Wood Rangers Part 32

"Tiburcio Arellanos," was the reply.

At the mention of the name the Canadian could not restrain a gesture that expressed disappointment. There was nothing in the name to recall the slightest souvenir. He had never heard it before.

The young man, however, observed the gesture.

"You have heard the name before?" he asked abruptly. "Perhaps you knew my father, Marcos Arellanos? He has often been through the wildest parts of the country where you may have met him. He was the most celebrated gambusino in the province."

Instead of calling Marcos Arellanos his father, had Tiburcio said his _adopted father_, his explanation might have elicited a different response from the Canadian. As it was, he only said in reply:

"It is the first time I have heard the name. It was your face that recalled to me some memories of events that happened--long, long ago--"

Without finis.h.i.+ng what he meant to have said, the Canadian relapsed into silence.

Tiburcio, too, ceased speaking for a while; he was reflecting on some hopes that had suddenly sprung up within him. His meeting with the two trappers appeared to him not so much a mere chance as a providential circ.u.mstance. The secret which he possessed, almost useless to him alone, might be rendered available with the a.s.sistance of two auxiliaries such as they--it might become the key to the favour of Don Augustin. It was not without repugnance that he reflected on this means of winning the heart of Rosarita--or rather of purchasing it at the price of gold--for Tiburcio believed that it was closed against any more tender appeal. He had mentally resolved never to return to the hacienda; but notwithstanding this vow he still indulged in a slight remnant of hope--perhaps the echo of his own profound pa.s.sion. This hope overcame his repugnance; and he resolved to make known his design to the trappers, and endeavour to obtain a.s.sistance in carrying it out.

With this view he again opened the conversation.

"You are a hunter by profession--I think I have heard you say?"

"Yes; that is the vocation both of my comrade and myself."

"It is not a very profitable one, and yet attended with many dangers."

"Ah! it is a n.o.ble calling, my boy! My fathers followed it before my time, and I, after a few years of interruption, have resumed the profession of my fathers. Unfortunately I have no son to succeed me; and I can say, without boasting, that when I am gone a brave and strong race perishes with me."

"I, too," said Tiburcio, "follow the profession of my father--who, as I have told you, was a gambusino."

"Ah! you are one of a race whom G.o.d has also created--in order that the gold which He has given to the world should not be lost to the use of man."

"My father," continued Tiburcio, "has left me a grand legacy--the knowledge of a deposit of gold, not far from the frontier; and if two men, such as you and your comrade, would join me in obtaining it, I could promise to make you richer than ever you dreamt of becoming."

Tiburcio awaited the reply of the trapper, feeling almost certain of his adhesion, notwithstanding the refusal the latter had made in his presence to the proposal of Don Estevan. His astonishment, therefore, was great when the Canadian, with a negative shake of the head, replied as follows:

"Your proposal, young man, might be seductive to many--there was a time when it would have been so to myself--but now it is no longer so. What would gold be to me? I have no one to whom either to give it or leave it. I have no longer a country. The woods and prairies are my home, and gold would be of no service to me there. I thank you, young friend, for your offer, but I must decline to accept it."

And as he said this, the Canadian covered his face with his huge hand, as if to shut out from his eyes the seductive prospect which had been offered to his view.

"Surely this is not your final answer?" said Tiburcio, as soon as he had recovered from his surprise. "A man does not so readily refuse a treasure that he has only to pick up from the ground?"

"Nevertheless," responded the trapper, "it is my resolution, fixed and firm. I have other objects to follow. I have given myself, body and soul, to aid my comrade there in an enterprise--my comrade of ten years'

standing."

During this conversation the words _gold_ and _treasure_, frequently p.r.o.nounced, appeared to produce their magic influence on Pepe. Every now and then he turned himself, as if about to protest against the refusal of Bois-Rose, so definitively given. It was evident he was not sleeping very soundly while the talk was going on.

"This Don Estevan de Arechiza, of whom you speak," resumed the Canadian; "he is the same we saw at La Poza is he not--the chief of the expedition?"

"The same."

"Ha! is that the name he goes by here?" cried Pepe, suddenly rousing himself from his apparent sleep.

"You know him, then?" said Tiburcio, interrogatively.

"Yes--yes," replied Pepe; "he is an old acquaintance, with whom I have some back debts to settle--and that is why you see me in this part of the country. But if you desire to have the whole story--and from what has happened I fancy you will--I promise to tell it to you by-and-bye.

I begin to fancy that our cause is a common one; and if so, I shall be able to lend you a hand. But there's a time for everything; and now, the most important thing for me is to get some sleep, so as to be ready for whatever turns up."

As Pepe said this, he made a movement to return to the horizontal position from which he had temporarily raised himself.

"Stay! Pepe!" interrupted the Canadian, with an air of good-humour; "one instant before you fall asleep, or I shall say that you deserved the name of Pepe the Sleeper. Hear me! This young man has made us an offer. He wishes us to accompany him to a _placer_ he knows of, where you have only to stoop down and gather the gold in handfuls."

"Carramba!" exclaimed Pepe; "you have accepted the offer, of course?"

"On the contrary, I have refused it."

"Then you've done wrong, Bois-Rose! That's a thing that deserves consideration; but we can talk it over by-and-bye--I must have some sleep first." And as he uttered the last words he lay down again; and the instant after a loud snore announced that he was soundly asleep!

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

THE RECOGNITION.

The conversation, for a moment interrupted, was resumed by Bois-Rose.

"So you shall find," said he, "in my comrade Pepe, a man ready to join you against this Don Estevan; and, as Pepe's enemies are mine, I shall be equally your partisan. We shall be able to offer you a brace of good rifles that never miss their aim. There is one, at all events, I think I can answer for."

As the trapper said this, he pointed to the long piece that rested by his side.

Tiburcio cast his eyes upon the gun, and for a moment regarded it with some surprise. He appeared to look more particularly at the wood-work of the stock, which was notched and carved in a somewhat fantastic manner. Here there was a row of simple notches, and there another row of marks resembling crosses. Then there were rows of double crosses; and also one of triple crosses; and finally a series of stars. All these hieroglyphics appeared to have been cut with the blade of a knife; but their purpose was a puzzle to Tiburcio.

Bois-Rose, noticing an interrogative expression upon the face of the young man, at once entered upon an explanation.

"These marks," said he, "are the scores I keep of the savages that have fallen by my rifle. They themselves keep count by the number of scalps; but this, you see, is more Christian and decent. That row of crosses stands for Apache--there is a dozen in all. The double crosses are for Sioux--seven of them. Those with the triple branch are p.a.w.nees--eight of them I have sent to the land of spirits. The stars are Crows--and number only four, that my rifle has caused to utter their death-yell.

You see nine parallel notches?--well, these are nine Flatheads that, thanks to me, will rob no longer in this world; and finally, those marks of a roundish shape, which I needn't count, are so many Blackfeet, who have gone to their happy hunting-grounds. Now," added the trapper, "I think I can promise you a rifle that is not likely to miss fire, and the hand of a friend that will not fail you."

And as he said this, he stretched forth his huge hand, and grasping that of Tiburcio, pressed it frankly and firmly.

The young man accepted the offer with a profusion of thanks.

"I had a presentiment," said he, "when I saw the light of your fire, that I should find friends around it."

"You are not deceived," warmly responded Bois-Rose; "you have found friends;--but, pardon me when I ask you, have you no relatives or connections with whom you could find a home?"

For a moment the colour mounted to the cheeks of Tiburcio; but after a slight hesitation, he replied:

"Why should I not be frank with you?--I shall! Know then, brave trappers, that surrounded as I am by enemies who seek my life; disdained by the woman I have loved, and still love--I am alone in the world: I have neither father, nor mother, nor any relative that I know of?"

"Your father and mother--are they dead?" inquired Bois-Rose, with an air of interest.

"I never knew either of them," answered the young man in a sad voice.