The Pirates of the Prairies Part 30

Dona Clara was not long despondent; when the first effect of terror had pa.s.sed she rose and seized a pistol.

"Do not trouble yourself about me," she said to Valentine and her brother. "Do your duty as brave hunters: if I am attacked, I can defend myself."

"I will remain by your side," said Shaw, giving her a pa.s.sionate glance.

"Be it so," she answered with a kind smile; "henceforth I shall be in safety."

The Comanches had entrenched themselves with their squaws in the great square of the village, where the flames did not affect them greatly.

Indeed, the wretched callis had not taken long to burn; the fire was already expiring for lack of nourishment, and they were fighting on a heap of cinders.

Valentine, while fighting in the first ranks of his allies, contented himself with holding the positions he had succeeded in occupying, and did not attempt to repulse the Apaches. All at once the war cry of the Comanches, mingled with a formidable hurrah, sounded in the rear of the Apaches, who were attacked with incredible fury.

"Bloodson! Bloodson!" the Apaches shouted, attacked with extraordinary terror.

It was, in truth, the stranger, who, followed by Don Miguel, General Ibanez, Unicorn, and all his comrades, rushed like a whirlwind on the Apaches. Valentine gave vent to a shout of joy in response to the hurrah of his friends, and rushed forward at the head of his warriors. From this moment the medley became horrible: it was no longer a combat, but a butchery, an atrocious carnage!

CHAPTER XXI.

THE AVENGER.

In order fully to comprehend the ensuing facts, we are constrained to relate here an event which occurred about twenty years before our story commences.

At that remote period Texas belonged, if not _de facto_, still _de jure_, to Mexico. Marvellously situated on the Mexican Gulf, endowed with a temperate climate and a fertile soil, which, if tickled with a spade, laughs with a harvest, Texas is a.s.suredly one of the richest countries in the New World. Hence, the Government, foreseeing the future of this province, did all in its power to populate it.

Unfortunately, it effected very little, incapable as it was of populating even Mexico. Still, a considerable number of Mexicans went across and settled in Texas.

Among the men who let themselves be tempted by the magic promises of this virgin soil were two brothers, Don Stefano and Don Pacheco de Irala, of the best families in the province of Nuevo-Leon. The active part they played in the war of independence had ruined them, and not obtaining from the liberals, after the triumph of their cause, the reward they had a right to expect for the services they had rendered--Don Gregorio, their father, having even paid with his life for his attachment to the party--they had no other resource but settling in Texas, a new country, in which they had hopes of speedily re-establis.h.i.+ng their fortunes.

Owing to their thorough knowledge of agriculture, and their intelligence, they soon gave a considerable extension to their settlement, which they had the pleasure of seeing daily grow more prosperous, in defiance of Indians, buffaloes, tempests, and illness.

The Hacienda del Papagallo (Parrot farm), inhabited by the two brothers, was, like all the houses in this country, which are continually exposed to the inrods of the savages, a species of fortress built of carved stone and surrounded by a thick and embrasured wall, with a gun at each corner: it stood on the top of a rather lofty hill, and commanded the plain for a considerable distance.

Don Pacheco, the elder of the two brothers, was married and had two daughters, little creatures scarce three years of age, whose joyous cries and ravis.h.i.+ng smiles filled the interior of the hacienda with gaiety. Hardly three leagues from the farm was another, occupied by Northern Americans, adventurers of more than dubious conduct, who had come to the country no one knew how, and who, since they inhabited it, led a mysteriously problematical existence, which gave birth to the strangest and most contradictory reports about them.

It was whispered that, under the guise of peaceful farmers, these men maintained relations with the bandits who flocked into the country from every side, and that they were the secret chiefs of a dangerous a.s.sociation of malefactors, who had ravaged the country for several years past with impunity. On several occasions the two brothers had disputes with these unpleasant neighbours about cattle that had disappeared and other pecadillos of the same nature. In a word, they lived with them on the footing of an armed peace.

A few days previous to the period to which this chapter refers, Don Pacheco had a sharp altercation with one of these Americans of the name of Wilkes, about several slaves the fellow tried to seduce from hacienda, and the result was, that Don Pacheco, naturally hot-tempered, gave him a tremendous horsewhipping. The other swallowed the insult without making any attempt to revenge himself; but he had withdrawn, muttering the most terrible threats against Don Pacheco.

Still, as we have said, the affair had no further consequences. Nearly a month had pa.s.sed, and the brothers had heard nothing from their neighbours. On the evening of the day which we take up our narrative, Don Stefano, mounted on a mustang, was preparing to leave the hacienda, to ride to Nacogdoches, where important business called him.

"Then, you are really going?" Don Pacheco said.

"At once: you know that I put off the journey as long as I could."

"How long do you expect to be absent?"

"Four days, at the most."

"Good: we shall not expect you, then, before."

"Oh, it is very possible I may return sooner."

"Why so?"

"Shall I tell you? Well, I do not feel easy in mind."

"What do you mean?"

"I am anxious, I know not why. Many times I have left you, brother, for longer journeys than this--"

"Well!" Don Pacheco interrupted him.

"I never felt before as I do at this moment."

"You startle me, brother. What is the matter with you?"

"I could not explain it to you. I have a foreboding of evil. In spite of myself, my heart is contracted on leaving you."

"That is strange," Don Pacheco muttered, suddenly becoming thoughtful.

"I do not dare confess it to you, brother; but I have just the same feeling as yourself, and am afraid I know not why."

"Brother," Don Stefano replied in a gloomy voice, "you know how we love each other. Since our father's death, we have constantly shared everything--joy and sorrow, fortune or reverses. Brother, this foreboding is sent us from Heaven. A great danger threatens us."

"Perhaps so," Don Pacheco said sadly.

"Listen, brother," Don Stefano remarked, resolutely. "I will not go."

And he made a movement to dismount, but his brother checked him.

"No," he said, "we are men. We must not, then, let ourselves be conquered by foolish thoughts, which are only chimeras produced by a diseased imagination."

"No. I prefer to remain here a few days longer."

"You told me yourself that your interests claim your presence at Nacogdoches. Go, but return as soon as possible."

There was a silence, during which the brothers reflected deeply. The moon rose pallid and mournful on the horizon.

"That Wilkes is a villain," Don Stefano went on; "who knows whether he is not waiting my departure to attempt on the hacienda one of those terrible expeditions of which he is accused by the public voice?"

Don Pacheco began laughing, and, stretching out his hand in the direction of the farm, whose white walls stood out clearly on the dark blue sky, he said:--

"The Papagallo has too hard sides for those bandits. Go in peace, brother, they will not venture it."

"May Heaven grant it!" Don Stefano murmured.

"Oh, those men are cowards, and I inflicted a well-merited punishment on the scoundrel."