CHAPTER X.
THE ENTRENCHED CAMP.
We will leave the hunters following the track of the redskins, andreturn to the general.
A few minutes after the two men had quitted the camp of the Mexicans,the general left his tent, and whilst casting an investigating lookaround him, and inhaling the fresh air of the morning, he began to walkabout in a preoccupied manner.
The events of the night had produced a lively impression upon the oldsoldier.
For the first time, perhaps, since he had undertaken this expedition,he began to see it in its true light. He asked himself if he had reallythe right to associate with him in this life of continual perils andambushes, a girl of the age of his niece, whose existence up to thattime had been an uninterrupted series of mild and peaceful emotions;and who probably would not be able to accustom herself to the incessantdangers and agitations of a life in the prairies, which, in a shorttime, would break down the energies of the strongest minds.
His perplexity was great. He adored his niece; she was his only objectof love, his only consolation. For her he would, without regret orhesitation, a thousand times sacrifice all he possessed; but, on theother side, the reasons which had obliged him to undertake this perilousjourney were of such importance that he trembled, and felt a coldperspiration bedew his forehead, at the thought of renouncing it.
"What is to be done?" he said to himself. "What is to be done?"
Dona Luz, who was in her turn leaving her tent, perceived her uncle,whose reflective walk still continued, and, running towards him, threwher arms affectionately round his neck.
"Good day, uncle," she said, kissing him.
"Good day, my daughter," the general replied. He was accustomed to callher so. "Eh! eh! my child, you are very gay this morning."
And he returned with interest the caresses she had lavished upon him.
"Why should I not be gay, uncle? Thanks to God? we have just escaped agreat peril; everything in nature seems to smile, the birds are singingupon every branch, the sun inundates us with warm rays; we should beungrateful towards the Creator if we remained insensible to thesemanifestations of His goodness."
"Then the perils of last night have left no distressing impression uponyour mind, my dear child?"
"None at all, uncle, except a deep sense of gratitude for the benefitsGod has favoured us with."
"That is well, my daughter," the general replied joyfully, "I am happyto hear you speak thus."
"All the better, if it please you, uncle."
"Then," the general continued, following up the idea of hispreoccupation, "the life we are now leading is not fatiguing to you?"
"Oh, not at all; on the contrary, I find it very agreeable, and, aboveall, full of incidents," she said with a smile.
"Yes," the general continued, partaking her gaiety; "but," he added,becoming serious again, "I think we are too forgetful of our liberators."
"They are gone," Dona Luz replied.
"Gone?" the general said, with great surprise.
"Full an hour ago."
"How do you know that, my child?"
"Very simply, uncle, they bade me adieu before they left us."
"That is not right," the general murmured in a tone of vexation; "aservice is as binding upon those who bestow it as upon those who receiveit; they should not have left us thus without bidding me farewell,without telling us whether we should ever see them again, and leaving useven unacquainted with their names."
"I know them."
"You know them, my daughter?" the general said, with astonishment.
"Yes, uncle; before they went, they told me."
"And--what are they?" the general asked, eagerly.
"The younger is named Belhumeur."
"And the elder?"
"Loyal Heart."
"Oh! I must find these two men again," the general said, with an emotionhe could not account for.
"Who knows," the young girl replied, thoughtfully, "perhaps in the veryfirst danger that threatens us they will make their appearance as ourbenevolent genii."
"God grant we may not owe their return among us to a similar cause."
The captain came up to pay the compliments of the morning.
"Well, captain," said the general, with a smile, "have you recoveredfrom the effects of their alarm?"
"Perfectly, general," the young man replied, "and are quite ready toproceed, whenever you please to give the order."
"After breakfast we will strike tents; have the goodness to give thenecessary orders to the lancers, and send the Babbler to me."
The captain bowed and retired.
"On your part, niece," the general continued, addressing Dona Luz,"superintend the preparations for breakfast, if you please, whilst Italk to our guide."
The young lady tripped away, and the Babbler almost immediately entered.
His air was dull, and his manner more reserved than usual.
The general took no notice of this.
"You remember," he said, "that you yesterday manifested an intention offinding a spot where we might conveniently encamp for a few days?"
"Yes, general."
"You told me you were acquainted with a situation that would perfectlysuit our purpose?"
"Yes, general."
"Are you prepared to conduct us thither?"
"When you please."
"What time will it require to gain this spot?"
"Two days."
"Very well. We will set out, then, immediately after breakfast."
The Babbler bowed without reply.
"By the way," the general said, with feigned indifference, "one of yourmen seems to be missing."
"Yes."
"What is become of him?"
"I do not know."
"How! you do not know?" said the general, with a scrutinizing glance.
"No: as soon as he saw the fire, terror seized him, and he escaped."
"Very well!"
"He is most probably the victim of his cowardice."
"What do you mean by that?"
"The fire, most likely, has devoured him."
"Poor devil!"
A sardonic smile curled the lips of the guide.
"Have you anything more to say to me, general?"
"No;--but stop."
"I attend your orders."
"Do you know the two hunters who rendered us such timely service?"
"We all know each other in the prairie."
"What are those men?"
"Hunters and trappers."
"That is not what I ask you."
"What then?"
"I mean as to their character."
"Oh!" said the guide, with an appearance of displeasure.
"Yes, their moral character."
"I don't know anything much about them."
"What are their names?"
"Belhumeur and Loyal Heart."
"And you know nothing of their lives?"
"Nothing."
"That will do--you may retire."
The guide bowed, and with tardy steps rejoined his companions, who werepreparing for departure.
"Hum!" the general murmured, as he looked after him, "I must keep awatch upon that fellow; there is something sinister in his manner."
After this aside, the general entered his tent, where the doctor, thecaptain, and Dona Luz were waiting breakfast for him.
Half an hour later, at most, the tent was folded up again, the packageswere placed upon the mules, and the caravan was pursuing its journeyunder the direction of the Babbler, who rode about twenty paces inadvance of the troop.
The aspect of the prairie was much changed since the preceding evening.
The black, burnt earth, was covered in places with heaps of smokingashes; here and there charred trees, still standing, displayed theirsaddening skeletons; the fire still roared at a distance, and clouds ofcoppery smoke obscured the horizon.
The horses advanced with precaution over this uneven ground, where theycons
tantly stumbled over the bones of animals that had fallen victims tothe terrible embraces of the flames.
A melancholy sadness, much increased by the sight of the prospectunfolded before them, had taken possession of the travellers; theyjourneyed on, close to each other, without speaking, buried in their ownreflections.
The road the caravan was pursuing wound along a narrow ravine, the driedbed of some torrent, deeply enclosed between two hills.
The ground trodden by the horses was composed of round pebbles, whichslipped from under their hoofs, and augmented the difficulties of themarch, which was rendered still more toilsome by the burning rays ofthe sun, that fell directly down upon the travellers, leaving no chanceof escaping them, for the country over which they were travelling hadcompletely assumed the appearance of one of those vast deserts which aremet with in the interior of Africa.
The day passed away thus, and excepting the fatigue which oppressedthem, the monotony of the journey was not broken by any incident.
In the evening they encamped in a plain absolutely bare, but in thehorizon they could perceive an appearance of verdure, which affordedthem great consolation;--they were about, at last, to enter a zonespared by the conflagration.
The next morning, two hours before sunrise, the Babbler gave orders toprepare for departure.
The day proved more fatiguing than the last; the travellers wereliterally worn out when they encamped.
The Babbler had not deceived the general. The site was admirably chosento repel an attack of the Indians. We need not describe it; the readeris already acquainted with it. It was the spot on which we met with thehunters, when they appeared on the scene for the first time.
The general, after casting around him the infallible glance of theexperienced soldier, could not help manifesting his satisfaction.
"Bravo!" he said to the guide; "if we have had almost insurmountabledifficulties to encounter in getting here, we could at least, if thingsshould so fall out, sustain a siege on this spot."
The guide made no reply; he bowed with an equivocal smile, and retired.
"It is surprising," the general murmured to himself, "that although thatman's conduct may be in appearance loyal, and however impossible it maybe to approach him with the least thing,--in spite of all that, I cannotdivest myself of the presentiment that he is deceiving us, and that heis contriving some diabolical project against us."
The general was an old soldier of considerable experience, who wouldnever leave anything to chance, that _deus ex machina_, which in asecond destroys the best contrived plans.
Notwithstanding the fatigue of his people, he would not lose a moment;aided by the captain, he had an enormous number of trees cut down, toform a solid intrenchment, protected by _chevaux de frise_. Behindthis intrenchment the lancers dug a wide ditch, of which they threwout the earth on the side of the camp; and then, behind this secondintrenchment, the baggage was piled up, to make a third and lastenclosure.
The tent was pitched in the centre of the camp, the sentinels wereposted, and everyone else went to seek that repose of which they stoodso much in need.
The general, who intended sojourning on this spot for some time, wished,as far as it could be possible, to assure the safety of his companions,and, thanks to his minute precautions, he believed he had succeeded.
For two days the travellers had been marching along execrable roads,almost without sleep, only stopping to snatch a morsel of food; as wehave said, they were quite worn out with fatigue. Notwithstanding,then, their desire to keep awake, the sentinels could not resist thesleep which overpowered them and they were not long in sinking into ascomplete a forgetfulness as their companions.
Towards midnight, at the moment when everyone in the camp was plungedin sleep, a man rose softly, and creeping along in the shade, with thequickness of a reptile, but with extreme precaution, he glided out ofthe barricades and intrenchments.
He then went down upon the ground, and by degrees, in a manner almostinsensibly, directed his course, upon his hands and knees, through thehigh grass towards a forest which covered the first ascent of the hill,and extended some way into the prairie. When he had gone a certaindistance, and was safe from discovery, he rose up.
A moonbeam, passing between two clouds, threw a light upon hiscountenance.
That man was the Babbler.
He looked round anxiously, listened attentively, and then withincredible perfection imitated the cry of the prairie dog.
Almost instantly the same cry was repeated, and a man rose up, within atmost ten paces of the Babbler.
This man was the guide who, three days before, had escaped from the campon the first appearance of the conflagration.