A WAR STRATAGEM.
The two men followed her, and the three began crawling through the tall grass and silently descending the hill. This painful march was necessarily slow, owing to the innumerable precautions the fugitives were obliged to take so as not to be seen or tracked by the scouts the Indians had scattered all around to watch the movements of the white men, and of any relief which might come to them.
White Gazelle walked actively in front of the hunters, looking cautiously around, stopping to listen anxiously to the slightest sound in the bushes; and when her fears were calmed, she went on giving the men she guided a smile of encouragement.
"Sold!" Valentine said, with a laugh all at once, as he rested his rifle on the ground; "Come, come, the little wench is cleverer than I fancied."
The two men were surrounded by a numerous party of Apache Indians. Don Pablo did not utter a word; he only looked at the girl, who continued to smile.
"Bah!" the Frenchman muttered philosophically in an aside; "I shall kill my seven or eight of them, and after that, we shall see."
Completely reassured by this consoling reflection, the hunter at once regained all his clearness of mind, and looked curiously around him. They were in the midst of Black Cat's war party, and that chief now walked up to the hunter.
"My brother is welcome among the Buffalo Apaches," he said, nobly.
"Why jest, chief?" Valentine remarked; "I am your prisoner, do with me what you think proper."
"Black Cat does not jest; the great pale hunter is not his prisoner, but his friend; he has but to command and Black Cat will execute his orders."
"What mean these words?" the Frenchman said, with astonishment; "Are you not here, like all the members of your nation, to seize my friends and myself?"
"Such was my intention, I allow, when I left my village some days back, but my heart has changed since my brother saved my life, and he may have perceived it already. If I have come here it is not to fight, but to save him and his friends; my brother can, therefore, place confidence in my words—my tribe will obey him as myself."
Valentine reflected for a moment, then he said, as he looked searchingly at the chief:
"And what does Black Cat ask in return for the help he offers me?"
"Nothing; the pale hunter is my brother; if we succeed he will do as he pleases."
"Come, come, all is for the best," Valentine said, as he turned to the girl; "I was mistaken, so I will ask you to forgive me."
White Gazelle blushed with delight at these words.
"Then," Valentine continued, addressing the Indian chief, "I can entirely dispose of your young men?"
"Entirely.
"They will be devoted to me?"
"I have said so, as to myself."
"Good!" said the hunter, as his face brightened; "how many warriors have you?"
Black Cat held up ten times the fingers of his opened hands.
"One hundred?" Valentine asked.
"Yes," the chief replied, "and eight more."
"But the other tribes are far more numerous than yours?"
"They form a band of warriors twenty-two times and seven times more numerous than mine."
"Hum! That is a tidy lot, without counting the pirates."
"Wah! There are thrice the number of the fingers of my two hands of the Long-knives of the East."
"I fear," Don Pablo observed, "that we shall be crushed by the number of our enemies."
"Perhaps so," Valentine, who was reflecting, answered; "where is Red Cedar?"
"Red Cedar is with his brothers, the prairie half-breeds; he has joined Stanapat's party."
At this moment the Apache war cry burst forth on the plain, a tremendous discharge was heard, and the hill of the Mad Buffalo seemed begirt by a halo of smoke and flashing lightning. The battle had began. The Indians bravely mounted to the assault. They marched toward the hill, continually discharging their muskets, and firing arrows at their invisible enemies.
At the spot where the chain of hills touches the Gila, fresh parties of Apaches could be seen incessantly arriving. They came up at a gallop, by troops of three to twenty men at a time. Their horses were covered with foam, leading to the presumption that they had made a long journey. The Apaches were in their war paint, covered with all sorts of ornaments and arms, with their bow and quiver on their back, and their musket in their hands. Their heads were crowned with feathers, among them being several magnificent black and white eagle plumes, with the large falling crest. Seated on handsome saddlecloths of panther skin, lined with red, all had the lower part of the body naked, with the exception of a long strip of wolf skin passed over the shoulder. Their shields were ornamented with feathers, and party coloured cloth. These men, thus accoutred, had something grand and majestic about them which affected the imagination and inspired terror.
Many of them at once climbed the heights, lashing their wearied horses, so to arrive sooner at the battlefield, while singing and uttering their war cry.
The contest seemed most obstinate in the neighbourhood of the palisades; the two Mexicans and Curumilla, protected behind their entrenchments, replied to the Apaches with a deadly fire, bravely exciting each other to die weapons in hand. Several corpses already lay on the plain; riderless horses galloped in every direction, and the cries of the wounded were mingled with the yells of defiance of the assailants.
What we have described in so many words, Valentine and Don Pablo perceived in a few seconds, with the infallible glance of men long accustomed to prairie life.
"Come, chief," the hunter said, quickly, "we must rejoin our friends; help us; if not, they are lost."
"Good," Black Cat answered; "the pale hunter will place himself, with his friend, in the midst of my detachment; in a few minutes he will be on the hill. Above all, the pale chief must leave me to act."
"Do so; I trust entirely to you."
Black Cat said a few words in a low voice to the warriors who accompanied him; they at once collected round the two hunters, who entirely disappeared in their midst.
"Oh, oh," Don Pablo said, anxiously, "just look at this, my friend."
Valentine smiled as he took his arm.
"I have read the chief's intention," he said, "he is employing the only way possible. Do not be alarmed, all is for the best."
Black Cat placed himself at the head of his detachment, and gave a signal. A fearful yell burst through the air—the Buffalo tribe had sounded its war cry. The Apaches, carrying the two men with them, rushed furiously toward the hill, and ere Valentine and Don Pablo knew what was happening, they had rejoined their friends, and Black Cat's warriors fled in every direction, as if a fearful panic had seized on them.
Still the fight was not over; Stanapat's Indians rushed like tigers on the palisades, and let themselves be killed without recoiling an inch. The fight, if prolonged, must end fatally to the whites, whose strength was becoming exhausted. Stanapat and Red Cedar understood this, and hence redoubled their efforts to crush the enemy.
Suddenly, at the moment when the Apaches rushed furiously against the whites to attempt a final assault; the war cry of the Coras was heard, mingled with the discharge of firearms. The Apaches were surprised, and hesitated; Red Cedar looked around, and uttered a curse; the war cry of the Comanches rose behind the camp.
"Forward! Forward at all risks!" the squatter howled, as, followed by his sons and some of his men, he rushed by toward the hill.
But the scene had changed as if by enchantment. Black Cat, on seeing the help that had arrived for his friends, effected a junction with Unicorn; the united bands attacked the Apaches on the flank, while Moukapec, at the head of two hundred picked warriors of his nation, rushed on their rear.
The flight began, and soon changed into a rout; Red Cedar, and a small party of pirates collected around him, alone offered any resistance. From assailants they had become assailed, and there must be an end to it, or in a few minutes all would be over, as their retreat would be cut off.
"Hurrah!" Red Cedar shouted, as he waved his rifle over his head like a mace; "Down with the dogs! Take their scalps!"
"Take their scalps!" his companions exclaimed, imitating his movements, and massacring all that opposed their passage.
They had managed to clear a bloody way, and were slowly moving toward the river, when a man boldly threw himself before Red Cedar—it was Moukapec.
"I bring you my scalp, dog of the palefaces!" he shouted, as he dealt a blow at him with his tomahawk.
"Thanks," the bandit answered, as he parried the blow.
Eagle-wing bounded forward like a hyena, and before his enemy could prevent it, buried his knife in his thigh. Red Cedar uttered a yell of rage on feeling himself wounded, and drew his knife with one hand, while with the other he seized the Indian by the throat. The latter felt that he was lost; the blade flashed above his head, and was buried to the hilt in his chest.
"Ah! Ah!" Red Cedar grinned, as he let down his enemy who rolled on the ground, "I fancy our accounts are settled this time."
"Not yet," the Coras said, with a triumphant smile, and with a dying effort he fired his rifle at the squatter.
The latter let go his reins, and fell by the side of the Indian.
"I die avenged," Eagle-wing said, as he writhed in a last convulsion.
"Oh, I am not dead yet," Red Cedar replied, as he rose on one knee and cleft the Indian's skull; "I shall escape, never fear."
Red Cedar's shoulder was broken, still, thanks to the help of his comrades, who did not give ground an inch, he was able to get on his horse again, and Sutter and Nathan fastened him to the saddle.
"Back! Back!" he shouted, "Else we are lost! Each man for himself!"
The pirates obeyed him, and began flying in various directions, closely followed by the Comanches and Coras. Still some managed to reach the virgin forest, where they disappeared, others the river, which they swam, Red Cedar being one of the former. Valentine and his friends, as soon as they saw the issue of the fight, hastened to leave the hill of the Mad Buffalo, and went down into the plain with the intention of capturing Red Cedar; unfortunately they only arrived in time to see him disappear in the distance; still, the unexpected result of the fight had done them an immense service, not only by rescuing them from the false position in which they were, but also by breaking up the league of the Indian tribes, who, startled by the immense losses they had suffered, would doubtless retire and leave the white men to settle their disputes without interfering further in the quarrel.
As for Red Cedar, his band was annihilated or, dispersed, while himself, seriously wounded, was no longer to be feared. The capture of this man, forced to wander like a wild beast over the prairie, only became a question of time. Stanapat had also escaped with a few warriors, no one knowing in what direction he had gone.
The three united parties camped on the battlefield, according to their custom. The Indians first occupied themselves with scalping the corpses of their enemies. Singular to say, the victors had made no prisoners; the fight had been so obstinate, that every man had only thought of killing his enemy, instead of seizing him. Moukapec's body was raised respectfully, and interred on the hill of Mad Buffalo, by the side of the terrible chief who had first chosen the sepulchre. The sun set at the moment when the last duties had been paid to the fallen warrior, and the council fires were lighted. When all had taken their seats, and the calumet had gone the round, Valentine rose.
"Chiefs," he said, "my friends and I thank you for your generous efforts in trying to deliver the prairies of the Far West from the bandit who has so long desolated them; we are not merely pursuing an idle vengeance, but a work of humanity; this villain dishonours the name of man, and the race to which he belongs. At the present moment, of the numerous bandits who accompanied him, few are left him. The band of the malefactors, which was the terror of the prairies, no longer exists; and their chief himself, I feel convinced, will soon fall into our power. Be ready, when necessary, to help us, as you have done today; until then, return to your villages, and believe that, far or near, we shall retain the recollection of the services you have rendered us, and that, in case of need, you can count on us as we have ever done on you."
After uttering these words which the Indians applauded, Valentine sat down again. There was a lengthened silence, employed by the Indians in conscientiously smoking their calumets. Black Cat was the first to break the silence.
"Let my brothers listen," he said; "the words I utter are inspired by the Master of Life; the cloud that obscured my mind has passed away since my Coras and Comanche brothers, those two brave nations, have restored me the place, to which I had a right, at their council fires. Unicorn is a wise chief, his friendship is precious to me. I hope that the Wacondah will never allow between him and me, or between my young men and his, during the next thousand and fifty moons, the slightest misunderstanding which may rupture the friendship existing at this moment."
Unicorn removed his pipe from his lips, bowed to Black Cat with a smile, and answered—
"My brother Black Cat has spoken well; my heart quivered with joy on hearing him. Why should we not be friends? Is not the prairie large enough and wide enough for us? Are not the buffaloes sufficiently numerous? Let my brothers listen: I seek around me in vain the war hatchet; it is buried so deeply, that the sons and the grandsons of our children will never succeed in digging it up."
Other speeches were made by several chiefs, and the best intelligence did not cease to reign between the allies. At daybreak, they separated in the most cordial manner, each returning to his village. Valentine and his party remained alone. White Gazelle was leaning pensively against the trunk of a tree a few paces from them.