The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER XI.

  CONVERSATION.

  Valentine Guillois, whom we have already introduced to the reader inprevious works[1], had inhabited, or, to speak more correctly, traversedthe vast solitudes of Mexico and Texas during the past five or sixyears. We saw him just now accompanied by the Araucano chief. These twomen were the boldest hunters on the frontier. At times, when they hadcollected an ample harvest of furs, they went to sell them in thevillages, renewed their stock of powder and ball, purchased a fewindispensable articles, and then returned to the desert.

  Now and then they engaged themselves for a week, or even a fortnight,with the proprietors of the haciendas, to free them from the wild beaststhat desolated their herds; but so soon as the ferocious animals weredestroyed, and the reward obtained, no matter the brilliancy of theoffers made them by the landowners, the two men threw their rifles ontheir shoulders and went off.

  No one knew who they were, or whence they came. Valentine and his friendmaintained the most complete silence as to the events of their lifewhich had preceded their appearance in these parts. Only one thing hadbetrayed the nationality of Valentine, whom his comrade calledKoutonepi, a word belonging to the language of the Aucas, and signifying"The Valiant." On his chest the hunter wore the cross of the Legion ofHonor. The deeds of every description performed by these hunters wereincalculable, and their stories were the delight of the frontierdwellers during the winter night. The number of tigers they had killedwas no longer counted.

  Chance had one day made them acquainted with Don Miguel Zarate understrange circumstances, and since then an uninterrupted friendship hadbeen maintained between them. Don Miguel, during a tempestuous night,namely, had only owed his life to the accuracy of Valentine's aim, whosent a bullet through the head of the Mexican's horse at the momentwhen, mad with terror, and no longer obeying the bridle, it was on thepoint of leaping into an abyss with its master. Don Miguel had sworneternal gratitude to his saviour.

  Valentine and Curumilla had made themselves the tutors of thehacendero's children, who, for their part, felt a deep friendship forthe hunters. Don Pablo had frequently made long hunting parties in thedesert with them; and it was to them he owed the certainty of his aim,his skill in handling weapons, and his knack in taming horses.

  No secrets existed between Don Miguel and the hunters: they read in hismind as in an ever open book. They were the disinterested confidants ofhis plans; for these rude wood rangers esteemed him, and only requiredfor themselves one thing--the liberty of the desert. Still, despite thesympathy and friendship which so closely connected these differentpersons, and the confidence which formed the basis of that friendship,Don Miguel and his children had never been able to obtain from thehunters information as to the events that had passed prior to theirarrival in this country.

  Frequently Don Miguel, impelled, not by curiosity, but merely by theinterest he felt in them, had tried, by words cleverly thrown into theconversation, to give them an opening for confidence; but Valentine hadalways repelled those hints, though cleverly enough for Don Miguel notto feel offended by this want of confidence. With Curumilla they hadbeen even more simple. Wrapped in his Indian stoicism, intrenched in hishabitual sullenness, he was wont to answer all questions by a shake ofthe head, but nothing further.

  At length, weary of the attempt, the hacendero and his family had givenup trying to read those secrets which their friends seemed obstinatelydetermined to keep from them. Still the friendship subsisting betweenthem had not grown cold in consequence, and it was always with equalpleasure that Don Miguel met the hunters again after a lengthened ramblein the prairies, which kept them away from his house for whole months ata time.

  The hunter and the Mexican were seated by the fire, while Curumilla,armed with his scalping knife, was busy flaying the two jaguars soskillfully killed by Don Miguel, and which were magnificent brutes.

  "Eh, _compadre!_" Don Miguel said with a laugh; "I was beginning to losepatience, and fancy you had forgotten the meeting you had yourself givenme."

  "I never forgot anything, as you know," Valentine answered seriously;"and if I did not arrive sooner, it was because the road is long from myjacal to this clearing."

  "Heaven forbid that I should reproach you, my friend! Still I confess toyou that the prospect of passing the night alone in this forest onlyslightly pleased me, and I should have been off had you not arrivedbefore sunset."

  "You would have done wrong, Don Miguel: what I have to tell you is ofthe utmost importance to you. Who knows what the result might have beenhad I not been able to warn you?"

  "You alarm me, my friend."

  "I will explain. In the first place let me tell you that you committed,a few days back, a grave imprudence, whose consequences threaten to bemost serious for you."

  "What is it?"

  "I said one, but ought to have said two."

  "I am waiting till you think proper to express yourself more clearly,"Don Miguel said with a slight tinge of impatience, "before I answer."

  "You have quarrelled with a North American bandit."

  "Red Cedar."

  "Yes; and when you had him in your power you let him escape, instead ofkilling him out and out."

  "That is true, and I was wrong. What would you? The villain has as tougha life as an alligator. But be at ease. If ever he fall into my handsagain, I swear that I will not miss him."

  "In the meanwhile you did do so--that is the evil."

  "Why so?"

  "You will understand me. This man is one of those villains, the scum ofthe United States, too many of whom have lived on the frontier duringthe last few years. I do not know how he contrived to deceive your NewYork agent; but he gained his confidence so cleverly that the lattertold him all the secrets he knew about your enterprise."

  "He told me so himself."

  "Very good. It was then, I suppose, that you stabbed him?"

  "Yes, and at the same time I plucked out his claws; that is to say, Iseized the letters he held, and which might compromise me."

  "A mistake. This man is too thorough-paced a scoundrel not to foreseeall the chances of his treason. He had a last letter, the most importantof all; and that you did not take from him."

  "I took three."

  "Yes, but there were four. As the last, however, in itself was worth asmuch as the other three, he always wore it about him in a leathern baghung round his neck by a steel chain; you did not dream of looking forthat."

  "But what importance can this letter, I do not even remember writing,possess, that you should attach such weight to it?"

  "It is merely the agreement drawn up between yourself, General Ibanez,and Mr. Wood, and bearing your three signatures."

  "_Con mil demonios!_" the hacendero exclaimed in terror. "In that caseI am lost; for if this man really possesses such a document, he will notfail to employ it in order to be revenged on me."

  "Nothing is lost so long as a man's heart beats in his breast, DonMiguel. The position is critical, I allow, but I have saved myself insituations far more desperate than the one you are now in."

  "What is to be done?"

  "Red Cedar has been about again for two days. His first care, so soon ashe could sit a horse, was to go to Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico,and denounce you to the Governor. That has nothing to surprise you fromsuch a man."

  "Then I can only fly as speedily as I can?"

  "Wait. Every man has in his heart at least one of the seven deadly sinsas a bait for the demon."

  "What are you driving at?"

  "You will see. Fortunately for us, Red Cedar has them all seven, Ibelieve, in the finest stage of development. Avarice, before all, hasreached its acme with him."

  "Well?"

  "This happened. Our man denounced you to the governor as a conspirator,etc., but was careful not to give up the proofs he possessed in supportof the denunciation at the outset. When General Isturitz, the governor,asked him for these proofs, he answered that he was ready to supply themin exchange for th
e sum of one hundred thousand piastres in gold."

  "Ah!" the hacendero said, with a breath of relief, "and what didIsturitz say?"

  "The general is one of your most inveterate enemies, I grant, and hewould give a good deal for the pleasure of having you shot."

  "That is true."

  "Yes, but still the sum appeared to him, as it really is, exorbitant,the more so as he would have to pay it all himself, as the governmentdoes not recognise transactions of that nature."

  "Well, what did Red Cedar do then?"

  "He did not allow himself beaten; on the contrary, he told the generalhe would give him a week to reflect, and quietly left the Cabildo."

  "Hum! And on what day was this visit paid?"

  "Yesterday morning; so that you have six days still left for action."

  "Six days--that is very little."

  "Eh?" the Frenchman said, with a shrug of his shoulders impossible todescribe. "In my country--"

  "Yes, but you are Frenchmen."

  "That is true: hence I allow you twice the time we should require. Come,let us put joking aside. You are a man of more than common energy; youreally wish the welfare of your country, so do not let yourself becrushed by the first reverse. Who knows but that it may all be for thebest?"

  "Ah, my friend, I am alone! General Ibanez, who alone could help me inthis critical affair, is fifty leagues off. What can I do? Nothing."

  "All. I foresaw your objection. Eagle-wing, the Chief of the Coras, hasgone from me to warn the general. You know with what speed Indianstravel; so he will bring us the general in a few hours, I feelconvinced."

  Don Miguel regarded the hunter with mingled admiration and respect.

  "You have done that, my friend?" he said to him as he warmly pressed hishand.

  "By Jove!" Valentine said, gaily, "I have done something else too. Whenthe time arrives I will tell you what it is. But let us not lose anhour. What do you intend to do for the present?"

  "Act."

  "Good: that is the way I like to hear you talk."

  "Yes, but I must first come to an understanding with the general."

  "That is true; but it is the least thing," Valentine answered, as helooked skyward, and attentively consulted the position of the stars. "Itis now eight o'clock. Eagle-wing and the man he brings must be atmidnight at the entrance of the _Canyon del Buitre_. We have four hoursbefore us, and that is more than we require, as we have only ten leaguesto go."

  "Let us go, let us go!" Don Miguel exclaimed eagerly.

  "Wait a moment; there is no such hurry. Don't be alarmed; we shallarrive in time."

  He then turned to Curumilla, and said to him in Araucano a few wordswhich the hacendero did not understand. The Indian rose withoutreplying, and disappeared in the density of the forest.

  "You know," Valentine continued, "that I prefer, through habit,travelling on foot; still, as under present circumstances minutes areprecious, and we must not lose them, I have provided two horses."

  "You think of everything, my friend."

  "Yes, when I have to act for those I love," Valentine answered with aretrospective sigh.

  There was a moment's silence between the two men, and at the end ofscarce a quarter of an hour there was a noise in the shrubs, thebranches parted, and Curumilla re-entered the clearing, holding twohorses by the bridle. These noble animals, which were nearly untamed_mustangs_, bore a striking resemblance to the steeds of the Apaches, onwhose territory our friends now were. They were literally covered witheagle plumes, beads, and ribbons, while long red and white spotscompleted their disguise, and rendered it almost impossible to recognisethem.

  "Mount!" Don Miguel exclaimed so soon as he saw them. "Time is slippingaway."

  "One word yet," Valentine remarked.

  "Speak."

  "You still have as chaplain a certain monk by the name of 'FrayAmbrosio.'"

  "Yes."

  "Take care of that man--he betrays you."

  "You believe it?"

  "I am sure of it."

  "Good! I will remember."

  "All right. Now we will be off," Valentine said, as he buried his spursin his horse's flanks.

  And the three horsemen rushed into the darkness with headlong speed.

  [1] "Tiger-Slayer," etc. Same publishers.