The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan War

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER XXVIII.

  JOHN DAVIS.

  John Davis, the ex-slave dealer, had too powerful nerves for the sceneshe had witnessed this day, and in which he had even played a very activeand dangerous part, to leave any durable impressions on his mind.

  After quitting Blue-fox, he galloped on for some time in the directionwhere he expected to find the Jaguar; but gradually he yielded to histhoughts, and his horse, understanding with that admirable instinctwhich distinguishes these noble animals, that its rider was paying noattention to it, gradually reduced its pace, passing from the gallop toa trot, and then to a foot-pace, walking with its head down, andsnapping at a few blades of grass as it passed.

  John Davis was considerably perplexed by the conduct of one of thepersons with whom accident had brought him in contact on this morning sofertile in events of every description. The person who had the privilegeof arousing the American's attention to no eminent degree was the WhiteScalper.

  The heroic struggle sustained by this man alone against a swarm ofobstinate enemies, his herculean strength, the skill with which hemanaged his horse--all in this strange man seemed to him to border onthe marvellous.

  During bivouac watches on the prairie he had frequently heard the mostextraordinary and exaggerated stories told about this hunter by theIndians with, a terror, the reason of which he comprehended, now that hehad seen the man; for this individual who laughed at weapons directedagainst his chest, and ever emerged safe and sound from the combats heengaged in, seemed rather a demon than a being appertaining to humanity.John Davis felt himself shudder involuntarily at this thought, andcongratulated himself in having so miraculously escaped the danger hehad incurred in his encounter with the Scalper.

  We will mention, in passing, that no people in the world are moresuperstitious than the North Americans. This is easy to understand: thisnation--a perfect harlequin's garb--is an heterogeneous composite of allthe races that people the old world; each of the representatives ofthese races arrived in America, bearing in his emigrants' baggage notonly his vices and passions, but also his creed and his superstitions,which are the wildest, most absurd, and puerile possible. This was themore easily effected, because the mass of emigrants, who have at variousperiods sought a refuge in America, was composed of people for the mostpart devoid of all learning, or even of a semblance of education; fromthis point of view, the North Americans, we must do them the justice ofsaying, have not at all degenerated; they are at the present day atleast as ignorant and brutal as were their ancestors.

  It is easy to imagine the strange number of legends about sorcerers andphantoms which are current in North America. These legends, preserved bytradition, passing from mouth to mouth, and with time becoming mingledone with the other, have necessarily been heightened in a country wherethe grand aspect of nature renders the mind prone to reverie andmelancholy.

  Hence John Davis, though he flattered himself he was a strong-mindedman, did not fail, like all his countrymen, to possess a strong dose ofcredulity; and this man, who would not have recoiled at the sight ofseveral muskets pointed at his breast, felt himself shiver with fear atthe sound of a leaf falling at night on his shoulder.

  Moreover, so soon as the idea occurred to John Davis that the WhiteScalper was a demon, or, at the very least, a sorcerer, it got hold ofhim, and this supposition straightway became an article of belief withhim. Naturally, he found himself at once relieved by this discovery; hisideas returned to their usual current, and the anxiety that occupied hismind disappeared as if by enchantment; henceforth his opinion was formedabout this man, and if accident again brought them face to face, hewould know how to behave to him.

  Happy at having at length found this solution, he gaily raised his head,and took a long searching look around him at the landscape he was ridingthrough.

  He was nearly in the centre of a vast rolling prairie, covered with tallgrass, and with a few clumps of mahogany and pine trees scattered hereand there.

  Suddenly he rose in his stirrups, placed his hand as a shade over hiseyes, and looked attentively.

  About half a mile from the spot where he had halted, and a little to theright, that is to say, exactly in the direction he intended to followhimself, he noticed a thin column of smoke, which rose from the middleof a thicket of aloe and larch trees.

  On the desert, smoke seen by the wayside always furnishes ample matterfor reflection.

  Smoke generally rises from a fire round which several persons areseated.

  Now man, in this more unfortunate than the wild beasts, fears before allelse on the prairie meeting with his fellow-man, for he may wager ahundred to one that the man he meets will prove an enemy.

  Still John Davis, after ripe consideration, resolved to push on towardthe fire; since morning he had been fasting, hunger was beginning toprick him, and in addition he felt excessively fatigued; he thereforeinspected his weapons with the most scrupulous attention, so as to beable to have recourse to them if necessary, and digging the spur intohis horse's flank, he went on boldly toward the smoke, while carefullywatching the neighbourhood for fear of a surprise.

  At the end of ten minutes he reached his destination; but when fiftyyards from the clump of trees, he checked the speed of his horse, andlaid his rifle across the saddle-bow; his face lost the anxiousexpression which had covered it, and he advanced toward the fire with asmile on his lips, and the most friendly air imaginable.

  In the midst of a thick clump of trees, whose protecting shade offered acomfortable shelter to a weary traveller, a man dressed in the costumeof a Mexican dragoon was lazily seated in front of a fire, over whichhis meat was cooking, while himself smoked a husk cigarette. A longlance decorated with its guidon leaned against a larch tree close tohim, and a completely harnessed horse, from which the bit had, however,been removed, was peaceably nibbling the tree shoots and the tenderprairie grass.

  This man seemed to be twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age; hiscunning features were lit up by small sharp eyes, and the copper tingeof his skin denoted his Indian origin.

  He had for a long time seen the horseman coming toward his camp, but heappeared to attach but slight importance to it, and quietly went onsmoking and watching the cooking of his meal, not taking any furtherprecaution against the unforeseen visitor than assuring himself that hissabre came easily out of its scabbard. When he was only a few paces fromthe soldier, John Davis stopped and raised his hand to his hat.

  "Ave Maria Purisima!" he said.

  "Sin pecado concebida!" the dragoon answered, imitating the American'sgesture.

  "Santas tardes!" the new comer went on.

  "Dios les da a Vm buenas!" the other immediately answered.

  These necessary formulas of every meeting exhausted, the ice was broken,and the acquaintance made.

  "Dismount, Caballero," the dragoon said; "the heat is stifling on theprairie; I have here a famous shade, and in this little pot cecina, withred harico beans and pimento, which I think you will like, if you do methe honour to share my repast."

  "I readily accept your flattering invitation, Caballero," the Americananswered with a smile; "the more readily because I confess to you that Iam literally starving, and, moreover, exhausted with fatigue."

  "Caray! In that case I congratulate myself on the fortunate accidentthat occasions our meeting, so pray dismount without further delay."

  "I am going to do so."

  The American at once got off his horse, removed the bit, and the nobleanimal immediately joined its companion, while its master fell to theground by the dragoon's side, with a sigh of satisfaction.

  "You seem to have made a long ride, Caballero?" the soldier said.

  "Yes," the American answered, "I have been on horseback for ten hours,not to mention that I spent the morning in fighting."

  "Cristo! You have had hard work of it."

  "You may say so without any risk of telling an untruth; for, on the wordof a hunter, I never had such a tough job."

  "You are a h
unter?"

  "At your service."

  "A fine profession," the soldier said with a sigh; "I have been onetoo."

  "And you regret it?"

  "Daily."

  "I can understand that. Once a man has tasted the joys of desert life,he always wishes to return to it."

  "Alas, that is true."

  "Why did you give it up then, since you liked it so much?"

  "Ah, why!" the soldier said; "through love."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Yes, a child with whom I was so foolish as to fall in love, and whopersuaded me to enlist."

  "Oh, hang it!"

  "Yes, and I had scarce put on my uniform, when she told me she wasmistaken about me: that, thus dressed, I was much uglier than she couldhave supposed; in short, she left me in the lurch to run after anarriero."

  The American could not refrain from laughing at this singular story.

  "It is sad, is it not?" the soldier continued.

  "Very sad," John Davis answered, trying in vain to regain his gravity.

  "What would you have?" the soldier added gloomily; "the world is onlyone huge deception. But," he added with a sudden change of his tone, "Ifancy our dinner is ready--I smell something which warns me that it istime to take off the pot."

  As John Davis had naturally no objection to offer to this resolution ofthe soldier, the latter at once carried it into effect; the pot wastaken off the fire and placed before the two guests, who began such avigorous attack, that it was soon empty, in spite of its decentcapacity.

  This excellent meal was washed down with a few mouthfuls of Catalonianrefino, with which the soldier appeared amply provided.

  All was terminated with the indispensable cigarette, that obligatocomplement of every Hispano-American meal, and the two men, revived bythe good food with which they had lined their stomachs, were soon in anexcellent condition to open their hearts to each other.

  "You seem to me a man of caution, Caballero," the American remarked, ashe puffed out an immense mouthful of smoke, part of which came from hismouth, and part from his nostrils.

  "It is a reminiscence of my old hunter's trade. Soldiers generally arenot nearly so careful as I am."

  "The more I observe you," John Davis went on, "the more extraordinarydoes it appear to me that you should have consented to take up aprofession so badly paid as that of a soldier."

  "What would you have? It is fatality, and then the impossibility ofsending the uniform to the deuce. However, I hope to be made a _Cabo_before the year's out."

  "That is a fine position, as I have heard; the pay must be good."

  "It would not be bad, if we received it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "It seems that the government is not rich."

  "Then, you give it credit?"

  "We are obliged to do so."

  "Hang it! but forgive me for asking you all these questions, which mustappear to you indiscreet."

  "Not at all; we are talking as friends."

  "How do you live?"

  "Well, we have casualties."

  "What may they be?"

  "Do you not know?"

  "Indeed, I do not."

  "I will explain."

  "You will cause me pleasure."

  "Sometimes our Captain or General entrusts us with a mission."

  "Very good."

  "This mission is paid for separately; the more dangerous it is, thelarger the amount."

  "Still on credit?"

  "No, hang it; in advance."

  "That is better. And have you many of these missions?"

  "Frequently, especially during a pronunciamento."

  "Yes, but for nearly a year no General has pronounced."

  "Unluckily."

  "Then you are quite dry?"

  "Not quite."

  "You have had missions?"

  "I have one at this moment."

  "Well paid?"

  "Decently."

  "Would there be any harm in asking how much?"

  "Not at all; I have received twenty-five ounces."

  "Cristo! that is a nice sum. The mission must be a dangerous one to bepaid so highly."

  "It is not without peril."

  "Hum! In that case take care."

  "Thank you, but I run no heavy risk; I have only to deliver a letter."

  "It is true that a letter--" the American carelessly remarked.

  "Oh! this one is more important than you fancy it."

  "Nonsense!"

  "On my honour it is, for it concerns some millions of dollars."

  "What is that you say?" John Davis exclaimed with an involuntary start.

  Since his meeting with the soldier, the hunter had quietly worked to gethim to reveal the reason that brought him into these parts, for thepresence of a single dragoon on the desert seemed to him queer, and forgood reason; hence it was with great pleasure that he saw him fall intothe trap set for him.

  "Yes," the soldier continued, "General Rubio, whose asistente I am, hassent me as an express to meet Captain Melendez, who at this moment isescorting a conducta de plata."

  "Do you mean that really?"

  "Do I not tell you that I have the letter about me?"

  "That is true; but for what purpose does the General write to theCaptain?"

  The soldier looked for a moment cunningly at the hunter, and thensuddenly changed his tone.

  "Will you play fair?" he asked him, as he looked him full in the face.

  The hunter smiled.

  "Good," the soldier continued; "I see that we can understand oneanother."

  "Why not? those are the conditions that suit Caballeros."

  "Then, we play fair?"

  "That is agreed."

  "Confess that you would like to know the contents of this letter."

  "Through simple curiosity, I swear to you."

  "Of course! I felt assured of that. Well, it only depends on yourself toknow them."

  "I will not take long then; let me hear your conditions."

  "They are simple."

  "Tell me them for all that."

  "Look at me carefully; do you not recognize me?"

  "On my honour, I do not."

  "That proves to me that I have a better memory than you."

  "It is possible."

  "I recognize you."

  "You may have seen me somewhere."

  "Very likely, but that is of little consequence; the main point is thatI should know who you are."

  "Oh, a simple hunter."

  "Yes, and an intimate friend of the Jaguar."

  "What!" the hunter exclaimed with a start of surprise.

  "Do not be frightened at such a trifle: answer me simply; is it so ornot?"

  "It is true; I do not see why I should hide the fact from you."

  "You would be wrong if you did. Where is the Jaguar at this moment?"

  "I do not know."

  "That is to say, you will not tell me."

  "You have guessed it."

  "Good. Could you tell me, if I wished you to lead me to him?"

  "I see no reason to prevent it, if the affair is worth your while."

  "Have I not told you that it related to millions?"

  "You did, but you did not prove it."

  "And you wish me to give you that proof?"

  "Nothing else."

  "That is rather difficult."

  "No, it is not."

  "How so?"

  "Hang it, I am a good fellow; I only want to cover my responsibility;show me the letter, I ask no more."

  "And that will satisfy you?"

  "Yes, because I know the General's handwriting."

  "Oh, in that case, it is all right," and drawing a large envelope fromhis breast, he said as he showed it to the American, though withoutloosing his hold, "Look!"

  The latter looked at it closely for some minutes.

  "It is really the General's handwriting," the soldier continued.

  "Yes,"

  "Now, d
o you consent to lead me to the Jaguar?"

  "Whenever you like."

  "At once then."

  "Very good."

  The two men rose by mutual agreement, put the bits in their horses'mouths, leaped into their saddles, and left at a gallop the spot whichfor several hours had afforded them such pleasant shade.