The Queen of the Savannah: A Story of the Mexican War

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER XXXIV.

  THE TEOCALI.

  Sotavento was completely exhausted by the efforts he had been compelledto make in reaching the islet on which he had so luckily found arefuge. For nearly an hour he lay with his eyes closed and in a halffainting state. When his strength had gradually returned, when hisblood began to circulate more freely and his ideas regained theirequilibrium, he thought of the horse, which, in his present situation,became the more precious to him, as the animal alone could save him.

  The poor brute had halted a few paces from its master with hanginghead and piteous look. The Indian rose, picked up a pebble, went tothe horse coaxingly, and began vigorously rubbing all parts of itsbody, after which operation he dried it with a wisp of grass. Thehorse perceiving the comfort this produced, whinnied with pleasureas it rubbed its intelligent head against the Indian's shoulder, andthen began eagerly browsing the grass which grew profusely in thissequestered spot.

  "Come," Sotavento muttered with visible satisfaction, "this poor brutehas had a luckier escape than I expected; it has bottom, and will beall right after a few hours' rest."

  Certain of finding his steed again when he wanted it, he let it browsein peace, and went off to examine the islet and find out the exactnature of his position, whether good or bad. He could not think ofeating, for he was utterly without provisions, but that troubled himvery slightly. The Indians, like all nomadic races, are accustomed toendure without complaint, and almost without noticing them, privationswhich would render a European desperate and incapable of getting out ofthe scrape. The only weapon the Stag possessed was the knife he tookfrom the soldier whom he had scalped; and hence he must display thegreatest prudence, and carefully avoid a meeting with either men orwild beasts.

  The islet on which he found himself was rather large and completelycovered with wood. The Indian walked its entire length; but on reachingthe end he uttered a cry of disappointment, for he noticed a _portage_,that is to say, a line of rocks crossed the whole width of the river,and formed an impassable crest of breakers; hence he could not dreamof gaining the mainland on that side. Had he been alone he wouldhave probably tried, and by his skill and strength have succeeded inreaching land by leaping from one rock to another; but he would notabandon his horse.

  On the American savannahs a man unarmed and without a horse ishopelessly lost. Sotavento was aware of this, hence the thought didnot occur to him of going away alone. He had crossed the whole lengthof the isle, and now resolved to go round it. It was a rough job tobe undertaken by a man who had not taken any food for twenty-fourhours, and whose strength was exhausted by long moral and physicalfatigue; still his salvation depended on his resolution, and he did nothesitate. His search was protracted, and for a lengthy period sterile;he walked slowly along the sand with his eyes fixed on the oppositebank, seeking, without desponding, a spot where his horse could standand climb the scarp with no excessive difficulty. At last he noticedat about the centre of the isle a place where the water was muchclearer than elsewhere; it was a shallow ford, for the sand forming theriverbed was visible. He boldly entered the water and walked forward;he was not mistaken; he had really found a wide ford whose depth didnot exceed two feet.

  This discovery was most lucky; but this was not enough; he must assurehimself whether the slope of the opposite bank was not too steep forhis horse's hoofs. The Indian continued his march and crossed theriver. Then he saw what he had been unable to discover from the isle--amass of rock projected some distance into the stream and formed anelbow, behind which opened a species of haven, ascending to the top ofthe cliff by an almost insensible incline. The deeply formed marks inthe sand indicated that this was a watering place to which wild beastsproceeded to drink at night. People say that a slice of luck nevercomes alone; Sotavento had a proof of this on the present occasion,for the ford and road were on the side of the stream to which he wouldhave to cross in order to join his tribe. Henceforth at his ease, andcertain of rejoining his friends, the Stag returned to the isle.

  The sun had risen a long time, and the heat was beginning to growintolerable. The Indian, who was in no hurry, resolved to let the greatheat pass and not start till toward evening; moreover, the violentexercise he had taken in seeking a passage had greatly fatigued him,and he needed rest. When he rubbed down his horse, he had unbuckledthe girths and removed the saddle, which he threw on the grass withoutlooking at it. On his return, at the moment when he sought a convenientspot for sleeping, his eyes fell accidentally on this saddle, and henoticed an _alforja_, or a species of double canvas pocket, which everyMexican carries with him when travelling, which he had not observed,for the simple reason that these bags, fastened behind the saddle, wereconcealed by a blanket and sheepskin, which almost entirely coveredthem.

  The poor soldier whom the Indian had killed carried in these alforjasall his wretched property, flint and steel, and tobacco, preciousthings for the fugitive; but what caused him greater pleasure still,there was nearly a yard of _tasajo_, meat dried in the sun, as well asa dozen biscuits, and a large lump of goat's cheese. All this was wetthough, it is true; but what did the Indian care for this, when he washalf dead of hunger.

  Instead of sleeping, as he had originally intended, Sotavento spreadout all the provisions on the ground to let them dry in the sun, whichwas effected in less than ten minutes, collected dry leaves, lit afire, roasted his tasajo, and began eating as Indians eat when theyhave long gone without food, that is to say, with no thought of themorrow. He devoured all his provisions at one meal; then, his hungerappeased, he filled his pipe, and began smoking with the beatitude andsatisfaction of a man whose life has hung by a thread, and who has onlybeen saved by a miracle.

  Sotavento thus spent the greater part of the day in a gentle _farniente_, smoking, sleeping, and ruminating plans of vengeance, for heconstantly thought of the two hapless prisoners he had left at theteocali, whom he was most anxious to rejoin now that he had escapedsuch imminent danger. When the sun began to elongate enormously theshadows of the trees, and its oblique beams had lost nearly all theirheat, the Indian considered it time to start; horse and rider, wellfed and rested, were in a condition to ride a long distance. Sotaventogot up, saddled his horse, and leading it by the bridle to save itunnecessary fatigue, waded through the ford; when he reached the otherbank, he took a parting glance of gratitude at this isle, which hadoffered him such pleasant shelter. Then he mounted, and whispering tohis horse the word "Santiago," he set out, as if borne on the wings ofthe wind, in the direction of the desert.

  It was not till nine o'clock of the next evening that he reached theford of the Rio del Norte. He crossed, let his horse breathe for awhile, and henceforth certain that the enemy could not catch him up,he continued his desperate ride across the savannah. Still, in spiteof his diligence, the Indian did not reach the teocali until the thirdevening after his flight. During his absence the number of his comradeshad greatly increased. The messenger he had sent to the village afterthe capture of Dona Emilia had returned, bringing with him all the maleand female members of the tribe whom pressing business did not detainat the atepetl. The Indians were curious to witness the punishment ofthe prisoners. With them it was an act of justice they were about toperform, for the vengeance they had pursued for so many years was onthe point of being consummated.

  Sotavento's first care, on reaching the teocali, was to inquire afterhis prisoners; they were still calm and resigned. The chief, in hisheart, was vexed at seeing so many warriors assembled; he, however,concealed his dissatisfaction, and, on the contrary, feigned great joy,intending, if circumstances demanded it, to act vigorously; but wishingtemporarily to remain neutral, lest he should arouse the suspicioussusceptibility of his comrades, and make them distrustful about theplans he was meditating. The Stag knew that, in case of necessity, hecould claim the support and assistance of the young warriors of thetribe, and that he would only have to contend with the old sachems, inwhose hearts no feeling but that of revenge any longer existed.

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sp; The council of the chiefs was assembled at the moment when he arrived,and he at once proceeded to it. The sachems received him with greatmarks of distinction, and congratulated him on the fortunate resultof his expedition; then they informed him of the measures decided onwith respect to the prisoners. These were simple and terrible; thetwo ladies would be fastened to the stake on the next day, torturedfor four hours, and then flayed alive and burnt. The Stag did notwince, he listened to these fearful details without manifesting theslightest emotion; but when the president of the council, who was noother than his father, had imparted to him these resolutions, he askedleave to speak, which was granted him. Then, in an artful harangue,perfectly suited to the intellect of the men who surrounded him, thechief adroitly went over, all the services he had rendered the tribe;the long exile to which he had been condemned in order to insure thesuccess of his plans; the countless difficulties he had had to overcomenot to arouse the suspicion of those whom he was betraying; whattrouble and care he had been obliged to take in at length securingthe captives. He insinuated that no reward had been offered him,although he had a right to claim one; that, according to the Indianfashion, women become the property of those who carry them off; that,consequently, the prisoners belonged to him, and that he alone hadthe right to decide their fate; but that, if he claimed this right atthe moment, it was not for the sake of thwarting the decision of thecouncil, but, on the contrary, to ensure the general vengeance, andrender it more exemplary.

  The chiefs, who at first listened to this address with markeddissatisfaction, applauded the unexpected finale, and urged the Stagto explain himself. The latter, inwardly satisfied with the effect hisremarks produced, only allowed himself to be pressed just long enoughto excite the general curiosity more.

  "What good is it torturing these two squaws in such a way? Is that themanner in which you would take your revenge? It would be ridiculous,and last but a few hours; and I propose something better. These womenare white, rich, and accustomed to all the refinements of luxury whichcivilization procures; deprive them of all this, not by killing them,but by letting them live in a condition a thousandfold worse thandeath. However cruel the palefaces may be, they love their children aswe love ours. This woman, whom the people of her own colour call DonaEmilia, whom we call the Queen of the Savannah, on account of all thewrongs she has dealt to us, adores her daughter. Order this girl tomarry a chief of the tribe, and force her mother to consent to thisunion. Once the wife of a chief, this haughty Spaniard will suffertortures a hundred times more terrible than those she would endure iffastened to the stake. The mother, witness of her daughter's sufferingand unable to calm or mitigate it, will suffer unusual and incessantgrief, which will be the more cruel as she can have no hope. Do you notthink that such vengeance is preferable to what you proposed?"

  The chiefs applauded enthusiastically; Running Water alone shook hishead dubiously.

  "That race is intractable," he said, "and nothing can tame it; thesewomen will not consent, they will not accept a proposition which mustappear to them dishonouring; they will prefer death."

  "In that case they shall die!" the Stag shouted, with a ferociousaccent.

  Running Water rose.

  "Yes," he said, "my son the Stag has spoken well; these palefaces,these Spaniards, whom the genius of evil sent in his wrath upon ourland, hunt us like wild beasts; I myself, a few days ago, only escapedfrom their clutches through the protection of the Wacondah! Let themother die, while the daughter becomes the squaw of the man whocaptured her; in that way our vengeance will be complete."

  "Let it be so," White Crow remarked. "The Stag will communicate to theprisoners the decision of the council."

  "I will do so," the chief said. "Give orders to prepare everything forthe torture, for, I repeat, they shall die tomorrow if they meet mewith a refusal."

  The council broke up; the chiefs retired to the tents erected forthem by their squaws, and soon fell asleep. The majordomo alone didnot think of rest; he proceeded at a rapid pace to the spot where theprisoners were. On reaching the wickerwork which formed the door, theIndian hesitated for a moment, but, surmounting the emotion whichcontracted his brow, he violently opened the door, and walked in. Thetwo ladies were sadly seated by a smouldering fire, with their headsbowed on their chests; at the noise produced by the chief's entrance,they quickly raised their heads, stifling a cry of surprise and terror.The Indian looked at them for a moment with an undefinable expression.

  "I frighten you," he said, in a low guttural voice, as he smiled.

  "No," Dona Emilia answered, "your presence does not terrify us, itmerely excites disgust."

  The chief frowned angrily, but checked himself.

  "It is dangerous," he said, "to rouse the lion when you are in hispower."

  "The lion?" she continued, disdainfully; "You mean the coyote. The lionis brave, his character is noble, and he only attacks enemies worthy ofhis fury."

  "Very good, I am a coyote," he continued with perfect calmness,"insult is permissible to persons who are about to die."

  "Die?" Dona Diana exclaimed, with an outburst of joy that confoundedthe Indian. "Oh, thanks, senor; this is the first time you have broughtme good news. When are we to die?"

  "Tomorrow," he replied, in a hollow voice. There was a mournfulsilence, and then the majordomo continued--

  "You seem very weary of life?"

  "Yes, of such a life as you have made it; I prefer death to remaininglonger exposed to the sufferings of every description to which I havebeen subjected during my captivity."

  "You can both live if you like," he said significantly. They shooktheir heads in denial, but said nothing.

  "At liberty," he continued.

  "At liberty?" the young lady repeated, her eyes suddenly lighting upwith a flash of hope.

  Dona Emilia gently laid her hand on her shoulder, and addressed thechief--

  "Come," she said, "explain yourself frankly; your words must concealsome terrible trap; on what condition are we to live and be free? Wemust be told these conditions in order to know whether we are able toaccept them."

  "Can life be bargained for in this way?"

  "Yes, where life is to be purchased with dishonour."

  "Tomorrow you will be fastened to the stake, and tortured for fourhours without respite or mercy."

  "What next?" Dona Emilia asked haughtily.

  "After that," he continued with an ill-omened smile, "you will beflayed alive, and burnt while still quivering."

  While uttering these cruel words, the chief fixed a viper glance on hiscaptives. Dona Emilia shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.

  "I am waiting for you to tell us the conditions on which you willallow us to live," she went on with a bitter smile. "They must be veryhorrible, since you, whom nothing checks, hesitate in revealing them tous."

  "You know the condition already," he said slowly.

  "Repeat it, I have forgotten it," Dona Emilia remarked.

  The chief made an effort over himself, and said in a choking voice--

  "That your daughter consents to become my wife."

  Dona Emilia broke into a loud harsh laugh, and looked at her daughter.The latter drew herself up proudly, walked toward the chief, who wasapparently calm, although a terrible tempest raged in his breast andfixed on him a glance of sovereign contempt.

  "Invent the most atrocious tortures," she said to him, "I prefer deathto such fearful degradation."

  "Well said, my child!" Dona Emilia exclaimed, as she passionatelypressed her to her heart.

  The chief stamped his foot passionately; he gave the two ladies aglance of implacable hatred and went away, after saying one word offrightful meaning, "Tomorrow." So soon as the ladies were alone, theyjoined hands, knelt and prayed fervently to Him who alone had the powerto save them.