At this proposition the four men exclaimed gladly their assent.
"I will help you to prepare the altar, father," Valentine said; "the idea is excellent."
"The altar is all ready, my friends. Have the kindness to follow me."
Father Seraphin then led them out of the grotto.
In the centre of a small esplanade in front of the cave an altar had been built by Eagle-wing and Curumilla on a grassy mound. It was very simple. A copper crucifix planted in the centre of the mound, covered by a cloth of dazzling whiteness; on either side of it two block-tin candlesticks, in which burned candles of yellow tallow, a Bible on the right, the pyx in the centre—that was all.
The hunter and the two Mexicans knelt piously, and Father Seraphin commenced offering the holy sacrifice, served devotedly by the two Indian chiefs.
It was a magnificent morning; thousands of birds, hidden beneath the foliage, saluted the birth of day with their harmonious songs; a fickle breeze poured through the branches, and refreshed the air; in the distance, far as eye could extend, undulated the prairie, with its oceans of tall grass incessantly agitated by the hurried foot falls of the wild beasts returning to their dens; and on the naked side of this hill, at the entrance of this grotto—one of the marvels of the New World—a priest, simple as an apostle, was celebrating mass on a grass altar under the eye of Heaven, served by two poor savages, and having as sole congregation three half-civilised men.
This spectacle, so simple primitive, had something about it imposing and sublime, which inspired respect and summoned up dreams of ancient days, when the persecuted church took refuse in the desert, to find itself face to face with God. Hence the emotion experienced by the witnesses of this religious act was sincere. A beam of happiness descended into their souls, and it was with real effusion that they thanked the priest for the pleasant surprise he had reserved for them. Father Seraphin was delighted at the result he had attained. Seeing the truly profound faith of his friends, he felt his courage heightened to continue the rude and noble task he had imposed on himself.
The mass lasted about three quarters of an hour. When it was finished the missionary placed the poor holy vessels in the bag he constantly carried with him, and they returned to the grotto for breakfast. An hour later, Don Miguel, General Ibañez, and the missionary took leave of Valentine, and mounted on their horses, which Curumilla had led to the entrance of the ravine. They started at a gallop in the direction of the Paso del Norte, whence they were about twenty leagues distant. Valentine and the two Indian chiefs remained behind.
"I am about to leave my brother," Eagle-wing said.