THE TWO HUNTERS.
Harry and Dick, whom we saw seated at a table in the mesón with Red Cedar and Fray Ambrosio, were however, very far from resembling those two men morally. They were free and bold hunters, who had spent the greater part of their life in the desert, and who, in the vast solitude of the prairie, had accustomed themselves to a life free and exempt from those vices which accompany a town residence.
For them gold was only the means to procure the necessary objects for their trade as hunters and trappers; and they never imagined that the possession of a large quantity of that yellow metal they despised would place them in a position to enjoy other pleasures than those they found in their long hunts of wild beasts—hunts so full of strange incidents and striking joys.
Thus Dick had been to the highest degree surprised when he saw his friend eagerly accept the monk's offer, and agree to go in search of the placer; but what even more surprised him was Harry's insisting that Red Cedar must take the lead of the expedition. Though no one could positively accuse the squatter, owing to the precautions he took, of leading a life of rapine and murder, still the mysterious conduct he affected, and the solitude in which he lived with his family, had cast on him a shadow of reprobation.
Every one regarded him as a scalp hunter, and yet no one would have ventured to affirm the odious deeds of which he was accused. The result of the general reprobation that fell on the squatter, and which we know to be fully merited, was that he and his family were placed under a ban by the frontier hunters and trappers, and every one fled not only their society, but any contact with them. Dick was thoroughly acquainted with his friend's upright character and nobility of heart. Hence his conduct under the present circumstances seemed to him perfectly incomprehensible, and he resolved to have an explanation with him.
They had scarce quitted the mesón ere Dick bent down to his companion, and said, while looking at him curiously,—
"We have been hunting together for five years, Harry, and up to the present I have ever let myself be guided by you, leaving you free to act as you pleased for our mutual welfare. Still this evening your conduct has appeared to me so extraordinary that I am obliged, in the name of our friendship, which has never suffered a break up to this day, to ask you for an explanation of what has occurred in my presence."
"For what good, my boy? Do you not know me well enough to be certain that I would not consent to do any dishonourable deed?"
"Up to this evening I would have sworn it, Harry: yes, on my honor I would have sworn it—"
"And now?" the young man asked, stopping and looking his friend in the face.
"Now," Dick answered, with a certain degree of hesitation, "hang it all! I will be frank with you, Harry, as an honest hunter should ever be. Now I do not know if I should do so: no, indeed I should not."
"What you say there causes me great pain, Dick. You oblige me, in order to dissipate your unjust suspicions, to confide to you a secret which is not my own, and which I would not have revealed for anything in the world."
"Pardon me, Harry, but in my place I am convinced you would act as I am doing. We are very far from our country, which we shall never see again, perhaps. We are responsible for each other, and our actions must be free from all double interpretation."
"I will do what you ask, Dick, whatever it may cost me. I recognise the justice of your observations. I understand how much my conduct this night must have hurt you and appeared ambiguous. I do not wish our friendship to receive the least wound, or the slightest cloud to arise between us. You shall be satisfied."
"I thank you, Harry. What you tell me relieves my bosom of a heavy load. I confess that I should have been in despair to think badly of you; but the words of that intriguing monk, and the manners of that worthy acolyte, Red Cedar, put me in a passion. Had you not warned me so quickly to silence, I believe—Heaven pardon me!—that I should have ended by telling them a piece of my mind."
"You displayed considerable prudence in keeping silence, and be assured you will completely approve me."
"I do not doubt it, Harry; and now I feel certain I deceived myself. I feel all jolly again."
While speaking thus the two hunters, who were walking with that rapid step peculiar to men habituated to traverse great distances on foot, had crossed the village, and found themselves already far in the plain. The night was magnificent—the sky of a deep blue. An infinite number of glistening stars seemed floating in ether. The moon spread its silvery rays profusely over the landscape. The sharp odour of the flowers perfumed the atmosphere. The two hunters still walked on.
"Where are we going now, Harry?" Dick asked. "I fancy we should do better by taking a few hours' rest, instead of fatiguing ourselves without any definite object."
"I never do anything without a reason, friend, as you know," Harry answered; "so let me guide you, and we shall soon arrive."
"Do as you think proper, my boy; I shall say nothing."
"In the first place you must know that the French hunter, Koutonepi, has begged me, for reasons he did not tell me, to watch Fray Ambrosio. That is one of the motives which made me be present at this night's interview, although I care as little for a placer as for a musk-rat's skin."
"Koutonepi is the first hunter on the frontier; he has often done us a service in the desert. You acted rightly, Harry, in doing what he asked."
"As for the second reason that dictated my conduct, Dick, you shall soon know it."
Half talking, half dreaming, the young men reached Buffalo Valley, and soon entered the forest which served as a lair for the squatter and his family.
"Where the deuce are we going?" Dick could not refrain from saying.
"Silence!" said the other: "We are approaching."
The darkness was profound in the forest: the density of the leafy dome under which they walked completely intercepted the light of the moonbeams. Still the Canadians, long accustomed to a night march, advanced as easily through the chaos of creepers and trees tangled in each other as if they had been in open day. On reaching a certain spot where the trees, growing less closely together, formed a species of clearing, and allowed an uncertain and tremorous light to pass, Harry stopped, and made his comrade a sign to do the same.
"This is the place," he said. "Still, I as the person I have come to see expects me to be alone, and your unexpected presence might cause alarm, hide yourself behind that larch tree: above all, be careful not to stir till I call I you."
"Oh, oh!" the hunter said, with a laugh, "have you perchance led me to a love meeting, Harry?"
"You shall judge," Harry replied laconically. "Hide yourself."
Dick, greatly troubled, did not need the invitation to be repeated: he concealed himself behind the tree his friend had indicated, and which would have sheltered a dozen men behind its enormous stem. So soon as Harry was alone, he raised his fingers to his lips, and at three different intervals imitated the cry of an owl with such perfection that Dick himself was deceived, and mechanically looked up to seek the bird in the tall branches of the tree by which he stood. Almost immediately, a slight noise was audible in the shrubs, and a graceful and white form appeared in the glade. It was Ellen, who rapidly walked toward the young man.
"Oh, it is you, Harry!" she said with joy. "Heaven be blessed, I was afraid you would not come, as it is late."
"It is true, Ellen: pardon me. I made all possible speed, however; and it is not my fault that I did not arrive sooner."
"How good you are, Harry, to take so much trouble for my sake! How can I ever recognise the continual services you do me?"
"Oh! Do not speak about them. It is a happiness for me to do anything agreeable to you."
"Alas!" the maiden murmured, "Heaven is my witness that I feel a deep friendship for you, Harry."
The young man sighed gently.
"I have done what you asked of me," he said suddenly.
"Then it is true my father is thinking about leaving this country to go further still?"
"Yes, Ellen, and into frightful countries, among the ferocious Indians."
The girl gave a start of terror.
"Do you know the reason of his going?" she continued.
"Yes; he is about to look for a gold placer."
"Alas! Who will protect me, who will defend me in future, if we go away?"
"I, Ellen!" the hunter exclaimed impetuously. "Have I not sworn to follow you everywhere?"
"It is true," she said sadly; "but why should you risk your life on the distant journey we are about to undertake? No, Harry, remain here; I cannot consent to your departure. From what I have heard say, the band my father commands will be numerous—it will have scarce anything to fear from the Indians; while, on the other hand, you, compelled to hide yourself, will be exposed alone to terrible danger. No, Harry, I will not permit it."
"Undeceive yourself, Ellen. I shall not be forced to conceal myself; I shall not be alone, for I am a member of your father's band."
"Is it possible, Harry?" she exclaimed, with an expression of joy that made the young man quiver.
"I enrolled myself this very evening."
"Oh!" she said, "Then in that case we can often meet?"
"Whenever you please, Ellen, as I shall be there."
"Oh! Now I am anxious to be away from here, and wish we had already started."
"It will not be long first, set your mind at rest. I am convinced that we shall start within the week."
"Thanks for the good news you bring me, Harry."
"Are your father and mother still unkind to you, Ellen?"
"It is nearly always the same thing; and yet their conduct toward me is strange. It often seems to me incomprehensible, as it is so marked with peculiarities. There are moments in which they seem to love me dearly. My father especially caresses and embraces me, and then all at once, I know not why, repulses me rudely, and looks at me in a way that causes me to shudder."
"That is indeed strange, Ellen."
"Is it not? There is one thing above all I cannot explain."
"Tell it me, Ellen; perhaps I can do so."
"You know that all my family are Protestants?"
"Yes."
"Well, I am a Catholic."
"That is certainly curious."
"I wear around my neck a small golden crucifix. Every time accident makes this trinket glisten before my father and mother they grow furious, threaten to beat me, and order me to hide it at once. Do you understand the meaning of this, Harry?"
"No, I do not, Ellen; but, believe me, leave everything to time; perhaps it will enable us to find the clue to the mystery which we seek in vain at this moment."
"Well, your presence has rendered me happy for a long time, Harry, so now I will retire."
"Already?"
"I must, my friend. Believe me that I am as sad as yourself at this separation; but my father has not yet returned, and may arrive at any moment. If he noticed that I was not asleep, who knows what might happen?"
While saying the last words the girl held out her delicate hand to the hunter, who raised it to his lips passionately. Ellen withdrew it suddenly, and bounding like a startled fawn, darted into the forest, where she soon disappeared, giving the young man a parting word, which caused him to quiver with joy:—
"We shall meet soon."
Harry stood for a long time with his eyes fixed on the spot where the seductive vision had disappeared. At length he uttered a sigh, threw his rifle over his shoulder, and turned as if to depart. Dick was before him. Harry gave a start of surprise, for he had forgotten his friend's presence; but the latter smiled good-humouredly.
"I now comprehend your conduct, Harry," he said to him; "you were right to act as you did. Pardon my unjust suspicions, and count on me everywhere and always."
Harry silently pressed the hand his friend offered him, and they walked back rapidly in the direction of the village. As they emerged from the forest they passed, a man who did not see them. It was Red Cedar. So soon as he had gone a short distance Harry stopped his companion, and pointing to the squatter, whose long black shadow glided through the trees, said, as he laid his hand on his shoulder,—
"That man hides in his heart a horrible secret, which I am ignorant of, but have sworn to discover."