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

CHAPTER XIII.
THE BEE-HUNT

The sun was scarcely above the horizon, when the general, whose horse was already saddled, left the reed cabin which served him as a sleeping apartment, and prepared to set out on his usual daily ride. At the moment when he was putting his foot in the stirrup, a little hand lifted the curtain of the tent, and Doña Luz appeared.

"Oh! oh! what, up already!" said the general, smiling. "So much the better, dear child. I shall be able to have a kiss before I set out; and that perhaps may bring me good luck," he added, stifling a sigh.

"You will not go thus, uncle," she replied, presenting her cheek, upon which he placed a kiss.

"Why not, fair lady?" he asked gaily.

"Because I wish you to partake of something I have prepared for you before you mount on horseback; you cannot refuse me, can you, dear uncle?" she said, with that coaxing smile of spoilt children which delights the hearts of old men.

"No, certainly not, dear child, upon condition that the breakfast you offer me so gracefully be not delayed. I am rather in a hurry."

"I only ask for a few minutes," she replied, returning to the tent.

"For a few minutes be it then," said he, following her.

The young girl clapped her hands with joy.

In the twinkling of an eye, the breakfast was ready, and the general at table with his niece. Whilst assisting her uncle, and taking great care that he wanted for nothing, the young girl looked at him from time to time in an embarrassed manner, and did it so evidently, that the old soldier ended by observing it.

"It is my opinion," he said, laying down his knife and fork, and looking at her earnestly, "that you have something to ask me, Lucita; you know very well that I am not accustomed to refuse you anything."

"That is true, dear uncle; but this time, I am afraid, you will be more difficult to be prevailed upon."

"Ah! ah!" the general said, gaily; "it must be something serious, then!"

"Quite the contrary, uncle; and yet, I confess, I am afraid you will refuse me."

"Speak, notwithstanding, my child," said the old soldier; "speak without fear; when you have told me what this mighty affair is, I will soon answer you."

"Well, uncle," the girl said, blushing, but determined on her purpose, "I am compelled to say that the residence in the camp has nothing agreeable about it."

"I can conceive that, my child; but what do you wish me to do to make it otherwise?"

"Everything."

"How so, dear?"

"Nay, dear, uncle, if you were always here, it would not be dull; I should have your company."

"What you say is very amiable; but, as you know I am absent every morning, I cannot be here, and —

"That is exactly where the difficulty lies."

"That is true."

"But, if you were willing, it could be easily removed."

"Do you think so?"

"I am sure of it."

"Well, I don't see too clearly how, unless I remained always with you, and that is impossible."

"Oh; there are other means that would arrange the whole affair."

"Nonsense!"

"Yes, uncle, and very simple means too."

"Well, then, darling, what are these means?"

"You will not scold me, uncle?"

"Silly child! do I ever scold you?"

"That is true! You are so kind."

"Come, then; speak out, little pet?"

"Well, uncle, these means – "

"These means are?"

"That you should take me with you every morning."

"Oh! oh!" said the general, whose brows became contracted; "do you know what you ask me, my dear child?"

"Why, a very natural thing, uncle, as I think."

The general made no reply; he reflected. The girl watched anxiously the fugitive traces of his thoughts upon his countenance.

At the end of a few instants, he raised his head.

"Well, perhaps," he murmured, "it would be better so;" and fixing a piercing look upon his niece, he said, "it would give you pleasure, then, to accompany me?"

"Yes, uncle, yes!" she replied.

"Well, then, get ready, my dear child; henceforth you shall accompany me in my excursions."

She arose from her seat with a bound, kissed her uncle warmly, and gave orders for her horse to be saddled.

A quarter of an hour later, Doña Luz and her uncle, preceded by the Babbler, and followed by two lanceros, quitted the camp, and plunged into the forest.

"Which way would you wish to direct your course, today, general?" the guide asked.

"Conduct me to the huts of those trappers you spoke of yesterday."

The guide bowed in sign of obedience. The little party advanced slowly and with some difficulty along a scarcely traced path, where, at every step, the horses became entangled in the creeping plants, or stumbled over the roots of trees above the level of the ground.

Doña Luz was gay and happy. Perhaps in these excursions she might meet with Loyal Heart.

The Babbler, who was a few paces in advance, suddenly uttered a cry.

"Eh!" said the general, "what extraordinary thing has happened, Master Babbler, to induce you to speak?"

"The bees, señor."

"What! bees! are there bees here?"

"Yes; but lately only."

"How only lately?"

"Why, you know, of course, that bees were brought into America by the whites."

"That, I know. How is it, then, they are met with here?"

"Nothing more simple; the bees are the advanced sentinels of the whites. In proportion as the whites penetrate into the interior of America, the bees go forward to trace the route for them, and point out the clearings. Their appearance in an uninhabited country always presages the arrival of a colony of pioneers or squatters."

"That is something strange," the general murmured; "are you sure of what you are telling me?"

"Oh! quite sure, señor; the fact is well known to all Indians, they are not mistaken in it, be assured; for as soon as they see the bees arrive, they retreat."

"That is truly singular."

"The honey must be very good," said Doña Luz.

"Excellent, señorita, and if you wish for it, nothing is more easy than to get it."

"Get some, then," said the general.

The guide, who some moments before had placed a bait for the bees upon the bushes, to which, with his piercing sight, he had already seen several bees attracted, made a sign to those behind him to stop.

The bees had, in fact, lighted upon the bait, and were examining it all over; when they had made their provision, they rose very high into the air, and then took flight in a direct line with the velocity of a cannon ball.

The guide carefully watched the direction they took, and making a sign to the general, he sprang after them, followed by the whole party, clearing themselves a way through interlaced roots, fallen trees, bushes and briars, their eyes directed all the while towards the sky.

In this fashion they never lost sight of the laden bees, and after a difficult pursuit of an hour, they saw them arrive at their nest, constructed in the hollow of a dead ebony tree; after buzzing for a moment, they entered a hole situated at more than eighty feet from the ground.

Then the guide, after having warned his companions to keep at a respectful distance, in order to be out of the way of the falling tree and the vengeance of its inhabitants, seized his axe and attacked the ebony vigorously near the base.

The bees did not seem at all alarmed by the strokes of the axe; they continued going in and out, carrying on their industrial labours in full security. A violent cracking even, which announced the splitting of the trunk, did not divert them from their occupations.

At length the tree fell, with a horrible crash, opening the whole of its length, and leaving the accumulated treasures of the community exposed to view.

The guide immediately seized a bundle of hay which he had prepared, and to which he set fire to defend himself from the bees.

But they attacked nobody; they did not seek to avenge themselves. The poor creatures were stupefied; they ran and flew about in all directions round their destroyed empire, without thinking of anything but how to account for this unlooked-for catastrophe.

Then the guide and the lanceros set to work with spoons and knives to get out the comb and put it into the wineskins.

Some of the comb was of a deep brown, and of ancient date, other parts were of a beautiful white; the honey in the cells was almost limpid.

Whilst they were hastening to get possession of the best combs, they saw arrive on the wing from all points of the horizon numberless swarms of honey bees, who, plunging into the broken cells, loaded themselves, whilst the ex-proprietors of the hive, dull and stupefied, looked on, without seeking to save the least morsel, at the robbery of their honey.

It is impossible to describe the astonishment of the bees that were absent at the moment of the catastrophe, as they arrived at their late home with their cargoes; they described circles in the air round the place the tree had occupied, astonished to find it empty; at length, however they seemed to comprehend their disaster, and collected in groups upon the dried branch of a neighbouring tree, appearing to contemplate thence the fallen ruin, and to lament the destruction of their empire.

Doña Luz felt affected in spite of herself, at the trouble of these poor creatures.

"Let us go," she said, "I repent of having wished for honey; my greediness has made too many unhappy."

"Let us be gone," said the general, smiling; "leave them these few combs."

"Oh!" said the guide, shrugging his shoulders, "they will soon be carried away by the vermin."

"The vermin! What vermin do you mean?" the general asked.

"Oh! the raccoons, the opossums, but particularly the bears."

"The bears?" said Doña Luz.

"Oh, señorita!" the guide replied, "they are the cleverest vermin in the world in discovering a tree of bees, and getting their share of the honey."

"Do they like honey, then?" said the lady, with excited curiosity.

"Why, they are mad after it, señorita," the guide, who really seemed to relax of his cynical humour, rejoined. "Imagine how greedy they are after it, when they will gnaw a tree for weeks, until they succeed in making a hole large enough to put their paws in, and then they carry off honey and bees, without taking the trouble to choose."

"Now," said the general, "let us resume our route, and seek the residence of the trappers."

"Oh! we shall soon be there, señor," replied the guide; "the great Canadian river is within a few paces of us, and trappers are established all along the streams which flow into it."

The little party proceeded on their way again.

The bee hunt had left an impression of sadness on the mind of the young lady, which, although unconscious of it, she could not overcome. Those poor little creatures, so gentle and so industrious, attacked and ruined for a caprice, grieved her, and, in spite, of herself, made her thoughtful.

Her uncle perceived this disposition of her mind.

"Dear child!" he said, "what is passing in your little head? You are no longer so gay as when we set out; whence comes this sudden change?"

"Good heavens! uncle, do not let that disturb you; I am, like other young girls, rather wild and whimsical; this bee hunt, from which I promised myself so much pleasure, has left a degree of sadness behind it that I cannot get rid of."

"Happy child!" the general murmured, "whom so futile a cause has still the power to trouble. God grant, darling, that you may continue long in that disposition, and that greater and more real troubles may never reach you!"

"My kind uncle, shall I not always be happy while near you?"

"Alas! my child, who knows whether God may permit me to watch over you long!"

"Do not say so, uncle; I hope we have many years to pass together."

The general only responded to this hope by a sigh.

"Uncle," the girl resumed, after a few moments, "do you not find that the aspect of the grand and sublime nature which surrounds us has something striking in it that ennobles our ideas, elevates the soul, and renders man better? How happy must they be who live in these boundless deserts!"

The general looked at her with astonishment.

"Whence come these thoughts to your mind, dear child?" he said.

"I do not know, uncle," she replied, timidly; "I am but an ignorant girl, whose life, still so short, has flowed on to this moment calm and peaceful, under your protection. And yet there are moments when it seems to me that I should be happy to live in these vast deserts."

The general, surprised, and inwardly charmed at the ingenuous frankness of his niece, was preparing to answer her, when the guide, suddenly coming up to them, made a sign to command silence, by saying, in a voice as low as a breath, —

"A man!"

CHAPTER XIV.
BLACK ELK

Everyone stopped.

In the desert, this word man almost always means an enemy. Man in the prairies is more dreaded by his fellow than the most ferocious wild beast. A man is a rival, a forced associate, who, by the right of being the stronger, comes to share with the first occupant, and often, if we may not say always, strives to deprive him of the fruits of his thankless labour.

Thus, whites, Indians, or half-breeds, when they meet in the prairies, salute each other with eye on the watch, ears open, and the finger on the trigger of the rifle.

At this cry of a man, the general and the lanceros, at all hazards, prepared against a sudden attack by cocking their guns, and concealing themselves as much as possible behind the bushes.

At fifty paces before them stood an individual, who, the butt on the ground, and his two hands leaning on the barrel of a long rifle, was observing them attentively.

He was a man of lofty stature, with energetic features and a frank, determined look. His long hair, arranged with care, was plaited, mingled with otter skins and ribbons of various colours. A hunting blouse of ornamented leather fell to his knees; gaiters of a singular cut, ornamented with strings, fringes, and a profusion of little bells covered his legs; his shoes consisted of a pair of superb moccasins, embroidered with false pearls.

A scarlet blanket hung from his shoulders, and was fastened round his middle by a red belt, through which were passed two pistols, a knife, and an Indian pipe.

His rifle was profusely decorated with vermilion and little copper nails.

At a few paces from him his horse was browsing on the mast of the trees.

Like its master, it was equipped in the most fantastic manner, spotted and striped with vermilion, the reins and crupper ornamented with beads and bunches of ribbon, while its head, mane, and tail, were abundantly decorated with eagle's feathers floating in the wind.

At sight of this personage the general could not restrain a cry of surprise.

"To what Indian tribe does this man belong?" he asked the guide.

"To none," the latter replied.

"How, to none?"

"No; he is a white trapper."

"And so dressed?"

The guide shrugged his shoulders.

"We are in the prairies;" he said.

"That is true," the general murmured.

In the meantime, the individual we have described, tired, no doubt, of the hesitation of the little party before him, and wishing to know what their disposition was, resolutely accosted them.

"Eh! eh!" he said in English, "Who the devil are you – and what are you seeking here?"

"Caramba!" the general replied, throwing his gun behind him, and ordering his people to do the same; "we are travellers, fatigued with a long journey; the sun is hot, and we ask permission to rest a short time in your rancho."

These words being spoken in Spanish, the trapper replied in the same language, —

"Approach without fear; Black Elk is a good sort of fellow when people do not seek to thwart him; you shall share the little he possesses, and much good may it do you."

At the name of Black Elk the guide could not repress a movement of terror; he wished even to say a few words, but he had not time, for the hunter, throwing his gun upon his shoulder, and leaping into his saddle with a bound, advanced towards the Mexicans.

"My rancho is a few paces from this spot," said he to the general; "if the señorita is inclined to taste the well-seasoned hump of a buffalo, I am in a position to offer her that piece of politeness."

"I thank you, caballero," the young lady replied, with a smile; "but I confess that at this moment I stand in more need of repose than anything else."

"Everything will come in its time," the trapper said sententiously. "Permit me, for a few moments, to take the place of your guide."

"We are at your orders," said the general; "go on, we will follow you."

"Forward! then," said the trapper, placing himself at the head of the little troop.

At this moment his eyes fell by chance upon the guide – his thick eyebrows contracted. "Hum!" he muttered to himself, "what does this mean? We shall see," he added.

And without taking further notice of the man, without appearing to recognise him, he gave the signal for departure.

After riding for some time silently along the banks of a moderately wide rivulet, the trapper made a sharp turn, and departing from the stream suddenly, plunged again into the forest.

"I crave your pardon," he said, "for making you turn out of your way; but this is a beaver pond, and I do not wish to frighten them."

"Oh!" the young lady cried, "how delighted I should be to see those industrious animals at work!"

The trapper stopped.

"Nothing more easy, señorita," he said, "if you will follow me, while your companions remain here, and wait for us."

"Yes, yes!" Doña Luz replied eagerly; but checking herself all at once, added, "Oh, pardon me, dear uncle."

The general cast a look at the trapper.

"Go, my child," he said, "we will wait for you here."

"Thank you, uncle," the young girl remarked joyfully, as she leaped from her horse.

"I will be answerable for her," the trapper said frankly; "fear nothing."

"I fear nothing when trusting her to your care, my friend," the general replied.

"Thanks!" And making a sign to Doña Luz, Black Elk disappeared with her among the bushes and trees.

When they had gone some distance, the trapper stopped. After listening and looking around him on all sides, he stooped towards the young girl, and laying his hand lightly on her right arm, said, —

"Listen!"

Doña Luz stood still, uneasy and trembling.

The trapper perceived her agitation.

"Be not afraid," he rejoined; "I am an honest man; you are in as much safety here alone with me in this desert as if you were in the Cathedral of Mexico, at the foot of the high altar."

The young girl cast a furtive glance at the trapper. In spite of his singular costume, his face wore such an expression of frankness, his eye was so soft and limpid, when fixed upon her, that she felt completely reassured.

"Speak," she said.

"You belong," the trapper resumed, "I perceive now, to that party of strangers who, for some days past, have been exploring the prairies in every direction. Do you not?"

"Yes."

"Among you is a sort of madman, who wears blue spectacles and a white wig, and who amuses himself – for what purpose I cannot tell – with making a provision of herbs and stones, instead of trying, like a brave hunter, to trap a beaver, or knock over a deer."

"I know the man you speak of; he, as you suppose, forms part of our troop; he is a very learned physician."

"I know he is; he told me so himself. He often comes this way. We are very good friends. By means of a powder, which he persuaded me to take, he completely checked a fever which had tormented me two months, and of which I could not get rid."

"Indeed! I am happy to hear of such a result."

"I should like to do something for you, to show my gratitude for that service."

"I thank you, my friend, but I cannot see anything in which you can be useful to me, unless it be in showing me the beavers."

The trapper shook his head.

"Perhaps in something else," he said, "and that much sooner than you may fancy. Listen to me attentively, señorita. I am but a poor man; but here in the prairie, we know many things that God reveals to us, because we live face to face with Him. I will give you a piece of good advice. That man who serves you as a guide is an arrant scoundrel, and is known as such throughout all the prairies of the West. I am very much deceived if he will not lead you into some ambush. There is no lack here of plenty of rogues with whom he may lay plans to destroy you, or least, rob you."

"Are you sure of what you say?" the girl exclaimed, terrified at words which coincided so strangely with what Loyal Heart had said to her.

"I am as sure as a man can be who affirms a thing of which he has no proof; that is to say, after the antecedents of the Babbler everything of the sort must be expected from him. Believe me, if he has not already betrayed you, it will not be long before he will."

"Good God! I will go and warn my uncle."

"Beware of doing that! that would ruin all! The people with whom your guide will soon be in collusion, if he be not so already, are numerous, determined, and thoroughly acquainted with the prairie."

"What is to be done, then?" the young lady asked in great alarm.

"Nothing. Wait; and, without appearing to do so, carefully watch all your guide's proceedings."

"But – "

"You must be sure," the trapper interrupted, "that if I lead you to mistrust him, it is not with a view of deserting you when the moment comes for requiring my help."

"Oh! I believe that."

"Well, then, this is what you must do: as soon as you are certain that your guide has betrayed you, send your old mad doctor to me, – you can trust him, can you not?"

"Entirely!"

"Very well. Then, as I have said, you must send him to me, charging him only to say this to me. 'Black Elk' – I am Black Elk."

"I know you are; you told us so."

"That is right. He will say to me, 'Black Elk, the hour is come,' and nothing else. Shall you remember these words?"

"Perfectly. Only, I do not clearly understand how that can serve us."

The trapper smiled in a mysterious manner.

"Hum!" he said, after a short pause, "these few words will bring to you, in two hours, fifty men, the bravest in the prairies, – men who, at a signal from their leader, would allow themselves to be killed rather than leave you in the hands of those who will have possession of you, if what I expect should happen."

There was a moment of silence, – Doña Luz appeared very thoughtful.

The trapper smiled.

"Do not be surprised at the warm interest I take in you," he said, "a man who has entire power over me, has made me swear to watch over you, during an absence he has been compelled to make."

"What do you mean by that?" she said with awakened curiosity. "And who is this man?"

"He is a hunter who commands all the white trappers of the prairies. Knowing that you had the Babbler for a guide, he suspects that the half-breed intends to draw you into some snare?

"But the name of the man?" she cried, in an anxious, excited tone.

"Loyal Heart. Will you have confidence in me now?"

"Thanks, my friend, thanks!" the young lady replied, with great emotion. "I will not forget your instructions; and when the moment comes – if unfortunately it should come – I will not hesitate to remind you of your promise."

"And you will do well, señorita, because it will then be the only means of safety left you. You understand me perfectly, and all is well. Be sure to keep our conversation to yourself. Above all, do not appear to have any secret understanding with me; that devil of a half-breed is as cunning as a beaver; if he suspect anything, he will slip through your fingers, like the viper he is."

"Be satisfied; I will be mute."

"Now let us pursue our way to the Beaver Pond. Loyal Heart watches over you."

"He has already saved our lives on the occasion of the conflagration of the prairies," she said with emotion.

"Ah! ah!" the trapper murmured, fixing his eyes upon her with a singular expression, "everything is for the best, then." And he added in a loud voice: "Be without fear, señorita, if you follow strictly the advice I have given you, no evil will happen to you in the prairies, whatever be the treachery to which you may be exposed."

"Oh!" the girl cried, with great warmth, "in the hour of danger I will not hesitate to have recourse to you – I swear I will not!"

"That is settled," said the Black Elk, smiling; "now let us go and see the beavers."

They resumed their walk, and at the end of a few minutes arrived on the verge of the forest. The trapper then stopped, and making a sign to the young girl to be motionless, turned towards her, and whispered —

"Look!"