Gustave Aimard
The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan War

"Dios y libertad."

"The supreme Military General commanding in the State of Texas,

"DON JOSE-MARIA RUBIO."

After reading this despatch carefully, the Captain raised his head and examined the soldier for an instant with the deepest and most earnest attention.

The latter, leaning on the hilt of his sword, was carelessly playing with his knot, and apparently paying no attention to what was going on around him.

"The order is positive," the Captain repeated several times, "and I must obey it, although everything tells me that this man is a traitor."

Then he added aloud —

"Are you well acquainted with this part of the country?"

"I was born here, Captain," the dragoon replied; "there is not a hidden track I did not traverse in my youth."

"You know that you are to serve as my guide?"

"His Excellency the General did me the honour of telling me so, Captain."

"And you feel certain of guiding us safe and sound to the spot where we are expected?"

"At least I will do all that is necessary."

"Good. Are you tired?"

"My horse is more so than I. If you would grant me another, I would be at your orders immediately, for I see that you are desirous of setting out."

"I am. Choose a horse."

The soldier did not let the order be repeated. Several remounts followed the escort, and he selected one of them, to which he transferred the saddle. In a few minutes he was mounted again.

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

"March," the Captain shouted, and added mentally, "I will not let this scoundrel out of sight during the march."

CHAPTER XXVII
THE GUIDE

Military law is inflexible – it has its rules, from which it never departs, and discipline allows of neither hesitation nor tergiversation; the oriental axiom, so much in favour at despotic courts, "to hear is to obey," is rigorously true from a military point of view. Still, however hard this may appear at the first blush, it must be so, for if the right of discussion were granted inferiors with reference to the orders their superiors gave them, all discipline would be destroyed; the soldiers henceforth only obeying their caprices, would grow ungovernable, and the army, instead of rendering the country the services which it has a right to expect from it, would speedily become a scourge.

These reflections, and many others, crossed the Captain's mind, while he thoughtfully followed the guide whom his General's despatch had so singularly forced on him; but the order was clear and peremptory, he was obliged to obey, and he did obey, although he felt convinced that the man to whom he was compelled to trust was unworthy of the confidence placed in him, if he were not an utter traitor.

As for the trooper, he galloped carelessly at the head of the caravan, smoking, laughing, singing, and not seeming to suspect the doubts entertained about him.

It is true that the Captain carefully kept secret the ill opinion he had formed of the guide, and ostensibly placed the utmost confidence in him: for prudence demanded that in the critical situation in which the conducta was placed, those who composed it should not suspect their Chief's anxiety, lest they might be demoralized by the fear of an impending, treachery.

The Captain, before starting, had given the most severe orders that the arms should be in a good state; he sent off scouts ahead, and on the flanks of the troops, to explore the neighbourhood, and be assured that the road was free, and no danger to be apprehended; in a word, he had taken most scrupulously all the measures prudence dictated, in order to guarantee the safety of the journey.

The guide, who was an impassive witness of all these precautions, on whose behalf they were taken with so much ostentation, appeared to approve of them, and even drew attention to the skill the border-ruffians have in gliding through bushes and grass without leaving traces, and the care the scouts must devote to the accomplishment of the mission entrusted to them.

The further the conducta advanced in the direction of the mountains, the more difficult and dangerous the march became; the trees, at first scattered over a large space, became imperceptibly closer, and at last formed a dense forest, through which, at certain spots, they were compelled to cut their way with the axe, owing to the masses of creepers intertwined in each other, and forming an inextricable tangle; then again, there were rather wide streams difficult of approach, which the horses and mules were obliged to ford in the midst of iguanas and alligators, having frequently the water up to their girths.

The immense dome of verdure under which the caravan painfully advanced, utterly hid the sky, and only allowed a few sunbeams to filter through the foliage, which was not sufficient entirely to dissipate the gloom which prevails almost constantly in the virgin forests, even at mid-day.

Europeans, who are only acquainted with the forests of the old world, cannot form even a remote idea of those immense oceans of verdure which in America are called virgin forests.

There the trees form a compact mass, for they are so entwined in each other, and fastened together by a network of lianas which wind round their stems and branches, plunging in the ground to rise again like the pipes of an immense organ, or forming capricious curves, as they rise and descend incessantly amid tufts of the parasite called Spanish beard, which falls from the ends of the branches of all the trees; the soil, covered with detritus of every sort, and humus formed of trees that have died of old age, is hidden beneath a thick grass several feet in height. The trees, nearly all of the same species, offer so little variety, that each of them seems only a repetition of the others.

These forests are crossed in all directions by paths formed centuries agone by the feet of wild beasts, and leading to their mysterious watering-places; here and there beneath the foliage are stagnant marshes, over which myriads of mosquitoes buzz, and from which dense vapours rise that fill the forest with gloom; reptiles and insects of all sorts crawl on the ground, while the cries of birds and the hoarse calls of the wild beasts form a formidable concert which the echoes of the lagoons repeat.

The most hardened wood-rangers enter in tremor the virgin forests, for it is almost impossible to find one's way with certainty, and it is far from safe to trust to the tracks which cross and are confounded; the hunters know by experience that once lost in one of these forests, unless a miracle supervene, they must perish within the walls formed by the tall grass and the curtain of lianas, without hope of being helped or saved by any living being of their own species.

It was a virgin forest the caravan entered at this moment.

The guide pushed on, without the least hesitation, appearing perfectly sure of the road he followed, contenting himself by giving at lengthened intervals a glance to the right or left, but not once checking the pace of his horse.

It was nearly mid-day; the heat was growing stifling, the horses and men, who had been on the march since four in the morning along almost impracticable roads, were exhausted with fatigue, and imperiously claimed a few hours' rest, which was indispensable before proceeding further.

The Captain resolved to let the troop camp in one of those vast clearings, so many of which are found in these parts, and are formed by the fall of trees overthrown by a hurricane, or dead of old age.

The command to halt was given. The soldiers and arrieros gave a sigh of relief, and stopped at once.

The Captain, whose eyes were accidentally fixed at this moment on the guide, saw a cloud of dissatisfaction on his brow; still, feeling he was watched, the man at once recovered himself, pretended to share the general joy, and dismounted.

The horses and mules were unsaddled, that they might browse freely on the young tree shoots and the grass that grew abundantly on the ground.

The soldiers enjoyed their frugal meal, and lay down on their zarapés to sleep.

Ere long, the individuals composing the caravan were slumbering, with the exception of two, the Captain and the guide.

Probably each of them was troubled by thoughts sufficiently serious to drive away sleep, and keep them awake, when all wanted to repose.

A few paces from the clearing, some monstrous iguanas were lying in the sun, wallowing in the grayish mud of a stream whose water ran with a slight murmur through the obstacles of every description that impeded its course. Myriads of insects filled the air with the continued buzzing of their wings; squirrels leaped gaily from branch to branch; the birds, hidden beneath the foliage, were singing cheerily, and here and there above the tall grass might be seen the elegant head and startled eyes of a deer or an ashata, which suddenly rushed beneath the covert with a low of terror.

But the two men were too much occupied with their thoughts to notice what was going on around them.

The Captain raised his head at the very moment when the guide had fixed on him a glance of strange meaning: confused at being thus taken unawares, he tried to deceive the officer by speaking to him – old-fashioned tactics, however, by which the latter was not duped.

"It is a hot day, Excellency," he said, with a nonchalant air.

"Yes," the Captain answered, laconically.

"Do you not feel any inclination for sleep?"

"No."

"For my part, I feel my eyelids extraordinarily heavy, and my eyes close against my will; with your permission I will follow the example of our comrades, and take a few moments of that refreshing sleep they seem to enjoy so greatly."

"One moment – I have something to say to you."

"Very good," he said, with an air of the utmost indifference.

He rose, stifling a sigh of regret, and seated himself by the Captain's side, who withdrew to make room for him under the protecting shadow of the large tree which stretched out above his head its giant arms, loaded with vines and Spanish beard.

"We are about to talk seriously," the Captain went on.

"As you please."

"Can you be frank?"

"What?" the soldier said, thrown off his guard by the suddenness of the question.

"Or, if you prefer it, can you be honest?"

"That depends."

The Captain looked at him.

"Will you answer my questions?"

"I do not know."

"What do you say?"

"Listen, Excellency," the guide said, with a simple look, "my mother, worthy woman that she was, always recommended me to distrust two sorts of people, borrowers and questioners, for she said, with considerable sense, the first attack your purse, the others your secrets."

"Then you have a secret?"

"Not the least in the world."

"Then what do you fear?"

"Not much, it is true. Well, question me, Excellency, and I will try to answer you."

The Mexican peasant, the Manzo or civilized Indian, has a good deal of the Norman peasant about him, in so far as it is impossible to obtain from him a positive answer to any question asked him. The Captain was compelled to be satisfied with the guide's half promise, so he went on: —

"Who are you?"

"I?"

"Yes, you."

The guide began laughing.

"You can see plainly enough," he said.

The Captain shook his head.

"I do not ask you what you appear to be, but what you really are."

"Why, señor, what man can answer for himself, and know positively who he is?"

"Listen, scoundrel," the Captain continued, in a menacing tone, "I do not mean to lose my time in following you through all the stories you may think proper to invent. Answer my questions plainly, or, if not – "

"If not?" the guide impudently interrupted him.

"I blow out your brains like a dog's!" he replied, as he drew a pistol from his belt, and hastily cocked it.

The soldier's eye flashed fire, but his features remained impassive, and not a muscle of his face stirred.

"Oh, oh, señor Captain," he said, in a sombre voice, "you have a singular way of questioning your friends."

"Who assures me that you are a friend? I do not know you."

"That is true, but you know the person who sent me to you; that person is your Chief as he is mine. I obeyed him by coming to find you, as you ought to obey him by following the orders he has given you."

"Yes, but those orders were sent me through you."

"What matter?"

"Who guarantees that the despatch you have brought me was really handed to you?"

"Caramba, Captain, what you say is anything but flattering to me," the guide replied with an offended look.

"I know it; unhappily we live at a time when it is so difficult to distinguish friends from foes, that I cannot take too many precautions to avoid falling into a snare; I am entrusted by Government with a very delicate mission, and must therefore behave with great reserve toward persons who are strangers to me."

"You are right, Captain; hence, in spite of the offensive nature of your suspicions, I will not feel affronted by what you say, for exceptional positions require exceptional measures. Still, I will strive by my conduct to prove to you how mistaken you are."

"I shall be glad if I am mistaken; but take care. If I perceive anything doubtful, either in your actions or your words, I shall not hesitate to blow out your brains. Now that you are warned, it is your place to act in accordance."

"Very good, Captain, I will run the risk. Whatever happens. I feel certain that my conscience will absolve me, for I shall have acted for the best."

This was said with an air of frankness which, in spite of his suspicions, had its effect on the Captain.

"We shall see," he said; "shall we soon get out of this infernal forest in which we now are?"

"We have only two hours' march left; at sunset we shall join the persons who are awaiting us."

"May Heaven grant it!" the Captain muttered.

"Amen!" the soldier said boldly.

"Still, as you have not thought proper to answer any of the questions I asked you, you must not feel offended if I do not let you out of sight from this moment, and keep you by my side when we start again."

"You can do as you please, Captain; you have the power, if not the right, on your side, and I am compelled to yield to your will."

"Very good, now you can sleep if you think proper."

"Then you have nothing more to say to me?"

"Nothing."

"In that case I will avail myself of the permission you are kind enough to grant me, and try to make up for lost time."

The soldier then rose, stiffing a long yawn, walked a few paces off, lay down on the ground, and seemed within a few minutes plunged in a deep sleep.

The Captain remained awake. The conversation he had held with his guide only increased his anxiety, by proving to him that this man concealed great cunning beneath an abrupt and trivial manner. In fact, he had not answered one of the questions asked him, and after a few minutes had succeeded in making the Captain turn from the offensive to the defensive, by giving him speciously logical arguments to which the officer was unable to raise any objection.

Don Juan was, therefore at this moment in the worst temper a man of honour can be in, who is dissatisfied with himself and others, fully convinced that he was in the right, but compelled, to a certain extent, to allow himself in the wrong.

The soldiers, as generally happens in such cases, suffered from their chief's ill temper; for the officer, afraid of adding the darkness to the evil chances he fancied he had against him, and not at all desirous to be surprised by night in the inextricable windings of the forest, cut the halt short much sooner than he would have done under different circumstances.

At about two o'clock P.M. he ordered the boot and saddle to be sounded, and gave the word to start.

The greatest heat of the day had passed over, the sunbeams being more oblique, had lost a great deal of their power, and the march was continued under conditions comparatively better than those which preceded it.

As he had warned him, the Captain intimated to the guide that he was to ride by his side, and, so far as was possible, did not let him out of sight for a second.

The latter did not appear at all troubled by this annoying inquisition; he rode along quite as gaily as heretofore, smoking his husk cigarette, and whistling fragments of jarabés between his teeth.

The forest began gradually to grow clearer, the openings became more numerous, and the eye embraced a wider horizon; all led to the presumption that they would soon reach the limits of the covert.

Still, the ground began rising slightly on both sides, and the path the conducta followed grew more and more hollow, in proportion as it advanced.

"Are we already reaching the spurs of the mountains?" the Captain asked.

"Oh, no, not yet," the guide answered.

"Still we shall soon be between two hills?"

"Yes, but of no height."

"That is true; still, if I am not mistaken, we shall have to pass through a defile."

"Yes, but of no great length."

"You should have warned me of it."

"Why so?"

"That I might have sent some scouts ahead."

"That is true, but there is still time to do so if you like; the persons who are waiting for us are at the end of that gorge."

"Then we have arrived?"

"Very nearly so."

"Let us push on in that case."

"I am quite ready."

They went on; all at once the guide stopped.

"Hilloh!" he said, "Look over there, Captain; is not that a musket barrel glistening in the sunbeams?"

The Captain sharply turned his eyes in the direction indicated by the soldier.

At the same moment a frightful discharge burst forth from either side of the way, and a shower of bullets poured on the conducta.

Before the Captain, ferocious at this shameful treachery, could draw a pistol from his belt, he rolled on the ground, dragged down by his horse, which had a ball right through its heart.

The guide had disappeared, and it was impossible to discover how he had escaped.

CHAPTER XXVIII
JOHN DAVIS

John Davis, the ex-slave dealer, had too powerful nerves for the scenes he had witnessed this day, and in which he had even played a very active and dangerous part, to leave any durable impressions on his mind.

After quitting Blue-fox, he galloped on for some time in the direction where he expected to find the Jaguar; but gradually he yielded to his thoughts, and his horse, understanding with that admirable instinct which distinguishes these noble animals, that its rider was paying no attention to it, gradually reduced its pace, passing from the gallop to a trot, and then to a foot-pace, walking with its head down, and snapping at a few blades of grass as it passed.

John Davis was considerably perplexed by the conduct of one of the persons with whom accident had brought him in contact on this morning so fertile in events of every description. The person who had the privilege of arousing the American's attention to no eminent degree was the White Scalper.

The heroic struggle sustained by this man alone against a swarm of obstinate enemies, his herculean strength, the skill with which he managed his horse – all in this strange man seemed to him to border on the marvellous.

During bivouac watches on the prairie he had frequently heard the most extraordinary and exaggerated stories told about this hunter by the Indians with, a terror, the reason of which he comprehended, now that he had seen the man; for this individual who laughed at weapons directed against his chest, and ever emerged safe and sound from the combats he engaged in, seemed rather a demon than a being appertaining to humanity. John Davis felt himself shudder involuntarily at this thought, and congratulated himself in having so miraculously escaped the danger he had incurred in his encounter with the Scalper.

We will mention, in passing, that no people in the world are more superstitious than the North Americans. This is easy to understand: this nation – a perfect harlequin's garb – is an heterogeneous composite of all the races that people the old world; each of the representatives of these races arrived in America, bearing in his emigrants' baggage not only his vices and passions, but also his creed and his superstitions, which are the wildest, most absurd, and puerile possible. This was the more easily effected, because the mass of emigrants, who have at various periods sought a refuge in America, was composed of people for the most part devoid of all learning, or even of a semblance of education; from this point of view, the North Americans, we must do them the justice of saying, have not at all degenerated; they are at the present day at least as ignorant and brutal as were their ancestors.

It is easy to imagine the strange number of legends about sorcerers and phantoms which are current in North America. These legends, preserved by tradition, passing from mouth to mouth, and with time becoming mingled one with the other, have necessarily been heightened in a country where the grand aspect of nature renders the mind prone to reverie and melancholy.

Hence John Davis, though he flattered himself he was a strong-minded man, did not fail, like all his countrymen, to possess a strong dose of credulity; and this man, who would not have recoiled at the sight of several muskets pointed at his breast, felt himself shiver with fear at the sound of a leaf falling at night on his shoulder.

Moreover, so soon as the idea occurred to John Davis that the White Scalper was a demon, or, at the very least, a sorcerer, it got hold of him, and this supposition straightway became an article of belief with him. Naturally, he found himself at once relieved by this discovery; his ideas returned to their usual current, and the anxiety that occupied his mind disappeared as if by enchantment; henceforth his opinion was formed about this man, and if accident again brought them face to face, he would know how to behave to him.

Happy at having at length found this solution, he gaily raised his head, and took a long searching look around him at the landscape he was riding through.

He was nearly in the centre of a vast rolling prairie, covered with tall grass, and with a few clumps of mahogany and pine trees scattered here and there.

Suddenly he rose in his stirrups, placed his hand as a shade over his eyes, and looked attentively.

About half a mile from the spot where he had halted, and a little to the right, that is to say, exactly in the direction he intended to follow himself, he noticed a thin column of smoke, which rose from the middle of a thicket of aloe and larch trees.

On the desert, smoke seen by the wayside always furnishes ample matter for reflection.

Smoke generally rises from a fire round which several persons are seated.

Now man, in this more unfortunate than the wild beasts, fears before all else on the prairie meeting with his fellow-man, for he may wager a hundred to one that the man he meets will prove an enemy.

Still John Davis, after ripe consideration, resolved to push on toward the fire; since morning he had been fasting, hunger was beginning to prick him, and in addition he felt excessively fatigued; he therefore inspected his weapons with the most scrupulous attention, so as to be able to have recourse to them if necessary, and digging the spur into his horse's flank, he went on boldly toward the smoke, while carefully watching the neighbourhood for fear of a surprise.

At the end of ten minutes he reached his destination; but when fifty yards from the clump of trees, he checked the speed of his horse, and laid his rifle across the saddle-bow; his face lost the anxious expression which had covered it, and he advanced toward the fire with a smile on his lips, and the most friendly air imaginable.

In the midst of a thick clump of trees, whose protecting shade offered a comfortable shelter to a weary traveller, a man dressed in the costume of a Mexican dragoon was lazily seated in front of a fire, over which his meat was cooking, while himself smoked a husk cigarette. A long lance decorated with its guidon leaned against a larch tree close to him, and a completely harnessed horse, from which the bit had, however, been removed, was peaceably nibbling the tree shoots and the tender prairie grass.

This man seemed to be twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age; his cunning features were lit up by small sharp eyes, and the copper tinge of his skin denoted his Indian origin.

He had for a long time seen the horseman coming toward his camp, but he appeared to attach but slight importance to it, and quietly went on smoking and watching the cooking of his meal, not taking any further precaution against the unforeseen visitor than assuring himself that his sabre came easily out of its scabbard. When he was only a few paces from the soldier, John Davis stopped and raised his hand to his hat.

"Ave Maria Purísima!" he said.

"Sin pecado concebida!" the dragoon answered, imitating the American's gesture.

"Santas tardes!" the new comer went on.

"Dios les da a Vm buenas!" the other immediately answered.

These necessary formulas of every meeting exhausted, the ice was broken, and the acquaintance made.

"Dismount, Caballero," the dragoon said; "the heat is stifling on the prairie; I have here a famous shade, and in this little pot cecina, with red harico beans and pimento, which I think you will like, if you do me the honour to share my repast."

"I readily accept your flattering invitation, Caballero," the American answered with a smile; "the more readily because I confess to you that I am literally starving, and, moreover, exhausted with fatigue."

"Caray! In that case I congratulate myself on the fortunate accident that occasions our meeting, so pray dismount without further delay."

"I am going to do so."

The American at once got off his horse, removed the bit, and the noble animal immediately joined its companion, while its master fell to the ground by the dragoon's side, with a sigh of satisfaction.

"You seem to have made a long ride, Caballero?" the soldier said.

"Yes," the American answered, "I have been on horseback for ten hours, not to mention that I spent the morning in fighting."

"Cristo! You have had hard work of it."

"You may say so without any risk of telling an untruth; for, on the word of a hunter, I never had such a tough job."

"You are a hunter?"

"At your service."

"A fine profession," the soldier said with a sigh; "I have been one too."

"And you regret it?"

"Daily."

"I can understand that. Once a man has tasted the joys of desert life, he always wishes to return to it."

"Alas, that is true."

"Why did you give it up then, since you liked it so much?"

"Ah, why!" the soldier said; "through love."

"What do you mean?"

"Yes, a child with whom I was so foolish as to fall in love, and who persuaded me to enlist."

"Oh, hang it!"

"Yes, and I had scarce put on my uniform, when she told me she was mistaken about me: that, thus dressed, I was much uglier than she could have supposed; in short, she left me in the lurch to run after an arriero."

The American could not refrain from laughing at this singular story.

"It is sad, is it not?" the soldier continued.

"Very sad," John Davis answered, trying in vain to regain his gravity.

"What would you have?" the soldier added gloomily; "the world is only one huge deception. But," he added with a sudden change of his tone, "I fancy our dinner is ready – I smell something which warns me that it is time to take off the pot."

As John Davis had naturally no objection to offer to this resolution of the soldier, the latter at once carried it into effect; the pot was taken off the fire and placed before the two guests, who began such a vigorous attack, that it was soon empty, in spite of its decent capacity.

This excellent meal was washed down with a few mouthfuls of Catalonian refino, with which the soldier appeared amply provided.

All was terminated with the indispensable cigarette, that obligato complement of every Hispano-American meal, and the two men, revived by the good food with which they had lined their stomachs, were soon in an excellent condition to open their hearts to each other.

"You seem to me a man of caution, Caballero," the American remarked, as he puffed out an immense mouthful of smoke, part of which came from his mouth, and part from his nostrils.

"It is a reminiscence of my old hunter's trade. Soldiers generally are not nearly so careful as I am."

"The more I observe you," John Davis went on, "the more extraordinary does it appear to me that you should have consented to take up a profession so badly paid as that of a soldier."

"What would you have? It is fatality, and then the impossibility of sending the uniform to the deuce. However, I hope to be made a Cabo before the year's out."

"That is a fine position, as I have heard; the pay must be good."

"It would not be bad, if we received it."

"What do you mean?"

"It seems that the government is not rich."

"Then, you give it credit?"

"We are obliged to do so."

"Hang it! but forgive me for asking you all these questions, which must appear to you indiscreet."

"Not at all; we are talking as friends."

"How do you live?"

"Well, we have casualties."

"What may they be?"

"Do you not know?"

"Indeed, I do not."

"I will explain."

"You will cause me pleasure."

"Sometimes our Captain or General entrusts us with a mission."

"Very good."

"This mission is paid for separately; the more dangerous it is, the larger the amount."

"Still on credit?"

"No, hang it; in advance."

"That is better. And have you many of these missions?"

"Frequently, especially during a pronunciamento."

"Yes, but for nearly a year no General has pronounced."

"Unluckily."

"Then you are quite dry?"

"Not quite."

"You have had missions?"

"I have one at this moment."

"Well paid?"

"Decently."

"Would there be any harm in asking how much?"

"Not at all; I have received twenty-five ounces."

"Cristo! that is a nice sum. The mission must be a dangerous one to be paid so highly."

"It is not without peril."

"Hum! In that case take care."

"Thank you, but I run no heavy risk; I have only to deliver a letter."

"It is true that a letter – " the American carelessly remarked.

"Oh! this one is more important than you fancy it."