Gustave Aimard
The Smuggler Chief: A Novel

CHAPTER XXXI
THE CAMP OF THE MOLUCHOS

When Tahi-Mari reached the council lodge, the great Molucho chiefs were already assembled. A compact crowd of Indian warriors silently surrounded the approaches of the lodge, and pressed forward to hear the resolutions which were going to be formed by the Ulmens.

On perceiving the formidable toqui of the Moluchos, the warriors respectfully fell back to let him pass, and Tahi-Mari entered the hut. His face was haughty and frowning, and everything about him indicated pride and resolution. He sat down on the trunk of a tree reserved for him, and which enabled him to survey the assembly. After looking round him for a moment, he began to speak —

"For what purpose have my brothers, the Ulmens of the twelve nations, assembled?" he asked.

"The pale-faces," Huachacuyac replied, "have sent two great chiefs to discuss peace with us."

"The Spaniards," Tahi-Mari continued, "have two tongues and two faces. My brothers must be on their guard, for they wish to deceive them by false promises, while they are preparing the means to destroy them."

"Matai," said the Ulmens, "our brother is learned: he is a great warrior; he will judge."

"What is the opinion of my brothers? We cannot refuse to receive the messengers of peace," Huachacuyac remarked.

"My brothers speak wisely: let the Spanish chiefs be brought in, and we will hear them."

A movement took place among the Indians; Shounon-Kouiretzi went in for a moment, and returned almost immediately, conducting General Don Pedro Sallazar and Colonel Don Juan de Soto-Mayor. They were unarmed, but their bold bearing and haughty brow showed that they did not experience the slightest fear at finding themselves at the mercy of their barbarous enemies.

A dozen lanceros, unarmed like them, halted at the lodge-door. Shounon-Kouiretzi motioned the two officers to sit down on trunks of trees not so high as the one employed by the chief, then after lighting a calumet, he handed it to Tahi-Mari, who smoked it for an instant and restored it to him. The latter then presented it to Don Pedro Sallazar, who passed it to Don Juan. The calumet soon went the round of the assembly and returned to Tahi-Mari, who finished it. After this the toqui threw the ashes towards the strangers, saying, in a loud voice —

"These chiefs and the soldiers who accompany them are the guests of the Ulmens of the twelve Molucho nations: the warriors will respect them till sunset."

This ceremony performed, there was a profound silence.

"What do the Spanish warriors desire?" Tahi-Mari at length said; "the white chiefs can speak, for the ears of my brothers the Ulmens are open."

Don Pedro Sallazar rose and said in Indian, a language which he spoke with considerable facility —

"Grand Ulmens of the twelve nations, you, oh formidable toqui, and all you red warriors who are listening to me, your great white father sends me to you; his heart bleeds at seeing the numberless misfortunes which war has caused; his ears are filled with the complaints of mothers reduced to despair and of children who are weeping for their fathers killed in action. The country is devastated, the towns are only piles of ashes, and the rivers and streams whose waters were so limpid are now corrupted and fetid with the number of corpses they bear along. His mind being saddened by these terrible calamities, and wishing at length to restore tranquillity and abundance to this unhappy land, your great white father asks of you through my voice that the axe should be buried between us, peace be re-established among us, and the redskins and palefaces henceforth form one united nation. Let my red brothers reflect: I have spoken."

Don Pedro Sallazar sat down again, and Tahi-Mari immediately replied —

"The Ulmens of the twelve great nations have never desired war; they have avoided it as long as they could, and now endure it. It is not the Molucho nation that dug up the hatchet. It is now three hundred years since the Spaniards landed in our country. Our tribes had no liberty upon the seashore, but the palefaces pursued them as if they had been like wild beasts, and compelled them to take refuge in the deserts of the Andes. Why, after tearing from the poor Indians the fertile and sunlit lands which they possessed, are they now trying to rob them of the uncultivated plains and reduce them to slavery? Why do they wish to destroy their religion, and their laws, and drive them into the eternal snows? Are not the Indians and Spaniards sons of the same Father? Do not the priests of the palefaces themselves say so? Let my brother the Spanish chief answer."

"Yes," said Don Pedro, rising, "the great chief of the Moluchos is right; but why renew old quarrels and revive ancient animosities? Is not the country vast enough to support us all? Why should we not live in peace together, each following our laws and professing our religion? We are ready to grant our Indian brothers all they ask that is just and equitable. I have come here to listen to the propositions of the Ulmens, and the great Spanish chief will ratify them if they are reasonable."

"It is too late," Tahi-Mari replied, rising in his turn; "the Moluchos are resolved to regain their liberty, which was unjustly torn from them; they are tired of living like wretched vagabonds on the snow-covered mountains; now that they have descended into the plains warmed by the sunshine they do not wish to leave them."

"The Ulmens will reflect," Don Pedro resumed. "They must not let themselves be led astray by a slight success; the Spaniards are powerful, and victory has ever been on their side up to this day."

"And then, too," said Don Juan, rising in his turn, "what do you hope to obtain? Do you fancy yourselves sufficiently strong, even if you succeed in capturing Santiago, to contend against the immense forces which will come to crush you from the other side of the Great Salt Lake? No; the war you are waging is a senseless war, without any possible object or result. Commenced under the persuasion of an ambitious chief, who employs you to carry out schemes of which you are ignorant, you are only instruments in his hands. Believe my words and those of General Sallazar; accept the frank and loyal peace which we propose to you. This man, whom you have appointed your toqui, is abusing you and deceiving you, and driving you towards an abyss into which you will fall if you do not listen to the voice of reason, which addresses you through our lips."

A lengthened tumult and menacing effervescence followed these remarks of the young man. The chiefs anxiously questioned each other in a low voice. Don Juan's bold language had produced a certain impression on them, and some of them recognised its correctness. Tahi-Mari alone remained impassive; not a muscle of his face had moved, and the trace of any emotion might be sought in vain upon his countenance. When the effect produced by Don Juan's speech was slightly calmed, he rose, and giving his foe an ironical glance, he said —

"The young Spanish chief has spoken well, and if he does not count many years he has a great deal of wisdom. Peace is good when loyally offered."

"And we do offer it loyally," Don Juan remarked eagerly.

"Ah! my brother must pardon me," Tahi-Mari said, with a sarcastic smile.

"That demon is meditating some roguery," Don Pedro said, in a low voice, to his companion; "we must be on our guard."

"My brothers the Ulmens," Diego continued, "have heard the words pronounced by the two Spanish chiefs, and if they were really the expression of their thoughts I would join my voice to theirs in urging you to accept the peace they offer; but unfortunately here is a proof of the bad faith which regulates their conduct."

Tahi-Mari drew from under his poncho a paper, which he slowly unfolded, while a quiver of curiosity ran along the ranks of the Indians, and the two Spanish officers exchanged glances in which anxiety was visible.

"This despatch, my brothers, was found this very day upon a Spanish soldier, who was the bearer of it. My brothers, the Ulmens, will listen to me as I read it; and then see the amount of confidence which they ought to place in the sincerity of our enemies."

"We are listening;" the Ulmens said.

"This is it," Diego remarked, and read:

"'My dear General, – The Indians are pressing us closely, and have placed us in a most precarious position; still I hope to gain a few days by making them proposals of peace, which will have no result, as you can easily imagine; but will give the reinforcements you announce to me time to come up. Do not delay, for I am anxious to deal a decisive blow, and drive the rebels for ever from these parts.'"

"This letter, signed by the President of the Republic, is addressed to the general commanding the province of Coquimbo. My brother can consult: I have spoken," and Tahi-Mari resumed his seat.

A movement of fury seized the Ulmens, who rushed on the Spanish officers with the intention of tearing them to pieces.

"Back, all of you," Tahi-Mari shouted in a thundering voice, "these men are inviolable!"

The Indian stopped as if by enchantment.

"The word of an Ulmen is sacred," the half-breed continued. "Let these chiefs return to the lodges of their white brothers; my brothers will show these perfidious Spaniards that the great chiefs of the twelve Molucho nations are as merciful as they are powerful."

Don Pedro and Don Juan, after escaping the peril that menaced them, prepared to depart.

"A moment," said Tahi-Mari; "you will not leave the camp alone; follow me."

And leaving the council lodge, he pointed towards his wigwam, in front of the two officers and their escort of lanceros, who had awaited them at the door.

On reaching the door of his abode, Diego went in, but came out again almost immediately, holding by the hand a veiled female.

"There," he said, addressing Don Juan, "take away this girl, who wearies me, and whose verses no longer possess any charms for me; perhaps she will succeed in pleasing some of the soldiers, for she is Spanish."

Then with a rapid movement he tore off the veil that concealed the prisoner's features, and pushed her towards the officers.

"Inez!" the latter exclaimed, in horror.

It was indeed Inez; though not to be recognized by others but them, as her face had assumed so strange an expression, and her eyes were wandering. She turned her head in all directions, looking stupidly around her, and then suddenly folding her arms on her chest, she sang with an accent of ineffable sadness the following lines from an old dance song: —

 
"From the corner,
From the corner of the Carmen
To the rock,
To the golden rock,
I have seen a,
I have seen a girl descend,
Singing,
Singing the Sambacueca."
 

"Oh!" Don Juan murmured in despair; "great Heaven, she is mad."

"And I have not even a sword," Don Pedro exclaimed, wringing his hands furiously.

"Ah, Don Juan de Soto-Mayor, you did not expect I fancy, to find your sister in Tahi-Mari's lodge? Take her back, while awaiting the end of my vengeance; for, as I told you, I do not wish to have anything more to do with her; and you, Señor Don Pedro, are you not her assumed husband?"

"Wretch! why did I not listen to the feeling of aversion, with which you inspired me, when I saw you at the house of General Soto-Mayor? I ought to have killed you before you made me fall into the trap which you and your gang laid for us in offering to escort us."

"Coward!" Don Juan said in his turn, his eyes full of tears; "kill the brother after dishonouring the sister, for I hate you and defy you."

And, raising his hand, he sprang forward to strike Diego on the face; but the latter at once guessing the young man's intention, seized his arm and held him as in a vice.

"I need but to give a signal, and your head and that of your companion roll at your feet; but I will not give it."

And with a sudden push he threw Don Juan far from him.

"Begone," he said coldly, "for no one will touch your person, which is sacred to all in this camp, our two families no longer reckon insults and wrongs, Don Juan, and this one will be requited with the rest."

During this time poor Inez, apparently not noticing what was going on, was crouching in a corner, and with her head in her hands and her long hair covering her face, was humming in a low voice a hymn to the Virgin. Without making any reply to Diego the young men walked up to Inez and made her rise. She offered no resistance, but continued to sing —

 
"'The birds in the sky,
The fishes of the sea,
The wild beasts of the forests,
Celebrate her glory.'"
 

"What is the matter, Señor Caballero?" she suddenly asked, as she broke off her chant and looked at her brother, "you appear sad. Would you like me to sing you a pretty sequidilla?"

 
"'Señorita, señorita,
Raise your little foot.'"
 

"Oh," said Don Juan, "what madness! Inez, my sister, recognise me. I am Juanito, your brother, whom you love so dearly."

A flash of intelligence passed into the maiden's eyes, and a smile played round her lips.

"Juanito!" she said. "Yes, yes," she exclaimed clapping her hands, "listen – "

 
"'Juanito is a brave,
A brave whom I love,
A handsome fellow dressed,
All in cloth – "
 

A hoarse burst of laughter interrupted the song.

"Why try to arouse her memory?" Tahi-Mari said, with a shrug of the shoulders.

"Oh!" Don Juan exclaimed, turning to him, "all your blood will not suffice to avenge us."

"As you please, caballero: but in the meanwhile be off, or I cannot answer for your safety."

"Not yet," said a thundering voice, which vibrated through the air.

A great disturbance broke out in camp, and a man covered with perspiration and dust proceeded towards Tahi-Mari's hut. It was Captain Leon Delbès, on seeing whom Diego turned pale, but remained motionless. Leon advanced toward him thrusting aside every obstacle that barred his progress.

"What have you done with General Soto-Mayor's daughter?" he asked, fixing his eyes on the half-breed's.

The smuggler's entrance had been so unexpected, his action so extraordinarily rash, that all the Indians who witnessed the scene stood as if petrified with admiration and amazement. On hearing Leon's question Diego looked down, but made no reply.

"What have you done with her, I ask you?" the captain repeated with a passionate stamp of his foot.

At this moment the young lady, to whom nobody paid attention, leant on his shoulder, and with a charming smile began singing again in a sweet and melancholy voice —

 
"Seated at the corner of a street,
They tell me that my chuca sells,
They tell me that she sells flowers."
 

"Oh!" Leon exclaimed, "I understand it all now. Unhappy child! unhappy father!"

And quick as thought, he drew a pistol from his girdle, and placed the muzzle against the half-breed's chest. The latter, calm and haughty, raised his eyes and looked at Leon, without making the slightest motion to escape death. The young man trembled, and let his weapon sink again.

"And yet I cannot kill him!" he said, the first feeling of surprise over. The Indians rushed furiously on him to make him pay dearly for this insensate attempt.

"Stay," Diego said, "this man is an adopted son of the Moluchos, and I forbid you touching him."

The Indians fell back.

"Is this the way in which you avenge yourself?" Leon exclaimed. "What! instead of attacking your enemy face to face, you cowardly carry off a child to make her your victim! Oh! I curse the day when my hand clasped yours for the first time: I believed you to be a man of heart, and you are a ferocious brute. I no longer hate you, I despise you."

"Leon, your heart is no longer your own; it belongs to a Spanish girl, and a cloud covers your mind; one day you will render me justice."

"Never!" Leon replied, "never! I curse you, and I swear by the ashes of my mother, that if you let me leave this place, my vengeance shall pursue you; you will ever find me on your road ready to fight you and overthrow your plans."

"Your will be done, brother: my hand will never be laid upon you to ask an account of your outrages. But woe to the Spaniards who have broken our friendship!"

"Speak no more of friendship, since you have crushed my life and destroyed my happiness for ever."

"Are you saying the truth?" Diego asked, feeling doubt glide into his mind.

But already the captain, followed by Don Pedro, Don Juan, and Inez was crossing the camp, through a triple row of Molucho warriors, who watched without daring to attack them, though their desire so to do was great. They soon reached the spot where their horses were waiting, and half an hour later were all four at the house of Senator Don Henriquez de Castago. While all proper care was being given to the unhappy Inez, Leon Delbès told the two officers – in what state he had left General Soto-Mayor, and of; his speedy arrival at Santiago accompanied by Maria. When he had finished this painful narrative, Don Pedro and Don Juan, struck by the same misfortunes, displayed toward Leon the most lively feelings of esteem and friendship, while complimenting him on the attachment which he had not ceased to display toward the Soto-Mayor family.

"Sir," Don Pedro said to him, "if during the course of our unhappy journey to Valdivia, I for a moment misunderstood your noble qualities, forgive me, for today I declare to you it is a friend who sincerely offers you his hand."

Leon pressed the general's hand warmly.

"Don Juan and I are going to inform the senate of the result of our mission; you remain in this house till the general arrives."

The smuggler bowed, and the three men separated, respectively enlightened as to the feelings of esteem which they professed for each other.

CHAPTER XXXII
THE SACK OF SANTIAGO

Leon's first care on reaching Santiago had been to inquire after the residence of Don Henriquez de Castago, and to inform him of the visit which General Soto-Mayor intended to pay him. At the same time he told him of the purpose of his own journey. Don Henriquez eagerly placed his house at the smuggler's disposal, and told him of the perilous mission which was being attempted at that very moment by General Don Pedro, and his cousin, Colonel Don Juan, in going to the toqui of the Araucanos to make him proposals of peace. It was then that Leon, after quartering his men, set out in all haste for the camp, in order to obtain news of Inez, and at the same time help the two officers if they were in danger. We know what occurred in consequence of this exploit.

Two days after these events, General Don Juan de Soto-Mayor and his daughter Maria arrived at the capital of Chili. Thanks to the numerous precautions which the surgeon had taken, the old gentleman had suffered but little through the journey, and the state of his health was more satisfactory than might have been supposed. So soon as he reached the house of senator Don Castago, he was put to bed, and Leon took upon himself to inform him of the release of Inez, the outrages of which the poor girl had been the victim, and the madness which had resulted from them. The general begged her to be brought to him, and when she was in his presence he embraced her, and covered her with tears.

Inez could not at all understand her father's grief, whom she did not at all recognise; but struck by the old man's suffering appearance, she at once installed herself by his bedside, and would not quit it again. Her madness was gentle and melancholy; she spent long hours without breathing a syllable, or sang to strange tunes snatches of songs which she had formerly known.

On her side, Maria, attentive and devoted even to self-denial, lavished on Don Juan the most affectionate care, and the old man discovered at each moment in his daughter the germs of the noblest qualities of the heart. Leon's name was never pronounced by the general without arousing in her thoughts of joy and happiness; but, understanding what kindness and gentleness her father had displayed in not spurning the smuggler's love for her, she silently awaited the moment when she would be able to yield entirely to the happiness of belonging to the man whom her heart had selected.

The general, as we may suppose, had been beyond all expression surprised on hearing the community of feeling between the captain and Maria; but penetrated with gratitude for the eminent services which the young man had rendered him, he heartily desired that an opportunity might offer itself to fill up the distance that separated Leon's rank from his. But it was no easy matter.

In the meanwhile, the position of the Chilians shut up in Santiago was beginning to grow serious. The Indian lines were being gradually drawn closer round the town, intercepting the communications with the exterior, and preventing news from being received. The provisions would soon run short; want was already being felt in the poorer districts, and wretched people, with worn and haggard faces, might be seen wandering about the streets and loudly demanding bread.

General Sallazar had succeeded, it is true, in crossing the Masincho after a glorious battle with the Indians, and entered Santiago; but it was far more difficult to drive away the besiegers who surrounded the city. Situated in the heart of the Chilian republic, the capital is at a great distance from the frontier; and as it had no reason to apprehend foreign attacks, owing to the impassable deserts that separate the states, it had not been fortified.

Attempts had been made hastily to throw up a few breastworks, but workmen were wanting. Discouragement seized on the population, and the inhabitants, terrified at the sight of the Indians, filled the churches with their lamentations, and offered up vows and novenas, instead of combating their enemies energetically, and dying courageously in defence of their homes.

Eight days passed thus, and during this period Leon distinguished himself greatly by making daring sorties at the head of his men, in which he captured herds of cattle or flocks of sheep, which revictualled the town and restored a little courage to the population. One evening, after carefully visiting all the posts with Don Juan, General Sallazar, Leon was preparing to take a few hours of indispensable rest after a fatiguing day, when suddenly the bells of all the churches began pealing, shrieks were heard, and soldiers galloped through the town, shouting, "To arms! to arms!"

The Indians were beginning the assault by attacking the town on all sides simultaneously. The danger was imminent, and there was no time for hesitation. The salvation of the whole population was at stake. The three gentlemen shook hands silently, and rushed in different directions.

The night was dark and rainy; the west wind howled furiously in the hills near the town, and from time to time a dazzling flash rent the horizon, and preluded the rolling of the thunder which was blended with the sharp sinister crash of the musketry fire. The drums beat, and bugles brayed; the churches were crowded with women and children, who, piously kneeling on the slabs, prayed God, the Virgin, and the saints to come to their assistance.

The tumult was frightful. The cries of the wounded, the hurrahs of the combatants, and above all, the war yells of the Indians, who bounded like panthers upon the last defenders of the town. All this formed a din rendered more horrible still by the sight of the fire which was beginning to tinge the sky with a red and ill-omened glare.

Tahi-Mari, naked to the waist, his hair in disorder, and his features contrasted by the thirst for carnage and destruction, held an axe in one hand and a torch in the other. He was seen rushing at the head of a band of veteran redskins into the thickest of the Spanish battalions, cleaving a bloody track for himself – felling and pitilessly massacring all those who dared to oppose his fury. Santiago was one immense crater – the fire embraced the whole city; its devouring flames had dissipated the darkness, and spread around a light which allowed the dark outlines of the combatants to be seen as they struggled with the sublime energy of despair.

A countless swarm of Indians had invaded the town, and fighting was going on on all sides. The Spaniards disputed the ground inch by inch, and the streets, the squares, and the houses were the scene of a horrible massacre. Tahi-Mari, ever in the first rank of the Indians, excited his soldiers by his shouts and example. All was lost, and the Chilian capital had at length fallen into the power of the Araucanos. The burning buildings fell in with a crash, burying beneath their ruins assailants and assailed. The churches were given up to pillage, while the women and girls, torn half naked from their houses or from the foot of the altar, endured the last violence which their cruel victors inflicted upon them.

All hope of flight or rescue seemed annihilated; the redskins, drunk with carnage and spirits, rushed furiously upon the relics of the despairing population. It was at this moment that the President of the Republic, followed by a few devoted soldiers, formed a hollow square on the Plaza de la Merced, in the centre of which he placed all the aged persons, women, and children, who had escaped the fury of the Indians.

Suddenly loud shouts were heard, and three heavy bodies of men, commanded by Don Juan, General Pedro Sallazar, and Leon Delbès, debouched from three different streets. In the centre of the one commanded by Leon, was old Don Juan carried on a litter, with Maria and Inez by her side. Leon placed the persons whom he had saved in the centre of the square formed by the President, and called on Don Juan and Don Pedro's detachments.

"Now," he cried to the President of the Republic, "fall back, while we support you."

"Do so," he answered.

And the square fell back with all those whom it contained. "Forward!" Leon shouted, "kill! kill!"

And the three bands, facing the startled Indians, threw themselves upon them and commenced a frightful butchery. The square De la Merced was literally encumbered with combatants. The Moluchos, incessantly pushed forward by their comrades, who arrived to their help, fell impassively beneath the lances and sabres of the Spaniards, who protected the flight of the President as he retired and took in his charge all those persons incapable of bearing, arms. The fugitives soon reached the city gates.

The contest had lasted more than an hour. A countless number of corpses covered the ground and formed a rampart for the Spaniards, who redoubled their energy. At this moment Tahi-Mari appeared in the square. At a glance he judged the position, and rushed upon the Spaniards. The shock was terrible. Don Pedro and Don Juan recognised their common enemy, and cutting their way through the dead and wounded, both attacked him at once.

"Ah!" Diego shouted, "we meet at last, then."

"Yes," Don Pedro retorted, as he aimed a sabre cut at him, "and for the last time, I hope."

"You have told the truth," said Diego, as he parried with the handle of his axe the blow aimed at him; "die, then!"

And he cleft his head open. The unfortunate Don Pedro stretched out his arms, rolled his eyes wildly, and fell from his horse, murmuring the name of Inez. The Spaniards uttered a cry of grief, to which the Indians responded by a shout of triumph.

"It is now our turn," Tahi-Mari exclaimed, as he dashed towards Don Juan.

"Yes," the young man replied, "our long standing quarrel will be at length decided."

The two enemies rushed upon each other with clenched lips and bloodshot eyes, fighting furiously, caring little about dying, provided that one killed the other. But at each instant a crowd of Indians or Spaniards, drawn by the moving incidents of the fight, came between them and separated them. When this happened they made extraordinary efforts to come together again, overthrowing the obstacles that were in their way, and constantly seeking each other, only one thought occupied them – that of satiating their vengeance; every other consideration was effaced from their minds, and forgetting the sacred interests which they had to defend, they only thought of their personal hatred. Ere long those who separated them fell back, and they found themselves once more face to face.

"Defend yourself, Tahi-Mari," Don Juan shouted, as he dashed at the Indian chief.

"Here I am," the latter shouted, "and you are about to die."

Suddenly leaping from his horse, he cut the sinews of the colonel's horse with a blow of his axe. But Don Juan probably expected this attack, for when his horse fell uttering a long snort of pain, he was standing with his feet freed from the stirrups. Then began, between these two men, a combat impossible to describe, in which rage and fury took the place of skill. Tahi-Mari wielded his terrible axe with unparalleled dexterity; Don Juan had his sabre welded to his wrist, and followed the slightest movements of the other.

Each observed the other, and calculated the value of his blows. Eye on eye, chest against chest, panting, with foreheads streaming with perspiration, and their features violently contracted by hatred, they watched for the decisive moment. Don Juan was bleeding from two deep wounds; he felt his strength becoming exhausted, and felt as if he could no longer hold his sword. Tahi-Mari had also received several wounds, not dangerous, it is true, but which were, for all that, visible on his face and movements.

All at once, the half-breed, profiting by the fact that his enemy, who had constantly been on guard, left himself uncovered, aimed a blow at him with his axe. Don Juan raised his sword, but only parried imperfectly, and the axe was buried deeply in his shoulder. Collecting all his strength, he had to keep his feet; but tottering involuntarily, he fell to the ground, heaving a deep sigh. Diego burst into a yell of triumph, and rushed upon the young man.

"At last," he said.

At the same moment he received a violent blow, and he fell back blaspheming. He rose with lightning speed, and saw Leon Delbès before him, who had rolled him in the dust by dashing his horse's chest at him.