The Pirates of the Prairies: Adventures in the American Desert

"Humph!" the hunter muttered, as he rested his rifle on the ground, "it would be easier to move a tiger."

Don Miguel walked a few paces forward. "Red Cedar," he exclaimed, "have pity on me – give me back my daughter."

The pirate grinned, but gave no answer.

"Red Cedar," Don Miguel went on, "have pity on me, I implore you, I will pay any ransom you ask; but in the name of what there is most sacred on earth, restore me my daughter; remember that you owe your life to me."

"I owe you nothing," the squatter said brutally; "the life you saved you tried to take from me again; we are quits."

"My daughter! Give me my daughter."

"Where is mine? Where is Ellen? restore her to me; perhaps, after that, I will consent to give you your daughter."

"She is not with us, Red Cedar, I swear it to you; she went away to join you."

"A lie!" the Pirate yelled, "A lie!"

At this moment, Doña Clara, whose movements nobody was watching, boldly leaped into the water. But, at the sound of the dive, Red Cedar turned and plunged in after her. The hunters began firing again on the Pirate, who, as if he had a charmed life, shook his head with a sarcastic laugh at every bullet that struck the water near him.

"Help!" the maiden cried in a panting voice; "Valentine, my father, help me!"

"I come," Don Miguel answered: "courage, my child, courage!"

And, only listening to paternal love, Don Miguel bounded forward, but, at a sign from Valentine, Curumilla and Eagle-wing stopped him, in spite of all his efforts to tear himself from their grasp. The hunter took his knife in his teeth and leaped into the river.

"Come, father!" Doña Clara repeated – "Where are you? Where are you?"

"Here I am!" Don Miguel shrieked.

"Courage! Courage!" Valentine shouted.

The hunter made a tremendous effort to reach the maiden, and the two enemies found themselves face to face in the agitated waters of the Gila. Forgetting all feeling of self preservation they rushed on each other knife in hand.

At this moment a formidable sound, resembling the discharge of a park of artillery, burst from the entrails of the earth, a terrible shock agitated the ground, and the river was forced back into its bed with irresistible force. Red Cedar and Valentine, seized by the colossal wave produced by this tremendous clash, turned round and round for some moments, but were then hastily separated, and an impassible gulf opened between them. At the same instant a cry of horrible pain echoed through the air.

"There!" Red Cedar yelled, "I told you I would only give you your daughter dead – come and take her!"

And with a demoniac laugh, he buried his knife in Doña Clara's bosom. The poor girl fell on her knees, clasped her hands, and expired, crying for the last time —

"Father! Father!"

"Oh!" Don Miguel shrieked – "Woe! Woe!" and he fell unconscious on the ground.

At the sight of this cowardly act, Valentine, rendered powerless, writhed his hands in despair. Curumilla raised his rifle, and ere Red Cedar could start his horse at a gallop, fired; but the bullet, badly aimed, did not strike the bandit, who uttered a yell of triumph, and started at full speed.

"Oh!" Valentine shouted, "I swear by Heaven I will have that monster's life!"

The shock we just alluded to was the last effort of the earthquake, though there were a few more scarcely felt oscillations, as if the earth were seeking to regain its balance, which it had momentarily lost.

The Apaches, carried away in their canoes, had already gained a considerable distance; the fire was expiring for want of nourishment on the ground, which had been inundated by the waters of the river.

In spite of the help lavished on him by his friends, Don Miguel did not return to life for a long time. The general approached the hunter, who was leaning, gloomy and pensive, on his rifle, with his eyes fixed on space.

"What are we doing here?" he said to him; "Why do we not resume our pursuit of that villain?"

"Because," Valentine replied, in a mournful voice, "We must pay the last duties to his victim."

The general bowed, and an hour later the hunters placed Doña Clara's body in the ground. Don Miguel, supported by the general and his son, wept over the grave which contained his child.

When the Indian Chief had filled up the hole, and rolled onto it rocks, lest it might be profaned by wild beasts, Valentine seized his friend's hand, and pressed it forcibly.

"Don Miguel," he said to him, "women weep, men avenge themselves."

"Oh, yes!" the hacendero cried, with savage energy; "Vengeance! Vengeance!"

But, alas! This cry, uttered over a scarce-closed tomb, died out without an echo. Red Cedar and his companions had disappeared in the inextricable windings of the desert. Many days must yet elapse before the so greatly desired hour of vengeance arrived, for God, whose designs are inscrutable, had not yet said Enough!

[The further adventures of the hunters and the fate of Red Cedar have yet to be described, in the last volume of this series, entitled "THE TRAPPER'S DAUGHTER," which will speedily appear.]

THE END

1

See the Trail-hunter.

2

And not Montezuma, as ordinarily written. All Mexican names had, and still have, a meaning. Montecuhzoma means the "severe Lord." It is also sometimes written in old Mexican MSS. of the time of the conquest Moctecuhzoma, but never Montezuma, which has no meaning.