Les trappeurs de l'Arkansas. English

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER V.

  THE COMANCHES.

  Loyal Heart and Belhumeur, concealed among the tufted branches of thecork tree, were observing the Comanches.

  The Indians depended upon the vigilance of their sentinels. Far fromsuspecting that their enemies were so near them and were watching theirmotions, they crouched or lay around the fires, eating or smokingcarelessly.

  These savages, to the number of twenty-five, were dressed in theirbuffalo robes, and painted in the most varied and fantastic manner. Mostof them had their faces covered with vermillion, others were entirelyblack, with a long white stripe upon each cheek; they wore theirbucklers on their backs, with their bows and arrows, and near them laytheir guns.

  By the number of wolves' tails fastened to their moccasins, and whichdragged on the ground behind them, it was easy to perceive that theywere all picked warriors, renowned in their tribe.

  At some paces from the group, Eagle Head leant motionless against atree. With his arms crossed on his breast, and leaning gently forward,he seemed to be listening to vague sounds, perceptible to himself alone.

  Eagle Head was an Osage Indian; the Comanches had adopted him when quiteyoung, but he had always preserved the costume and manners of his nation.

  He was, at most, twenty-eight years of age, nearly six feet high, andhis large limbs, upon which enormous muscles developed themselves,denoted extraordinary strength.

  Differing in this respect from his companions, he only wore a blanketfastened round his loins, so as to leave his bust and his arms bare.The expression of his countenance was handsome and noble; his black,animated eyes, close to his aquiline nose, and his somewhat large mouth,gave him a faint resemblance to a bird of prey. His hair was shavedoff, with the exception of a ridge upon the middle of his head, whichproduced the effect of the crest of a helmet, and a long scalp lock, inwhich was fixed a bunch of eagle's feathers, hung down behind him.

  His face was painted of four different colours--blue, white, black, andred; the wounds inflicted by him upon his enemies were marked in blueupon his naked breast. Moccasins of untanned deerskin came up above hisknees, and numerous wolves' tails were fastened to his heels.

  Fortunately for the hunters, the Indians were on the warpath, and hadno dogs with them; but for this, they would have been discovered longbefore, and could not possibly have approached so near the camp.

  In spite of his statue-like immobility, the eye of the chief sparkled,his nostrils expanded, and he lifted his right arm mechanically, as ifto impose silence upon his warriors.

  "We are scented," Loyal Heart murmured, in a voice so low that hiscompanion could hardly hear it.

  "What is to be done?" Belhumeur replied.

  "Act," said the trapper, laconically.

  Both then glided silently from branch to branch, from tree to tree,without touching the ground, till they reached the opposite side ofthe camp, just above the place where the horses of the Comanches werehobbled to graze.

  Belhumeur descended softly, and cut the thongs that held them; and thehorses, excited by the whips of the hunters, rushed out, neighing andkicking in all directions.

  The Indians rose in disorder, and hastened, with loud cries, in pursuitof their horses.

  Eagle Head alone, as if he had guessed the spot where his enemies werein ambush, directed his steps straight towards them, screening himselfas much as possible behind the trees which he passed.

  The hunters drew back, step by step, looking carefully round them, so asnot to allow themselves to be encompassed.

  The cries of the Indians grew fainter in the distance; they were all ineager pursuit of their horses.

  The chief found himself alone in presence of his two enemies.

  On arriving at a tree whose enormous trunk appeared to guarantee thedesired safety, disdaining to use his gun, and the opportunity seemingfavourable, he adjusted an arrow on his bowstring. But whatever mightbe his prudence and address, he could not make this movement withoutdiscovering himself a little. Loyal Heart raised his gun, the triggerwas pressed, the ball whizzed, and the chief bounded into the airuttering a howl of rage, and fell upon the ground.

  His arm was broken.

  The two hunters were already by his side.

  "Not a movement, redskin," Loyal Heart said to him; "not a movement, oryou are a dead man!"

  The Indian remained motionless, apparently stoical, but devouring hisrage.

  "I could kill you," the hunter continued; "but I am not willing to doso. This is the second time I have given you your life, chief, but itwill be the last. Cross my path no more, and, remember, do not steal mytraps again; if you do, I swear I will grant you no mercy."

  "Eagle Head is a chief renowned among the men of his tribe," the Indianreplied, haughtily; "he does not fear death; the white hunter may killhim, he will not hear him complain."

  "No, I will not kill you, chief; my God forbids the shedding of humanblood unnecessarily."

  "Wah!" said the Indian, with an ironical smile, "my brother is amissionary."

  "No, I am an honest trapper, and do not wish to be an assassin."

  "My brother speaks the words of old women," the Indian continued; "Nehumutah never pardons, he takes vengeance."

  "You will do as you please, chief," the hunter replied, shrugging hisshoulders contemptuously, "I have no intention of trying to change yournature; only remember you are warned--farewell!"

  "And the devil admire you!" Belhumeur added, giving him a contemptuousshove with his foot.

  The chief appeared insensible even to this fresh insult, save that hisbrows contracted slightly. He did not stir, but followed his enemieswith an implacable look, while they, without troubling themselvesfurther about him, plunged into the forest.

  "You may say what you like, Loyal Heart," said Belhumeur, "but you arewrong, you ought to have killed him."

  "Bah! what for?" the hunter asked, carelessly.

  "_Cascaras!_ what for? Why, there would have been one head of vermin theless in the prairie."

  "Where there are so many," said the other, "one more or less cannotsignify much."

  "Humph! that's true!" Belhumeur replied, apparently convinced; "butwhere are we going now?"

  "To look after our traps, _caramba!_ do you think I will lose them?"

  "Humph! that's a good thought."

  The hunters advanced in the direction of the camp, but in the Indianfashion--that is to say, by making numberless turnings and windingsintended to throw out the Comanches.

  After progressing in this way for twenty minutes, they arrived at thecamp. The Indians had not yet returned; but in all probability, it wouldnot be long before they did so. All their baggage was scattered about.Two or three horses, which had not felt disposed to run away, werebrowsing quietly on the peavines.

  Without losing time, the hunters set about collecting their traps, whichwas soon done. Each loaded himself with five, and, without furtherdelay, they resumed the way to the cavern where they had concealed theirhorses.

  Notwithstanding the tolerably heavy weight they carried on theirshoulders, the two men marched lightly, much pleased at having sohappily terminated their expedition, and laughing at the trick they hadplayed the Indians.

  They had gone on thus for some time, and could already hear the murmurof the distant waters of the river, when, all at once, the neighing of ahorse struck their ears.

  "We are pursued," said Loyal Heart, stopping.

  "Hum!" Belhumeur remarked, "it is, perhaps, a wild horse."

  "No; a wild horse does not neigh in that manner; it is the Comanches;but we can soon know," he added, as he threw himself down to listen, andplaced his ear close to the ground.

  "I was sure of it," he said, rising almost immediately; "it is theComanches; but they are not following a full track--they are hesitating."

  "Or perhaps their march is retarded by the wound of Eagle Head."

  "That's possible! Oh, oh! do they fancy themselves capable of catchingus, if we wished to escape from
them?"

  "Ah! if we were not loaded, that would soon be done."

  Loyal Heart reflected a minute.

  "Come," he said, "we have still half an hour, and that is more than wewant."

  A rivulet flowed at a short distance from them; the hunter entered itsbed with his companion, who followed all his movements.

  When he arrived in the middle of the stream, Loyal Heart carefullywrapped up the traps in a buffalo skin, that no moisture might come tothem, and then he allowed them quietly to drop to the bottom of thestream.

  This precaution taken, the hunters crossed the rivulet, and made a falsetrail of about two hundred paces, and afterwards returned cautiouslyso as not to leave a print that might betray their return. They thenre-entered the forest, after having, with a gesture, sent the dogs tothe horses. The intelligent animals obeyed, and soon disappeared in thedarkness.

  This resolution to send away the dogs was useful in assisting to throwthe Indians off the track, for they could scarcely miss following thetraces left by the bloodhounds in the high grass.

  Once in the forest, the hunters again climbed up a tree, and beganto advance between heaven and earth--a mode of travelling much morefrequently used than is believed in Europe, in this country where it isoften impossible, on account of the underwood and the trees, to advancewithout employing an axe to clear a passage.

  It is possible, by thus passing from branch to branch, to travel leaguestogether without touching the ground.

  It was exactly thus, only for another cause, that our hunters acted atthis moment.

  They advanced in this fashion before their enemies, who drew nearer andnearer, and they soon perceived them under them, marching in Indianfile, that is to say, one behind another, and following their trackattentively.

  Eagle Head came first, half lying upon his horse, on account of hiswound, but more animated than ever in pursuit of his enemies.

  When the Comanches passed them, the two trappers gathered themselves upamong the leaves, holding their breath. The most trifling circumstancewould have sufficed to proclaim their presence. The Indians passedwithout seeing them. The hunters resumed their leafy march.

  "Ouf!" said Belhumeur, at the end of a minute. "I think we have got ridof them this time!"

  "Do not cry before you are out of the wood, but let us get on as fast aswe can; these demons of redskins are cunning, they will not long be thedupes of our stratagem."

  "_Sacrebleu!_" the Canadian suddenly exclaimed, "I have let my knifefall, I don't know where; if these devils find it, we are lost."

  "Most likely," Loyal Heart murmured; "the greater reason then for notlosing a single minute."

  In the meantime, the forest, which till then had been calm, began all atonce to grow excited, the birds flew about uttering cries of terror, andin the thick underwood they could hear the dry branches crack under thehurried footfalls of the wild animals.

  "What's going on now?" said Loyal Heart, stopping, and looking round himwith uneasiness; "the forest appears to be turned topsy-turvey!"

  The hunters sprang up to the top of the tree in which they were, andwhich happened to be one of the loftiest in the forest.

  An immense light tinged the horizon at about a league from the spotwhere they were; this light increased every minute, and advanced towardsthem with giant strides.

  "Curses on them!" cried Belhumeur, "the Comanches have fired theprairie!"

  "Yes, and I believe this time that, as you said just now, we are lost,"Loyal Heart replied coolly.

  "What's to be done?" said the Canadian, "in an instant we shall besurrounded."

  Loyal Heart reflected seriously.

  At the end of a few seconds he raised his head, and a smile of triumphcurled the corners of his mouth.

  "They have not got us yet," he replied; "follow me, my brother;" and headded in a low voice, "I must see my mother again!"