Wood Rangers Part 66

Gayferos then related to his auditors the unexpected a.s.sistance he had obtained from the three hunters who had taken refuge upon the little island, and was describing the moment in which Bois-Rose carried him off in the presence of the Indians, when this heroic action drew from Don Augustin's lips a cry of admiration.

"But there were then a score on this little island?" interrupted he.

"Reckoning the giant who carried me in his arms there were but three,"

continued the narrator.

"_Santa Virgen_! they were trusty men then--but continue."

The adventurer resumed:

"The companion of him who had carried me in his arms was a man of about the same age--that is, near five-and-forty. There was, besides, a young man, of a pale but proud countenance, a sparkling eye, and a sweet smile; by my faith, a handsome young man, Senorita; such a one as a father might with pride own as a son--such as a lady might be proud and happy to see at her feet. During a short interval of calm, which succeeded the horrible agonies I had suffered, I found time to question the preservers of my life concerning their names and occupation; but I could learn nothing from them except that they were hunters, and travelled for their own pleasure. That was not very probable, still I made no observation."

Dona Rosarita could not quite suppress a sigh: perhaps she expected to be reminded of a familiar name.

Gayferos continued the recital of various facts with which the reader is already acquainted.

"Alas, Senorita," he continued, "the poor young man was himself captured by the Indians, and his punishment was to avenge the death of their companions."

At this part of the narrative, Dona Rosarita's cheek became deadly pale.

"Well, and the young man," interrupted the haciendado, who was almost as much moved as the daughter, on hearing these sad events, "what became of him?"

Rosarita, who had remained silent as the narrator proceeded, returned by a look of tender acknowledgment, the solicitude her father testified for the young man, for whom in spite of herself, she felt so deep an interest.

"Three days and three nights were consumed in fearful anguish, relieved only by a feeble ray of hope. At length on the morning of the fourth day, we were able unawares to fall upon our sanguinary foes; and after a desperate struggle, the warlike giant succeeded in reconquering the youth, who, safe and sound, he again pressed to his heart, calling him his beloved child."

"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed the haciendado, with a sigh of relief.

Rosarita remained silent, but her colour suddenly returning, testified to the pleasure she experienced: while a joyous smile lit up her countenance on hearing the last words of the narrator.

"Continue!" said the haciendado; "but, in your recital, which is deeply interesting to a man who was himself during six months held captive by the Indians, I seek in vain for any details relative to poor Don Estevan's death."

"I am ignorant of them," continued Gayferos, "and I can only repeat the words spoken by the youngest of the three hunters, when I questioned him upon the subject."

"He is dead," said the young man to me, "you yourself are the last survivor of a numerous expedition; when you shall have returned to your own country--for," added he, with a sigh, "you have perhaps some one, who in grief numbers the days of your absence--they will question you concerning the fate of your chief, and the men he commanded. You will reply to them, that the men died fighting--as to their chief, that he was condemned by the justice of G.o.d, and that the divine sentence p.r.o.nounced against him, was executed in the desert. Don Estevan Arechiza will never again return to his friends."

"Poor Don Estevan!" exclaimed the haciendado.

"And you could never learn the names of these brave, generous, and devoted men?" asked Dona Rosarita.

"Not at the moment," continued Gayferos; "only it appeared strange to me, that the youngest of the three hunters spoke to me of Don Estevan, Diaz, Oroche, and Baraja, as though he knew them perfectly."

A pang shot through Dona Rosarita's heart, her bosom heaved, her cheeks were dyed with a deep crimson, then became pale again as the flowers of the _datura_, but she still remained silent.

"I draw towards the close of my recital," continued Gayferos. "After having recovered the brave warrior's son from the Apaches, we journeyed towards the plains of Texas. I shall not relate to you all the dangers we encountered during six months of our wandering life, as hunters of the otter and the beaver, nevertheless, it had its charms; but there was one amongst us, who was far from finding this life agreeable. This was our young companion.

"When I saw him for the first time I was struck by the melancholy expression of his countenance, but afterwards, as we journeyed together, I noticed that this melancholy, instead of decreasing, seemed daily to augment. The old hunter, whom I believed to be his father (I know now that he is not), took every opportunity of calling his attention to the magnificence of the vast forest in which we lived, the imposing scenes of the desert, or the charm of the perils we encountered. They were vain efforts, for nothing could banish the grief that consumed him. He seemed only to forget it in the midst of the dangers he eagerly sought.

One might have supposed that life to him was no more than a heavy burden which he desired to get rid of.

"Full of compa.s.sion for him, I often said to the old hunter--'Solitude is only suited to an advanced age, youth delights in activity, and in the presence of its equals. Let us return to our habitations.' But the giant only sighed without replying.

"Soon afterwards the manner of the two hunters, who loved their young companion as a son, became also saddened.

"One night while the young man and I were watching, I recalled a name which six months before he had uttered in his sleep. I then learned the secret of that grief which was slowly consuming him. He loved, and solitude had but increased a pa.s.sion which he vainly sought to stifle."

Gayferos paused an instant to cast a searching glance upon the countenances of his auditors, especially upon that of Dona Rosarita. He appeared to take a secret pleasure in exciting the young girl by the recital of all the circ.u.mstances best calculated to touch the heart of a woman.

As a warrior and a hunter, the haciendado did not attempt to conceal the interest with which the stranger's narrative was inspiring him.

Rosarita, on the contrary, endeavoured, under a mask of studied coldness, to conceal the charm she experienced on listening to this romance of heart and action, whose most stirring pages were so considerately opened to her by the intelligent narrator.

But her heightened colour and the fire in her large dark eyes completely belied her efforts.

"Ah!" cried Don Augustin, "if these three brave men had been under Don Estevan's command, the fate of the expedition might have been far different."

"I am of the same opinion," replied Gayferos, "but G.o.d had ordained it otherwise. Meanwhile," he continued, "I felt a great longing again to see my native land, but grat.i.tude required that I should conceal it.

But the old warrior divined my thoughts, and one day addressed me on this subject.

"Too generous to suffer me alone to brave the dangers of my homeward journey, the giant hunter resolved to accompany me as far as Tubac. His companion did not oppose his resolution, and we set out for the frontier. The young man alone seemed, to follow us reluctantly in this direction.

"I shall not describe our fatigues and the various difficulties we surmounted, in the course of our long and perilous journey. I wish, however, to speak of one of our last encounters with the Indians.

"In order to reach the Presidio we were obliged to cross the chain of the Rocky Mountains. It was towards the approach of night that we found ourselves amongst their gloomy solitudes, and we were obliged to halt.

"This is a spot much frequented by the Indians, and we could not encamp without the greatest precaution.

"Nothing, as it seems to me, can better resemble the abode of condemned souls than these mountains, where we spent the night. At every moment strange sounds, which appeared to proceed from the cavities of the rocks, broke upon our ears. At one time it was a volcano, which rumbled with dull and heavy noise beneath us, or the distant roar of a cataract: sometimes resembling the howling of wolves or plaintive cries; and from time to time dreadful flashes of lightning tore aside the veil of mist which eternally covers these mountains.

"For fear of a surprise we had encamped upon a rock which projected, in the form of a table, above a wide open valley about fifty feet below us.

The two elder hunters were asleep; the youngest alone kept watch. It was his turn, and as usual he had been compelled to insist upon it--for his companions seemed unwilling thus to allow him to share their toils.

"As for myself, sick and suffering, I was stretched upon the ground.

After many vain efforts to obtain a little rest, at length I slept, when a frightful dream awoke me with a start.

"'Did you hear nothing?' I asked of the young man, in a low voice.

'Nothing,' he replied, 'except the rumbling of the subterranean volcanoes in the mountains.' 'Say, rather, that we are here in an accursed spot,' I continued, and then I related my dream to him.

"'It is, perhaps a warning,' he said gravely. 'I remember one night to have had just such a dream, when--'

"The young man paused. He had advanced to the edge of the rock. I crawled after him mechanically. The same object arrested our attention at the same moment.

"One of those spirits of darkness which might have inhabited such a spot, appeared suddenly to have acquired a visible form. It was a kind of phantom, with the head and skin of a wolf, but erect upon its legs like a human being. I made the sign of the cross, and murmured a prayer, but the phantom did not stir.

"'It is the devil,' I whispered.

"'It is an Indian,' replied the young man; 'there are his companions at some distance.'

"In short, our eyes, well practised in making out objects in the dark, could distinguish about twenty Indians, stretched upon the ground, and who, in truth, had no idea of our vicinity.