| I. | [THE CHAPARRAL] | |
| II. | [THE FOSTER BROTHERS] | |
| III. | [THE RESOLUTION] | |
| IV. | [THE EXECUTION] | |
| V. | [THE PASSAGE] | |
| VI. | [THE LINDA] | |
| VII. | [HUSBAND AND WIFE] | |
| VIII. | [THE DARK-HEARTS] | |
| IX. | [IN THE STREET] | |
| X. | [SWORD-THRUSTS] | |
| XI. | [GENERAL BUSTAMENTE] | |
| XII. | [THE SPY] | |
| XIII. | [LOVE] | |
| XIV. | [THE QUINTA VERDE] | |
| XV. | [THE DEPARTURE] | |
| XVI. | [THE MEETING] | |
| XVII. | [THE PUELCHES] | |
| XVIII. | [THE BLACK JACKAL] | |
| XIX. | [TWO OLD FRIENDS] | |
| XX. | [THE SORCERER] | |
| XXI. | [THE OBSEQUIES OF AN APO-ULMEN] | |
| XXII. | [EXPLANATIONS] | |
| XXIII. | [THE CHINGANA] | |
| XXIV. | [THE TWO ULMENS] | |
| XXV. | [THE SUN-TIGER] | |
| XXVI. | [THE MATRICIDE] | |
| XXVII. | [THE JUSTICE OF THE DARK-HEARTS] | |
| XXVIII. | [THE TREATY OF PEACE] | |
| XXIX. | [THE ABDUCTION] | |
| XXX. | [THE PROTEST] | |
| XXXI. | [SPANIARD AND INDIAN] | |
| XXXII. | [IN THE MOUNTAIN] | |
| XXXIII. | [ON THE WATCH] | |
| XXXIV. | [FACE TO FACE] | |
| XXXV. | [THE REVOLT] | |
| XXXVI. | [THE LION AT BAY] | |
| XXXVII. | [THE TRUCE] | |
| XXXVIII. | [TWO ROGUISH PROFILES] | |
| XXXIX. | [THE WOUNDED MAN] | |
| XL. | [ARAUCANIAN DIPLOMACY] | |
| XLI. | [THE COUNCIL] | |
| XLII. | [THE NIGHT JOURNEY] | |
| XLIII. | [TWO HATREDS] | |
| XLIV. | [THE RETURN TO VALDIVIA] | |
| XLV. | [THE FATHER REVEALS HIMSELF] | |
| XLVI. | [CURUMILLA] |
CHAPTER I.
THE CHAPARRAL.
During my last sojourn in America, chance, or rather my good star, led me to form an acquaintance with one of those hunters, or wood rangers, the type of whom has been immortalized by Cooper, in his poetical personage, Leather-Stockings.
The strange circumstance by which we were brought together was as follows. Towards the end of July, 1855, I had left Galveston, terrified at the fevers prevalent there, which are so fatal to Europeans, with the intention of visiting the north-west portion of Texas, a country I was then unacquainted with.
A Spanish proverb somewhere says, "It is better to go alone than in bad company;" and, like all other proverbs, this possesses a certain foundation of truth, particularly in America, where the traveller is exposed at each instant to the chance of meeting rogues of every hue, who, thanks to their seducing exterior, charm him, win his confidence, and take advantage of the first occasion to remorselessly plunder and assassinate him.
I had profited by the proverb, and, like a shrewd old traveller of the prairies, as I knew no one who inspired me with sufficient sympathy to lead me to make him my travelling companion, I had bravely set out alone, clothed in the picturesque dress of the inhabitants of the country, armed to the teeth, and mounted upon an excellent half wild horse, which had cost me twenty-five piastres—an enormous sum in those countries, where horses are considered as worth little or nothing.
I carelessly wandered here and there, living that nomadic life which is so full of attractions; at times stopping at a toldería, at others encamping in the desert, hunting wild animals, and plunging deeper and deeper into unknown regions. I had, in this fashion, passed through, without any untoward accident, Fredericksburgh, the Llana Braunfels, and had just left Castroville, on my way to Quichi. Like all Spanish-American villages, Castroville is nothing but a miserable agglomeration of ruined cabins, cut at right angles by streets choked with weeds, growing undisturbed, and concealing multitudes of ants, reptiles, and even rabbits of a very small breed, which spring up beneath the feet of the few passengers. The pueblo is bounded on the west by the Medina, a slender thread of water, almost dry in the great heat seasons; and on the east by thickly-wooded hills, the dark green of which forms a pleasing contrast with the pale blue of the sky.
At Galveston I had undertaken to deliver a letter to an inhabitant of Castroville. The worthy man lived in this village like La Fontaine's rat in the depths of its Dutch cheese. Charmed by the arrival of a stranger, who, no doubt, brought him news for which he had been long anxious, he received me in the most cordial manner, and thought of every expedient to detain me. Unfortunately, the little I had seen of Castroville had sufficed to completely disgust me with it, and my only wish was to get out of it as quickly as possible. My host, in despair at seeing all his advances repulsed, at length consented to allow me to continue my journey.