The Stag, however, without neglecting entirely the precautions employed by the Indians when they are on the war trail, in order to throw out their enemies, felt so certain, however, that the white men would not venture into the formidable solitudes of Apacheria, owing to the innumerable obstacles which would rise at each step before them, and, above all, through their ignorance of the topography of this country, the last lurking place of the Indian braves, that he wasted but little time in masking his trail, and continued to advance almost in a straight line.
After marching thus for about two hours, crossing ravines and scaling hills, they reached a completely unwooded spot, over which were scattered shapeless ruins, proving that at a doubtless extremely remote period the place had been inhabited. These ruins, spread over a very considerable space, preserved a certain degree of symmetry; the walls, still standing, showed by their thickness and the care with which they were built, as well as materials employed, that an important town must have stood here once on a time. In the centre stood a teocali which time had respected, on the top of which were the ruins of a temple, whose vast and massive proportions testified to its ancient splendour, which was now eternally fled. There was something at once gloomy and majestic in the sight of these ruins suddenly rising in the midst of a virgin forest. They were the last traces of a forgotten world, whose memory the present inhabitants of the country have lost, and trample on their dust with a careless foot.
The Stag had selected these ruins to camp in. The warriors therefore established themselves in this city, probably founded by the Chichimecs at the period when, compelled by the hand of God, they performed their great migration, building in the course of their mysterious halts those formidable cities whose imposing ruins are still visible in different parts of New Spain. The Comanches during their vagabond rambles about the desert had many times camped at this solitary spot, whose strong position offered them a shelter against the attacks of their numerous enemies, men and wild beasts, that incessantly prowl about in search of a facile prey. It was at the summit of the teocali, in the ruins of the temple, which had heard the death cries of many victims offered as a holocaust to the implacable and sanguinary Hiutzilopochtli, the god of war, that the chief resolved to establish his camp.
When the horses had been hobbled in an excavation at the foot of the teocali, the warriors placed the prisoners in their midst, scaled the bramble and cactus covered steps that led to the top of the artificial hill, and on reaching the temple, after lighting several fires to prepare their meal, they cut down a quantity of branches, which they intertwined so as to form a species of roof over one of the halls of the temple. There, at a signal from the chief, the two ladies were installed, who, however precarious this shelter might be, were glad to take refuge in it, and escape for awhile from the stern glances of their ferocious conquerors, and recover from the terrible shock they had endured.
Doña Emilia's first care so soon as she was alone with her daughter, whose weakness was extreme, was to lay her on a pile of furs which the chief, doubtless through a feeling of compassion, had ordered to be placed by the fire. The state in which the young lady was, was really alarming. The prostration which had fallen on her after the snare to which she had fallen victim, was succeeded by a violent fever mingled with delirious and nervous attacks, which not only threatened her reason, but caused apprehensions for her life; at any rate there was reason to fear that her health would never entirely recover from the shock given to her system by the terror she had felt, and the extraordinary fatigue she had endured during nearly twenty hours; in spite of the sort of brutal gallantry with which the chief had tried to come to her help by ordering his men not to hurry, and by trying not only to pay the captives the attentions of which his rough character was capable, but by giving them all the relief he was able to offer them under the circumstances.
Doña Emilia did not know what means she should employ to calm her daughter's terrifying nervous excitement. Alone among savages, whom she justly regarded as implacable foes, wanting the remedies which were necessary for her poor child, she could only groan and hold her to her heart to prevent her dashing her head against the wall in one of these nervous attacks. Doña Emilia passed the whole night without sleep, constantly watching over the girl whose madness had assumed a startling character, and who no longer recognizing her mother, and unconscious of the place where she was, made the strangest remarks to her, and asked her the most singular questions with that volubility which fever produces.
Toward the close of night, at the moment when the stars began to disappear, the girl's frenzy gradually diminished; she closed her eyes and fell into a sleep which restored her poor mother a little hope and courage. At sunrise an Indian came in, placed provisions on the ground, laid a packet of simples by Doña Emilia's side, and withdrew without uttering a word. Several hours elapsed in this way; the redskins, while attentively watching their captives, left them constantly alone, supplying them all they required with a species of affectionate eagerness, but not troubling them with indiscreet questions or disagreeable intrusions into the refuge given them. Since their arrival at the teocali the chief had not presented himself to them, but seemed, on the contrary, desirous to remain invisible, while paying them attentions which revealed an assiduous care on his part.
Doña Diana's condition had visibly improved, nature, youth, and her powerful constitution had, after a trying struggle, eventually triumphed over the disease. Nursed by her mother with attentive tenderness, she at length became convalescent; but with health sorrow re-entered her mind, and the frightful position in which fatality had placed her appeared in all its horrible reality. She did not dare reflect on the future, for, alas, that was perhaps a terrible death amid torture, or dishonour a hundredfold worse than death. Hence a gloomy sorrow took possession of the maiden. She spent her days leaning over the wall, and with her eyes fixed on the imposing landscape that surrounded her looked despairingly around her, while burning tears, which she did not even think of drying, coursed slowly down her pale, thinned cheeks.
Mother and daughter remained thus side by side, not daring to confide to each other their terrible thoughts, awaiting the coming catastrophe which it was impossible for them to foresee or avoid. Days thus succeeded days without producing any change in their position; nothing had revealed to them the fate which the Comanches reserved for them, when on the morning of the tenth day after their arrival at the teocali, the Indian who seemed specially told off to watch them and supply them with food, informed them that the chief had arrived on the previous evening at the teocali, on his return from a distant expedition he had been obliged to make, and asked permission to speak to them after breakfast. On hearing this request, which was, however, made very politely, Doña Diana turned pale and shuddered with horror; she understood that her fate would depend on this interview, and spite of herself she trembled. Doña Emilia smiled ironically.
"Why pretend such great courtesy to captives?" she replied bitterly. "Is not your chief our master? As far as I am aware a master does not require to announce his coming to his slaves."