The Trapper's Daughter Part 57

"Trouble yourself about your own affairs, senor Padre," Nathan said, brutally, "and let me act as I think proper, unless you wish me to send you to take my place with the b.u.t.t end of my rifle."

The monk bit his lips.

"Brute beast!" he muttered.

"Come, peace, in the devil's name!" Red Cedar said; "let us think about not being caught."

"Yes," Sutter supported him, "when you are in safety, you can have an explanation with knives, like true caballeros. But, at this moment, we have other things to do than quarrel like old women."

The two men exchanged a glance full of hatred, but remained silent. The little party, guided by Red Cedar, gradually retired, pursued by the yells of the Comanches, who constantly drew nearer.

"Can they have discovered our track?" Red Cedar said, shaking his head sadly.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT.

We will now return to Valentine and his friends, whom we left preparing to pursue Red Cedar once more.

Valentine had began to take a real interest in this protracted manhunt; it was the first time since he had been in the desert that he had to deal with a foeman so worthy of his steel as was Red Cedar.

Like him, the squatter possessed a thorough knowledge of life in the Far West--all the sounds of the prairie were known to him, all tracks familiar; like him, he had made Indian trickery and cunning his special study; in a word, Valentine had found his equal, if not his master. His powerfully excited self-love urged him to bring this game of chess to a conclusion; hence he was resolved to press matters so vigorously that, in spite of his cleverness, Red Cedar must soon fall into his hands.

After leaving, as we have seen, the upper regions of the Sierra, the hunters advanced in the shape of a fan, in order to find some sign which would enable them to find the long lost trail, for, according to the axiom well known to the wood rangers, any rastreador, who holds one end of a trail, must infallibly reach the other within a given time.

Unfortunately, no trace or sign was visible; Red Cedar had disappeared, and it was impossible to find the slightest trace of the way he had gone.

Still, Valentine did not give in; he studied the ground, examined every blade of gra.s.s, and cross-questioned the shrubs with a patience nothing could weary. His friends, less accustomed than himself to the frequent disappointments in a hunter's life, in vain gave him despairing glances; he walked on, with his head bent down, neither seeing their signals nor hearing their remarks.

At length, about midday, after going nearly four leagues in this fashion--a most wearying task--the hunters found themselves on a perfectly naked rock. At this spot it would have been madness to look for footprints, as the granite would not take them. Don Miguel and his son fell to the ground, more through despondency than fatigue.

Curumilla began collecting the scattered leaves to light the breakfast fire, while Valentine, leaning on his rifle, with his forehead furrowed by deep wrinkles, looked scrutinisingly round. At the spot where the hunters had established their temporary bivouac, no vegetation grew on the barren rocks; while an immense larch tree over-shadowed it with its well-covered branches.

The hunter incessantly turned his intelligent eye from earth to sky, as if he had a foreboding that at this spot he must find the trail he had so long been seeking. All at once he uttered a sonorous "hum!" At this sound, a signal agreed on between the Indian and him, Curumilla left off collecting the leaves, raised his head, and looked at him. Valentine walked towards him with a hasty step; the two Mexicans eagerly rose and joined him.

"Have you discovered anything?" Don Miguel asked, curiously.

"No," Valentine replied, "but in all probability I soon shall."

"Here?"

"Yes, at this very spot," he said, with a knowing smile; "believe me, you shall soon see."

While saying this, the hunter stooped, picked up a handful of leaves, and began examining them attentively, one by one.

"What can those leaves teach you?" Don Miguel asked with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Everything," Valentine firmly replied, as he continued his examination.

Curumilla was surveying the ground, and questioning the rock.

"Wah!" he said.

All stopped; the chief pointed to a line about half an inch, of the thickness of a hair, recently made on the rock.

"They have pa.s.sed this way," Valentine went on, "that is as certain to me as that two and two make four; everything proves it to me; the steps we discovered going away from the spot where we now are--are a sure proof."

"How so?" Don Miguel asked in amazement.

"Nothing is more simple; the traces that deceived you could not humbug an old wood ranger like myself; they pressed too heavily on the heel, and were not regular, proves them false."

"Why false?"

"Of course. This is what Red Cedar did to hide the direction he took; he walked for nearly two leagues backwards."

"You think so?"

"I am sure of it. Red Cedar, though aged, is still possessed of all the vigour of youth; his steps are firm and perfectly regular; like all men accustomed to forest life, he walks cautiously, that is to say, first putting down the point of his foot, like every man who is not certain that he may not have to go back. In the footsteps we saw, as I told you, the heel was put down first, and is much deeper buried than the rest of the foot; that is quite impossible, unless a person has walked backwards, especially for some time."

"That is true," Don Miguel answered; "what you say could not be more logical."

Valentine smiled.

"We have not got to the end yet," he said; "let me go on."

"But," Don Pablo remarked, "supposing that Red Cedar did come here, which I now believe as fully as you do, how is it that we do not find his traces on the other side of the rock? However carefully he may have hidden them, we should discover them, if they existed."

"Of course; but they are not here, and it is useless to lose time in looking for them. Red Cedar has come here, as this mark proves; but you will ask me why he did so? For a reason very easy to comprehend; on this granite soil, footsteps are effaced; the squatter wished to throw us out by bringing us to a spot where we must completely lose his direction, if we succeeded in finding his track. He succeeded up to a certain point; but he wished to be too clever, and went beyond his object; before ten minutes, I will show you the trail as clear as if we had been present when he went off."

"I confess, my friend, that all you say greatly astonishes me," Don Miguel replied. "I never could understand this species of sublime instinct which helps you to find your way in the desert, although you have already given me the most astonishing proofs; still, I confess that what is taking place at this moment surpa.s.ses everything I have hitherto seen you do."

"Good gracious!" Valentine answered; "you pay me compliments I am far from deserving; all this is an affair of reasoning, and especially of habit. Thus, it is as plain to you as it is to me, that Red Cedar came here?"

"Yes."

"Very good; as he came, he must have gone away again," the hunter said with a laugh; "for the reason that he is no longer here, or we should have him."

"That is certain."

"Good; now look how he can have gone."

"That is exactly what I do not see."

"Because you are blind, or because you will not take the trouble."

"Oh, my friend, I swear--"