Читать книгу The Freebooters - Gustave Aimard - Страница 9
CHAPTER VI.
THE HUNTER'S COUNCIL.
ОглавлениеWe will now return to Tranquil, whom we have too long neglected. The Canadian had left his friends two musket shots from the Texan encampment, intending, were it required, to call in Carmela: but that was not necessary; the young man, though unwillingly, had consented to all the Canadian asked of him, with which the latter was delighted, for without knowing exactly why, he would have been sorry to facilitate an interview between the young people.
Immediately after his conversation with the leader of the Freebooters, the hunter rose, and, in spite of the Jaguar's efforts to retain him, left the camp. He then remounted his horse, and, only half satisfied by his conversation with the Jaguar, returned thoughtfully to the spot where his friends were camping. The latter were awaiting him anxiously, and Carmela especially was suffering from a terrible uneasiness.
It was a strange fact, which women alone can explain, that the maiden, perhaps unconsciously, entertained toward the Jaguar and Captain Melendez feelings which she was afraid to analyze, but which led her to take an equal interest in the fate of those two men, and fear a collision between them, whatever the result might have proved. But for all that, it is certain that if she had been obliged to explain the reason which impelled her to act thus, she would have been unable to answer; and had anybody told her that she loved one or the other, she would have energetically protested; under the honest conviction that she spoke the truth.
Still, she felt herself, perhaps from different motives, irresistibly attracted toward them. She started at their approach; the sound of their voices caused her an internal thrill of happiness; if she remained long without news of them, she grew sad, pensive, and anxious; their presence restored her all her gaiety and birdlike freedom.
Was it friendship, or was it love? Who can answer?
Tranquil found his friends comfortably located in a narrow clearing, near a fire, over which their next meal was cooking. Carmela, a little apart, questioned with an impatient glance the path by which she knew the hunter must arrive. So soon as she perceived him, she uttered a suppressed cry of delight, and made a movement to run and meet him; but she checked herself with a flush, let her head droop, and concealed herself timidly behind a clump of floripondios.
Tranquil peacefully dismounted, took the bridle off his horse, which he sent with a friendly slap on the croup to join its comrades, and then sat down by the side of Loyal Heart.
"Ouf!" he said, "Here I am, back again, and not without difficulty."
"Did you run any dangers?" Loyal Heart asked, eagerly.
"Not at all; on the contrary, the Jaguar received me, as he was bound to do, that is, as a friend; and I have only to complain of his courtesy; besides, we have known each other too long for it to be otherwise."
Carmela had softly come up to the hunter; she suddenly bent her graceful head down to him, and offered him her forehead to kiss.
"Good day, father," she said, demurely, "you have already returned?"
"Already!" Tranquil answered, as he kissed her and laughed, "Hang it, girl, it seems as if my absence did not appear to you long."
"Pardon me, father, I did not mean that," she said, in great confusion.
"What did you mean, then, my child?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Yes you did, you little rogue! But you cannot deceive me, with all your tricks; I am too old a fox to be taken in by a girl."
"You are unkind, father," she answered, with a pout, "you always give a false meaning to what I say."
"Only think of that, señorita! Well, do not be in a passion, I have brought you good news."
"Do you mean it?" she said, clasping her hands joyfully.
"Would you doubt my word?"
"Oh, no, father."
"Very good, so now sit down by my side and listen."
"Speak, speak, father," she exclaimed eagerly, as she took the seat allotted her.
"You seem to take great interest in Captain Melendez, my child?"
"I, father!" she exclaimed with a start of surprise.
"Hang it! I fancy a young lady must feel a lively interest in a person, to take such a step for his sake as you have done."
The maiden became serious.
"Father," she said a moment later with that little, resolute tone spoilt children know so well how to assume; "I could not tell you why I acted as I did; I swear that it was against my will, I was mad; the thought that the Captain and the Jaguar were about to engage in a mortal combat, made me chill at heart; and yet I assure you, now that I am cool, I question myself in vain to discover the reason which urged me to intercede with you to prevent that combat."
The hunter shook his head.
"All that is not clear, Niña," he replied; "I do not at all understand your arguments. Hang it! I am only a poor woodranger, possessing no more learning than I have drawn from the great scenes of nature I constantly have before my eyes, and a woman's heart is to me a closed book, in which I could not decipher a line. Still, girl, believe me, take care, and do not play imprudently with weapons whose strength and mechanism you are ignorant of; though the antelope be so light and active when it is leaping from rock to rock on the verge of precipices, the moment arrives when it grows giddy, its head turns, and it rolls into the abyss—I have often seen similar catastrophes in the forests. Take care, my girl, take care, and believe in the old hunter's experience."
Carmela pensively leant her blushing brow on the Canadian's shoulder, and lifted to him her large blue eyes full of tears.
"I am suffering, father," she murmured sadly.
"Good Heavens! My child, you are suffering, and did not tell me—are you ill?" he exclaimed anxiously; "How imprudent it was of you to be out in the desert by night."
"You are mistaken, father," she replied with a faint smile; "I am not ill, it is not that."
"What is it then?"
"I do not know, but my heart is contracted, my bosom is oppressed. Oh, I am very unhappy!"
And hiding her head in her hands, she burst into tears. Tranquil looked at her for a moment with an astonishment mingled with terror.
"You, unhappy!" he at length exclaimed as he smote his head passionately. "Oh, whatever has been done to her, that she should weep thus!"
There was a silence of some minutes' duration, when the conversation seemed to take a confidential turn. Loyal Heart and Lanzi rose quietly, and soon disappeared in the chaparral. Tranquil and the maiden were hence alone. The hunter was suffering from one of those cold fits of passion which are so terrible because so concentrated; adoring the girl, he fancied in his simple ignorance that it was he who, without suspecting it, through the coarseness and frivolity of his manner, rendered her unhappy, and he accused himself in his heart for not having secured her that calm and pleasant life he had dreamed for her.
"Forgive me, my child," he said to her with emotion; "forgive me for being the involuntary cause of your suffering. You must not be angry with me, for really it is no fault of mine, I have always lived alone in the desert, and never learned how to treat natures so frail as those of women; but henceforth I will watch myself. You will have no reason to reproach me again. I promise you I will do all you wish, my darling child—well, does that satisfy you?"
By a sudden reaction, the maiden wiped away her tears, and bursting into a joyous laugh, threw her arms round the hunter's neck, and kissed him repeatedly.
"It is you who should pardon me, father," she said in her wheedling voice, "for I seem to take pleasure in tormenting you, who are so kind to me; I did not know what I was saying just now; I am not unhappy, I do not suffer, I am quite happy, and love you dearly, my good father; I only love you."
Tranquil looked at her in alarm; he could not understand these sudden changes of humour, whose cause escaped him.
"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands in terror; "My daughter is mad!"
At this exclamation, the laughing girl's gaiety was augmented. The silvery sound of her laugh would have made a nightingale die of envy.
"I am not mad, father," she said, "I was so just now when I spoke to you in the way I did, but now the crisis has past; forgive me, and think no more about it."
"Hum!" the hunter muttered, as he raised his eyes to Heaven in great embarrassment; "I desire nothing more, Niña; but I am no further on than I was before, and on my word I understand nothing of what is passing through your mind."
"What matter, so long as I love you, father? All girls are so, and no importance must be attached to their caprices."
"Good, good, it must be so since you say it, little one. But for all that, I suffered terribly, your words rent my heart."
Carmela lovingly kissed him.
"And the Jaguar?" she asked.
"All is arranged; the Captain has nothing to fear from him."
"Oh, the Jaguar has a noble heart; if he has pledged his word, he may be trusted."
"He has given it to me."
"Thanks, father. Well, now that all is arranged according to our wishes—"
"Your wishes?" the hunter interrupted.
"Mine or yours, father—is that not the same thing?"
"That is true, I was wrong—go on."
"Well, I say, call your friends, who are walking about close by, I suppose, and let me eat, for I am dying of hunger."
"Are you?" he said eagerly.
"Indeed, I am; but I was ashamed to tell you."
"In that case you will not have long to wait."
The Canadian whistled; and the two men, who probably only awaited this signal, made their appearance at once. The venison was removed from the fire, laid on a leaf, and all seated themselves comfortably.
"Hilloh!" Tranquil said all at once, "Why, where is Quoniam?"
"He left us shortly after your departure," Loyal Heart made answer "to go to the Larch-tree hacienda, as he told us."
"All right, I did not think of that; I am not anxious about my old comrade, for he will manage to find us again."
Each then began eating with good appetite, and troubled themselves no further about the Negro's absence. It is a noteworthy fact, that men whom the life they lead compels to a continual employment of their physical faculties, whatever may be the circumstances in which they are, or the dangers that surround them—always eat with a good appetite, and sleep soundly, so indispensable for them is the satisfaction of these two material wants, in order that they may successfully resist the incessant incidents of their existence, which is so varied, and full of accidents of every description.
During the hunter's meal, the sun had set, and night invaded the forest. Carmela, exhausted by the various events of this day, retired almost immediately to a light jacal of leaves which Loyal Heart had built for her. The maiden needed to restore order in her ideas, and take a few hours' rest, the privation from which had over-excited her nervous system, and caused the crisis which had fallen on her a few hours previously.
When they were alone, the hunters laid in a stock of dead wood, which would keep the fire in all night then, after throwing on some handfuls of dry branches, they sat down in Indian fashion, that is to say, with their back to the flame, so that their eyes might not be dazzled by the light, and they could distinguish in the gloom the arrival of any unwelcome guest, man or wild beast. When this precaution had been taken, and the rifles laid within hand reach, they lit their pipes and smoked silently.
It is specially at night, when the sounds of day die out to make room for the mysterious rumours of the darkness, that the desert assumes a grand and imposing appearance, which affects the mind, and leads it into those gentle and melancholy reveries which are so full of charm. The purer night air refreshed by the breeze which passes through the branches and gently agitates them; the murmuring of the water among the lilies; the confused buzz of myriads of invisible insects; the silence of the desert interrupted by the melodious and animated sounds; and that busy hum of the great flood of life which comes from God and passes away incessantly to be constantly renewed—all these things plunge the strong-hearted man involuntarily into a religious contemplation, which those to whom the grand scenes of nature are unknown, cannot imagine.
The night was cold and clear; a profusion of light flashed from the millions of stars that studded the dark olive sky, and the moon poured on the earth her silvery rays which imparted a fantastic appearance to objects.—The atmosphere was so pure and transparent that the eye could distinguish, as in bright day, the surrounding landscape. Several hours passed thus, and one of the three men, seduced as they were by the splendour of the night, thought of taking that rest which, however, was so necessary after the fatigues of the day.
"Who will keep watch tonight?" Lanzi at length asked, as he passed the stem of his pipe through his belt; "We are surrounded by people amongst whom it is wise to take precautions."
"That is true," said Loyal Heart; "do you sleep, and I will watch for all."
"One moment," the Canadian said; "if sleep does not too greatly overpower you. Lanzi, we will profit by Carmela's absence to hold a council. The situation in which we are is intolerable for a girl, and we must make up our minds to some course at once. Unluckily, I know not what to do, and your ideas will hardly suffice, I fear, to get me out of my embarrassment."
"I am at your orders, Tranquil," Lanzi answered; "let us hold a council, and I will make up for it by sleeping faster."
"Speak, my friend," said Loyal Heart.
The hunter reflected for a moment, and then continued—
"Life is rough in the desert for delicate natures: we men, accustomed to fatigue, and hardened to privations, not only support it without thinking of it, but even find delight in it."
"That is true," Loyal Heart observed; "but the dangers that men such as we can bear, it would be unjust and cruel to inflict on a woman—a maiden who has hardly emerged from childhood, and whose life has hitherto passed exempt from care, privations, or fatigue of any description."
"Yes," Lanzi supported him.
"That is the very point," Tranquil continued; "though it will cost me a pang to part with her, Carmela can no longer remain with us."
"It would kill her," said Loyal Heart.
"It would not take long, poor little darling," Lanzi pouted.
"Yes: but to whom can I trust her now that the venta is destroyed?"
"It is a difficult point," Lanzi observed.
"Stay," said Loyal Heart, "are you not tigrero to the Larch-tree hacienda?"
"I am."
"There you have it," the Half-breed exclaimed. "That is a good idea. It would not have occurred to me."
"What idea?" the Canadian asked.
"The master of the hacienda," Loyal Heart continued, "will not refuse to receive Carmela in his house."
The hunter shook his head in denial. "No, no," he said, "if I once asked the favour of him, I feel certain he would consent; but it cannot be."
"Why?"
"Because the owner of the Larch-tree is not the man we need to protect a girl."
"Hum!" Loyal Heart said, "Our situation is growing more complicated, for I know nobody else who would take charge of her."
"Nor I either, and that is what vexes me. Listen!" Loyal Heart suddenly exclaimed, "I do not know. Heaven pardon me, where my head was that I did not think of it at once. Do not be alarmed: I know somebody."
"Speak, speak."
"Come," the half-breed said aside, "this Loyal Heart is really a capital fellow, for he is full of good ideas."
"For reasons too long to tell you at this moment, but which I will confide to you some day," the young man continued, "I am not alone in the desert, for my mother and an old servant of my family live about three hundred miles from where we now are with a tribe of Comanches, whose Chief adopted me a few years back. My mother is kind, she loves me madly, and will be delighted to treat your charming child as a daughter. She will watch over her, and give her those maternal attentions which only a woman can offer, especially when that woman is really a mother, and constantly trembles for the safety of a son to whom she has sacrificed everything. Every month, on the same day, I abandon the chase, mount my mustang, and, traversing the desert with the speed of an arrow, I go and see my mother, with whom I remain for some time among the tribe. This is about the period when I am wont to proceed to the village; so, will you let me guide you there? Coming with me, the Indians will receive you kindly, and my mother will thank you for confiding your daughter to her."
"Loyal Heart," the Canadian answered, with emotion, "your offer is that of an honest, upright man. I accept it as frankly as you make it; by the side of your mother my daughter will be happy, and she will have nothing to fear. Thanks."
"Loyal Heart," the half-breed said, eagerly, "I know not who gave you the name you bear; but, canarios, he was well acquainted with you, I declare."
The two men smiled at Lanzi's outbreak.
"Now, that is settled," he continued, "you want me no longer, I suppose? If so, good night; my eyelids prick as if they were full of thorns."
He wrapped himself carefully in his zarapé, stretched himself on the ground, and a minute later was fast asleep. It is probable that the worthy man wished to make up for lost time, for he saw plainly that he had been of no use in the council.
"When do we start?" the Canadian asked.
"The road is a long one," Loyal Heart answered. "We have more than three hundred miles to ride; Carmela is exhausted by the fatigue she has endured for some time past, and perhaps we should do well to grant her a day or two of rest to regain the requisite strength to endure the new fatigues that await her during the long journey we are about to undertake."
"Yes, you are right; this journey, which would be as nothing to us, is enormous for a girl; let us remain here a couple of days—the camp is good, and the spot well selected. There is nothing to hurry us; it is better to act prudently, in order that we may not have at a later date to regret precipitation, which may prove fatal to her whom we desire so greatly to protect."
"During the time we spend here our horses will regain their fire and vigour, and we can profit by the rest to get some provisions together."
"Well said, brother; that is settled; in two days we will set out, and I hope that Heaven will be so merciful as to permit us to reach our journey's end safe and sound."
"Heaven will not turn against us, brother, you may be sure."
"I am well aware of that," the Canadian answered, with that simple faith which characterised him; "hence you see me quite happy. You cannot imagine how anxious I feel, and what an immense service you have just rendered me."
"Do not speak about that, for are we not sworn friends?"
"No matter, I must thank you once more, my heart is so full that it must overflow; but now that we understand each other thoroughly, go and sleep, my friend; night is drawing on apace, and you must need rest."
"On the contrary, you must lie down, my friend, for do you not remember I said I would keep watch?"
"No, no."
"But you must be tired to death, my friend."
"I? Nonsense; I have a body of iron and nerves of steel; weariness has no effect on me."
"Still, my friend, human strength, however great it may be, has its limits, beyond which it cannot go."
"That is possible, my friend. I will not discuss that question with you, but merely limit myself to saying that joy has robbed me of sleep. I am as wide awake as an opossum, and in vain should I try to close my eyes. No, I require to reflect a little on all this, and I propose doing so, while you, who are naturally calmer, will sleep."
"As you insist on it, I will give way."
"Very good; you are becoming reasonable," Tranquil said, with a smile. "Good night, brother."
"Good night!" Loyal Heart answered.
The young man, in the face of the resolve so clearly made by the Canadian, thought it useless longer to resist, the more so, as he was beginning to feel great inclination for sleep. He, therefore, lay down, and was soon sound asleep. Tranquil had spoken the truth; he required to isolate himself for some hours, in order to go over the events which during the last few days had fallen upon him so unexpectedly, and broken up that placidity of life to which he had grown gently accustomed for some years past.
The hours passed away one after the other, but the hunter, plunged in his reflections, felt no desire for sleep. The stars were beginning to go out, the horizon was crossed by pale bands, the breeze grew sharper and colder; all foreboded, in fact, the approach of dawn, when suddenly a slight noise, resembling that produced by the fracture of a withered branch, smote on the hunter's practised ear, and caused him to start. The Canadian, without stirring, raised his head and listened, while softly placing his hand on the rifle that lay by his side.