Читать книгу Gunfights & Revolutions (Texas War Trilogy) - Gustave Aimard - Страница 27

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For more than half an hour the silence of death hovered over the clearing, which offered a most sad and lugubrious aspect through the fight we described in the preceding chapter.

At length John Davis, who in reality had received no serious wound, for his fall was merely occasioned by the shock of the Scalper's powerful horse, opened his eyes and looked around him in amazement; the fall had been sufficiently violent to cause him serious bruises, and throw him into a deep fainting fit; hence, on regaining consciousness, the American, still stunned, did not remember a single thing that had happened, and asked himself very seriously what he had been doing to find himself in this singular situation.

Still, his ideas grew gradually clearer, his memory returned, and he remembered the strange and disproportioned fight of one man against twenty, in which the former remained the victor, after killing and dispersing his assailants.

"Hum!" he muttered to himself, "Whether he be man or demon, that individual is a sturdy fellow."

He got up with some difficulty, carefully feeling his paining limbs; and when he was quite assured he had nothing broken, he continued with evident satisfaction—

"Thank Heaven! I got off more cheaply than I had a right to suppose, after the way in which I was upset." Then he added, as he gave a glance of pity to his comrade, who lay dead near him; "That poor Jim was not so lucky as I, and his fun is over. What a tremendous machete stroke he received! Nonsense!" he then said with the egotistic philosophy of the desert; "We are all mortal, each has his turn; to-day it's he, to-morrow I, so goes the world."

Leaning on his rifle, for he still experienced some difficulty in walking, he took a few steps on the clearing in order to convince himself by a conclusive experiment that his limbs were in a sound state.

After a few moments of an exercise that restored circulation to his blood and elasticity to his joints, completely reassured about himself, the thought occurred to him of trying whether among the bodies lying around him any still breathed.

"They are only Indians," he muttered, "but, after all, they are men; although they are nearly deprived of reason, humanity orders me to help them; the more so, as my present situation has nothing very agreeable about it, and if I succeed in saving any of them, their knowledge of the desert will be of great service to me."

This last consideration determined him on helping men whom probably without it he would have abandoned to their fate, that is to say, to the teeth of the wild beasts which, attracted by the scent of blood, would have certainly made them their prey after dark.

Still it is our duty to render the egotistic citizen of the United States the justice of saying that, so soon as he had formed this determination, he acquitted himself conscientiously and sagaciously of his self-imposed task, which was easy to him after all; for the numerous professions he had carried on during the course of his adventurous life had given him a medical knowledge and experience which placed him in a position to give sick persons that care their condition demanded.

Unfortunately, most of the persons he inspected had received such serious wounds that life had long fled their bodies, and help was quite unavailing.

"Hang it, hang it!" the American muttered at every corpse he turned over, "These poor savages were killed by a master-hand. At any rate they did not suffer long, for with such fearful wounds they must have surrendered their souls to the Creator almost instantaneously."

He thus reached the spot where lay the body of Blue-fox, with a wide gaping wound in his chest.

"Ah, ah! Here is the worthy Chief," he went on. "What a gash! Let us see if he is dead too."

He bent over the motionless body, and put the blade of his knife to the Indian's lips.

"He does not stir," he continued, with an air of discouragement; "I am afraid I shall have some difficulty in bringing him round."

In a few minutes, however, he looked at the blade of his knife and saw that it was slightly tarnished.

"Come, he is not dead yet; so long as the soul holds to the body, there is hope, so I will have a try."

After this aside, John Davis fetched some water in his hat, mixed a small quantity of spirits with it, and began carefully laving the wound; this duty performed, he sounded it and found it of no great depth, and the abundant loss of blood had in all probability brought on the state of unconsciousness. Reassured by this perfectly correct reflection, he pounded some oregano leaves between two stones, made a species of cataplasm of them, laid it on the wound, and secured it with a strip of bark; then unclenching the wounded man's teeth with the blade of his knife, he thrust in the mouth of his flask, and made him drink a quantity of spirits.

Success almost immediately crowned the American's tentatives, for the Chief gave vent to a deep sigh, and opened his eyes almost instantaneously.

"Bravo!" John exclaimed, delighted at the unhoped for result he had achieved. "Courage, Chief, you are saved. By Jove! You may boast of having come back a precious long distance."

For some minutes the Indian remained stunned, looking around him absently, without any consciousness of the situation in which he was, or of the objects that surrounded him.

John attentively watched him, ready to give him help again, were it necessary; but it was not so. By degrees the Redskin appeared to grow livelier; his eyes lost their vacant expression, he sat up and passed his hand over his dank brow.

"Is the fight over?" he asked.

"Yes," John answered, "in our complete defeat; that was a splendid idea we had of capturing such a demon."

"Has he escaped, then?"

"Most perfectly so, and without a single wound, after killing at least a dozen of your warriors, and cleaving my poor Jim's skull down to the shoulders."

"Oh!" the Indian muttered hoarsely, "He is not a man, but the spirit of evil."

"Let him be what he likes," John exclaimed, energetically; "I intend to fight it out some day, for I hope to come across this demon again."

"May the Wacondah preserve my brother from such a meeting, for this demon would kill him."

"Perhaps so; as it is, if he did not do so to-day, it was no fault of his, but let him take care; we may some day stand face to face with equal weapons, and then—"

"What does he care for weapons? Did you not see that they have no power over him, and that his body is invulnerable?"

"Hum! That is possible; but for the present let us leave the subject and attend to matters that affect us much more closely. How do you find yourself?"

"Better, much better; the remedy you have applied to my wound does me great good; I am beginning to feel quite comfortable."

"All the better; now try to rest for two or three hours, while I watch over your sleep; after that, we will consult as to the best way of getting out of this scrape."

The Redskin smiled on hearing this remark.

"Blue-fox is no cowardly old woman whom a tooth-ache or ear-ache renders incapable of moving."

"I know that you are a brave warrior, Chief; but nature has limits, which cannot be passed, and, however great your courage and will may be, the abundant haemorrhage which your wound has caused you must have reduced you to a state of extreme weakness."

"I thank you, my brother; those words come from a friend; but Blue-fox is a Sachem in his nation, death alone can render him unable to move. My brother will judge of the Chief's weakness."

While uttering these words, the Indian made a supreme effort; fighting against pain, with the energy and contempt of suffering that characterize the Red race, he succeeded in rising, and not only stood firmly on his feet, but even walked several yards without assistance, or the slightest trace of emotion appearing on his face.

The American regarded him with profound admiration; he could not imagine, though he himself justly enjoyed a reputation for braver, that it was possible to carry so far the triumph of moral over physical force.

The Indian smiled proudly on reading in the American's eyes the astonishment his performance caused him.

"Does my brother still believe that Blue-fox is so weak?" he asked him.

"On my word, Chief, I know not what to think; what you have just done confounds me; I am prepared to suppose you capable of accomplishing impossibilities."

"The Chiefs of my nation are renowned warriors, who laugh at pain, and for them suffering does not exist," the Redskin said, proudly.

"I should be inclined to believe it, after your way of acting."

"My brother is a man; he has understood me. We will inspect together the warriors lying on the ground, and then think of ourselves."

"As for your poor comrades, Chief, I am compelled to tell you that we have no occasion to trouble ourselves about them, for they are all dead."

"Good! they fell nobly while fighting; the Wacondah will receive them into his bosom, and permit them to hunt with him on the happy prairies."

"So be it!"

"Now, before all else, let us settle the affair we began this morning, and which was so unexpectedly broken off."

John Davis, in spite, of his acquaintance with desert life, was confounded by the coolness of this man, who, having escaped death by a miracle, still suffering from a terrible wound, and who had regained possession of his intellectual faculties only a few moments before, seemed no longer to think of what had occurred, considered the events to which he had all but fallen a victim as the very natural accidents of the life he led, and began again, with the greatest freedom of mind, a conversation interrupted by a terrible fight, at the very point where he left it. The fact was, that, despite the lengthened intercourse the American had hitherto had with the Redskins, he had never taken the trouble to study their character seriously, for he was persuaded, like most of the whites indeed, that these men are beings almost devoid of intelligence, and that the life they lead places them almost on a level with the brute, while, on the contrary, this life of liberty and incessant perils renders danger so familiar to them that they have grown to despise it, and only attach a secondary importance to it.

"Be it so," he said presently; "since you wish it, Chief, I will deliver the message intrusted to me for you."

"My brother will take a place by my side."

The American sat down on the ground by the Chief, not without a certain feeling of apprehension through his isolation on this battle-field strewn with corpses; but the Indian appeared so calm and tranquil that John Davis felt ashamed to let his anxiety be seen, and affecting carelessness he was very far from feeling, he began to speak.

"I am sent to my brother by a great warrior of the Palefaces."

"I know him; he is called the Jaguar. His arm is strong, and his eye flashes like that of the animal whose name, he bears."

"Good! The Jaguar wishes to bury the hatchet between his warriors and those of my brother, in order that peace may unite them, and that, instead of fighting with each other, they may pursue the buffalo on the same hunting grounds, and avenge themselves on their common enemies. What answer shall I give the Jaguar?"

The Indian remained silent for a long time; at length he raised his head.

"My brother will open his ears," he said, "a Sachem is about to speak."

"I am listening," the American answered.

The Chief went on—

"The words my bosom breathes are sincere—the Wacondah inspires me with them; the Palefaces, since they were brought by the genius of evil in their large medicine-canoes to the territories of my fathers, have ever been the virulent enemies of the Red men; invading their richest and most fertile hunting grounds, pursuing them like wild beasts whenever they met with them, burning their callis, and dispersing the bones of their ancestors to the four winds of Heaven. Has not such constantly been the conduct of the Palefaces? I await my brother's answer."

"Well," the American said, with a certain amount of embarrassment, "I cannot deny, Chief, that there is some truth in what you say; but still, all the men of my colour have not been unkind to the Redskins, and several have tried to do them good."

"Wah! two or three have done so, but that only goes to prove what I assert. Let us come to the question we wish to discuss at present."

"Yes, I believe that will be the best," the American replied, delighted in his heart at not having to sustain a discussion which he knew would not result in victory to him.

"My nation hates the Palefaces," the Chief continued; "the condor does not make its nest with the maukawis, or the grizzly bear pair with the antelope. I, myself, have an instinctive hatred for the Palefaces. This morning, then, I should have peremptorily declined the Jaguar's proposals, for how do the wars the Palefaces wage together concern us? When the coyotes devour each other, the deer rejoice: we are happy to see our cruel oppressors tearing one another; but now, though my hatred is equally vivid, I am bound to bury it in my heart. My brother has saved my life; he helped when I was stretched out on the ground, and the Genius of Death was hovering over my head; ingratitude is a white vice, gratitude a red virtue. From this day the hatchet is buried between the Jaguar and Blue-fox for five succeeding moons; for five moons the enemies of the Jaguar will be those of Blue-fox; the two Chiefs will fight side by side, like loving brothers: in three suns from this one, the Sachem will join the Paleface Chief at the head of five hundred renowned warriors, whose heels are adorned with numerous coyote tails, and who form the pick of the nation. What will the Jaguar do for Blue-fox and his warriors?"

"The Jaguar is a generous Chief; if he is terrible for his enemies, his hand is always open for his friends; each Apache warrior will receive a rifle, one hundred charges of powder, and a scalping knife, The Sachem will also receive in addition to these presents two vicuna skins filled with fire-water."

"Wah!" the Chief exclaimed, with evident satisfaction, "My brother has said truly that the Jaguar is a generous Chief. Here is my totem as signal of alliance, as well as my feather of command."

While thus speaking the Chief drew from his game bag or medicine bag, which he wore slung, a square piece of parchment, on which was clumsily drawn the totem or animal emblematic of the tribe, handed it to the American, who placed it in his bosom; then removing the eagle feather fixed in his war-lock, he also gave him that.

"I thank my brother the Sachem," John Davis then said, "for having acceded to my proposal; he will have no cause to repent it."

"A Chief has given his word; but see, the sun is lengthening the shadows of the trees, the maukawis will soon strike up the evening song; the hour has come to pay the last duties to the Chiefs who are dead, and then separate to rejoin our common friends."

"On foot as we are, that appears to me rather difficult," John remarked.

The Indian smiled.

"The warriors of Blue-fox are watching over him," he said.

In fact, the Chief had hardly twice given a private signal, ere fifty Apache warriors burst into the clearing, and assembled silently around him.

The fugitives who escaped from the Scalper's terrible arm, soon collected again; they returned to their camp and announced the news of their defeat to their comrades, and then a detachment was sent off under the orders of a subaltern Chief, to look for their Sachem, But these horsemen, seeing Blue-fox in conference with a Paleface, remained under covert, patiently waiting till it pleased him to summon them.

The Sachem gave orders to bury the dead. The funeral ceremony then began, which circumstances compelled them to abbreviate.

The bodies were carefully washed, wrapped in new buffalo robes, and then placed in a sitting posture in trenches dug for each of them, with their weapons, bit, and provisions by their side, in order that they might want for nothing on their journey to the happy hunting grounds, and be able to mount and hunt so soon as they joined the Wacondah.

When these several rites had been performed, the hunters were filled up, and covered with heavy stones, lest the wild beasts should grub up and devour the bodies.

The sun was just disappearing on the horizon, when the Apaches finished the last duties to their brothers. Blue-fox then walked up to the hunter, who had hitherto been a silent, if not indifferent, spectator of the ceremony.

"My brother wishes to return to the warriors of his nation?" he said to him.

"Yes," the American laconically answered.

"The Paleface has lost his horse, so he will mount the mustang Blue-fox offers him; within two hours he can have returned to his friends."

John Davis gratefully accepted the present so generously made him, mounted at once, and, after taking leave of the Apaches, set off at full speed.

On their side, the Indians, at a signal from their Chief, buried themselves in the forest and clearing where such terrible events had occurred, and fell back into silence and solitude.