CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.
AN INDIAN BELLE.
If the Tovas chief be in danger of receiving punishment from his peoplefor carrying into captivity the daughter of his father's friend, thereis also danger to the captive herself from another and very differentsource. Just as the passion of love has been the cause of her beingbrought to the Sacred Town of the Tovas, that of jealousy is like to bethe means of her there finding an early grave.
The jealous one is an Indian girl, named Nacena, the daughter of asub-chief, who, like Naraguana himself, was an aged man held in highregard; and, as the deceased _cacique_, now also sleeping his last sleepin one of their scaffold tombs.
Despite her bronzed skin, Nacena is a beautiful creature; for the brownis not so deep as to hinder the crimson blush showing its tint upon hercheeks; and many a South American maiden, boasting the blue blood ofAndalusia, has a complexion less fair than she. As on this same eveningshe sits by the shore of the lake, on the trunk of a fallen palm-tree,her fine form clad in the picturesque Indian garb, with her lovely facemirrored in the tranquil water, a picture is presented on which no eyecould look, nor thought dwell, without a feeling of delight; and,regarding her thus, no one would believe her to be other than what sheis--the belle of the Tovas tribe.
Her beauty had not failed to make impression upon the heart of Aguara,long before his having become _cacique_. He has loved her too, in daysgone by, ere he looked upon the golden-haired paleface. Both childrenthen, and little more yet; for the Indian girl is only a year or twoolder than the other. But in this southern clime, the precocity alreadyspoken of is not confined to those whose skins are called white, butequally shared by the red.
Nacena has been beloved by the son of Naraguana, and knew, or at leastbelieved it. But she better knows, that she has been deceived by him,and is now slighted, about to be cast aside for another. That otherwill, ere long, be chieftainess of the Tovas tribe, while she--
She has reflected thus far, when the bitter thought overpowering causesher to start to her feet, a cry escaping her lips as if it came from aheart cleft in twain.
Nothing of this, however, shows in her face. The expression upon it israther that of anger, as a _jaguarete_ of her native plains, whose ragehas been aroused by the arrow of the Indian hunter suddenly piercing itsside. Hitherto silent, she is now heard to speak; but, though alone,the words to which she gives utterance are not in soliloquy: instead, asif spoken to some one who is near, though unseen. It is an apostrophemeant for no mortal ears, but addressed to the Divinity of the lake!
"Spirit of the Waters!" she cries, with arms outstretched and headaloft, "hear my prayer! Tell me if it be true! Will he make her hiswife?"
She is silent for a second or two, as though expecting a reply, andlistening for it. It comes, but not from the deity addressed. Out ofher own heart she has the answer.
"He will; yes, surely will! Else, why has he brought her hither? Afalse tale he has told in the council of the elders; false as himself!Where are his words, his vows, made to me with lips that gave kisses?Perjured--broken--gone as his love, given to another! And I am soon tosee her his queen, salute her as mine, and attend upon her as one of herwaiting maids! Never! No, Spirit of the Waters! Rather than do that,I shall go to you; be one of your attendants, not hers. Rather thanthat, thou shalt take me to thy bosom!"
High-sounding speeches from an Indian girl, scarce fifteen years of age?But love's eloquence is not confined to age, race, or rank, no morethan that of jealousy. Both passions may burn in the breast of thesavage maiden, as in the heart of the high-born lady--perhaps tearing itmore. Not strange they should find like expression on the lips.
"Why not now?" continues Nacena in a tone that tells of despair, whilethe cloud upon her brow is seen to grow darker. "Ah! why not? No needwaiting longer; I know all. A leap from yonder rock, and all would beover, my suspense, as my sufferings."
For a moment she stands with eyes fixed upon a rocky promontory, whichjuts out into the lake near by. Its head overhangs the water, threefathoms deep, as she knows. Many the time has she sprung from thatprojecting point to swim, naiad-like, underneath it. But the plunge shenow meditates is not for swimming, but to sink!
"No!" she exclaims, after a pause, as she withdraws her gaze from therock, the expression upon her face changing back to that of the_jaguarete_! "No, Spirit of the Waters! not yet. Nacena fears not todie, but that is not the death for the daughter of a Tovas chief. Ifwronged, she must resent it, and will. Revenge first, and the deceivershall first die. After that, O Spirit, thou canst take me; Nacena willno longer care to live."
As she says this, the sad look returns to her countenance, replacingthat of anger; and for a time she stands with head drooped down to herbosom, and arms hanging listlessly by her side--a very picture ofdespair.
At length, she is about to leave the spot, when a footstep warns her ofone making approach; and, turning, she sees who it is. A youth, but tomanhood grown, and wearing the insignia of a sub-chief. Though manyyears older than herself, he is her brother.
"Sister!" he says, coming up to her, and closely scanning her face, "youhave thoughts that trouble you. I would know what they are."
"Oh, nothing," she rejoins, with an effort to appear calm. "I've onlybeen looking over the lake, at the birds out yonder. How they enjoythemselves this fine evening!"
"But you're not enjoying yourself, Nacena; nor haven't been for sometime past. I've noticed that; and more, I know the reason."
She starts at his words; not to turn pale, but with the blood mantlinginto her brown cheeks. Still she is silent.
"You need neither deny, nor declare it," he continues. "'Tis all knownto me, save one thing. That alone I wish to ask you about. I must havean answer, and a truthful one. As your brother I demand it, Nacena."
She fixes her eyes upon him, in a look half-frightened, then timidlyasks:
"What thing, Kaolin?"
"Has he deceived you?"
"Deceived!" she echoes, the blush upon her cheeks mounting up to herbrow, and becoming deeper red. "Brother! Had any one but you askedthat question, I would--Deceived! No; your sister would die before thatcould have been. As you seem to know all, I will no longer conceal thetruth from you. You speak of Aguara. I loved him; ah! love him still.And he told me my love was returned; spoke it solemnly; vowed it. Now Iknow his words were false, and he was but beguiling me."
"Then he has trifled with you," exclaims the brother, his indignationnow beyond bounds. "You, my sister, the daughter of a Tovas chief, ofbirth and blood equal to his own! But he shall repent it, and soon.The time has not come; it will ere long. Enough now, Nacena. Not aword to anyone of what has passed between us. Be patient and wait. Foryour wrongs, I promise, you snail have revenge."
And with this threat, he turns away; leaving her on the lake's edge, ashe found her.
Soon as he is out of sight, and his footfall beyond hearing, she reseatsherself on the trunk of the palm; and, supporting her head upon herhands, gives way to weeping--a very cataract of tears.
It seems to relieve her from the tumult of emotions late harassing herheart, and after a time she looks up with an expression in her eyesdifferent from all that have preceded. It is of hope; as can be told bythe words which fall in low murmuring from her lips:
"After all I may be mistaken. Can I? If so, and he is still true, thenI am wronging him, and Kaolin may commit a crime that will bring bothpunishment and repentance. Oh, that I knew the truth! But surely,Shebotha knows, and can tell it me. She will, for the reward I shalloffer her. This night she has promised to meet me on the hill, andthen, then--"
She breaks off abruptly, and with countenance again clouding over. Forthe words "I shall learn the worst" are on her lips, and the thought inher mind.
It is hope's last spark, love-lighted from embers nearly extinguished,still flickering, faint, and vainly struggling to burn on.