The Trappers of Arkansas: or, The Loyal Heart
"Pay no attention to that wild girl, doctor; you know she is but a child," the young lady said, with a pleasing smile.
"I have always told you, Doña Luz," persisted the doctor, knitting his large eyebrows, and puffing out his cheeks, "that that little girl is a demon, to whom you are much too kind, and who will end by playing you an evil turn some of these days."
"Ooouch! the wicked picker up of pebbles!" the quadroon said with a grin, in allusion to the doctor's mania for collecting stones.
"Come, come, peace!" said the general, "has today's journey fatigued you much, my dear niece?"
"Not exceedingly," the young lady replied, with a suppressed yawn; "during nearly a month that we have been travelling I have become accustomed to this sort of life, which, I confess, at the commencement, I found painful enough."
The general sighed, but made no reply. The doctor was absorbed by the care with which he was classifying the plants and stones which he had collected during the day.
The half-breed girl flew about the tent like a bird, occupied in putting everything in order that her mistress might want.
We will take advantage of this moment of respite to sketch the portrait of the young lady.
Doña Luz de Bermudez was the daughter of a younger sister of the general.
She was a charming girl of sixteen at most. Her large black eyes, surmounted by eyebrows whose deep colour contrasted finely with the whiteness of her fair, pure forehead, were veiled by long velvety lashes, which modestly concealed their splendour; her little mouth was set off by teeth of pearl, edged by lips of coral; her delicate skin wore the down of the ripe peach, and her blue-black hair, when liberated from its bands, formed a veil for her whole person.
Her form was slender and supple, with all the curves of the true line of beauty. She possessed, in an eminent degree, that undulating, gracefully serpentine movement which distinguishes American women; her hands and feet were extremely small, and her step had the careless voluptuousness of the Creole, so full of ever varying attractions.
In short, in the person of this young lady, might be said to be combined all the graces and perfections.
Ignorant as most of her compatriots, she was gay and cheerful; amused with the smallest trifle, and knowing nothing of life but the agreeable side of it.
But this beautiful statue was not animated; it was Pandora before Prometheus had stolen for her fire from heaven, and, to continue our mythological comparison, Love had not yet brushed her with his wing, her brow had not yet been contracted by the pressure of thought, her heart had not yet beaten under the influence of passion.
Brought up under the care of the general in almost cloistral seclusion, she had only quitted it to accompany him in a journey he had undertaken through the prairies.
What was the object of this journey, and why had her uncle so positively insisted upon her making it with him? That was of little consequence to the young girl.
Happy to live in the open air, to be constantly seeing new countries and new objects, to be free in comparison with the life she had hitherto led, she had asked nothing better, and took care never to trouble her uncle with indiscreet questions.
At the period when we met her, then, Doña Luz was a happy girl, living from day to day, satisfied with the present, and thinking nothing of the future.
Captain Aguilar entered, preceding Jupiter, who brought in the dinner.
The table was decked by Phoebe, the waiting maid.
The repast consisted of preserved meats and a joint of roast venison.
Four persons took their places round the table; the general, his niece, the captain, and the doctor.
Jupiter and Phoebe waited.
Conversation languished during the first course; but when the appetite of the party was a little abated, the young girl, who delighted in teasing the doctor, turned to him, and said, —
"Have you made a rich harvest today, doctor?"
"Not too rich, señorita," he replied.
"Well! but," she said, laughing, "there appears to me to be such an abundance of stones on our route, that it only rested with yourself to gather together enough to load a mule."
"You ought to be pleased with your journey," said the general, "for it offers you such an opportunity for indulging in your passion for plants of all sorts."
"Not too great, general, I must confess; the prairie is not so rich as I thought it was; and if it were not for the hope I entertain of discovering one plant, whose qualities may advance science, I should almost regret my little house at Guadeloupe, where my life glided away in such uniform tranquillity."
"Bah!" the captain interrupted, "we are as yet only on the frontiers of the prairies. You will find, when we have penetrated further into the interior, that you will not be able to gather the riches which will spring from under your feet."
"God grant it may be so, captain;" said the doctor, with a sigh; "provided I find the plant I seek I shall be satisfied."
"Is it then such a very valuable plant?" asked Doña Luz.
"What, señorita!" cried the doctor, warming with the question. "A plant which Linnaeus has described and classified, and which no one has since found! a plant that would make my reputation! And you ask me if it is valuable?"
"Of what use is it, then?" the young lady asked, in a tone of curiosity.
"Of what use is it?"
"Yes."
"None at all, that I am aware of," the doctor replied, ingeniously.
Doña Luz broke into a silvery laugh, whose pearly notes might have made a nightingale jealous.
"And you call it a valuable plant?"
"Yes – if only for its rarity."
"Ah! that's all."
"Let us hope you will find it, doctor," said the general in a conciliatory tone. "Jupiter, call the chief of the guides hither."
The Negro left the tent, and almost immediately returned, followed by a Gambusino.
The latter was a man of about forty, tall in stature, square-built, and muscular. His countenance, though not exactly ugly, had something repulsive in it for which the spectator was at a loss to account; his wild, sinister-looking eyes, buried under their orbits, cast a savage light, which with his low brow, his curly hair, and his coppery complexion, made altogether a not very agreeable whole. He wore the costume of a wood ranger; he was cold, impassible, of a nature essentially taciturn, and answered to the name of the Babbler, which, no doubt, the Indians or his companions had given him by antiphrasis.
"Here, my good fellow," said the general, holding out to him a glass filled to the brim with a sort of brandy, called mescal, from the name of the place where it is distilled, "drink this."
The hunter bowed, emptied the glass, which contained about a pint, at a draught; then, passing his cuff across his moustache, waited.
"I wish," said the general, "to halt for a few days in some safe position, in order to make, without fear of being disturbed, certain researches; shall we be secure here?"
The eye of the guide sparkled: he fixed a burning glance upon the general.
"No," he replied, laconically.
"Why not?"
"Too many Indians and wild beasts."
"Do you know one more suitable?"
"Yes."
"Is it far?"
"No."
"At what distance?"
"Forty miles."
"How long will it take us to arrive there?"
"Three days."
"That will do. Conduct us thither. Tomorrow, at sunrise, we will set forward in our march."
"Is that all?"
"That is all."
"Good night."
And the hunter withdrew.
"What I admire in the Babbler," said the Captain, with a smile, "is that his conversation never tires you."
"I should like it much better if he spoke more," said the doctor, shaking his head. "I always suspect people who are so afraid of saying too much; they generally have something to conceal."
The guide, after leaving the tent, joined his companions, with whom he began to talk in a low voice, but in a very animated manner.
The night was magnificent; the travellers, assembled in front of the tent, were chatting together, and smoking their cigars.
Doña Luz was singing one of those charming Creole songs, which are so full of sweet melody and expression.
All at once a red-tinted light appeared in the horizon, increasing every instant, and a dull continuous noise, like the growling of distant thunder, was heard.
"What is that?" the general cried, rising hastily.
"The prairie is on fire," the Babbler replied, quietly.
At this terrible announcement, made so quietly, the camp was all in confusion.
It was necessary to fly instantly, if they did not choose to run the risk of being burnt alive.
One of the Gambusinos, taking advantage of the disorder, glided away among the baggage, and disappeared in the plain, after exchanging a mysterious signal with the Babbler.
CHAPTER V.
THE COMANCHES
Loyal Heart and Belhumeur, concealed among the tufted branches of the cork tree, were observing the Comanches.
The Indians depended upon the vigilance of their sentinels. Far from suspecting that their enemies were so near them and were watching their motions, they crouched or lay around the fires, eating or smoking carelessly.
These savages, to the number of twenty-five, were dressed in their buffalo robes, and painted in the most varied and fantastic manner. Most of them had their faces covered with vermillion, others were entirely black, with a long white stripe upon each cheek; they wore their bucklers on their backs, with their bows and arrows, and near them lay their guns.
By the number of wolves' tails fastened to their moccasins, and which dragged on the ground behind them, it was easy to perceive that they were all picked warriors, renowned in their tribe.
At some paces from the group, Eagle Head leant motionless against a tree. With his arms crossed on his breast, and leaning gently forward, he seemed to be listening to vague sounds, perceptible to himself alone.
Eagle Head was an Osage Indian; the Comanches had adopted him when quite young, but he had always preserved the costume and manners of his nation.
He was, at most, twenty-eight years of age, nearly six feet high, and his large limbs, upon which enormous muscles developed themselves, denoted extraordinary strength.
Differing in this respect from his companions, he only wore a blanket fastened round his loins, so as to leave his bust and his arms bare. The expression of his countenance was handsome and noble; his black, animated eyes, close to his aquiline nose, and his somewhat large mouth, gave him a faint resemblance to a bird of prey. His hair was shaved off, with the exception of a ridge upon the middle of his head, which produced the effect of the crest of a helmet, and a long scalp lock, in which was fixed a bunch of eagle's feathers, hung down behind him.
His face was painted of four different colours – blue, white, black, and red; the wounds inflicted by him upon his enemies were marked in blue upon his naked breast. Moccasins of untanned deerskin came up above his knees, and numerous wolves' tails were fastened to his heels.
Fortunately for the hunters, the Indians were on the warpath, and had no dogs with them; but for this, they would have been discovered long before, and could not possibly have approached so near the camp.
In spite of his statue-like immobility, the eye of the chief sparkled, his nostrils expanded, and he lifted his right arm mechanically, as if to impose silence upon his warriors.
"We are scented," Loyal Heart murmured, in a voice so low that his companion could hardly hear it.
"What is to be done?" Belhumeur replied.
"Act," said the trapper, laconically.
Both then glided silently from branch to branch, from tree to tree, without touching the ground, till they reached the opposite side of the camp, just above the place where the horses of the Comanches were hobbled to graze.
Belhumeur descended softly, and cut the thongs that held them; and the horses, excited by the whips of the hunters, rushed out, neighing and kicking in all directions.
The Indians rose in disorder, and hastened, with loud cries, in pursuit of their horses.
Eagle Head alone, as if he had guessed the spot where his enemies were in ambush, directed his steps straight towards them, screening himself as much as possible behind the trees which he passed.
The hunters drew back, step by step, looking carefully round them, so as not to allow themselves to be encompassed.
The cries of the Indians grew fainter in the distance; they were all in eager pursuit of their horses.
The chief found himself alone in presence of his two enemies.
On arriving at a tree whose enormous trunk appeared to guarantee the desired safety, disdaining to use his gun, and the opportunity seeming favourable, he adjusted an arrow on his bowstring. But whatever might be his prudence and address, he could not make this movement without discovering himself a little. Loyal Heart raised his gun, the trigger was pressed, the ball whizzed, and the chief bounded into the air uttering a howl of rage, and fell upon the ground.
His arm was broken.
The two hunters were already by his side.
"Not a movement, redskin," Loyal Heart said to him; "not a movement, or you are a dead man!"
The Indian remained motionless, apparently stoical, but devouring his rage.
"I could kill you," the hunter continued; "but I am not willing to do so. This is the second time I have given you your life, chief, but it will be the last. Cross my path no more, and, remember, do not steal my traps again; if you do, I swear I will grant you no mercy."
"Eagle Head is a chief renowned among the men of his tribe," the Indian replied, haughtily; "he does not fear death; the white hunter may kill him, he will not hear him complain."
"No, I will not kill you, chief; my God forbids the shedding of human blood unnecessarily."
"Wah!" said the Indian, with an ironical smile, "my brother is a missionary."
"No, I am an honest trapper, and do not wish to be an assassin."
"My brother speaks the words of old women," the Indian continued; "Nehu mutah never pardons, he takes vengeance."
"You will do as you please, chief," the hunter replied, shrugging his shoulders contemptuously, "I have no intention of trying to change your nature; only remember you are warned – farewell!"
"And the devil admire you!" Belhumeur added, giving him a contemptuous shove with his foot.
The chief appeared insensible even to this fresh insult, save that his brows contracted slightly. He did not stir, but followed his enemies with an implacable look, while they, without troubling themselves further about him, plunged into the forest.
"You may say what you like, Loyal Heart," said Belhumeur, "but you are wrong, you ought to have killed him."
"Bah! what for?" the hunter asked, carelessly.
"Cascaras! what for? Why, there would have been one head of vermin the less in the prairie."
"Where there are so many," said the other, "one more or less cannot signify much."
"Humph! that's true!" Belhumeur replied, apparently convinced; "but where are we going now?"
"To look after our traps, caramba! do you think I will lose them?"
"Humph! that's a good thought."
The hunters advanced in the direction of the camp, but in the Indian fashion – that is to say, by making numberless turnings and windings intended to throw out the Comanches.
After progressing in this way for twenty minutes, they arrived at the camp. The Indians had not yet returned; but in all probability, it would not be long before they did so. All their baggage was scattered about. Two or three horses, which had not felt disposed to run away, were browsing quietly on the peavines.
Without losing time, the hunters set about collecting their traps, which was soon done. Each loaded himself with five, and, without further delay, they resumed the way to the cavern where they had concealed their horses.
Notwithstanding the tolerably heavy weight they carried on their shoulders, the two men marched lightly, much pleased at having so happily terminated their expedition, and laughing at the trick they had played the Indians.
They had gone on thus for some time, and could already hear the murmur of the distant waters of the river, when, all at once, the neighing of a horse struck their ears.
"We are pursued," said Loyal Heart, stopping.
"Hum!" Belhumeur remarked, "it is, perhaps, a wild horse."
"No; a wild horse does not neigh in that manner; it is the Comanches; but we can soon know," he added, as he threw himself down to listen, and placed his ear close to the ground.
"I was sure of it," he said, rising almost immediately; "it is the Comanches; but they are not following a full track – they are hesitating."
"Or perhaps their march is retarded by the wound of Eagle Head."
"That's possible! Oh, oh! do they fancy themselves capable of catching us, if we wished to escape from them?"
"Ah! if we were not loaded, that would soon be done."
Loyal Heart reflected a minute.
"Come," he said, "we have still half an hour, and that is more than we want."
A rivulet flowed at a short distance from them; the hunter entered its bed with his companion, who followed all his movements.
When he arrived in the middle of the stream, Loyal Heart carefully wrapped up the traps in a buffalo skin, that no moisture might come to them, and then he allowed them quietly to drop to the bottom of the stream.
This precaution taken, the hunters crossed the rivulet, and made a false trail of about two hundred paces, and afterwards returned cautiously so as not to leave a print that might betray their return. They then re-entered the forest, after having, with a gesture, sent the dogs to the horses. The intelligent animals obeyed, and soon disappeared in the darkness.
This resolution to send away the dogs was useful in assisting to throw the Indians off the track, for they could scarcely miss following the traces left by the bloodhounds in the high grass.
Once in the forest, the hunters again climbed up a tree, and began to advance between heaven and earth – a mode of travelling much more frequently used than is believed in Europe, in this country where it is often impossible, on account of the underwood and the trees, to advance without employing an axe to clear a passage.
It is possible, by thus passing from branch to branch, to travel leagues together without touching the ground.
It was exactly thus, only for another cause, that our hunters acted at this moment.
They advanced in this fashion before their enemies, who drew nearer and nearer, and they soon perceived them under them, marching in Indian file, that is to say, one behind another, and following their track attentively.
Eagle Head came first, half lying upon his horse, on account of his wound, but more animated than ever in pursuit of his enemies.
When the Comanches passed them, the two trappers gathered themselves up among the leaves, holding their breath. The most trifling circumstance would have sufficed to proclaim their presence. The Indians passed without seeing them. The hunters resumed their leafy march.
"Ouf!" said Belhumeur, at the end of a minute. "I think we have got rid of them this time!"
"Do not cry before you are out of the wood, but let us get on as fast as we can; these demons of redskins are cunning, they will not long be the dupes of our stratagem."
"Sacrebleu!" the Canadian suddenly exclaimed, "I have let my knife fall, I don't know where; if these devils find it, we are lost."
"Most likely," Loyal Heart murmured; "the greater reason then for not losing a single minute."
In the meantime, the forest, which till then had been calm, began all at once to grow excited, the birds flew about uttering cries of terror, and in the thick underwood they could hear the dry branches crack under the hurried footfalls of the wild animals.
"What's going on now?" said Loyal Heart, stopping, and looking round him with uneasiness; "the forest appears to be turned topsy-turvey!"
The hunters sprang up to the top of the tree in which they were, and which happened to be one of the loftiest in the forest.
An immense light tinged the horizon at about a league from the spot where they were; this light increased every minute, and advanced towards them with giant strides.
"Curses on them!" cried Belhumeur, "the Comanches have fired the prairie!"
"Yes, and I believe this time that, as you said just now, we are lost," Loyal Heart replied coolly.
"What's to be done?" said the Canadian, "in an instant we shall be surrounded."
Loyal Heart reflected seriously.
At the end of a few seconds he raised his head, and a smile of triumph curled the corners of his mouth.
"They have not got us yet," he replied; "follow me, my brother;" and he added in a low voice, "I must see my mother again!"
CHAPTER VI.
THE PRESERVER
In order to make the reader comprehend the position of the hunters, it is necessary to return to the Comanche chief.
Scarce had his enemies disappeared among the trees, ere Eagle Head raised himself softly up, bent his body forward, and listened to ascertain if they were really departing. As soon as he had acquired that certainty, he tore off a morsel of his blanket with which he wrapped up his arm as well as he could, and, in spite of the weakness produced by loss of blood and the pain he suffered, he set off resolutely on the trail of the hunters.
He accompanied them, thus himself unseen, to the limits of the camp. There, concealed behind an ebony tree, he witnessed, without being able to prevent it, though boiling with rage, the search made by the hunters for their traps, and, at length, their departure after recovering them.
Although the bloodhounds which the hunters had with them were excellent dogs, trained to scent an Indian from a distance, by a providential chance, which probably saved the life of the Comanche chief, they had fallen upon the remains of the repast of the redskins, and their masters, not dreaming that they were watched, did not think of commanding their vigilance.
The Comanches at length regained their camp, after having, with infinite difficulty, succeeded in catching their horses.
The sight of their wounded chief caused them great surprise, and still greater anger, of which Eagle Head took advantage to send them all off again in pursuit of the hunters, who, retarded by the traps they carried, could not be far off, and must inevitably fall speedily into their hands.
They had been but for an instant the dupes of the stratagem invented by Loyal Heart, and had not been long in recognising, on the first trees of the forest unequivocal traces of the passage of their enemies.
At this moment, Eagle Head, ashamed of being thus held in check by two determined men, whose cunning, superior to his own, deceived all his calculations, resolved to put an end to them at once, by carrying into execution the diabolical project of setting fire to the forest; a means which, according to the manner in which he meant to employ it, must, he did not doubt, at length deliver his formidable adversaries up to him.
In consequence, dispersing his warriors in various directions, so as to form a vast circle, he ordered the high grass to be set on fire in various places simultaneously.
The idea, though barbarous and worthy of the savage warriors who employed it, was a good one. The hunters, after having vainly endeavoured to escape from the network of flame which encompassed them on all sides, would be obliged, in spite of themselves, if they did not prefer being burnt alive, to surrender quietly to their ferocious enemies.
Eagle Head had calculated and foreseen everything, except the most easy and most simple thing, the only chance of safety that would be left to Loyal Heart and his companions.
As we have said, at the command of their chief the warriors had dispersed, and had lighted the conflagration at several points simultaneously.
At this advanced season of the year, the plants and grass, parched by the incandescent rays of the summer's sun, were immediately in a blaze, and the fire extended in all directions with frightful rapidity.