicorn.

  The chief perceived at the first glance that he was a white. On arrivingwithin a short distance of the spot where he lay in ambush, the newcomerlooked round several times nervously; then he dismounted, took thefemale in his arms, laid her tenderly on the grass, and ran to the riverto fill his hat with water. It was Harry, the Canadian hunter, and thefemale was Ellen.

  So soon as he had gone off, Unicorn started from his hiding place,giving his wife a sign to follow him, and both approached the maiden,who was lying senseless on the ground. Sunbeam knelt by the side of theAmerican girl, gently raised her head, and began paying her thosedelicate attentions of which women alone possess the secret. Almostimmediately after, Harry ran up; but at the sight of the Indian hehurriedly dropped his hat, and drew a pistol from his girdle.

  "Wah!" Unicorn said quickly, "My pale brother need not pull out hisweapons--I am a friend."

  "A friend?" Harry replied, ill-humouredly; "Can a redskin warrior be thefriend of a white man?"

  The chief crossed his arms on his broad chest, and boldly walked up tothe hunter.

  "I was hidden ten paces from you," he said; "had I been an enemy, thepaleface would have been dead ere now."

  The Canadian shook his head.

  "That is possible," he said; "may heaven grant that you speak frankly,for the struggle I have gone through in saving this poor girl has soexhausted me that I could not defend her against you."

  "Good!" the Indian continued, "She has nothing to fear; Unicorn is chiefof his nation, when he gives his word he must be believed."

  And he honestly offered his hand to the hunter. The latter hesitated fora moment, then suddenly forming a resolution, he cordially pressed thehand, saying--

  "I believe you, chief; your name is known to me; you have the reputationof a wise man and brave warrior, so I trust to you; but I implore you tohelp me in recovering this unhappy girl."

  Sunbeam gently raised her head, and gave the hunter a glance of tendersympathy, as she said in her harmonious voice--

  "The pale virgin runs no danger, in a few minutes she will come toherself again; my brother may be at his ease."

  "Thanks, thanks, young woman," the Canadian said, warmly; "the hope yougive me fills me with joy; I can now think about avenging my poor Dick."

  "What does my brother mean?" the chief asked, surprised at the flash offury from the hunter's dark eye.

  The latter, reassured as to the state of his companion, and attracted bythe open and honest reception the Indian gave him, did not hesitate toconfide to him not only what had occurred to himself, but also thecauses which had brought him into this deserted country.

  "Now," he said in the close, "I have only one desire--to place this girlin security, and then avenge my friend."

  The Indian has listened unmoved and without interruption to the hunter'slong story. When he had finished he seemed to reflect for some minutes,and then answered the Canadian, as he laid his hand on his shoulder--

  "Then my brother wishes to take vengeance on the Apaches?"

  "Yes!" the hunter exclaimed; "So soon as this girl is in a safe place Iwill go on their trail."

  "Ah!" the Indian said, as he shook his head, "One man cannot fight withfifty."

  "I do not care for the number of my enemies so long as I can come upwith them."

  Unicorn gave the daring young man an admiring glance.

  "Good!" he said, "My brother is brave--I will help him to hisvengeance."

  At this moment Ellen partly opened her eyes.

  "Where am I?" she murmured.

  "Reassure yourself, Ellen," the hunter replied; "for the moment at leastyou have nothing to fear as you are surrounded by friends."

  "Where is Dona Clara? I do not see her," she continued, in a weak voice.

  "I will tell you presently, Ellen, what has happened to her," the hunterremarked.

  Ellen sighed and was silent; she understood that Harry would not tellher fresh misfortune in her present state of weakness. Owing toSunbeam's increasing attentions she, however, soon completely regainedher senses.

  "Does my sister feel her strength returned?" the squaw asked heranxiously.

  "Oh," she said, "I am quite well now."

  Unicorn looked fixedly at her.

  "Yes," he said, "my sister is at present in a condition to travel. It istime to start, our road is long; Sunbeam will give her horse to the palevirgin, that she may be able to follow us."

  "Where do you intend taking us, chief?" the hunter asked, withbadly-veiled anxiety.

  "Did not my brother say that he wished to avenge himself?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Well, he can follow me, and I will lead him to those who will helphim."

  "Hum!" the Canadian muttered, "I require nobody for that."

  "My brother is mistaken; he requires allies, for the enemy he will haveto fight is powerful."

  "That is possible. But I should like to know these allies, at any rate;I am not inclined to league myself with the villainous bandits, whoflock to the desert and dishonour our colour. I am a frank and honesthunter, for my part."

  "My brother has spoken well," the chief answered, with a smile; "he canbe at rest, and place entire confidence in those to whom I am about tolead him."

  "Who are they, then?"

  "One is the father of the maiden the Apaches have carried off, theothers--"

  "Stay, chief," the hunter quickly exclaimed, "that is sufficient, I donot want to know the rest. We will start when you please, and I willfollow you anywhere."

  "Good; my brother will get the horses ready, while I give someindispensable orders to my squaw."

  Harry bowed in sign of acquiescence, and deftly accomplished the task,while the Comanche took his wife aside, and conversed with her in awhisper.

  "Now we will go," the Comanche said, as he returned to the hunter.

  "Does not Sunbeam accompany us?" Ellen asked.

  "No," the chief answered laconically.

  The young Indian woman smiled pleasantly on the squatter's daughter andgliding swiftly among the trees, disappeared almost instantaneously.The others mounted and started at a gallop in the opposite direction.

  The Comanche warrior fancied he knew where to find Valentine and hiscomrades, and hence went in a direct line to the Teocali.

  After the Tr
ail-hunter's departure, Don Miguel and the other charactersof our story, who remained in Bloodson's fortress, continued to sleeppeaceably for several hours, and when they awoke the sun was alreadyhigh on the horizon. The hacendero and the general, fatigued by theemotions of the preceding day, and but little accustomed to desert life,had yielded to sleep like men who require to regain their strength; whenthey opened their eyes, a plentiful meal awaited them.

  Several days passed without any incident. The stranger, in spite of thecordiality of his reception, maintained a certain degree of reserve withhis guests, only speaking to them when it was absolutely necessary, butnever seeking to begin with them one of those conversations in whichpeople gradually forget themselves, and insensibly glide intoconfidential talk. There was something frigid about the manner of thisstrange man, which could not be explained, but which prevented anyfriendly relations.

  One evening, at the moment when Don Miguel and the general werepreparing to lie down on the skins of wild beasts, which served as theirbed, their host approached them. Through the day the two gentlemen hadnoticed a certain agitation among the denizens in the Teocali. Anunusual excitement had prevailed, and it was plain that Bloodson wasabout to attempt one of those daring expeditions to which he wasaccustomed.

  Although the two Mexicans eagerly desired to know their host's projects,they were too much men of the world to question him, and restrainedtheir curiosity while patiently awaiting an explanation which he wouldnot fail soon to give them.

  "Good news, caballeros," he said, as he joined them.

  "Oh, oh!" the general muttered, "That's novel fruit here."

  Don Miguel awaited their host's explanation.

  "One of my friends," Bloodson continued, "arrived here this morning,accompanied by a Canadian hunter and Red Cedar's daughter."

  At this unexpected good news the Mexicans started with joy and surprise.

  "Ah," Don Miguel said, "she will be a precious hostage for us."

  "That is what I thought," Bloodson continued; "however, the poor childis perfectly innocent of her father's crimes; and if she is at thismoment in our power, it is only because she wished to save yourdaughter, Don Miguel."

  "What do you mean?" the hacendero asked, with an internal tremor.

  "You shall understand it," Bloodson answered.

  And without any further preamble, he told his listeners all the detailsconnected with the flight of the girls, which the reader already knows.

  When he had finished his narrative there was a moment's silence.

  "The position is a serious one," the general said, shaking his head.

  "We must save our friends, at all risks," Don Miguel exclaimed,impetuously.

  "That is my intention," said Bloodson; "at present the position ofaffairs is improved."

  "How so?" the hacendero asked.

  "Because it is better for Dona Clara to be a prisoner with the Apachesthan with Red Cedar."

  "That is true," Don Miguel observed.

  "How can we get her out of their clutches?" asked the general.

  "That does not embarrass me," Bloodson said; "tomorrow, at daybreak, wewill start with all our people, and go to Unicorn's village, who willjoin his warriors to ours, and then we will attack the Apaches in theirvillage."

  "Very good; but shall we be sure of finding my daughter at the village?"

  "In the desert everything is seen and known. Do you fancy that DonValentine has remained inactive since he left us? You may feel assuredthat he has long been on the trail of the young lady, if he has notalready liberated her."

  "May heaven grant it," the father remarked with a mournful sigh; "butwho will advise us of what he has done?"

  "Himself, you may be convinced of that. Still, as we are a very longdistance from the village where your daughter is probably confined, wemust hasten to get nearer to her; hence, my guests, get up yourstrength, for tomorrow will be a tiring day, I warn you. Now, permit meto wish you good night, and leave you, in order to give my finalorders."

  "One word more, I beg of you."

  "Speak."

  "What do you intend doing with the girl whom a strange accident hasthrown into your power?"

  "I do not know; events will decide her fate; I shall regulate my conductby that of our common enemy."

  "You said yourself," Don Miguel continued, "that the girl is innocent ofher father's crimes."

  Bloodson gave him a peculiar glance

  "Do you not know, Don Miguel," he answered, in a hollow voice, "that inthis world the innocent always suffer for the guilty?"

  And, not adding a word further, he gave the Mexicans a profound bow, andslowly retired.

  The two gentlemen looked after him, as he gradually disappeared in thegloom of the Teocali; then they fell back on their beds despondingly,not daring to impart to each other the sorrowful thoughts that oppressedthem.