CHAPTER IV.

  THE TRAVELLERS.

  We must now leave Valentine and his companions on the esplanade of theFort of the Chichimeques, where we shall join them again however, inorder to attend to other persons destined to play an important part inthe narrative we have undertaken to tell the reader.

  About five or six leagues at the most from the spot where Valentine andthe Tigrero met, a caravan, composed of some ten persons, had halted onthe same night, and almost at the same moment as the hunter, in a narrowvalley completely sheltered from the wind by dense clumps of trees.

  The caravan was comfortably lodged on the bank of a running stream, themules had been unloaded, a tent raised, fires lighted; and when theanimals were hobbled, the travellers began to make preparations fortheir supper.

  These travellers, or at any rate one of them, appeared to belong to thehighest class, for the rest were only servants or Indian peons. Stillthe dress of this person was most simple, but his stiff manner, hisimposing demeanour, and haughty air, evidenced the man long accustomedto give his orders without admitting refusal or even the slightesthesitation.

  He had passed his fiftieth year; he was tall, well-built, and hismovements were extremely elegant. His broad forehead, his black eyeslarge and flashing, his long gray moustaches and his short hair gave hima military appearance, which his harsh, quick way of speaking did notcontradict. Although he affected a certain affability of manner, he attimes involuntarily betrayed himself, and it was easy to see that themodest garb of a Mexican Campesino which he wore was only a disguise.Instead of withdrawing beneath the tent prepared for him, this personhad sat down before the fire with the peons, who eagerly made way forhim with evident respect.

  Among the peons two men more especially attracted attention. One was aredskin, the other a half-breed, with a crafty, leering manner, who, forsome reason or another, stood on more familiar terms with his master;his comrades called him No Carnero, and at times gave him the title ofCapataz.

  No Carnero was the wit of the caravan, the funny fellow--ever ready tolaugh and joke, smoking an eternal cigar, and desperately strummingan insupportable guitar. Perhaps, though, he concealed beneath thisfrivolous appearance a more serious character and deeper thoughts thanhe would have liked to display.

  The redskin formed the most complete contrast with the capataz; he wasa tall, thin, dry man, with angular features and gloomy and sad face,illumined by two black eyes deeply set in their orbit, but constantlyin motion, and having an undefinable expression; his aquiline nose, hiswide mouth lined with large teeth as white as almonds, and his thinpinched up lips, composed a far from pleasant countenance, which wasrendered still more lugubrious by the obstinate silence of this man, whoonly spoke when absolutely compelled, and then only in monosyllables.Like all the Indians, it was impossible to form any opinion as to hisage, for his hair was black as the raven's wing, and his parchment skinhad not a single wrinkle; at any rate he seemed gifted with no ordinarystrength.

  He had engaged at Santa Fe to act as guide to the caravan, and, withthe exception of his obstinate silence, there was every reason to besatisfied with the way in which he performed his duty. The peons calledhim The Indian, or sometimes Jose--a mocking term employed in Mexico todesignate the Indios mansos; but the redskin appeared as insensible tocompliments as to jokes, and continued coldly to carry out the task hehad imposed on himself. When supper was ended, and each had lit his pipeor cigarette, the master turned to the capataz.

  "Carnero," he said to him, "although in such frightful weather, and inthese remote regions, we have but little to fear from horse thieves,still do not fail to place sentries, for we cannot be too provident."

  "I have warned two men, _mi amo_," the capataz replied; "and, moreover,I intend to make my rounds tonight; eh, Jose," he added, turning tothe Indian, "are you certain you are not mistaken, and that you reallylifted a trail?"

  The redskin shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, and continued his quietsmoke.

  "Do you know to what nation the sign you discovered belongs?" the masterasked him.

  The Indian gave a nod of assent.

  "Is it a formidable nation?"

  "Crow," the redskin answered hoarsely.

  "Caray!" the master exclaimed, "if they are Crows, we shall do well tobe on our guard, for they are the cleverest plunderers in the RockyMountains."

  "Nonsense!" Carnero remarked with a grin of derision, "do not believewhat that man tells you; the mezcal has got into his head, and he istrying to make himself of importance; Indians tell as many lies as oldwomen."

  The Indian's eye flashed; without deigning to reply he drew a moccasinfrom his breast, and threw it so adroitly at the capataz as to strikehim across the face. Furious at the insult so suddenly offered him by aman whom he always considered inoffensive, the half-breed uttered a yellof rage, and rushed knife in hand on the Indian.

  But the latter had not taken his eye off him, and by a slight movementhe avoided the desperate attack of the capataz; then, drawing himselfup, he caught him round the waist, raised him from the ground as easyas he would have done a child, and hurled him into the fire, where hewrithed for a moment with cries of pain and impotent passion. When heat length got out of the fire, half scorched, he did not think ofrenewing the attack, but sat down growling and directing savage glancesat his adversary, like a turnspit punished by a mastiff. The masterhad witnessed this aggression with the utmost indifference, and havingpicked up the moccasin, which he carefully examined--

  "The Indian is right," he said, coldly, "this moccasin bears the mark ofthe Crow nation. My poor Carnero, you must put up with it, for thoughthe punishment you received was severe, I am forced to allow that it wasdeserved."

  The redskin had begun smoking again as quietly as if nothing hadoccurred.

  "The dog will pay me for it with his traitor face," the capataz growled,on hearing his master's warning. "I am no man if I do not leave his bodyas food for the crows he discovers so cleverly."

  "My poor lad," his master continued, with a jeer, "you had better forgetthis affair, which I allow might be disagreeable to your self-esteem;for I fancy you would not be the gainer by recommencing the quarrel."

  The capataz did not answer; he looked round at the spectators to selectone on whom he could vent his spite, without incurring any extreme risk;but the peons were on their guard, and offered him no chance. He then,with an air of vexation, made a signal to two men to follow him, andleft the circle grumbling.

  The head of the caravan remained for a few minutes plunged in seriousthought; he then withdrew beneath his tent, the curtain of which fellbehind him; and the peons lay down on the ground, one after the other,with their feet to the fire, and carefully wrapped up in their serapes,and fell asleep.

  The Indian then took the pipe stem from his mouth, looked searchinglyaround him, shook out the ashes, passed the pipe through his belt,and, rising negligently, went slowly to crouch at the foot of a tree,though not before he had taken the precaution of wrapping himselfin his buffalo robe, a measure which the sharp air rendered, if notindispensable, at any rate necessary.

  Ere long, with the exception of the sentries leaning on their guns andmotionless as statues, all the travellers were plunged in deep sleep,for the capataz himself, in spite of the promise he had made his master,had laid himself across the entrance of the tent.

  An hour elapsed ere anything disturbed the silence that prevailed in thecamp. All at once a singular thing happened. The buffalo robe, underwhich the Indian was sheltered, gently rose with an almost imperceptiblemovement, and the redskin's face appeared, darting glances of fire intothe gloom. In a moment the guide raised himself slowly along the trunkof the tree against which he had been lying, embraced it with his feetand hands, and with undulating movements resembling those of reptiles,he left the ground, and raised himself to the first branches, amongwhich he disappeared.

  This ascent was executed with such well-calculated slowness that it hadnot produced the slightest sound
. Moreover, the buffalo robe left atthe foot of the tree so well retained its primitive folds, that it wasimpossible to discover, without touching it, that the man it shelteredhad left it.

  When the guide was thoroughly concealed among the leaves, he remainedfor a moment motionless; though not in order to regain his breath afterhaving made such an expenditure of strength, for this man was made ofiron, and fatigue had no power over him. But he probably wished to lookabout him, for with his body bent forward, and his eyes fixed on space,he inhaled the breeze, and his glances seemed trying to pierce the gloom.

  Before selecting as his resting place the foot of the tree in which hewas now concealed, the guide had assured himself that this tree, whichwas very high and leafy, was joined at about two-thirds of its height byother trees, which gradually rose along the side of the mountain, andformed a wall of verdure.

  After a few minutes' hesitation, the guide drew in his belt, placed hisknife between his teeth, and with a certainty and lightness of movementwhich would have done honour to a monkey, he commenced literally hoppingfrom one tree to another, hanging by his arms, and clinging to thecreepers, waking up, as he passed, the birds, which flew away in alarm.

  This strange journey lasted about three-quarters of an hour. At lengththe guide stopped, looked attentively around him, and gliding down thetrunk of the tree on which he was, reached the ground. The spot wherehe now found himself was a rather spacious clearing, in the centre ofwhich blazed an enormous fire, serving to warm forty or fifty redskins,completely armed and equipped for war. Still, singular to say, themajority of these Indians, instead of their long lances and the bowsthey usually employ, carried muskets of American manufacture, whichled to the supposition that they were picked warriors and great bravesof their nation; and this, too, was further proved by the numerouswolf tails fastened to their heels, an honourable insignia which onlyrenowned warriors have the right to assume.

  This detachment of redskins was certainly on the war trail, or at anyrate on a serious expedition, for they had with them neither dogs norsquaws. In spite of the slight care with which the Indians are wont toguard themselves at night, the free and deliberate manner in which theguide entered their encampment proved that he was expected by thesewarriors, who evinced no surprise at seeing him, but, on the contrary,invited him with hospitable gestures to take a seat at their fire. Theguide sat down silently, and began smoking the calumet which the chiefseated by his side immediately offered him. This chief was still a youngman, his marked features displaying the utmost craft and boldness. Aftera rather lengthened interval, doubtless expressly granted the visitor tolet him draw breath and warm himself, the young chief bowed to him andaddressed him deferentially.

  "My father is welcome among his sons; they were impatiently awaiting hisarrival."

  The guide responded to this compliment with a grimace, in allprobability intended to pass muster for a smile. The chief continued:--

  "Our scouts have carefully examined the encampment of the Yoris, and thewarriors of the Jester are ready to obey the instructions given them bytheir great sachem, Eagle-head. Is my father Curumilla satisfied withhis red children?"

  Curumilla (for the guide was no other than the reader's old acquaintancethe Araucano chief) laid his right hand on his chest, and uttered with aguttural accent the exclamation, "Ugh!" which was with him a mark of thegreatest joy.

  The Jester and his warriors had been too long acquainted with Curumillafor his silence to seem strange to them; hence they yielded withoutrepugnance to his mania, and carefully giving up the hope of getting asyllable out of his closed lips, began with him a conversation in signs.

  We have already had occasion, in a previous work, to mention that theredskins have two languages, the written and the sign language. Thelatter, which has among them attained a high perfection, and which allunderstand, is usually employed when hunting, or on expeditions, whena word pronounced even in a low voice may reveal the presence of anambuscade to the enemy, whether men or beasts, whom they are pursuing,and desire to surprise.

  It would have been interesting, and even amusing, for any strangerwho had been present at this interview to see with what rapidity thegestures and signs were exchanged between these men, so strangely litup by the ruddy glow of the fire, and who resembled, with their strangemovements, their stern faces, and singular attitudes, a council ofdemons. At times the Jester, with his body bent forward, and emphaticgestures, held a dumb speech, which his comrades followed with the mostsustained attention, and which they answered with a rapidity that wordsthemselves could not have surpassed.

  At length this silent council terminated. Curumilla raised his hand toheaven, and pointed to the stars, which were beginning to grow dim, andthen left the circle. The redskins respectfully followed him to thefoot of the tree by the aid of which he had entered their camp. When hereached it, he turned round.

  "May the Wacondah protect my father!" the Jester then said. "His sonshave thoroughly understood his instructions, and will follow themliterally. The great pale hunter will have joined his friends by thishour, and he is doubtless awaiting us. Tomorrow Koutonepi will see hisComanche brothers. At the _enditha_ the camp will be raised."

  "It is good," Curumilla answered, and saluting for the last time thewarriors, who bowed respectfully before him, the chief seized thecreeping plants, and, raising himself by the strength of his wrists, ina second he reached the branches, and disappeared in the foliage.

  The journey the Indian had made was very important, and needed to be sofor him to run such great risks in order to have an interview at thishour of the night with the redskins; but as the reader will soon learnwhat were the consequences of this expedition, we deem it unnecessary totranslate the sign language employed during the council, or explain theresolutions formed between Curumilla and the Jester.

  The chief recommenced his aerial trip with the same lightness and thesame good fortune. After a lapse of time comparatively much shorter thanthat which he had previously employed, he reached the camp of the whitemen. The same silence prevailed in its interior; the sentinels werestill motionless at their post, and the watch fires were beginning toexpire.

  The chief assured himself that no eye was fixed on him--that no spywas on the watch; and, feeling certain of not being perceived, he slidsilently down the tree and resumed the place beneath the buffalo robewhich he was supposed not to have left during the night.

  At the moment when, after taking a final glance around, the Indian chiefdisappeared beneath his robe, the capataz, who was lying athwart theentrance of the hut, gently raised his head, and looked with strangefixity of glance at the place occupied by the redskin.

  Had a suspicion been aroused in the Mexican's mind? Had he noticed thedeparture and return of the chief? Presently he let his head fall again,and it would have been impossible to read on his motionless featureswhat were the thoughts that troubled him.

  The remainder of the night passed tranquilly and peacefully.