CHAPTER III.
THE COMPACT.
Don Martial gazed at the hunter in amazement.
"What do you mean?" he asked him. "I don't understand you."
"You will soon do so, my friend," Valentine answered. "How long have youbeen roaming about this neighbourhood?"
"Nearly two months."
"In that case you are well acquainted, I presume, with the mountainsamong which we are at this moment?"
"There is not a tree or a rock whose exact position I cannot tell, nor awild beast trail which I have not followed."
"Good: are we far from a spot called the 'Fort of the Chichimeques?'"
The Tigrero reflected for a moment.
"Do you know by what Indians these mountains are inhabited?" he atlength asked.
"Yes, by poor wretches who call themselves the Root-Eaters, and whom thehunters and trappers designate by the name of the 'Worthy of Pity.' Theyare, I believe, timid, harmless creatures, a species of incomplete men,in whom brutal instincts have stifled the intellect; however, I onlyspeak of them from hearsay, for I never saw one of the poor devils."
"You are perfectly well informed about them, and they are what youdepict them. I have often had opportunities of meeting them, and havelamented the degree of brutalization into which this hapless race hasfallen."
"Permit me to remark that I do not see what connection can exist betweenthis unhappy tribe and the information I ask of you."
"There is a very great one. Since I have been roaming about thesemountains you are the first man of my own colour with whom I haveconsented to enter into relations. The Root-Eaters have neither historynor traditions. Their life is restricted to eating, drinking, andsleeping, and I have not learned from them any of the names given to themajestic peaks that surround us. Hence, though I perfectly well know thespot to which you refer, unless you describe it differently, it will beimpossible for me to tell you its exact position."
"That is true; but what you ask of me is very awkward, for this is thefirst time I have visited these parts, and it will be rather difficultfor me to describe a place I am not acquainted with. Still, I will try.There is, not far from here, I believe, a road which traverses the RockyMountains obliquely, and runs from the United States to Santa Fe; at acertain spot this road must intersect another which leads to California."
"I am perfectly well acquainted with the roads to which you refer, andthe caravans of emigrants, hunters, and miners follow them in going toCalifornia, or returning thence."
"Good! At the spot where these two roads cross they form a speciesof large square, surrounded on all sides by rocks that rise to aconsiderable height. Do you know the place I mean?"
"Yes," the Tigrero answered.
"Well, about two gunshots from this square is a track winding nearly inan east-south-east course, along the side of the mountains. This track,at first so narrow that a horse even passes with difficulty, graduallywidens till it reaches a species of esplanade, or terrace, if you likeit better, which commands an extensive prospect, while on its edgeare the remains of barbarous erections, which can, however, be easilyrecognized as an ancient parapet. This terrace is called the 'Fort ofthe Chichimeques,' though for what reason I cannot tell you."
"I know no more than you do on that head, although I can now assureyou that I am perfectly acquainted with the place to which you refer,and have often camped there on stormy nights, because there is a deepcavern, excavated by human hands, and divided into several passages,every turning of which I know, and which has offered me a preciousshelter during those frightful tempests which, at intervals, overthrowthe face of nature in these regions."
"I was not aware of the existence of this grotto," the hunter said,with a glad start, "and I thank you for having told me of it; it willbe very useful for the execution of the plans I have formed. Are we anygreat distance from this terrace?"
"In a straight line, not more than five or six miles, and, if it wereday, I could show it to you; but as we must ride round to reach thecaravan road, which we are obliged to follow in order to reach thetracks, we have about three hours' ride before us."
"That is a trifle, for I was afraid I had lost my way in thesemountains, which are strange to me. I am delighted to find that my oldexperience has not failed me this time, and that my hunter's instinctshave not deceived me."
While saying this, Valentine had risen to explore the clearing. Thestorm had ceased, the wind had swept away the clouds, the deep blue skywas studded with brilliant stars, and the moon profusely shed its rays,which imparted a fantastic appearance to the landscape by casting theshadows of the lofty trees athwart the snow, whose pallid carpet spreadfar as eye could see.
"'Tis a magnificent night," the hunter said, after carefully examiningthe sky for some moments. "It is an hour past midnight, and I do notfeel the slightest inclination to sleep. Are you fatigued?"
"I am never so," the Tigrero answered, with a smile.
"All right: in that case you are like myself, a thorough wood ranger.What do you think of a ride in this magnificent moonlight?"
"I think that after a good supper and an interesting conversationnothing so thoroughly restores the balance of a man's thoughts as anight ride in the company of a friend."
"Bravo! that is what I call speaking. Now, as every ride to bereasonable should have an object, we will go, if you have no objection,as far as the Fort of the Chichimeques."
"I was about to propose it; and, as we ride along, you will tell me inyour turn what imperious motive compelled you to come to these unknownregions, and what the project is to which you alluded."
"As for that," the hunter said, with a knowing smile, "I cannot satisfyyou; at any rate not for the present, as I wish you to have the pleasureof a surprise. But be easy, I will not put your patience to too long atrial."
"You will act as you think proper, for I trust entirely to you. I knownot why, but I am persuaded, either through a sentiment or sympathy,that in doing your own business you will be doing mine at the same time."
"You are nearer the truth at this moment than you perhaps imagine, so beof good cheer, brother."
"The happy meeting has already made a different man of me," the Tigrerosaid, as he rose.
The hunter laid his hand on his shoulder. "One moment," he said tohim; "before leaving this bivouac, where we met so providentially,let us clearly agree as to our facts, so as to avoid any futuremisunderstanding."
"Be it so," Don Martial answered. "Let us make a compact in the Indianfashion, and woe to the one who breaks it."
"Well said, my friend," Valentine remarked, as he drew his knife fromhis belt. "Here is my navaja, brother; may it serve you as it has doneme to avenge your wrongs and mine."
"I receive it in the face of that Heaven which I call as witness of thepurity of my intentions. Take mine in exchange, and one half my powderand bullets, brother."
"I accept it as a thing belonging to me, and here is half my ammunitionfor you; henceforth we cannot fire at one another, all is in commonbetween us. Your friends will be my friends, and you will point out yourenemies to me, so that I may aid you in your vengeance. My horse isyours."
"Mine belongs to you, and in a few moments I will place it at yourservice."
Then the two men, leaning shoulder to shoulder, with clasped hands, eyesfixed on heaven, and outstretched arm, uttered together the followingwords:
"I take God to witness that of my own free will, and withoutreservation, I take as my friend and brother the man whose hand is atthis moment pressing mine. I will help him in everything he asks ofme, without hope of reward, ready by day and night to answer his firstsignal, without hesitation, and without reproach, even if he asked mefor my life. I take this oath in the presence of God, who sees andhears me and may He come to my help in all I undertake, and punish meif I ever break my oath."
There was something grand and solemn in this simple act, performed bythese two powerful men, beneath the pallid moonbeams, and in the heartof the desert, al
one, far from all human society, face to face withGod, confiding in each, and seeming thus to defy the whole world. Afterrepeating the words of the oath, they kissed each other's lips in turn,then embraced, and finally shook hands again.
"Now let us be off, brother," Valentine said; "I confide in you as inmyself; we shall succeed in triumphing over our enemies, and repayingthem all the misery they have caused us."
"Wait for me ten minutes, brother; my horse is hidden close by."
"Go; and during that time I will saddle mine, which is henceforth yours."
Don Martial hurried away, leaving Valentine alone.
"This time," he muttered, "I believe that I have at length met the man Ihave been looking for so long, and whom I despaired to find; with him,Curumilla, and Belhumeur, I can begin the struggle, for I am certain Ishall not be abandoned or treacherously surrendered to the enemy I wishto combat."
While indulging after his wont in this soliloquy, the hunter had lassoedhis horse, and was busily engaged in saddling it. He had just put thebit in its mouth, when the Tigrero re-entered the clearing, mounted ona magnificent black steed.
Don Martial dismounted.
"This is your horse, my friend," he said.
"And this is yours."
The exchange thus effected, the two men mounted, and left the clearingin which they had met so strangely. The Tigrero had told no falsehoodwhen he said that a metamorphosis had taken place in him, and thathe felt a different man. His features had lost their marble-likerigidity; his eyes were animated, and no longer burned with a sombre andconcentrated fire. Even though his glances were still somewhat haggard,their expression was more frank and, before all, kinder; he sat firm andupright in the saddle, and, in a word, seemed ten years younger.
This unexpected change had not escaped the notice of the all-observingFrenchman, and he congratulated himself for having effected this moralcure, and saved a man of such promise from the despair which he hadallowed to overpower him.
We have already said that it was a magnificent night. For men likeour characters, accustomed to cross the desert in all weathers, theride in the darkness was a relaxation rather than a fatigue. They rodealong side by side, talking on indifferent topics--hunting, trapping,expeditions against the Indians--subjects always pleasing to woodrangers, while rapidly advancing towards the spot they wished to reach.
"By-the-bye," Valentine all at once said, "I must warn you, brother,that if you are not mistaken, and we are really following the road tothe Fort of the Chichimeques, we shall probably meet several personsthere; they are friends of mine, with whom I have an appointment, and Iwill introduce them to you; for reasons you will speedily learn, thesefriends followed a different road from mine, and must have been waitingfor some time at the place of meeting."
"I do not care who the persons are we meet, as they are friends ofyours," the Tigrero answered; "the main point is that we make nomistake."
"On my word, I confess my incompetence, so far as that is concerned;this is the first time I have ventured into the Rocky Mountains, whereI hope never to come again, and so I deliver myself entirely into yourhands."
"I will do my best, although I do not promise positively to lead you tothe place you want to reach."
"Nonsense!" the hunter said with a smile; "two places like the one Ihave described to you can hardly be found in these parts, picturesqueand diversified though they be, and it would be almost impossible tolose our way."
"At any rate," the Tigrero answered, "we shall soon know what we have todepend on, for we shall be there within half an hour."
The sky was beginning to grow paler; the horizon was belted by wide,pellucid bands, which assumed in turn every colour of the rainbow. Inthe flashing uncertain light of dawn, objects were invested with amore fugitive appearance, although, on the other hand, they became moredistinct.
The adventurers had passed the crossroads, and turned into a narrowtrack, whose capricious windings ran along rocks, which were almostsuspended over frightful abysses. The riders had given up all attemptsto guide their horses, and trusted to their instinct; they had laidtheir bridles on their necks, leaving them at liberty to go where theypleased--a prudent precaution, which cannot be sufficiently recommendedto travellers under similar circumstances.
All at once a streak of light illumined the landscape, and the sun roseradiant and splendid; behind them the travellers still had the shadowsof night, while before them the snowy peaks of the mountains--wereglistening in the sun.
"Well," the hunter exclaimed, "we can now see clearly, and I hope thatwe shall soon perceive the Fort of the Chichimeques."
"Look ahead of you over the jagged crest of that hill," the Tigreroanswered, stretching out his arm; "that is the terrace to which I amleading you."
The hunter stopped, for he felt giddy, and almost ready to fall off hishorse. About two miles from him, but separated from the spot where hestood by an impassable canyon, an immense esplanade stretched out intospace in the shape of a _voladero_; that is to say, in consequence ofone of those earthquakes so common in these regions, the base of themountain had been undermined, while the crest remained intact, and hungfor a considerable distance above a valley, apparently about to fall atany moment; the spectacle was at once imposing and terrific.
"Heaven forgive me!" the hunter muttered, "but I really believe I wasfrightened; I felt all my muscles tremble involuntarily. Oh! I will notlook at it again; let us get along, my friend."
They set out again, still following the windings of the tract, whichgradually grew steeper; and, after a very zigzag course, reached theterrace half an hour later.
"This is certainly the place," the hunter exclaimed, as he pointed tothe decaying embers of a watch fire.
"But your friends--?" the Tigrero asked.
"Did you not tell me there was a grotto close by?"
"I did."
"Well, they doubtless concealed themselves in the grotto when they heardus approaching."
"That is possible."
"It is true: look."
The hunter discharged his gun, and at the sound three men appeared,though it was impossible to say whence they came. They were Belhumeur,Black Elk, and Eagle-head.
The Red Track: A Story of Social Life in Mexico Page 5
