The Trapper's Daughter: A Story of the Rocky Mountains

The cavern had several issues in diametrically opposite directions; and they were so well hidden, that it was impossible to notice them outside. Only one thing alarmed the adventurers, and that was the chances of procuring food; but to that Red Cedar replied that nothing was easier than to set traps, or even hunt on the mountain.

Ellen had fallen into a broken sleep on a bed of furs her father had hastily prepared for her. The wretched girl had so suffered and endured such fatigue during the last few days, that she literally could not stand on her feet. When the three men had inspected the cave, they returned and sat down by her side; Red Cedar looked at her sleeping with an expression of infinite tenderness; he was too fond of his daughter not to pity her, and think with grief of the fearful destiny that awaited her by his side; unhappily, any remedy was impossible. Fray Ambrosio, whose mind was always busy, drew the squatter from his reverie.

"Well, gossip," he said, "I suppose we are condemned to spend some time here?"

"Until our pursuers, tired of seeking us in vain, at length determine to go off."

"They may be long; hence, for the greater secrecy, I propose one thing."

"What is it?"

"There are blocks of stone here which time has detached from the roof; before we go to sleep, I propose that we roll three or four of the largest into the hole by which we entered."

"Why so?" the squatter asked abruptly.

"In our present position two precautions are better than one; the Indians are such cunning demons, that they are capable of coming down the tree."

"The padre is right, old one," Sutter, who was half asleep, said; "it is no great task to roll the stones; but in that way we shall be easy in our minds."

"Do what you like," the squatter answered, still continuing to gaze on his daughter.

The two men, with their chief's approval, rose to carry out their plan, and half an hour later the hole was so artistically closed up, that no one would have suspected it had he not known it before.

"Now we can sleep, at any rate," said Fray Ambrosio.

CHAPTER XXXVII

THE CASKET

In spite of the start White Gazelle had, Don Pablo caught up to her before she had gone two leagues from camp. On hearing a horse galloping behind her, the girl turned, and one glance was sufficient for her to recognise the Mexican. At the sight of him a feverish flush suffused her face, a convulsive tremor fell upon her, and, in short, the emotion she felt was so powerful, that she was compelled to stop. Still, ashamed of letting the man she hopelessly loved see the impression the sight of him produced on her, she made a supreme effort, and managed to assume a look of indifference, while thoughts crowded her brain.

"What is he going to do here? Where is he going? We shall see," she added to herself.

She waited, and Don Pablo soon found her. The young man, suffering from extreme nervous excitement, was in the worst possible mood to act diplomatically. On reaching the White Gazelle he bowed, and continued his journey without speaking to her. White Gazelle shook her head.

"I know how to make him speak," she said.

Hitting her horse sharply with her chicote, she started at a gallop, and kept by Don Pablo's side. The two riders went on thus for some time without exchanging a syllable. Each of them seemed afraid of opening the conversation, feeling in what direction it must turn. Still galloping side by side, they at length reached a spot where two paths forked. White Gazelle checked her horse, and stretched out her arm in a northerly direction. "I am going there," she said.

"So am I," Don Pablo remarked, without hesitation.

The young woman looked at him with a surprise too natural not to be feigned.

"Where are you going, then?" she went on.

"Where you are," he said again.

"But I am going to Bloodson's camp."

"Well, so am I; what is there so amazing in that?"

"Nothing; how does it concern me?" she said with a significant pout.

"You will, therefore, permit me, Niña, to accompany you to your destination."

"I cannot and will not prevent you from following me; the road is free, caballero," she drily replied.

They were silent as if by common agreement, and were absorbed in thought. White Gazelle gave her companion one of those bright womanly glances that read to the bottom of the heart; a smile played round her cherry lips, and she shook her head maliciously. Singular thoughts doubtless fermented in her head.

At about two of the tarde, as they say in Spanish countries, they reached a ford on a small river, on the other side of which the huts of Bloodson's camp could be seen at a distance of about two leagues. White Gazelle halted, and at the moment her companion was about to take to the water, she laid her little hand on his bridle, and checked him, saying, in a soft but firm voice: "Before we go further, a word if you please, caballero."

Don Pablo looked at her in surprise, but made no attempt to remove the obstacle.

"I am listening to you, señorita," he said, with a bow.

"I know why you are going to Bloodson's camp," she continued.

"I doubt it," he said, with a shake of the head.

"Boy! This morning, when I was talking with Don Valentine, you were lying at our feet."

"I was."

"If your eyes were shut, your ears were open."

"What do you mean?"

"That you heard our conversation."

"Suppose I did, what do you conclude from that?"

"You are going to the camp to counteract my plans, and make them fail, if possible."

The young man started and looked disappointed at being so truly judged.

"Señorita," he said, with embarrassment.

"Do not deny it," she said kindly; "it would be useless, for I know all."

"All!"

"Yes, and a great deal more than you know yourself."

The Mexican was amazed.

"Let us play fairly," she continued.

"I ask nothing better," he replied, not knowing what he said.

"You love the squatter's daughter?" she said distinctly.

"Yes."

"You wish to save her?"

"Yes."

"I will help you."

There was a silence; these few words had been interchanged by the speakers with feverish rapidity.

"You are not deceiving me?" Don Pablo asked, timidly.

"No," she answered, frankly, "what good would it do me? You have given her your heart, and a man cannot love really twice; I will help you, I say."

The young man gazed at her with surprise mingled with terror. He remembered what an implacable foe White Gazelle had been to poor Ellen only a few months back, and suspected a snare. She guessed it, and a sorrowful smile played round her lips.

"Love is no longer permitted me," she said; "my heart is not even capacious enough for the hatred that devours it. I live only for vengeance. Believe me, Don Pablo, I will treat you honourably. When you are at length happy, and indebted to me for a small portion of the happiness you enjoy, perhaps you will feel a little friendship and gratitude for me. Alas! It is the only feeling I desire now; I am one of those wretched, condemned creatures, who hurled involuntarily into an abyss, cannot check their downward progress. Pity me, Don Pablo, but dismiss all fear; for, I repeat to you, you have not and never will have a more devoted friend than myself."

The girl pronounced these words with such an accent of sincerity, it was so plain that the heart alone spoke, and that the sacrifice was consummated without any after-thought, that Don Pablo felt affected by such abnegation. By an irresistible impulse, he offered her his hand; she pressed it warmly, wiped away a tear, and then banished every trace of emotion.

"Now," she said, "not a word more: we understand one another, I think?"

"Oh, yes," he answered, gladly.

"Let us cross the stream," she said, with a smile; "in half an hour we shall reach the camp; no one must know what has passed between us."

They soon reached Bloodson's camp, where they were received with shouts of pleasure and welcome; they galloped through it and stopped before the ranger's hut, who had come out, aroused by the shouts, and was awaiting. The reception was cordial, and after the first compliments, White Gazelle explained to her uncle the result of her mission and what had occurred in Unicorn's camp while she was there.

"That Red Cedar is a perfect demon," he answered; "I alone have the means in my hands to capture him."

"In what way?" Don Pablo asked.

"You shall see," he said.

Without further explanation, he raised a silver whistle to his lips, and blew a clear and long note. At this summons, the buffalo-hide curtain of the hut was raised from without, and a man appeared, in whom Don Pablo recognised Andrés Garote. The gambusino bowed with that politeness peculiar to Mexicans, and fixed his small grey and intelligent eyes on Bloodson.

"Master Garote," the latter said, turning to him, "I have called you, because I want to speak seriously with you."

"I am at your Excellency's orders," he answered.

"You doubtless remember," Bloodson went on, "the compact you made when I admitted you into my cuadrilla?"

Andrés bowed his affirmative.

"I remember it," he said.

"Very good. Are you still angry with Red Cedar?"

"Not exactly with Red Cedar, Excellency; personally he never did me much harm."

"That is true; but you still have, I suppose, the desire to avenge yourself on Fray Ambrosio?"

A flash of hatred shot from the gambusino's eye.

"I would give my life to have his."

"Good! I like to find you feel in that way; your desire will soon be satisfied, if you are willing."

"If I am willing, Excellency!" the ranchero exclaimed, hotly. "Canarios, tell me what I must do for that, and, on my soul, I will do it. I assure you I will not hesitate."

Bloodson concealed a smile of satisfaction. "Red Cedar, Fray Ambrosio, and their comrades," he said, "are hidden a few miles from here in the mountains; you will go there."

"I will."

"Wait a minute. You will join them in some way, gain their confidences, and when you have obtained this necessary information, you will return here, so that we may crush this brood of vipers."

The gambusino reflected for a moment: Bloodson fancied he was unwilling.

"What, you hesitate!" he said.

"I hesitate!" the ranchero exclaimed, shaking his head with a peculiar smile. "No, no, Excellency, I was merely reflecting."

"What about?"

"I will tell you: the mission you give me is one of life and death. If I fail, I know what I have to expect: Red Cedar will kill me like a dog."

"Very probably."

"He will be right in doing so, and I shall be unable to reproach him; but, when I am dead, I do not wish that villain to escape."

"Trust to my word."

The gambusino's foxy face assumed an extraordinary expression of cunning. "I do trust to it, Excellency," he said; "but you have very serious business that occupies nearly all your time, and perhaps, without desiring it, you might forget me."

"You need not fear that."

"We can answer for nothing, Excellency; there are very strange circumstances in life."

"What do you want to arrive at? Come, explain yourself frankly."

Andrés Garote lifted his zarapé, and took from under it a little steel box, which he placed on the table near which Bloodson was sitting. "Here, Excellency," he said, in that soft voice which never left him; "take that casket; so soon as I am gone break open the lock, I am certain you will find it contains papers that will interest you."

"What do these words mean?" Bloodson asked anxiously.

"You will see," the gambusino replied, quite unmoved; "in that way, if you forget me, you will not forget yourself, and I shall profit by your vengeance."

"Do you know the contents of these papers, then?"

"Do you suppose, Excellency, that I have had that coffer in my possession for six months, without discovering its contents? No, no, I like to know what I have got. You will find it interesting, Excellency."

"But if that be the case, why did you not give me the papers sooner?"

"Because the hour had not arrived to do so, Excellency; I awaited the opportunity that offers today. The man who wishes to avenge himself must be patient. You know the proverb: 'Vengeance is a fruit that must be eaten ripe.'"

While the gambusino was saying this, Bloodson kept his eyes fixed on the casket. "Are you going?" he asked him, when he ceased speaking.

"Directly, Excellency; but if you permit it, we will make a slight alteration in the instruction you have given me."

"Speak."

"It strikes me that, if I am obliged to return here, we shall lose precious time in coming and going: which time Red Cedar, whose suspicions will be aroused, may profit by to decamp."

"That is true; but what is to be done?"

"Oh, it is very simple. When the moment arrives to spread our nets, I will light a fire on the mountain; which will serve as a signal to you to start at once; still, there would be no harm if someone accompanied me, and remained hidden near the spot where I am going."

"It shall be done as you wish," White Gazelle answered: "two persons will accompany you in lieu of one."

"How so?"

"Don Pablo de Zarate and myself intend to go with you," she continued, giving the young man a glance he understood.

"Then all is for the best," the gambusino said, "and we will start when you like."

"At once, at once," the two young people exclaimed.

"Our horses are not tired, and can easily cover that distance," Don Pablo remarked.

"Make haste, then, for moments are precious," said Bloodson, who burned to be alone.

"I only crave a few moments to saddle my horse."

"Go, we will wait for you here."

The gambusino went out. The three persons remained in silence, all equally perplexed about the casket, on which Bloodson had laid his hand as if afraid of having it torn from him again. Very shortly, a horse was heard galloping outside, and Garote put his head in at the door. "I am ready," he said.

White Gazelle and Don Pablo rose. "Let us go!" they shouted as they ran to the door.

"I wish you luck!" Bloodson said to them.

"Excellency, do not forget the coffer," the gambusino said with a grin; "you will find the contents most interesting to you."

So soon as the ranger was alone, he rose, carefully fastened the door, not to be disturbed in the examination he was about to make, and then sat down again, after selecting from a small deerskin pouch some hooks of different size. He then took the coffer, and carefully examined it all over. There was nothing remarkable about it: it was, as we have said elsewhere, a light casket of carved steel, made with the most exquisite taste – a pretty toy, in a word.

In spite of his desire to know its contents, the ranger hesitated to open it; this pretty little toy caused him an emotion for which he could not account: he fancied he had seen it before, but he racked his brains in vain to try and remember where. "Oh!" he said, speaking to himself in a low hoarse voice; "Can I be approaching the consummation of the object to which I have devoted my life?"

He fell into a profound reverie, and remained for a lengthened period absorbed in a flood of bitter memories, that oppressed his breast. At length he raised his head, shook back his thick hair, and passed his hand over his forehead.

"No more hesitation," he said, hoarsely, "let me know what I have to depend on. Something tells me that my researches will this time be crowned with success."

He then seized one of the hooks with a trembling hand, and put it in the lock; but his emotion was so great that he could not make the instrument act, and he threw it angrily from him. "Am I a child, then?" he said; "I will be calm."

He took the hook up again with a firm hand, and the casket opened. Bloodson looked eagerly into the interior; it only contained two letters, which time had turned yellow. At the sight of them, a livid pallor covered the ranger's face. He evidently recognised the handwriting at the first glance. He uttered a howl of joy, and seized the letters, saying, in a voice that had nothing human about it: – "Here, then, are the proofs I believed to be destroyed!" He unfolded the paper with the most minute precautions, for fear of tearing the creases, and began reading. Ere long, a sigh of relief burst from his overladen bosom.

"Ah!" he uttered, "Heaven has at length delivered you to me, my masters; we will settle our accounts."

He replaced the letters in the casket, closed it again, and carefully hid it in his bosom.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

SMOKE IN THE MOUNTAIN

The three adventurers rapidly left Bloodson's camp, and proceeded in the direction of the mountains, galloping silently side by side. They had a foreboding that the finale of this terrible drama was approaching, and involuntarily their thoughts were sad.

Man is so constituted that the feeling which has most power over him is sadness; human organisation is formed for struggling, and joy is only an anomaly; built to resist the hardest trials, the strongest man is frequently the one who yields most easily to great joy; hence, strange to say nothing more resembles happiness than sorrow; the symptoms are so completely the same, that a great joy annihilates the faculties almost as much as a great sorrow does.

At this moment, the three persons we are following were under the weight of an emotion such as we have described. At the instant when they expected the hopes they had so long entertained would be fulfilled, they felt an emotion which completely mastered them, and for which they could not account. They were about to play for a decisive stake. Ever since they had been contending with this rude adversary, they had ever found him standing in the track, returning them trick for trick, and although cruelly wounded, constantly retaining the victory. This time luck had turned; Heaven itself seemed to have interposed to make justice triumph, and the bandit, driven to his last entrenchments, was expecting them to be forced at any moment.

Still they did not conceal from themselves the difficulties of this final struggle, in which the squatter would escape the fate reserved him by death, unless they managed to deceive him by trickery. In such a state of mind, we may easily suppose that they said nothing, and reached the foot of the mountain without exchanging a syllable. Here they stopped.

"Caballeros," the gambusino said, "before going further, we shall not do badly, I fancy, by making some indispensable arrangements."

"What do you mean, my friend?" Don Pablo asked.

"We are going to enter regions," Andrés replied, "where our horses will become more injurious than useful; in the mountains a footman passes anywhere, a horseman nowhere."

"That is true; let us leave our horses here, then; the noble brutes will not stray beyond the spot where they can find provender. When we require them; we shall be sure to find them again, with a little search."

"Is that the señorita's opinion also?" the gambusino asked respectfully.

"Quite," she answered.

"Then let us dismount, remove saddle and bridle, and leave them to their instinct."

They removed everything that could trouble the horses, and then drove them away. The intelligent animals, accustomed to this, only went a few yards, and began quietly nibbling the thick prairie grass.

"That is all right," the gambusino said; "now let us think of ourselves."

"But the harness," White Gazelle remarked; "the moment will come when we shall be glad to have it ready to hand."

"Perfectly true," said Andrés; "so we will put it in a safe place; for instance, this hollow tree will form a famous storeroom."

"Caramba! that is an original idea," Don Pablo said, "and deserves being followed."

The three saddles were placed in the tree, and so covered with dead leaves, that it would be impossible to suspect their presence.

"Now," said White Gazelle, "let us look after a place to bivouac: the nights are cold at this season, especially in the mountains; day is rapidly departing, and we shall soon be in darkness."

Our three scouts had left the camp at a rather late hour: hence, while they were unsaddling their horses, and hiding the harness, the sun had gradually sunk down beneath the horizon: the short period of twilight had begun, during which day finishes, and night begins, in which darkness and light, struggling desperately together, spread over the landscape a mixed haze, through which objects are regarded as through a prism.

They must profit by this moment to look about them, so that they might run no risk of losing themselves so soon as darkness had gained the victory. They did so, therefore: after carefully noting the position of the different peaks, they boldly set out. They walked for nearly an hour up an ascent constantly becoming steeper, and then reached a species of narrow platform, where they halted for a moment; in the first place to take breath, and then to consult about their further operations.

"Suppose we sleep here?" White Gazelle said. "The perpendicular rock behind us offers a famous shelter, from the wind, and, wrapped up in our zarapés and buffalo robes, I feel convinced we should be quite comfortable."

"Patience, Niña," the gambusino said, sententiously, "we must not talk about sleeping at present."

"Why not?" she said, sharply; "for my part, I may tell you I can sleep famously here."

"Possibly so, Niña," Andrés continued; "but we have something else to do at present."

"What then?"

"Look about us."

"Why, you must be mad, my friend. It is as black as in an oven. The demon himself, though so used to darkness, would tread on his tail."

"That is the very reason; let us take advantage of the moon not having yet risen, to explore the neighbourhood."

"I do not understand you."

"See how transparent the atmosphere is; the vacillating and dubious light of the stars is sufficient to let objects be distinguished at an enormous distance. If the men we are pursuing, eat, which is probable, this is just the hour they would select to cook their food."

"Well?" Don Pablo asked, curiously.

"Follow my argument closely; Red Cedar can only expect enemies from the side of the plain."

"That is true."

"Hence his precautions are taken on that side, and not here; he does not suspect us so near him, and, persuaded that no one is spying him, he will let the smoke of his fire rise peacefully to the sky in the shade of night, convinced that nobody will perceive it, which would be perfectly true, if, unfortunately for him, we were not here. Such is the reason why I urged you to enter the mountains, in spite of the advanced hour."

White Gazelle and Don Pablo were struck by the correctness of this reasoning. They began, in consequence, to form a better opinion of their guide, and tacitly recognise in him that superiority which a man who is thoroughly acquainted with a thing, always acquires at a given moment.

"Do as you think proper," Don Pablo said to him.

"We are quite of your opinion," the girl added.

The gambusino displayed no pride or fatuity at this acknowledgement of the justice of his argument; he contented himself with recommending his companions not to leave the spot where they were till his return, and then went off.

When he was alone, instead of walking as he had hitherto done, the gambusino lay down and began crawling slowly along the rocks, stopping every now and then to raise his head, look around him and listen to the thousand sounds of the desert. At the expiration of about two hours he returned.

"Well?" Don Pablo asked him.

"Come!" the gambusino laconically answered.

They followed, and he led them by a most abrupt path, where they were forced to crawl on their hands and knees, to escape falling over the precipices. After a lengthened ascent, made with extraordinary difficulty, the gambusino stood up, making his companions a sign to follow his example. They did not let the invitation be repeated, for they were completely worn out.

They found themselves on a platform like the one they had previously left; this platform, like the other, was commanded by an immense rock, but this rock had an enormous orifice like the entrance of an oven, and, strange enough, at the end of this orifice glittered a light about the size of a star.