CHAPTER I.

  THE PRAIRIE.

  To the westward of the United States extends, many hundred miles beyondthe Mississippi, an immense territory, unknown up to this day, composedof uncultivated lands, on which stands neither the log house of thewhite man nor the hatto of the Indian.

  This vast desert, intersected by dark forests, with mysterious pathstraced by the steps of wild beasts, and by verdant prairies with highand tufted herbage that undulates with the slightest breeze, is wateredby powerful streams, of which the principal are the great Canadianriver, the Arkansas, and the Red River.

  Over these plains, endowed with so rich a vegetation, wander innumerabletroops of wild horses, buffaloes, elks, bighorns, and those thousands ofanimals which the civilization of the other parts of America is everyday driving back, and which regain their primitive liberty in theseregions.

  On this account, the most powerful Indian tribes have established theirhunting grounds in this country.

  The Delawares, the Creeks, and the Osages, prowl along the frontiers ofthe desert up to the environs of the establishments of the Americans,with whom some few bonds of civilization are beginning to unite them,engaged in constant conflict with the hordes of Pawnees, Blackfeet,Assiniboins, and Comanches, indomitable races, nomads of the prairies,or inhabitants of the mountains, who permeate in all directions thisdesert, the proprietorship of which none of them venture to assert, butwhich they appear to agree to devastate, uniting in vast numbers forhunting parties, as if for the purpose of making war.

  In fact, the enemies travellers are exposed to encounter in thesedeserts are of all kinds; without mentioning in this place wild beasts,there are hunters, trappers, and partisans, who are not less formidableto the Indians than to their fellow countrymen.

  The prairie, therefore, the sinister theatre of incessant and terriblecontests, is nothing in reality but a vast charnel house, in whichperish obscurely, every year, in a merciless war of ambuscades, tens ofthousands of intrepid men.

  Nothing can be more grand or more majestic than the aspect of theseprairies, into which Providence has bounteously bestowed suchinnumerable riches,--nothing, more seductive than these green fields,these thick forests, these large rivers; the melancholy murmur ofthe waters rippling over the stones of the shallow stream, the songsof thousands of birds concealed under the foliage, the bounding ofanimals sporting amidst the high grass: everything enchants, everythingattracts, and draws aside the fascinated traveller, who soon, the victimof his enthusiasm, will fall into one of those numberless snares laidunder his feet among the flowers, and will pay with his life for hisimprudent credulity.

  Towards the end of the year 1837, in the latter days of the month ofSeptember, by the Indians called the moon of the falling leaves--a man,still young, and who, from his complexion, notwithstanding his costumewas entirely like that of the Indians, it was easy to perceive was awhite man, was seated, about an hour before sunset, near a fire, thewant of which began to be felt at this period of the year, at one of themost unfrequented spots of the prairie we have just described.

  This man was at most thirty-five to thirty-six years old, though a fewdeeply marked wrinkles on his broad white forehead seemed to indicate amore advanced age.

  His features were handsome and noble, and impressed with that prideand energy which a savage life imparts. His black eyes, starting fromhis head, and crowned with thick eye-brows, had a mild and melancholyexpression, that tempered their brilliancy and vivacity; the lower partof his face disappeared beneath a long, thick beard, the bluish tint ofwhich contrasted with the peculiar paleness spread over his countenance.

  He was tall, slender, and perfectly well proportioned; his nervouslimbs, upon which rose muscles of extreme rigidity, proved that he wasendowed with more than common strength. In short, the whole of hisperson inspired that respectful sympathy which superior natures attractmore easily in these countries than in ours, where physical strength isnearly always the attribute of the brute.

  His remarkably simple attire was composed of a mitasse, or a kind ofclose drawers falling down to his ankles, and fastened to his hipsby a leather belt, and of a cotton hunting shirt, embroidered withornaments in wool of different colours, which descended to his midleg.This blouse, open in front, left exposed his embrowned chest, upon whichhung a scapulary of velvet, from a slight steel chain. Short boots ofuntanned deerskin protected him from the bites of reptiles, and roseto his knees. A cap made of the skin of a beaver, whose tail hung downbehind, covered his head, while long and luxuriant curls of black hair,which were beginning to be threaded with white, fell beneath it over hisbroad shoulder. This man was a hunter.

  A magnificent rifle laid within reach of his hand, the game bag whichwas hung to his shoulder belt and the two buffalo horns, suspended athis girdle, and filled with powder and balls, left no doubt in thisrespect. Two long double pistols were carelessly thrown near his rifle.

  The hunter, armed with that long knife called a machete, or ashort-bladed straight sabre, which the inhabitants of the prairies neverlay aside, was occupied in conscientiously skinning a beaver, whilstcarefully watching the haunch of a deer which was roasting at the fire,suspended by a string, and listening to the slightest noises that arosein the prairies.

  The spot where this man was seated was admirably chosen for a halt of afew hours.

  It was a clearing at the summit of a moderately elevated hill, which,from its position, commanded the prairie for a great distance, andprevented a surprise. A spring bubbled up at a few paces from the placewhere the hunter had established his bivouac, and descended, forming acapricious cascade; to the plain. The high and abundant grass affordedan excellent pasto for two superb horses, with wild and sparkling eyes,which, safely tethered, were enjoying their food at a short distancefrom him. The fire, lighted with dry wood, and sheltered on three sidesby the rock, only allowed a thin column of smoke to escape, scarcelyperceptible at ten paces' distance, and a screen of all trees concealedthe encampment from the indiscreet looks of those persons who wereprobably in ambuscade in the neighbourhood.

  In short, all precautions necessary for the safety of the hunter hadbeen taken with that prudence which announces a profound knowledge ofthe life of a wood ranger.

  The red fires of the setting sun tinged with beautiful reflectionsthe tops of the great trees, and the sun itself was on the point ofdisappearing behind the mountains which bounded the horizon, when thehorses, suddenly ceasing their repast, raised their heads and prickledtheir ears--signs of restlessness which did not escape the hunter.

  Although he heard no suspicious sound, and all appeared calm around him,he hastened to place the skin of the beaver before the fire, stretchedupon two crossed sticks, and, without rising, he put out his handtowards his rifle.

  The cry of the jay was heard, and repeated thrice at regular intervals.

  The hunter laid his rifle by his side again with a smile, and resumedhis watchful attention to the supper. Almost immediately the grass wasviolently opened, and two magnificent bloodhounds bounded up and laydown by the hunter, who patted them for an instant, and not withoutdifficulty quieted their caresses.

  The horses had carelessly resumed their interrupted repast.

  The dogs only preceded by a few minutes a second hunter, who made hisappearance almost immediately in the clearing.

  This new personage, much younger than the first,--for he did not appearto be more than twenty-two years old,--was a tall, thin, agile andpowerfully-built man, with a slightly-rounded head, lighted by two greyeyes, sparkling with intelligence, and endowed with a physiognomy openand loyal, to which long light hair gave a somewhat childish appearance.

  He was clothed in the same costume as his companion, and on arriving,threw down by the fire a string of birds which he was carrying at hisshoulder.

  The two hunters then, without exchanging a word, set about preparing oneof those suppers which long exercise has always the privilege of causingto be considered excellent.

 
The night had completely set in; the desert awoke by degrees; thehowlings of wild beasts already resounded in the prairie.

  The hunters, after supping with a good appetite, lit their pipes, andplacing their backs to the fire, in order that the flame should notprevent them from perceiving the approach of any suspicious visitor whomdarkness might bring them, smoked with the enjoyment of people who,after a long and painful journey, taste an instant of repose which theymay not meet with again for some time.

  "Well!" the first hunter said laconically between two puffs of tobacco.

  "You were right," the other replied.

  "Ah!"

  "Yes, we have kept too much to the right, it was that which made us losethe scent."

  "I was sure of it," the first speaker replied; "you see, Belhumeur, youtrust too much to your Canadian habits: the Indians with whom we have todo here in no way resemble the Iroquois, who visit the hunting groundsof your country."

  Belhumeur nodded his head in sign of acquiescence.

  "After all," the other continued, "this is of very little importance atthis moment; what is urgent is to know who are our thieves."

  "I know."

  "Good!" the other said, withdrawing his pipe quickly from his mouth;"and who are the Indians who have dared to steal the traps marked withmy cipher?"

  "The Comanches."

  "I suspected as much. By heavens, ten of our best traps stolen duringthe night! I swear, Belhumeur, that they shall pay for them dearly! Andwhere are the Comanches at this moment?"

  "Within three leagues of us at most. It is a party of plundererscomposed of a dozen men; according to the direction they are following,they are turning to their mountains."

  "They shall not all arrive there," said the hunter, casting a glance athis rifle.

  "Parbleu!" said Belhumeur with a loud laugh, "they will only get whatthey deserve. I leave it to you, Loyal Heart, to punish them for theirinsult; but you will be still more determined to avenge yourself uponthem when you know by whom they are commanded."

  "Ah! ah! I know their chief then?"

  Belhumeur said, slightly smiling, "it is _Nehu Nutah_."

  "Eagle Head!" cried Loyal, almost bounding from his seat. "Oh, oh! yes,I know him, and God grant that this time. I may settle the old accountthere is between us. His moccasins have long enough trodden the samepath with me and barred my passage."

  After pronouncing these word with an accent of hatred that madeBelhumeur shudder, the hunter, sorry at having allowed the anger whichmastered him to appear, resumed his pipe and continued to smoke with afeigned carelessness that did not at all impose upon his companion.

  The conversation was interrupted.

  The two hunters appeared to be absorbed in profound reflections, andsmoked silently by the side of each other.

  At length Belhumeur turned towards his companion.

  "Shall I watch?" he asked.

  "No," Loyal Heart replied, in a low voice; "sleep, I will be sentinelfor you and myself too."

  Belhumeur, without making the least observation, laid himself down bythe fire, and in a few minutes slept profoundly.

  When the owl hooted its matin song, which seemed to salute the speedyappearance of the sun, Loyal Heart, who during the night had remainedmotionless as a marble statue, awakened his companion.

  "It is time," said he.

  "Very good!" Belhumeur replied, rising immediately.

  The hunters saddled their horses, descended the hill with precaution,and galloped off upon the track of the Comanches.

  At this moment the sun appeared radiant in the heavens, dissipating thedarkness and illuminating the prairie with its magnificent and revivingradiance.