Gaspar the Gaucho Part 27

"Of course I have," is Gaspar's rejoinder. "If I hadn't we might as well give everything up, and take the back-track home again. We won't do that, while there's a chance left for taking the _muchachita_ along with us."

"Never!" exclaims Cypriano, with determined emphasis. "If I have to go into their town myself, and die in it, I'll do that rather than return without my cousin."

"Be calm, _hijo mio_!" counsels Gaspar in a soothing tone, intended to curb the excitement of the fiery youth; "I don't think there will be any need for you either to enter the town, or lay down your life in it.

Certainly neither, unless my plan get spoiled by the ill luck that's been so long hanging about us. It isn't much of a plan after all; only to find one of the Indians, to whom I did a service when they were living at their old place. I cured the man of a complaint, which, but for the medicine I administered, would have carried him off to the happy hunting grounds--where just then he didn't wish to go. That medicine wasn't mine either. I had it from the _dueno_. But the sick man gave me credit for it all the same, and swore if I ever stood in need of his services, I could count upon receiving them, sure. From what I saw of him afterwards, and we came to know one another pretty well, I think I can. If ever there was a redskin to be trusted it's he. Besides, he's one of some authority in the tribe--a sort of sub-chief."

"I know another," breaks in Ludwig, as if suddenly recollecting; "one who'd help us too--if we could only have a word with him. That's Nacena's brother, Kaolin."

Cypriano casts at his cousin a glance of peculiar meaning--something like surprise. Not because the latter has made mention of an Indian girl and her brother, both known to himself; but his giving the girl's name first, as though she were uppermost in his thoughts. And she is; though that is a secret the young naturalist has. .h.i.therto kept close locked within his own breast.

Without noticing the glance of scrutiny bent upon him, he proceeds to explain himself.

"You may remember, Kaolin and I were the best of friends. He often went fis.h.i.+ng with me, or rather I went with him. And I'm sure he'd stand by me now, in spite of Aguara."

"So much the better," rejoins Caspar. "If my man fail me, we can fall back upon yours. What I propose doing, then, is this. We must keep quiet, and of course concealed, all day to-morrow till after sunset. We can employ ourselves in the preparation of my masquerading costume.

When it comes on twilight, or a little later, I can slip down among those _toldos_, and go sauntering about, like any other redskin, till I find my old patient. He being a big fellow, there shouldn't be much difficulty in doing that. When found I'll make appeal to him, to help us in getting the _nina_ out of--" he has it on his tongue to say "Aguara's clutches," but thinking of the effect of such a phrase falling upon Cypriano's ears, he concludes with the words, "whatever place they're keeping her in."

Caspar's scheme thus at length declared, seeming feasible enough--and indeed the only one which any of them can think of as at all practicable--the other two signify a.s.sent to it; and its execution, or the attempt, is finally determined upon.

Going on to discuss the steps next best to be taken, they are interrupted by the sound of footsteps--some one ascending from below!

The footfall is a light one, but distinct enough for them to tell, that whoever makes it is continuing on towards them, though yet unseen. As already said, the causeway is in part overshadowed by the cliff, and within this shadow keeps the person approaching. For all, on the footsteps drawing near, there is light enough for them to make out a figure; the better from its being clad in a drapery of white, loose and flowing, as though the wearer were a woman.

And so is she, or, to speak more correctly, a girl; her s.e.x and age revealed to them, as at a certain point she steps to the off side of the path, and the moonlight falling upon her, exposes to their view a face beautiful as youthful.

Gaspar and Cypriano both recognise the face, but say nothing. Different Ludwig, who at the first glance got of it, unable to restrain himself, mechanically mutters the name--

"Nacena!"

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

A DISPENSER OF SPELLS.

Fortunately Ludwig's exclamation has been uttered in a subdued tone of voice; but lest in his agitation he may speak louder, the gaucho grasps him by the arm, and cautions silence, enjoining the same on Cypriano.

For several seconds not another word pa.s.ses between them, all three remaining motionless, and silent as sphinxes.

Meanwhile the Indian girl having come opposite the place where they are seated, pa.s.ses onward with cautious step and eyes that interrogate the ground in front, as if she antic.i.p.ated seeing some one; like a young hind that has stolen timidly out of the covert, on hearing the call-bleat of the stag.

Soon she is far enough beyond to give them an opportunity of exchanging speech without her overhearing it; and of this the gaucho avails himself, whispering--

"She's keeping an appointment with her lover, I suppose."

He little thinks of the painful effect his words have produced upon Ludwig, as he adds--

"We'll do best to let her go on to their place of meeting, which is no doubt somewhere near. She must return this way, and then we can have _our_ interview with her. But where's the _amante_! A laggard, to let the girl be on the ground before him! That wasn't my way, when--See!

she's coming to a stop."

And to a stop she comes, just where the sloping path pa.s.ses out at the upper end of the defile, entering among the scaffolds. There standing erect, she glances inquiringly around, her gaze ranging along the open s.p.a.ces between the structures and the shadows underneath them.

For a minute or two she remains in this att.i.tude, without changing it, or making the slightest noise--evidently looking for a form or listening for a footstep. But neither seeing the one, nor hearing the other, she at length calls out a name; at first timidly, but after an interval in bolder tone, "Shebotha!"

"Not her lover after all!" mutters Gaspar, who remembers the name thus p.r.o.nounced, while Ludwig is relieved at hearing it, he also knowing something of the sorceress.

"Only that old hag!" the gaucho goes on; "I wonder now what the young sprout can be wanting with her, up here and at this hour of the night!

Some mischief between them, I haven't a doubt."

His conjectures are suddenly brought to a close by a new noise now reaching their ears; a sort of sc.r.a.ping or shuffling, diversified by grunts and coughs--all coming up from below. Turning their eyes that way, they see ascending what appears to be a human figure, but stooped forward so as more to resemble a creature crawling on all fours. At the same instant the Indian girl has caught sight of it; and standing poised on the platform's edge, she silently awaits its approach, knowing the bent form to be Shebotha's.

Scrambling on up the steep, at intervals stopping to take breath, while she intermittently gives out hoa.r.s.e grunts, the hag pa.s.ses by them, at length reaching the spot where the girl stands awaiting her. Stopping by the side of the latter, both are now seen face to face in the full moonlight; and never did moon s.h.i.+ne upon faces or figures more contrasting. On the one side age indicated by a spare body, thin skinny arms, features furrowed with wrinkles, of most repulsive aspect, and eyes sparkling with a sinister light; on the other, youth, with all its witching charms, a figure lithe and graceful as any palm growing on the plain below, features of cla.s.sic type, and a face exquisitely beautiful, despite its tint of bronze, the eyes bright with the glow of a burning pa.s.sion. For it is this last that has brought the girl thither.

Only a second or two do they remain silent, till the sorceress recovers breath; for it is she who breaks the silence, saying:--

"Nacena wants to speak with Shebotha? On what subject?"

"Need I tell you, Shebotha; you know!"

"I know that the sister of Kaolin is in love with our young _cacique_.

That is no secret to others, any more than to me."

"Oh! do not say that! I thought no one knew of it but--"

"But everybody," interrupts the unfeeling hag. "And what if they do?

Nacena is beautiful, the belle of our tribe, and need fear no rival; not even her with the eyes of blue, and the tresses of gold, who sleeps under Shebotha's roof. Nacena is jealous of the paleface captive; she has no cause."

"O, good Shebotha!" cries the young girl, in pa.s.sionate tone, her heart heaving with rekindled hope, "can you a.s.sure me of that? If so, you shall have all I can give you; my armlets, neck ornaments, _mantas, hamacas_, everything. Fear not my rewarding you well!"

"Nacena is generous," rejoins the sorceress, her eyes sparkling with pleasure at such a wholesale proffer of chattels. "She shall have that a.s.surance; for Shebotha can give it without fail. See this!"

While speaking, she has drawn out, from under the skin robe that covers her bony breast, what appears to be a small horn, converted into a phial with bottom and stopper.

"In this," she says, holding it up to the light, "is a fluid, one drop of which, given to Aguara will turn his heart whichever way Shebotha wishes it turned; make him love whomsoever she wants him to love; and that will be as Nacena wants it."

"Oh! it is good of you, Mam Shebotha so good! How shall I ever enough thank or reward you?"

"No matter about thanks," responds the hag with a knowing leer; "Shebotha likes better the reward. And what you've promised will content her. But promises, as Nacena herself knows, are sometimes badly kept, and should have something to secure them, by way of earnest. What can you give me now?"

The girl glances down to her breast, upon which lie several pendants, sustained by a ma.s.sive chain of gold pa.s.sing around her neck. Then she holds out her arms to show bracelets upon the wrists, beset with pearls and precious stones, that no doubt once clasped other wrists than hers-- those of palefaced _doncellas_ dwelling in Santiago or Salta.

Unclasping the armlets, one after another, she delivers them to Shebotha.

But the avaricious beldame is not yet satisfied. With her eyes upon the chain necklet and its glittering attachments, she nods towards it, as much as to say, "That too." And it, also, is detached; and handed over to her. Then her greedy eyes go to the fillet around the girl's temples, and an embroidered belt which encircles her waist. But these, though pretty ornaments, are not of great intrinsic value; and as Shebotha has in view a further levy of blackmail at a future time, she can then take them too.

For the present she appears content, all the more as she gloats over the treasure, which for a while she feasts her eyes upon without speaking.

Then slipping the various articles, one after another, into the bosom of her dress, she resumes speech, saying--

"Shebotha has other spells besides that spoken of; one powerful above all, which puts to sleep--ah! a sleep from which the sleeper never awakes. If the other should fail to act, and Aguara--"