The Tiger-Slayer: A Tale of the Indian Desert

"I know another," Eagle-head observed.

"You, chief? Then you will tell us of it."

"Let the palefaces listen. The Rio Gila, like all other large rivers, brings down with it dead trees, at times in such quantities that at certain spots they completely block up the passage, in time these trees press against each other, and their branches become entwined; then grass grows, to cement them more firmly together; the sand and earth are piled up gradually on these immense rafts, which at a distance resemble islands, until a storm comes as a flood, which breaks up the raft, and bears it away."

"I know that. I have seen frequent instances of it, chief," Belhumeur said. "These rafts at last grow to look so like islands that the man most accustomed to desert life and the grand spectacles of nature is frequently deceived by them. I understand all the advantages your idea possesses for us; but, unhappily, I do not see how it will be possible for us to carry it out."

"In the simplest way. The Indian's eye is good; he sees everything within two bow-shots of him. Above the great lodge of the palefaces, did not my brother notice an islet about fifty yards almost from the bank?"

"What you say is quite correct," Belhumeur exclaimed; "I can call the island to mind now."

"From the position it occupies there will be nothing to apprehend from fire," Louis remarked. "If it is large enough to hold us all it will be extremely useful as an advanced post."

"We have not a moment to lose: we must take possession of it at once, and when we are certain that it offers all we want we will lead the peons to it."

"Let us start, then, without further delay," the Tigrero said as he rose.

The others imitated him, and the five men left the clearing. After fetching their horses they proceeded toward the island under the guidance of Eagle-head.

The Indian chief had not deceived them. With that infallible glance his countrymen possess, he had at once formed a correct opinion of the spot he so cleverly selected. There was another consideration highly advantageous for the adventurers – a thick line of mangroves bordered the river's edge, and advanced sufficiently far into the stream to diminish the distance separating the isle from the mainland, while forming a natural defence for men concealed in the tall grass; for it was perfectly impossible that the Indians could hide themselves in the mangroves to harass their enemies, who, on the other hand, could do them considerable mischief.

This islet (we will retain the name, though it was really only a raft) was covered with a close, strong herbage, about two yards in height, in the midst of which, men and horses completely disappeared. When the reconnoissance was ended, Belhumeur and the two Mexicans installed themselves in the centre, while Louis and Eagle-head returned to the bank to go and meet the capataz and his people.

Don Martial did not care to accompany them. So near the colony he was afraid of being recognised by Don Sylva, and preferred to maintain, as long as he could, an incognito necessary for the ulterior success of his plans. Louis, after making him the offer to accompany them, pressed him no further, and appeared to accept his refusal without any discussion. The truth was, that the count felt, without being able to explain it, a species of repulsion for this man, whose cautious manner and continual hesitation had ill disposed him in his favour.

Eagle-head and Louis, certain that the Black Bear had really retired with his detachment, and left no spies on the prairie, thought it unnecessary to let the Mexicans take a long and wearisome ride before leading them to the hiding place; consequently, they hid themselves in the shrubs at the end of the isthmus to watch their exit, and lead them straight to the spot.

In the meanwhile the news Don Louis had carried to the colony had turned everything topsy-turvy. Although, since the first foundation of the hacienda, the Indians had constantly tried to harass the French, the various attempts they made had been unimportant, and this was really the first time they would have a serious contest with their ferocious enemies.

The Count de Lhorailles had with him about two hundred Dauph'yeers, who had come from Valparaiso, Guyaquil, Callao, and the other Pacific ports, which are always crowded with adventurers of every description. These worthy people were a singular mixture of all the nationalities peopling the two hemispheres, although the French supplied the largest factor. Half bandits, half soldiers, these men put the utmost faith in the chief they had freely chosen.

The news of the attack premeditated by the Apaches was received by the garrison with shouts of joy and enthusiasm. It was an amusement for these adventurers to exchange shots, or rub the rust off a little, as they naïvely said in their picturesque language. They desired before all to prove to the Apaches the difference existing between the Creole colonists, whom they had been in the habit of killing and plundering from time immemorial, and Europeans whom they did not yet know.

The count, therefore, had no need to recommend firmness to them; he was on the contrary, obliged to repress their ardour, and beg them to be prudent, by promising that they should soon have an opportunity of meeting the redskins in the open field.

As soon as the defensive preparations were made the count left the details to his two lieutenants, two old soldiers, on whom he believed he could count; then he thought of Blas Vasquez and his peons. In the probable event that the Indians had left spies round the colony, they must be persuaded that this band had really retired. For that purpose several mules were laden with provisions, as if for a long journey; then the capataz, well instructed, put himself at the head of the squadron, and left the colony, rifle on thigh.

The count, Don Sylva, and the other inhabitants followed the party with an interest easy to comprehend, ready to help them if attacked. But nothing stirred in the prairie; the calm and silence continued to prevail, and the Mexicans soon disappeared in the tall grass.

"I cannot at all understand the Indian tactics," Don Sylva muttered thoughtfully. "As they have allowed that party to pass so quietly, they must be planning some trick which offers a good prospect of success."

"We shall soon know what we are to expect," the count replied; "besides, we are ready to receive them. I am only sorry that Doña Anita should be here; not that she runs the slightest risk, but the sound of the contest may terrify her."

"No, señor conde," the lady said, who came from the house at the moment; "fear nothing of that nature for me. I am a true Mexican, and not one of your European dames, whom the slightest thing causes to faint. Often, in circumstances graver than these, I have heard the Apache war yell echo in my ears, without, however, feeling that intense alarm you seem to apprehend from me today."

After uttering these words with that haughty and profoundly contemptuous accent women know so well to employ to a man they do not love, Doña Anita passed before the count without deigning him a glance, and took her father's arm.

The Frenchman made no reply: he bit his lips till they bled, and bowed as if he did not understand the epigram launched at him. He intended to have an explanation with his betrothed at a later date; for though he did not love her, as often happens in such cases, he did not pardon her being loved by another, and especially for regarding him with indifference; but the events which had hurried on with such rapidity during the last two days had hitherto prevented him asking this important interview of the doña.

The hacendero's daughter was an Andalusian from head to foot, all fire and passion, only obeying the precipitate movements of her heart. Loving with all the strength of her soul, safeguarded by her love for Don Martial, she had judged the Count de Lhorailles coolly, and guessed the speculator under the garb of the gentleman; hence she made up her mind at once to render it an impossibility ever to become his wife. To commence an overt struggle with her father – she knew, too well to risk it, the old Spanish blood that boiled in his veins. A woman's strength is her apparent weakness; her means of defence, stratagem. As much Indian as she was Spaniard, Anita chose stratagem, that terrible woman's weapon, which often renders her so dangerous.

Blas Vazquez, the capataz, had seen the birth of Doña Anita: his wife had been her nurse – that is, he was devoted to the young girl, and on a sign from her he would have pledged his soul to the demon.

When Don Louis visited the hacienda the young lady was considerably curious as to the motive of his arrival. After the Frenchman's departure she asked coolly for information from the capataz, who saw no harm in giving it to her, the more so because everyone in the colony would soon know the news the count brought. The only thing no one could know, and which Doña Anita guessed with that heart instinct which never deceives, was the presence of the Tigrero among the hunters ambushed in the vicinity of the hacienda.

On leaving her at Guaymas, Don Martial had said that he would constantly watch over her, and save her from the fate with which she was menaced. After that, it was plain that he must have followed her. Had he done so (which she did not for a moment doubt), he must certainly be among the brave men who at that moment were devoting themselves to save her, while seeking to protect the colony.

The logic of the heart is the only species that is positive and never deceives. We have seen that Doña Anita, enlightened by passion, reasoned justly. When the girl had drawn from the capataz all the information she desired, —

"Don Blas," she said to him, "it is probable that if the colony is attacked, after the services you will be able to render, and when my father and Don Gaëtano no longer want you and your men, that you will receive orders to return to Guaymas."

"'Tis probable, certainly, señora," the worthy man answered.

"In that case you will have no objection to do me a service?" she went on, looking at him with her most fascinating smile.

"You know, señorita, that I would throw myself into the fire for you."

"I do not wish you to put your friendship to such a rude trial, my good Blas; still I thank you for your kindly feeling."

"What can I do to oblige you?"

"Oh! A very easy matter. You know," she said lightly, "that for a long time I have wished to have two jaguar skins as a carpet for my bedroom?"

"No," he replied simply; "I was not aware of it."

"Ah! Well, I tell it you now, so you know it."

"I shall not forget it, señorita, you may be sure."

"Thanks; but that is not exactly what I want."

"What?"

"That you could get the skins for me."

"Oh! So soon as I am my own master again you can depend on me."

"I do not wish you to expose your life to satisfy a whim."

"Oh, señorita!" he said reproachfully.

"No; I have a way to procure them more easily."

"Ah! Very good. Let us see."

"A renowned Tigrero arrived at Guaymas a few days back."

"Don Martial Asuzena?" he quickly interrupted her.

"Do you know him?"

"Who does not know the Tigrero?"

"Well, I heard that he has brought from his last hunt on the western prairies some magnificent jaguar skins, which, I have no doubt, he would be willing to sell at a fair price."

"I am certain of it."

"Here," she said, drawing a small, carefully-sealed note from her bosom, "is a letter you will give that man. I describe in it the way in which I should like to have the skins prepared, and the price I am willing to give. Here is the money," she added, as she handed him a purse; "you will arrange the matter for me."

"There was no occasion to write," the capataz remarked.

"Pardon me, my friend, you have so many things to think of, that a trifle like this might easily slip your memory."

"Well, that is possible; so perhaps you have acted wisely."

"Well, then, it is agreed – you will perform my commission?"

"Can you doubt it?"

"No, my friend. But stay, one word more. Do not say anything to my father. You know how kind he is; he would want to make me a present of them, and I wish to pay for the skins out of my own purse."

The capataz began laughing at the joke. The worthy man was delighted at sharing a secret, however slight it might be, with his darling child, as he called his young mistress.

"It is settled," he said; "I will be dumb."

The girl gave him a friendly nod and withdrew. What was the meaning of the note? Why did she write it? We shall soon learn.

The day passed at the hacienda without further incidents. The count made several attempts to have a conversation with the doña, which she constantly sought to avoid.

Blas Vasquez, on quitting the colony, struck the Guaymas road, and made his troop go at a sharp trot, through fear of a surprise. He had scarce lost sight of the colony, and entered the tall grass, when two men, leaping into the middle of the path, checked their horses about twenty paces ahead of him. One of them was an Indian; the other the capataz recognised at a glance as the man who had come to the hacienda that morning. Vasquez commanded his men to halt, and advancing alone to meet the stranger, said, —

"By what accident do I meet you here, señor Francés? You are still far from the meeting place you indicated yourself."

"We are so," was the reply; "but as we found no Apache trail in the prairie we thought it useless to give you a long journey. I have been sent to conduct you to the ambush we have chosen."

"You did right. Have we far to go?"

"No, hardly a quarter of an hour's ride. We are going to that islet, which you can see by standing in your stirrups," he added, stretching out his arm in the direction of the river.

"Eh?" the capataz said. "The spot is well chosen: we can command the river from there."

"That is the reason why he selected it."

"Be good enough, then, to serve as our guide, señor Francés: we will follow you."

The detachment set out again. As Don Louis had stated, within a quarter of an hour the capataz and the peons were encamped on the islet with the five adventurers, so well masked by grassland mangroves, that it was impossible to see them from either bank of the river.

So soon as the capataz had performed his duties as head of the detachment, he sat down at the bivouac fire by the side of his new friends, to whom Don Louis presented him. The first person Blas perceived was Don Martial, the Tigrero. At the sight of him he could hardly refrain from a movement of surprise.

"Caspita!" he exclaimed, with a loud laugh; "the meeting is curious."

"Why so?" the Mexican asked, rather annoyed by this recognition, which he had not expected, for he did not think the capataz knew him.

"Are you not Don Martial Asuzena?"

"Yes," he replied, more and more restless.

"My faith! I should have found it difficult to meet you at Guaymas; but I did not expect to find you here."

"Explain yourself, I beg. I cannot understand you at all."

"My young mistress gave me a message for you."

"What do you say?" the Tigrero exclaimed, his heart beginning to palpitate.

"What I say, nothing else. Doña Anita wishes to buy two jaguar skins of you, it appears."

"Of me?"

"Yes."

Don Martial regarded him with such an air of amazement that the capataz began again laughing heartily. This laughter aroused the young man; made him conjecture there was some mystery in the affair; and that if he continued to look so astonished, he would arouse suspicions in the worthy man, who probably did not know the word of the riddle.

"'Tis true," he said, as if trying to remember something, "I fancy I can call to mind some time back – "

"Then," the capataz interrupted him, "it's all right; besides, I was asked to hand you a letter so soon as I met you."

"A letter from whom?"

"Why, from my mistress, I suppose."

"From Doña Anita?"

"Who else?"

"Give it me quickly," the Tigrero exclaimed in great agitation.

The capataz handed it to him. Don Martial tore it from his hands, broke the seal with trembling fingers, and devoured it with his eyes. When he had finished reading it he concealed it in his bosom.

"Well," the capataz asked him, "what does my mistress say?"

"Only what you told me yourself," the Tigrero replied, in anything but a firm voice.

Blas Vasquez shook his head.

"Hem! That man is certainly hiding something from me," he muttered. "Can Doña Anita have deceived me?"

In the meanwhile the Tigrero walked about in agitation, apparently revolving some important project. At length he approached Belhumeur, who was smoking silently, and, leaning over his ear, uttered a few words in a low voice, to which the Canadian answered with a nod of assent. A flash of joy illumined the Tigrero's gloomy face as he made a sign to Cucharés to follow him, and quitted the bivouac a few minutes later. Don Martial and the lepero, both mounted, swam across the space separating them from the main land. The capataz perceived them at the moment they landed, and uttered a cry of astonishment.

"Why," he exclaimed, "the Tigrero is leaving us. Where can he be going?"

Belhumeur regarded the Mexican with his bittersweet look, and replied, with a jesting accent, —

"Who knows? Perhaps he is going to carry the answer to the letter you gave him."

"That is not impossible," the capataz remarked thoughtfully, little suspecting that he spoke the exact truth.

At this moment the sun set in floods of purple and gold far away in the horizon behind the snow-clad peaks of the lofty mountains of the Sierra Madre, and night soon stretched her black cerecloth over the earth.

CHAPTER XIII

A NIGHT JOURNEY

Events have so multiplied during the course of this night, that to keep headway with the incidents, we are compelled to pass incessantly from one person to another.

Don Martial was rich – very rich – eager for excitement, and endowed with warlike instincts. He had only embraced the profession of Tigrero in order to have a plausible excuse for his constant travels in the desert, which he had passed his whole life in travelling in every direction.

The Tigreros are generally wood rangers or old hunters, who, for a certain salary and a premium on each hide, engage with a hacendero to kill the wild beasts that decimate his herds. What others did for money, he performed simply for pleasure; hence he was greatly liked on the frontiers, and especially welcomed by all the hacenderos, who found in him not only the clever and daring hunter, but also the boon companion and the caballero.

Don Martial saw Doña Anita for the first time when the chances of his adventurous life had led him to a hacienda belonging to Don Sylva, where, within the space of a month, he killed some dozen wild beasts. As the Tigrero constantly watched the young girl, whom he could not see without falling madly in love with, it happened that one day, when Anita's horse ran away, he was near enough to save her at the peril of his own life. It was through this event that the girl first noticed and spoke to him. We know the rest.

Cucharés was not at all pleased with the sudden departure from the island. He inwardly cursed the folly which made him attach himself to a man like him he now followed, who might expose him at any moment to the chances of getting an arrow through his body, without any profit or available excuse. Still Cucharés was not the man to feel long angry with the Tigrero. He knew that grave reasons alone could have induced him to leave a shelter at that hour of the night, resign the aid of the hunters, and go wandering about the desert without any apparent object. He burned to know the reasons; but he knew that Don Martial was no great talker, and had a great objection to having his secrets spied out; and as, in spite of all his bounce, he entertained a great respect for the Tigrero, mingled with a decent amount of fear, he deferred to a more favourable moment the numerous questions he longed to ask him.

The two men, then, marched on side by side silently, allowing the reins to hang on their horses' heads, and each indulging in his own reflections. Still Cucharés remarked that Don Martial, instead of seeking the cover of the forest, obstinately followed the river bank, and kept his horse as close to it as possible.

The darkness grew rapidly denser around them; distant objects began to be lost in the masses of shadow on the horizon, and they soon found themselves in complete obscurity. For some time the lepero tried, by coughing or uttering exclamations, to attract his comrade's attention, though unsuccessfully; but when he saw that the night had completely set in, while the Tigrero marched on without appearing to notice the fact, he at length mustered up courage to address him.

"Don Martial," he said.

"Well," the latter replied carelessly.

"Do you not think it is time for us to stop a little?"

"What for?"

"What for?" the lepero replied, with a bound of surprise.

"Yes; we have not arrived yet."

"Then we are going somewhere?"

"Why else should we have left our friends?"

"That's true. Where are we going, though? That is what I should like to know."

"You will soon do so."

"I confess that I should be glad of it."

There was again silence, during which they continued to advance. They had left the hill of Guetzalli about two musket shots behind them, and reached a sort of creek, which through the windings of the river, was almost parallel with the back of the hacienda, whose gloomy and imposing mass rose before them. Don Martial stopped.

"We have arrived," he said.

"At last!" the lepero muttered with a sigh of satisfaction.

"I mean to say," the Tigrero went on, "that the easiest part of our expedition is ended."

"We are making an expedition then?"

"By Jove! Do you fancy, then, my good fellow, that I am marching along the banks of the Gila merely for amusement?"

"That surprised me, too."

"Now our expedition will speedily commence in reality."

"Good!"

"I must warn you, however, that it is rather dangerous; however, I counted on you."

"Thanks," Cucharés answered, making a grimace which had some pretensions to resemble a smile. The truth is, the lepero would have preferred that his friend had not given him this proof of confidence. Don Martial continued, —

"We are going there;" and he extended his arm in the direction of the river.

"Where then? To the hacienda?"

"Yes."

"You wish us to be cut in pieces."

"How so?"

"Do you believe we shall reach the hacienda without being discovered?"

"We will try it at any rate."

"Yes; and as we shall not succeed, those demons of Frenchmen, who are on the watch, will take us for savages, and be safe to shoot at us."

"It is a risk to run."

"Thanks! I prefer remaining here, for I confess I am not yet mad enough to put myself in the wolf's jaws for mere sport. Go where you please, but I stay here."

The Tigrero could not suppress a smile.

"The danger is not so great as you suppose," he said. "We are expected at the hacienda by someone who will doubtlessly have moved the sentinels from the spot where we shall land."

"That is possible, but I do not care to try the experiment, for a bullet never pardons; besides, those Frenchmen are tremendous marksmen."

The Tigrero made no reply; he did not seem even to have heard his companion's remark. His mind was elsewhere. With his body bent forward, he was listening. During the last few minutes the desert had assumed a singular appearance. It woke up. All sorts of noises were heard from the depths of the thickets and clearings. Animals of every description rushed from the covert, and madly passed the two men without noticing them. The birds startled from their first sleep, rose uttering shrill cries, and circled in the air. In the river might be seen the outlines of wild beasts swimming vigorously to reach the other bank. In a word, something extraordinary was taking place.

At intervals dry crackling sounds and hoarse murmurs, like those of rising water, broke the silence, and became with each moment more intense. On the extreme verge of the horizon a large band of bright red, growing wider from minute to minute, spread over the scene a purple and gold glare, which gave it a fantastic appearance. Already, on two different occasions, enormous clouds of smoke spangled with sparks had whirled over the heads of the two men.