Wood Rangers Part 9

"My own interest. I sell you the secret, but I do not intend to alienate my rights to the _placer_. I have vainly endeavoured to get up an expedition such as yours, for without a strong force it would be of no use going there. It would be certain death to a party of only two or three. With your band, however, it will be easy, and success would be certain. I only ask the tenth part of all the gold that may be gathered, which I would deserve as guide of the expedition; and going as guide I will be at the same time a hostage for my good faith."

"Is that what I am to understand; you estimate the price of your secret and services a tenth part of the whole?"

"That and two hundred dollars paid down to enable me to equip myself for the expedition."

"You are more reasonable than I expected, Cuchillo. Very well, then let it be so; the two hundred dollars you shall have, and I promise you the tenth part."

"Agreed."

"Agreed, and you have my word upon it. Now, answer me some questions which I wish to put. Is this Golden Valley in that part of the country where I intended to have taken my expedition?"

"It is beyond the Presidio of Tubac; and since your men are to meet there you will not need to make any change in the dispositions you have already taken."

"Good. And you have seen this Golden Valley you say with your own eyes?"

"I have seen it without the power of touching it. I have seen it grinding my teeth as I looked upon it, like the d.a.m.ned in h.e.l.l who get a glimpse of Paradise."

As Cuchillo spoke, his countenance betrayed beyond doubt the anguish he felt, at his cupidity having been balked.

Arechiza knew too well how to read the human physiognomy to doubt the truth of Cuchillo's report. Two hundred dollars were to him a mere bagatelle; and taking an ebony case from his bed, small but heavy, he drew from it a rouleau of gold pieces and handed them to the gambusino, who immediately put them in his pocket.

There was a little more in the rouleau than had been bargained for. The Spaniard took no notice of this, but forming a cross with his thumb and index finger of his right hand _a la mode Espagnole_, he held it before Cuchillo, directing him to make an oath upon it.

"I swear by the cross," said the latter, "to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. At the end of ten days' journey beyond Tubac, going in a north-western direction, we shall arrive at the foot of a range of mountains. They are easy to recognise--for a thick vapour hangs over them both night and day. A little river traverses this range of hills. It is necessary to ascend it to a point where another stream runs into it. There in the angle where the two meet, is a steep hill, the summit of which is crowned by the tomb of an Indian chief. I was not near enough to distinguish the strange ornaments that surround this tomb; but at the foot of the hill there is a small lake by the side of a narrow valley in which the water from rain torrents has thrown to the surface immense treasures of gold, this is the _Golden Valley_."

"The way will be easily found?" inquired Don Estevan.

"But difficult to travel," replied Cuchillo. "The arid deserts will be no obstacle compared with the danger from the hostility of Indians.

This tomb of one of their most celebrated chiefs they hold in superst.i.tious veneration. It is the constant object of their pilgrimages, and it was during one of these visits that we were surprised. Arellanos and myself."

"And this Arellanos--do you think, he has not revealed this secret to any one besides yourself?"

"You must know," replied Cuchillo, "that it is a custom of the gambusinos, before starting upon any expedition, to swear before the Holy Evangelists not to reveal the _bonanzas_ they may find without the consent of their a.s.sociates. This oath Arellanos took, and his death of course prevented him from betraying it."

"You have said that after his return from his first expedition, you met him in Tubac. Was there no woman whom he may perchance have had in his confidence?"

"His wife only--he may have told it to her. But yesterday a vaquero gave me the news that she has lately died. For all that, she may have revealed the secret to her son."

"Arellanos had a son then?"

"An adopted son--a young man whose father or mother no one knows anything about."

Don Estevan could not repress an involuntary movement.

"This young fellow is, no doubt, the son of some poor devil of this province?" said the Spaniard, in a careless way.

"No," replied Cuchillo, "he was born in Europe, and very likely in Spain."

Arechiza appeared to fall into a reverie, his head bending towards his breast. Some souvenirs were disturbing his spirit.

"This much at least is known," continued Cuchillo. "The commander of an English brig-of-war brought him to Guaymas. He stated that the child, who spoke both French and Spanish, had been captured in an affair between the brig and a French privateer. A sailor who was either killed in the fight or taken prisoner, was beyond doubt his father. The captain of the English brig, not knowing what to do with him, gave him to Arellanos--who chanced to be in Guaymas at the time--and Arellanos brought him up and has made a man of him--my faith! that he has. Young as the fellow is, there is not such a _rastreador_ nor horse-tamer in the province."

The Spaniard, while apparently not listening to Cuchillo, did not lose a word of what he was saying; but whether he had heard enough, or that the subject was a painful one, he suddenly interrupted the gambusino:

"And don't you think, if this wonderful tracker and horse-breaker has been told the secret of his adopted father he might not be a dangerous rival to us?"

Cuchillo drew himself up proudly, and replied:--

"I know a man who will yield in nothing--neither at following a trail, nor taming a wild horse--to Tiburcio Arellanos; and yet this secret has been almost worthless in his keeping, since he has just sold it for the tenth part of its value!"

This last argument of Cuchillo's was sufficiently strong to convince Don Estevan that the Golden Valley was so guarded by these fierce Indians that nothing but a strong party could reach it--in short, that he himself was the only man who could set this force afoot. For a while he remained in his silent reverie. The revelations of Cuchillo in regard to the adopted son of Marcos Arellanos had opened his mind to a new set of ideas which absorbed all others. For certain motives, which we cannot here explain, he was seeking to divine whether this Tiburcio Arellanos was not the young Fabian de Mediana!

Cuchillo on his part was reflecting on certain antecedents relative to the gambusino Arellanos and his adopted son; but for powerful reasons he did not mention his reflections to Don Estevan. There are reasons, however, why the reader should now be informed of their nature.

The outlaw, as we have said, frequently changed his name. It was by one of these aliases used up so quickly, that he had been pa.s.sing, when at the Presidio Tubac he made the acquaintance of the unfortunate Arellanos. When the latter was about starting out on his second and fatal journey--before parting with his wife and the young man whom he loved as well as if he had been his own son--he confided to his wife the object of his new expedition; and also the full particulars of the route he intended to take. Cuchillo was nevertheless ignorant of this revelation. But the knowledge which the outlaw carefully concealed, was that he himself after having reached the Golden Valley guided by Arellanos, murdered his companion, in hope of having all the treasure to himself. It was true enough that the Indians appeared afterwards, and it was with difficulty that the a.s.sa.s.sin could save his own scalp. We shall now leave him to tell his own story as to how he made the acquaintance of young Arellanos, and it will be seen that this story is a mere deception practised upon Don Estevan.

"Nevertheless," resumed Cuchillo in breaking the silence, "I was determined to free my mind from all doubt upon the subject. On my return to Arispe I repaired to the dwelling of the widow of Arellanos to inform her of the death of poor Marcos. But with the exception of the great grief which the news caused her, I observed nothing particular-- nothing that could give me the least suspicion that I am not the sole possessor of the secret of the Golden Valley."

"One easily believes what he wishes to believe," remarked Arechiza.

"Hear me, Senor Don Estevan! There are two things on which I pride myself. One is, that I have a conscience easily alarmed; the other, that I am gifted with a perspicuity not easily deluded."

The Spaniard made no further objections. He was satisfied, not with the outlaw's conscience, but his perspicuity.

With regard to Tiburcio Arellanos, we need hardly state what the reader has no doubt already divined--that this young man was in reality no other than Fabian, the last descendant of the Counts of Mediana.

Cuchillo has already related how the English brig brought him to Guaymas. Left without a guide to enable him to discover his family-- disinherited of his rich patrimonial estates--an orphan knowing nothing of his parents, here he was in a strange land, the possessor of nothing more than a horse and a hut of bamboos.

CHAPTER TEN.

THE AFTERNOON RIDE.

When Cuchillo, after the interview just described, came forth from the hovel, the sun was no longer in the vertex of the heavens, but had commenced his downward course to the western horizon. The earth, burned up and dry as tinder, gave forth a thin vapoury mist, that here and there hung over the surface in condensed ma.s.ses, giving that appearance known as the _mirage_. Limpid lakes presented themselves to the eye, where not a drop of water was known to exist--as if nature, to preserve a perfect harmony, offered these to the imagination in compensation for the absence of the precious fluid itself. Far off in the forest, could be heard at intervals the crackling of branches under the burning rays of the sun--just as if the woods were on fire. But the trees were beginning to open their leaves to the southern breeze that freshened as the hours pa.s.sed on, and they appeared impatiently to await the twilight, when the night-dews would once more freshen their foliage.

Cuchillo gave a whistle, at which well-known signal his horse came galloping up to him. The poor beast appeared to suffer terribly from the thirst. His master, moved with pity, poured into a bowl a few drops of water from his skin bottle; and although it was scarce enough to moisten the animal's lips, it seemed to bring back the vigour of his spirit.

Cuchillo having saddled and bridled his horse, and buckled on a pair of huge spurs, called one of the attendants of Don Estevan. To this man he gave orders to have the pack of mules harnessed, as well as to collect the _remuda_ to be sent on in advance--in order that the sleeping quarters for the night should be ready upon their arrival. The place where the travellers were to rest that night--as Cuchillo informed the domestic--was to be at the cistern known as _La Poza_.

"But _La Poza_ is not on the route to Tubac!" objected the servant; "it lies out of the way and on the road leading to the _Hacienda del Venado_."

"_You_ have nothing to do with the route," peremptorily answered Cuchillo, "your master intends spending some days at the Hacienda del Venado. Therefore do as I have ordered you."

The Hacienda del Venado was the most important estate between Arispe and the Indian frontier, and its proprietor had the reputation of being the most hospitable man in the whole province. It was, therefore, without repugnance that the attendants of Don Estevan heard this news from Cuchillo--since, although their route of march would be extended in making the detour by the Hacienda del Venado, they knew they would enjoy several days of pleasant repose at this hospitable mansion.

The man to whom Cuchillo had given his orders, immediately saddled his horse and set off to collect the _remuda_. He soon discovered the horses browsing in the woods near at hand, and collected, as usual, around the bell-mare.

As he approached, the troop bounded off in affright--just as wild horses would have done; but the active horseman was too quick for them, for already the running noose of his lazo was around the neck of one of them. The horse, perceiving that he was caught, and knowing well the lazo--whose power he had often felt--yielded without resistance, and permitted himself to be led quietly away. The _capitansa_ (bell-mare) knew the signal and followed the horse of the servant, with all the others trooping at her heels.