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The Indian Chief: The Story of a Revolution, Page 3

Gustave Aimard


  CHAPTER III.

  THE SPY.

  It was about eight in the morning when Valentine and Curumilla leftDon Louis. The hunter had passed the whole night without closing aneye. He felt fatigued: his eyelids, weighed down with sleep, closedinvoluntarily. Still he prepared to make the researches his fosterbrother had intrusted to him, when Curumilla, noticing his condition,invited him to take a few hours' rest, remarking that he did notabsolutely want him in following up the trail he had noticed in themorning, and that he would give him a good account of all he did.

  Valentine placed the most entire confidence in Curumilla. Many times,during the course of their common existence, he had been in a positionto appreciate the sagacity, cleverness, and experience of the chief;hence he needed but little pressing to consent to his proposition ofgoing out alone, and after giving him the warmest recommendations, hewrapped himself up in his cloak, and fell off to sleep at once.

  He had enjoyed for about two hours a peaceful and refreshing nap whenhe felt a hand gently laid on his shoulder. So light as the touch was,it was sufficient to arouse the hunter, who, like all men habituatedto prairie life, maintained, if we may use the expression, a senseof external things even during sleep. He opened his eyes, and lookedfixedly at the man who had come to disturb the rest he was enjoying,while mentally consigning him to the deuce.

  "Well," he said, with the harsh accent of a man aroused at thepleasantest moment of a dream, "what do you want of me, Don Cornelio?Could you not select a more favourable moment to talk with me, for Isuppose what you have to say to me is not extremely important?"

  Don Cornelio (for it was really that gentleman who awoke Valentine) laidhis finger on his mouth, while looking suspiciously around, as if torecommend caution to the hunter; then he leant over his ear.

  "Pardon me, Don Valentine," he said; "but I believe that thecommunication I have to make to you is of the utmost importance."

  Valentine sprang up as if moved by a spring, and looked the Spaniard inthe face.

  "What is the matter, then?" he asked in a low and concentrated voice,which, however, had something imperious about it.

  "I will tell you in two words. Colonel Flores (whose face, by the way,does not at all please me) has been doing nothing but prowl round themission since the morning, inquiring what has been done and left undone,gossiping with one or the other, and trying, above all, to discoverthe opinion of our men as regards the chief. There was not much harmin that, perhaps, but, so soon as he saw you were asleep, he learntthat the count, who was engaged with his correspondence, had givenorders that he should not be disturbed for some hours. Upon this hepretended, to retire to a half-ruined cabin situated at the outskirtsof the mission; but a few minutes after, when he supposed that no onewas thinking about him, instead of taking a siesta as he had given out,he slipped away from the hut among the trees like a man afraid of beingsurprised, and disappeared in the forest."

  "Ah, ah!" Valentine said thoughtfully, "what interest can that man havein absenting himself so secretly?" Then he added, "Has he been gonelong?"

  "Hardly ten minutes."

  Valentine rose.

  "Remain here," he said. "In case the colonel returns during my absence,watch him carefully; but do not let him suspect anything. I thank youfor not having hesitated to wake me. The matter is serious."

  Then, breaking off the conversation, the hunter quitted Don Cornelio,and gliding along under the shadow of the ruins, so as to attractno attention, entered the forest. In the meanwhile, Colonel Flores,believing Valentine to be asleep, and knowing that the count waswriting, felt no apprehension about being followed. He walked rapidlytoward the river, not taking any trouble to hide his footsteps--animprudence by which the hunter profited, and which placed him at once onthe track of the man he was watching.

  The colonel soon arrived at the river. The most complete calm prevailedaround; the alligators were wallowing in the mud; the flamingoes werefishing negligently: all, in a word, evidenced the absence of man.Still, the colonel had scarce appeared on the bank ere an individual,hanging by his arms from the branch of a tree, descended to the groundscarce a couple of paces from him. At this unexpected apparition thecolonel recoiled, stifling a cry of surprise and alarm; but he had notthe time to recover from his emotion ere a second individual leaped inthe same fashion on the sand. Mechanically Don Francisco raised his eyesto the tree.

  "Oh, oh!" the first arrival said with a coarse laugh, "you need nottake the trouble to look up there, Garrucholo; no one is left there."

  At the name of Garrucholo the colonel shuddered, and attentivelyexamined the two men who had presented themselves in so strangea manner, as they stood motionless before him, and looked at himderisively. The first of the two was a white man, as could be easilyrecognised at the first glance, in spite of his bronzed complexion,which was almost of the colour of brick. The clothes he wore wereexactly like those of the Indians. This interesting personage was armedto the teeth, and held a long rifle in his hand. His comrade was aredskin, painted and armed for war.

  "Eh?" the first speaker continued. "I fancy you do not recognise me,boy. By God, you have a short memory!"

  This oath, and, above all, the strong accent with which the manexpressed himself in Spanish, although he spoke that language fluently,were a ray of light for the colonel.

  "El Buitre!" he exclaimed, striking his forehead.

  "Come," the other said with a laugh, "I felt certain that you had notforgotten me, companero."

  This, unexpected meeting was anything but agreeable to the colonel;still he considered it prudent not to let it be seen.

  "By what accident are you here, then?" he asked.

  "And you?" the other answered boldly.

  "I! My presence is perfectly natural, and easily to be explained."

  "And mine too."

  "Ah!"

  "Hang it! I am here because you are so."

  "Hum!" the colonel said, maintaining a reserve. "Explain that to me,will you?"

  "I am quite ready to do so, but the spot is badly selected for talkingCome with me."

  "I beg your pardon, Buitre, my friend. We are, as you said yourself, oldacquaintances."

  "Which means?"

  "That I doubt you excessively."

  The bandit began laughing.

  "A confidence that honours me," he said, "and of which I am deserving.Did you find in the mission church the hilt of a dagger with an Sengraved on the pommel?"

  "Yes."

  "Very good. That hilt signified, I think, that you were to take a walkin this quarter?"

  "It did."

  "Well, the persons with whom you must converse are before you. Do younow understand?"

  "Perfectly."

  "Then let us have a talk; but as what we have to say only concernsourselves, and it is unnecessary to mix up in our business people whohave no concern with it, we will proceed to a spot where we shall havenothing to fear from indiscreet ears."

  "Who the deuce do you expect will surprise you here?"

  "No one, probably; but, my esteemed friend, as prudence is the mother ofsafety, I have become, since our last parting, extraordinarily prudent."

  "I'll go wherever you please."

  "Come on."

  The three men re-entered the forest.

  Valentine followed them pace by pace. They did not go far. On arriving acertain distance from the river they stopped at the entrance of a largeclearing, in the centre of which rose an enormous block of green rock.The three men clambered up, and, on reaching the top, lay down at theirease on a species of platform.

  "There!" El Buitre said, "I believe we can talk here in perfect surety."

  Valentine was for an instant rather disappointed at this precautionon the part of the bandits. Still he did not give in. The hunter wasaccustomed to see material impossibilities arise before him of the samenature as in the present case. After a few seconds' reflection he lookedaround him with a malicious glance.

  "Now to see who is the most
cunning," he muttered.

  He lay down on the ground. The grass grew tall, green, and close inthe clearing; and Valentine began crawling, with a slow and almostimperceptible motion, in the direction of the rocks, passing through thegrass without imparting the slightest oscillation to it. After about aquarter of an hour of this manoeuvre the hunter saw his efforts crownedwith success; for he reached a spot where it was possible for him torise, and whence he was enabled to overhear perfectly all that was saidon the platform, while himself remaining invisible.

  Unfortunately the time he had employed in gaining his observatoryprevented him hearing what were probably very important matters. At themoment he began listening El Buitre was the speaker.

  "Bah, bah!" he said with that mocking accent peculiar to him, "I answerfor success. Even if the French are devils, each of them is not equal totwo men. Hang it all, let me alone!"

  "_Canarios!_ may I be hanged if I interfere at all in this affair! Ihave done too much already," the colonel made answer.

  "You are always a trembler. How do you expect that men half demoralised,fatigued by a long journey, can resist the combined and well-directedattack of my brother's, this Apache chief's, band, supported as theywill be by the eighty scoundrels the Mexican Government has placed at mydisposal for this expedition?"

  "I do not know what the French will do; but you will, perhaps, learnthat they are stout fellows."

  "All the better--we shall have the more fun."

  "Take care not to have too much," El Garrucholo said with a grin.

  "Go to the deuce with your observations! Besides, I have a grudgeagainst their chief, as you know."

  "Bah! how can a man like you have a grudge against anyone in particular?He only has a grudge against riches. Who are your men?"

  "_Civicos_--real bandits--regular game for the gallows. My dear fellow,they will perform miracles."

  "What! civicos? The idea is glorious--the men whom the hacenderos payand support for the purpose of fighting the redskins."

  "Good Lord, yes, that is the way of the world. This time they will fightby the side of the redskins against the whites. The idea is original,is it not, especially as, for this affair, they will be disguised asIndians?"

  "Better still. And the chief, how many warriors has he with him?"

  "I do not know; he will tell you himself."

  The chief had remained gloomy and silent during this conversation, andthe colonel now turned toward him with an inquiring glance.

  "Mixcoatzin is a powerful chief," the redskin said in his gutturalvoice: "two hundred Apache warriors follow his war plume."

  El Garrucholo gave a significant whistle.

  "Well," he continued, "I maintain what I said."

  "What?"

  "You will receive an awful thrashing."

  El Buitre repressed with difficulty a gesture of ill-temper.

  "Enough," he said; "you do not know the Indians. This chief is one ofthe bravest sachems of his tribe. His reputation is immense in theprairies. The warriors placed under his orders are all picked men."

  "Very good. Do what you please: I wash my hands of it."

  "Can we at least reckon on you?"

  "I will execute punctually the orders I received from the general."

  "I ask no more."

  "Then nothing is changed?"

  "Nothing. Always the same hour and the same signal."

  "In that case it is useless for us to remain longer together. I willreturn to the mission, for I must try to avoid any suspicion."

  "Go, and may the demon continue his protection to you!"

  "Thanks."

  The colonel left the platform. Valentine hesitated a moment, thinkingwhether he should follow him; but, after due reflection, he feltpersuaded that all was not finished yet, and that he should probablystill obtain some precious information. El Buitre shrugged hisshoulders, and turning to the Indian chief, who was still impassive,said,--

  "Pride has ruined that man. He was a jolly comrade a few years back."

  "What will my brother do now?"

  "Not much. I shall remain in hiding here until the sun has runtwo-thirds of its course, and then go and rejoin my comrades."

  "The chief will retire. His warriors are still far off."

  "Very good. Then we shall not meet again till the appointed moment?"

  "No. The paleface will attack on the side of the forest, while theApaches advance by the river."

  "All right! But let us be prudent, for a misunderstanding might provefatal. I will draw as near as possible to the mission; but I warn youthat I shall not budge till I hear your signal."

  "Wah! my brother will open his ears, and the miawling of the tiger-catwill warn him that the Apaches have arrived."

  "I understand perfectly. One parting remark, chief."

  "I listen to the paleface."

  "It is clearly understood that the booty will be shared equally betweenus?"

  The Indian gave a wicked smile.

  "Yes," he said.

  "No treachery between us, redskin, or, by God! I warn you that I willflay you alive like a mad dog."

  "The palefaces have too long a tongue."

  "That is possible; but if you do not wish misfortune to fall on you,profit by my words."

  The Indian only replied by a gesture of contempt: he wrapped himself inhis buffalo robe, and retired slowly.

  The bandit looked after him for a moment.

  "Miserable dog!" he muttered, "so soon as I can do without you I willsettle your account, be assured."

  The Indian had disappeared.

  "Hum! what shall I be after now?" El Buitre continued.

  Suddenly a man bounded like a jaguar, and, before the bandit could evenunderstand what was happening, he was firmly garotted, and reduced to astate of complete powerlessness.

  "You do not know what to be after? Well, I will tell you," Valentineremarked, as he sat down quietly by his side.

  The first moment of surprise past, the bandit regained all his coolnessand audacity, and looked impudently at the hunter.

  "By God! I do not know you, comrade," he said; "but I must confess youmanaged that cleverly."

  "You are a connoisseur."

  "Slightly so."

  "Yes, I am aware of it."

  "But you have tied me a little too tightly. Your confounded reata cutsinto my flesh."

  "Bah! you will grow used to it."

  "Hum!" the bandit remarked. "Did you hear all we said?"

  "Nearly all."

  "Deuce take me if people can now talk in the desert without havinglisteners!"

  "What would you? It is a melancholy fact."

  "Well, I must put up with it, I suppose. You were saying----"

  "I! I did not say a word."

  "Ah! I beg your pardon in that case; but I fancied you werecross-questioning me. You probably did not tie me up like a plug oftobacco for the mere fun of the thing."

  "There is some truth in your observation. I had, I allow, anotherobject."

  "What is it?"

  "To enjoy your conversation for a moment."

  "You are a thousand times too kind."

  "Opportunities for conversing are so rare in the desert."

  "That is true."

  "So you are on an expedition?"

  "Yes, I am: a man must be doing something."

  "That is true also. Be good enough to give me a few details."

  "About what?"

  "Why, this expedition."

  "Ah, ah! I should like to do so, but unfortunately that is impossible."

  "Only think of that! Why so?"

  "I know very little."

  "Ah!"

  "Yes; and then I am of a very crooked temper. A person need only ask meto do a thing for me to refuse."

  Valentine smiled, and drew his knife, whose dazzling blade emitted abluish flash.

  "Even if convincing reasons are offered you?"

  "I do not know any," the bandit answered with a grin.

 
"Oh, oh!" Valentine remarked. "Still I hope I shall alter your opinion."

  "Try it. Stay!" he added, suddenly changing his tone. "Enough of thatsort of farce. I am in your power--nothing can save me. Kill me--nomatter, I shall not say a word."

  The two men exchanged glances of strange expressiveness.

  "You are an idiot," Valentine answered coldly; "you understand nothing."

  "I understand that you want to know the secrets of the expedition."

  "You are a fool, my dear friend. Did I not tell you that I knew all?"

  The bandit seemed to reflect for a minute.

  "What do you want, then?" he said.

  "Merely to buy you."

  "Hum! that will be dear."

  "You do not say no?"

  "I never say no to anything."

  "I see you are becoming reasonable."

  "Who knows?"

  "At how much do you estimate your share of this night's booty?"

  El Buitre looked at him as if wishful to read the thoughts in his heart.

  "Hang it! that will mount high."

  "Yes, especially if you are hung!"

  "Oh!"

  "Everything must be foreseen in such a business."

  "You are right."

  "The more so as, if you refuse the bargain I offer you, I will kill youlike a dog."

  "That's a chance."

  "It is very probable. So take my word, let us bargain. Give me yourfigure."

  "Fifteen thousand piastres," the bandit exclaimed; "not an ochavo less."

  "Pooh!" Valentine said, "that is little."

  "Eh?" he remarked in amazement.

  "I will give you twenty thousand."

  In spite of the bonds that held him the bandit gave a start.

  "Done!" he exclaimed; but in a moment added, "Where is the sum?"

  "Do you fancy me such a fool as to pay you beforehand?"

  "Hang it! I fancy----"

  "Nonsense! You are mad, compadre. Now that we understand one another,let me undo you--that will freshen up your ideas."

  He took off the reata. El Buitre rose at once, stamped his foot torestore the circulation, and then turning to the hunter, who stoodwatching him laughingly, with his hands crossed on the muzzle of hisrifle, said,--

  "At least you have some security to give me?"

  "Yes, and an excellent one."

  "What?"

  "The word of an honest man."

  The bandit made a gesture; but Valentine continued, not seeming tonotice it,--

  "I am the man whom the whites and Indians have surnamed the'Trail-hunter.' My name is Valentine Guillois."

  "What!" El Buitre exclaimed with strange emotion, "are you really theTrail-hunter?"

  "I am," Valentine answered simply.

  El Buitre walked up and down the platform hastily, muttering in alow voice broken sentences, and evidently a prey to intense emotion.Suddenly he stopped before the hunter.

  "I accept," he said hurriedly.

  "Tomorrow you shall receive your money."

  "I will none of it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Valentine, allow me to remain master of my secret for a few days; Iwill then explain my conduct to you. Though I am a bandit, every feelingis not yet dead in my heart; there is one which has remained pure, andthat is gratitude. Trust to me. Henceforth you will not have a moredevoted slave, either for good or evil."

  "Your accent is not that of a man who has the intention of deceiving. Itrust to you, asking no explanation of your sudden change of feeling."

  "At a later date you shall know all, I tell you; and now that we arealone, explain to me your plan in all its details, in order that I mayhelp you effectively."

  "Yes," Valentine said, "time presses."

  The two men remained alone for about two hours discussing the hunter'splan, and when all was settled they separated--Valentine to return tothe mission, and El Buitre to rejoin his companions, who were concealeda short distance off.