CHAPTER SIX.
A HOMERIC REPAST.
Early as are the white men astir, yet earlier are the red ones. For theCoyoteros, like the animal from which they derive their tribal name, domore of their prowling by night than by day. Moreover, it is the sultryseason, and they design reaching Nauchampa-tepetl before the sun gets sohigh and hot as to make travelling uncomfortable. Even savages are notaverse to comfort; though these are now thinking more about that oftheir horses than their own. They are on an expedition that will needkeeping the animals up to their best strength; and journeying in thenoon hours would distress and pull them down.
So nearly an hour before dawn declines itself they are up and active,moving about in the dim light, silent as spectres. Silent, not from anyfear of betraying their presence to an enemy--they know of none likelyto be near--but because it is their habit.
What they first do is to shift the picket-pins of their horses, or givegreater length to the trail-ropes, in order that the animals may get abite of clean fresh grass, that on which they were tethered throughoutthe night being now trampled down.
Next, they proceed to take care of themselves--to fortify the inner manwith a bit of breakfast. No fire is needed for the cooking it, and noneis kindled. The _mezcal_ and horse-meat pie has been baking all thenight; and now, near morning, they know it will be ready--done to aturn. It but needs the turf lifted off their primitive oven, and thecontents extracted.
Five or six, detailed for the task, at once set about it; first takingoff the top sods, now calcined and still smoking. Then the loose mould,which the fire has converted into ashes, is removed with more care. Itis hot, and needs handling gingerly; but the savage _cuisiniers_ knowhow, and soon the black bundle is exposed to view, the hide now hairlessand charred, but moist and reeking. It still adheres sufficiently tobear hoisting out, without fear of spilling the contents; and at lengthit is so lifted and carried to a clean spot of sward. Then cut open andspread out, there is displayed a steaming savoury mass, whose appetisingodour, borne upward and outward on the fresh morning air, inspires everyredskin around with delightful anticipations.
And not without reason either. To say nothing of the baked horseflesh--by many _gourmets_ esteemed a delectable dish--the corn of the _mezcal_,treated thus, is a viand palatable as peculiar. And peculiar it is,bearing resemblance to nothing I either know or can think of. Inappearance it is much like candied citron, with a sweetish taste too,only firmer and darker in colour. But while eating it the tongue seemspenetrated with a thousand tiny darts; a sort of prinkling sensation,quite indescribable, and, to one unaccustomed to it, not altogetheragreeable. In time this passes away; and he who has made the experimentof eating _mezcal_ comes to like it exceedingly. Many grand peopleamong the whites regard it in the light of a luxury; and as such it hasfound its way into most Mexican towns--even the capital itself--where itcommands a high price.
With the Apache Indians, as already said, it is a staple food, evengiving their tribal name to one branch of this numerous nation--theMezcaleros. But all eat of it alike, and the Coyoteros, _en bivouac_,show, by their knowledge of how to prepare it, that baked _mezcal_ isnoways new to them.
At the word "ready!" they gather around the hot steaming mass; and,regardless of scorched lips or tongues, set upon it with knife andtooth.
Soon the skin is cleaned out, every scrap of its contents eaten. Theycould eat the hide too, and would, were there a pinch. But there isnone such now, and it is left for their namesakes, the coyotes.
A smoke follows the Homeric repast, for all American Indians areaddicted to the use of the nicotian weed. They were so before thecaravels of Columbus spread sail on the Haytian seas.
Every Coyotero in camp has his pipe and pouch of tobacco, be it genuineor adulterated; this depending on how their luck has been running, orhow recent their latest raid upon some settlement of the palefaces.
Pipes smoked out and returned to their places of deposit, all are afootagain. Nothing more now but to draw picket-pins, coil up trail-ropes,mount, and move off; for their horse caparison, scant and easilyadjusted, is already on.
The chief gives the order "to horse," not in words, but by example--springing upon the back of his own. Then they ride off, as before, information "by twos," each file falling into rank as the line lengthensout upon the plain.
Scarce is the last file clear of the abandoned camp-ground ere thisbecomes occupied by animated beings of another kind--wolves, whosehowling has been heard throughout all the night. Having scented theslaughtered horse, these now rush simultaneously towards it, to disputethe banquet of bones.
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Shortly after leaving the camp the marching redskins lose sight of theCerro. This is accounted for by a dip in the plain, with a ridgelikeswell beyond, which runs transversely to their course. The hollowcontinues for several miles before the mountain will be again in view;but, well knowing the way, they need not this to guide them. Nor arethey in any particular hurry. They can reach their intendedhalting-place by the lake long ere the sun becomes sultry, there to lieup till the cool hours of evening. So they move leisurely along, andwith a purpose--to spare the sinews of their horses.
They talk enough now, loudly and laughingly. They have slept well, andbreakfasted satisfactorily; besides, it is broad daylight, and no dangerto be apprehended, no fear of hostile surprise. For all that they keeptheir eyes on the alert through habitude, every now and then scanningthe horizon around.
Soon they see that which gives them something serious to speak about.Not upon the horizon, nor anywhere upon the plain, but up in the heavensabove it--birds. What of them? And what in their appearance to attractthe attention of the Coyoteros? Nothing, or not much, were the birdsother than they are. But they are vultures, black vultures of twosorts--_gallinazos_ and _zopilotes_. Nor would the Indians think ofgiving them a second glance were they soaring about in their ordinaryway, wheeling in circles and spirals. But they are not; instead,passing overhead in straight onward flight, with a quick, earnest plyingof wings, evidently making for some point where they expect to stoopupon carrion. Scores there are of them, straggled out in a long stream,but all flying in one direction--the same in which the savages arethemselves proceeding--towards Nauchampa-tepetl.
What can be drawing the vultures thither? This the question which theIndians ask one another, in their own formularies of speech; none ableto answer it, save by conjecture. Without in any way alarming, thespectacle excites them; and they quicken their pace, eager to learn whatis attracting the birds. It should be something more than dead antelopeor deer, so many are tending towards it, and from so far. For theirhigh flight, straight onward, tells of their having been for some timekeeping the same course.
Hastening on up the slope of the swell, the dusky horsemen once morecatch sight of the mountain, there to see what brings them to an abrupthalt--a filmy purplish haze hanging over its southern end, morescattered higher up in the sky. Is it fog rising from the water theyknow to be there? No: smoke, as their practised eyes tell them afterregarding it a moment. And with like celerity they interpret it, asproceeding from the fire, or fires, of a camp. Other travellers,anticipating them, are encamped by Nauchampa-tepetl,
Who? Opatas? Not likely. Sons of toil--_Indicos mansos_--slaves, asthese the _bravos_, their kindred only in race, scornfully call them--the Opatas keep to their towns, and the patches of cultivation aroundthem. Improbable that they should have ventured into that wilderness sofar from home. More likely it is a party of palefaces; men in search ofthat shining metal which, as the Apaches know, has often lured theirwhite enemies into the very heart of the desert, their own domain, andto destruction--themselves the destroyers. If the smoke of those campfires they now see be over such a party, then is it doomed--at least somentally resolve the red centaurs, hoping it may be thus.
While still gazing at the blue cloud, taking its measure, and d
iscussingthe probabilities of who and what sort of men may be under it, anotherappears before their eyes; this whiter and of smaller size--a mere puffsuddenly rising over the crest of the _mesa_, and separating from it asit drifts higher.
From the fire of a gun, or guns, as the Coyoteros can tell, though notby any crack of one having reached their ears, since none has. In therarefied atmosphere of the high-lying _llanos_ the eye has the advantageof the ear, sounds being heard only at short distance. They are stillmore than ten miles from the mountain, and the report of a cannon,discharged on its summit, would be barely audible to them.
Still staying at halt, but keeping to their horses, the chief and othersin authority enter into consultation. And while they are deliberatingon the best course to be pursued, still another puff of smoke shoots upover the _mesa_, similar to that preceding, but at a different point.It aids them in coming to conclusions; for now they are sure there is acamp of palefaces by the pond; and they above are hunters who have goneup to get game, which the Indians know to be there in abundance.
But what sort of palefaces? Of this they are not sure. Knowing it tobe a miners' camp, they would ride straight on for it, in gallop. Butit may be an encampment of _soldados_, which would make a difference.Not that the Coyoteros are afraid to encounter Mexican soldiers--farfrom it. Rather would they rejoice at finding it these. For theirtribe, their own branch of it, has an old score against the men inuniform; and nothing would please them better than an opportunity tosettle it. Indeed, partly to seek this, with purposes of plundercombined, are they now on the _war-trail_. Only in their mode of actionwould there be a difference, in the event of the encampment turning outto be occupied by _soldados_. Soldiers in that quarter should becavalry, and to approach them caution would be called for, withstrategy. But these red centaurs are soldiers themselves--veterans,skilled, cunning strategists--and now give proof of it. For the timehas come for them to advance; which they do, not straight forward nor insingle body, but broken into two bands, one facing right, the otherleft, with a design to enfilade the camp by approaching it from oppositepoints. Separating at the start, the two cohorts soon diverge wideapart, both making for the mountain, but with the intention to reach itssouthern end on different sides.
If the black vultures, still in streaming flight above, have hopes ofgetting a repast there, they may now feel assured of its being aplenteous one.