Kitabı oku: «The Prairie Flower: A Tale of the Indian Border», sayfa 19
"If you permit it."
"What, my good creature, permit it? Why, the house, all it contains, and the owner in the bargain, all are yours, and you know it."
Margaret smiled sadly.
"Thanks!" she said, offering him her hand, which Black pressed gladly.
"Come," he said, "as we have nothing more to do here, let us be off."
They started in the direction of the house; but the return was silent; each, absorbed in thought, rode on without thinking of addressing a word to the other. They were but a short distance from the house, when they suddenly saw some twenty horsemen debouch from a wood on the right, dressed, as far as could be distinguished, as wood rangers.
"What is this?" Black said, with astonishment, as he pulled his horse up.
"Eh!" the She-wolf said, not replying to the squatter. "The Frenchman has been diligent."
"What do you mean?"
"I will explain all that presently; for the present you need only offer your hospitality to these good people."
"Hum!" Black said, doubtingly. "I shall be glad to do it, but must know who they are, and what they want of me."
"They are Americans; like yourself. I asked the commandant of the fort where they are stationed to send them here."
"What fort and what garrison are you talking of, my good woman? On my soul! I do not know what you mean."
"What! have you not learned to know your neighbours since you have been here?"
"What! have I neighbours?" he said, in an angry tone.
"About ten miles off is Fort Mackenzie, commanded by a brave officer, Major Melville."
At this explanation the squatter's face was unwrinkled; it was not a rival, but a defender he had as neighbour, hence all was for the best.
"Oh, I will go and pay him my respects," he said; "the acquaintance of a fort commandant is not to be neglected in the desert."
Major Melville sent off at once the detachment asked by his sister; but reflecting that soldiers could not execute so well as hunters the meditated coup de main, he chose twenty hardened and resolute trappers and engagés under the command of an officer who had been a long time in the Fur Company's service, and was versed in all the tricks of the crafty enemies he would have to fight.
At the foot of the hill the two parties combined. Black, though still ignorant for what purpose the detachment had come, received most affably the reinforcement sent to him. Ivon was radiant; the worthy Breton, now that he could dispose of such a number of good rifles, believed in the certainty of saving his master; all his suspicions had disappeared, and he burst forth into apologies and thanks to the She-wolf and her two Indian friends. So soon as all were comfortably lodged in the building, Black returned to his guests, and, after offering them refreshments, said —
"Now, I am waiting for your explanation."
As we shall soon see the development of the plans formed at this meeting, it is useless to describe them.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE CAMP OF THE BLACKFEET
Two days have elapsed since the events of our last chapter. It is evening in the Kenhas' village. The tumult is great; all are preparing for an expedition. The night is clear and starlit; great fires, kindled before each cabin, spread around immense reddish gleams, which light up the whole village. There is something strange and striking in the scene presented by the village, crowded with a motley population. The Count de Beaulieu and Bright-eye, apparently free, are conversing in a low tone, sitting on the bare ground, and leaning against the wall of a cabin.
The time fixed by the Count for his parole has long passed, still the Indian Chiefs have satisfied themselves with taking away his weapons and the hunter's, and pay no more attention to them.
On the large village square two immense fires have been kindled. Round the first, placed in front of the Council Lodge, are seated White Buffalo, Natah Otann, Red Wolf, and three or four other chiefs of the tribe; round the second some twenty warriors are silently smoking the calumet. Such was the appearance offered by the Kenhas' village at about nine in the evening of the day we return to it.
"Why allow the Palefaces thus to wander about the village?" Red Wolf asked.
Natah Otann smiled.
"Have the white men the eyes of the eagle and the feet of the gazelle, to find again their trail lost in the desert?"
"My father is right, if he speaks of Glass-eye," Red Wolf urged; "but Bright-eye has a Redskin heart."
"Yes; if he was alone he would try to escape, but he will not abandon his friend."
"The latter can follow him."
"Glass-eye has a brave heart, but his feet are weak; he cannot walk in the desert."
Red Wolf looked down, with an air of conviction, and made no reply.
"The hour has arrived to set out; the allied nations are proceeding to the rendezvous," White Buffalo said, in a sombre voice. "It is nine o'clock; the owl has twice given the signal, and the moon is rising."
"Good," Natah Otann said, "we will have the horses smoked, so as to set out immediately after."
Red Wolf gave a shrill whistle. At this signal some twenty horsemen galloped into the square, and went up to the second fire, round which an equal number of warriors, naked to the waist, were crouching and smoking silently. These men were warriors of the tribe who were dismounted, either by accident or in action; the horsemen, at this moment prancing round them, were their friends, and came up to make each a present of a horse prior to the departure of the expedition. While cantering round, the horsemen drew gradually nearer to the smokers, who did not appear to notice them. Each horseman chose out the man to whom he intended to give a horse, and a shower of lashes fell on the naked shoulders of these stoical warriors. At each blow they struck, the warrior shouted, each calling his friend by name.
"So and so, you are a beggar and wretched man. You desire my horse, I give it to you; but you will bear on your shoulders the bloody marks of my whip."
This performance lasted about a quarter of an hour, during which the sufferers, although the blood ran down their backs, did not utter a cry or a groan, but remained calm and motionless, as if they had been metamorphosed into bronze statues. At length the Red Wolf gave a second whistle, and the horsemen disappeared as rapidly as they came. The patients then rose as if nothing had happened to them, and went with radiant forehead and firm step, each to take possession of a magnificent steed, held by the ex-scourgers, now become their friends once more. This is what the Blackfeet call smoking horses.
When the tumult occasioned by this semi-serious episode was appeased, an hachesto, or public crier, mounted the roof of the council lodge. All the population of the village was drawn up silently on the square.
"The hour has struck! The hour has struck! The hour has struck!" the hachesto cried. "Warriors, to your lances and guns! The horses are neighing with impatience! Your chiefs are awaiting you, and your enemies sleep. To arms! To arms! To arms!"
"To arms!" all the warriors shouted simultaneously.
Natah Otann, followed by his warriors, mounted like himself on impetuous steeds, then appeared in the square, and uttered, in a terrible voice, the war yell of the Blackfeet. At this cry every man rushed on his weapons, mounted, and ranged under the respective chiefs, who, within scarce ten minutes, found themselves at the head of five hundred warriors, perfectly armed and equipped.
Natah Otann cast a triumphant glance around him; his eye fell immediately on the two prisoners, who had remained quietly seated, talking together, and apparently indifferent to all that happened. At the sight of them the Chiefs thick eyebrows were contracted, he leant over to the White Buffalo, who rode by his side, and muttered a few words in his ear. The old man gave a sign of assent, and walked towards the prisoners, while Natah Otann, taking the head of the war party, gave the signal for departure, and went off, only leaving ten warriors on the square to aid White Buffalo, if required.
"Gentlemen," the latter said, sharply, but courteously; "be good enough to mount and follow me, if you please."
"Is this an order you give us, sir?" the Count asked, haughtily.
"What does that, question mean?"
"Because I am not in the habit of obeying anybody."
"Sir," the Chief answered, "any resistance would be insensate, and rather injurious than useful to your interests: so to horse without further delay."
"The Chief is right," Bright-eye said, with a significant look at the Count; "why any obstinacy? we cannot be the stronger."
"But – " the young man remarked.
"Here is your horse," the hunter interrupted him, sharply.
"We obey the Chief," he added, aloud; then he added in a whisper, —
"Are you mad, Mr. Edward? Who knows the chances luck has in store for us during the accursed expedition?"
"Still – "
"Mount! Mount!"
At length the young man, partly convinced, obeyed the hunter. When the prisoners had mounted, the warriors surrounded them, and led them off at a gallop, till they caught up the column, of which they took the lead.
Despite the Count's resistance, Natah Otann and White Buffalo had not given up their plan of making him pass for Motecuhzoma, and placing him at the head of the Allied Nations. Still this plan had been modified, in this sense, that, as the young Count refused his help, they would force him to give it in spite of himself. The following is the way in which they intended to act. They had succeeded in persuading the Indians who accompanied them during the ostrich hunt, that the struggle sustained by the Count, and which had struck them with stupor, owing to the energetic resistance the two men had so long offered to fifty warriors, was a ruse invented by them to display their strength and power in the sight of all.
The Redskins, owing to their ignorance, are stupidly credulous. Natah Otann's clumsy falsehood, which any man but slightly civilized would have regarded with contempt, obtained the greatest success with these brutalized beings, and enhanced, in their eyes, the personal value of the men whom they saw continuing to live on good terms with their Chiefs, and remaining apparently free in the village.
Matters were too far advanced, the day chosen for the outbreak of the plot was too near, for the Chiefs to give counterorders to their allies, and concoct some other scheme to replace the prophet they had announced to the Missouri nations. If, on arriving at the rendezvous, the man they had expected was not presented to them, it was evident they would retire with their contingents, and that all would be broken off with no hope of recombination; but a catastrophe must be guarded against at all risks.
The resolution formed by the two Chiefs, desperate as it was, they were compelled to adopt through the suspicious nature of the circumstances, and they trusted to chance to make it succeed. The Count and his companion would march, so long as the expedition lasted, at the head of the attacking columns, without weapons it is true, but apparently free, while guarded by ten picked warriors, who would never leave them, and kill them on the slightest suspicious gesture. The plan was absurd, and, with other men than Indians, the impossibility would have been recognized in less than an hour; but, through its very impracticability, it offered chances of success, and this was chiefly owing to the belief the Indians held that the Count had no friends to attempt his rescue.
Ivon's flight had troubled Natah Otann for a few moments: but the discovery made in the forest, where he had sought shelter, of the body of a man clothed in the servant's dress, and half devoured by wild beasts, restored him all his serenity, by proving to him that he had nought to fear from the poor fellow's devotion.
Three hours prior to the departure of the column, the Chief had, on White Buffalo's revelations, had five spies secretly strangled. Red Wolf, on whom Natah Otann and White Buffalo placed unbounded confidence, and whose courage could not be doubted, was appointed head of the detachment to watch over the prisoners. Hence matters were in the best possible state. The two Chiefs marched about fifty paces ahead of their warriors, conversing in a low voice, and definitely arranging their final plans. White Buffalo described in a few words the position and their hopes.
"Our prospect is desperate," he said, "chance may make it fail or succeed: all depends upon the first attack. If, as I believe, we surprise the American garrison, and seize Fort Mackenzie, we shall have no further need of this Count, whose disappearance we can easily account for, by saying that he has reascended to heaven, because we are victors. However, we shall see; all will be decided in a few hours. Till then, courage and prudence."
Natah Otann made no reply; but cast a glance at Prairie-Flower, who cantered along in apparent carelessness on the flank of the column, which she had asked leave to accompany, and the Chief had gladly granted it. The warriors advanced in a long line, silently following one of those winding paths formed on the desert for centuries by the feet of wild beasts. The night was transparent and calm; the sky, embroidered with millions of stars, shed down on the landscape floods of melancholy light, harmonizing with the grand and primitive nature of the desert. About four in the morning, Natah Otann halted on the top of a wooded dell, in the centre of an immense clearing, where the entire detachment disappeared, without leaving a trace.
Fort Mackenzie rose gloomy and majestic at about a gunshot off. The Indians had effected their march with such prudence, that the American garrison had given no sign of alarm. Natah Otann had a tent put up, into which he courteously begged his prisoners to enter, and they obeyed.
"Why so much politeness?" the Count said.
"Are you not my guests?" the Chief replied, with an ironical smile, and then withdrew.
The Count and his comrade, when left alone, lay down on a pile of furs intended for their bed.
"What is to be done?" the Count muttered, greatly discouraged.
"Sleep," the hunter said, carelessly. "Unless I am mistaken, we shall soon have some news."
"Heaven grant it!"
"Amen," Bright-eye continued, with a laugh. "Bah! we shall not die this time either."
"I hope so," the Count repeated, to say something.
"And I am sure of it. It would be curious, on my word," the hunter said, with a laugh, "were I, who have traversed the desert so long, to be killed by these red brutes."
The young man could not refrain from admiring, in his heart, the cool certainty with which the Canadian uttered so monstrous an opinion; but at this moment the prisoners heard a gentle sound near them.
"Silence!" Bright-eye commanded.
They listened attentively. A harmonious voice then sang to a melody, full of gentleness and melancholy, the exquisite Blackfoot song beginning with the verses: —
"I confide to you my heart, in the name of the Master of Life; I am unhappy, and no one takes pity on me, yet the Master of Life is great in my sight."
"Oh!" the Count muttered joyously, "I recognise that voice, my friend."
"And I too, by Jupiter! It is Prairie-Flower's."
"What does she say?"
"It is a warning she gives us."
"Do you believe so?"
"Prairie-Flower loves you, Mr. Edward."
"Poor child! and I love her too; but alas! – "
"Bah! after the storm comes fine weather."
"If I could but see her."
"For what good? She will contrive to make herself visible when it is necessary. Come, wild or tame, all women are alike. But, look out, here is somebody."
They threw themselves on the furs, and pretended to be asleep. A man had quietly lifted the curtain of the tent. By the moon's ray, that passed through the opening, the prisoners recognized Red Wolf. The Indian looked outside for a moment; then, probably reassured by the calmness that prevailed around, he let the curtain of the tent fall, and took a few paces in the interior.
"The jaguar is strong and courageous," he said, in a loud voice, as if talking to himself; "the fox is cunning; but the man whose heart is big is stronger than the jaguar, and more cunning than the fox, when he has in his hand weapons to defend himself. Who says that Glass-eye and Bright-eye will allow their throats to be cut like tamed gazelles?"
"And not looking at the prisoners, the Chief laid at their feet two guns, from which hung powder flasks, bullet bags, and long knives; then he left the tent again, as calmly as if he had done the simplest matter in the world. The prisoners looked at each other in amazement.
"What do you think of that?" Bright-eye muttered in stupefaction.
"It is a trap," the Count answered.
"Hum! trap or no, the weapons are there, and I shall take them."
The hunter seized the guns and the knives, which he immediately hid under the furs. The arms were hardly in security, ere the curtain of the tent was again raised, and Natah Otann walked in. He bore in his hand a branch of ocote, or candlewood, which lit up his thoughtful face, and gave it a sinister expression. The Chief dug up the ground with his knife, planted his torch in the ground, and walked toward the prisoners, who looked on without giving any sign.
"Gentlemen," the Chief then said, "I have come to ask for a moment's interview with you."
"Speak, sir; we are your prisoners, and as such compelled to hear you, if not to listen to you," the Count said, drily, as he sat up on the furs, while Bright-eye rose carelessly, and lit his pipe at the candlewood torch.
"Since you have been my prisoners, gentlemen," the Chief continued, "you have not had, to my knowledge, any reason to complain of the way in which I have treated you."
"That depends. In the first place, I do not admit that I am legally your prisoner."
"Oh, sir," the Chief said, with a smile of mockery, "do you speak of legality to a poor Indian? You know well that we are ignorant of that word."
"That is true; go on."
"I have come to see you – "
"Why?" the Count interrupted him, impatiently. "Explain!"
"I have a bargain to propose to you."
"Well, I will frankly confess that your way of bargaining does not impress me with great confidence."
The Indian made a move.
"No matter," the Count continued, "let us hear it."
"I should not like to be obliged, sir, to tie you again, as you were when you were captured."
"I am extremely obliged to you."
"But; at this moment I absolutely need all my warriors, and I cannot leave anybody to guard you two gentlemen."
"Which means?"
"That I ask your parole not to escape for the next twenty-four hours."
"But that is not a bargain."
"Wait; I am coming to it."
"Good; I am waiting."
"In return, I pledge myself – "
"Ah!" the Count said, contemptuously, "let us see to what you pledge yourself; that must be curious."
"I pledge myself," the Chief continued, still cold and calm, "to give you your liberty in twenty-four hours."
"And my comrade?"
The Indian bowed his head in affirmation; the Count burst into a loud laugh.
"And suppose we did not accept?" he asked.
"But you will do so," he said, with an ironical smile.
"Possibly; but suppose the contrary for a moment."
"At daybreak you will both be attached to the stake, and tortured until sunset."
"Oh, oh! Is that your final word?"
"The last; in half an hour I will come for your answer."
And he turned to go out. The Count bounded like a jaguar, and stood before the Chief, his gun in one hand, his knife in the other.
"A moment," he shouted.
"Wah!" the Chief said, crossing his hands on his wide chest, and gazing at them sarcastically. "You had taken your precautions, it appears."
"By Jove!" Bright-eye said, with a grin; "I rather fancy it is our turn to make conditions."
"Perhaps so," Natah Otann replied, coolly; "but I have no time to lose in vain words; let me pass, gentlemen."
Bright-eye threw himself quickly before the door.
"Come, Chief," he said, "things cannot end like that; we are not old women to be frightened. Before we are fastened to the stake, we will kill you."
The Chief shrugged his shoulders disdainfully,
"You are mad; let me pass, old hunter, and do not oblige me to use force."
"No, no, Chief," Bright-eye added, with an ironical laugh; "we shall not part like that; all the worse for you; you should not have put your head in the wolf's throat."
Natah Otann made an impatient gesture.
"You wish it; well, then, see!"
Raising to his lips his war-whistle, made of a human thigh bone, he produced a shrill sound. All at once, before the two Europeans could comprehend what was happening, the sides of the tent were cut open, and the Blackfeet bounded into the interior. The Count and Bright-eye were seized and disarmed. The Sachem, with his arms still crossed on his chest, looked like a stoic, while the Kenhas, with their eyes fixed on the Chief, and uplifted tomahawks, seemed to await from him a final signal.
There was a moment of intense anxiety; though the two white men were so brave, the attack had been so rapid and unexpected, that they could not refrain from an inward shudder. For a few seconds the Chief enjoyed his triumph; then, raising his hand, with a gesture of supreme authority, he said, —
"Enough! Restore their weapons to these warriors. Are they not the guests of Natah Otann?"
The Blackfeet retired as suddenly as they had appeared.
"Well," the Chief asked, with slight irony, "do you understand me at last? Do you still fancy me in your power?"
"Very good, sir," the Count replied, coldly, still suffering from the struggle he had gone through; "I am forced to recognize the advantage that chance gives you over me; any resistance would be useless. I consent to submit for the present to your will; but only on two conditions."
"They are accepted beforehand, sir," Natah Otann said, with a bow.
"Do not be too certain, sir; for you do not yet know what I mean to ask from you."
"I am awaiting your explanation."
"As it must be so, I will march at the head of your tribes; but alone, unarmed, and on condition, that under no pretext you impose on me any other character in the gloomy tragedy you are preparing to act."
The Chief frowned.
"And supposing that I refuse?" he said, in a hoarse voice.
"If you refuse," the young man answered, with his calmest air, "I will employ sure means to compel you to assent."
"They are?"
"I will blow out my brains, sir, in the sight of all your warriors."
The Chief cast a viper's glance at him.
"Very good," he said, presently. "I accept; now let us have the other condition."
"It is simply this: conqueror or conquered; and I hope sincerely that the latter may be the case – "
"Thank you," the Chief interrupted him, with an ironical bow.
"After the battle, whatever its issue may be," the Count continued, "you will fight me honourably with equal weapons."
"Why, Sir Count, you are proposing to me what white men call a duel!"
"Yes. Does that displease you?"
"Me? certainly not, and I accept gladly; the more so, as we Blood Indians are accustomed to have such fights to settle our own personal quarrels."
"Then you accept my conditions?"
"I do so."
"But who will guarantee your good faith?" the young man asked.
"I, Sir," a powerful voice said.
The three men turned. White Buffalo was standing motionless in the doorway of the tent. At the unexpected appearance of this strange man, whose features revealed at the moment an imposing majesty, the young Count felt subdued, and bowed respectfully.
"Gentlemen," Natah Otann continued, "you are free within the limits of the camp."
"Thanks," Bright-eye said coarsely; "but I have made no promise."
"You!" the Chief said carelessly; "go or stay, I care very little."
And after bowing ceremoniously to the Count, the two Chiefs withdrew.
