Gustave Aimard
The Tiger-Slayer: A Tale of the Indian Desert

"He would have done wrong," the count replied. "The colony of Guetzalli is a fortress, and the regulations must be the same for all: the general welfare depends on their strict and entire observation. Martin recognised me long ago, I am convinced; but he may suppose that I am a prisoner of the Indians, and that, in leaving me apparently free they intend to surprise the colony. Be assured that my excellent lieutenant will not let us pass till he is quite certain that our European clothes do not cover red skins."

"Oh, yes!" Don Sylva muttered to himself; "That is true. The Europeans foresee everything. They are our masters."

The caravan was now not more than twenty yards from the hacienda.

"I fancy," the count observed, "that if we do not wish to receive a shower of bullets we had better halt."

"What!" said Don Sylva in amazement; "They would fire?"

"I am certain of it."

The two men checked their horses and waited to be challenged.

"Who goes there?" a powerful voice shouted in French from behind the battery.

"Well, what do you think of it now?" the count said to the hacendero.

"It is perfectly wonderful," rejoined the latter.

"Friends," the count answered. "Lhorailles and freedom!"

"All right – open," the voice commanded. "They are friends. Would that we often received such visitors!"

The peons lowered the drawbridge (the only passage by which the hacienda could be entered), the caravan passed over and the drawbridge was immediately raised after them.

"You will excuse me, captain," Martin Leroux said, respectfully approaching the count, "but, although I recognised you, we live in a country where, I think, too great prudence cannot be exercised."

"You have done your duty, lieutenant, and I can only thank you for it. Have you any news?"

"Not much. A troop of horse I sent out into the plain discovered a deserted fire. I fancy the Indians are prowling round us."

"We will be on our guard."

"Oh, I keep good watch, especially at present, for the month is drawing nigh which the Comanches call so audaciously the Mexican moon. I should not be sorry, if they dared to meddle with us, to give them a lesson which would be profitable for the future."

"I share your views entirely. Redouble your vigilance, and all will be well."

"Have you no other orders to give me?"

"No."

"Then I will withdraw. You know, captain, that you intrust the internal details to me, and I must be everywhere in turn."

"Go, lieutenant; let me not keep you."

The old soldier saluted his chief, and retired with a friendly nod to the capataz, who followed him with the peons and baggage mules.

The count led his guests to the apartments kept for visitors, and installed them in comfortably-furnished rooms.

"Pray rest yourself, Don Sylva," he said; "you and Doña Anita must be fatigued with your journey. Tomorrow, if you permit me, we will talk about our business."

"Whenever you like, my friend."

The count bowed to his guests and withdrew. Since his meeting with his betrothed he had not exchanged a word with her. In the courtyard he found the Hiaqui Indian smoking and walking lazily around. He went up to him.

"Here," he said, "are the ten piastres promised you."

"Thanks," said the Indian as he took them.

"Now, what are you going to do?"

"Rest myself till tomorrow; then join the men of my tribe."

"Are you in a great hurry to see them?"

"I? Not at all."

"Stay here, then."

"What to do?"

"I will tell you; perhaps I may need you within a few days."

"Shall I be paid?"

"Amply. Does that suit you?"

"Yes."

"Then you will remain?"

"I will."

The count went away, not noticing the strange expression in the glance the Indian turned on him.

CHAPTER IX
A MEETING IN THE DESERT

About three musket shots' distance from the hacienda, in a thicket of nopals, mastic trees, and mesquites, intermingled with a few mahogany cedars, wild cottonwood trees, and pines, just an hour before sunset, a horseman dismounted; hobbled his horse, a magnificent mustang, with flashing eyes and fine chest; then, after turning an inquiring glance around, probably satisfied with the profound silence and tranquility pervading at the spot, he made his arrangements for camping.

The man had passed middle life: he was an Indian warrior of great height dressed in the Comanche costume in its utmost purity. Although he appeared to be sixty years of age, he seemed gifted with great vigour, and no sign of decrepitude could be traced in his muscular limbs and intelligent face: the eagle's feather fixed in the centre of his warlock allowed him to be recognised as a chief. This man was Eagle-head, the Comanche chief.

After laying his rifle by his side he collected dry wood, and lit a fire; then he threw several yards of tasajo on the ashes, with several maize tortillas; and all these preparations for a comfortable supper made, he filled his calumet, crouched near the fire, and began smoking with that placid calmness which never deserts the Indians under any circumstances.

Two hours thus passed peacefully, and nothing disturbed the repose the chief was enjoying. Night succeeded day; darkness had invaded the desert, and with it the silence of solitude began to reign in the mysterious depths of the prairie.

The Indian still remained motionless, contenting himself with turning now and then to his horse, which was gaily devouring the climbing peas and the young buds of the trees.

Suddenly Eagle-head looked up, bent forward, and, without otherwise disturbing himself, stretched out his hand to his rifle, while the mustang left off eating, laid back its ears, and neighed noisily. Still the forest appeared as calm as ever. It needed all an Indian's sharp ear to have heard a suspicious rustling through the silence.

At the end of a moment the chiefs frowning brows returned to their proper position, he re-assumed his easy posture, and lifting his two forefingers to his mouth, imitated with rare perfection, for two or three minutes, the harmonious, modulations of the centzontle, or Mexican nightingale: the horse had also begun eating again.

Only a few minutes passed ere the cry of the nighthawk was twice heard in the direction of the river. Soon after the sound of horses became audible, mingled with the cracking of branches and the rustling of leaves, and two mounted men made their appearance. The chief did not turn to see who they were; he had probably recognised them, and knew that they alone, or at any rate one of them, were to come to him here.

These two horsemen were Don Louis and Belhumeur. They hobbled their horses by the side of the chiefs, lay down by the fire, and, on the Indian's silent invitation, vigorously attacked the supper prepared for them. They had left the Rancho the previous evening, and ridden without the loss of a moment to join the chief.

The Count de Lhorailles had invited them at the pulquería to join his party, but Belhumeur had declined the offer. Not knowing for what purpose the Indian chief had appointed to meet him, he did not care to mix up a stranger in his friend's affairs. Still, the three men had parted on excellent terms, and the count pressed Don Louis and the Canadian to pay him a visit at Guetzalli, an offer to which they had replied evasively.

Singular is the effect of sympathy. The impression the count produced on the two adventurers was so unfavourable for him, that the latter, while replying with the utmost politeness, had not thought it wise to give their names, and had employed the greatest reserve, carrying their prudence to such an extent as to leave him ignorant of their nationality, by continuing to converse in Spanish, though at the first word he uttered they recognised him to be a Frenchman.

When they had ended their meal Belhumeur filled his pipe, and put out his hand to take up a coal.

"Wait," the chief said sharply.

This was the first word the Indian uttered; up to that moment the three men had not interchanged a syllable. Belhumeur looked at him.

"H'm!" he said, "What is the matter now?"

"I do not know yet," the chief answered. "I have heard a suspicious rustling in the bushes; and at a great distance off, to leeward of us, several buffaloes peacefully grazing took to flight without any apparent cause."

"Hum!" the Canadian went on, "That is growing serious. What do you think, Louis?"

"In the desert," the latter replied slowly, "everything has a cause – nothing happens by accident. I believe we had better be on our guard. Stay!" he added, as he raised his head, and pointed out to his friends several birds that passed rapidly away over them. "Have you often seen at this hour a flight of condors soaring in the sky?"

The chief shook his head.

"There is something the matter," he muttered: "the dogs of Apaches are hunting."

"'Tis possible," Belhumeur said.

"Before all," the Frenchman observed, "let us put out the fire; its gleam, slight as it is, might betray us."

His companions followed his advice, and the fire was extinguished in a second.

"My brother, the paleface, is prudent," the chief said courteously. "He knows the desert. I am happy to see him by my side."

Don Louis thanked the chief courteously.

"And now," Belhumeur went on, "we are almost invisible – no visible danger threatens us; so let us hold a council. The chief had the first scent of peril: it is, therefore, his place to tell us what he observed."

The Indian wrapped him up in his fresada; the three men drew closer, so as to be able to speak in a whisper, and the council commenced.

"Since sunrise this morning," Eagle-head said, "I have been marching in the desert. I was anxious to reach the place of meeting, and proceeded in a straight line to arrive sooner. All along the road I found evident signs of the passage of a numerous band; the tracks were wide and full, like those made by a party of warriors so large they care not for discovery. These trails continued for a long distance, then suddenly disappeared: it was impossible for me to find them again."

"Deuce, deuce!" the Canadian muttered, "That is awkward."

"At first I did not pay much attention to trail, but presently I began to feel restless, and that is the reason I have mentioned it to you."

"What reason rendered you restless?"

"I believe that the expedition whose passage I discovered is directed against the great cabin of the palefaces at Guetzalli."

"What makes you suppose so?" Louis asked.

"This. At the hour the alligator leaves the mud of the bank to plunge again into the Gila, the sound of horses a short distance off compelled me, lest I should be discovered, to bury myself in a thicket of mangroves and floripondios. When sheltered from a surprise I looked out. A band of palefaces passed within bow-shot of me, in the direction of Guetzalli."

"I know who they were," Belhumeur remarked. "What next?"

"I recognised, in spite of the care he had taken to render himself unrecognisable, the man who served as guide to the party; then I guessed the infernal scheme formed by the Apache dogs."

"Who was it?"

"A man my brother knows. It is Wah-sho-che-gorah, the Black Bear, the principal chief of the White Crow tribe."

"If you are not mistaken, chief, horrible things will be done ere long. The Black Bear is the implacable enemy of the whites."

"That was the reason I spoke to my brother. But, after all what does it concern us? In the desert each man has enough to do in taking care of himself, without troubling about others."

The Canadian shook his head.

"Yes, what you say is true," he replied. "We ought, perhaps, to abandon the inhabitants of the hacienda to their fate, and not interfere in matters which may cause us great misery."

"Do you intend to act thus?" the Frenchman asked sharply.

"I do not say so positively," the Canadian replied; "but the case is a difficult one. We shall have to deal with numerous enemies."

"Yes, but the men about to be surprised are your fellow countrymen."

"It is true; and it is that which renders the affair so awkward. I do not wish to see these unhappy beings scalped. On the other hand, we run the risk, by hurrying rashly into danger, of ourselves being the victims of our devotion."

"Why reflect thus?"

"By Jove! In order to weigh the for and against. There is nothing I detest so much as rushing headlong into an enterprise of which I have not calculated the consequences beforehand. When I have done so I care for nothing."

Don Louis could not refrain from smiling at this singular reasoning.

"I have my plan," the Canadian went on a moment later. "The night will not pass without our learning something new. Let us draw near the bank of the river. I am greatly mistaken, or we shall soon obtain there the there the information we require before we make up our minds. Our horses run no risk here: we can leave them; besides, they would only prove an embarrassment for us."

The three men lay down on the ground, and began crawling silently in the direction indicated by Belhumeur.

The night was magnificent, the moon brilliant, and the atmosphere so diaphanous, that objects might have been distinguished for a great distance on an open plain. The three adventurers did not leave their covert; but, on arriving at the skirt of the forest, they hid themselves in an almost inextricable thicket, and waited with that patience so characteristic of the wood rangers.

The silence which brooded over the desert was so intense that the slightest sounds were perceptible. A leaf falling on the water, a pebble detaching itself from the bank, the slow and continuous murmur of the water running over its gravel bed, the rustling of the owl's wing as it fluttered from branch to branch, were the only distinguishable sounds.

For several hours the three men remained motionless and watchful, eye and ear strained, with the finger on the trigger of the rifle, through fear of a surprise; but nothing had yet happened to corroborate the suspicions of Eagle-head, or the previsions of Belhumeur. Suddenly Louis felt the chief's arm resting gently on his shoulder, as he pointed to the river. The Frenchman rose on his knees and looked.

An almost imperceptible movement agitated the surface of the river, as if an alligator were floating along.

"Oh, oh!" Belhumeur muttered; "I fancy that is what we are expecting."

A black mass soon appeared, floating rather than swimming on the water, and noiselessly advancing toward the spot where the hunters were in ambush. At the end of a few moments, this body, whatever it might be, stopped, and the cry of the prairie dog was heard several times repeated.

At once the howl of the coyote broke forth forcibly so near the three men, that, spite of themselves, they shuddered, and a man hanging by the hands dropped down from an oak tree, scarcely three yards from the spot where they were.

This man wore the Mexican costume.

"Come, chief," he said in a low voice, though not venturing down to the river, "come, we are alone."

The man thus addressed emerged from the water, and clambered up the bank to join the person awaiting him.

"My brother speaks too loudly," he said. "In the desert a man is never alone; the leaves have eyes, the trees ears."

"Bah! What you say, has not common sense. Who on earth would play the spy on us? With the exception of your warriors, who are probably concealed in the neighbourhood, no one can see or hear us."

The Indian shook his head. Now that he was standing only a few spaces from the adventurers, Belhumeur perceived that Eagle-head was not mistaken, and that the man was really the Black Bear. The two men stood for a moment silently gazing at each other. The Mexican was the first to speak.

"You have manoeuvred well," he said in an insinuating voice. "I know not how you managed it, but you have succeeded in entering the fort."

"Yes," the Indian replied.

"Now we have only our final arrangements to make. You are a great chief in whom I place the utmost confidence. Here is what I promised you. I ought not to pay you till afterwards, but I do not wish the slightest cloud to rise between us."

The Indian silently rejected the purse the other held out to him.

"The Black Bear has reflected," he said coldly.

"On what, may I ask?"

"A warrior is not a woman to waste his words. What my brother offered the Black Bear, the Apache chief refuses."

"Which means?"

"That all is broken off."

The Mexican repressed with difficulty a sign of disappointment.

"Then," he said, "You have not warned your warriors? When I give the order you will not attack the hacienda?"

"The Black Bear has warned his warriors. He will attack the palefaces."

"What did you say this moment? I confess that I do not comprehend you, chief."

"Because the paleface will not comprehend. The Black Bear will attack the hacienda, but on his own account."

"That was agreed between us, I fancy."

"Yes; but the Black Bear has seen the singing bird. His hut is empty: he wishes to place in it the young pale virgin."

"Scoundrel!" the Mexican shouted in his wrath; "You would betray me in that way?"

"How have I betrayed the paleface?" the Indian replied, still perfectly calm. "He offered me a bargain; I refused it. I see nothing dishonest in that."

The Mexican bit his lip with rage; he was caught, and could make no reply.

"I will revenge myself," he said, stamping his foot.

"The Black Bear is a powerful chief; he laughs at the croaking of the ravens. The paleface can do nothing against him."

With a movement swift as thought, the Mexican rushed on the Indian, seized him by the throat, and, drawing his dagger, raised it to strike him. But the Apache carefully watched the actions of his opponent: by a movement no less swift he freed himself from his grasp, and with one bound was out of reach.

"The paleface has dared to touch a chief," he said in a hoarse voice; "he shall die."

The Mexican shrugged his shoulders and seized the pistol in his girdle.

It is impossible to say how this scene would have ended, had not a new incident happened to change its features completely. From the same tree in which the Mexican had been hidden a few moments previously, another individual suddenly fell, rushed on the chief, and hurled him to the ground before he could make a gesture to defend himself, so thoroughly was he off his guard.

"By Jove!" Belhumeur muttered with a stifled laugh, "there must be a legion of devils in that tree."

The Mexican and the man who had come so luckily to his help had securely tied the Indian with a reata.

"Now you are in my power, chief," the Mexican said, "and you will be obliged to consent to my terms."

The Apache grinned, and uttered a shrill whistle.

At this signal fifty Indian warriors appeared, as if they had sprung from the ground, and that so suddenly, that the two white men were surrounded in an instant by an impassable circle.

"Deuce!" Belhumeur said in an aside, "that complicates matters. How will they get out of that?"

"And we?" Louis whispered in his ear.

The Canadian replied by that shrug of the shoulders which signifies in all languages, "We must trust in Heaven," and began looking again, interested as he was in the highest degree by the unexpected changes of scene.

"Cucharés!" the Mexican said to his companion, "Hold that scoundrel tight and at the least suspicious movement kill him like a dog."

"Be calm, Don Martial," the lepero answered, pulling from his vaquera boot a knife, whose sharp blade flashed with a bluish tinge in the moon's rays.

"What decision does the Black Bear come to?" the Tigrero went on, addressing the chief lying at his feet.

"The life of a chief belongs to thee, dog of the palefaces: take it if thou darest!" the Apache replied with a smile of contempt.

"I will not kill you: not because I am afraid, for I know not such a feeling," the Mexican said, "but because I disdain to shed the blood of an enemy who is defenceless, even if he be, like you, an unclean coyote."

"Kill me, I say, if thou canst, but insult me not. Hasten! For my warriors may lose patience, sacrifice thee to their wrath, and thou mightest die unavenged."

"You are jesting; you know perfectly well that your warriors will not move an inch so long as I hold you thus. I propose to offer you peace."

"Peace!" the chief said, and his eyes flashed. "On what conditions?"

"Two only. Cucharés, unfasten the reata, but watch him closely."

The lepero obeyed.

"Thanks," the chief said as he rose to his knees. "Speak; I am listening – my ears are open. What are these conditions?"

"First, my comrade and myself will be free to retire whither we please."

"Good, and next?"

"Next, you will pledge yourself to remain with your warriors, and not return to the hacienda in the disguise you have assumed for the next twenty-four hours."

"Is that all?"

"It is all."

"Listen to me in your turn, then, paleface. I accept your conditions, but I must tell you mine."

"Speak."

"I will not re-enter the hacienda save with the eagle feather in my war-tuft, at the head of my warriors, and that before the sun has thrice set behind the lofty peaks of the mountains of the day."

"You are boasting, Apache; it is impossible for you to enter the hacienda save by treachery."

"We shall see;" and smiling with a sinister air, he added, "the singing bird will go into the hut of an Apache chief to cook his game."

The Mexican shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.

"Try to take the hacienda and carry off the maiden," he said.

"I will try. Your hand."

"Here it is."

The chief turned to his warriors, holding the Tigrero's hand clasped in his own.

"Brothers!" he said in a loud voice, and with an accent of supreme majesty, "this paleface is the friend of the Black Bear – let no one molest him."

The warriors bowed respectfully, and fell back to the right and left, to leave a passage for the two white men.

"Farewell!" the Black Bear said, saluting his enemy. "In twenty-four hours I shall be on your trail."

"You are mistaken, dog of an Apache," Don Martial replied disdainfully; "I shall be on yours."

"Good! We are, then, certain of meeting," the Black Bear said.

And he retired with a slow and firm step, followed by his warriors, whose footfalls soon died away in the depths of the forest.

"On my faith, Don Martial," the lepero said, "I believe that you were wrong to let that Indian dog escape so easily."

The Tigrero shrugged his shoulders.

"Were we not obliged to get out of the wasp's nest into which we had thrust our heads?" he said. "Bah! It is only put off for a time. Let us go and find our horses."

"One moment if you will grant it me," Belhumeur said, leaving his hiding place, and advancing politely with his two comrades.

"What's this?" Cucharés said, pulling out his knife again, while Don Martial coolly cocked his pistols.

"This? Caballero," Belhumeur said quietly, "I fancy you can see plainly; enough."

"I see three men."

"Indeed, you are not at all mistaken. Three men who have been unseen witnesses of the scene you ended so bravely – three men who held themselves ready to come to your aid had it been necessary, and who now offer to make common cause with you, to prevent the plunder of the hacienda by the Apaches. Does that suit you?"

"That depends," the Tigrero said. "I must know first what interest urges you to act in this manner."

"That of being agreeable to you in the first place," Belhumeur replied politely, "and next, the desire to save the scalps of the poor wretches menaced by those infernal redskins."

"In that case I heartily accept your offer."

"Be good enough, then, to follow us to our camping ground, that we may discuss the plan of the campaign."

So soon as Cucharés noticed that the men who presented themselves so strangely were really friends, he returned his knife to his boot, and went in search of the horses, which had been left a short distance off. He arrived at this moment, leading the two horses, and the five men proceeded together to the camping ground.

"Take care," Belhumeur said to Don Martial; "you have made yourself an implacable enemy this night. If you do not make haste to kill him, one day or another the Black Bear will kill you. The Apaches never pardon an insult."

"I know it; so I shall take my precautions, you may be sure."

"That is your concern. Perhaps it would have been better to get rid of him, at the risk of what might have happened afterwards."

"How could I imagine I had friends so near me? Oh, had I but known it!"

"Well, it is of no use crying over spilt milk."

"Do you believe that he will keep scrupulously the conditions he accepted?"

"You do not know the Black Bear; he is a man of noble sentiments and has a way of his own for understanding points of honour. You saw that during your entire discussion he disdained to play any trickery: his words were always frank."

"They were."

"Be certain, therefore, that he will keep his promise."

The conversation was interrupted. Don Martial had suddenly become pensive. The Apache's menaces gave him a good deal to think about. The camp was reached, and Eagle-head immediately set to work rekindling the fire.

"What are you about?" Belhumeur observed to him. "You will reveal our presence."

"No," the Indian said, shaking his head. "The Black Bear has retired with his warriors: they are far away at present; so we need not take useless precautions."

The fire soon cracked again. The five men crouched round it joyfully, lit their pipes and began smoking.

"I don't care," the Canadian presently said. "Had it not been for the extraordinary coolness you displayed I do not know how you would have escaped."

"Let us now see how best to foil the plans of those red devils," said the Mexican.

"It is very simple," Louis interposed. "One of us will proceed tomorrow to the hacienda, to warn the owner of what has passed this night. He will be on his guard and all will be right."

"Yes, I believe those are the best means, and we will employ them."

"Five men are as nothing against five hundred," observed Eagle-head; "we must warn the palefaces."

"That is assuredly the plan we must follow," the Tigrero remarked; "but which of us will consent to go to the hacienda? Neither my comrade nor myself can do so."

"I fancy there is some love story hidden under all this," the Canadian observed cunningly. "I can understand that you would find a difficulty in – "

"What need of further discussion?" Louis interrupted. "With tomorrow's dawn I will go to the hacienda; I undertake to explain to the owner all the dangers that menace him in their fullest details."

"That is agreed on, then, and all is settled," Belhumeur said.

"Then, so soon as our horses have rested, my comrade and myself will return to Guaymas."

"No, you will not, if you please," the Frenchman objected. "I fancy it is proper that you should know the result of the mission I undertake, for it concerns you even more than us. I suspect – "

The Mexican repressed a lively movement of annoyance.

"You are right," he replied; "I did not think of that. I will therefore await your return."

The hunters interchanged a few more remarks, then wrapped themselves in their blankets, lay down on the ground, and speedily fell asleep. The profoundest silence fell on the clearing, which was but dimly lighted by the reddish rays of the expiring fire. The adventurers had been asleep about two hours, when the branches of a shrub were gently parted and a man made his appearance.

He stopped for a moment, seemed to be listening, then crawled without the slightest sound toward the spot where the Tigrero was reposing. It would have been easy to recognise the Black Bear by the light of the fire. The Apache chief plucked his scalping knife from his girdle, and laid it gently on the Tigrero's chest; then casting a parting glance around, to convince himself that the five men slept, he retired with the same precautions, and soon disappeared in the shrub, which closed upon him.