The Pirates of the Prairies Part 25

In a turn of the hand he was thrown down, and garotted, and that so promptly that he was choked as much by the sudden attack as by the terror that had seized on him. The chief put his prisoner on his shoulders, and deposited him at Dona Clara's feet, saying--"My sister's wishes are accomplished, this man is safe and sound."

"Thank you," the maiden answered, with a charming smile.

Curumilla turned red with delight.

Without loss of time, the hunters seized the seven best horses they came across, which they saddled, and then shod with _parfleche_ to avoid the sound of their hoofs on the sand.

This time, Valentine a.s.sumed the command of the party. So soon as the horses were urged into a gallop, all their chests, oppressed by the moving interludes of the struggle which had continued so long, dilated, and hope returned to their hearts. The hunters were at length in the desert; before them they had s.p.a.ce, good horses, arms and ammunition.

They fancied themselves saved, and were so to a certain extent, as their enemies still slept, little suspecting their daring escape.

The night was half spent, and the fog covered the fugitives. They had at least six hours before them, and they profited by them.

The horses, urged to their utmost speed, went two leagues without stopping. At sunrise the fog was dissipated by the first beams; and the hunters instinctively raised their heads. The desert was calm, nothing disturbed its majestic solitude; in the distance a few elks and buffaloes were browsing on the prairie gra.s.s, a sure sign of the absence of Indians, whom these intelligent animals scent at great distances.

Valentine, in order to let the horses breathe awhile, as well as draw breath himself, checked the headlong speed, which had no further object.

The region on which the hunters found themselves in no way resembled that they had quitted a few hours previously; here and there, the monotony of the landscape was broken by lofty trees; on either side stretched out high hills. At times they forded some of the innumerable streams which fall from the mountains, and, after the most capricious windings, are swallowed up in the Gila.

At about eight o'clock Valentine noticed, a little to the left, a light cloud of bluish smoke rising in a spiral to the sky.

"What is that?" Don Pablo asked, anxiously.

"A hunter's encampment, doubtless," Valentine answered.

"No," Curumilla said; "that is not a paleface, but an Indian, fire."

"How the deuce can you see that, chief? I fancy all fires are the same, and produce smoke," Don Pablo said.

"Yes," Valentine remarked, "all fires produce smoke; but there is a difference in smoke--is there not, chief?" he added, addressing Curumilla.

"Yes," the latter answered laconically.

"All that is very fine," Don Pablo went on; "but can you explain to me, chief, by what you see, that the smoke is produced by a redskin fire?"

Curumilla shrugged his shoulders without replying--Eagle-wing took the word.

"The whites, when they light fires," he said, "take the first wood to hand."

"Of course," said Don Pablo.

"Most frequently they collect green wood: in that case the wood, which is damp, produces in burning a white thick smoke, very difficult to hide on the prairie; while the Indians only employ dry wood, whose smoke is light, thin, almost impalpable, and soon becomes confused with the sky."

"Decidedly, on the desert," Don Pablo said, with an air of conviction, "the Indians are better than us; we shall never come up to them."

"Humph!" said Valentine; "If you were to live with them a while, they would teach you plenty more things."

"Look," Eagle-wing continued; "what did I tell you?"

In fact, during this conversation the hunters had continued their journey, and at this moment were not more than a hundred yards from the spot where the fire burned which had given rise to so many comments.

Two Indians, completely armed and equipped for war, were standing in front of the travellers, waving their buffalo robes in sign of peace.

Valentine quivered with joy on recognising them; these men were Comanches, that is to say, friends and allies, since the hunter was an adopted son of that nation. Valentine ordered his little party to halt, and carelessly throwing his rifle on his back, he pushed on, and soon met the still motionless Indians.

After exchanging the different questions always asked in such cases on the prairie, as to the state of the roads and the quant.i.ty of game, the hunter, though he was well aware of the fact, asked the Indians to what nation they belonged.

"Comanches," one of the warriors answered, proudly. "My nation is the Queen of the Prairies."

Valentine bowed, as if fully convinced. "I know," he said, "that the Comanches are invincible warriors. Who can resist them?"

It was the Indian's turn to bow, with a smile of satisfaction at this point-blank compliment.

"Is my brother a chief?" Valentine again asked.

"I am Pethonista (the Eagle)," the Indian said, regarding the hunter like a man persuaded that he was about to produce a profound sensation.

He was not mistaken; for the name was that of one of the most venerated chiefs of the Comanche nation.

"I know my brother," Valentine answered; "I am very happy to have met him."

"Let my brother speak; I am listening to him: the great white hunter is no stranger to the Comanches, who have adopted him."

"What?" the hunter exclaimed; "Do you know me too, chief?"

The warrior smiled.

"Unicorn is the most powerful Sachem of the Comanches," he said. "On leaving his village twelve hours ago, he warned his brother Pethonista that he expected a great white warrior adopted by the tribe."

"It is him," said Valentine. "Unicorn is a part of myself, and the sight of him dilates my heart. Personally, I have nothing to say to you, chief, since the sachem has instructed you; but I bring with me friends and two females--one is Sunbeam, the other the White Lily of the Valley."

"The White Lily is welcome among my people: my sons will make it a duty to serve her," the Indian answered n.o.bly.

"Thanks, chief. I expected nothing less from you. Permit me to rejoin my companions, who are doubtless growing impatient, to tell them of the fortunate meeting with which the Master of Life has favoured me."

"Good. My brother can return to his friends, and I shall go before him to the village, in order to warn my young men of the arrival of a warrior of our nation."

Valentine smiled at this remark.

"My brother is the master," he said.

After bowing to the Indian chief, he returned to his companions, who did not know to what circ.u.mstance they should attribute his lengthened absence.

"They are friends," Valentine said, pointing to Pethonista, who had leaped on a mustang, and started at full speed. "Unicorn, on leaving his village, ordered the chief I have been speaking to, to do us the honours until his return. So look, Don Pablo, how he hurries to announce our arrival to the warriors of his tribe."

"Heaven be praised!" the young man said, "For ease and rest in safety.

Suppose we push on?"

"Do not do so, my friend. On the contrary, if you will take my advice, we shall reduce our pace. The Comanches are doubtless preparing us a reception, and we should annoy them by arriving too soon."

"I do not wish that," Don Pablo replied. "In fact, we have nothing to fear now, so we can continue our journey at a trot."