Gustave Aimard
The Trappers of Arkansas: or, The Loyal Heart

PART II.
WAKTEHNO – "he who kills."

CHAPTER I.
LOYAL HEART

The position was completely changed.

The hunters, who a moment before were at the mercy of the Indians, felt they were not only in a manner free, but that they had it in their power to impose hard conditions.

Many guns were levelled in the direction of the Canadian – many arrows were pointed towards him; but, at a signal from Eagle Head, the guns were recovered, and the arrows were returned to the quivers.

The shame of being foiled by two men who audaciously braved them in the middle of their own camp, made the hearts of the Comanches burn with anger. They were sensible of the impossibility of contending with their desperate adversaries. In fact, what could they do against these intrepid wood rangers, who reckoned life as nothing?

Kill them?

But, in falling, they would slaughter without pity the prisoners whom the Comanches were anxious to save. The most strongly developed feeling among redskins is love of family.

For the sake of his children or his wife, the fiercest warrior would not hesitate to make concessions which the most frightful tortures, under other circumstances, could not force from him. Thus, at the sight of his wife and child fallen into the power of Belhumeur, Eagle Head only thought of their safety.

Of all men, Indians are perhaps those who know how to bend with the greatest facility to the exigencies of an unforeseen situation.

The Comanche chief concealed in the depths of his heart the hatred and anger which devoured him. With a movement full of nobleness and disinterestedness, he threw back the blanket which served him as a cloak, and with a calm countenance and a smile on his lips, he approached the hunters.

The latter, long accustomed to the mode of action of the redskins, remained in appearance impassible, awaiting the result of their bold coup de main.

"My pale brothers," the chief said, "are full of wisdom, though their hair is black; they are acquainted with all the stratagems familiar to great warriors; they have the cunning of the beaver and the courage of the lion."

The two men bowed in silence, and Eagle Head continued, —

"As my brother Loyal Heart is in the camp of the Comanches of the great lakes, the hour has at length arrived for dispersing the clouds which have arisen between him and the redskins. Loyal Heart is just; let him explain himself without fear; he is in the presence of renowned chiefs, who will not hesitate to acknowledge their wrongs, if they have any towards him."

"Oh! oh!" the Canadian replied with a sneer; "Eagle Head has quickly changed his sentiments with respect to us; does he believe he can deceive us with vain words?"

A flash of hatred sparkled in the savage eye of the Indian; but, with an extraordinary effort, he succeeded in restraining himself.

Suddenly a man stepped between the interlocutors.

This man was Eshis, the most highly venerated warrior of the tribe.

The old man slowly raised his arm.

"Let my children listen to me," he said; "everything should be cleared up today; the pale hunters will smoke the calumet in council."

"Be it so," said Loyal Heart.

Upon a signal from the Sun the principal chiefs of the tribe came and ranged themselves around him.

Belhumeur had not changed his position; he was ready, at the slightest doubtful gesture, to sacrifice his prisoners.

When the pipe had gone the round of the circle formed near the hunters, the old chief collected himself; then, after bowing to the whites, he spoke as follows: —

"Warriors, I thank the Master of Life for loving us redskins, and for having this day sent us two pale men, who may at length open their hearts. Take courage, young men; do not allow yourselves to be cast down, and drive away the evil spirit far from you. We love you, Loyal Heart; we have heard of your humanity towards Indians. We believe that your heart is open, and that your veins flow clear as the sun. It is true that we Indians have not much sense when the firewater has power over us, and that we may have displeased you in various circumstances. But we hope you will think no more of it; and that, as long as you and we shall be in the prairies, we shall hunt side by side, as warriors who respect and love each other ought to do."

To which Loyal Heart replied: —

"You, chiefs and other members of the nation of the Comanches of the great lakes, whose eyes are opened, I hope you will lend an ear to the words of my mouth. The Master of Life has opened my brain, and caused friendly words to be breathed into my breast. My heart is filled with feelings for you, your wives, and your children; and what I say to you now proceeds from the roots of the feelings of myself and my friend. Never in the prairie has my hatto been closed against the hunters of your nation. Why then do you make war against us? Why should you torture my mother, who is an old woman, and seek to deprive me of life? I am averse to the shedding of Indian blood; for, I repeat to you, that notwithstanding all the ill you have done me, my heart leaps towards you!"

"Wah!" interrupted Eagle Head; "my brother speaks well: but the wound he inflicted upon me is not yet healed."

"My brother is foolish," the hunter replied; "does he think me so unskilful that I could not have killed him, if such had been my intention? I will prove to you what I am capable of, and what I understand by the courage of a warrior. If I make but a sign, that woman and that child will have ceased to live!"

"Yes!" Belhumeur added.

A shudder ran through the ranks of the assembly. Eagle Head felt a cold perspiration pealing on his temples.

Loyal Heart preserved silence for a minute, fixing an indefinable look upon the Indians; then, raising his shoulders with disdain, he threw his weapons at his feet, and crossing his arms upon his breast, he turned towards the Canadian.

"Belhumeur," he said, in a calm, clear voice, "restore these two poor creatures to liberty."

"How can you dream of such a thing?" cried the astonished hunter; "why, that would be your sentence of death!"

"I know it would."

"Well?"

"I beg you to do it."

The Canadian made no reply. He began to whistle between his teeth, and, drawing his knife, he, at a stroke, cut the bonds which confined his captives, who bounded away like jaguars, uttering howlings of joy, to conceal themselves among their friends. He then replaced his knife in his belt, threw down his weapons, dismounted, and went and placed himself resolutely by the side of Loyal Heart.

"What are you doing?" the latter cried. "Make your escape, my friend."

"What! save myself and leave you?" the Canadian replied, carelessly. "No, thank you. As I must die once, I had quite as lief it should be today as hereafter. I shall never, perhaps, find so good an opportunity."

The two men shook hands with an energetic grip.

"Now, chiefs," Loyal Heart said, addressing the Indians in his clear, calm voice, "we are in your power, do with us as you think proper."

The Comanches looked at each other for an instant in a state of stupor. The stoical abnegation of these two men, who, by the bold action of one of them, might not only have escaped, but have dictated terms to them, and who, instead of profiting by this immense advantage, threw down their weapons and delivered themselves into their hands, appeared to them to exceed all instances of heroism celebrated in their nation.

There followed a sufficiently long silence, during which the hearts might be heard beating in the breasts of those men of bronze, who, by their primitive impulsive education, are more apt than might be believed to understand all true feelings, and appreciate all really noble actions.

At length Eagle Head, after a little hesitation, threw down his arms, and approaching the hunters, said, in an agitated voice, which contrasted with the stoical and indifferent appearance he sought in vain to preserve, —

"It is true, warriors of the palefaces, that you have great sense, that it sweetens the words you address to us, and that we all understand you; we know also that truth opens your lips. It is very difficult for us Indians, who have not the reason of the whites, to avoid often committing, without wishing to do so, reprehensible actions; but we hope that Loyal Heart will take the skin from his heart, so that it may be as clear as ours, and that between us the hatchet may be buried so deeply that the sons of the sons of his grandsons, in a thousand moons and a hundred more, will not be able to find it."

And placing his two hands upon the shoulders of the hunter, he kissed him upon the eyes, adding, —

"May Loyal Heart be my brother!"

"Be it so!" said the hunter, rejoiced at this conclusion; "henceforth I shall entertain for the Comanches as much friendship as, up to this time, I have had mistrust."

The Indian chiefs crowded round their new friends, upon whom they lavished, with the ingenuousness that characterizes primitive natures, marks of affection and respect.

The two hunters had been long known in the tribe of the Serpent; their reputation was established. Often at night, around their campfire, their exploits had struck with admiration the young men to whom the old warriors related them.

The reconciliation was frank between Loyal Heart and Eagle Head; there did not remain between them the least trace of their past hatred. The heroism of the white hunter had conquered the animosity of the redskin warrior.

The two men were chatting, peaceably seated at the entrance of a hut, when a great cry was heard, and an Indian, with his features distorted by terror, rushed into the camp.

All crowded round this man to learn his news; but the Indian, perceiving Eagle Head, advanced towards him.

"What is going on?" the chief asked.

The Indian cast a ferocious look at Loyal Heart and Belhumeur, who had no more idea than the others of the cause of this panic.

"Take care that these two palefaces do not escape; we are betrayed," he said, in a broken voice, panting from the speed with which he had come.

"Let my brother explain himself more clearly," said Eagle Head.

"All the white trappers, the long knives of the west, are assembled; they form a war detachment of near a hundred men; they are advancing and spreading themselves in such a manner, as to invest the camp on all sides at once."

"Are you sure these hunters come as enemies?" said the chief again.

"What else can they be?" the Indian warrior replied. "They are creeping like serpents through the high grass, with their guns before them, and their scalping knives in their teeth. Chief, we are betrayed; these men have been sent among us to lull our vigilance to sleep."

Eagle Head and Loyal Heart exchanged a glance of an undefinable expression, and which was an enigma for all but themselves.

The Comanche chief turned towards the Indian.

"Did you see," he said, "who marched at the head of the hunters?"

"Yes, I saw him."

"Was it Amick (Black Elk), the principal guardian of Loyal Heart's traps?"

"Who else could it be?"

"Very well! Retire," said the warrior, dismissing the messenger with a nod of the head; then, addressing the hunter, he asked,

"What is to be done?"

"Nothing," Loyal Heart replied, "this concerns me, my brother must leave me to act alone."

"My brother is master!"

"I will go and meet these hunters; let Eagle Head keep his young men in the camp till my return."

"That shall be done."

Loyal Heart threw his gun upon his shoulder, gave Belhumeur a shake of the hand, and a smile to the Comanche chief, and then directed his course to the forest, at that pace, at once firm and easy, which was habitual to him.

He soon disappeared among the trees.

"Hum;" said Belhumeur, lighting his Indian pipe, and addressing Eagle Head, "you see, chief, that in this world, it is not often a bad speculation, to allow ourselves to be guided by our hearts."

And satisfied beyond measure with this philosophical fancy, which appeared to him quite to the purpose, the Canadian enveloped himself in a thick cloud of smoke.

By the orders of the chief, all the sentinels spread round the outskirts of the camp were called in.

The Indians awaited with impatience the result of Loyal Heart's proceedings.

CHAPTER II.
THE PIRATES

It was evening, at a distance nearly equal from the camp of the Mexicans, and that of the Comanches.

Concealed in a ravine, deeply enclosed between two hills, about forty men were assembled around several fires, dispersed in such a manner that the light of the flames could not betray their presence.

The strange appearance offered by this assemblage of adventurers, with gloomy features, ferocious glances, and strange and mean attire, offered a feature worthy of the crayon of Callot, or the pencil of Salvator Rosa.

These men, a heterogeneous mixture of all the nationalities that people the two worlds, from Russia to China, were the most complete collection of scoundrels that can be imagined; thorough food for the gallows, without faith or law, fire or home, the true outcasts of society, which had rejected them from its bosom, obliged to seek a refuge in the depths of the prairies of the west; even in these deserts they formed a band apart, fighting sometimes against the hunters, sometimes against the Indians, excelling both in cruelty and roguery.

These men were, in a word, what people have agreed to call, the pirates of the prairies.

A denomination which suits them in every way, since, like their brothers of the ocean, hoisting all colours, or rather tramping them all underfoot, they fall upon every traveller who ventures to cross the prairies alone, attack and plunder caravans, and when all other prey escapes them, they hide themselves traitorously in the high grass to entrap the Indians, whom they assassinate in order to gain the premium which the paternal government of the United States gives for every aboriginal scalp, as in France they pay for the head of a wolf.

This troop was commanded by Captain Waktehno, whom we have already had occasion to bring on the scene.

There prevailed at this moment among these bandits an agitation that presaged some mysterious expedition.

Some were cleaning and loading their arms, others mending their clothes; some were smoking and drinking mezcal, others were asleep, folded in their ragged cloaks.

The horses, all saddled and ready for mounting, were fastened to pickets.

At stated distances, sentinels, leaning on their long rifles, silent and motionless as statues of bronze, watched over the safety of all.

The dying flashes of the fires, which were expiring by degrees, threw a reddish reflection upon this picture that gave the pirates a still fiercer aspect.

The captain appeared a prey to extreme anxiety; he walked with long strides among his subordinates, stamping his foot with anger, and stopping at intervals to listen to the sound of the prairies.

The night became darker and darker, the moon had disappeared, the wind moaned hoarsely among the hills, and the pirates had eventually fallen asleep one after another.

The captain alone still watched.

All at once he fancied that he heard at a distance the report of firearms, then a second, and all again was silent.

"What does this mean?" the captain murmured, angrily; "have my rascals allowed themselves to be surprised?"

Then, folding himself carefully in his cloak, he hastily directed his course to the side whence the reports appeared to come.

The darkness was intense; and, notwithstanding his knowledge of the country, the captain could only advance with difficulty through brambles, thistles, and briars, which, at every step, impeded his progress. He was several times obliged to stop and look about him to be sure of his route, from which the turnings and windings necessitated by blocks of rock and thickets, continually diverted him.

During one of these halts, he fancied he could perceive, at a small distance from him, the rustling of leaves and boughs, like that which is produced by the passage of a man or a wild beast through underwood.

The captain concealed himself behind the trunk of a gigantic acajou, drew his pistols, and cocked them, in order to be prepared for whatever might happen; then, bending his head forward, he listened.

All was calm around him; it was that mysterious time of night when Nature seems to sleep, and when all the nameless sounds of the solitude are quieted down, so that, as the Indians express it, nothing is to be heard but silence.

"I must have been deceived," the pirate muttered; and he began to retrace his steps. But, at that moment, the noise was repeated, nearer and more distinctly, and was immediately followed by a stifled groan.

"The devil!" said the captain; "this begins to be interesting: I must clear this up."

After a hasty movement forward of a few steps, he saw, gliding along, at a short distance from him, the scarcely distinguishable shadow of a man. This person, whoever he was, seemed to walk with difficulty; he staggered at every step, and stopped at intervals, as if to recover strength. He frequently allowed a smothered complaint to escape him. The captain sprang forward, to bar his passage. When the unknown perceived him, he uttered a cry of terror, and fell on his knees, murmuring in a voice broken by terror —

"Pardon! pardon! do not kill me!"

"Why!" exclaimed the astonished captain, "it is the Babbler! Who the devil has treated him in this fashion?"

And he bent over him.

It was indeed the guide.

He had fainted.

"Plague stifle the fool!" the captain muttered, with vexation. "What's the use of asking him anything now?"

But the pirate was a man of resources; he replaced his pistols in his belt, and raising the wounded man, he threw him over his shoulders.

Loaded with his burden, which scarcely seemed to lessen his speed, he hastily returned to the camp by the way he had left it.

He deposited the guide close to a half-extinguished brazier, into which he threw an armful of dry wood to revive it. A clear blaze soon enabled him to examine the man who lay senseless at his feet.

The features of the Babbler were livid, a cold perspiration stood in drops upon his temples, and the blood flowed in abundance from a wound in his breast.

"Cascaras!" the captain muttered; "here is a poor devil who has got his business done! I hope before he departs he will, however, tell me who has done him this favour, and what has become of Kennedy!"

Like all the wood rangers, the captain possessed a small practical knowledge of medicine; it was nothing new to him to dress a shot wound.

Thanks to the attentions he lavished on the bandit, the latter was not long in coming to himself. He breathed a heavy sigh, opened his haggard eyes, but remained for some time unable to speak; after several fruitless efforts, however, aided by the captain, he succeeded in sitting up, and shaking his head repeatedly, he murmured in a low, broken voice:

"All is lost, captain! Our plan has failed!"

"A thousand thunders!" the captain cried, stamping his feet with rage. "How has this happened?"

"The girl is a demon!" the guide replied, whose difficult respiration and gradually weaker voice showed that he had but a few minutes to live.

"If you can manage, anyhow," said the captain, who had understood nothing by the exclamation of the wounded man, "tell me how things have gone on, and who is your assassin, that I may avenge you."

A sinister smile painfully crossed the violet lips of the guide.

"The name of my assassin?" he said, in an ironical tone.

"Yes."

"Well, her name is Doña Luz."

"Doña Luz!" the captain cried, starting with surprise, "impossible!"

"Listen," the guide resumed; "my moments are numbered; I shall soon be a dead man. In my position people don't lie. Let me speak without interrupting me. I don't know whether I shall have time to tell you all, before I go to render my account to Him who knows everything."

"Speak!" said the captain.

And, as the voice of the wounded man became weaker and weaker, he went down upon his knees close to him, in order to lose none of his words.

The guide closed his eyes, collected himself for a few seconds, and then, with great effort, said, —

"Give me some brandy?"

"You must be mad! brandy will kill you!"

The wounded man shook his head.

"It will give me the necessary strength to enable me to tell you all I have to say. Am I not already half dead!"

"That's true," muttered the captain.

"Do not hesitate, then," the wounded man replied, who had heard him; "time presses; I have important things to inform you of."

"If it must be so, it must," said the captain, after a moment's hesitation; and taking his gourd, he applied it to the lips of the guide.

The latter drank eagerly and copiously; a feverish flush coloured his hollow cheeks, his almost extinguished eyes flashed and gleamed with an unnatural fire.

"Now," he said, in a firm and pretty loud voice, "do not interrupt me: when you see me become weak, let me drink again. I, perhaps, shall have time to tell you all."

The captain made a sign of assent, and the Babbler began.

His recital was rendered long by the repeated weakness with which he was seized; when it was terminated, he added, —

"You see, that this woman is, as I have told you, a demon; she has killed both Kennedy and me. Renounce the capture of her, captain; she is game you cannot bring down; you will never get possession of her."

"Hum!" said the captain, knitting his brows; "do you imagine that I give up my projects in that fashion?"

"I wish you luck, then," the guide murmured; "as for me, my business is done – my account is settled. Adieu, captain!" he added, with a strange sort of smile, "I am going to all the devils – we shall meet again yonder."

And he sank back.

The captain endeavoured to raise him again; but he was dead.

"A good journey to you!" he muttered, carelessly. He took the corpse upon his shoulders, carried it into a thicket, in the middle of which he made a hole, and placed it in it; then, this operation being achieved in a few minutes, he returned to the fire, wrapped himself in his cloak, stretched himself on the sod, with his feet towards the brazier, and fell asleep, saying, —

"In a few hours it will be light, and we will than see what we have to do."

Bandits do not sleep late. At sunrise all were on the alert in the camp of the pirates; everyone was preparing for departure.

The captain, far from renouncing his projects, had, on the contrary, determined to hasten the execution of them, so as not to allow the Mexicans time to find among the white trappers of the prairies auxiliaries who might render success impossible.

As soon as he was certain that the orders he had issued were understood, the captain gave the signal for departure. The troop set off in the Indian fashion, that is to say, literally turning their backs towards the point to which they directed their course. When they arrived at a spot which appeared to present to them the security they desired, the pirates dismounted; the horses were confided to a few determined men, and the rest, crawling along upon the ground like a swarm of vipers, or jumping from branch to branch, and from tree to tree, advanced, with all the customary precautions, towards the camp of the Mexicans.