Adventures Among the Red Indians Part 12

"Canoes, _Hoheit_; and Indians in them," promptly answered the naval captain, more accustomed than the rest to long-distance gazing.

"Well, well; let us ride on. They probably intend us no harm."

Just then a valet, who was riding a little to the rear, hurried forward.

"Your Highness may perceive that we are being followed," he said; and pointed behind him to a group of thirty Indians of some other tribe than the Caribs, who were moving along on foot at a steady double; and among the trees closer at hand several more could be seen.

"Better to ignore them for the present," said the Prince. "Evidently the village is not far away; time enough to stop when we come to it."

"This looks like an ambuscade," muttered Oriolla to the man riding next him. They had come almost to the end of the little patch of forest, and, beyond the last belt of trees, the heads and forefeet of several horses drawn up in line could be seen. The words were hardly out of his mouth when, howling at the top of their voices, two dozen men shot out from the cover indicated and rode at full speed towards the new-comers.

"Pistols out; but let no one fire unless I give the word," shouted the Prince. "Ha! Here come the others from behind."

The second lot of Indians had increased their pace, and the Prussians saw themselves about to be hemmed between two little forces of yelling savages. Within a few yards, both parties of redskins halted and either brandished their axes or fitted arrows to their bows.

"What do you want?" shouted the Prince in Spanish.

"You are our prisoners; you must come with us to our camp," said a young Indian, advancing his horse a foot or two. "Give up your arms."

The Prince looked round at his followers. They only numbered thirteen, all told, five of whom had never been under fire in their lives. Then he said resolutely:

"Certainly we will come with you; but we shall not give up our arms; and if any violence is attempted, I warn you that we shall fire on you."

None of the Indians carried guns, and for that reason the Prince had more faith in the efficacy of his threat.

"Very well," said the leader of the mounted Indians. "Follow us."

It was but a short distance to the village or camp or _tolderia_; and, at the entrance to it, the Guaranis (for to that tribe they belonged) dismounted, and each of the white men found his bridle seized by an Indian.

"Who is your chief? Where is your cacique?" demanded Prince Adalbert impatiently.

His captors pointed to a young man who, accompanied by another much older, had just appeared from the largest of the huts and was coming towards them. The young chief proved to be a very mild-mannered person. He said half apologetically that the tribe was poor, and that strangers were expected to make some offering on coming among them.

"We were prepared to make presents," said the Prince good-humouredly, "but we object to being asked for them."

The older man--evidently the Ahithophel of the tribe--whispered something, whereupon the chief said more spiritedly:

"You have been taken prisoners in our forest. You must ransom yourselves"--Ahithophel whispered again--"by giving up your arms and your baggage."

Those of the Prussians who understood the cacique's Spanish c.o.c.ked their pistols.

"Patience; we must reason with them," said the Prince in his own language.

He was trying to think of the most potent argument to employ, when a sudden outcry arose on all hands, and more than half the Indians, including the chief and his evil genius, turned towards the river as though in haste to meet someone. The canoes which the travellers had seen from a distance were drawing up to the wooden landing-stage.

"What's this? What are they all doing?" asked the Prince; as well he might, for his a.s.sailants, so clamorous and threatening only a moment before, were falling on their knees one after the other, crossing themselves and shouting jubilantly:

"The padre! The holy padre!"

A pleasant-faced, athletic-looking man, wearing a large _sombrero_ and a priest's ca.s.sock, was standing on the little quay, holding up his hand to bless the kneeling crowd, and at the same time throwing a quick glance of curiosity towards the prisoners.

"At least he's a white man," said the Prince, much relieved, as he signed to Count Oriolla to dismount and go to speak to the new-comer.

In a couple of minutes he saw both men hurrying towards him. The priest raised his hat and, in excellent German, introduced himself as a Scots Jesuit whose duty it was to make periodical visits to the camps that had no church, to administer the sacraments to the devout.

"You must look leniently on them," he said when the position was explained. "They are just grownup children. I will see that a proper apology is made. I suspect I can put my hand on the black sheep." He pointed at Ahithophel, and, speaking in Spanish, ordered him and the cacique to come forward. Before he had spoken for a couple of minutes, it was clear enough to the strangers that the good missionary knew the cla.s.s of men with whom he had to deal. Led by the cacique, the Indians were soon sobbing and groaning in chorus; and even the grey-headed counsellor bewailed his indiscretion when, pa.s.sing from the moral to the politic side of the question, the Scotsman hinted at the possibilities of a German invasion to avenge this insult to royalty; and ended by forbidding anyone in the village, as a penance, to receive any present whatever from the travellers.

The power that just one white man of quick brain and strong will had over all these savages seemed incredible. The Prussians remained in the village three days, and during that time the Indians strained every effort to please and entertain them; not an article of their property was interfered with, and when, on leaving, the Prince--forgetting the padre's prohibition--offered trifling presents of knives, jewellery, and silk handkerchiefs, everyone edged away as though these things were poison.

"They have been _good_ children, Father," pleaded the Prince, and so earnestly that the Jesuit was obliged to give way; whereupon the Guaranis accepted the gifts with tears of grat.i.tude, and readily offered a supply of guides who would ensure the travellers against molestation by others of their tribe between there and the Andes.

On the last day of their stay it was reported that a tapir had been seen in the forest a mile or two back; and the Scots cleric, himself a keen sportsman, undertook to show the Prussians a native hunt at its best. In this, however, he did not quite succeed, for some of the younger members of the tribe stole a march on the rest, and the visitors only saw the "finish." The lads had started earlier in the morning, had discovered the tapir and driven him through the forest towards the river; and, as the white men reached the most practicable path, the ungainly beast charged out of it and made straight towards the water. But the cacique was too quick for him. Spurring his horse with the sharp angles of his stirrups, he dashed from the rear of the Prussians and flung his la.s.so over the animal's head.

But this was not all. The tapir cared no more for this than a whale does for a single harpoon and line, and rushed straight on for the river, apparently dragging the hunter with him. All in a moment, however, there came a clatter of hoofs, a cloud of dead leaves, chips, and dust, and four of the beaters dashed out from the forest path with their la.s.soes poised, and each bawling like a man possessed.

Two la.s.soes whistled past the Prince's head and seemed to fall at exactly the same moment on that of the tapir; these were followed by a third, which, as the beast had made a half stop, just missed him; then by a fourth, which fell unerringly.

Even then the power of this strange animal was amazing, and for a minute it seemed as though he must draw his captors into the river; but, at a shout from the cacique, the three hunters followed his example, swung their horses round, and spurred them so terrifically that they towed the quarry back, foot by foot, till he fell over on his side with all the breath strangled out of him. Then the cacique, as the first to get his la.s.so "home," handed the thong to another hunter, dismounted, and gave the tapir his quietus with his spear.

CHAPTER XII

INDIAN WARFARE IN CALIFORNIA

One of America's great naval commanders--Captain Henry Augustus Wise--made use of the opportunity afforded him by the Mexican War of 1846-7 to collect material for a very engrossing account of some Indians concerning whom little was then known: the coast Comanches of Lower California and Mexico. The Captain--a cousin of Governor Wise of Virginia, and an intimate friend of Rear-Admiral Wilkes--was at that time second lieutenant of the man-of-war _Independence_, a steamship which was cruising between San Francisco and the Gulf of California.

His first acquaintance with the Western redskins was when he was sent ash.o.r.e at Monterey, a hundred and twenty miles south of San Francisco, to reconnoitre the country and offer protection--or, if need be, a means of escape--to any United States subjects settled in the district. Let it be remembered that the California of that day was vastly different even from the California of two years later. Its hidden gold was only known to the Comanches and other Shoshonee tribes, and a few Mexican Spaniards; Monterey was still the capital, while "Frisco" was but a little market-town; above all, the Yankees had as yet scarce more than a foothold in the state, the greater part of it being (till the end of that war) under Mexican sway; and the coast Indians had not yet had their own virtues knocked out of them and replaced by the vices of the white diggers of '49.

Lieutenant Wise and his boat's crew, on leaving the town, began to make their way down-country between the coast and the Buonaventura River, relying for hospitality mainly on the American settlers, many of whom did a thriving and regular trade in skins. They found the district tolerably quiet, though there were reports of various fierce battles between the Comanches and their old enemies the Apaches, many of the latter being, it was said, in the pay of the Mexicans. It was at a trappers' camp that Wise heard this piece of news, a queer little circle of log-huts erected on a wide clearing in one of the river forests which they came upon by accident late one afternoon. The trappers--all of them American or American-Irish--gave a very cordial welcome to the little party, though they would not at first admit the necessity for their offer of protection.

"See here," said one of them. "The Mexicans are shifting down south right hard, and all you're likely to see, you've seen in Monterey.

Your ship, or else some other, has bombarded Santa Barbara already; and, like as not, is clearing San Diego out by now. As for the redskins, take an old stager's advice and let 'em fight it out theirselves. There's one lot we'd like very well to get hold of, but the rest we don't vally a cuss."

"Who are they?" asked Wise, sitting down to the meal of grilled deer's meat that was set before him.

"More'n we can tell ye. Some o' that coyotero lot that have learned to use a rifle; for gun-stealing and horse and rifle-lifting they've got no living ekals. Last week they killed two of our fellows at a camp up the river; scalped 'em; broke open the magazine, and got away with all the powder and lead, as well as half a dozen spare guns. 'Twas no good the rest going to look for 'em when they came home; p'raps they were half a hundred miles away by then."

"I've had orders to seize all firearms found on Indians," said the lieutenant.

"And don't forget it," said one of his hosts. "Take my word, them guns, and a good many hundreds beside, have gone down-country to the Mexicans; and the Injuns are allowed to keep all the horses and eat all the mules for their reward."

"Eat the mules?"

"What else? What _won't_ Apaches eat, for that matter? How do you reckon they come to be called _coyoteros_? Half of 'em 'd live on coyotes" (prairie wolves) "and never touch anything more Christian, if they had their way. Well; I s'pose we'll get a visit from 'em next; so far we've lost nothing but horses."

"Are all of you in camp now?" asked Wise. At present he had only seen fourteen men.

"No; there's six gone across the river to trade for horses; for, barring what they're riding, we've only got one left, and he's sick.