INDIAN DIPLOMACY.
We will return, for the present, to Valentine and his comrades.
The sudden apparition of the sachem of the Coras had produced a certain degree of emotion among the hunters and the Comanches. Valentine, the first to recover from his surprise, addressed Eagle-wing.
"My brother is welcome," he said, as he held out his hand, which the Indian warmly pressed, "What news does the chief bring us?"
"Good," the Coras answered laconically.
"All the better," the hunter said gaily; "for some time past all we have received has been so bad that my brother's will create a diversion."
The Indian smiled at this sally, but made no remark.
"My brother can speak," Valentine continued; "he is surrounded by none but friends."
"I know it," the chief answered, as he bowed gracefully to the company. "Since I left my brother two months have passed away: I have worn out many moccasins amid the thorns and brambles of the desert; I have been beyond the Great Lakes to the villages of my nation."
"Good; my brother is a chief; he was doubtless well received by the sachems of the Coras of the Great Lakes."
"Mookapec is a renowned warrior among his people," the Indian answered proudly; "his place by the council fire of the nation is pointed out. The chiefs saw him with joy: on his road he had taken the scalps of seven gachupinos: they are now drying before the great medicine lodge."
"It was your right to do so, chief, and I cannot blame you. The Spaniards have done you harm enough for you to requite them."
"My brother speaks well; his skin is white, but his heart is red."
"Hum," observed Valentine; "I am a friend to justice; vengeance is permissible against treachery. Go on, chief."
The hunter's comrades had drawn nearer, and now formed a circle round the two speakers. Curumilla was occupied silently, as was his wont, in completely stripping each Spanish prisoner, whom he then bound in such a way that the slightest movement was impossible.
Valentine, although time pressed, knew too well the Redskin character to try and hurry Eagle-wing on. He felt certain that the chief had important news to communicate to him; but it would have been no use trying to draw it from him; hence he allowed him to act as he pleased. Unicorn, leaning on his rifle, listened attentively, without evincing the slightest impatience.
"Did my brother remain long with his tribe," Valentine continued.
"Two suns. Eagle-wing had left behind him friends to whom his heart drew him."
"Thanks, chief, for the pleasant recollections of us."
"The chiefs assembled in council to hear the words of Eagle-wing," the Coras continued. "They shuddered with fury on hearing of the massacre of their children; but Mookapec had formed his plan, and two hundred warriors are assembled beneath his totem."
"Good!" said Valentine, "the chief will avenge himself."
The Indian smiled.
"Yes," he said, "my young men have their orders, they know what I mean to do."
"Very good; in that case they are near here?"
"No," the chief replied, with a shake of his head. "Eagle-wing does not march with them; he has hidden himself under the skin of an Apache dog."
"What does my brother say?" Valentine asked with amazement.
"My white brother is quick," Unicorn said, sententiously; "he will let Mookapec speak. He is a great sachem, and wisdom dwells in him."
Valentine shook his head, however, and said—
"Hum! Answering one act of treachery by another, that is not the way in which the warriors of my nation behave."
"The nation of my brother is great, and strong as the grizzly bear," Unicorn said; "it does not need to march along hidden paths. The poor Indians are weak as the beaver, but like him they are very cunning."
"That is true," Valentine replied, "cunning must be allowed you in dealing with the implacable enemies who surround you. I was wrong; so go on, chief; tell us what deviltry you have invented, and if it is ingenious. Well, I will be the first to applaud it."
"Wah, my brother shall judge. Red Cedar is about to enter the desert, as my brother doubtless knows?"
"Yes."
"Does my brother know the Gringo has asked the Apaches for a guide?"
"No, I did not."
"Good. Stanapat, the great chief of the Apaches, sent a Navajo warrior to act as guide to Red Cedar."
"Well?"
"The Navajo was scalped by Eagle-wing."
"Ah, ah! Then Red Cedar cannot set out?"
"Yes, he can do so when he likes."
"How so?"
"Because Eagle-wing takes the place of the guide."
Unicorn smiled.
"My brother has a deal of wisdom," he said.
"Hum!" Valentine remarked, with some show of ill-humour. "It is possible, but you play for a heavy stake, chief. That old villain is as crafty as ten monkeys and ten opossums united. I warn you that he will recognise you."
"No."
"I wish it; for if he does, you are a lost man."
"Good, my brother can be easy. Eagle-wing is a warrior; he will see the white hunter again in the desert."
"I wish so, chief; but I doubt. However, act as you please. When will you join Red Cedar?"
"This night."
"You are going to leave us?"
"At once. Eagle-wing has nothing more to confide to his brother."
And, after bowing courteously to the company, the Coras chief glided into the thicket, in which he disappeared almost instantaneously. Valentine looked after him for some time.
"Yes," he said at last, with a thoughtful air, "his project is a daring one, such as might be expected from so great a warrior. May heaven protect him, and allow him to succeed! Well, we shall see; perhaps all is for the best so."
And he turned to Curumilla.
"The clothes?" he said.
"Here they are," the Aucas answered, laconically, as he pointed to an enormous heap of clothing.
"What does my brother mean to do with them?" Unicorn asked.
"My brother will see," Valentine said, with a smile, "each of us is going to put on one of those uniforms."
The Comanche drew himself up hastily.
"No," he said, "Unicorn does not put off the dress of his people. What need have we of this disguise?"
"In order to enter the camp of the Spaniards without being discovered."
"Wah! For what good? Unicorn will summon his young men to cut a passage through the corpses of the gachupinos."
But Valentine shook his head mournfully.
"It is true," he remarked, "we could do so. But why shed blood needlessly? No; let my brother put confidence in me."
"The hunter will act rightly. Unicorn knows it, and he leaves him free; but Unicorn is a chief, he cannot put on the clothes of the palefaces."
Valentine no longer insisted, as it would have been unavailing; so he agreed to modify his plan. He made each of his comrades put on a dragoon uniform, and himself donned the clothes stripped from the Alferez. When all this metamorphosis was as complete as possible, he turned to Unicorn.
"The chief will remain here," he said, "to guard the prisoners."
"Good," the Comanche answered. "Is Unicorn, then, a chattering old woman, that warriors place him on one side?"
"My brother does not understand me. I do not wish to insult him, but he cannot enter the camp with us."
The chief shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.
"The Comanche warriors can crawl as well as serpents. Unicorn will enter."
"Let my brother come, then, since he wishes it."
"Good; my brother is vexed; a cloud has passed over his face. He is wrong; his friend loves him."
"I know it, chief, I know it. I am not vexed, but my heart is sad to see a warrior thus run the risk of being killed without any necessity."
"Unicorn is a sachem; he must give an example to his young men on the warpath."
Valentine gave a nod of assent.
"Here are the horses of the palefaces," Curumilla said; "my brother will need them."
"That is true," the hunter answered, with a smile; "my brother is a great chief—he thinks of everything."
Everyone mounted, Unicorn alone remaining a-foot. Valentine placed the Alferez by his side.
"Caballero," he said to him, "you will act as our guide to the camp. We do not wish to take the lives of your countrymen; our intention is simply to prevent them following us at present. Pay attention to my words: if you attempt to deceive us, I blow out your brains. You are warned."
The Spaniard bowed, but made no reply. As for the prisoners, they had been so conscientiously tied by Curumilla that there was no chance of their escaping. The little band then set out, Unicorn disappearing among the trees. When they came a short distance from the bivouac, a sentry challenged, "Who goes there?"
"Answer," Valentine whispered the Alferez.
He did so. They passed, and the sentry, suddenly seized by Curumilla, was bound and gagged in the twinkling of an eye, all the other sentinels sharing the same fate. The Mexicans keep up a very bad watch in the field, even in the presence of an enemy; the greater reason, then, for them to neglect all precaution when they fancy themselves in safety. Everybody was asleep, and Valentine and his friends were masters of the camp. The regiment of dragoons had been surprised without striking a blow.
Valentine's comrades dismounted; they knew exactly how to act, and did not deviate from the instructions given by their leader. They proceeded from picket to picket, removing the horses, which were led out of camp. Within twenty minutes all had been carried off. Valentine had anxiously followed the movements of his men. When they had finished, he raised the curtain of the colonel's tent, and found himself face to face with Unicorn, from whose waist-belt hung a reeking scalp. Valentine could not repress a movement of horror.
"What have you done, chief?" he asked, reproachfully.
"Unicorn has killed his enemy," the Comanche replied, peremptorily. "When the leader of the antelopes is killed, his flock disperses; the gachupinos will do the same."
Valentine drew near the colonel. The unhappy man, fearfully mutilated, with his brain laid bare, and his heart pierced by the knife of the implacable Indian, lay stark dead, in a pool of blood, in the middle of the tent. The hunter vented a sigh at this sorry sight.
"Poor devil!" he said, with an air of compassion.
After this short funeral oration, he took away his sabre and epaulettes, left the tent, followed by the Indian chief, and rejoined his comrades. The horses were led to the Comanche camp, after which Valentine and his party wrapped themselves in their blankets, and slept calmly till daybreak. The dragoons were no longer to be feared.