Gustave Aimard
Stronghand: or, The Noble Revenge

"I shall be too happy to be agreeable to you, my lady, if it be in my power."

"Permit me, in that case, to ask you a few questions."

"Pray do so."

"I wish to know what the camp is whose watch fires I perceive a short distance off."

"A hunter's bivouac."

"Only hunters?"

"Yes, they are all white hunters or trappers."

"I thank you, señor. Do you know these men?"

"Very well, considering I am a member of the band." Doña Marianna hesitated for a moment.

"Forgive me, sir," she continued, "I am in search of a hunter with whom grave reasons force me to desire an immediate interview; perhaps he is among your comrades."

"Do you know him personally, madam?"

"Yes, and am under great obligations to him. He is called Stronghand."

The trapper eagerly walked up to the young lady, and attentively examined her.

"You wish to have an immediate interview with Stronghand?"

"Yes, I repeat, señor, for reasons of the highest importance."

"In case you are Doña Marianna de Moguer."

"What!" she exclaimed, in surprise, "You know my name?"

"That needs not astonish you, madam," he said, with the most exquisite politeness; "I am the intimate friend of Stronghand. Without entering into any details that might justly offend you, my friend told me that you might perchance come and ask for him at our campfire."

"He knew it, then," she murmured, in a trembling voice; "but how did he learn it?"

Though these words were uttered in a whisper, Whistler heard them.

"He doubtless hoped it would be so, without daring to credit it, madam," he answered.

"Good heavens!" she continued, "What does this mean?"

"That my friend, in his eager desire to be agreeable to you, and foreseeing the chance of your coming during his absence, warned me, in order to spare you a very difficult search, and thus induce you to grant me a little of that confidence you deign to honour him with."

"I thank you, sir. Now that you know me, would it be taxing your courtesy too greatly to ask you to guide my companion and myself to your bivouac?"

"I am at your orders, madam, and believe me that you will receive a proper reception, even though my friend does not happen to be there at the moment."

"What!" she said, suddenly checking her horse, "Can he be absent?"

"Yes, but do not let that cause you any anxiety; he will soon return.

"Good heavens!" she murmured, clasping her hands in grief.

"Madam," Whistler again continued, "I understand that the reasons which urged you to undertake such a journey must be of the utmost importance; let me, therefore, go on ahead to the camp, and make all the preparations for your reception."

"But Stronghand, señor?"

"Warned through me, madam, he will be back by daybreak."

"You promise me that, señor."

"On my honour."

"Go, then, and may Heaven requite you for the goodwill and courtesy you show me."

Whistler bowed respectfully to the young lady, took his rifle under his arm, and soon disappeared in the forest.

"We can now go on without fear," said Mariano; "I know Whistler to be an honest, worthy fellow, and he will do what he has promised."

"Heaven grant I may see the man whom I have come so far to meet."

"You will see him, be assured; moreover, all precautions were taken in the event of your visit."

"Yes," she murmured, pausing; "and it is this which renders me alarmed. Well, I put my trust in the Virgin."

And flogging her horse, she went on her way, followed by the tigrero, who, according to his habit, could not at all comprehend this remark, after the desire the young lady had evinced to see the hunter.

CHAPTER XXX
THE HUNTER'S CAMP

It was no great distance to the bivouac, and the travellers reached it about half an hour after Whistler. Still, though this period was so short, the worthy Canadian had profited by it to erect for the young lady, who thanked him by a smile, a jacal of branches, under which she found a shelter as comfortable as desert life permits. The hunters' camp had a military look, which greatly perplexed Doña Marianna. Strong wooden palisades defended all the approaches; the horses, which were ready saddled, were fastened to pickets; several watch fires, lighted at regular distances, sufficiently illumined the plain to prevent the approach of an enemy, whether man or beast; and four sentinels, standing rifle in hand on the entrenchments, followed with a vigilant eye the slightest undulations of the lofty pass. Some thirty men, with harsh and irregular features, clothed after the fashion of wood rangers, in fur caps, cotton shirts, and leather calzoneras, were lying in front of the fires, rifle in hand, in order to be ready for the first alarm.

Orders had probably been given beforehand by Whistler, for the sentinels allowed the two travellers to pass unquestioned through a breach in the entrenchments, which was immediately closed after them again. The Canadian was awaiting them in front of the jacal; he helped Doña Marianna to dismount, and the horses were led to join the others, and supplied with a copious meal of alfalfa.

"You are welcome among us, señora," he said with a respectful bow; "in this jacal, which no one will enter save yourself, there is a bed of skins, on which you can take a few hours' rest while awaiting Stronghand's arrival."

"I thank you, señor, for this graceful attention, by which I cannot profit, however, till you have reiterated your promise."

"Señorita, two horsemen have already set out to fetch Stronghand, but I repeat, that he cannot be here for some hours; now, if you will accept the humble refreshment prepared for you – "

"I only require rest, señor; still I am not the less obliged to you for your offer. With your permission, I will retire."

"You are the mistress here, madam."

The young lady smiled, pressed her foster brother's hand, and entered the jacal. So soon as Doña Marianna had let fall after her the blanket which formed the doorway, the tigrero quietly removed his zarapé from his shoulders, and laid it on the ground.

"What is that for, comrade?" Whistler asked, astonished at the performance.

"You see, compadre, I am making my bed."

"Do you mean to sleep there?"

"Why not?"

"As you please; still, you will be cold, that is all."

"Nonsense! A night is soon spent, especially when so far advanced as this one is."

"I trust that you do not doubt us."

"No, Whistler, no; but Doña Marianna is my foster sister, and I am bound to watch over her."

"That care concerns me at the moment; so do not be at all alarmed."

"Two sentries are better than one; besides, you know me, do you not? Although I place the utmost confidence in you, I will not surrender the guardianship of my tocaya to another man; that is my idea, whether right or wrong, and I shall not give it up."

"As you please," the trapper said, with a laugh.

And he left him at liberty to make his arrangements as he pleased. The tigrero, though he knew most of the hunters, or, perhaps, because he knew them, did not wish to leave his foster sister unprotected among these reckless men, who, accustomed to the utter license of a desert life, might, under the influence of strong liquors, forget the sacred duties of hospitality, and insult Doña Marianna. In this the young man, in spite of his desert experience, was completely mistaken.

We have no intention to attempt the rehabilitation of these men, who, generally endowed with evil instincts, and who do not wish to yield to the demands of civilization, retire into the desert in order to live as they like, and seek liberty in license; still, we will mention in their honour, that a nomadic life, after a certain lapse of time, completely modifies their character, curbs their passions, and so subjects them that they gradually become purified by constant danger and privations, by getting rid of all that was bad in them, and retaining beneath their rough bark and coarse manners principles of honesty and devotion of which they would have been considered incapable at an earlier period. What we say here is scrupulously true of about two-thirds at least of the bold pioneers who traverse in all directions the vast savannahs of the New World; the others are incorrigible, and within a given time end by becoming real bandits, and carry their contingent of crime to those formidable bands of pirates of the prairies, who ambush like hideous birds of prey to await the passage of caravans, and plunder and massacre the travellers.

But, whether good or bad, the dwellers on the prairie – no matter if whites, half-breeds, or Redskins, trappers, pirates, or Indians – have one virtue in common, and whose duties they carry out with remarkable punctuality and generosity, and that is hospitality. A traveller surprised by night, and wearied by a long journey, may, if he see a campfire in the huts of an Indian village, present himself without fear, and claim hospitality. From that moment he is sacred to the men he applies to, no matter if they be Indians, bravos, hunters, or even pirates. These individuals, who would not have scrupled to assassinate him by the side of a ditch, treat him like a brother, show him the most delicate attentions, and will never make any insulting allusions to the length of his stay among them; on the contrary, he is at liberty to remain as long as he pleases, and when he takes leave his hosts say good-bye regretfully. At the same time it is true that, if they meet him a week after in the forest, they will kill him without mercy to raise his hair and take his weapons; but this need only be apprehended with the pirates and some Indian tribes of the far west. As for the hunters, when a stranger has once slept by their side and shared their food, he is for ever sacred to them.

The tigrero, therefore, was completely mistaken when he feared lest Doña Marianna might be insulted by these men, who, although coarse, were honest and loyal in the main; and who, flattered by the confidence this lovely, innocent girl placed in them, would, on the contrary, have gladly defended her had it been necessary.

Whistler went off with a laugh, and lay down by the side of his comrades. As we have already said, the night was far advanced when Doña Marianna and her travelling companion reached the camp of the hunters; a few hours at the most separated them from sunrise: and the young lady, who at first resolved to spend these hours awake, overcome by fatigue, had yielded to sleep, and enjoyed a calm and refreshing rest. So soon as day began to appear, Doña Marianna repaired as well as she could the disorder produced in her dress by her lengthened journey, rose and went to the door of the jacal. The camp was still plunged in the deepest silence: with the exceptions of the sentries still on the watch, the hunters were fast asleep.

The dawn was just breaking, and striping the horizon with wide vermillion bands; the sharp and rather cold morning breeze rustled softly through the branches; the flowers that enamelled the prairie raised themselves, and expanded the corollas to receive the first sunbeams; the numberless streams, whose silvery waters made their way through the tall grass, murmured over the white and grey pebbles as they bore their tribute to the Rio Bravo del Norte, whose capricious windings could be guessed in the distance, owing to the thick cloud of vapour that constantly rose from it and brooded over its bed. The birds, still hidden beneath the foliage, were timidly preluding their harmonious concert; the glad earth, the bright sky, the serene atmosphere, the pure light – all, in a word, revealed that the day which had now entirely appeared was about to be tranquil and lovely.

The maiden, refreshed by the rest she had enjoyed, felt herself newborn as she breathed the first exhalations of the flowers and the sharp odour which is found in the desert alone. Without venturing to quit the jacal, in front of which the tigrero was lying, she surveyed the surrounding landscape, which, thanks to the elevation she stood at, lay expanded at her feet for a long distance. The profound calmness of reawakening nature, the powerful harmonies of the desert, filled the maiden's heart with a gentle melancholy; she pensively indulged in those thoughts which the great spectacles of nature ever arouse in minds unaffected by human passions. In the meanwhile the sun ascended the horizon, and the last shadows melted away in the dazzling beams propelled by the daystar. Suddenly the girl uttered an exclamation of delight, for she noticed a band of horsemen fording the stream, and apparently coming in the direction of the hill. At the cry his foster sister uttered, the tigrero bounded to his feet and stood by her side, rifle in hand, ready to defend her if necessary.

"Good morning, tocayo," she said to him.

"Heaven keep you, niña!" he replied, with a shade of anxiety. "Have you slept well?"

"I could not have done so better, Mariano."

"All right then; but why did you utter that cry?"

"I cried out, my friend, and scarce know why."

"Ah, yes – stay; look at those horsemen coming up at full speed."

"Caray! How they gallop! They will be here within half an hour."

"Do you think that Stronghand is among them?"

"I suppose so, niña."

"And I am sure of it," said Whistler, with a respectful bow to the young lady; "I have recognised him, señorita; so will you allow that I have kept my promise?"

"Most fully, señor; and I know not how to express my thanks for the hearty hospitality you have given me."

"I have no claim to any thanks from you, señorita, as I have only carried out my friend's intention; niña, it is to him alone you should offer thanks, if you consider that you ought to make them."

In the meanwhile the camp was aroused; the hunters were yawning, and turned to their daily avocations; some led their horses to the watering place, others kindled the fires; some cut the wood requisite to keep them up, while two or three of the older men acted as cooks, and got breakfast ready for the party. The camp changed its appearance in a minute; it lived the nervous, agitated life of the desert, in which each man performs his task with the feverish speed of persons who are aware of the value of time, and do not wish to lose it. The young lady, at first surprised by the cries, laughter, and unaccustomed movement that prevailed around her, began to grow used to it, and eagerly watched the occupations of the men she had beneath her eyes. A sharp challenge of "Who goes there?" suddenly made her raise her head.

"A friend!" a voice she at once recognised answered from without.

Suddenly a band of horsemen entered the camp, at their head being Stronghand. The young man dismounted, and after exchanging a few words with Whistler, he went straight up to the maiden, who was standing motionless in the doorway of the jacal, and watching his approach with amazement. In fact, as we have said, Stronghand was not alone; several persons accompanied him, among them being Thunderbolt and Doña Esperanza; the rest were confidential Indian servants. When Stronghand came in front of the young lady, he bowed to her respectfully, and then turned to the persons who accompanied him.

"Permit me, señorita," he said to her, "to present to you my mother, Doña Esperanza, and my father; both love you, though they do not know you, and insisted on accompanying me."

The maiden, blushing with joy at this delicate attention on the part of the hunter, who thus placed their interview beneath the safeguard of his father and mother, replied with emotion – "I am delighted, señor, with this kind inspiration of your heart; it augments, were it possible, the confidence I have placed in you, and the gratitude I felt for the eminent services you have rendered me."

Doña Esperanza and the sachem embraced the girl, who, at once ashamed and joyous at the friendship of these persons, whose exterior was at once so imposing and so venerable, knew not how to respond to their caresses and the kindness they evinced to her. In the meanwhile the hunters had raised, with great skill and speed, a tent, under which the four persons were at once protected from the curious glances of the persons who surrounded them. Through that innate feeling of women, which makes them love or detest each other at the first glance, Doña Esperanza and the young lady at once felt attracted to each other by a natural movement of sympathy, and leaving the gentlemen to their occupations, they withdrew on one side, and began an animated and friendly conversation. Doña Marianna, subjugated by Doña Esperanza's seductive manner, and drawn toward her by a feeling of attraction for which she did not attempt to account, as she felt so happy with her, spoke to her open-heartedly; but then she was greatly surprised to see that this lady, whom she was bound to suppose an entire stranger, was perfectly acquainted with all that related to her family, and knew her father's affairs better than she did herself; her amazement increased when Doña Esperanza explained in the fullest details the reasons that occasioned her presence in the hunter's camp, and the precarious position to which the Marquis de Moguer was reduced.

"I could add many more surprising things, my dear girl," Doña Esperanza continued with a smile, "but I do not wish to fatigue you at present; sufficient for you to know that we really take an interest in your family, and that it will not be our fault if your father is not soon freed from all his cares."

"Oh, how good you are, madam!" the young lady exclaimed, warmly; "How can I have merited such lively interest on your part?"

"That must not trouble you at all, my dear girl; the step you have taken today to come to your father's assistance, and the confidence you have placed in my son, are for us proofs of the loftiness of your feelings and the purity of your heart. Although we are almost Indians," she added with a smile, "we have white blood enough in our veins to remember what we owe to persons of that race."

The conversation went on thus between the two ladies on a footing of frank friendliness, until the moment when Stronghand came to interrupt it, by stating that breakfast was ready, and that they were only waiting for them to sit down. The tigrero and the Canadian had both been invited to share the meal, but they declined the invitation under the pretext that they did not like to eat with persons so high above them in rank, but in reality, because the worthy wood rangers preferred breakfasting without ceremony. Stronghand did not press them, and allowed them to do as they pleased. Doña Marianna bit her lips in order to suppress a smile when the hunter informed her that they were about to sit down to table; for, owing to her recent journey and her life on the Indian border, the young lady was well aware that such meals were extremely simple, and eaten on the grass. Hence her surprise was at its height when, after passing into a separate compartment of the tent, she perceived a table laid with a luxury which would have been justly admired even in Mexico: nothing was wanting, even to massive plate and valuable crystal. The dishes, it is true, were simple, and merely consisted of venison and fruit; but all had a stamp of true grandeur, which it was impossible not to appreciate at the first glance. The contrast offered by this table, so elegantly and comfortably laid, was the greater, because, behind the canvas of the tent, desert life could be seen in all its simplicity.

The young lady seated herself between Thunderbolt and Doña Esperanza, Stronghand sat down opposite to her, and two menservants waited. In spite of the agreeable surprise which the impromptu comfort of this repast, prepared for her alone, caused her, the young lady did not at all display her surprise, but she ate heartily and gaily, thus thanking her hosts for the delicate attentions they showed her. When the dainties were placed on the table, and the meal was drawing to a close, Stronghand bowed to Doña Marianna.

"Señorita," he said, with a smile, "before we begin a serious conversation, which might, at this moment, appear to you untimely, be kind enough to permit my mother to tell us one of the charming Indian legends with which she generally enlivens the close of our meals."

Doña Marianna was at first surprised by this proposition, made, without any apparent motive, at the close of a lively conversation; but imagining that the hunter's remarks concealed a serious purpose, and that the legend, under its frivolous aspect, would entail valuable results for her, she answered with her sweetest smile – "I shall listen with the greatest pleasure to the narrative the señora is about to tell us, because my nurse, who is of Indian origin, was wont to lull me to sleep with these legends, which have left a deep and most agreeable impression on my mind."