The Trappers of Arkansas: or, The Loyal Heart
The Comanches threw themselves upon their chief, and notwithstanding the respect in which they held him, they disarmed him to prevent his making any attack upon the hunter.
Loyal Heart, after thanking them, himself restored his arms to the chief; who received them coldly, casting a sinister glance at his generous adversary.
The hunter, perceiving this feeling, shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, and departed with the prisoner.
Loyal Heart had, in less than ten minutes, made for himself an implacable enemy and a devoted friend.
The history of the prisoner was simple.
Having left Canada with his father, for the purpose of hunting in the prairies, they had fallen into the hands of the Comanches; after a desperate resistance, his father had fallen covered with wounds. The Indians, irritated at this death, which robbed them of a victim, had bestowed the greatest care upon the young man, in order that he might honourably figure at the stake of punishment, and this would inevitably have happened had it not been for the providential intervention of Loyal Heart.
After having obtained these particulars, the hunter asked the young man what his intentions were, and whether the rough apprenticeship he had gone through as a wood ranger had not disgusted him with a life of adventures.
"By my faith, no!" the other replied; "on the contrary, I feel more determined than ever to follow this career; and, besides," he added, "I wish to avenge my father."
"That is just," the hunter observed.
The conversation broke off at this point.
Loyal Heart, having conducted the young man to one of his cachés (a sort of magazines dug in the earth in which trappers collect their wealth), produced the complete equipment of a trapper, – gun, knife, pistols, game bags, and traps, – and then, after placing these things before his protégé, he said simply, —
"Go! and God speed you!"
The other looked at him without replying; he evidently did not understand him.
Loyal Heart smiled.
"You are free," he resumed; "here are all the objects necessary for your new trade, – I give them to you, the desert is before you; I wish you good luck!"
The young man shook his head.
"No," he said, "I will not leave you unless you drive me from you; I am alone, without family or friends; you have saved my life, and I belong to you."
"It is not my custom to receive payment for the services I render," said the hunter.
"You require to be paid for them too dearly," the other answered warmly, "since you refuse to accept gratitude. Take back your gifts, they are of no use to me; I am not a mendicant to whom alms can be thrown; I prefer going back and delivering myself up again to the Comanches – adieu!"
And the Canadian resolutely walked away in the direction of the Indian camp.
Loyal Heart was affected. This young man had so frank, so honest and spirited an air, that he felt something in his breast speak strongly in his favour.
"Stop!" he said.
And the other stopped.
"I live alone," the hunter continued; "the existence which you will pass with me will be a sad one: a great grief consumes me; why should you attach yourself to me, who are unhappy?"
"To share your grief, if you think me worthy, and to console you, if that be possible; when man is left alone, he runs the risk of falling into despair; God has ordained that he should seek companions."
"That is true," the still undecided hunter murmured.
"Why do you pause?" the young man asked anxiously.
Loyal Heart gazed at him for a moment attentively; his eagle eye seemed to seek to penetrate his most secret thoughts; then, doubtless, satisfied with his examination, he asked,
"What is your name?"
"Belhumeur," the other replied; "or, if you prefer it, George Talbot; but I am generally known by the first name."
The hunter smiled.
"That is a promising name," he said, holding out his hand. "Belhumeur," he added, "from this time you are my brother; henceforth there is a friendship for life and death between us."
He kissed him above the eyes, as is the custom in the prairies in similar circumstances.
"For life and death," the Canadian replied, with a burst of enthusiasm, warmly pressing the hand which was held out to him, and kissing, in his turn, his new brother under the eyes.
And this was the way in which Loyal Heart and Belhumeur had become known to each other. During five years, not the least cloud, not the shadow of a cloud, had darkened the friendship which these two superior natures had sworn to each other in the desert, in the face of God. On the contrary, every day seemed to increase it; they had but one heart between them. Completely relying on each other, divining each other's most secret thoughts, these two men had seen their strength augment tenfold, and such was their reciprocal confidence, that they doubted nothing, and undertook and carried out the most daring expeditions, in face of which ten resolute men would have paused.
But everything succeeded with them, nothing appeared to be impossible to them; it might be said that a charm protected them, and rendered them invulnerable and invincible.
Their reputation was thus spread far and near, and those whom their name did not strike with admiration repeated it with terror.
After a few months passed by Loyal Heart in studying his companion, drawn away by that natural want which man feels of confiding his troubles to a faithful friend, the hunter no longer had any secrets from Belhumeur. This confidence, which the young man expected impatiently, but which he had done nothing to bring about, had bound still closer, if possible, the ties which united the two men, by furnishing the Canadian with the means of giving his friend the consolations which his bruised spirit required, and of avoiding irritating wounds that were ever bleeding.
On the day we met them in the prairie, they had just been the victims of an audacious robbery, committed by their ancient enemy, Eagle Head, the Comanche chief, whose hatred and rancour, instead of being weakened by time, had, on the contrary, only increased.
The Indian, with the characteristic deceit of his race, had dissembled, and devoured in silence the affront he had undergone from his people, and of which the two palefaced hunters were the direct cause, and awaited patiently the hour of vengeance. He had quietly dug a pit under the feet of his enemies, by prejudicing the redskins by degrees against them, and adroitly spreading calumnies about them. Thanks to this system, he had at length succeeded, or, at least, he thought he had, in making all the individuals dispersed over the prairies, even the white and half-breed hunters, consider these two men as their enemies.
As soon as this result had been obtained, Eagle Head placed himself at the head of thirty devoted warriors; and, anxious to bring about a quarrel that might ruin the men whose death he had sworn to accomplish, he had in one single night stolen all their traps, certain that they would not leave such an insult unpunished, but would try to avenge it.
The chief was not deceived in his calculations; all had fallen out just as he had foreseen it would.
In this position he awaited his enemies.
Thinking that they would find no assistance among the Indians or hunters, he flattered himself that with the thirty men he commanded he could easily seize the two hunters, whom he proposed to put to death with atrocious tortures.
But he had committed the fault of concealing the number of his warriors, in order to inspire more confidence in the hunters.
The latter had only partially been the dupes of this stratagem. Considering themselves sufficiently strong to contend even with twenty Indians, they had claimed the assistance of no one to avenge themselves upon enemies they despised, and had, as we have seen, set out resolutely in pursuit of the Comanches.
Closing here this parenthesis, a rather long one, it is true, but indispensable to understand of what is to follow, we will take up our narrative at the point we broke off at, on terminating the preceding chapter.
CHAPTER III.
THE TRAIL
Eagle Head, who wished to be discovered by his enemies, had not taken any pains to conceal his trail.
It was perfectly visible in the high grass, and if now and then it appeared to be effaced, the hunters had but slightly to turn to one side or the other to regain the prints of it.
Never before had a foe been pursued on the prairies in such a fashion. It must have appeared the more singular to Loyal Heart, who, for a long time, had been acquainted with the cunning of the Indians, and knew with what skill, when they judged it necessary, they caused every indication of their passage to disappear.
This facility gave him reason to reflect. As the Comanches had taken no more pains to conceal their track, they must either believe themselves very strong, or else they had prepared an ambush into which they hoped to make their too confident enemies fall.
The two hunters rode on, casting, from time to time, a look right and left, in order to be sure they were not deceived; but the track still continued in a straight line, without turnings or circuits. It was impossible to meet with greater facilities in a pursuit. Belhumeur himself began to think this very extraordinary, and to be made seriously uneasy by it.
But if the Comanches had been unwilling to take the pains of concealing their trail, the hunters did not follow their example; they did not advance a step without effacing the trace of their passage.
They arrived thus on the banks of a tolerably broad rivulet, named the Verdigris, which is a tributary of the great Canadian river.
Before crossing this little stream, on the other side of which the hunters would no longer be very far from the Indians, Loyal Heart stopped, making a sign to his companion to do so likewise.
Both dismounted, and leading their horses by the bridle, they sought the shelter of a clump of trees, in order not to be perceived, if, by chance, some Indian sentinel should be set to watch their approach.
When they were concealed in the thickness of the wood, Loyal Heart placed a finger on his lip to recommend prudence to his companion, and, approaching his lips to his ear, he said, in a voice low as a breath, —
"Before we go any farther, let us consult, in order to ascertain what we had better do."
Belhumeur bent his head in sign of acquiescence.
"I suspect some treachery," the hunter resumed; "Indians are too experienced warriors, and too much accustomed to the life of the prairies, to act in this way without an imperative reason."
"That is true," the Canadian replied, with a tone of conviction; "this trail is too good and too plainly indicated not to conceal a snare."
"Yes, but they have wished to be too cunning; their craft has overshot the mark; old hunters, like us, are not to be deceived thus. We must redouble our prudence, and examine every leaf and blade of grass with care, before we venture nearer the encampment of the redskins."
"Let us do better," said Belhumeur, casting a glance around him; "let us conceal our horses in a safe place, where we can find them again at need, and then go and reconnoitre on foot the position and the number of those whom we wish to surprise."
"You are right, Belhumeur," said Loyal Heart; "your counsel is excellent, we will put it in practice."
"I think we had better make haste in that case."
"Why so? On the contrary, do not let us hurry; the Indians, not seeing us appear, will relax in their watchfulness, and we will profit by their negligence to attack them, if we should be forced to have recourse to such extreme measures; besides, it would be better to wait for the night before we commence our expedition."
"In the first place, let us put our horses in safety. Afterwards, we shall see what is best to be done."
The hunters left their concealment with the greatest precaution. Instead of crossing the river, they retraced their road, and for some time followed the route they had already traversed, then they bent a little to the left, and entered a ravine, in which they quickly disappeared among the high grass.
"I leave you to be guide, Belhumeur," said Loyal Heart, "I really do not know whither you are leading me!"
"Leave it to me, I have by chance discovered, within two gunshots of the place where we now are, a sort of citadel, where our horses will be as safe as possible, and in which, if so it should fall out, we should be able to sustain a regular siege."
"Caramba!" the hunter exclaimed, who, by this oath, which was habitual with him, betrayed his Spanish origin, "how did you make this precious discovery?"
"Faith!" said Belhumeur, "in the simplest manner possible. I had just laid my traps, when, in climbing up the mountain before us in order to shorten my road and rejoin you more quickly, at nearly two-thirds of the ascent, I saw, protruding from the bushes the velvety muzzle of a superb bear."
"Ah! ah! I am pretty well acquainted with that adventure. You brought me that day, if I am not mistaken, not one, but two black bearskins."
"That is the same, my fine fellows were two, one male and the other female. You may easily suppose that at the sight of them my hunter's instincts were immediately roused; forgetful of my fatigue, I cocked my rifle, and set out in pursuit of them. You will see for yourself what sort of a fortress they had chosen," he added, as he alighted from his horse, and Loyal Heart followed his example.
Before them rose, in the shape of an amphitheatre, a mass of rocks, which assumed the most curious and fantastic shapes; thin bushes sprang here and there from the interstices of the stones, climbing plants crowned the summits of the rocks, and gave to this mass, which rose more than six hundred feet above the prairie, the appearance of one of those ancient feudal ruins which are to be met with occasionally on the banks of the great rivers of Europe.
This place was named by the hunters of these plains, the White Castle, from the colour of the blocks of granite which formed it.
"We shall never be able to get up there with our horses," said Loyal Heart, after carefully surveying for an instant the space they had to clear.
"Let us try, at all events!" said Belhumeur, pulling his horse by the bridle.
The ascent was rough, and any other horses than those of hunters, accustomed to the most difficult roads, would have been unable to accomplish it, but would have rolled from the top to the bottom.
It was necessary to choose with care the spot on which the foot must be placed, and then to spring forward at a bound, and all this with turnings and twisting enough to produce a dizziness.
After half an hour of extraordinary difficulties they arrived at a sort of platform, ten yards broad at most.
"This is it!" said Belhumeur, stopping.
"How this?" Loyal Heart replied, looking around on all sides without perceiving an opening.
"Come this way!" said Belhumeur, smiling.
And still dragging his horse after him, he passed behind a block of the rock, the hunter following him with awakened curiosity.
After walking for five minutes in a sort of trench, at most three feet wide, which seemed to wind round upon itself, the adventurers found themselves suddenly before the yawning mouth of a deep cavern.
This road, formed by one of those terrible convulsions of nature so frequent in these regions, was so well concealed behind the rocks and stones which masked it, that it was impossible to discover it except by a providential chance.
The hunters entered.
Before ascending the mountain, Belhumeur had collected a large provision of candlewood; he lit two torches, keeping one for himself, and giving the other to his companion.
Then the grotto appeared to them in all its wild majesty.
Its walls were high and covered with brilliant stalactites, which reflected back the light, multiplying it, and forming a fairy-like illumination.
"This cavern," said Belhumeur, after he had given his friend time to examine it in all its details, "is, I have no doubt, one of the wonders of the prairies; this gallery, which descends in a gentle declivity before us, passes under the Verdigris, and debouches on the other side of the river, at a distance of more than a mile, into the plain. In addition to the gallery by which we entered, and that which is before us, there exist four others, all of which have issues at different places. You see that here we are in no risk of being surrounded, and that these spacious chambers offer us a suite of apartments splendid enough to make the president of the United States himself jealous."
Loyal Heart, enchanted with the discovery of this refuge, wished to examine it perfectly, and although he was naturally very silent, the hunter could not always withhold his admiration.
"Why have you never told me of this place before?" he said to Belhumeur.
"I waited for the opportunity," the latter replied.
The hunters secured their horses, with abundance of provender, in one of the compartments of the grotto, into which the light penetrated by imperceptible fissures; and then, when they were satisfied that the noble animals; could want for nothing during their absence, and could not escape, they threw their rifles over their shoulders, whistled to their dogs, and, descended with hasty steps the gallery which passed under the river.
Soon the air became moist around them, a dull, continuous noise was heard above their heads, – they were passing under the Verdigris. Thanks to a species of lantern, formed by a hollow rock rising in the middle of the river's course, there was light sufficient to guide them.
After half an hour's walk they debouched in the prairie by an entrance masked by bushes and creeping plants.
They had remained a long time in the grotto. In the first place, they had examined it minutely, like men who foresaw that some day or other they should stand in need of seeking a shelter there; next they had made a kind of stable for their horses; and lastly, they had snatched a hasty morsel of food, so that the sun was on the point of setting at the moment when they set off again upon the track of the Comanches.
Then commenced the true Indian pursuit. The two hunters, after having laid on their bloodhounds, glided silently in their traces, creeping on their hands and knees through the high grass, the eye on the watch, the ear on the listen, holding their breath, and stopping at intervals to inhale the air, and interrogate those thousand sounds of the prairies which hunters notice with incredible facility, and which they explain without hesitation.
The desert was plunged in a death-like silence.
At the approach of night in these immense solitudes, nature seems to collect herself, and prepare, by a religious devotion, for the mysteries of darkness.
The hunters continued advancing, redoubling their precautions, and creeping along in parallel lines.
All at once the dogs came silently to a stop. The brave animals seemed to comprehend the value of silence in these parts, and that a single cry would cost their masters their lives.
Belhumeur cast a piercing glance around him. His eye flashed, he gathered himself up, and bounding like a panther, he sprang upon an Indian warrior, who, with his body bent forward, and his head down, seemed to be sensible of the approach of an enemy.
The Indian was roughly thrown upon his back, and before he could utter a cry of distress or for help, Belhumeur had his throat in his grasp and his knee on his breast.
Then, with the greatest coolness, the hunter unsheathed his knife, and plunged it up to the hilt in the heart of his enemy.
When the savage saw that he was lost, he disdained to attempt any useless resistance, but fixing upon the Canadian a look of hatred and contempt, an ironical smile curled his lips, and he awaited death with a calm face.
Belhumeur replaced his knife in his belt, and pushing the body on one side, said imperturbably, —
"One!"
And he crept on again.
Loyal Heart had watched the movements of his friend with the greatest attention, ready to succour him if it were necessary; when the Indian was dead, he calmly took up the trail again.
Ere long the light of a fire gleamed between the trees and an odour of roasted flesh struck the keen smell of the hunters.
They drew themselves up like two phantoms along an enormous cork tree, which was within a few paces of them, and embracing the gnarled trunk, concealed themselves among the tufted branches.
Then they looked out, and found that they were, it might be said, soaring over the camp of the Comanches, situated within ten yards of them, at most.
CHAPTER IV.
THE TRAVELLERS
About the same hour that the trappers issued from the grotto, and took up the trail of the Comanches again, at twenty miles' distance from them, a rather large party of white travellers halted upon the banks of the great Canadian river and prepared to encamp for the night in a magnificent position, where there were still some remains of an ancient camp of an Indian hunting party.
The hunters and the half-breed Gambusinos who served as guides to the travellers hastened to unload a dozen mules, which were escorted by Mexican lanceros.
With the bales they made an enclosure of an oval form, in the interior of which they lit a fire; then, without troubling themselves any further about their companions, the guides united together in a little group and prepared their evening repast.
A young officer, of about twenty-five years of age, of martial bearing, with delicately marked features, went up respectfully to a palanquin drawn by two mules and escorted by two horsemen.
"In what place would you wish, señor, the señorita's tent to be pitched?" the young officer asked, as he raised his hat.
"Where you please, Captain Aguilar, provided it be quickly done; my niece is sinking with fatigue," the cavalier, who rode on the right of the palanquin, replied.
He was a man of lofty stature, with hard marked features, and an eagle eye, whose hair was as white as the snows of Chimborazo, and who, under the large military cloak which he wore, allowed glimpses to appear of the splendid uniform, glittering with embroidery, of a Mexican general.
The captain retired, with another bow, and returning to the lanceros, he gave them orders to set up in the middle of the camp enclosure, a pretty tent, striped rose colour and blue, which was carried across the back of a mule.
Five minutes later, the general, dismounting, offered his hand gallantly to a young female, who sprang lightly from the palanquin, and conducted her to the tent, where, thanks to the attentions of Captain Aguilar, everything was so prepared that she found herself as comfortable as circumstances would permit.
Behind the general and his niece, two other persons entered the tent.
One was short and stout, with a full, rosy face, green spectacles, and a light-coloured wig, who appeared to be choking in the uniform of an army surgeon.
This personage, whose age was a problem, but who appeared to be about fifty, was named Jérome Boniface Duveux; he was a Frenchman, and a surgeon-major in the Mexican service.
On alighting from his horse, he had seized and placed under his arm, with a species of respect, a large valise fastened to the hinder part of his saddle, and from which he seemed unwilling to part.
The second person was a girl of about fifteen years of age, of a forward and lively mien, with a turn-up nose and a bold look, belonging to the half-breed race, who served as lady's maid to the general's niece.
A superb Negro, decorated with the majestic name of Jupiter, hastened, aided by two or three Gambusinos, to prepare the supper.
"Well! doctor," said the general, smiling, to the fat man, who came in puffing like a bullock, and sat down upon his valise, "how do you find my niece this evening?"
"The señorita is always charming!" the doctor replied gallantly, as he wiped his brow, "Do you not find the heat very oppressive?"
"Faith! no," replied the general, "not more so than usual."
"Well, it appears so to me!" said the doctor with a sigh. "What are you laughing at, you little witch?" added he, turning towards the waiting maid, who, in fact, was laughing with all her might.