Читать книгу The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West - Gustave Aimard - Страница 5

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The dwellers on the Mexican frontiers are accustomed to fight continually with wild animals, both men and brutes, that continually attack them. Hence the stranger was but slightly affected by the unexpected visit of the two jaguars. Although his position between his two ferocious enemies was somewhat precarious, and he did not at all conceal from himself the danger he ran alone against two, he did not the less resolve to confront them bravely. Not taking his eye off the jaguar he had first seen, he went back a few steps obliquely, so as to have his foes nearly opposite him, instead of standing between them. This manoeuvre, which demanded some little time, succeeded beyond his hopes. The jaguars watched him, licking their lips, and passing their paws behind their ears with those graceful movements peculiar to the feline race. The two wild beasts, certain of their prey, seemed to be playing with it and not over eager to pounce on it.

While keeping his eye on the watch, the Mexican did not yield to any treacherous feeling of security: he knew that the struggle he was about to undertake was a supreme one, and he took his precautions. Jaguars never attack a man unless forced by necessity; and the latter tried, before all, to seize the horse. The noble animal, securely fastened by its master, exhausted itself in efforts to break the bonds that held it, and escape. It trembled with terror on scenting its ferocious enemies.

The stranger, when his precautions were completely taken, shouldered his rifle for the second time. At this moment the jaguars raised their heads, while laying back their ears and snuffing anxiously. An almost imperceptible sound was audible in the bushes.

"Who goes there?" the Mexican asked in a loud voice.

"A friend, Don Miguel Zarate," was the reply.

"Ah! It is Don Valentine," the Mexican continued. "You have arrived just in time to see some fine sport."

"Ah, ah!" the man who had already spoken went on. "Can I help you?"

"It is useless; but make haste if you want to see."

The branches were sharply drawn aside, and two men appeared in the clearing. At the sight of the jaguars they stopped, not through alarm, for they quietly placed the butts of their rifles on the ground, but in order to give the hunter every facility to emerge victoriously from his rash combat.

The jaguars seemed to comprehend that the moment for action had arrived. As if by one accord, they drew themselves up and bounded on their enemy. The first, struck in its leap by a bullet which passed through its right eye, rolled on the ground, where it remained motionless. The second was received on the point of the hunter's machete, who after discharging his rifle, had fallen on his knee, with his left arm folded in his blanket in front, and the machete in the other hand. The man and the tiger writhed together in a deadly embrace, and after a few seconds only one of the adversaries rose: it was the man. The tiger was dead: the hunter's machete, guided by a firm hand, had passed right through its heart.

During this rapid fight the newcomers had not made a sign, but remained stoical spectators of all that was taking place. The Mexican rose, thrust his machete in the grass to clean the blade, and turning coldly to the strangers, said:

"What do you say to that?"

"Splendidly played," the first answered; "it is one of the best double strokes I ever saw in my life."

The two men threw their rifles on their shoulders, and walked up to the Mexican, who reloaded his piece with as much coolness and tranquillity as if he had not just escaped from a terrible danger by a miracle of skill.

The sun was sinking on the horizon, the shadow of the trees assumed a prodigious length, and the luminary appeared like a ball of fire amid the limpid azure of the heavens. The night would soon arrive, and the desert was awaking. On all sides could be heard, in the gloomy and mysterious depths of the virgin forest, the hoarse howling of the coyotes and the other wild beasts, mingled with the song of the birds perched on all the branches. The desert, silent and gloomy during the oppressive heat of the day, emerged from its unhealthy torpor on the approach of dark, and was preparing to resume its nocturnal sports.

The three men in the clearing collected dried branches, made a pile of them and set fire to it. They doubtlessly intended to camp for a portion of the night at this spot. So soon as the flames rose joyously, skyward in long spirals, the two strangers produced from their game bags maize tortillas, jerked meat, and a gourd of pulque. These various comestibles were complacently spread out on the grass, and the three men began a hunter's meal. When the gourd had gone the round several times, and the tortillas had disappeared, the newcomers lit their Indian pipes, and the Mexican rolled a papelito.

Although this meal had been short, it lasted, however, long enough for night to have completely set in ere it was ended. Perfect darkness brooded over the clearing, the ruddy reflections of the fire played on the energetic faces of the three men, and gave them a fantastic appearance.

"And now," the Mexican said, after lighting his cigarette, "I will, with your permission, explain to you why I was so anxious to see you."

"One moment," one of the hunters answered. "You know that in the deserts the leaves have often eyes, and the trees ears. If I am not mistaken in your hints, you invited us here that our interview might be secret."

"In truth, I have the greatest interest in nothing of what is said here being overheard, or even suspected."

"Very good. Curumilla, to work."

The second hunter rose, seized his rifle and disappeared noiselessly in the gloom. His absence was rather long; but as long as it lasted, the two men left at the fire did not exchange a syllable. In about half an hour the hunter returned, however, and seated himself by his comrades' side.

"Well?" the one who had sent him off asked him.

"My brother can speak," he replied laconically; "the desert is quiet."

On this assurance the three men banished all anxiety. Still prudence did not abandon them: they took up their pipes, and turned their backs to the fire, so that they might watch the neighbourhood while conversing.

"We are ready to listen to you," the first hunter said.

"Listen to me with the greatest attention," the Mexican began; "what you are about to hear is of the utmost importance."

The two men bowed silently, and the Mexican prepared to speak again.

Before going further we must introduce to the reader the two men we have just brought on the stage, and go back a few paces in order to make it perfectly understood why Don Miguel Zarate, in lieu of receiving them at his own house, had given them the meeting in the heart of the virgin forest.

The two hunters seemed at the first glance to be Indians; but on examining them more attentively, you could recognise that one of them belonged to those white trappers whose boldness has become proverbial in Mexico. Their appearance and equipment offered a singular medley of savage and civilised life. Their hair was of a remarkable length; for in those countries, where a man is frequently only fought for the glory of lifting his scalp, it is considered the thing to wear it long and easy to seize.

The hunters had their hair neatly plaited, and intertwined with beaver skins and bright coloured ribbons. The rest of their garb harmonised with this specimen of their taste. A hunting shirt of bright red calico fell down to their knees; gaiters decorated with woolen ribbons and bells surrounded their legs; and their feet were shod with moccasins embroidered with beads which the squaws know so well how to make. A striped blanket, fastened round the hips by a belt of tanned deer hide, completed their clothing, but was not so closely drawn that at their every movement the butt of the pistols and the hilt of the machetes might be seen glistening. As for their rifles, useless at this moment, and carelessly thrown on the ground by their side, if they had been stripped of the plume-worked elk skin that covered them, it would have been possible to see, with what care their owners had decorated them with copper nails painted of various colours; for all about these two men bore the imprint of Indian habits.

The first of the two hunters was a man of thirty-eight at the most, tall and well-built; his muscular limbs denoted great bodily strength, allied to unequalled lightness. Although he affected all the manners of the redskins, it was an easy matter to perceive that he not only belonged to the unmixed white race, but also to the Norman or Gaulish type. He was fair; his large, blue and pensive eyes, adorned with long lashes, had an expression of undefinable sadness: his nose was slightly aquiline; his mouth large, and filled with teeth of dazzling whiteness; a thick chestnut beard covered the lower part of his face, which revealed gentleness, kindness, and courage without boasting, though the whole were combined with a will of iron.

His companion evidently belonged to the Indian race, all the characteristic signs of which he displayed; but, strange to say, he was not coppery like the American aborigines of Texas and North America; and his skin was brown and slightly of an olive hue. He had a lofty brow, a bent nose, small but piercing eyes, a large mouth and square chin; in short, he presented the complete type of the American race, which inhabits a limited territory in the South of Chili. This hunter had round his brow a purple-coloured fillet, in which was thrust over the right ear a plume of the Andes Eagle, a sign which serves to distinguish the chiefs of the Aucas.

These two men, whom the reader has doubtless already recognised, as they played an important part in our previously published works[1], were Valentine Guillois, an ex-noncommissioned officer in the Spahis, and Curumilla, his friend—Ulmen of the Great Hare tribe.

We will introduce a parenthesis to explain their present position, and which is indispensable for a right understanding of what follows. The moment is capitally selected, by the way, for opening this parenthesis; for the three hunters are gaily talking round their fire, the night is gloomy, the forest quiet, and it does not appear likely that anything will arise to disturb them.

[1] "The Chief of the Aucas," "The Tiger Slayer," "The Gold Finders," "The Indian Chief."