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

CHAPTER XVI
A POLITICAL SKETCH

Before proceeding further, we will say in a few words what was the political situation of Texas at the moment when the story we have undertaken to tell took place.

During the Spanish domination, the Texans claimed their liberty, arms in hand; but after various successes, they were definitively crushed at the battle of Medina, on August 13th, 1815, a fatal date, by Colonel Arredondo, commanding the regiment of Estremadura, who was joined by the Militia of the State of Cohahuila. From that period up to the second Mexican Revolution, Texas remained bowed beneath the intolerable yoke of the military regime, and left defenceless to the incessant attacks of the Comanche Indians.

The United States had on many occasions raised claims to that country, declaring that the natural frontiers of Mexico and the Confederation were the Rio Bravo; but compelled in 1819 to allow ostensibly that their claims were not founded, they employed roundabout means to seize on this rich territory, and incorporate it in their borders.

It was at that time they displayed that astute and patiently Machiavellian policy, which finally led to their triumph.

In 1821, the first American emigrants made their appearance, timidly, and almost incognito, on the brazos, clearing the land, colonizing secretly, and becoming in a few years so powerful, that in 1824 they had made sufficient progress to form a compact mass of nearly 50,000 individuals. The Mexicans, incessantly occupied in struggling one against the other in their interminable civil wars, did not understand the purport of the American immigration, which they encouraged at the outset.

Hardly eight years had elapsed since the arrival of the first Americans in Texas, when they formed nearly the entire population.

The Washington Cabinet no longer concealed its intentions, and spoke openly of buying from the Mexicans the territory of Texas, in which the Spanish element had almost entirely disappeared, to make room for the daring and mercantile spirit of the Anglo-Saxons.

The Mexican Government, at last aroused from its long lethargy, understood the danger that threatened it from the double invasion of the inhabitants of Missouri and Texas into the State of Santa Fé. It tried to arrest the American emigration, but it was too late; the law passed by the Mexican Congress was powerless, and the colonization was not arrested, in spite of the Mexican military posts scattered along the border, with orders to turn the immigrants back.

General Bustamante, President of the Republic, seeing that he would soon have to fight with the Americans, silently prepared for the conflict, and sent under different pretexts to Red River and the Sabina various bodies of troops, which presently attained to the number of 1200 men.

Still, everything remained quiet apparently; and nothing evidenced the period when the struggle would commence, which a perfidy on the part of the Governor of the Eastern provinces caused to break out at the moment when least expected.

The facts were as follow: —

The Commandant of Anahuac arrested and put in prison several American colonists, without any plausible grounds.

The Texans had hitherto patiently endured the innumerable vexations which the Mexican officers made them undergo, but at this last abuse of force they rose as if by one accord, and went under arms to the Commandant, demanding with threats and angry shouts the immediate liberation of their fellow-citizens.

The Commandant, too weak to resist openly, feigned to grant what was asked of him, but represented that he required two days to fulfil certain formalities, and cover his own responsibility.

The insurgents granted this delay, by which the Commandant profited to send in all haste to the Nacogdoches garrison to help him.

This garrison arrived at the moment when the insurgents, confiding on the Governor's promise, were with-drawing.

Furious at having been so perfidiously deceived, the latter returned and made such an energetic demonstration that the Mexican officer considered himself fortunate in escaping a fight by surrendering his prisoners.

At this period, a pronunciamento in favour of Santa Anna hurled General Bustamante from power to the cry of "Long live the Federation!"

Texas was extremely afraid of the system of centralization, from which it would never have obtained the recognition of its independence as a separate State, and hence the people were unanimous for Federalism.

The colonists rose, and joining the insurgents of Anahuac who were still under arms, marched resolutely on Fort Velasco, to which they laid siege.

The rallying cry was still "Long live the Federation!" But this time it concealed the cry of Independence, which the Texans were as yet too weak to raise.

Fort Velasco was defended by a small Mexican garrison, commanded by a brave officer of the name of Ugartechea.

During this extraordinary siege, in which the assailants only replied to the cannon with rifle bullets, both Texans and Mexicans performed prodigies of valour and displayed extraordinary obstinacy.

The colonists, skilful marksmen, hidden behind enormous barricades, fired as at a mark, and killed the Mexican gunners whenever they showed themselves to load their guns. Matters reached such a point that the Commandant, seeing his bravest soldiers fall round him, devoted himself and set to work as artilleryman. Struck by this heroic courage, the Texans, who could have killed the brave Commandant twenty times, ceased their fire, and Ugartechea at length surrendered, giving up a defence which was henceforth impossible.

The success filled the colonists with joy, but Santa Anna was not deceived as to the object of the Texan insurrection; he understood that federalism concealed a well-devised revolutionary movement, and far from trusting to the apparent devotion of the colonists, so soon as his power was sufficiently strengthened to allow him to act energetically against them, he sent off Colonel Mexia with four hundred men, to reestablish in Texas the greatly shaken Mexican authority.

After many hesitations and diplomatic dodges, which had no possible result with parties, both of which employed perfidy as their chief weapon, the war at length broke out furiously; a committee of public safety was organized at San Felipe, and the people were called upon to take part in the struggle.

The civil war, however, had not yet officially broken out, when the man at length appeared who was destined to decide the fate of Texas, and for whom the glory of liberating it was reserved – we allude to Samuel Houston.

From this moment the timid and purposeless insurrection of Texas became a revolution. Still the Mexican government remained apparently the legitimate master of the colony, and the colonists were naturally denominated insurgents, and treated as such, when they fell into the hands of their enemies; that is to say, they were without trial hung, drowned, or shot, according as the spot where they were captured suited one of these three modes of death.

At the period when our story opens, the exasperation against the Mexicans and the enthusiasm for the noble cause of Independence had reached their acme.

About three weeks previously, a serious engagement had taken place between the garrison of Bejar and a detachment of Texan volunteers, commanded by Austin, one of the most renowned Chiefs of the insurgents; in spite of their inferiority in numbers and ignorance of military tactics, the colonists fought so bravely, and worked their solitary gun so skilfully, that the Mexican troops, after undergoing serious losses, were compelled to retreat precipitately on Bejar.

This action was the first on the west of Texas after the capture of Fort Velasco; it decided the revolutionary movement which ran through the country like a train of gunpowder.

On all sides the towns raised troops to join the army of liberation; resistance was organized on a grand scale and bold Guerilla Chiefs began traversing the country in every direction, making war on their own account, and serving after their fashion the cause they embraced and which they were supposed to be defending.

Captain Don Juan Melendez, surrounded by enemies the more dangerous because it was impossible for him to know their numbers or guess their movements; entrusted with an extreme delicate mission; having at each step a prescience of treachery incessantly menacing, though ignorant where, when, or how it would burst on him; was compelled to employ extreme precautions and a merciless severity, if he wished to get safe home the precious charge confided to him; hence he had not hesitated before the necessity of instituting an example by roughly punishing Padre Antonio.

For a long time past, grave suspicions had been gathering over the monk; his ambiguous conduct had aroused distrust, and caused presumptions in no way favourable to his honesty.

Don Juan had determined to clear up his doubts at the first opportunity that offered; we have stated in what way he had succeeded by springing a countermine, that is to say, by having the spy watched by others more skilful than himself, and catching him almost red-handed.

Still, we must do the worthy monk the justice of declaring that his conduct had not the slightest political motive; his thoughts were not so elevated as that; knowing that the Captain was entrusted with the charge of a conducta de plata, he had only tried to draw him into a trap, for the sake of having a share in the plunder, and making his fortune at a stroke, in order that he might enjoy those indulgences he had hitherto gone without; his ideas did not extend further, the worthy man was simply a highway robber, but there was nothing of the politician about him.

We will leave him for the present to follow the two hunters to whom he was indebted for the rude chastisement he received, and who quitted the camp immediately after the execution of the sentence.

These two men went off at a great speed, and, after descending the hill, buried themselves in a thick wood, where two magnificent prairie horses, half-tamed Mustangs, with flashing eye and delicate limbs, were quietly browsing, while waiting for their riders; they were saddled in readiness for mounting.

After unfastening the hobbles, the hunters put the bits in their mouths, mounted, and digging in their spurs, started at a sharp gallop.

They rode for a long distance, bent over their horses' necks, following no regular path, but going straight on, caring little for the obstacles they met on their passage, and which they cleared with infinite skill; about an hour before sunrise they at length stopped.

They had reached the entrance of a narrow gorge, flanked on both sides by lofty wooded hills, the spurs of the mountains, whose denuded crests seemed from their proximity to hang over the landscape. The hunters dismounted before entering the gorge, and after hobbling their horses, which they hid in a clump of floripondios, they began exploring the neighbourhood with the care and sagacity of Indian warriors seeking booty on the war-trail.

Their researches remained for a long time sterile, which could easily be perceived from the exclamations of disappointment they every now and then vented in a low voice: at length, after two hours, the first beams of the sun dissipated the darkness, and they perceived some almost imperceptible traces which made them start with joy.

Probably feeling now liberated from the anxiety that tormented them, they returned to their horses, lay down on the ground, and after fumbling in their alforjas, drew from them the materials for a modest breakfast, to which they did honour with the formidable appetite of men who have spent the whole night in the saddle, riding over mountains and valleys.

Since their departure from the Mexican camp the hunters had not exchanged a syllable, apparently acting under the influence of a dark preoccupation, which rendered any conversation unnecessary.

In fact, the silence of men accustomed to desert life is peculiar; they pass whole days without uttering a word, only speaking when necessity obliges them, and generally substituting for oral language that language of signs which, in the first place, has the incontestable advantage of not betraying the presence of those who employ it to the ears of invisible enemies constantly on the watch, and ready to leap, like birds of prey, on the imprudent persons who allow themselves to be surprised.

When the hunters' appetite was appeased, the one whom the Captain called John lit his short pipe, placed it in the corner of his month, and, handed the tobacco-pouch to his comrade.

"Well, Sam," he said in a low voice, as if afraid of being overheard, "I fancy we have succeeded, eh?"

"I think so too, John," Sam replied with a nod of affirmation; "you are deucedly clever, my boy."

"Nonsense," the other said disdainfully; "there is no merit in deceiving those brutes of Spaniards; they are stupid as bustards."

"No matter, the Captain fell into the hole in a glorious way."

"Hum! it was not he I was afraid of; for he and I have been good friends for a long time; but it was the confounded monk."

"Eh, eh, if he had not arrived just in time, he would probably have spoiled our fun; what is your opinion, John?"

"I think you are right, Sam. By Jabers, I laughed at seeing him writhe under the chicote."

"It was certainly a glorious sight; but are you not afraid that he may avenge himself? these monks are devilishly spiteful."

"Bah! what have we to fear from such vermin? He will never dare to look us in the face."

"No matter, we had better be on our guard. Our trade is a queer one, as you know, and it is very possible that some day or other this accursed animal may play us an ugly trick."

"Don't bother about him; what we did was all fair in war. Be assured that, under similar circumstances, the monk would not have spared us."

"That is true; so let him go to the deuce; the more so as the prey we covet could not be in a better situation for us. I should never pardon myself if I let it escape."

"Shall we remain here in ambush?"

"That is the safest way; we shall have time to rejoin our comrades when we see the recua enter the plain; and, besides, have we not to meet somebody here?"

"That is true, I forgot it."

"And stay, when you speak of the devil – here is our man."

The hunters rose quickly, seized their rifles, and hid themselves behind a rock, so as to be ready for any event.

The rapid gallop of a horse became audible, approaching nearer and nearer; ere long a rider emerged from the gorge, and pulled up calmly and haughtily at about two paces from the hunters.

The latter rushed from their ambuscade, and advanced toward him, with the right arm extended, and the palm of the hand open in sign of peace.

The horseman, who was an Indian warrior, responded to these pacific demonstrations by letting his buffalo robe float out; then he dismounted, and without further ceremony, shook the hands offered him.

"You are welcome, Chief," John said; "we were awaiting you impatiently."

"My Pale brothers can look at the sun," the Indian answered; "Blue-fox is punctual."

"That is true, Chief; there is nothing to be said, for you are remarkably punctual."

"Time waits for no man; warriors are not women; Blue-fox would like to hold a council with his Pale brothers."

"Be it so," John went on: "your observation is just. Chief, so let us deliberate; I am anxious to come to a definitive understanding with you."

The Indian bowed gravely to the speaker, sat down, lit his pipe, and, began smoking with evident pleasure; the hunters took seats by his side, and, like him, remained silent during the whole period their tobacco lasted.

At length, the Chief shook the ashes out of the bowl on his thumbnail, and prepared to speak.

At the same instant a detonation was heard, and a bullet cut away a branch just over the Chiefs head.

The three men leaped to their feet, and seizing their arms, prepared bravely to repulse the enemies who attacked them so suddenly.

CHAPTER XVII
THE PANTHER-KILLER

Between the Larch-tree hacienda and the Venta del Potrero, just half way between the two places, or at about forty miles from either, two men were sitting on the banks of a nameless stream, and conversing, as they supped on pemmican and a few boiled camotes.

These two men were Tranquil, the Canadian, and Quoniam, the Negro.

About fifty yards from them, in a copse of brambles and shrubs, a young colt about two months old was fastened to the trunk of a gigantic catalpa. The poor animal, after making vain efforts to break the cord that held it, had at length recognised the inutility of its attempts, and had sorrowfully lain down on the ground.

The two men, whom we left young at the end of our prologue, had now reached the second half of life. Although age had got but a slight grasp on their iron bodies, a few grey hairs were beginning to silver the hunter's scalp, and wrinkles furrowed his face, which was bronzed by the changes of the seasons.

Still, with the exception of these slight marks, which serve as a seal to ripened age, nothing denoted any weakening in the Canadian; on the contrary, his eye was still bright, his body equally straight, and his limbs just as muscular.

As for the Negro, no apparent change had taken place in him, and he seemed as young as ever; he had merely grown lustier, but had lost none of his unparalleled activity.

The spot where the two wood rangers had camped was certainly one of the most picturesque on the prairie.

The midnight breeze had swept the sky, whose dark blue vault seemed studded with innumerable spangles of diamonds, in the midst of which the southern cross shone; the moon poured forth its white rays, which imparted to objects a fantastic appearance; the night had that velvety transparence peculiar to twilight; at each gust of wind the trees shook their damp heads, and rained a shower, which pattered on the shrubs.

The river flowed on calmly between its wooded banks, looking in the distance like a silver riband, and reflecting in its peaceful mirror the trembling rays of the moon, which had proceeded about two-thirds of its course.

So great was the silence of the desert, that the fall of a withered leaf, or the rustling of a branch agitated by the passage of a reptile, could be heard.

The two men were conversing in a low voice; but, singularly enough with men so habituated to desert life, their night encampment, instead of being, according to the invariable rules of the prairie, situated on the top of a hillock, was placed on the slope that descended gently to the river, and in the mud of which numerous footprints of more than a suspicious nature were encrusted, the majority belonging to the family of the great Carnivora.

In spite of the sharp cold of night, and the icy dew which made them tremble, the hunters had lit no fire; still they would assuredly have derived great comfort from warming their limbs over the genial flames; the Negro especially, who was lightly attired in drawers that left his legs uncovered, and a fragment of a zarapé, full of holes, was trembling all over.

Tranquil, who was more warmly attired in the garb of Mexican Campesinos, did not appear to notice the cold at all; with his rifle between his legs, he gazed out into the darkness, or listened to any sound perceptible to him alone, while he talked to the Negro, disdaining to notice either his grimaces or the chattering of his teeth.

"So," he said, "you did not see the little one to-day Quoniam?"

"No, no, I have not seen her for two days," the Negro answered.

The Canadian sighed.

"I ought to have gone myself," he went on; "the girl is very solitary there, especially now that war has let loose on this side all the adventurers and border-ruffians."

"Nonsense! Carmela has beak and nails; she would not hesitate to defend herself if insulted."

"Confusion!" the Canadian exclaimed, as he clutched his rifle, "If one of those Malvados dared to say a word – "

"Do not trouble yourself thus, Tranquil; you know very well that if any one ventured to insult the Querida Niña, she would not want for defenders. Besides, Lanzi never leaves her for a moment, and you are aware how faithful he is."

"Yes," the hunter muttered, "but Lanzi is only a man after all."

"You drive me to desperation with the ideas which so unreasonably get into your head."

"I love the girl, Quoniam."

"Hang it, and I love her too, the little darling! Well, if you like, after we have killed the jaguar, we will go to the Potrero – does that suit you?"

"It is a long way from here."

"Nonsense! three hours' ride at the most. By the bye, Tranquil, do you know that it is cold? And I am getting literally frozen; cursed animal! I wonder what it is doing at this moment; I daresay it is amusing itself with wandering about instead of coming straight here."

"To be killed, eh?" Tranquil said, with a smile. "Hang it all! Perhaps it suspects what we have in store for it."

"That is possible, for those confounded animals are so cunning. Hilloah! the colt is quivering – it has certainly scented something."

The Canadian turned his head.

"No, not yet," he said.

"We shall have a night of it," the Negro muttered, with an ill-tempered look.

"You will ever be the same, Quoniam – impatient and headstrong. Whatever I may tell you, you obstinately refuse to understand me; how many times have I repeated to you that the jaguar is one of the most cunning animals in existence? Although we are to windward, I feel convinced it has scented us. It is prowling cunningly around us, and afraid to come too near us; as you say, it is wandering about without any apparent object."

"Hum! Do you think it will carry on that game much longer?"

"No, because it must be beginning to grow thirsty; three feelings are struggling in it at this moment – hunger, thirst, and fear; fear will prove the weakest, you may be assured; and it is only a question of time."

"I can see it; for nearly four hours we have been on the watch."

"Patience; the worst is over, and we shall soon have some news, I feel assured."

"May Heaven hear you, for I am dying of cold; is it a large animal?"

"Yes, its prints are wide, but, if I am not greatly mistaken, it has paired."

"Do you think so?"

"I could almost bet it, it is impossible for a single jaguar to do so much mischief in less than a week; from what Don Hilario told me, it seems that ten head of the Ganada have disappeared."

"In that case," Quoniam said, rubbing his hands gleefully, "we shall have a fine hunt."

"That is what I suppose; and it must have whelps to come so near the hacienda."

At this moment a hoarse bellowing, bearing some slight resemblance to the miauling of a cat, troubled the profound silence of the desert.

"There is its first cry," said Quoniam.

"It is still a long way off."

"Oh, it will soon come nearer."

"Not yet; it is not after us at this moment."

"Who else, then?"

"Listen."

A similar cry to the first, but coming from the opposite side, burst forth at this moment.

"Did I not tell you," the Canadian continued, quietly, "that it had paired?"

"I did not doubt it. If you do not know the habits of tigers, who should?"

The poor colt had risen; it was trembling all over, half dead with terror, and with its head buried between its front legs, it was standing up and uttering little plaintive cries.

"Hum!" Quoniam said, "poor innocent brute, it understands that it is lost."

"I hope not."

"The jaguar will strangle it."

"Yes, if we do not kill the brute first."

"By Jabus!" the Negro said, "I confess I should not be sorry if that wretched colt escaped."

"It will do so," the hunter answered; "I have chosen it for Carmela."

"Nonsense! Then why did you bring it here?"

"To make it used to the tiger."

"Well, that is an idea! Then I need not look any longer over there?"

"No, only think of the jaguar which will come on your right, while I take charge of the other."

"That's agreed."

Two other louder roars burst forth almost simultaneously.

"The beast is thirsty," Tranquil remarked; "its anger is aroused, and it is coming nearer."

"Good! shall we get ready?"

"Wait a while, our enemies are hesitating; they have not yet reached that paroxysm of rage which makes them forget all prudence."

The Negro, who had risen, sat down again philosophically.

A few minutes passed thus. At intervals the night breeze, laden with uncertain rumour, passed over the hunters' heads, and was lost in the distance like a sigh.

They were calm and motionless, with the eye fixed on space, the ear open to the mysterious noises of the desert, the finger on the rifle-trigger, ready at the first signal to face the still invisible foe, whose approach and imminent attack they, however, instinctively divined.

All at once the Canadian started, and stooped down to the ground.

"Oh!" he said, as he rose with marks of terrible anxiety, "What is taking place in the forest?"

The roar of the tiger burst forth like a clap of thunder.

A horrible shriek responded to it, and the wild gallop of a horse was heard, approaching at headlong speed.

"Quick! Quick!" Tranquil shouted, "Someone is in danger of death – the tiger is on his trail."

The two hunters rushed intrepidly in the direction of the roars.

The whole forest seemed quivering; nameless sounds issued from the hidden lairs, resembling at one moment mocking laughter, at another cries of agony.

The hoarse miauling of the jaguars went on uninterruptedly. The gallop of the horses which the hunters heard at first seemed multiplied and issuing from opposite points.

The panting hunters still ran on in a straight line, bounding over ravines and morasses with wonderful speed; the terror they felt for the strangers whom they wished to help gave them wings.

Suddenly a shriek of agony, louder and more despairing than the former, was heard a short distance off.

"Oh!" Tranquil shouted, in a paroxysm of madness, "It is she! It is Carmela!"

And, bounding like a wild beast, he rushed forward, followed by Quoniam, who, during the whole wild race, had never left him a hair's breadth.

Suddenly a deadly silence fell over the desert – every noise, every rumour, ceased as if by enchantment, and nothing could be heard save the panting of the hunters, who still ran on.

A furious roar uttered by the tigers burst forth; a crashing of branches agitated an adjoining thicket, and an enormous mass, bounding from the top of the tree, passed over the Canadian's head and disappeared; at the same instant a flash burst through the gloom and a shot was heard, answered almost immediately by a roar of agony and a shriek of horror.

"Courage, Niña, courage!" a masculine voice exclaimed, a short distance off, "You are saved!"

The hunters, by a supreme effort of their will, increased their speed, which was already incredible, and at length entered the scene of action.

A strange and terrible sight then offered itself to their horror-stricken gaze.

In a small clearing a fainting woman was stretched out on the ground, by the side of a ripped-up horse, which was struggling in the final convulsions.

This female was motionless, and appeared to be dead.

Two young tigers, crouching like cats, fixed their ardent eyes upon her, and were preparing to attack her; a few paces further on a wounded tiger was writhing on the ground with horrid roars, and trying to leap on a man, who, with one knee on the ground, with his left arm enveloped in the numerous folds of a zarapé, and the right armed with a long machete, was resolutely awaiting its attack.

Behind the man, a horse, with outstretched neck, smoking nostrils and laid-back ears, was quivering with terror, while a second tiger, posted on the largest branch of a larch tree, fixed its burning glances on the dismounted rider, while lashing the air with its tail, and uttering hoarse miauls.

What we have taken so long to describe, the hunters saw at a glance; quick as lightning the bold adventurers selected their parts, with a look of sublime simplicity.

While Quoniam leaped on the tiger cubs, and seizing them by the scurf, dashed their brains out against a rock, Tranquil shouldered his rifle, and killed the tigress at the moment when she was leaping on the horseman. Then turning with marvellous speed he killed the second tiger with the butt of his rifle, and laid it stiff at his feet.

"Ah!" the hunter said, with a feeling of pride, as he rested his rifle on the ground, and wiped his forehead, which was bathed in a cold perspiration.

"She lives!" Quoniam shouted, who understood what agony his friend's exclamation contained; "Fear alone made her faint, but she is otherwise unhurt."

The hunter slowly took off his cap, and raised his eyes to heaven.

"Thanks, O God!" he murmured, with an accent of gratitude impossible to render.

In the meanwhile, the horseman, so miraculously saved by Tranquil, had walked up to him.

"I will do the same for you, some day," he said, as he held out his hand.

"It is I who am your debtor," the hunter answered, frankly; "had it not been for your sublime devotion, I should have arrived too late."

"I have done no more than another in my place."

"Perhaps so. Your name, brother?"

"Loyal Heart. Yours?"

"Tranquil. We are friends for life and death."

"I accept, brother. And now let us attend to this poor girl."

The two men shook hands for a second time, and went up to Carmela, on whom Quoniam was lavishing every imaginable attention, though unable to recall her from the profound faint into which she had fallen.

While Tranquil and Loyal Heart took the Negro´s place, the latter hastily collected a few dried branches and lit a fire.

After a few minutes, however, Carmela faintly opened her eyes, and was soon sufficiently recovered to explain the cause of her presence in the forest, instead of being quietly asleep in the Venta del Potrero.

This story, which, in consequence of the maiden's weakness, and the poignant emotions she had endured, it took her several hours to complete, we will tell the reader in a few words in the next chapter.