The Indian Chief: The Story of a Revolution

  CHAPTER XIII.

  LA MAGDALENA.

  The village of La Magdalena occupies an important military position, forit commands the three roads that lead to Ures, Hermosillo, and Sonora,the chief cities of the State, and is nearly at an equal distance fromall three. This pueblo, in itself of but slight consideration, enjoys,however, a certain reputation in the country, owing to the beauty of itssituation and the purity of the air breathed there.

  La Magdalena forms a species of parallelogram, one side of whichcarelessly mirrors its white houses in the limpid waters of the RioSan Pedro, a confluent of the Gila. Dense woods of palma Christi,styrax, Peru trees, and mahogany form an insurmountable barrier againstthe burning winds of the desert, while refreshing and perfuming theatmosphere, and serve as a refuge for thousands of blue jays, cardinals,and loros, which chatter gaily under the foliage, and enliven theenchanting landscape--this ravishing oasis, placed there by the hand ofnature, as if to make the traveller returning from the prairie forgetthe sufferings and fatigues of the desert.

  The festivities in honour of the patron saint at La Magdalena are themost frequented and joyful of all Sonora. As they last several days, thehacenderos and campesinos flock in for a hundred miles round. Duringthis _fete_, at which rivers of pulque and mezcal flow, there is onesuccession of jaranas, montes, and bull baits; in a word, amusements ofevery description, which no crime ever saddens, in spite of the greatconcourse of strangers. The Mexicans are not wicked; they are only badlyeducated, headstrong, and passionate children, but nothing more.

  Three days after the events we narrated in our previous chapter, thePueblo de la Magdalena, at the most animated period of its annualfestival, was in a state of more than ordinary agitation and excitement,evidently not produced by the festival; for the people had suddenlybroken off their sports, and rushed, laughing and pressing, to one ofthe ends of the pueblo, where, according to the few words whispered bythe gossips, something out of the way was taking place.

  In fact, bugles soon sounded a call, and a band of armed men debouchedon the pueblo, marching in good order, and to military tunes. First camean advanced guard of a dozen well-mounted men; then came a company ofmen formed in squads of about thirty each, bearing among them a largebanner, on which was inscribed, "Independencia de la Sonora." Behindthis band came two guns drawn by mules, then a squadron of cavalry,immediately followed by a long file of wagons and carts. The march wasclosed by a rearguard of twenty horsemen.

  This small _army_, about three hundred strong, marched through thepueblo with heads raised and bold glances, passed the double row ofspectators, and stopped, at a signal from the chief, about one hundredyards in front of the village, at a triangle formed by the meeting ofthree roads. Here the troops were ordered to bivouac.

  It is almost needless to tell the reader that this _army_ was theAtrevida Company. The good conduct of the band, and its martial air,had gained the favour of the population of the pueblo through whichthey marched so boldly. During the passage handkerchiefs and sombreroswere waved, and cries of "Bravo!" were heard. The count, on horsebacka few paces ahead of the main body, had not ceased for a moment bowinggracefully to the right and left, and these salutes had been returnedwith usury all along the village.

  So soon as the order to bivouac was given, each set to work, and in lessthan two hours the adventurers, skilfully employing all within theirreach, had established the most graceful and picturesque encampmentthat can be imagined. Still, as the count regarded himself as beingin an enemy's country, nothing was neglected not only to protect thecamp from a surprise, but also to place it in a respectable state ofdefence. By the aid of the wagons and carts, reinforced by palisades,the adventurers formed a barricade, still further defended by a ditch,the earth from which was thrown up on the other side as a breastwork. Inthe centre of the camp, on a small mound, rose the chiefs tent, beforewhich the guns were planted; and from its summit floated the flag towhich we have already alluded.

  The arrival of the French was a piece of good fortune for the Sonorianswhom the festival had attracted to La Magdalena. Indeed, for severaldays they had been expected hourly; and the inhabitants, in spite of theproclamations of the Mexican Government, which represented the French asplunderers and bandits, had taken no further precautions against themthan to go and meet them, and receive them with shouts of welcome--acharacteristic fact which clearly proved that public opinion was not atall deceived as to the meaning of the French pronunciamiento, and thateach knew perfectly well on which side were right and justice.

  When the camp was formed the authorities of the pueblo presentedthemselves at the gate, asking, in the name of their fellow citizens,permission to visit the Frenchmen. The count, delighted with thismeasure, which was of good augury for the relations he hoped presentlyto establish with the inhabitants, at once gave the requisite permissionwith the best grace possible.

  De Laville had joined the count at about ten miles from the pueblo, atthe head of eighty horsemen, which supplied the army with a respectablebody of cavalry. Don Louis, having long been acquainted with the captainof Guetzalli, appointed him Chief of the Staff, and intrusted to himthe annoying details of duty. De Laville eagerly accepted this mark ofconfidence; and the count, thenceforward free to occupy himself with thepolitical portion of the expedition, retired to his tent, in order toreflect on the means to be employed by which to bring over to his sidethe population among which he now was.

  Since the day General Guerrero presented himself at the mission,accompanied by Father Seraphin, the count, through a feeling ofpropriety, had not seen Dona Angela again, over whom he watched,however, with the utmost solicitude. The young lady appreciated thisdelicacy, and, for her part, had not attempted to see him. She hadjourneyed from the mission to La Magdalena in a closed palanquin, and atent had been erected for her at no great distance from the count's.

  The permission requested by the authorities had scarce been granted erethe adventurers' camp was visited by all the inhabitants. The mob, eagerto see more nearly these bold men who, though in such small number, didnot fear to declare war openly against the Government of Mexico, rushedin a body to the place occupied by them. The adventurers received theirguests with that gaiety which distinguishes Frenchmen, and in a fewhours gained the goodwill of the Sonorians, who, the more they saw ofthem, the more they wished to see, and who never grew weary of admiringtheir recklessness, and, above all, their imperturbable conviction ofthe success of the expedition. Night was setting in, the sun was rapidlysinking on the horizon, when Don Cornelio, who performed the duties ofaide-de-camp to the count, raised the curtain of his tent, and announcedto him that a field officer, who stated he had a message for him, askedto speak with him. Don Louis gave the order for his introduction. Theenvoy entered, and the count at once recognised in him Colonel Suarez.On his side, the colonel made a gesture of surprise at seeing the man hehad met at Guetzalli, though he had not succeeded in finding out who hewas. Don Louis smiled at the colonel's astonishment, bowed politely, andbegged him to be seated.

  "I am requested, sir, by General Guerrero," the colonel said after theusual compliments, "to deliver a letter to you."

  "I have already been told so, colonel," the count answered. "I presumethat you are acquainted with the contents of the letter?"

  "Nearly so, sir; for I have several words to add to it in the course ofconversation."

  "I am ready to hear you."

  "I will not waste your time, sir. In the first place here is the letter."

  "Very good," the count said, taking it and laying it on the table.

  "General Don Sebastian Guerrero," the colonel continued, "accepts theoffer you did him the honour of making him for the hand of his daughter:still he desires that the nuptial ceremony should take place as soon aspossible."

  "I see nothing to prevent it."

  "He desires also that this ceremony, at which he hopes to be presentwith a large party of his relations and friends, should be celebrated atLa Magdalena by Father Seraph
in."

  "I have a few observations to make on that subject, colonel."

  "I am listening to you, caballero."

  "I willingly consent that Father Seraphin should marry us; but theceremony will not take place at La Magdalena, but here in my camp, whichI cannot and will not leave."

  The colonel knit his brows. The count continued without seeming tonotice it:--

  "The general can be present at the ceremony, with as many relations andfriends as he pleases; but as, unfortunately, we do not stand on suchgood terms to each other as I should wish, and as I must take care of myown safety, as much as he does of his, the general will be good enoughto send me ten hostages selected among the most influential personsin the State. These hostages will be treated by me with the greatesthonour, and restored to the general one hour after the nuptial blessingand the departure of the guests from the camp. But I must warn yourgeneral that, if the slightest treachery is attempted against myself orone of the men I have the honour of commanding, these hostages will beimmediately shot."

  "Oh!" the colonel exclaimed, "you distrust General Guerrero, sir, andput no faith in his honour as a caballero."

  "Unfortunately, sir," the count replied dryly, "I have learned at myown expense what the value is of the honour of certain Mexicans. Iwill, therefore, enter into no discussion on that subject. Such are myconditions. The general is at liberty to accept or refuse them; but Ipledge you my word of honour that I shall make no change."

  "Very well, sir," the colonel answered, intimidated in spite of himselfby the count's resolute accent, "I will have the honour of transmittingthese harsh conditions to the general."

  Don Louis bowed.

  "I doubt whether he will accept them," the colonel continued.

  "He can do as he pleases."

  "But is there no other way of settling the difference?"

  "I do not see any."

  "Well, in the event of the general accepting, how shall I let you knowit, so as to lose as little time as possible?"

  "In a very simple mode, sir--by the arrival of Father Seraphin and thedelivery of the hostages."

  "And, in that case, when will the ceremony take place?"

  "Two hours after the hostages have reached my camp."

  "I will retire, sir, and submit your reply to my superior officer."

  "Do so, sir."

  The colonel retired, and the count, who fancied himself sure of theacceptance of his ultimatum, immediately gave the necessary orders forthe construction of the cabin intended to serve as a chapel. After thishe wrote a note, which was handed to Dona Angela through the medium ofDon Cornelio. This note, which was very laconic, contained the followinglines:--

  "MADAM,

  "I have received your father's answer: it is favourable. Tomorrow, in all probability, the ceremony of our marriage will take place. I watch over you and myself.

  "The Count de PREBOIS CRANCE."

  After sending off this note the count wrapped himself in a cloak, andwent out to visit the posts, and assure himself that the sentries werekeeping good guard. The night was bright and clear; the sky studded withan infinite number of brilliant stars; the atmosphere perfumed with athousand sweet odours; at intervals the strains of the guitars, borne onthe breeze, rose from the pueblo, and died out at the count's ear. Thecamp was silent and gloomy; the adventurers, who had retired under theirleafy jacales, were enjoying that rest so necessary after a day's march;the horses, hobbled pell-mell with the mules, were devouring theiralfalfa; the sentries, with shouldered muskets, were walking slowlyaround the intrenchments with their eyes fixed on the plain.

  The count, after walking about for some time, and convincing himselfthat everything was in the most perfect order, was induced by themelancholy and mysterious softness of the night, to lean on thebreastwork; and, with his eye fixed on vacancy, not looking at orprobably seeing anything, he gradually gave way to his dreams, yieldingunconsciously to the mysterious influence of the objects that surroundedhim. From time to time, as the sentries called to each other, hemechanically raised his head; then he would yield again to the flood ofthought that fell on him, and was so absorbed in himself that he seemedto be asleep; but it was not so.

  For several hours he had been thus leaning over the breastwork, withouta thought of retiring, when he suddenly felt a hand lightly laid onhis shoulder. This touch, light as it was, sufficed to recall himfrom the ideal worlds in which his imagination was galloping, and toa consciousness of his present situation. The count stifled a cry ofsurprise and turned round. A man was holding on to the outside of thebreastwork, his head scarce emerging over the top. It was Curumilla.

  The chief had a finger laid on his lips, as if to recommend prudence tothe count. The latter made a sign of pleasure on recognising the Indian,and quickly bent down to him.

  "Well?" he said with his mouth to his ear.

  "You will be attacked tomorrow."

  "You are sure of it?"

  The Indian smiled.

  "Yes," he said.

  "When?"

  "At night."

  "What hour?"

  "An hour before moonrise."

  "By whom?"

  "Palefaces."

  "Oh, oh!"

  "Good-by."

  "Are you off again?"

  "Yes."

  "Shall I see you again?"

  "Perhaps."

  "When?"

  "Tomorrow."

  "And Valentine?"

  "He will come."

  The Indian, doubtlessly fatigued with having talked so much, contrary tohis habits, although the sentences he uttered were of no extraordinarylength, slipped down the breastwork again, and said no more. Louislooked after him, and saw him crawl away on his knees, and disappearwithout producing the slightest sound. The scene had taken place sorapidly, the Indian's flight had been so silent, that the count was onthe point of regarding it as an hallucination; but suddenly the hoot ofthe owl, twice repeated, rose in the air.

  This signal had long been agreed on between Valentine and the count. Heunderstood that Curumilla, while warning him that he was safe, sent himfrom a distance a last recommendation to silence. He tossed his headsadly, and returned to his tent pensively, muttering in a low voice,--

  "Another piece of treachery!"