Gustave Aimard
Stoneheart: A Romance
Thus when, on being aroused, the immediate attack of the Apaches was made known to them, they manned the barriers confidently, with eyes and ears on the watch, ready to give fire at the first signal.
One hour passed over without any occurrence to break the stillness of the night. The Mexicans began to imagine that they had been summoned to the walls by a false alarm, as had already happened on several occasions, when suddenly the hoarse and ominous scream of the urubu arose.
Again it broke through the silence, and a cold shudder ran through the frames of the besieged, who recognised their death cry, and knew how little chance of escape existed.
A third time the scream of the urubu arose, louder and hoarser than before. Ere it was well ended, the dreadful war whoop broke forth on all sides, and the Indians threw themselves in swarms on the exterior defences, and attempted to carry them by escalade. The Mexicans received them firmly, like men who knew their last hour was come, and were resolved to fall amidst a hecatomb of foes. The Indians fell back in dismay, astounded at the vigorous resistance. Their measures had been taken so secretly, that they felt certain of surprising the town. As soon as they were in the open, showers of grape swept them down, and scattered death and disorder among their masses.
Don Estevan, profiting by the panic, threw himself, at the head of his vaqueros, on the thunderstricken redskins, and cut them down indiscriminately. Twice he renewed the charge with the courage of a lion, and twice the Indians recoiled before him.
As long as the darkness lasted, the Apaches could not perceive the smallness of the force opposed to them, and the combat was greatly favourable to the palefaces, who, sheltered behind the barricades, kept up a deadly fire on the dense masses of the enemy.
But after about two hours of this obstinate resistance the sun rose, and lighted up the field of battle with the glorious splendour of his rays. The Indians hailed his appearance with clamorous shouts, and precipitated themselves with renewed fury on the intrenchments from which they had just been driven. Their shock was irresistible.
The whites, after an amount of resistance determined on beforehand, abandoned a position they could no longer hold. The Indians, at the top of their speed, rushed in pursuit. But at that moment a frightful explosion was heard, the ground burst under their feet, and the mangled wretches, hurled into the air, were cast in all directions.
The interior of the defences had been undermined, and the major had just issued the order to fire the train. The effects of the explosion were horrible. The panic-stricken redskins began to fly on all sides, and, yielding to the impulse of their terror, were deaf to the orders of their sachems, and refused to renew the fight.
For a moment the palefaces thought themselves saved. But the Tigercat, mounted on a magnificent jet black mustang, and unfolding to the breeze the sacred totem of the allied tribes, rushed to the front, braving in his single person the shots the Mexicans aimed at him, and cried in a terrible voice: "Cowards! As you will not conquer, see how a brave man can die!"
His voice conveyed the bitterest reproach to the ears of the redskins; the most cowardly were ashamed to abandon the chief who was thus generously sacrificing himself; they faced about, and returned to the assault with redoubled ardour.
The Tigercat seemed invulnerable. He made his horse bound into the thickest of the fight, parrying the blows aimed at him with the staff of the totem, which he held displayed above his head to encourage his men.
The Apaches, electrified by the audacity of their great chief, crowded around him, undismayed even in death, and shouted:
"The Tigercat! The Tigercat! Let us die for the great chief!"
"Look there!" cried he enthusiastically, pointing to the morning star; "Look there! Your Father is smiling upon your deeds! Forwards! Forwards!"
"Forwards!" repeated the redskins, advancing with fresh fury.
But the major knew this horrible struggle could not last much longer. The redskins had carried all the barricades; the town swarmed with them. The Mexicans disputed it house by house, only leaving one to throw themselves into another when dislodged by main force. The redskins formed into a solid mass, led by Don Torribio, charged up the steep street leading to the old presidio and the fort which commands it. In spite of the ravages caused in their ranks by the grape from the guns of the fort, they advanced without wavering; for they saw, after each of the discharges which showered death amongst them, the Tigercat ten paces in advance, bestriding his black charger, and brandishing the totem, with Don Torribio at his side waving his sword.
"Come," said the major gravely to Don Estevan; "the time has arrived to execute the orders I gave you."
"You insist upon them, major?" replied the latter.
"I do Estevan."
"Enough, major; they shall not say I disobeyed your last orders. Farewell! Or rather, may we soon meet in heaven; for I shall fall as well as you."
"¿Quién sabe? Farewell, farewell!"
"Let us still hope," answered the mayor domo in a stifled voice.
The two men silently clasped each other's hands in a final pressure; for they knew that, without a miracle, they should never meet again.
After this leave-taking, Don Estevan collected some forty horsemen, formed them into a compact body, and, in the interval between two volleys from the fort, threw himself at full speed on the advancing redskins. The Apaches could not resist the impetuosity of the charge, and fled into the houses on either hand. When they recovered from their panic, the horsemen who had so rudely handled them had got on board two large boats, and were rowing swiftly towards the Hacienda de las Norias. Don Estevan and the whole of his followers were saved, with the exception of three or four who fell in the charge. The major had profited by the diversion to throw himself, with the remaining whites, into the fort, the gates of which were instantly closed behind him. Don Torribio ordered the redskins to halt, and advanced alone to the fortress.
"Major," cried he in a loud voice, "surrender! The lives of yourself and the garrison shall be respected."
"You are a traitor, a coward, and a dog!" replied the major, appearing on the walls. "You murdered my friend, who trusted to your loyalty. No surrender!"
"It is death to you and all with you; for the sake of humanity, surrender! Defence is impossible."
"You are a coward!" cried the major again; "here is my answer."
"Back, all of you! Back!" shouted the Tigercat, driving both spurs into his horse, which bounded into the air, and flew off with the speed of an arrow.
The Indians precipitated themselves from the top to the base of the rampart, seized with an indescribable panic; but not speedily enough to avoid the fate that threatened them. The major had fired the magazines in the fort. A terrific explosion ensued. The gigantic edifice oscillated for a second or two on its foundations, like a tottering mastodon; then, suddenly torn from the ground, rose into the air, and burst like an elephantine shell. Amidst the last cries of "Long live the Republic!" from the besieged, a storm of stones and bodies, horribly mutilated, hailed down upon the redskins, aghast at the horrible catastrophe – and all was over, the Tigercat was master of the Presidio de San Lucar; but, as Major Barnum had sworn, he was only in possession of a pile of ruins.
With tears of rage, Don Torribio planted the totem of the Apaches on a strip of tottering wall – the sole remnant to mark the spot where, ten minutes ago, rose the magnificent fort of San Lucar.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE CATASTROPHE
Several days had elapsed since the fall of the presidio of San Lucar. The pueblo had been given up to pillage, with refinements of barbarity impossible to describe. Only the principal buildings had been spared, thanks to the measures employed by the Tigercat, who to save the immense treasures they contained, had allotted them to the most powerful sachems of the tribes who followed him.
The old freebooter had established his headquarters in the former dwelling of Don Torribio Quiroga, which the latter had gracefully ceded to him. Doña Hermosa and her father had resumed possession of their own mansion.
The town, with none but Indians for inhabitants, had a mournful aspect: no more commerce; no more cheerful songs; nothing left of the careless spirit of gaiety which formerly animated the Mexican colony. Here and there in the open streets lay corpses, battled for by the birds of prey, festering, and infecting the atmosphere. In a word, the whole scene afforded the spectacle of that desolation which accompanies a war of extermination between two races who have been foes for centuries.
About a week after the events we have described in the preceding chapter, three persons were assembled, about ten o'clock in the morning, in a room in Don Pedro de Luna's house, and were talking in low tones. These three persons were, Don Pedro himself, Doña Hermosa, and the worthy capataz Luciano Pedralva, who, huddled up in the fantastical costume of a vaquero, looked like a monstrous robber, exciting bursts of laughter from Ña Manuela, who was seated, on the watch, at a window. Every time she looked at him, she broke into a fresh laugh, to the indignation of the capataz, who voted his disguise at the devil.
"Well as we have agreed," said Don Pedro, "you must put on your pumps, Luciano, and prepare for the dance."
"And it is to take place today?"
"It must, my good friend. It seems to me that we live in singular times, and in a very singular country. I have seen many revolutions, but this beats them all."
"As for me," said Doña Hermosa, "it seems consistent enough from an Indian point of view."
"Very possible, my dear. I am not going to enter into a discussion with you; but you must confess that a month ago we were far from expecting such a prompt re-establishment of the Apache power on these frontiers."
"You know, Don Pedro, I understand none of these matters; only it appears to me that the Tigercat is not very magnanimous for a man about to become a sovereign."
"What do you mean by that, Luciano?"
"I mean what everyone ought to mean. The letter he sent Don Fernando the day before yesterday is explicit enough; for in it he tells him, shortly and sharply, that if he is found in the colony five days after its receipt, he will have him hanged."
"If he can catch him!" said Doña Hermosa hastily.
"That is understood," replied the capataz.
"What is there in that to astonish you, Luciano?" said Don Pedro. "By Heavens! What extraordinary things I have witnessed in my life! I myself know a score of people to whom the same threats have been made, and who are yet alive and well."
"It is all one; but, in spite of that, I do not like it."
"But this is all foreign to our matter. You will return to the hacienda, Don Luciano; and remember my advice."
"Trust to me, señor. But I have something else to say."
"Say what you will, my good friend; but lose no time."
"I am dreadfully anxious about Don Estevan," replied the capataz, in a voice so low that it could not reach Ña Manuela's ears; "for six days he has disappeared, and we hear no tidings of him."
Doña Hermosa smiled slyly. "Estevan is not the man to lose himself without leaving a trail," said she. "Tranquilize yourself: at the proper time you will see him again."
"So much the better, señorita; for he is a man to be relied on."
"Don Torribio!" suddenly exclaimed Manuela.
"Indeed!" said the capataz; "Then it is time for me to vanish."
"Follow me quickly;" cried the mayor domo's mother.
The capataz bent reverently before Doña Hermosa and Don Pedro, and left the room with Manuela.
The door by which they went out had hardly closed upon them, when another opened, and Don Torribio entered. He wore a superb Indian dress; his forehead was lined with care, and his looks were sad. He bowed to Doña Hermosa, cordially grasped the hand of Don Pedro, and took his seat at a mute sign from the lady.
After the interchange of a few common-place words, the daughter of the hacendero, whom Don Torribio's downcast demeanour disquieted more than she liked to evince, turned gracefully towards him, and said, with an assumption of interest which was admirably acted:
"What ails you, Don Torribio? You look sad. What bad news have you received?"
"None, señorita; though I thank you for the interest you take in my affairs. Were I ambitious, I should feel content; for all my aspirations have been realised. In receiving your hand, a few days hence, the dream of my whole life will be fulfilled. You see, señorita," he added, with a mournful smile, "that I allow you to peer into the depths of my heart."
"I am thankful for what you say; but, Don Torribio, you were not thus a few days ago. Something must have – "
"Nothing personal, I assure you. But the nearer the time comes for the ceremony of taking possession of the territories we have won back, the greater discouragement masters me. I can by no means approve the determination of the Tigercat to have himself officially declared an independent sovereign; it is a folly I cannot comprehend. The Tigercat knows better than any one how impossible it is to maintain himself here. The Apaches, brave as they are, will never be able to hold their own against the disciplined force the Mexican Government will despatch against us, as soon as they hear of this outbreak."
"Is it impossible to induce the Tigercat to change his purpose?"
"It is. I have tried every means to show him the insanity of his project. He will listen to nothing. The man has an object in view known to himself alone; the wish he loudly proclaims – to regenerate the race of redskins – is a mere pretext."
"You shock me, Don Torribio! If this is the case, why not give him up?"
"Can I do so? Am I not already a renegade? Shall I confess to you, señorita? Although every thing seems prosperous, – although the future seems to have nothing but smiles for me, – yet, for the last few days, an invincible despondency has crept over me. Everything looks dark, and I feel world worn. In a word, I have a foreboding that I am on the eve of a terrible misfortune."
Doña Hermosa cast a piercing glance at him, which he did not observe. "Banish these mournful thoughts," said she, with emphasis; "henceforth your fate is settled; nothing can alter it."
"I believe so; but, you know, señorita, mischance may come between the cup and the lip."
"Come, come, Don Torribio!" said Don Pedro gaily; "Let us to breakfast. It is the last repast you will share with us before the ceremony of taking possession. Is it still to be today?"
"It is!" replied Don Torribio, offering his hand to Doña Hermosa, to lead her into another room, where a splendid meal was prepared.
At first they were very silent; the guests seemed ill at ease; but by degrees the efforts of Doña Hermosa and her father to cheer Don Torribio succeeded in breaking the ice, and the conversation became more lively. Yet it was easily seen that Don Torribio had a hard struggle to repel the thoughts that rose to his lips, and to condemn them to silence.
Towards the close of the repast, the chief turned to Doña Hermosa.
"Señorita," he said, "tonight my future will be settled. In taking part, as an Indian chief, in the ceremony of today, I shall throw down the gauntlet to my countrymen, by giving them to understand that I openly join the cause of the redskins; and that what they at first supposed to be an Indian raid grew, thanks to the Tigercat and me, into the rising of a whole nation. I know the pride of the whites! Unable to utilise the immense territories they possess, they will still never leave us in peaceful enjoyment of the heritage we have carved out for ourselves at the point of our lances. The Mexican Government will wage a war of destruction upon us. Can I depend upon you?"
"Before answering, Don Torribio, I must demand a clearer explanation."
"And you shall have it. Reprisals are what the Spaniards most dread in an Indian insurrection; that is to say, a massacre of the whites. My carriage with a Mexican would be a gage of peace from us to them – a pledge for the future security of their commerce, and the observance of the relations to be established between us. Our path is marked out, however the chiefs of the tribes may object. Neither the Tigercat nor I will deviate from it a hair's breadth. Señorita, I address this frank and loyal question to you: Will you grant me your hand?"
"Why should you press so grave a matter at such a moment, Don Torribio?" was her answer "Are you not sure of me?"
Don Torribio Quiroga frowned. "Always the same reply," he said. "Child, you are playing with the lion! If I had not been your shield these ten days past, you would have been slain ere now. Do you fancy me ignorant of your petty machinations, or ensnared by your childish calculations? You are playing for life or death, silly one; you are caught yourself in the net you spread for me. You are in my power! It is for me to dictate my conditions. Tomorrow you will espouse me; the heads of your father and of Don Fernando shall answer for your compliance!" Seizing a crystal vase of water, he filled his glass, and emptied it at a draught; while Doña Hermosa gazed at him with a strange expression in her eyes. "In an hour," said he, dashing the glass to pieces on the table, "you will attend the ceremony. You shall be beside me. I will it so!"
"I will be there!" she said quietly.
"Farewell!" he exclaimed, in a husky voice; and, casting another glance at her, he left the room. The girl rose hastily, seized the vase, and emptied its contents, murmuring: "Don Torribio! Don Torribio! thou hast thyself told me, that between cup and lip stood death!"
"Now for the finishing stroke!" said Don Pedro
At a sign from his daughter, he went out upon the terrace, and placed two stands, filled with flowers, close to the balustrade. This appeared to be a signal; for they had hardly been moved a minute, when Manuela hastily entered the room, saying, "He is here!"
"Let him come!" said Don Pedro and his daughter.
Don Estevan made his appearance.
The hacendero, having charged Manuela to be on the watch, carefully closed the doors, seated himself close to the mayor domo, and said in a whisper, "What news have you brought, Estevan?"
The grand square of the pueblo presented an unusual spectacle that day; a large stage, covered with a crimson velvet carpet, had been erected in the centre. On the stage stood a mahogany butaca; another armchair, lower and less decorated, was placed on the right, and several forms were arranged in a semicircle behind the two seats.
At twelve o'clock precisely, when the sun at its zenith was pouring down its vertical rays, five shots, fired from a gun at regular intervals, thundered through the pueblo. Instantly the different Apache tribes, constituting the Tigercat's army, debouched by the several approaches to the square, headed by the principal sachems in their robes of ceremony.
These warriors were few in number, forming an effective force of fifteen hundred men; for, according to Indian custom, the booty, immediately after the fall of the presidio, had been sent under a strong escort to the villages, and the greater number of the redskins had dispersed, to return to their atepelts. Those who stayed behind were tried and faithful braves, devoted heart and soul to the Tigercat. The latter, after the total defeat of the Mexicans, deemed it useless to retain a larger force about him, particularly as the first signal would bring back the others to his standard.
As fast as the tribes reached the square, they ranged themselves in good order on three of its sides, leaving the fourth open, which was presently occupied by a body of two hundred vaqueros, who, like the redskins, halted motionless on the spot assigned to them – with this difference: that the Indians were on foot, and without arms, except the machetes at their girdles; while the vaqueros were mounted, and armed to the teeth.
A very few lookers-on, English, French, or Germans, who had remained in the town after its occupation, showed their pale and frightened faces at the windows of the houses in the square. Indian women, huddled together in disorder behind the warriors, stretched their heads inquisitively over the shoulders of the latter, in order to catch a glimpse of the proceedings. The centre of the square remained void.
In front of the stage, and at the foot of a rude altar, shaped like a table, with a deep groove in it, and surmounted by an image of the sun, stood the great amantzin of the Apaches, surrounded by five sorcerers of inferior grade. All had their arms crossed on their breasts, and their eyes cast on the ground.
When everyone had fallen into his place, five more guns were fired. Then a brilliant cavalcade came curveting into the square. At its head rode the Tigercat, with haughty air and fiery eye, holding in his hand the totem, and having on his right Don Torribio, who carried the sacred calumet. Behind followed Don Pedro, his daughter, and several of the principal townspeople.
The Tigercat dismounted, ascended the stage, and placed himself in front of the principal seat, but did not sit down. Don Torribio, having assisted Doña Hermosa from her horse, took his place before the second chair. The features of the former, usually so pale, were now inflamed, and his hollow eyes seemed red with incessant vigils. He ceaselessly wiped the moisture from his brow, and appeared a prey to agitating emotions, which would break forth in spite of his efforts to control them.
Doña Hermosa had placed herself behind her father, at a short distance from the stage. She, too, seemed to suffer from secret agitation. She was pale, her lips were contracted, and occasionally a nervous tremor made her limbs tremble, and a feverish flush passed over her face, which, however, soon resumed its former pallor. She kept her eyes resolutely fixed on Don Torribio.
The Apache sachems grouped themselves at the foot of the platform, which they surrounded completely.
A third time the cannon roared. Then the sorcerers stepped to one side, disclosing to the view a man firmly bound, who lay on the ground in the midst of them.
The amantzin addressed the multitude: "Listen to me, all you who hear me. You know why we are here assembled: our great father, the Sun, has smiled at our success. The Wacondah has fought on our side, according to the promise of our illustrious chief. This atepelt is now ours. The chief elected by ourselves to command and defend us is the Tigercat. In his name and our own we now offer to the Master of life the sacrifice most agreeable to him, in order that he may still continue his almighty protection. Sorcerers, bring hither the victim!"
The amantzins seized the unhappy wretch they guarded, and laid him upon the altar. He was a Mexican, taken prisoner at the capture of the old presidio. The pulquero, in whose house one of the first scenes of this story was laid, had, from avarice, refused to quit his miserable pulquería, and had fallen into the hands of the redskins.
In the meantime, Don Torribio felt his strength gradually deserting him. His eyes grew more bloodshot, his ears were stunned, his temples throbbed violently, and he was obliged to support himself by one of the arms of his seat.
"What ails you?" said Doña Hermosa.
"I know not," he replied; "the heat – agitation, perhaps: I am choking. But it is nothing."
The pulquero, extended on the altar, had been stripped of his garments. The wretch uttered shouts of terror. The amantzin approached him, brandishing his knife.
"It is horrible," cried Doña Hermosa, hiding her face in her hands.
"Silence!" said Don Torribio; "the sacrifice must be completed."
The sorcerer, heedless of the cries of the victim coolly examined him to find the right place for the blow; while the miserable prisoner, with eyes unnaturally distended, gazed at him with an expression of fear impossible to describe. Suddenly the amantzin raised the knife, and, thrusting it into the chest of his victim, laid it open the whole length of the ribs. The wretched man uttered a horrible cry. Then the sorcerer plunged his hand into the gaping breast of the victim, and tore out the palpitating heart; while his assistants carefully collected the blood that was flowing in torrents. The sufferer writhed in agony, still making superhuman efforts to break his bonds.
While this was doing, the sachems in a body ascended the stage, and seating the Tigercat on the butaca, raised him on their shoulders, shouting enthusiastically "Long live the conqueror of the palefaces, the great sachem of the Apaches!"
The sorcerers meanwhile sprinkled the crowd with the blood of the sacrifice; and the redskins, frenzied with excitement, rent the air with deafening clamour.
"At last," said the Tigercat proudly, "I have kept my promise: I have driven the palefaces from this country for ever."
"Not yet," exclaimed Don Pedro, in cutting tones; "look hither."
A sudden change had indeed come over the scene. The vaqueros, up to this time impassive spectators, suddenly charged, the unarmed Indians: Mexican troops fell upon them from all the entrances to the square: and all the windows were manned by whites armed with muskets, who poured down a pitiless fire on the redskins.
In the centre of the square were Don Fernando Carril, Luciano Pedralva, and Don Estevan, who mercilessly rode in upon the Indians, shouting: "Down with them! Down with them! Slay! Slay!"
"¡Caray!" exclaimed Don Torribio, waving the totem; "What horrible treachery is this?" He rushed forward to fly to the side of the redskins; but he tottered – a dark veil obstructed his sight – and he sank on his knees. "God!" cried he, "What has happened to me?"
"You are dying," whispered Don Estevan in his ear; "that is what is happening." And he seized him fiercely by the arm.
"You lie, dog!" said Don Torribio, trying to release himself. "I will go and help my brothers."
"Your brothers are slain, as you intended to have slain tomorrow Don Pedro, Doña Hermosa, Don Fernando, and myself. Die, wretch, with rage at seeing your treachery meet its reward! I have given you leche de palio4 to drink; you are poisoned."
"Ah!" said he despairingly, and dragging himself on his knees to the edge of the platform; "Woe to me; woe; God is just."
In the square the Mexicans were making a horrible carnage. "Remember Don José de Kalbris," they cried; "revenge Major Barnum!"
It was no battle; it was a fearful butchery. Several of the chiefs, flying before Don Fernando, Luciano, and Don Estevan, threw themselves upon the stage as a last place of refuge.
"Ha!" shouted Don Torribio, with a bound like a jaguar, seizing Don Fernando by the throat; "At least I shall not die unavenged." A moment of terrible anxiety ensued. "No," he continued, quitting his grasp on his foe, and falling backwards, "it would be the act of a coward. My life belongs to this man; he won it from me."
The bystanders could not repress a cry of admiration. Don Fernando coolly raised his rifle to his shoulder, and discharged its contents point-blank into the breast of the man stretched at his feet.
"Thus perish all traitors!" he cried.
"Great God!" freely exclaimed Don Torribio, by a supreme effort rising to his knees, and looking up to heaven with an expression of sublime hope irradiating his features, – "Great God, I thank Thee! Thou hast forgiven me!" One last smile of unutterable happiness glided over his face; he fell back and expired.
Meanwhile Doña Hermosa had disappeared. When the Tigercat, who had been fighting like a lion in the midst of the fray, perceived that all was lost, and nothing but flight could save him from the fate to which the Mexicans had doomed him, should he fall into their hands, he rallied around him a handful of his bravest warriors, seized Doña Hermosa, regardless of her cries and prayers, threw her across his saddle, spurred his horse into the thickest of the mêlée, cut his passage through, and, followed by his faithful braves, succeeded in getting out of the town and gaining the prairie.
It was too late for pursuit when the Mexicans became aware of his flight; the old freebooter was already beyond their reach, carrying his prey with him, like an eagle bearing a lamb in his talons.
