The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West
CHAPTER XXVI.
DONA CLARA.
Valentine had been warned, nearly an hour previously, by Unicorn of theresult of the negotiations with the governor of Santa Fe, and theimmediate liberation of the prisoners; he was, therefore, expectingthem. Though they were ignorant where to find him, Valentine presumedthat the chief would leave some Indian to direct them, and, therefore,did not feel at all surprised at seeing them. So soon as he noticedtheir approach he walked to meet them, followed by Don Pablo and themissionary, while the hacendero and his comrade on their side prickedon to join them sooner.
A few hours were spent, after the first greetings were over, in aconference, of which the poor child so audaciously carried off was thesole subject. Valentine drew up with his friends the plan of thecampaign against Red Cedar, which was so daring that it would have madea European nervous; but the free adventurers who were about to carry itout in no way feared the mysterious dangers of the desert which theywere going to confront. We say, free, because Father Seraphin had takenleave of his friends and found Unicorn, with whom he wished to go to theComanche villages, in the hope of spreading the light of the Gospelthere. Still, he did not despair about, meeting his friends in theprairies, whither he was himself proceeding. Toward evening, Curumillaarrived. The Araucano was covered with dust, and his face damp withperspiration; Not uttering a word, he sat down by the fire, took hiscalumet from his girdle, and began smoking. Valentine let him do sowithout asking a question, but so soon as he saw him absorbed in hispipe, he laid his hand on his shoulder.
"Well?" he said to him.
"Curumilla has seen them."
"Good; are they numerous?"
"Ten times the number of fingers on my two hands, and one more."
"_Caramba!_" Valentine exclaimed, "Are they so many as that? We shallhave a tough job in that case."
"They are bold hunters," the chief added.
"Hum! Do you know when they will start?"
"This evening, when the new moon rises."
"Ah, ah! I read their plan," the hunter said. "They intend crossing theford of the Toro before day."
Curumilla bowed his head in affirmation.
"That is true," Valentine remarked; "once the ford is passed they willbe in the desert, and have comparatively nothing to fear, or at leastthey suppose so. I must confess," he added, addressing his friends,"that Red Cedar is a remarkably clever scoundrel; nothing, escapes him,but this time he has a' tough adversary. I have my revenge to take onhim, and, with the help of Heaven, it shall be exemplary."
"What shall we do?" Don Miguel asked.
"Sleep," Valentine answered, "we have still several hours before us, solet us profit by them; in the new life we are beginning, we must neglectnothing, the body and mind must repose, so that we may act vigorously."
Curumilla had slipped away but now returned, bringing with him tworifles, pistols, and knives.
"My brothers had no weapons," he said, as he laid his load before theMexicans.
The latter thanked him heartily; for, owing to the foresight ofCurumilla, who thought of everything, they could now enter the desertboldly. Two minutes later the five men were fast asleep, and we willtake advantage of their slumber to return to Red Cedar, whom we left onthe point of climbing through Dona Clara's window, while Fray Ambrosioand Andres Garote were watching at either end of the street.
At one bound the bandit was in the room, after breaking open the windowwith a blow of his fist. Dona Clara, suddenly aroused, leaped from thebed, uttering fearful cries at the sight of the terrible apparitionbefore her.
"Silence," Red Cedar said to her, in a threatening voice, as he placedthe point of his knife on her chest, "one cry more, and I kill you likea dog."
The maiden, trembling with fright, looked pitifully at the bandit; butRed Cedar's face wore such an expression of cruelty, that she understoodhow little she had to hope from this man. She addressed a silent prayerto Heaven, and resigned herself to her fate. The bandit gagged the poorchild with the rebozo that lay on the bed, threw her over his shoulder,and clambered out of the window again. So soon as he put foot on theground, he whistled lightly for his comrades to rejoin him, which theydid immediately, and, still carrying his burthen, he proceeded with themin the direction of the Rancho del Coyote.
During the walk, which was not a long one, the bandits did not meet asoul. Andres opened the door and lit a candle; the ruffians entered, andthe door was carefully bolted again. Thus, after only a few hours ofliberty, the wretched girl had fallen once more into the hands of herravishers, and placed again by them in the wretched room where she hadspent so many days in prayer and weeping. Red Cedar carried Dona Clara,who was in a half-fainting state, to her room, removed the rebozo, andthen returned to the bar.
"There;" he said, with satisfaction, "that is all right; the sheep hasreturned to the fold. What do you say, reverend father? This time let ushope she will not escape us."
The monk smiled.
"We shall do well in not remaining here long," he said.
"Why so?"
"Because this hiding place is known and will soon be visited."
The squatter shrugged his shoulders.
"Listen! Fray Ambrosio," he said, with a sinister grimace, which heintended for a smile. "I predict that, rogue as you are, you run a greatchance of dying in a fool's skin, if you are not flayed beforehand,which may easily be the case."
The monk shuddered. Red Cedar's gaiety had the peculiarity of being evenmore fearful than his anger. The squatter sat down on a bench, andturned to the gambusino.
"Drink!" he said roughly.
Garote fetched a jar of mezcal, which he placed before his terribleaccomplice. The latter, not taking the trouble to pour the liquor into aglass, raised the jar to his lips, and drank till breath failed him.
"Hum!" he said, with a click of his tongue, "That's pleasant tipple whenyou're thirsty. Listen to my orders, my dear children, and try to carrythem out to the letter; or, if not, your roguish hides will bear theblame."
The three men bowed silently.
"You, Nathan," he went on, "will come with me, for you are not wantedhere, but your presence is necessary at. Cerro Prieto, where ourcomrades are encamped."
"I will follow you," the young man replied, laconically.
"Good! Now, you others, bear this carefully in mind:--Our enemies willnever suppose that I have made such a mistake as to bring my prisonerback here; for that is so absurd, that the idea will never enter theirheads; so you can be at ease, and no one will trouble your peace ofmind. Tomorrow, so soon as the moon rises, you will make the girl put onan Indian dress, mount her, and come to me at Cerro Prieto. Immediatelyafter your arrival we shall start."
"Good!" Fray Ambrosio answered. "We will take care."
"I expect so; for, if you do not, I wouldn't give a _cuartillo_ for youraccursed hide, my reverend friend."
After uttering these friendly words, the squatter seized the jar ofmezcal, emptied it at a draught, and sent it flying across the room,where it broke to pieces.
"Good bye till tomorrow," he then said, "come, Nathan."
"Till tomorrow," they answered.
The squatter and his son left the rancho, and walked on silently side byside, plunged in gloomy reflections produced by the events of the night.They soon left the town. The night was gloomy, but darkness did notexist for squatters accustomed to find their way anywhere, and neverdreaming of going astray. They walked thus for a long time, with slungrifle, not exchanging a word, but listening to the slightest noise andsounding, the darkness with their tiger-cat eyes. All at once they heardthe firm footfall of a man coming towards them. They cocked theirrifles, ready for any emergency. A voice was then heard, though theperson to whom it belonged was invisible.
"My brothers must not fire; they would kill a friend."
The words were Apache--a language well known to the squatters.
"Tis an Indian," said Nathan.
"Do you think I did not recognise him?" R
ed Cedar replied, brutally;"then," he added, in the same dialect, "there are no friends in theshadow of the desert. My brother must get out of my path, or I will killhim like a coyote."
"Is it thus," the Indian continued, "that the 'maneater' receives theguide whom Stanapat, the Great Chief of the Apaches, sends him? In thatcase, good-bye. I will retire."
"One moment," the squatter said, sharply, as he lowered his rifle, andmade his son a sign to follow his example. "I could not guess who youwere. Advance without fear and be welcome, brother, for I was anxiouslyexpecting you."
The Indian stepped forward. He wore the costume and characteristic paintof the Apache warriors; in a word, he was so well disguised, thatValentine himself could not, have recognised in him his friend,Eagle-wing the Chief of the Coras, though it was he.
Red Cedar, delighted at the arrival of his guide, received him in themost affable manner. He had long been acquainted with Stanapat, the mostferocious warrior of all the Indian nations that traverse the immenseregions of the Rio Gila, and whom we shall presently visit. Afterseveral questions, which Eagle-wing answered without hesitation or oncetripping, Red Cedar, convinced that he was really the man the Apachechief had promised to send him, dismissed all doubt, and conversed withhim in the most friendly spirit, inquiring after certain warriors he hadformerly known.
"What is my brother's name?" he asked, in conclusion.
"The Heart of Stone!" Eagle-wing replied.
"Good!" the squatter said, "My brother has a grand name. He must be arenowned warrior in his tribe."
A short time after, the three men reached the camp of the gambusinos,established in a formidable position on the top of a rock called theCerro Prieto (Black Mountain). The miners greeted Red Cedar's arrivalwith the most lively joy, for his presence announced a speedy departure;and all these semi-savages, the greater part of whose life had beenspent in the prairies, were anxious to quit civilization to re-assumetheir adventurous career, which was so full of charms and strangeincidents.