The Red Track: A Story of Social Life in Mexico

  CHAPTER V.

  THE FORT OF THE CHICHIMEQUES.

  The sun rose; its beams played on the trembling yellow leaves of thetrees, and tinged them with a thousand shades of gold and purple. Thebirds, cozily nestled in the bushes, struck up their matin carol;the awakening of nature was as splendid and imposing as it is in allmountainous countries.

  The leader of the caravan left his tent and gave orders to strike thecamp. The tent was at once folded up, the mules were loaded, and, sosoon as the horses were saddled, the party started without waiting forthe morning meal, for they generally breakfasted at the eleven o'clockhalt, while resting to let the great heat of the day subside.

  The caravan advanced along the road from Santa Fe to the United States,at a speed unusual under such circumstances. A military system wasaffected which was imposing, and, indeed, indispensable in theseregions, infested not merely by numerous bands of predatory Indians, butalso traversed by the pirates of the prairie, more dangerous banditsstill, who were driven by their enemies beyond the pale of the law, andwho, ambushed at the turnings of roads or in broken rocks, attacked thecaravans as they passed, and pitilessly massacred the travellers, afterplundering them of all they possessed.

  About twenty yards ahead of the caravan rode four men, with their rifleson their thigh, preceded by the guide, who formed the extreme vanguard.Next came the main body, composed of six well-armed peons, watchingthe mules and baggage, under the immediate orders of the chief of thecaravan. Lastly, the capataz rode about thirty paces in the rear, havingunder his orders four resolute men armed to the teeth.

  Thus arranged to face any event, the caravan enjoyed a relativesecurity, for it was not very probable that the white or red pillagers,who were doubtless watching it, would dare to attack in open dayseventeen resolute and trained men. At night the horse thieves, whoglide silently in the darkness during the sleep of the travellers, andcarry off horses and baggage, were more formidable.

  Still, either through accident, or the prudential measures employedby the chief of the caravan, since they had left Santa Fe, that isto say for more than a month, the Mexicans had not seen an Indian,or been alarmed. They had journeyed--apparently at least--with asmuch tranquillity as if, instead of being in the heart of the RockyMountains, they were moving along the roads in, the interior of Sonora.This security, however, while augmenting their confidence, had notcaused their prudential measures to be neglected; and their chief, whomthis unusual leniency on the part of the villains who prowl about thesecountries alarmed, redoubled his vigilance and precautions to avoid asurprise and a collision with the plunderers.

  The discovery, made on the previous day by the guide, of an IndianCrow trail--the most determined thieves in these mountains--added tohis apprehensions; for he did not hide from himself that, if he werecompelled to fight, in spite of the courage and discipline of his peons,the odds would be against him, when fighting men thoroughly acquaintedwith the country, and who would only attack him with numbers sufficientto crush his band, however desperate the resistance offered might be.

  When he left the camp, the chief of the caravan, suffering perhaps froma gloomy foreboding, spurred his horse and joined the Indian, who, as wesaid, was marching alone in front, examining the bushes, and apparentlyperforming all the duties of an experienced guide. Curumilla, though heheard the hurried paces of the Mexican's horse, did not turn round, butcontinued trotting along carelessly on the sorry mule allotted to himfor this expedition.

  When the chief of the caravan joined him and brought his horse alongsidethe Indian, instead of speaking to him, he attentively examined himfor some minutes, trying to pierce the mask of stoicism spread overthe guide's features, and to read his thoughts. But, after a ratherlengthened period, the Mexican was constrained to recognize theinutility of his efforts, and to confess to himself the impossibility ofguessing the intentions of this man, for whom, in spite of the servicehe had rendered the caravan, he felt an instinctive aversion, and whomhe would like to force, at all risks, to make a frank explanation.

  "Indian," he said to him in Spanish, "I wish to speak with you for afew moments on an important subject, so be good enough to put off yourusual silence for awhile and answer, like an honest man, the questions Ipropose asking you."

  Curumilla bowed respectfully.

  "You engaged with me, at Santa Fe, to lead me, for the sum of fourounces, of which you received one half in advance, to lead me, I say,safely to the frontiers of Upper Mexico. Since you have been in myservice I must allow that I have only had reason to praise the prudencein which you have performed your duties; but we are at this moment inthe heart of the Rocky Mountains, that is to say, we have reached themost dangerous part of our long journey. Two days ago you lifted thetrail of Crow Indians, very formidable enemies of caravans, and I wantto consult with you as to the means to employ to foil the snares inwhich these Indians will try to catch us, and to know what measures youintend to employ to avoid a meeting with them; in a word, I want to knowyour plan of action."

  The Indian, without replying, felt in a bag of striped calico thrownover his shoulder, and produced a greasy paper, folded in four, which heopened and offered the Mexican.

  "What is this?" the latter asked, as he looked and ran through it. "Oh,yes, certainly; your engagement. Well, what connection has this with thequestion I asked you?"

  Curumilla, still impassive, laid his finger on the paper, at the lastparagraph of the engagement.

  "Well, what then?" the Mexican exclaimed, ill-humouredly. "It is saidthere, it is true, that I must trust entirely to you, and leave you atliberty to act as you please for the common welfare, without questioningyou."

  The Indian nodded his head in assent.

  "Well, _voto a Brios!_" the Mexican shouted, irritated by this studiedcoolness, in spite of his resolve to curb his temper, and annoyed atthe man's obstinate refusal to answer, "what proves to me that you areacting for our common welfare, and that you are not a traitor?"

  At this word traitor, so distinctly uttered by the Mexican, Curumillagave a tiger glance at the speaker, while his whole body was agitated bya convulsive tremor: he uttered two or three incomprehensible gutturalexclamations, and ere the Mexican could suspect his intentions, hewas seized round the waist, lifted from the saddle, and hurled on theground, where he lay stunned.

  Curumilla leapt from his mule, drew from his belt two gold ounces,hurled them at the Mexican, and then, bounding over the precipicethat bordered the road, glided to the bottom with headlong speed anddisappeared at once.

  What we have described occurred so rapidly that the peons who remainedbehind, although they hurried up at full speed to their master'sassistance, arrived too late on the scene to prevent the Indian's flight.

  The Mexican had received no wound; the surprise and violence of thefall had alone caused his momentary stupor; but almost immediatelyhe regained his senses, and comprehending the inutility and folly ofpursuit at such a spot with such an adversary, he devoured his shame andpassion, and, remounting his horse, which had been stopped, he coollygave orders to continue the journey, with an internal resolution that,if ever the opportunity offered, he would have an exemplary revenge forthe insult he had received.

  For the moment he could not think of it, for more serious interestsdemanded all his attention; it was evident to him that, in branding theguide as a traitor, he had struck home, and that the latter, furious atseeing himself unmasked, had proceeded to such extremities in order toescape punishment, and find means to fly safely.

  The situation was becoming most critical for the chief of the caravan;he found himself abandoned and left without a guide, in unknown regions,doubtless watched by hidden foes, and exposed at any moment to anattack, whose result could but be unfavourable to himself and hispeople; hence he must form a vigorous resolve in order to escape, wereit possible, the misfortunes that menaced the caravan.

  The Mexican was a man endowed with an energetic organization, brave torashness, whom no peril, however great it
might be, had ever yet hadthe power to make him blench; in a few seconds he calculated all thefavourable chances left him, and his determination was formed. The roadhe was following at this moment was assuredly the one frequented by thecaravans proceeding from the United States to California or Mexico; andthere was no other road but this in the mountains. Hence the Mexicanresolved to form an entrenched camp, at the spot that might appear tohim most favourable, fortify himself there as well as he could, andawait the passing of the first caravan, which he would join.

  This plan was exceedingly simple, and in addition very easy to execute.As the travellers possessed an ample stock of provisions and ammunition,they had no reason to fear scarcity, while, on the other hand, seven oreight days in all probability would not elapse without the appearance ofa fresh caravan; and the Mexican believed himself capable of resisting,behind good entrenchments, with his fifteen peons, any white or redplunderers who dared to attack him.

  So soon as this resolution was formed, the Mexican at once preparedto carry it out. After having briefly and in a few words explainedto his disheartened peons what his intentions were, and recommendingthem to redouble their prudence, he left them, and pushed on in orderto reconnoitre the ground and select the most suitable spot for theestablishment of the camp.

  He started his horse at a gallop and soon disappeared in the windingsof the road, but, through fear of a sudden attack, he held his gun inhis hand, and his glances were constantly directed around him, examiningwith the utmost care the thick chaparral which bordered the road on theside of the mountain.

  The Mexican went on thus for about two hours, noticing that the furtherhe proceeded the narrower and more abrupt the track became. Suddenlyit widened out in front of him, and he arrived at an esplanade, acrosswhich the road ran, and which was no other than the Fort of theChichimeques, previously described by us.

  The Mexican's practised eye at once seized the advantages of such aposition, and, without loss of time in examining it in detail, he turnedback to rejoin the caravan. The travellers, though marching much moreslowly than their chief, had, however, pushed on, so that he rejoinedthem about three-quarters of an hour after the discovery of the terrace.

  The flight of the guide had nearly demoralized the Mexicans, moreaccustomed to the ease of tropical regions, and whose courage thesnows of the Rocky Mountains had already weakened, if not destroyed.Fortunately for the chief's plans he had over his servants thatinfluence which clever minds know how to impose on ordinary natures, andthe peons, on seeing their master gay and careless about the future,began to hope that they would escape better than they had supposed fromthe unlucky position in which they found themselves so suddenly placed.The march was continued tranquilly; no suspicious sign was discovered,and the Mexicans were justified in believing that, with the exception ofthe time they would be compelled to lose in awaiting a new guide, theflight of the Indian would entail no disagreeable consequences on them.

  Singularly enough, Carnero the capataz seemed rather pleased thanannoyed at the sudden disappearance of the guide. Far from complainingor deploring the delay in the continuance of the journey he laughed atwhat had happened, and made an infinitude of more or less witty jestsabout it, which in the end considerably annoyed his master, whose joywas merely on the surface, and who, in his heart, cursed the mishapwhich kept them in the mountains, and exposed him to the insults of theplunderers.

  "Pray, what do you find so agreeable in what has happened that youare or affect to be so merry, No Carnero?" he at length asked withconsiderable ill temper.

  "Forgive me, mi amo," the capataz answered humbly; "but you know theproverb, 'What can't be cured must be endured,' and consequently Iforgot."

  "Hum!" said the master, without any other reply.

  "And besides," the capataz added, as he stooped down to the chief, andalmost whispering, "however bad our position may be, is it not better topretend to consider it good?"

  His master gave him a piercing look, but the other continuedimperturbably with an obsequious smile--

  "The duty of a devoted servant, mi amo, is to be always of his master'sopinion, whatever may happen. The peons were murmuring this morningafter your departure, and you know what the character of these brutesis; if they feel alarmed we shall be lost, for it will be impossiblefor us to get out of our position; hence I thought that I was carryingout your views by attempting to cheer them up, and I feign a gaietywhich, be assured, I do not feel, under the supposition that it would beagreeable to you."

  The Mexican shook his head dubiously, but the observations of thecapataz were so just, the reasons he offered appeared so plausible,that he was constrained to yield and thank him, as he did not care toalienate at this moment a man who by a word could change the temper ofhis peons, and urge them to revolt instead of adhering to their duty.

  "I thank you, No Carnero," he said, with a conciliatory air. "Youperfectly understood my intentions. I am pleased with your devotion tomy person, and the moment will soon arrive, I hope, when it will be inmy power to prove to you the value I attach to you."

  "The certainty of having done my duty, now as ever, is the sole reward Idesire, mi amo," the capataz answered, with a respectful bow.

  The Mexican gave him a side glance, but he restrained himself, andit was with a smile that he thanked the capataz for the second time.The latter thought it prudent to break off the interview here, and,stopping his horse, he allowed his master to pass him. The chief of thecaravan was one of those unhappily constituted men who after havingpassed their life in deceiving or trying to deceive those with whom theaccidents of an adventurous existence have brought them into contact,had reached that point when he had no confidence in anyone, and sought,behind the most frivolous words, to discover an interested motive, whichmost frequently did not exist. Although his capataz Carnero had beenfor a long time in his service, and he granted him a certain amount offamiliarity--although he appeared to place great confidence in him, andcount on his devotion, still, in his heart, he not only suspected him,but felt almost confident, without any positive proof, it is true, thathe was playing a double game with him, and was a secret agent of hisdeceivers.

  What truth there might be in this supposition, which held a firm hold ofthe Mexican's mind, we are unable to say at present; but the slightestactions of his capataz were watched by him, and he felt certain that heshould, sooner or later, attain a confirmation of his doubts; hence,while feigning the greatest satisfaction with him, he constantly kept onhis guard, ready to deal a blow, which would be the sharper because ithad been so long prepared.

  A little before eleven A.M. the caravan reached the terrace, and it waswith a feeling of joy, which they did not attempt to conceal, that thepeons recognized the strength of the position selected by their masterfor the encampment.

  "We shall stop here for the present," the Mexican said. "Unload themules, and light the fires. Immediately after breakfast we will beginentrenching ourselves in such a way as to foil all the assaults ofmarauders."

  The peons obeyed with the speed of men who have made a long journey andare beginning to feel hungry; the fires were lighted in an instant, anda few moments later the peons vigorously attacked their maize tortillas,their tocino, and their cecina--those indispensable elements of everyMexican meal. When the hunger of his men was appeased, and they hadsmoked their cigarettes, the chief rose.

  "Now," he said, "to work."