DEVOTEDNESS.
As we said in a preceding chapter, the doctor had left the camp of the Mexicans, charged by Doña Luz with a message for Black Elk.
Like all learned men, the doctor was absent by nature, and that with the best intentions in the world.
During the first moments, according to the custom of his brethren, he puzzled his brain to endeavour to make out the signification of the words, somewhat cabalistical in his opinion, that he was to repeat to the trapper.
He could not comprehend what assistance his friends could possibly obtain from a half-wild man, who lived alone in the prairie, and whose existence was passed in hunting and trapping.
If he had accepted this mission so promptly, the profound friendship he professed for the niece of the general was the sole cause: although he expected no advantageous result from it, as we have said, he had set out resolutely, convinced that the certainty of his departure would calm the uneasiness of the young lady. In short, he had rather meant to satisfy the caprice of a patient, than undertake a serious affair.
In the persuasion, therefore, that the mission with which he was charged was a useless one, instead of going full speed, as he ought to have done, to the toldo of Black Elk, he dismounted, passed his arm through his bridle, and began to look for simples, an occupation which, ere long, so completely absorbed him, that he entirely forgot the instructions of Doña Luz, and the reason why he had left the camp.
In the meanwhile, time passed slowly because anxiously; half the day was gone, and the doctor, who ought long before to have returned, did not appear.
The uneasiness became great in the camp, where the general and the captain had organized everything for a vigorous defence in case of attack.
But nothing appeared.
The greatest calm continued to prevail in the environs; the Mexicans were not far from thinking it a false alarm.
Doña Luz alone felt her inquietude increase every instant; with her eyes fixed upon the plain, she looked in vain in the direction her expected messengers should arrive by.
All at once, it struck her that the high grass of the prairie had an oscillating motion which was not natural to it.
There was not a breath in the air; a heavy, stifling heat weighed down all nature; the leaves of the trees, scorched by the sun, were motionless; the high grass alone, agitated by a slow and mysterious movement, continued to oscillate.
And, what was most extraordinary, this almost imperceptible motion, which required close attention to be observed, was not general; on the contrary, it was successive, approaching the camp by degrees, with a regularity which gave reason for supposing an organized impulsion; so that, in proportion as it was communicated to the nearest grass, the most distant returned by degrees to a state of complete immobility, from which it did not change.
The sentinels placed in the intrenchments could not tell to what to attribute this movement, of which they understood nothing.
The general, as an experienced soldier, resolved to know what it meant; although he had never personally had to do with the Indians, he had heard too much of their manner of fighting not to suspect some stratagem.
Not wishing to weaken the camp, which stood in need of all its defenders, he resolved himself to undertake the adventure, and go out on the scout.
At the instant he was about to climb over the intrenchments, the captain stopped him, by placing his hand respectfully on his shoulders.
"What do you want with, me, my friend?" the general asked, turning round.
"I wish, with your permission, to put a question to you, general."
"Do so."
"You are leaving the camp?"
"I am."
"To go in search of intelligence, no doubt?"
"I admit that is my intention."
"Then, general, it is to me that mission belongs."
"Ay! how is that?" said the astonished general.
"Good God! general, that is very plain; I am but a poor devil of an officer, and owe everything to you."
"What then?"
"The peril I shall run, if peril there be, will not in any way compromise the success of the expedition; whereas——"
"If you are killed."
The general started.
"Everything must be foreseen and provided for," continued the captain, "when we have before us such adversaries as those that threaten us."
"That is true. What then?"
"Well, the expedition will fail, and not one of us will ever see a civilized country again. You are the head; we are but the arms; remain, therefore, in the camp."
The general reflected for a few seconds; then pressing the hand of the young man cordially, he said,—
"Thank you, but I must see for myself what is being plotted against us. The circumstance is too serious to allow me to trust even to you."
"You must remain in the camp, general," persisted the captain, "if not for our sake, at least for that of your niece, that innocent and delicate creature, who, if any misfortune should happen to you, would find herself alone, abandoned amidst ferocious tribes, without support, and without a protector. Of what consequence is my life to me, a poor lad without a family, who owes everything to your kindness? The hour is come to prove my gratitude—let me discharge my debt."
"But——" the general tried to speak.
"You know," the young man continued, warmly, "if I could take your place with Doña Luz, I would do it with joy; but I am as yet too young to play that noble part. Come, general, let me go instead of you, it is my duty to do so."
Half by persuasion, half by force he succeeded in drawing the old soldier back; he sprang upon the intrenchments, leaped down on the other side, and set off at full speed, after making a last sign of farewell.
The general looked after him as long as he could perceive him; then he passed his hand across his careful brow, murmuring,—
"Brave boy! excellent nature!"
"Is he not, uncle?" Doña Luz replied, who had approached and listened without being seen.
"Ah! were you there, dear child?" he said, with a smile, which he endeavoured in vain to render cheerful.
"Yes, dear uncle, I have heard all."
"That is well, dear little one," the general said, with an effort; "but this is not the time to give way to feeling. I must think of your safety. Do not remain here longer; come with me; an Indian bullet might easily reach you here."
Taking her by the hand, he led her affectionately to the tent.
After leading her in, he gave her a kiss upon her brow, advised her not to go out again, and returned to the intrenchments, where he set himself to watch with the greatest care what was going on in the plain; calculating the while, mentally, the time that had passed since the departure of the doctor, and feeling astonished at not seeing him return.
"He must have fallen in with the Indians," he said; "I only hope they have not killed him."
Captain Aguilar was an intrepid soldier, trained in the incessant wars of Mexico; he knew how to unite prudence with courage.
When he arrived at a certain distance from the camp, he laid himself on the ground, face downwards, and reached, by creeping along thus, a rough piece of rock, admirably situated for concealment and observation.
Everything appeared quiet around him; nothing denoted the approach of an enemy. After spending a sufficient time in keenly exploring with his eyes the country beyond him, he was preparing to return to the camp, with a conviction that the general was deceived, and no imminent peril existed, when suddenly, within ten paces of him, an asshata bounded up in great terror, with ears erect and head thrown back, and fled away with extreme velocity.
"Oh! oh!" the young man said to himself, "there is something here, though. Let us try if we cannot make out what."
Quitting the rock behind which he had been screened, he, with great precaution, advanced a few steps, in order to satisfy his suspicions.
The grass became powerfully agitated, half a score men arose suddenly from various points, and surrounded him before he had time to put himself on the defensive, or regain the shelter he had imprudently quitted.
"Well," he said, with disdainful coolness, "luckily I know now with whom I have to deal."
"Surrender!" one of the men nearest to him shouted.
"No, thank you," he replied, with an ironical smile. "You are fools if you expect that. You must kill me out and out before you take me."
"Then we will kill you, my dainty spark," the first speaker answered, brutally.
"I reckon upon that," said the captain, in a jeering tone; "but I mean to defend myself; that will make a noise, my friends will hear us, your surprise will be a failure, and that is exactly what I wish."
These words were pronounced with a coolness that made the pirates pause. These men belonged to the band of Captain Waktehno, who was himself among them.
"Yes," retorted the captain of the bandits, "your idea is not a bad one, only you forget that we can kill you without making a noise; and so your clever plan will come to nothing."
"Bah! who knows?" said the young man, and before the pirates could prevent him, he made an extraordinary spring backwards, by which he overset two men, and ran with his best speed in the direction of the camp.
The first surprise over, the bandits darted forward in pursuit of him.
This trial of speed lasted a considerable time without the pirates being able to perceive that they gained ground on the fugitive. Though not relaxing in the pursuit, as they tried as much as possible to avoid being seen by the Mexican sentinels, whom they hoped to surprise, they were obliged to make turnings which necessarily impeded their course.
The captain had arrived within hearing of his friends, and he cast a glance behind him. Profiting by a moment in which he had paused to take breath, the bandits had gained upon him considerably, and the young man became aware that if he continued to fly, he should cause the misfortune he wished to avoid.
His determination was formed in an instant; he was satisfied he must die, but he wished to die as a soldier, and make his fall useful to those for whom he devoted himself.
He placed his back against a tree, laid his machete within reach, drew his pistols from his belt, and facing the bandits, who were not more than thirty paces from him, he cried in a loud voice, in order to attract the attention of his friends:—
"To arms! to arms! Be on your guard! The enemies are here!"
Then, with the greatest coolness, he discharged his weapons as if at a target—he had four double-barrelled pistols—repeating as every pirate fell, as loud as he could shout,—
"To arms! the enemies are here! they will surround you! Be on your guard! Be on your guard!"
The bandits, exasperated by this brave defence, rushed upon him with great rage, forgetting all the precautions they had till that time taken.
Then commenced a horrible but an almost superhuman struggle of one man against twenty or thirty; for it seemed, as every pirate fell, that another took his place.
The conflict was fearful! The young man had determined to make the sacrifice of his life, but he was equally resolved to sell it dearly.
We have said that at every shot he fired he had uttered a warning cry; his pistols being discharged, at every stroke of his machete that he dealt he did the same, to which the Mexicans replied by keeping up, on their part, a rolling fire of musketry upon the pirates, who showed themselves openly, blindly bent upon the destruction of a man who so audaciously barred their passage with the impenetrable barrier of his loyal breast.
At length the captain was brought down on one knee. The pirates rushed upon him, pell-mell, wounding each other in their frantic efforts to destroy him.
Such a combat could not last long.
Captain Aguilar fell, but in falling he drew with him a dozen pirates he had immolated, and who formed a bloody escort on his passage to the tomb.
"Hum!" muttered Captain Waktehno, surveying him with admiration, whilst staunching the blood of a large wound he had received in the breast; "a roughish sort of fellow! If the others are like him, we shall have more than our work to do. Come!" he continued turning towards his companions, who awaited his orders, "do not let us stand here any longer to be shot at like pigeons. To the assault, in God's name!—to the assault!"
The pirates rushed after him, brandishing their arms, and began to climb the rock, vociferating, "To the assault! to the assault!"
On their side, the Mexicans, witnesses of the heroic death of Captain Aguilar, prepared to avenge him.