The Pirates of the Prairies Part 34

"That is true," Don Miguel observed.

"How can we get her out of their clutches?" asked the general.

"That does not embarra.s.s me," Bloodson said; "tomorrow, at daybreak, we will start with all our people, and go to Unicorn's village, who will join his warriors to ours, and then we will attack the Apaches in their village."

"Very good; but shall we be sure of finding my daughter at the village?"

"In the desert everything is seen and known. Do you fancy that Don Valentine has remained inactive since he left us? You may feel a.s.sured that he has long been on the trail of the young lady, if he has not already liberated her."

"May heaven grant it," the father remarked with a mournful sigh; "but who will advise us of what he has done?"

"Himself, you may be convinced of that. Still, as we are a very long distance from the village where your daughter is probably confined, we must hasten to get nearer to her; hence, my guests, get up your strength, for tomorrow will be a tiring day, I warn you. Now, permit me to wish you good night, and leave you, in order to give my final orders."

"One word more, I beg of you."

"Speak."

"What do you intend doing with the girl whom a strange accident has thrown into your power?"

"I do not know; events will decide her fate; I shall regulate my conduct by that of our common enemy."

"You said yourself," Don Miguel continued, "that the girl is innocent of her father's crimes."

Bloodson gave him a peculiar glance

"Do you not know, Don Miguel," he answered, in a hollow voice, "that in this world the innocent always suffer for the guilty?"

And, not adding a word further, he gave the Mexicans a profound bow, and slowly retired.

The two gentlemen looked after him, as he gradually disappeared in the gloom of the Teocali; then they fell back on their beds despondingly, not daring to impart to each other the sorrowful thoughts that oppressed them.

CHAPTER XXIII.

APACHES AND COMANCHES.

At daybreak some forty hors.e.m.e.n, at whose head rode Bloodson, Don Miguel Zarate, and General Ibanez, started in the direction of the Comanche village, guided by Unicorn. In the midst of the band rode Ellen, closely watched, and Harry, who would not leave her for a moment, galloped by her side.

The maiden had guessed, in spite of the attentions offered her, or perhaps through them, that she was regarded rather as a prisoner than a friend by the men who surrounded her. Hence, on leaving the Teocali, she had given Harry a suppliant glance to remain by her side. The hunter had understood this glance, and, in spite of all that Bloodson urged to induce him to ride with him at the head of the party, he obstinately remained by Ellen's side.

By a strange coincidence, at the very moment when the partisans, guided by Unicorn, were leaving the Teocali to go in search of news of their friends at the Comanche village, the latter were executing their miraculous flight, had left the islet on which they had defended themselves so bravely, and, after boldly crossing the Apache camp, were also proceeding, though by a different route, to the same village.

The march of a numerous party in the desert is generally less rapid than that of a few men, and it is easy of explanation. Two or three men proceeding together pa.s.s without difficulty anywhere, gliding through the chaparral, and following the track of wild beasts; but some forty persons compelled to adopt the Indian file, that is to say, march one after the other, along these problematical paths, scarce wide enough for one horseman, are constrained to cheek their pace, and advance with extreme precaution, especially on an expedition of the sort the partisans were now undertaking.

Hence, in spite of all the diligence they displayed, they advanced but slowly. The ruddy disc of the sun was rapidly descending on the horizon, the shadow of the lofty trees was lengthening more and more, the evening breeze was beginning to sough through the virgin forest, which extended for an enormous distance on the right of the travellers, while on the riverbank the alligators were clumsily leaving the bed of mud in which they had been slothfully wallowing, and were regaining the deep waters of the Gila.

The horses and riders, hara.s.sed by the fatigues of a long journey, were slowly dragging along, when Unicorn, who was about one hundred yards ahead, suddenly turned back and rejoined his comrades, who at once halted.

"What is the matter?" Bloodson asked, so soon as the chief found him; "Has my brother seen anything that alarms him?"

"Yes," the Indian laconically replied.

"I am waiting for my brother to explain."

"The desert is not quiet," the chief went on in a grave voice; "the vultures and white-headed eagles are flying in long circles, the deer and buffaloes are restless, the a.s.shatas are bounding in every direction, and the antelopes flying with all the speed of their limbs northward."

Bloodson frowned and waited a moment ere he replied. The Mexicans examined him anxiously, but at length he raised his head.

"What do you conclude from these signs?"

"This: the Apaches are crossing the prairie; they are numerous, for the desert is disturbed for a very considerable extent."

"Why the Apaches sooner than others?" Bloodson answered. "Cannot wood rangers have produced the excitement you have noticed, as well as the Indians?"

The Comanche warrior shook his head in contradiction.

"They are Apaches," he said, peremptorily. "This is not the season of the great hunts, the animals are not troubled by man at this period of the year. They know it, and do not desperately fly from him, as they are certain of not being pursued. The wood rangers march alone, or only three or four together, employing precautions not to startle the game.

But the Apaches are ignorant dogs, who, like the coyotes they resemble, continually a.s.semble in large parties, and, instead of marching like men or warriors, pa.s.s like a hurricane over the prairie, burning, destroying, and devastating everything in their pa.s.sage."

"That is true," Bloodson muttered; "your sagacity has not deceived you, chief; only the Apaches can be near here."

"Good; and what will my brother do?" the Comanche asked.

The stranger's eye flashed fire.

"We will fight them," he said.

The Indian gave an almost imperceptible shrug of his shoulders.

"No," he said; "that is no good; we must not fight at this moment."

"Speak then, in the devil's name," the stranger exclaimed, impatiently, "and explain your plan to us."

The Indian smiled.

"My brother is quick," he said.

Bloodson, ashamed of having given way to his temper, had already regained his coolness.

"Pardon me, chief; I was wrong."

And he held out his hand, which Unicorn took and pressed warmly.

"My brother is wise," he replied; "I know that he did not wish to insult a friend."

"Speak, chief; time is slipping away; explain your plan to me."