Balle-Franche. English

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER XXII.

  IVON.

  The Count and his two companions, as we have seen, bravely awaited theattack of the Indians; it was terrible. For an instant there was ahorrible melee hand to hand; then the Indians fell back to draw breath,and begin again. Ten corpses lay at the feet of the three men, who weremotionless and firm as a block of granite.

  "By heavens!" the Count said, as he wiped away, with the back of hishand, the perspiration mingled with blood that stood in large beads onhis forehead, "it is a glorious fight."

  "Yes," Bright-eye replied, carelessly; "but it is mortal."

  "What matter, if we die like men?"

  "Hum! I am not of that opinion. As long as there is a chance, we mustseize it."

  "But none is left us!"

  "Perhaps there is; but let me act."

  "I ask no better. Still I confess to you that I find this fightglorious."

  "It is really very agreeable; but it would be much more so, if we livedto recount it."

  "On my word, that is true. I did not think of that."

  "Yes, but I did."

  The Canadian stooped down to Ivon, and whispered some words in his ear.

  "Yes," the Breton replied, "provided I am not afraid."

  "Bravo!" the hunter said, with a smile; "you will do what you can. Thatis agreed?"

  "Agreed."

  "Look out, comrades," the Count shouted; "here are the enemy!"

  In truth, the Indians were ready to renew the attack. Natah Otann andWhite Buffalo were resolved on taking the Count alive, and without awound; they had consequently given their warriors orders not to employtheir firearms, content themselves with parrying the blows dealt them,but take him at every risk. During the few moments' respite which theIndians had allowed the white men, the other Indians had run up to takepart in the fight; so that the hunters, surrounded on all sides, had tomake head against at least forty Redskins. It would have been madnessor blind temerity to attempt opposing such a mass of enemies; and yetthe white men did not appear to dream of asking quarter. At the momentNatah Otann was going to give the signal for attack, White Buffalo, whohad hitherto stood aloof, gloomy and thoughtful, interposed,--

  "A moment!" he said.

  "For what good?" the Chief remarked.

  "Let me make the attempt. Perhaps they will recognize that a struggleis impossible, and consent to accept our propositions."

  "I doubt it," Natah Otann muttered, shaking his head; "they appear veryresolute."

  "Let me try it. You know how necessary it is for the success of ourplans that we should seize this man?"

  "Unfortunately; if we do not take care, he will be killed."

  "That is what I wish to avoid."

  "Try it then; but I am convinced you will fail."

  "Who knows? I can try, at any rate."

  White Buffalo walked a few paces in advance, and was then about sixyards from the Count.

  "What do you want?" the young man said. "If I did not involuntarilyknow that you are a Frenchman, I should have long ago put a bullet intoyour chest."

  "Fire!--what stops you?" the exile replied, in a sad voice. "Do youbelieve that I fear death?"

  "Enough talking. Retire! or I will fire."

  And he levelled his rifle at him.

  "I wish to say one word to you."

  "Speak quickly, and be off."

  "I offer you and your comrades your lives, if you will surrender."

  The Count burst into a laugh.

  "Nonsense," he said, with a shrug of his shoulders; "do you take us forfools? We were the guests of your companions, and they have impudentlyviolated the law of nations."

  "That is your last word, then?"

  "The last, by Jove! You must have lived a long time among the Indiansto have forgotten that Frenchmen would sooner die than be cowards."

  "Your blood be on your own heads, then."

  "So be it, odious renegade, who fight with savages against yourbrothers."

  This insult struck the old man to the heart; he bent a fearful glanceon the young man, turned pale as death and withdrew, tottering like adrunkard, and muttering, in a low voice,--

  "Oh, these nobles!"

  "Well?" Natah Otann asked him.

  "He refuses," he answered quickly.

  "I was sure of it. Now it is our turn."

  Raising to his lips his war whistle, he produced a shrill andlengthened sound, to which the Indians responded with a frightful yell,and rushed like a legion of demons on the three men, who received themwithout yielding an inch. The melee recommenced in all its fury; thethree men clubbed their rifles, and dealt crushing blows around. Ivonperformed prodigies of valour, rising and sinking his rifle with theregularity of a pendulum, smashing a man at every blow, and muttering,--

  "Ouf, there's another: holy Virgin, I feel my terror coming upon me."

  Still the circle drew closer round the three men; others took theplaces of the Indians who fell, and were in their turn pushed onward bythose behind. The hunters were weary of striking. Their arms did notfall with the same vigour; their blows failed in regularity; the bloodrose to their heads; their eyes were injected with blood, and they hada dizziness in their ears.

  "We are lost!" the Count muttered.

  "Courage!" Bright-eye yelled, as he smashed in the skull of an Indian.

  "It is not courage that fails me, but strength," the young mananswered, in a fainting voice.

  "Forward, forward!" Natah Otann repeated, bounding like a demon roundthe three men.

  "Now, Ivon, now!" Bright-eye cried out.

  "Good bye," the Breton replied.

  And turning his terrible weapon round his head, he rushed into thedensest throng of the Indians.

  "Follow me, Count," Bright-eye went on.

  "Come on then," the latter shouted.

  The two men executed on the opposite side the manoeuvre attempted bythe Breton. Ivon, the coward you know, seemed to have at the momententirely forgotten his fear of being speared; he appeared, likeBriareus, to have a hundred arms to level the numerous assailants whoincessantly rose before him, and cleft his way through the throng.Fortunately for the Breton, most of the Indians had rushed in pursuitof game more valuable to them, that is, the Count and the Canadian, whohad redoubled their efforts, though already so prodigious.

  While still fighting, Ivon had reached the skirt of the wood, aboutthree or four yards from the spot where the horses were tied. Thiswas probably what the Breton wished for. So soon as he found himselfin a straight line with the horses, instead of pushing forward as hehad hitherto done, he began to fall back step to step, so as to arriveclose to them. Still, he always fought with that cold resolution whichdistinguishes the Bretons, and renders them such terrible foemen.

  Suddenly, when he found himself near enough to the horses, Ivon gave aparting blow to the nearest Indian, sent him staggering backwards witha dashed-in skull, took a panther leap, and reached the Count's horse.In a second he had mounted, dug his spurs into the flanks of the nobleanimal, and galloped off, after knocking down two Indians who tried tostop him.

  "Hurrah! saved! saved!" he shouted, in a voice of thunder, as hedisappeared in the forest, where the Blackfeet did not dare to followhim.

  The Redskins stood stupefied by such a prodigious flight. The cryuttered by Ivon was doubtlessly a signal agreed on between him andBright-eye; for, so soon as he heard it, the hunter, by a hurriedmovement, seized the Count's arm as he was in the act of striking.

  "What on earth are you about?" the latter said, turning to him angrily.

  "I am saving you," the hunter replied, coolly; "throw down yourweapon!--We surrender," he then exclaimed.

  "You will explain your conduct, I presume?" the Count continued.

  "Be of good cheer; you will approve it."

  "Be it so."

  And he threw the gun down. The Indians, whom the hunters' heroicdefence kept at a distance, rushed upon them so soon as they saw theywere disarmed, Natah Otann and White Buffalo h
urried up; the two menalready were thrown down on the sand, when the Chief interposed.

  "Sir," he said, "you are my prisoner; and you too, Bright-eye."

  The young man shrugged his shoulders with contempt.

  "Reckon up what your victory has already cost you," the hunter replied,with a sardonic smile, and pointing to the numerous corpses that lay onthe plain. Natah Otann, however, pretended not to hear this remark.

  "If you will give me your word of honour not to escape, gentlemen,"White Buffalo said, "you will be unloosed, and your weapons restored toyou."

  "Is this another trap you are laying for us?" the Count asked,haughtily.

  "Bah!" Bright-eye said, with a significant glance at his comrade, "wewill give our word for four-and-twenty hours; after that, we willsee."

  "You hear, gentlemen," the young man said; "this hunter and myselfpledge our words for four-and-twenty hours. Does that suit you? Ofcourse, at the end of that time, we are free to recall it."

  "Or to pledge it again," the Canadian added, with a smile; "what do werisk by doing so?"

  The two Chiefs exchanged a few whispered words.

  "We accept," Natah Otann at length said.

  At a sign from him, the prisoners' bonds were cut, and they rose.

  "Hum!" Bright-eye said, stretching himself with delight, "it does onegood to have the use of his limbs. Bah! I knew they would not kill methis time, either."

  "Here are your horses and arms, gentlemen," the Chief said.

  "Permit me," the Count remarked coolly, drawing his watch from hispocket, "it is now half-after seven; you have our parole till the sametime tomorrow evening."

  "Very good," White Buffalo said, with a bow.

  "And now, where are you going to take us, if you please?" the hunterasked, with a crafty look.

  "To the village!"

  "Thank you."

  The two men jumped into their saddles, and followed the Indians, whoonly waited for them to start. Ten minutes later, this place, on whichso many events had occurred during the day, became again calm andsilent.

  We will leave the Count and the hunter returning to the village undergood escort, to follow the track of Ivon.

  After leaving the battlefield, the latter rode straight ahead, notcaring to lose precious time in looking for a path; for the moment allwere good, provided that they bore him from the enemies he had soprovidentially escaped. Still, after galloping for about an hour acrossthe wood, reassured by the perfect silence that prevailed around him,he gradually checked his horse's speed. It was high time for this ideato occur to him, as the poor horse, so harshly treated, was beginningto break down. The Breton profited by this slight truce to reload hisweapons.

  "I am not brave," he said in a low voice, "but by Jove! as my poormaster says, the first scamp that attempts to bar my way, I will blowout his brains, so surely as my name is Ivon."

  And the worthy man would have done as he said, we feel assured. Afteradvancing a few hundred yards, Ivon looked around, stopped his horse,and dismounted.

  "What is the use of going any farther?" he said, resuming hissoliloquy; "my horse wants rest, and I shall not be the worse for ahalt. As well here as elsewhere."

  On this, he took off his horse's saddle, carried his master'sportmanteau to the foot of a tree, and began lighting a fire.

  "How quickly night comes on in this confounded country," he muttered;"it is hardly eight o'clock, and it is as black as in an oven."

  While discoursing thus all alone, he had collected a considerablequantity of dry wood; he returned to the spot he had selected forcamping, piled up the wood, struck a light, knelt, and began blowingwith all the strength of his lungs to make it catch. In a moment heraised his head to breathe; but uttered a yell of terror, and almostfell backwards. He had seen, about three paces from the fire, twopersons silently watching him. The first moment of surprise past, theBreton bounded on his feet, and cocked his pistols.

  "Confuse you," he shouted, "you gave me a pretty fright; but no matter,we will see."

  "My brother may be at rest," a soft voice replied, in bad English, "wedo not wish to do him any harm."

  As a Breton, Ivon spoke nearly as good English as he did French. Onhearing these words, he bent forward, and looked. "Oh!" he said, "theIndian girl."

  "Yes, it is I," Prairie-Flower answered, as she stepped forward.

  Her companion followed her, and Ivon recognized Red Wolf.

  "You are welcome," he remarked, "to my poor encampment."

  "Thanks," she answered.

  "How is it that you are here?"

  "And you?" she said, answering one question by another.

  "Oh, I!" he said, shaking his head, "that is a sad story."

  "What does my brother mean?" Red Wolf asked.

  "Good, good," the Breton said, turning his head; "that is my business,and not yours. First, tell me what brings you to me, and I will thensee if I may confide to you what has happened to my master and myself."

  "My brother is prudent," Prairie-Flower answered, "he is right:prudence is good on the prairie."

  "Hum! I wish my master had heard you make that remark, perhaps he wouldnot be where he now is."

  Prairie-Flower gave a start of terror.

  "Wah! has any misfortune happened to him?" she said, in an agonizedvoice.

  Ivon looked at her.

  "You appear to take an interest in him?"

  "He is brave," she exclaimed, passionately; "this morning he killedthe cougars that threatened Prairie-Flower; she has a heart--she willremember."

  "That is true; quite true, young lady," he said; "he saved your life.Tell me first, though, how it is we should have met in this forest."

  "Listen, then, as you insist."

  The Breton bowed. To all his other qualities Ivon added that of beingas obstinate as an Andalusian mule. Once the worthy man had taken atheory into his head, nothing could turn him from it. We must grant,however, that he had at present excellent reason to distrust theIndians.

  Prairie-Flower continued:--

  "After Glass-eye had so bravely killed the cougars," she said, withconsiderable emotion, "the great Chief, Natah Otann, was angry withPrairie-Flower, and ordered her to return to the village with Red Wolf."

  "I know all that," Ivon interrupted, "I was there; and that is why itseems to me so extraordinary to meet you here when you should have beenon the road to the village."

  The Indian girl gave one of those little pouts peculiar to her, andwhich rendered her so seductive.

  "The pale man is as curious as an old squaw," she said, with an accentof ill-humour; "why does he wish to know Prairie-Flower's secret? Shehas in her heart a little bird which sings pleasant songs to her, andattracts her in the footsteps of the Paleface who saved her."

  "Ah!" said the Breton, partly catching the girl's meaning; "that isdifferent."

  "Instead of returning to the village," Red Wolf interposed,"Prairie-Flower wished to return to the side of Glass-eye."

  The Breton reflected for a long time; the two Indians watched himsilently, patiently waiting till he thought proper to explain himself.Presently, he raised his head, and, fixing his cunning grey eye on thegirl, he asked her distinctly,--

  "You love him, then?"

  "Yes," she answered, looking down on the ground.

  "Very good. Now listen attentively to what I am about to tell you; itwill interest you prodigiously, or I am greatly mistaken."

  The two hearers bent down toward him, and listened attentively. Ivonthen related most copiously his master's conversation with the twoChiefs; the dispute that arose between them; the combat that ensuedfrom it, and the way in which he had escaped.

  "If I did run away," he said, in conclusion, "heaven is my witness thatit was not for the purpose of saving my life. Though I am a desperatecoward, I would never hesitate to sacrifice my life for him; butBright-eye advised me to act in this way, so that I may try and findassistance for them both."

  "Good," the girl said, quickly; "the
Paleface is brave. What does heintend to do?"

  "I mean to save my master, by Jove!" the Breton said, resolutely. "Theonly thing is, that I do not know how to set about it."

  "Prairie-Flower knows. She will help the Paleface."

  "Is what you promise really true, young girl?"

  The Indian maid smiled.

  "The Paleface will follow Prairie-Flower and Red Wolf," she said;"they will lead him to a spot where he will find friends."

  "Good; and when will you do it, my good girl?" he asked, his heartpalpitating with joy.

  "So soon as the Paleface is ready to start."

  "At once, then, at once!" the Breton exclaimed, hurriedly rising, andhurrying to his horse.

  Prairie-Flower and Red Wolf had concealed their steeds in the centre ofa clump of trees. Ten minutes later, and Ivon and his guides quittedthe clearing where they had met; it was about midnight when theystarted.

  "My poor master!" the Breton muttered. "Shall I be permitted to savehim?"