Notwithstanding his evil nature, I was for various reasons strongly attracted towards this man. Chief among these was the fact that he spoke English—not very fluently, it is true, but sufficiently to be able to carry on a conversation without much difficulty. Then, from the time of my first entry into the village he had treated me with uniform kindness; why this was so I know not, but the fact remains that he did so, and it was by his assistance that I was enabled to perfect myself in the Indian language, and also to gain some knowledge of Spanish, which afterwards did me good service. Much of my spare time, when he was not absent with his band, I spent in his company, and in our talks I had gained considerable knowledge of his past history. What I had heard, however, only made me more curious to hear the whole, and one evening I importuned him to give me some account of his past life. After some hesitation he consented, and filling our pipes, we reclined upon a buffalo robe before the entrance to his lodge, while he told me his story.
THE RENEGADE'S HISTORY.
"My real name is Pedro Vargas—carrai! it sounds strange enough in my ears now, for it is many years since I have heard it uttered.
"I was born on the banks of the Del Norte, where my father was a vaquero on the estate on Don Ramon d'Echeverra. I remember but little of my childhood, except that my life was a hard and unhappy one, for I was one of eleven children, and we were miserably poor. When I reached my eighth year, I was considered old enough to assist my father in his daily duties; under his tuition, I was able in a few months to ride like a Camanche, to fling the lazo with unerring aim, and to perform with credit most of the drudgery which fell to my share. In this manner the time passed until I was about eleven years of age, when the events occurred which separated me from home and friends, and indirectly made me what I am—the boldest warrior of the Hietans—"Hissoo-de-cha," the renegade, the terror of the frontier.
"The estate of Don Ramon was situated so far down the river as to be out of the track of the Indian raiding parties, and for a generation the red-skinned warriors had never troubled that region. But in the autumn of the year of which I speak, a large party of Camanches had entered Chihuahua, and penetrating almost to the very center of the province, had there met with a severe reverse, and were compelled to retreat without plunder, scalps or captives. Not daring to return to their village empty-handed, for, as you know, the very squaws would have hooted them, they recrossed the Grande above San Vicente, made a wide detour, and coming down the Pecos, again entered Mexican territory, and made a flying raid upon the river towns.
"From its remoteness from the usual scene of these Indian forays, the inhabitants of this region were resting in fancied security, and had made no preparations to resist such an attack. As a natural consequence, they fell an easy prey to the savage invaders.
"The rancheria of Don Ramon was one of the first attacked, and the proud old Don and his three sons, with most of their rancheros and vaqueros, were surprised and slaughtered. Of my own family, my sister Conchita, a girl of sixteen, and myself, alone escaped death; and we, with many other captives, were hurried off in charge of a small detachment of Camanches. Of the journey to this village I need not tell you, as you have, perhaps, passed through a similar experience.
"On our arrival here, my sister soon became the wife of a chief, and to this circumstance I was indebted for much better treatment than usually falls to the lot of a captive. And here let me tell you that your own escape from torture and death was little less than miraculous. In my long experience with the tribe, I have never known of a similar incident. But Wakometkla is a very singular man, and so greatly is he reverenced by his nation, that he can do many things which Tonsaroyoo himself would hesitate to undertake.
"Carrambo, but this story-telling is dry work. See if there be not a flask of mezcal within the lodge. Caval—you have found it? So—that is better;" and my strange companion, having swallowed a copious draft of the fiery liquid, resumed his narrative:
"The first two years of my captivity were comparatively without incident, but at the beginning of the third year I was formally adopted into the tribe. As you yourself have gone through the ceremony, it is unnecessary to describe it, but as the circumstances in my case were somewhat different from yours, I found myself on an equality with such of the young braves as had never been on the war-path.