The Pirates of the Prairies Part 33

"Good!" he said, "My brother is brave--I will help him to his vengeance."

At this moment Ellen partly opened her eyes.

"Where am I?" she murmured.

"Rea.s.sure yourself, Ellen," the hunter replied; "for the moment at least you have nothing to fear as you are surrounded by friends."

"Where is Dona Clara? I do not see her," she continued, in a weak voice.

"I will tell you presently, Ellen, what has happened to her," the hunter remarked.

Ellen sighed and was silent; she understood that Harry would not tell her fresh misfortune in her present state of weakness. Owing to Sunbeam's increasing attentions she, however, soon completely regained her senses.

"Does my sister feel her strength returned?" the squaw asked her anxiously.

"Oh," she said, "I am quite well now."

Unicorn looked fixedly at her.

"Yes," he said, "my sister is at present in a condition to travel. It is time to start, our road is long; Sunbeam will give her horse to the pale virgin, that she may be able to follow us."

"Where do you intend taking us, chief?" the hunter asked, with badly-veiled anxiety.

"Did not my brother say that he wished to avenge himself?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well, he can follow me, and I will lead him to those who will help him."

"Hum!" the Canadian muttered, "I require n.o.body for that."

"My brother is mistaken; he requires allies, for the enemy he will have to fight is powerful."

"That is possible. But I should like to know these allies, at any rate; I am not inclined to league myself with the villainous bandits, who flock to the desert and dishonour our colour. I am a frank and honest hunter, for my part."

"My brother has spoken well," the chief answered, with a smile; "he can be at rest, and place entire confidence in those to whom I am about to lead him."

"Who are they, then?"

"One is the father of the maiden the Apaches have carried off, the others--"

"Stay, chief," the hunter quickly exclaimed, "that is sufficient, I do not want to know the rest. We will start when you please, and I will follow you anywhere."

"Good; my brother will get the horses ready, while I give some indispensable orders to my squaw."

Harry bowed in sign of acquiescence, and deftly accomplished the task, while the Comanche took his wife aside, and conversed with her in a whisper.

"Now we will go," the Comanche said, as he returned to the hunter.

"Does not Sunbeam accompany us?" Ellen asked.

"No," the chief answered laconically.

The young Indian woman smiled pleasantly on the squatter's daughter and gliding swiftly among the trees, disappeared almost instantaneously.

The others mounted and started at a gallop in the opposite direction.

The Comanche warrior fancied he knew where to find Valentine and his comrades, and hence went in a direct line to the Teocali.

After the Trail-hunter's departure, Don Miguel and the other characters of our story, who remained in Bloodson's fortress, continued to sleep peaceably for several hours, and when they awoke the sun was already high on the horizon. The hacendero and the general, fatigued by the emotions of the preceding day, and but little accustomed to desert life, had yielded to sleep like men who require to regain their strength; when they opened their eyes, a plentiful meal awaited them.

Several days pa.s.sed without any incident. The stranger, in spite of the cordiality of his reception, maintained a certain degree of reserve with his guests, only speaking to them when it was absolutely necessary, but never seeking to begin with them one of those conversations in which people gradually forget themselves, and insensibly glide into confidential talk. There was something frigid about the manner of this strange man, which could not be explained, but which prevented any friendly relations.

One evening, at the moment when Don Miguel and the general were preparing to lie down on the skins of wild beasts, which served as their bed, their host approached them. Through the day the two gentlemen had noticed a certain agitation among the denizens in the Teocali. An unusual excitement had prevailed, and it was plain that Bloodson was about to attempt one of those daring expeditions to which he was accustomed.

Although the two Mexicans eagerly desired to know their host's projects, they were too much men of the world to question him, and restrained their curiosity while patiently awaiting an explanation which he would not fail soon to give them.

"Good news, caballeros," he said, as he joined them.

"Oh, oh!" the general muttered, "That's novel fruit here."

Don Miguel awaited their host's explanation.

"One of my friends," Bloodson continued, "arrived here this morning, accompanied by a Canadian hunter and Red Cedar's daughter."

At this unexpected good news the Mexicans started with joy and surprise.

"Ah," Don Miguel said, "she will be a precious hostage for us."

"That is what I thought," Bloodson continued; "however, the poor child is perfectly innocent of her father's crimes; and if she is at this moment in our power, it is only because she wished to save your daughter, Don Miguel."

"What do you mean?" the hacendero asked, with an internal tremor.

"You shall understand it," Bloodson answered.

And without any further preamble, he told his listeners all the details connected with the flight of the girls, which the reader already knows.

When he had finished his narrative there was a moment's silence.

"The position is a serious one," the general said, shaking his head.

"We must save our friends, at all risks," Don Miguel exclaimed, impetuously.

"That is my intention," said Bloodson; "at present the position of affairs is improved."

"How so?" the hacendero asked.

"Because it is better for Dona Clara to be a prisoner with the Apaches than with Red Cedar."