The Wild Huntress Part 36

"Surely _you_ do not intend to accompany us?"

"The women follow at a distance, to take care of the wounded. I go with them."

The voice of Wa-ka-ra, calling to me to join him and his warriors, put an end to a dialogue, that had done but little to ill.u.s.trate the story of the strange personage by my side. If possible, I was more mystified than ever. But it was not a time to be tempted by the lure of an idle curiosity, however interesting the theme. The perilous situation of my old comrades came once more vividly before my mind. The thought recalled me to my duty; and, hurrying from the presence of that beautiful being--whom I hoped soon to behold again--I leaped upon the back of my horse; and joined the Utah warriors, as they swept in full gallop from out the lines of their encampment.

CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE.

EFFECTING THE SURROUND.

The ride was rough and rapid. Notwithstanding the superiority of my steed, it was as much as I could do to keep pace with my new allies-- whose horses, used to all sorts of ground, went gliding along the uneven paths, as if they had been graded roads. Through tangled bushes they scrambled without stay, over sharp and slippery rocks--their unshod hoofs rendering them sure-footed as mountain sheep. Down the gorge lay our route; and paths, over which I had almost feared to walk my horse, were now pa.s.sed in a quick continuous gallop. We soon reached the scene of my encounter with the huntress. The dog still kept sentry over the game. Couchant by the body of the bighorn, he only growled as the cavalcade swept past. No one stopped to relieve him, of his charge. On a war expedition the chase is universally neglected. Even its spoils are spurned. Hunger is supposed to beget prowess, as it sharpens the wits; and the savage fights best upon an empty stomach.

The hurried movements of the Indians--the eagerness each one exhibited to press forward--proved how earnest they were on this expedition. It was not my affair that was stimulating them to such speed. A tribal hostility of long standing--older than the warriors themselves--existed between Utah and Arapaho. Between the bands of Wa-ka-ra and Red-Hand the hostile inheritance had increased until it had reached the maximum of the most deadly _vendetta_. This will account for the hot haste with which we hurried on--for the universal excitement that prevailed in the ranks of my Utah allies. They knew that they outnumbered their enemies.

They already exulted in the antic.i.p.ation of a grand _coup_.

For all that, they were not rus.h.i.+ng recklessly into battle. The Utah chieftain was too skilled a soldier. I perceived that he was acting upon a preconceived plan; and his strategy was soon made known to me.

It was that of the "surround." The band was to break up into four divisions of nearly equal numerical strength. The first, under Wa-ka-ra himself, was to go round by the bluffs; and, having worked its way into the lower canon, would enter the plain from that direction. Should the Arapahoes attempt to retreat towards the Arkansas, this party could intercept them. A second division--also keeping above the bluffs--was to make to a point nearly opposite the b.u.t.te; where, by a ravine known to the Indians, a descent could be made into the valley of the Huerfano.

A third was to seek its station upon the opposite side--where a similar defile led down to the plain; while the remaining warriors were to move forward by the upper canon, and halt at its mouth--until the other three parties were known to have reached their respective places.

At a signal agreed upon, all four divisions were to move forward at a rapid gallop, and close in upon the enemy. The first party was to give the cue: as it had furthest to go; and, by the time it could reach its destination, the others would be ready. A smoke was to be the signal for charging forward. The plan was well conceived; and if it should prove that the Arapahoes were still by the b.u.t.te, a fight _a l'outrance_ might be looked for as the certain result. They would have no alternative but fight.

The execution of the movement was soon entered upon. Near the place where I had pa.s.sed the last hours of the night, a side ravine--which, in the darkness I had not observed--sloped up out of the gorge. By canons and deep defiles the whole face of the country was cut up in this _bi-pinnate_ fas.h.i.+on--every pa.s.s of it being well-known to the Utahs.

Hence their confidence in being able to effect the surround of their enemies, who were less familiar with this region; and who must have been tempted thither by the pa.s.sage of the train.

Up the lateral ravine rode Wa-ka-ra with his dusky warriors; while the second division, intended to take station on the bluff, defiled by the same track, but more slowly. The rest of us kept on down the gorge.

On reaching the main canon, the party destined for the opposite bluff separated from the other; and proceeded circuitously by a branch ravine that opened to the upper plain.

The fourth and last division rode direct down the bank of the river-- upon the path by which I had been pursued. This division was in charge of the second chief; and to it was I myself a.s.signed--with Peg-leg, also a volunteer, as my immediate companion. The trapper had himself some old scores to settle with the Arapahoes; and appeared as eager for the fight as any Utah in the tribe.

Apprehensive of falling in with some straggling pursuers of the preceding night, we moved forward with caution. The sub-chief was an old warrior, whose scars and grizzled hair betokened experience of many a hostile encounter, and no doubt many a cunning stratagem. Scouts were sent in advance; and these, returning from time to time, signalled that the path was clear. Advancing in this fas.h.i.+on, we at length reached the embouchure of the canon, and halted within its gloomy shadow.

As yet not an Arapaho had been seen: but, on climbing to a ledge of rocks, I had the satisfaction to perceive that these brigands were still by the b.u.t.te. I saw not them, but their horses--the _cavallada_ being almost in the position in which I had left it! From this it was evident, that they had returned from the pursuit: had abandoned it altogether, and given their steeds to the gra.s.s. Only a few of the men were in sight--moving about among the fires, that still burned upon the plain; but the strength of the _cavallada_ told that the others were there--no doubt, concealed from our view by the interposed ma.s.s of the mound. I saw the waggon at its base--the white tilt conspicuous against the dark-green foliage of the cedars. But my eyes dwelt not upon this.

In rapid glance, they were carried to the summit.

The crucifix was still there. I could trace its timbers--its upright and horizontal beams--though not distinctly. I knew what was rendering their outlines indistinct. There was a body upon the cross--the body of a man. It was that which interrupted the regularity of the lines. The timbers were between me and the body--for I viewed it from behind--and at such a distance, I could not have told who was the crucified man, even had he been facing me. Wingrove or Sure-shot--one or the other.

Of that much I was certain. I could make out that the man was naked-- just as I had been myself: I saw his white skin glistening along each side of the upright post.

While gazing upon it, I heard the report of a musket. Nearly at the same instant, a little blue-coloured cloud was ascending into the air.

It rose from behind the b.u.t.te; and was easily recognisable as smoke produced by the discharge of a gun. The savages had returned to their cruel sport. Too clearly did I comprehend the signs of that fiendish exhibition. After regarding the crucifix for awhile, I noted a circ.u.mstance that enabled me to decide which of my comrades was undergoing the terrible ordeal. To a certainty, Sure-shot was the sufferer. The Red-Hand had fulfilled his threat; and my brave preserver was now promoted to my place. The circ.u.mstance that guided me to this knowledge was sufficiently definite. I could tell it was Sure-shot by his height. I remembered that my own crown scarcely reached the top of the upright post. That of him now enduring the torture rose above it-- by the head. Under the bright sunbeam, there was a sheen of yellow hair. That of Wingrove would have appeared dark. Beyond doubt, Sure-shot was the martyr now mounted upon that dread cross!

I viewed the spectacle with feelings not to be envied. My soul chafed at the restraint, as it burned with bitter indignation against these demons in human form. I should have rushed forward to stay the sacrifice, or, if too late, to satisfy the vengeance it called forth; but I was restrained by reflecting on the impotency of the act. The prudent chief who commanded the Indians would not move, till the smoke-signal should be given; and videttes had climbed far up on the cliff, to watch for and announce it. It was not antic.i.p.ated that we should have long to wait. Our party had moved slowly down the defile; and the time consumed in our advance was considerable--almost enough to have enabled the others to get to their respective stations. This thought--along with my experience of the ball-practice of the Arapahoes--in some measure reconciled me to the delay. If he upon the cross was still living, his chances of escape were scarcely problematical. Another shot or two from such marksmen would be neither here nor there. If the unfortunate man were already dead, then was the delay of _less_ consequence: we should still be in time to avenge him.

But he was _not_ dead. The evidence that he was living was before my eyes; though, in the confusion of the moment, I had no sooner perceived it. Above the top of the post appeared the head held stiffly upright.

This proved that the body still lived. Had it been otherwise, the head would have been drooping?

CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX.

THE HISTORY OF THE HUNTRESS.

I had just made these observations as the Mexican clambered up the rock, and took stand by my side.

"_Hijo de Dios_!" exclaimed he, as his eyes fell upon the cross, "_la crucifixion_! What a conception for savages! _Mira_!" he continued, as another white cloud puffed out from behind the sloping side of the mound, and the report of a musket came booming up the valley, "_Santissima_! they are firing at the unfortunate!"

"Yes," said I; "they are playing with one of my comrades, as they did yesterday with myself."

"Ah, _mio amigo_! that is an old game of the Arapahoes. They used to practise it with their arrows, and for mere sport. Now that they have taken to guns, I suppose they combine instruction with amus.e.m.e.nt, as the books say. _Carrambo_! what cruel brutes they are! They have no more humanity than a grizzly bear. G.o.d help the poor wretch that falls into their clutches! Their captive women they treat with a barbarity unknown among other tribes. Even beauty, that would soften a savage of any other sort, is not regarded by these brutal Arapahoes. Only think of it! They were about to treat in this very fas.h.i.+on the beautiful _Americana_--the only difference being that they had strapped her to a tree instead of a crucifix. _Carrai-i_!"

"The beautiful Americana?"

"_Yes_--she who brought you to the camp."

"What! She in the hands of the Arapahoes?"

"_Sin duda_; it was from them she was taken."

"When, and where? How, and by whom?"

"_Hola! hombre_--four questions at once! _Muy bien_! I can answer them, if you give me time. To the first, I should say about six months ago. To the second, near the Big Timbers, on the Arkansas. My reply to the third will require more words; and before giving it, I shall answer the fourth by saying that the girl was taken from the Rapahoes by Don Jose."

"Don Jose--who is Don Jose?"

"Oh! perhaps you would know him by his American name--Oaquer?"

"Walker, the celebrated trapper? Joe Walker?"

"The same, _amigo_. Oaquara, the Utahs p.r.o.nounce it. As you perceive, their young chief is named so, and after him. The trapper and he were sworn friends--brothers--or more like father and son: since Don Jose was much the older."

"_Were_ friends. Are they not so still?"

"_Valga me dios_! No. That is no longer possible. Don Jose has gone under--was rubbed out more than three months ago, and by these very Rapahoes! That is why your fair _conpaisana_ is now with the Utahs.

The old trapper left her to his namesake Oaquara--under whose protection she has been ever since."

"He has been true to his trust? He _has_ protected her?" Under the influence of singular emotions did these questions escape me.

"_Seguramente, amigo_!" replied the Mexican, with an ingenuousness calculated to allay my unpleasant fancies, "the Utah chief is a n.o.ble fellow--_un hombre de bien_--besides, he would have done anything for his old friend--whose death greatly grieved him. That is just why you see him here in such haste. It was not to avenge your wrongs that they danced their war-measure--but the death of Don Jose. All the same to you, however: since your _companeros_ are likely to have the advantage of it. As for the Americana," continued he, before I had time to make rejoinder, "_Virgen santissima_! such a maiden was never seen in these parts. Such a shot! Not a marksman in the mountains could match with her, except Don Jose himself, who taught her; and as for hunting--_la linda cazadora_! she can steal upon the game like a couguar. Ah! she can protect herself. She _has_ done so. But for her spirit and rifle, the Red-Hand would have ruined her."

"But how? you have not told me--"

"True, _cavallero_! I have yet to answer number three. _Bueno_! As I said, it was near the Big Timbers, where she got into the hands of the Arapahoes. There was only a small band of the robbers, with Red-Hand at their head. He wanted to play the brute with her. She kept him off with her rifle, and a big dog you have seen. Red-Hand became angry, and had her strapped to a tree--where the monsters threatened to shoot their arrows into her body. Whether they intended to kill her, or only to terrify the poor girl, is not known; but if the former was their design, they were hindered from putting it into execution. Just at that moment, Don Jose came upon the ground with a party of trappers from the rendezvous on Cuerno Verde. They were strong enough to beat off the red-skinned ravishers and save the Americana. That is how she was taken from the Rapahoes."

"A brave deed! But how did she chance to be there? Since Bent's Port was abandoned, there is no white settlement near the Big Timbers."

"Ah! _senor_! that is the strangest part of the whole story. It was told me by Don Jose himself, while we were _companeros_ on a trapping expedition--just after he had saved the girl. _Carrambo_!--a strange tale!"

"Have you any objection to tell it to me? I feel a singular interest in this young girl."