The Freebooters: A Story of the Texan War Read online

  CHAPTER VII.

  AN OLD FRIEND.

  Tranquil was too old and too crafty a wood ranger to let himself besurprised. With his eyes obstinately fixed on the spot whence the soundthat had aroused him came, he tried to pierce the darkness, anddistinguish any movement in the chaparral which would permit him toform probable conjectures as to the visitors who were arriving.

  For a long period the noise he had heard was not repeated, and thedesert had fallen back into silence. But the Canadian did not deceivehimself. Up to all Indian tricks, and knowing the unbounded patience ofthe Redskins, he continued to keep on his guard; still, as he suspectedthat in the darkness searching glances were fixed on him and spying hisslightest movements, Tranquil yawned twice or thrice, as if overcome bysleep, drew back the hand he had laid on his rifle barrel, andpretending to be unable to resist sleep any longer, he let his head sinkon his chest with a natural movement.

  Nothing stirred. An hour elapsed ere the slightest rumour disturbed thesilence of the forest. Still, Tranquil felt confident that he had notdeceived himself. The sky grew gradually brighter, the last star haddisappeared, the horizon was assuming those fiery red tints whichimmediately precede the appearance of the sun: the Canadian, weary ofthis long watching, and not knowing to what he should attribute thisinaction on the part of the Redskins, resolved at last to obtain thesolution of the enigma. He therefore started suddenly to his feet andtook up his rifle.

  At the moment he prepared to go on the discovery, a noise of footstepsnear him, mingled with the rustling of leaves, and the breaking of drybranches, smote his ear.

  "Ah, ah!" the Canadian muttered, "It seems they have made up their mindat last; let us see who these troublesome neighbours are."

  At the same instant, a clear feminine voice rose harmoniously andsonorously in the silence. Tranquil stopped with a start of surprise.This voice was singing an Indian melody, of which this was the firstverse--

  "I confide my heart to thee in the name of the Omnipotent.I am unhappy, and no one takes pity on me;Still God is great in my eyes."

  "Oh!" the hunter muttered, with a nervous quivering, "I know that song,it is that of the betrothed of the Snake-Pawnees. How is it that thesewords strike my ear so far from their hunting grounds? Can a detachmentof Pawnees be wandering in the neighbourhood? Oh, no! That isimpossible. I will see who this singer is who has awaked with the sun."

  Without further hesitation, the hunter walked hurriedly toward thethicket, from the centre of which the melody had been audible. But atthe moment he was about to enter it, the shrubs were quickly parted, andtwo Redskins entered the clearing, to the amazement of the Canadian.

  On coming within ten paces of the hunter the Indians stopped, andstretched their arms out in front of them, with fingers parted in signof peace; then, crossing their arms on their chest, they waited. At thismanifestation of the peaceful sentiments of the newcomers, the Canadianrested the butt of his rifle on the ground, and examined the Indianswith rapid glance.

  The first was a man of lofty stature, with intelligent features and opencountenance; as far as it was possible to judge the age of an Indian,this man seemed to have passed the middle stage of life. He was dressedin his full warpaint, and the condor plume, fastened above his rightear, indicated that he held the rank of a Sachem in his tribe.

  The other Redskin was not a man, but a woman, twenty years of age at themost; she was slim, active, and elegant, and her dress was decorated inaccordance with the rules of Indian coquetry: still, her worn features,on which only the fugitive traces of a prematurely vanished beauty werevisible, shewed that, like all Indian squaws, she had been pitilesslycompelled to do all those rude household tasks, the whole weight ofwhich the men lay on them, regarding it as beneath their dignity tointerfere.

  At the sight of these two persons, the hunter involuntarily felt anemotion, for which he could not account; the more he regarded thewarrior standing before him, the more he seemed to find again in thismartial countenance the distant memory of the features of a man he hadformerly known, though it was impossible for him to recall how or wherethis intimacy had existed; but overcoming his feelings, andcomprehending that his lengthened silence must appear extraordinary tothe persons who had been waiting so long for him to address to them thecompliments of welcome, which Indian etiquette demands, he at lengthdecided on speaking.

  "The Sachem can approach without fear and take his seat by the fire of afriend," he said.

  "The voice of the Pale hunter rejoices the heart of the Chief," thewarrior answered; "his invitation pleases him; he will smoke the calumetof friendship with the Pale hunter."

  The Canadian bowed politely; the Sachem gave his squaw a sign to followhim, and he crouched on his heels in front of the fire, where LoyalHeart and Lanzi were still asleep. Tranquil and the warrior then begansmoking silently, while the young Indian squaw was busily engaged withthe household duties and preparing the morning meal. The two men allowedher to do so, not noticing apparently the trouble she took.

  There was a lengthened silence. The hunter was reflecting, while theIndian was apparently completely absorbed by his pipe. At last he shookthe ash out of the calumet, thrust the stem through his belt, and turnedto his host--

  "The Walkon and the Maukawis," he said, "always sing the same song; theman who has heard them during the moons of spring recognizes them in themoons of winter, it is not the same with man; he forgets quickly; hisheart does not bound at the recollection of a friend; and if he meet himagain after many moons, his eyes do not see him."

  "What does the Chief mean?" the Canadian asked, astonished at thesewords, which seemed to convey a reproach.

  "The Wacondah is powerful," the Indian continued; "it is he who dictatesthe words my breast breathes; the sturdy oak forgets that he has been afrail sapling."

  "Explain yourself, Chief," the hunter said, with great agitation; "thesound of your voice causes me singular emotion; your features are notunknown to me; speak, who are you?"

  "Singing-bird," the Indian said, addressing the young woman, "you arethe _cihuatl_ of a Sachem; ask the great Pale hunter why he hasforgotten his friend--the man who, in happier times, was his brother?"

  "I will obey," she answered, in a melodious voice; "but the Chief isdeceived; the great Pale hunter has not forgotten the Wah-rush-a-menecof the Snake Pawnees."

  "Oh!" Tranquil exclaimed, warmly, "Are you really Black-deer, mybrother? My heart warned me secretly of your presence, and though yourfeatures had almost faded from my memory, I expected to find a friendagain."

  "Wah! is the Paleface speaking the truth?" the Chief said, with anemotion he could not quite conceal; "Has he really retained the memoryof his brother, Black-deer?"

  "Ah, Chief," the hunter said, sadly; "to doubt any longer would be aninsult to me; how could I suppose I should ever meet you here, at soconsiderable a distance from the wigwams of your nation?"

  "That is true?" the Indian remarked, thoughtfully; "my brother willforgive me."

  "What!" Tranquil exclaimed, "Is that charming squaw I see there, theSinging-bird, that frail child whom I so often tossed on my knee?"

  "Singing-bird is the wife of a Chief," the Indian answered, flattered bythe compliment; "at the next fall of the leaves forty-five moons willhave passed since Black-deer bought her of her father for two mustangsand a panther skin quiver."

  Singing-bird smiled gracefully at the hunter, and went on with herduties.

  "Will the Chief permit me to ask him a question?" Tranquil went on.

  "My brother can speak, the ears of a friend are open."

  "How did the Sachem learn that he would find me here?"

  "Black-deer was ignorant of it: he was not seeking the great Palehunter; the Wacondah has permitted him to find a friend again, and he isgrateful."

  Tranquil looked at the warrior in surprise. He smiled.

  "Black-deer has no secret from his brother," he said, softly; "the Palehunter will wait; soon he shall know all."

  "My brother is free to speak or be silent; I will wait."

  The conversation ceased here. The Sachem had wrapped himself in hisbuffalo robe, and did not appear disposed, to give any furtherexplanation at present. Tranquil, restrained by the duties ofhospitality, which in the desert prohibit any interrogation of a guest;imitated the Chiefs reserve; but the silence had lasted but a fewminutes, when the hunter felt a light hand laid on his shoulder, while asoft and affectionate voice murmured in his ear:--"Good morning,father."

  And a kiss completed the silence.

  "Good-morning, little one," the hunter replied, with a smile; "did yousleep well?"

  "Splendidly, father."

  "And you have rested?"

  "I no longer feel fatigued."

  "Good; that is how I like to see you, my darling girl."

  "Father," the inquisitive maiden said, as she looked around, "havevisitors arrived?"

  "As you see."

  "Strangers?"

  "No, old friends, who, I hope, will soon be yours."

  "Redskins?" she asked with an instinctive start of terror.

  "All of them are not wicked," he answered with a smile: "these arekind." Then, turning to the Indian woman, who had fixed her black velvetlooking eyes on Carmela with simple admiration, he called out,"Singing-bird!"

  The squaw bounded up like a young antelope. "What does my father want?"she asked, bowing gently.

  "Singing-bird," the hunter continued, "this girl is my daughter,Carmela," and taking in his bony hand those of the two women, he claspedthem together, adding with emotion, "Love one another like sisters."

  "Singing-bird will feel very happy to be loved by the White lily," theIndian squaw replied; "for her heart has already flown towards me."

  Carmela, charmed at the name which the squaw with her simple poesy hadgiven her, bent down affectionately to her and kissed her forehead.

  "I love you already, sister," she said to her, and holding her by thehand, they went off together twittering like two nightingales. Tranquillooked after them with a tender glance. Black-deer had witnessed thislittle scene with that Indian phlegm which nothing even disturbs: still,when he found himself alone with the hunter, he bent over to him, andsaid in a slightly shaking voice,--

  "Wah! my brother has not changed: the moons of winter have scatteredsnow over his scalp, but his heart has remained as good as when it wasyoung."

  At this moment the sleeper awoke.

  "Hilloh!" Loyal Heart said gaily, as he looked up at the sun, "I havehad a long sleep."

  "To tell you the truth," Lanzi observed, "I am not an early bird either:but nonsense! I will make up for it. The poor beasts of horses must bethirsty, so I will give them water."

  "Very good!" said Tranquil; "By the time you have done that, breakfastwill be ready."

  Lanzi rose, leaped on his horse, and seizing the lasso of the others,went off in the direction of the stream without asking questionsrelative to the strangers. On the prairie it is so: a priest is an envoyof God, whose presence must arouse no curiosity. In the meanwhile LoyalHeart had also risen: suddenly his glance fell on the Indian Chief,whose cold eye was fixed on him: the young man suddenly turned pale as acorpse, and hurriedly approached the Chief.

  "My mother!" he exclaimed in a voice quivering with emotion, "mymother--"

  He could say no more. The Pawnee bowed peacefully to him.

  "My brother's mother is still the cherished child of the Wacondah," heanswered in a gentle voice; "her heart only suffers from the absence ofher son."

  "Thanks, Chief," the young man said with a sigh of relief; "forgive thisstart of terror which I could not overcome, but on perceiving you Ifeared lest some misfortune bad happened."

  "A son must love his mother: my brother's feeling is natural; it comesfrom the Wacondah. When I left the Village of Flowers, the old greyhead,the companion of my brother's mother, wished to start with me."

  "Poor ?o Eusabio," the young man muttered, "he is so devoted to us."

  "The Sachems would not consent; greyhead is necessary to my brother'smother."

  "They were right, Chief; I thank them for retaining him. Have youfollowed my trail from the village?"

  "I did."

  "Why did you not awake me on your arrival?"

  "Loyal Heart was asleep. Black-deer did not wish to trouble his sleep:he waited."

  "Good! my brother is a Chief; he acted as he thought advisable."

  "Black-deer is intrusted with a message from the Sachems to Loyal Heart.He wishes to smoke the calumet in council with him."

  "Are the reasons that have brought my brother here urgent?"

  "They are."

  "Good! my brother can speak, I am listening."

  Tranquil rose, and threw his rifle over his shoulder.

  "Where is the hunter going?" the Indian asked.

  "While you tell Loyal Heart the message I will take a stroll in theforest."

  "The white hunter will remain; the heart of Black-deer has nothinghidden from him. The wisdom of my brother is great; he was brought up bythe Redskins; his place is marked out at the council fire."

  "But perhaps you have things to tell Loyal Heart which only concernyourselves."

  "I have nothing to say which my brother should not hear; my brother willdisoblige me by withdrawing."

  "I will remain, then, Chief, since such is the case."

  While saying these words, the hunter resumed his seat, and said: "Speak,Chief, I am listening."

  The methodical Indian drew out his calumet, and, to display theimportance of the commission with which he was entrusted, instead offilling it with ordinary tobacco, he placed in it _morhichee_, or sacredtobacco, which he produced from a little parchment bag he took from thepouch all Indians wear when travelling, and which contains theirmedicine bag, and the few articles indispensable for a long journey.When the calumet was filled, he lit it from a coal he moved from thefire by the aid of a medicine rod, decorated with feathers and bills.

  These extraordinary preparations led the hunters to suppose thatBlack-deer was really the bearer of important news, and they prepared tolisten to him with all proper gravity. The Sachem inhaled two or threewhiffs of smoke, then passed the calumet to Tranquil, who, afterperforming the same operation, handed it to Loyal Heart. The calumetwent the round thus, until all the tobacco was consumed.

  During this ceremony, which is indispensable at every Indian council,the three men remained silent. When the pipe was out, the Chief emptiedthe ash into the fire, while muttering a few unintelligible words,which, however, were probably an invocation to the Great Spirit; he thenthrust the pipe in his girdle, and after reflecting for some moments,rose and began speaking.

  "Loyal Heart," he said, "you left the Village of Flowers to follow thehunting path at daybreak of the third sun of the moon of the fallingleaves; thirty suns have passed since that period, and we are hardly atthe beginning of the moon of the passing game. Well, during so short aperiod many things have occurred, which demand your immediate presence,in the tribe of which you are one of the adopted sons. The war hatchet,so deeply buried for ten moons between the prairie Comanches and theBuffalo Apaches, has suddenly been dug up in full council, and theApaches are preparing to follow the war trail, under the orders of thewisest and most experienced Chiefs of the nation. Shall I tell you thenew insults the Apaches have dared to offer your Comanche fathers? Whatgood would it be? Your heart is strong, you will obey the orders of yourfathers, and fight for them."

  Loyal Heart bowed his head in assent.

  "No one doubted you," the Chief continued; "still, for a war against theApaches, the Sachems would not have claimed your help; the Apaches arechattering old women, whom Comanche children can drive off with theirdog-whips; but the situation has all at once become complicated, and itis more your presence at the council of the nation than the aid of yourarm, though you are a terrible warrior, which your fathers desire. TheLong knives of the East and the Yoris have also dug up the hatchet, andboth have offered to treat with the Comanches. An alliance with thePalefaces is not very agreeable to Redskins; still, their anxiety isgreat, as they do not know which side to take, or which party toprotect."

  Black-deer was silent.

  "The situation is, indeed, grave," Loyal Heart answered; "it is evencritical."

  "The Chiefs, divided in opinion, and not knowing which is the better,"Black-deer continued, "sent me off in all haste to find my brother,whose wisdom they are aware of, and promise to follow his advice."

  "I am very young," Loyal Heart answered, "to venture to give my advicein such a matter, and settle so arduous a question. The Comanche nationis the queen of the prairies; its Chiefs are all experienced warriors;they will know better than I how to form a decision which will at onceprotect the interests and honour of the nation."

  "My brother is young, but wisdom speaks by his mouth. The Wacondahbreathes in his heart the words his lips utter; all the Chiefs feel forhim the respect he deserves."

  The young man shook his head, as if protesting against such a mark ofdeference. "Since you insist," he said, "I will speak; but I will notgive my opinion till I have heard that of this hunter, who is betteracquainted with the desert than I am."

  "Wah!" said Black-deer, "the Pale hunter is wise; his advice must begood; a Chief is listening to him."

  Thus compelled to explain his views, Tranquil had involuntarily to takepart in the discussion; but he did not feel at all inclined to take onhimself the responsibility of the heavy burden which Loyal Heart triedto throw off his own shoulders. Still, he was too thoroughly a man ofthe desert to refuse giving his opinion in council, especially upon soimportant a question. After reflecting for some moments, he therefore atlength decided on speaking.

  "The Comanches are the most terrible warriors of the prairie," he said,"no one must try to invade their hunting grounds; if they make war withthe Apaches, who are vagabond and cowardly thieves, they are in theright to do so; but for what good object would they interfere in thequarrels of the Palefaces? Whether Yoris or Long knives, the Whites haveever been, at all times, and under all circumstances, the obstinateenemies of the Redskins, killing them wherever they may find them,under the most futile pretexts, and for the most time simply becausethey are Indians. When the coyotes are tearing each other asunder on theprairie, do the Indians try to separate them? No. They say, let themfight it out--the more that fall, the fewer thieves and plunderers willthere be in the desert. To the Redskins the Palefaces are coyotesthirsting for blood. The Comanches should leave them to devour eachother; whichever party triumph, those who have been killed will be somany enemies the fewer for the Indians. This war between the Palefaceshas been going on for two years, implacably and obstinately. Up to thepresent the Comanches have remained neutral; why should they interferenow? However great the advantages offered them may be, they will not beequivalent to a neutrality, which will render them stronger and moredangerous in the sight of the Whites. I have spoken."

  "Yes," Loyal Heart said, "you have spoken well, Tranquil. The opinionyou have offered is the only one the Comanches ought to follow, aninterference on their part would be an act of deplorable folly, whichthe Sachems would soon regret having committed."

  Black-deer had carefully listened to the Canadian's speech, and itappeared to have produced a certain impression on him; he listened inthe same way to Loyal Heart, and when the latter had ceased speaking,the Chief remained thoughtful for a while, and then replied--

  "I am pleased with the words of my brothers, for they prove to me that Iregarded the situation correctly. I gave the council of the Chiefs thesame advice my brothers just offered. My brothers have spoken like wisemen, I thank them."

  "I am ready to support in council," Loyal Heart remarked, "the opinionsthe white hunter has offered, for they are the only ones which shouldprevail."

  "I think so too. Loyal Heart will accompany the Chief to the callis ofthe nation?"

  "It is my intention to start on my return tomorrow; if my brother canwait till then, we will start together."

  "I will wait."

  "Good; tomorrow at daybreak we will follow the return trail in company."

  The council was over, yet Tranquil tried vainly to explain to himselfhow it was that Black-deer, whom he had left among the Snake Pawnees,could now be an influential Chief of the Comanche nation; and theconnection between Loyal Heart and the Chief perplexed him not a bitless. All these ideas troubled the hunter's head, and he promisedhimself on the first opportunity to ask Black-deer for the history ofhis life since their separation.

  As soon as Lanzi returned with the horses, the hunters and Carmela satdown to breakfast, waited on by Singing-bird, who performed her dutieswith extreme grace.