The Pirates of the Prairies Part 22

"I have heard everything," she quickly retorted. "I know the odious propositions these men have dared to make, and the condition they had audacity to insist on."

"Well, why then does my sister wish to stop me?"

"Because," the maiden energetically exclaimed, "I will not accept that condition."

"By Heavens! That is fine," Valentine said joyfully; "that is what I call speaking."

"Yes," the young lady continued, "in my father's name I order you not to leave this island, chief--in my father's name, who, were he here, would order you as I do."

"I answer for that," Don Pablo said; "my father has too n.o.ble a heart to a.s.sent to an act of cowardice."

The maiden turned to the Indian chief, who had been stoically witnessing the scene.

"Begone, redskins," she went on with a majestic accent, impossible to render, "you see that all your victims escape you."

"Honour bids me go," the warrior murmured feebly.

Dona Clara took his hand between hers, and looked at him softly.

"Moukapec!" she said to him, in her melodious and pure voice, "do you not know that yours would be a useless sacrifice? The Apaches are only striving to deprive us of our most devoted defender, that they may make an easier conquest of us. They are very treacherous Indians; remain with us."

Eagle-wing hesitated for a moment, and the two chiefs tried in vain to read on his face the feelings that affected him. During several seconds, a leaden silence weighed on this group of men, whose hearts could be heard beating. At length the Coras raised his head, and answered with an effort--

"You insist; I remain here."

Then he turned to the chief, who was waiting anxiously.

"Go," he said to them in a firm voice, "return to the tents of your tribe. Tell your brothers, who were never mine, but who at times have granted me a cordial hospitality, that Moukapec, the great Sachem of the Coras of the lakes, takes back his liberty: he gives up all claim to fire and water in their villages; he wishes to have nothing more in common with them; and if the Apache dogs prowl round him, and seek him, they will find him ever ready to meet them face to face on the warpath.

I have spoken."

The Buffalo chiefs had listened to these words with that calmness which never abandons the Indians; not a feature on their faces had quivered.

When the Coras warrior finished speaking, Black Cat looked at him fixedly, and replied to him with a cold and cutting accent--

"I have heard a crow, the Coras are cowardly squaws, to whom the Apache warriors will give petticoats. Moukapec is a prairie dog, the sunbeams hurt his eyes, he will make his lair with the paleface hares, my nation no longer knows him."

"Much good may it do him," Valentine remarked with a smile, while Eagle-wing shrugged his shoulders at this outburst of insults.

"I retire," Black Cat continued; "ere the owl has twice saluted the sun, the scalps of the palefaces will be fastened to my girdle."

"And," the second chief added, "the young men of my tribe will make war whistles of the white thieves' bones."

"Very good," Valentine replied, with a crafty smile; "try it, we are ready to receive you, and our rifles carry a long distance."

"The palefaces are boasting and yelping dogs," Black Cat said again. "I shall soon return."

"All the better," said Valentine; "but in the meanwhile, as I suppose you have nothing more to say to us, I fancy it is time for you to rejoin your friends, who must be growing impatient at your absence."

Black Cat gave a start of anger at this parting sarcasm; but repressing the pa.s.sion that inflamed him, he folded himself haughtily in his buffalo robe, remounted the raft with his comrade, and they rapidly retired from the island.

CHAPTER XVI.

SUNBEAM.

The situation of the fugitives was most critical, as the Indians had stated; the number of their warriors hourly increased, and on both sides of the island there were large encampments, indicated by numerous fires.

The day pa.s.sed in this way, and there was no attack. No incident even disturbed the tranquillity of the robbers till about the middle of the following night. At this moment the darkness was thick, and not a star glistened in the sky; the moon, obscured by clouds, only displayed her pallid disc at intervals.

One of those intense fogs which frequently prevail at this season on the Rio Gila, had fallen, and ended by confusing all objects; the banks of the river had disappeared from sight, and even the Indian campfires were no longer visible. The hunters, seated in a circle, maintained the deepest silence; each was yielding to the flood of bitter thoughts that rose from his heart. All at once, amid the silence of the night, a confused and indistinct sound was audible, like that of a paddle striking the side of a canoe.

"Hilloh! what's the meaning of this?" Valentine said. "Can the Apaches be dreaming of surprising us?"

"Let us have a look, at any rate," Don Pablo remarked.

The five men rose, and glided silently through the bushes, in the direction of the sound which had aroused them. After proceeding a certain distance, Valentine stopped to listen.

"I am certain I was not mistaken," he said to himself; "it was the sound produced by a paddle falling in a canoe that I heard. Who can have come to visit us? Perhaps it is some Indian deviltry."

And the hunter sounded the darkness around him with his piercing and unerring eye. All at once, he fancied he saw an object moving in the fog. He went on; then after carefully examining this person, who grew every moment more and more distinct, he drew himself up, and leant on his rifle.

"What the deuce do you want here at this hour, Sunbeam, my dear child?"

he asked in a low voice.

The young Indian squaw, for it was really she whom the hunter had addressed, laid a finger on her lip as if recommending prudence.

"Follow me, Koutonepi," she said to him so softly that her voice resembled a sigh.

After going a few yards, the girl stooped, and made the hunter a sign to follow her example.

"Look," she said, pointing to one of those long and light canoes which the Indians hollow out of enormous trees, and which carry ten persons with ease. "Look."

Valentine, in spite of his self-command, had difficulty in suppressing a cry of joy. He held out his hand, saying with considerable emotion:

"My brave girl!"

"Sunbeam remembers," the Indian girl replied with a smile, "that Koutonepi saved her; the heart of the white lady is kind, Sunbeam wishes to save them all."

The first moment of emotion past, the hunter, who was thoroughly acquainted with the cunning and roguery of the redskins, bent a scrutinising gaze on the girl. The Indian's face had an expression of honesty which commanded confidence, and Valentine entered the canoe.

It contained paddles, provisions, and, what caused him more pleasure than all else, six large buffalo horns, full of gunpowder, and two bags of bullets.

"Good!" he said, "my daughter is grateful, Wacondah will protect her."

Sunbeam's face expanded at these words.