NÔ EUSEBIO.
The precautions taken by Eagle Head to conceal his march were good as regarded the whites, whose senses, less kept upon the watch than those of partisans and hunters, and little acquainted with Indian stratagems, are almost incapable of directing their course in these vast solitudes without a compass; but for men like Loyal Heart and Belhumeur they were, in every respect, insufficient.
The two bold partisans did not lose the track for an instant.
Accustomed to the zig-zags and devices of the Indian warriors, they did not allow themselves to be deceived by the sudden turns, the counter marches, the false halts, in a word, by any of the obstacles which the Comanches had planted so freely on their route.
And then, there was one thing of which the Indians had not dreamed, and which revealed as clearly the direction of their march as if they had taken the pains to mark it with stakes.
We have said that the hunters had, close to the ruins of a cabin, found a bloodhound fastened to a tree, and that this bloodhound, when set free, after bestowing a few caresses on Belhumeur, had set off; his nose to the wind, to rejoin his master, who was no other than the old Spaniard—in fact, he did rejoin him.
The traces of the bloodhound, which the Indians never dreamed of effacing, for the very simple reason that they did not observe that he was with them, were to be seen all along, and for hunters so skilful as Loyal Heart and Belhumeur, this was an Ariadne's thread which nothing could break.
The hunters therefore rode tranquilly on with their guns across the saddle and accompanied by their rastreros, in the track of the Comanches, who were far from suspecting that they had such a rearguard.
Every evening Loyal Heart stopped at the precise place where Eagle Head had, on the previous day, established his camp, for such was the diligence of the two men that the Indians only preceded them by a few leagues; the trappers could easily have passed them, if it had been their wish to do so; but, for certain reasons, Loyal Heart confined himself to following them for some time longer.
After having passed the night in a quiet glade, on the banks of a clear rivulet, whose soft murmur had lulled them to sleep, the hunters were preparing to resume their journey, their horses were saddled, they were eating a slice of elk, standing, like people in a hurry to depart, when Loyal Heart, who, during the whole morning had not spoken a word, turned towards his companion, and said:
"Let us sit down a minute, there is no occasion to hurry, since Eagle Head has rejoined his tribe."
"Be it so," replied Belhumeur, laying himself down upon the grass. "We can talk a bit."
"I cannot think how it was I did not imagine these cursed Comanches had a war detachment in the neighbourhood! It is impossible for us two to think of taking a camp in which there are five hundred warriors."
"That's true," said Belhumeur, philosophically; "they are a great many, and yet, you know, my dear friend, that if your heart bids you, we can but try; who knows what may happen?"
"Thanks!" said Loyal Heart, smiling; "but I think it useless."
"As you like."
"Stratagem alone can assist us."
"Let us try stratagem, then; I am at your orders."
"We have some traps near here, I believe?"
"Pardieu!" said the Canadian, "within half a mile, at most, there is a large pond of beavers."
"That's true; for the last few days, Belhumeur, I scarcely know what I am thinking about; this captivity of my mother makes me mad; I must deliver her, cost what it may."
"That is my opinion, Loyal Heart, and I will aid you in it with all my soul."
"Tomorrow morning, at daybreak, you will repair to Black Elk, and beg him, in my name, to collect as many white hunters and trappers as he can."
"Very well."
"In the meantime I will go to the camp of the Comanches, to treat for the ransom of my mother; if they will not restore her to me, we will have recourse to arms, and we will see if a score of the best rifles of the frontiers will not give a good account of five hundred of these plunderers of the prairies."
"And if they should make you prisoner?"
"In that case I will send you my bloodhound, who will come to you in the river grotto; on seeing it come alone, you will know what that means, and will act accordingly."
The Canadian shook his head.
"No," said he, "I shall not do so."
"What! you will not do so?" the hunter exclaimed, in great surprise.
"Certainly no, I will not do so, Loyal Heart. Compared with you, who are so brave and so intelligent, I am but little worth, I know; but if I have only one good quality, nothing can deprive me of it, and that quality is my devotedness to you."
"I know it, my friend; you love me like a brother."
"And you would have me leave you, as they say in my country beyond the great lakes, to go cheerfully into the jaws of the wolf; and yet my comparison is humiliating for the wolf, for the Indians are a thousand times more ferocious! No, I repeat, I will not do that; it would be a wicked action, and if any harm happened to you, I should never forgive myself."
"Explain yourself, Belhumeur," said Loyal Heart, with a little impatience; "upon my honour I cannot possibly understand you."
"Oh! that will be easy enough," the Canadian answered; "if I am not very clever, and am not an able speaker, I have good common sense, and can see my way clearly when those I love are concerned; and I love nobody better than you, now my poor father is dead."
"Speak then, my friend," said Loyal Heart, "and pardon the little ill-humour I could not repress."
Belhumeur reflected for a few seconds, and then continued:—
"You know," he said, "that the greatest enemies we have in the prairies are the Comanches; by an inexplicable fatality, whenever we have had a struggle to maintain, it has been against them, and never have they been able to boast of the smallest advantage over us; hence has arisen between them and us an implacable hatred, a hatred which has latterly been increased by our quarrel with Eagle Head, whose arm you had the good chance, or rather the ill chance, of breaking, when it would have been so easy for you to have broken his head; a joke which I am convinced the chief has taken in very bad part, and will never forgive you. Besides, I must confess that in his place I should entertain exactly the same sentiments; I bear him no malice on that account."
"To the purpose! to the purpose!" Loyal Heart interrupted.
"The purpose! Well, this is it," Belhumeur replied, displaying no surprise at his friend's interruption: "Eagle Head is anxious, by any means, to obtain your scalp, and it is evident that if you commit the imprudence of placing yourself in his hands, he will not let the opportunity slip of finally settling his accounts with you."
"But," Loyal Heart replied, "my mother is in his power."
"Yes," said Belhumeur; "but he does not know who she is. You are aware, my friend, that the Indians only treat captured women ill in exceptional cases; generally they behave to them with the greatest respect."
"That is true," said the hunter.
"Therefore, as no one will go and tell Eagle Head that his prisoner is your mother, unless she does so herself, through the uneasiness she may feel on your account, she is as safe among the redskins as if she were on the great square of Quebec. It is useless, then, to commit an imprudence. Let us get together a score of good fellows; I don't ask for more; and let us watch the Indians. On the first opportunity that offers we will fall upon them vigorously, we will kill as many as we can, and deliver your mother. Now that, I think, is the wisest course we can take; what do you think of it?"
"I think, my friend," Loyal Heart replied, pressing his hand, "that you are the best creature in existence; that your advice is good, and I will follow it."
"Bravo!" Belhumeur exclaimed, joyfully; "that is speaking something like."
"And now——" said Loyal Heart, rising.
"Now?" Belhumeur asked.
"We will get on horseback; we will carefully avoid the Indian camp, using all possible caution not to be tracked; and will then go to the hatto of our brave companion Black Elk, who is a man of good counsel, and who will certainly be useful to us in what we purpose doing."
"Be it so, then," said Belhumeur cheerfully, leaping into his saddle.
The hunters quitted the glade they had slept in, and making a détour to avoid the Indian camp, the smoke of which they perceived within a league of them, they directed their course towards the spot where, in all probability, Black Elk was philosophically employed in laying snares for beavers, the interesting animals that Doña Luz had admired so much.
They had been thus riding on for nearly an hour, chatting and laughing, for the reasonings of Belhumeur had succeeded in convincing Loyal Heart, who, thoroughly knowing the manners of the Indians, was persuaded that his mother was in no danger, when his hounds on a sudden showed signs of excitement, and rushed forward, yelping with symptoms of joy.
"What's the matter with our rastreros?" said Loyal Heart; "one would think they smelt a friend."
"Pardieu! they have scented Black Elk, and we shall probably see them come back together."
"That is not unlikely," the hunter said pensively; and they continued their course.
At the expiration of a few minutes they perceived a horseman riding towards them at full speed, surrounded by the dogs, who ran barking by his side.
"It is not Black Elk," Belhumeur cried.
"No," said Loyal Heart, "it is Nô Eusebio; what can this mean? He is alone; can anything have happened to my mother?"
"Let us mend our pace," said Belhumeur, clapping spurs to his horse, which sprang forward with the greatest velocity.
The hunter followed him, a prey to mortal alarm.
The three horsemen were soon together.
"Woe! woe!" the old man cried, in great agitation, as he approached.
"What is the matter, Nô Eusebio? speak, in the name of Heaven."
"Your mother, Don Rafaël! your mother!"
"Well, speak!—oh, speak!" the young man cried frantically.
"Oh, my God!" said the old man, wringing his hands, "it is too late!"
"Speak, then, in the name of Heaven!—you are killing me."
The old man cast on him a look of utter desolation.
"Don Rafaël," he said, "have courage!—be a man!"
"My God! my God! what fearful news are you going to communicate to me, my friend?"
"Your mother is a prisoner to Eagle Head."
"I know she is."
"If this very day, this morning even, you do not deliver yourself up to the chief of the Comanches—"
"Well, well!"
"She will be burnt alive."
"Ah!" the young man exclaimed, with a cry amounting to a shriek.
His friend supported him, otherwise he would have fallen from his saddle.
"But," Belhumeur asked, "is it today—do you say, old man, that she is to be burnt?"
"Yes."
"Is there still time, then?"
"Alas! it was to be at sunrise; and see," he said, with an agonized gesture, pointing to the heavens.
"Oh!" Loyal Heart cried, with a vehemence impossible to be described, "I will save my mother!"
And, bending over the neck of his horse, he set off with frantic rapidity.
The others followed.
He turned round towards Belhumeur.
"Where are you going?" he asked, in a short, sharp tone.
"To help you save your mother, or to die with you."
"Come on, then!" Loyal Heart replied, plunging his spurs into the bleeding sides of his horse.
There was something fearful and terrible in the desperate course of these three men who, formed in line, with pale brows, compressed lips, and fiery looks, cleared torrents and ravines, surmounted all obstacles, incessantly urging their horses, which seemed to devour space, while panting painfully, bounding madly, and dripping with perspiration and blood.
At intervals Loyal Heart shouted one of those cries peculiar to the Mexican jinetes, and the reanimated horses redoubled their exertions.
"My God! my God! save—save my mother!" the hunter kept repeating in a hollow voice, as he rode furiously onward.