CHAPTER V.
THE CARIB'S PLEDGE.
The next day Hernando mounted his charger, and went forth to the forest. Guarcia's flower had withered, though he had kept its stem in crystal water all night. He was impatient to hear her voice again, athirst for the sweet words that told him of her love. As he galloped through the forest, followed by the hounds that had learned to crouch at Guarcia's feet and play lovingly with her fawns, a figure stepped suddenly across his path and seized his horse by the bit. The horse, restive at feeling a strange hand near his head, made an attempt to rear, but the Carib savage drew him back to the earth with a wrench of his strong arm, and, before Hernando could speak, was looking him gravely in his face.
"Come with me, stranger, there is a black cloud over this path."
"I am used to danger, chief, as some of your tribe may know," said Hernando, smiling, as he touched the hilt of his sword.
"Vipers are not killed with weapons like that," answered the chief; "it is with them you have to deal."
"Well, what of them? I prefer an open foe, like the warriors of your tribe. You are an enemy to our people, but now and straightforward what other assailant need I fear?"
"We are foes to the Spaniard, but not to you. Come, and I will show you the snares which white men lay for each other."
"But what if this were itself a snare?"
The Indian drew a knife from his belt, and seizing Hernando's hand in his iron grasp, pierced a vein with the point. Applying his lips to the cut, he drew a mouthful of blood and swallowed it. Then dashing one clenched hand against his broad chest, he exclaimed, with vehemence:
"The blood of my pale brother flows here. What Carib ever betrayed his own blood?"
Hernando knew that this was a sacred pledge, and turning to the Indian, with a smile, bade him lead on.
The Indian did not smile, but his eyes broke into a blaze of delight, and, with a gesture, he plunged into the forest.
Some four or five miles from the place of the encounter lay a stretch of swampy land, dark and dismal as stagnant water and the slimy growth of swamp vegetation could render it. Many a rough passage and deep gully lay between the broad savannas and this dreary spot; but the savage passed them without halting, and Hernando followed, though his good steed grew restive with the broken path. At last they came out on a precipice which it was impossible that the horse could descend.
"Leave your beast here—he will be safe," said the Indian pointing to a footpath which wound like a black serpent down the precipice.
Hernando dismounted, tied his horse to a sapling, and prepared to follow his guide on foot. With a step as firm and more rapid than a wild goat's, the savage took to the path. Hernando followed. With a fearless and steady step, they wound their way still on the edge of the precipice, till the moon had risen, and flung her luxuriant gilding upon every object. They now walked more rapidly, and soon took a southern course, and began to descend. Hernando now understood where he was going. The continual and monotonous cries of the frogs, and the tall trees with their long festoons of Spanish moss—which hung over the alluvial bottom, like the curtains of a funeral pall—indicated sufficiently that they were approximating, or had already reached the Cypress Swamp. Many a slimy toad hopped croaking out of their way, as they advanced in the swamps, and the angry scream of some huge "swamp owl," as it flapped its broad wings, and malignantly snapped its bill at them, gave him a hint that it was time to tread warily in the tracks of his guide, or he might suddenly be precipitated headlong into the mud and slime, for they were approaching the interior of the swamp.
After walking for some time, till even the Indian, whose knowledge of that country was unlimited, was constrained to step with extreme caution, for fear of sinking into the deceptive mud, they stopped. The scene around bore a terrifying appearance—not one step further could they advance, without being overwhelmed in mud and water. As far as the eye could see, by the imperfect light which penetrated that dismal spot, was but one sickening sight of the green mud and water, where no human foot could tread without sinking ten feet or more, to find death at the bottom.
"Look upon that spot," said the savage, pointing with his finger to a pool of stagnant water; it had the appearance of being deep, and a large green frog sat on a broken stump that floated there, with his gray eyes fixed upon them, and with his hind legs drawn under him, as if preparing to leap into their faces. Hernando turned his eyes away from this loathsome sight. "That spot," continued the savage, still pointing toward it—"that spot was to have been my white brother's grave."
"What!" exclaimed Hernando, recoiling; "what you say can not be true—who could make that spot my grave? Is this a time for trifling with me, chief?"
"It is not, my white brother! I did not bring you here to play with your feelings, but to save your life; you look at me,—you would inquire what interest I have in saving your life. Listen: It was a great many summers ago, when a Carib chief went out to shoot deer; he walked all day—no deer—he sat on a log, tired and hungry; while he sat there, weak and tired, almost asleep, a crouching panther sprang upon him and bore him to the earth; the Carib fought hard, for he was fighting for his life, but he was weak and hungry, and the panther seized him and was bearing him off, when a white man, who heard the noise, came running to the spot. He, drawing his knife like a true warrior, jumped upon the enraged animal's back, and stabbed him to the heart. The Indian was saved. The white man had a warrior's heart—he took from his wallet some provisions, which he gave to his starving brother, and bade him eat, then he walked off. The Carib's heart swelled, and when the pale man had disappeared, he fell upon one knee, and called the Great Spirit to witness, and he swore an oath; he swore in the presence of that mighty Spirit to protect all in whom that pale man's blood flowed."
"That man was my father," interrupted Hernando; "I have heard him tell that story many times; and what became of the Carib?"
"He stands before you! Now will my pale brother suspect me of playing with his feelings? But stay. The Carib became a great chief in his nation, and sat in the councils of Caonabo. He still hunted in these woods, and as he hunted three suns ago, sounds came to his ears, more terrific than the swamp owl's, for it was not the sound of defiance, but of cowardly murder. Two men advanced; your brother, who did not wish to be seen, stepped behind a tree. It was a big Captain of the fort, and a man whom I have seen taking care of the horses at the fort—a slim-faced Spaniard, with eyes like a snake's; their looks were black, and they talked of murder; your brother understood, for he had learned their language in trading with them; they struck upon the track that we have just passed—what would they in this track, for no game can live here? Your brother followed them cautiously, and the slim one cursed my white brother, because he loved a daughter of the Spaniard whose mother was a Carib princess, and he swore he should be killed, and hid from his comrades in the black heart of the cypress swamp. I left them, and hunted you—here we are!"
Hernando was thunderstruck at what he heard; a feeling of horror pervaded his frame, as he looked around on that dismal spot. The tall trees above them bore no other verdure than the rank Spanish moss, which swept the swamp far and wide, and the dark green water, with its thousand loathsome reptiles, was horrible to look upon.
"My brother must keep a sharp eye about him—he must play the fox, and if the Spaniards are too strong, send this belt to Orazimbo, and he will find your brother, who will come to your help though he must bring as many warriors as there are leaves on the trees."
Hernando took the belt, which glittered richly even in that murky light; for it was a girdle of virgin gold, flexible, from its own purity, with a rivulet of burning opal stones, rough emeralds, and rude gems running through it like a rainbow.
Ready August 15th.
Beadle's Dime Novels, No. 5.—"The Golden Belt; or, The Carib's Pledge," Complete.
[Transcriber's Notes:]
The text of this electronic book is derived from the original American edition. The source copy was missing its cover, so the cover image used here comes from a later British reprint.
Added table of contents.
Frontispiece may be clicked to view a larger version.
Retained some unusual (presumed archaic) spellings (e.g. "musquitoes").
Page 10, added missing quote after "no older."
Page 13, added missing quote after "new clo'es."
Page 15, changed "a a watchin'" to "a watchin'" and added missing period after "right away."
Page 32, the line "The sun went down in a clear sky; there were no clouds to" appeared several lines above its intended position; it has been moved down.
Page 51, changed "your love-cracked" to "you're love-cracked."
Page 54, added missing period after "her fears."
Page 63, changed "of of thrashing" to "of thrashing."
Page 65, changed "somethimg" to "something."
Page 88, added missing period after "dis worl'."
Page 91, removed extra quote after "sure 'nuff."
Page 96, changed period to question mark in "May I pray for you, Ben?"
Page 104, changed comma to period after "groomsman with Virginia." Added missing period after "rag-carpeting."
Page 105, changed period to question mark after "upon my trips?"
Page 113, changed comma to period after "in de wood."
Page 124, changed "begining" to "beginning."