THE LAW OF THE PRAIRIES.
A considerable space of ground, situated in front of the grotto inhabited by Loyal Heart, had been cleared, the trees cut down, and from a hundred and fifty to two hundred huts erected.
The whole tribe of the Comanches was encamped on this spot.
Among trappers, hunters, and redskin warriors there existed the best possible understanding.
In the centre of this temporary village, where the huts of buffalo hides painted of different colours were arranged with a degree of symmetry, one much larger than the others, surmounted by scalps fixed to long poles, and in which a large fire was continually kept up, served as the council lodge.
The greatest bustle prevailed in the village.
The Indian warriors were armed and in their war paint, as if preparing to march to battle.
The hunters had dressed themselves in their best costumes, and cleaned their arms with the greatest care, as if expecting soon to make use of them.
The horses completely caparisoned, stood hobbled, and held by half a score warriors, ready to be mounted.
Hunters and redskins were coming and going in a busy, preoccupied manner.
A rare and almost unknown thing among Indians, sentinels were placed at regular distances to signal the approach of a stranger, whoever he might be.
In short, everything denoted that one of the ceremonies peculiar to the prairies was about to take place. But, strange to say, Loyal Heart, Eagle Head, and Black Elk were absent.
Belhumeur alone watched over the preparations that were being made, talking, the while, to the old Comanche chief Eshis, or the Sun.
But their countenances were stern, their brows thoughtful, they appeared a prey to an overpowering preoccupation.
It was the day fixed upon by the captain of the pirates for Doña Luz to be delivered up to him.
Would the captain venture to come? or was his proposition anything more than a rodomontade?
Those who knew the pirate, and their number was great—almost all having suffered by his depredations—inclined to the affirmative.
This man was endowed, and it was the only quality they acknowledged in him, with a ferocious courage and an iron will.
If once he had affirmed he would do a thing, he did it, without regard to anybody or any danger.
And then, what had he to dread in coming a second time amongst his enemies? Did he not hold the general in his power? the general, whose life answered for his own; all knew that he would not hesitate to sacrifice him to his safety.
It was about eight o'clock in the morning, a brilliant sun shed its dazzling rays in profusion upon the picture we have endeavoured to describe.
Doña Luz left the grotto, leaning upon the arm of the mother of Loyal Heart, and followed by Nô Eusebio.
The two women were sad and pale, their faces looked worn, and their red eyes showed they had been weeping.
As soon as Belhumeur perceived them, he advanced towards them, bowing respectfully.
"Has not my son returned yet?" the old lady asked, anxiously.
"Not yet," the hunter replied, "but keep up your spirits, señora, it will not be long before he is here."
"Good God! I do not know why, but it seems as if he must be detained at a distance from us by some untoward event."
"No, señora, I should know if he were so. When I left him last night, for the purpose of tranquillizing you, and executing the orders he gave me, he was in an excellent situation; therefore, believe me, be reassured, and, above all, have confidence."
"Alas!" the poor woman murmured, "I have lived for twenty years in continual agony, every night dreading not to see my son on the morrow; my God! will you not then have pity on me!"
"Have comfort, dear señora," said Doña Luz, affectionately, and with a gentle kiss: "Oh! I know that if Loyal Heart at this moment be in danger, it is to save my poor uncle; my God!" she added, fervently, "grant that he may succeed!"
"All will soon be cleared up, ladies, be assured by me, and you know I would not deceive you."
"Yes," said the old lady, "you are good, you love my son, and you would not be here if he had anything to dread."
"You judge me rightly, señora, and I thank you for it. I cannot, at the present moment, tell you anything, but I implore you to have a little patience; let it suffice for you to know that he is labouring to render the señorita happy."
"Oh! yes," said the mother, "always good, always devoted!"
"And therefore was he named Loyal Heart," the maiden murmured, with a blush.
"And never was name better merited," the hunter exclaimed proudly. "A man must have lived a long time with him, and know him as well as I know him, in order to appreciate him properly."
"Thanks, in my turn, for all you say of my son, Belhumeur," the old lady replied, pressing the callous hand of the hunter.
"I speak nothing but the truth, señora; I am only just, that is all. Oh! things would go on well in the prairies if all hunters were like him."
"Good heavens! time passes, will he never come?" she murmured, looking around with feverish impatience.
"Very soon, señora."
"I wish to be the first to see him and salute him on his arrival!"
"Unfortunately that is impossible."
"Why so?"
"Your son charged me to beg you, as well as Señora Luz, to retire into the grotto; he is anxious that you should not be present at the scene that is about to take place here."
"But," said Doña Luz, anxiously, "how shall I know if my uncle be saved or not?"
"Be assured, señorita, that you shall not remain in uncertainty long. But I beg you not to remain here. Go in, go in."
"Perhaps it will be best to do so," the old lady observed. "Let us be obedient, darling," she added, smiling on the girl; "let us go in, since my son requires it."
Doña Luz followed her without resistance, but casting furtive looks behind her, to try if she could catch a glimpse of him she loved.
"How happy are those who have mothers!" murmured Belhumeur, stifling a sigh, and looking after the two women, who disappeared in the shade of the grotto.
All at once the Indian sentinels uttered a cry, which was immediately repeated by a man placed in front of the council lodge.
At this signal the Comanche chiefs arose and left the hut in which they were assembled.
The hunters and Indian warriors seized their arms, ranged themselves on either side of the grotto, and waited.
A cloud of dust rolled towards the camp with great rapidity, but was soon dispersed, and revealed a troop of horsemen riding at full speed. These horsemen, for the most part, wore the costume of Mexican gambusinos.
At their head, upon a magnificent horse, black as night, came a man whom all immediately recognized.
This was Captain Waktehno, who came audaciously at the head of his troop, to claim the fulfilment of the odious bargain he had imposed three days before.
Generally, in the prairies, when two troops meet, or when warriors or hunters visit a village, it is the custom to execute a sort of fantasia, by rushing full speed towards each other, yelling and firing off guns.
On this occasion, however, nothing of the kind took place.
The Comanches and the hunters remained motionless and silent, awaiting the arrival of the pirates.
This cold, stern reception did not astonish the captain; though his eyebrows were a little contracted, he feigned not to perceive it, and entered the village intrepidly at the head of his band.
When he arrived in front of the chiefs drawn up before the council lodge, the twenty horsemen stopped suddenly, as if they had been changed into statues of bronze.
This bold manoeuvre was executed with such dexterity that the hunters, good judges of horsemanship, with difficulty repressed a cry of admiration.
Scarcely had the pirates halted, ere the ranks of the warriors placed on the right and left of the lodge deployed like a fan, and closed behind them.
The twenty pirates found themselves by this movement, which was executed with incredible quickness, enclosed within a circle formed of more than five hundred men, well armed and equally well mounted.
The captain felt a slight tremor of uneasiness at the sight of this manoeuvre, and he almost repented having come. But surmounting this involuntary emotion, he smiled disdainfully; he believed he was certain he had nothing to fear.
He bowed slightly to the chiefs ranged before him, and addressed Belhumeur in a firm voice,—
"Where is the girl?" he demanded.
"I do not know what you mean," the hunter replied, in a bantering tone; "I do not believe that there is any young lady here upon whom you have any claim whatever."
"What does this mean? and what is going on here?" the captain muttered, casting around a look of defiance. "Has Loyal Heart forgotten the visit I paid him three days ago?"
"Loyal Heart never forgets anything," said Belhumeur, in a firm tone; "but the question is not of him now. How can you have the audacity to present yourself among us at the head of a set of brigands?"
"Well," said the captain jeeringly, "I see you want to answer me by an evasion. As to the menace contained in the latter part of your sentence, it is worth very little notice."
"You are wrong; for since you have committed the imprudence of throwing yourself into our hands, we shall not be simple enough, I warn you, to allow you to escape."
"Oh, oh!" said the pirate; "what game are we playing now?"
"You will soon learn."
"I can wait," the pirate replied, casting around a provoking glance.
"In these deserts, where all human laws are silent," the hunter replied, in a loud clear voice, "the law of God ought to reign in full vigour. This law says, 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.'"
"What follows?" said the pirate, in a dry tone.
"During ten years," Belhumeur continued impassively, "at the head of a troop of bandits, without faith and without law, you have been the terror of the prairies, pillaging and assassinating white men and red men; for you are of no country, plunder and rapine being your only rule; trappers, hunters, gambusinos, or Indians, you have respected no one, if murder could procure you a piece of gold. Not many days ago you took by assault the camp of peaceful Mexican travellers, and massacred them without pity. This career of crime must have an end, and that end has now come. We have Indians and hunters assembled here to try you, and apply to you the implacable law of the prairies."
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth," the assembled Indians and hunters cried, brandishing their arms.
"You deceive yourselves greatly, my masters," the pirate answered, with assurance, "If you believe I shall hold my throat out peaceably to the knife, like a calf that is being led to the shambles. I suspected what would happen, and that is why I am so well accompanied. I have with me twenty resolute men, who well know how to defend themselves. You have not got us yet."
"Look around you, and see what is left for you to do."
The pirate cast a look behind him, and saw five hundred guns levelled at his band.
A shudder passed through his limbs, a mortal pallor covered his face, the pirate understood that he was confronted by a terrible danger; but after a second of reflection, he recovered all his coolness, and addressing the hunter, he replied in a jeering voice:—
"What is the use of all these menaces, which do not frighten me? You know very well that I am screened from all your violence. You have told me that I attacked some Mexican travellers a few days ago, but you are not ignorant that the most important of those travellers has fallen into my power. Dare but to touch a single hair of my head, and the general, the uncle of the girl you would in vain ravish from my power, will immediately pay with his life for the insult you offer me. Believe me, then, my masters, you had better cease endeavouring to terrify me; give up to me with a good grace her whom I come to demand, or I swear to you, by God, that within an hour the general will be a dead man."
All at once a man broke through the crowd, and placing himself in front of the pirate, said—
"You are mistaken, the general is free!"
That man was Loyal Heart.
A hum of joy resounded from the ranks of the hunters and Indians, whilst a shudder of terror agitated the pirates.