Balle-Franche. English

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER XX.

  INDIAN DIPLOMACY.

  Natah Otann feigned not to have perceived the Count's smile.

  "Now that you have recovered," he said to Prairie-Flower, in a gentlertone than he at first assumed towards her, "mount your horse, andreturn to the village. Red Wolf will accompany you; perhaps," he added,with an Indian smile, "we may again come across cougars, and you areso frightened at them, that I believe I am doing you a service inbegging you to withdraw."

  The young girl, still trembling, bowed and mounted her horse. Red Wolfhad involuntarily made a start of joy on hearing the order the chiefgave him, but the latter, occupied with his thoughts, had not surprisedit.

  "One moment," Natah Otann went on, "if living lions frighten you, Iknow that in return you greatly value their furs; allow me to offer youthese."

  No one can equal the skill of Indians in flaying animals; in an instantthe two lions, over which the vultures were already hovering andforming wide circles, were stripped of their rich hides, which werethrown across Red Wolfs horse. That animal, terrified by the smell thatemanated from the skins, reared furiously, and almost unsaddled itsrider, who had great difficulty in restraining it.

  "Now go," the Chief said, drily, dismissing them with a haughty gesture.

  Prairie-Flower and Red Wolf departed at a gallop; Natah Otann watchedthem for a long time, then let his head fall on his breast, as heuttered a deep sigh, and appeared plunged in gloomy thought. A momentlater he felt a hand pressing heavily on his chest; he raised hishead--White Buffalo was before him.

  "What do you want with me?" he asked, angrily.

  "Do you not know?" the old man said, looking at him fixedly.

  Natah Otann quivered.

  "It is true," he said, "the hour has arrived, you mean?"

  "Yes."

  "Are all precautions taken?"

  "All."

  "Come on then; but where are they?"

  "Look at them."

  While uttering these words, White Buffalo pointed to the Count and hiscomrades lying on the grass, at the skirt of a wood, about two hundredyards from the Indian encampment.

  "Ah, they keep aloof," the Chief observed, bitterly.

  "Is not that better for the conversation which we wish to have withthem?"

  "You are right."

  The two men then walked up to the hunters without speaking again. Thelatter had really kept away, not through contempt for the Indians, butin order to be more at liberty. What had occurred after the death ofthe cougars, the brutal way in which the Chief spoke to Prairie-Flower,had vexed the Count, and it needed all the power he possessed overhimself, and the entreaties of Bright-eye, to prevent him breaking outin reproaches of the Chief, whose conduct appeared to him unjustifiablycoarse.

  "Hum," he said, "this man is decidedly a ruffian: I am beginning to beof your opinion, Bright-eye."

  "Bah! that is nothing yet," the latter replied, with a shrug of hisshoulders; "we shall see plenty more, if we only remain a week withthese demons."

  While speaking, the Canadian had reloaded his rifle and pistols.

  "Do as I do," he continued; "no one knows what may happen."

  "What need of that precaution? are we not under the protection of theIndians, whose guests we are?"

  "Possibly; but no matter, you had better follow my advice, for withIndians you can never answer for the future."

  "There is considerable truth in what you say; what I have just seendoes not at all inspire me with confidence."

  The Count, therefore, began reloading his weapons; as for Ivon, he hadnot used his. The two Indian Chiefs came up at the moment the Countfinished loading the last pistol.

  "Oh, oh!" Natah Otann said, in French, saluting the young manwith studied politeness, "have you scented any wild beast in theneighbourhood?"

  "Perhaps so," the latter replied, as he returned his pistols to hisbelt.

  "What do you mean, sir?"

  "Nothing but what I say."

  "Unfortunately for me, doubtlessly, that is so subtile, that I do notunderstand it."

  "I am sorry for it, sir; but I can only reply to you by an old Latinproverb."

  "Which is?"

  "What need to repeat it, as you do not understand Latin?"

  "Suppose I do understand it?"

  "Well, then, as you insist upon it, here it is--_si vis pacem parabellum_."

  "Which means--" the Chief said, impertinently, while White Buffalo bithis lips.

  "Which means--" the Count said.

  "If you wish for peace, prepare for war," White Buffalo hurriedlyinterrupted.

  "It was you who said it," the Count remarked, bowing with a mockingsmile.

  The three men stood face to face, like skilful duellists, who feelthe adversary's sword before engaging, and who, having recognizedthemselves to be of equal strength, redouble their prudence beforedealing a decisive thrust.

  Bright-eye, though not understanding much of this skirmish of words,had still, through the distrust which was the basis of his character,given Ivon a side-glance, and both, though apparently inattentive,were ready for any event. After the Count's last remark there was alengthened silence, which Natah Otann was the first to break.

  "You believe yourself to be among enemies, then?" he asked, in a toneof wounded pride.

  "I did not say so," he replied, "and such is not my thought; still, Iconfess that all I have seen during the last few days is so strange tome, that, in spite of all my attempts, I can form no settled opinioneither about men or things, and that causes me deep reflection."

  "Ah!" the Indian said, coldly, "and what is it so strange you seearound you? Would you be kind enough to inform me?"

  "I see no harm in doing so, if you wish it."

  "You will cause me intense pleasure by explaining yourself."

  "I am quite ready to do so; the more so, as I have ever been accustomedto express my thoughts freely, and I see no reason for disguising themtoday."

  The two Chiefs bowed, and said nothing; the Count rested his hands onthe muzzle of his gun, and continued, while regarding them fixedly--

  "My faith, gentlemen, since you wish me to unveil my thoughts, youshall have them in their entirety: we are here in the wilds of theAmerican prairies, that is, in the wildest countries of the newContinent; you are always on hostile terms with the whites; youBlackfeet are regarded as the most untameable, savage, and ferocious ofthe Indians; or, in other words, the most devoid of the civilization ofall the aboriginal nations."

  "Well," Natah Otann remarked, "what do you find strange in that? Isit our fault if our despoilers, since the discovery of the new world,have tracked us like wild beasts, driven us back in the desert, andregarded us as beings scarcely endowed with the instinct of the brute?You must blame them, and not us. By what right do you reproach us witha brutalization and barbarism, produced by our persecutors and not byourselves?"

  "You have not understood me, sir: if, instead of interrupting me, youhad listened patiently a few minutes longer, you would have seen that Inot merely do not reproach you for that brutalization, but pity it inmy heart; for, although I have been only a few months in the desert,I have been on several occasions in a position to judge the unhappyrace to which you belong, and appreciate the good qualities it stillpossesses, and which the odious tyranny of the whites has not succeededin eradicating, despite all the means employed to attain that end."

  The two Chiefs exchanged a glance of satisfaction; the generous wordsuttered by the young man gave them hopes as to the success of theirnegotiation.

  "Pardon me, and pray continue," Natah Otann said, with a bow.

  "I will do so:" the Count went on: "I repeat it, it was not thatbarbarism which astonished me, for I supposed it to be greater thanit really is: what seemed strange to me was to find in the heart ofthe desert, where we now are, amid the ferocious Indians who surroundus, two men, two Chiefs of these self-same Indians--I will not saycivilized, for the word is not strong enough--but utterly conversantwith
all the secrets of the most advanced and refined civilization,speaking my maternal tongue with the most extreme purity, and seeming,in a word, to have nothing Indian about them, save the dress theywear. It seemed strange to me that two men, for an object I know not,changing in turn their manners and fashions, are at one moment savageIndians, at another perfect gentlemen; but instead of trying to raisetheir countrymen from the barbarism in which they pine, they wallow init with them, feigning to be as ignorant and cruel as themselves. Iconfess to you, gentlemen, that all this not only appeared strange tome, but even frightened me."

  "Frightened!" the two Chiefs exclaimed, simultaneously.

  "Yes, frightened!" the Count continued, quickly; "for a life ofcontinual feints, such as you lead, must conceal some dark plot.Lastly, I am frightened, because your conduct towards me, the urgencywith which you sought to attract me amongst you, causes involuntarysuspicions to spring up in my heart as to your secret intentions."

  "And what are those suspicions, sir?" Natah Otann asked, haughtily.

  "I am afraid that you wish to make me your accomplice in somescandalous deed."

  These words, pronounced vehemently, burst like a thunderbolt on theears of the two strange Chiefs; they were terrified by the perspicuityof the young man, and for several moments knew not what to say, todisculpate themselves.

  "Sir!" Natah Otann at length exclaimed, violently.

  White Buffalo checked him by a majestic gesture.

  "It is my duty," he said, "to reply to our guest's words: in his turn,after the frank and loyal explanation he has given us, he has a rightto one equally frank on our side."

  "I am listening to you," the young man said, coolly.

  "Of the two men now standing before you, one is your fellow countryman."

  "Ah!" the Count muttered.

  "That countryman is myself."

  The young man bowed coldly.

  "I suspected it," he said, "and it is a further reason to heighten mysuspicions."

  Natah Otann made a gesture.

  "Let him speak," White Buffalo said, holding him back.

  "What I have to say will not be long, sir: it is my opinion that theman who consents to exchange the blessings of European civilization fora precarious life on the prairie; who breaks all the ties of familyand friendship which attached him to his country, in order to adopt anIndian life--in my opinion that man must have many disgraceful actionsto reproach himself with, and his remorse forces him to offer societyexpiation for them."

  The old man's brow contracted, and a livid pallor covered his face.

  "You are very young, sir," he said, "to have the right to bring suchaccusations against an old man whose actions, life, and even name areunknown to you."

  "That is true, sir," the Count answered, nobly. "Pardon any insult mywords may have conveyed."

  "Why should I be angry with you?" he continued, in a sad voice; "achild born yesterday, whose eyes opened amid songs and fetes, whoselife, which counts but a few days, has been spent gently and calmly inthe peace and prosperity of that beloved France which I weep for everyday."

  "Who are you, sir?" he asked.

  "Who I am?" the old man said, bitterly. "I am one of those crushedTitans who sat in the Convention of 1793."

  The Count fell back a pace, letting fall the hand he had taken.

  "Oh!" he said.

  The exile looked at him searchingly.

  "Enough of this," he said, raising his head and assuming a firm andresolute tone; "you are in our hands, sir, any resistance will beuseless; so listen to our propositions."

  The Count shrugged his shoulders.

  "You throw off the mask," he said, "and I prefer that; but allow me oneremark before listening to you."

  "What is it?"

  "I am of noble birth, as you are aware, and hence we are old enemies;on whatever ground we may meet, we can only stand face to face, neverside by side."

  "They are ever the same," the other muttered; "this haughty race may bebroken, but not bent."

  The Count bowed, and folded his arms on his breast.

  "I am waiting," he said.

  "Time presses," the exile continued; "any discussion between us wouldbe superfluous, as we cannot agree."

  "At least, that is clear," the Count remarked, with a smile; "now forthe rest."

  "It is this: in two days, all the Indian nations will rise as one manto crush the American tyranny."

  "What do I care for that? Have I come so far to dabble in politics?"

  The exile repressed a movement of anger.

  "Unfortunately, your will is not free; you are here to obey ourconditions, and not to impose your own: you must accept or die."

  "Oh, oh, always your old means, as it seems, but I will be patient:come, what is it you expect from me?"

  "We demand," he went on, laying a stress on every word, "that youshould take the command of all the warriors, and direct the expeditionin person."

  "Why I, rather than anyone else?"

  "Because you alone can play the part we give you."

  "Nonsense--you are mad."

  "You must be so, if, since your stay among the Indians, you have notseen that you would have been killed long ago, had we not been carefulto spread reports about you, which gained you general respect, in spiteof your rashness and blind confidence in yourself."

  "Eh, then, this has been prepared a long time?"

  "For centuries."

  "Hang it!" the Count went on, still sarcastically, "what have I to doin all this?"

  "Oh, sir, not much," the White Buffalo answered, with a sneer; "andanyone else would have suited us just as well; unfortunately for you,you have an extraordinary likeness to the man who can alone march atour head; and as this man died long ago, it is not probable that hewill come from his grave expressly to guide us to battle; hence youmust take his place."

  "Very well; and would there be any indiscretion in asking you the nameof the man to whom I bear so wonderful a likeness?"

  "Not the slightest," the old man replied, coldly; "the more so, becauseyou have doubtlessly already heard his name; it is Motecuhzoma."

  The Count burst into a laugh.

  "Come!" he said, "it is a capital joke; but I find it a little toolong. Now, a word in my turn."

  "Speak."

  "Whatever you may do, whatever means you may employ, I will neverconsent to serve you in any way. Now, as I am your guest, placed underthe guarantee of your honour, I request you to let me pass."

  "That resolution is decided."

  "Yes."

  "You will not change it."

  "Whatever happens."

  "We shall see that," the old man remarked, coldly.

  The Count looked at him contemptuously.

  "Make way there," he said, resolutely.

  The two Chiefs shrugged their shoulders.

  "We are savages," Natah Otann said, gibingly.

  "Make way!" the Count repeated, as he cocked his rifle.

  Natah Otann whistled; in an instant, some fifteen Indians rushed fromthe wood, and fell on the white men, who, however, though surprised,endured the shock bravely. Standing instinctively back to back, withshoulder supported against shoulder, they suddenly formed a tremendoustriangle, before which the Redskins were constrained to halt.

  "Oh, oh," Bright-eye said, "I fancy we are going to have some fun."

  "Yes," Ivon muttered, crossing himself piously; "but we shall bekilled."

  "Probably," the Canadian said.

  "Fall back!" the Count ordered.

  The three men then began to retire slowly toward the wood, the onlyshelter that offered, without separating, and still pointing theirrifles at the Indians. The Redskins are brave, even rash; that questioncannot be disguised or doubted; but with them courage is calculated;they never fight save to gain an object, and are not fond of riskingtheir lives unprofitably. They hesitated.

  "I fancy we did well to reload our arms," the Count said, ironically,but with perfect calmness.

/>   "By Jove!" Bright-eye said, with a grin.

  "No matter, I am very frightened," Ivon groaned his eyes sparkling andhis lips quivering.

  "_Eha_, sons of blood!" Natah Otann shouted, as he cocked his gun. "Dothree Palefaces frighten you? Forward! Forward!"

  The Indians uttered their war yell, and rushed on the hunters. Theother Indians, warned of what was happening by the shouts of theircomrades, ran up hurriedly to take part in the fight.