The Scalp Hunters Part 27

"We go, then, to seek for our friends and relatives, who for years have been captives to our savage enemy. There are many among us who have lost kindred, wives, sisters, and daughters."

A murmur of a.s.sent, uttered chiefly by men in Mexican costume, testified to the truth of this statement.

"I myself," continued Seguin, and his voice slightly trembled as he spoke, "am among that number. Years, long years ago, I was robbed of my child by the Navajoes. I have lately learned that she is still alive, and at their head town with many other white captives. We go, then, to release and restore them to their friends and homes."

A shout of approbation broke from the crowd, mingled with exclamations of "Bravo!" "We'll fetch them back!" "Vive le capitaine!" "Viva el gefe!"

When silence was restored, Seguin continued--

"You know our purpose. You have approved it. I will now make known to you the plan I had designed for accomplis.h.i.+ng it, and listen to your advice."

Here the chief paused a moment, while the men remained silent and waiting.

"There are three pa.s.ses," continued he at length, "by which we might enter the Indian country from this side. There is, first, the route of the Western Puerco. That would lead us direct to the Navajo towns."

"And why not take that way?" asked one of the hunters, a Mexican. "I know the route well, as far as the Pecos towns."

"Because we could not pa.s.s the Pecos towns without being seen by Navajo spies. There are always some of them there. Nay, more," continued Seguin, with a look that expressed a hidden meaning, "we could not get far up the Del Norte itself before the Navajoes would be warned of our approach. We have enemies nearer home."

"Carrai! that is true," said a hunter, speaking in Spanish.

"Should they get word of our coming, even though the warriors had gone southward, you can see that we would have a journey for nothing."

"True, true!" shouted several voices.

"For the same reason, we cannot take the pa.s.s of Polvidera. Besides, at this season, there is but little prospect of game on either of these routes. We are not prepared for an expedition with our present supply.

We must pa.s.s through a game-country before we can enter on the desert."

"That is true, captain; but there is as little game to be met if we go by the old mine. What other road, then, can we take?"

"There is still another route better than all, I think. We will strike southward, and then west across the Llanos to the old mission. From thence we can go north into the Apache country."

"Yes, yes; that is the best way, captain."

"We will have a longer journey, but with advantages. We will find the wild cattle or the buffaloes upon the Llanos. Moreover, we will make sure of our time, as we can 'cache' in the Pinon Hills that overlook the Apache war-trail, and see our enemies pa.s.s out. When they have gone south, we can cross the Gila, and keep up the Azul or Prieto. Having accomplished the object of our expedition, we may then return homeward by the nearest route."

"Bravo!" "Viva!" "That's jest right, captain!"

"That's clarly our best plan!" were a few among the many forms by which the hunters testified their approval of the programme. There was no dissenting voice. The word "Prieto" struck like music upon their ears.

That was a magic word: the name of the far-famed river on whose waters the trapper legends had long placed the El Dorado, "the mountain of gold." Many a story of this celebrated region had been told at the hunters' camp-fire, all agreeing in one point: that there the gold lay in "lumps" upon the surface of the ground, and filled the rivers with its s.h.i.+ning grains. Often had the trappers talked of an expedition to this unknown land; and small parties were said to have actually entered it, but none of these adventurers had ever been known to return.

The hunters saw now, for the first time, the prospect of penetrating this region with safety, and their minds were filled with fancies wild and romantic. Not a few of them had joined Seguin's band in hopes that some day this very expedition might be undertaken, and the "golden mountain" reached. What, then, were their feelings when Seguin declared his purpose of travelling by the Prieto! At the mention of it a buzz of peculiar meaning ran through the crowd, and the men turned to each other with looks of satisfaction.

"To-morrow, then, we shall march," added the chief. "Go now and make your preparations; we start by daybreak."

As Seguin ceased speaking, the hunters departed, each to look after his "traps and possibles"; a duty soon performed, as these rude rangers were but little enc.u.mbered with camp equipage.

I sat down upon a log, watching for some time the movements of my wild companions, and listening to their rude and Babel-like converse.

At length arrived sunset, or night, for they are almost synonymous in these lat.i.tudes. Fresh logs were flung upon the fires, till they blazed up. The men sat around them, cooking, eating, smoking, talking loudly, and laughing at stories that ill.u.s.trated their own wild habits. The red light fell upon fierce, dark faces, now fiercer and more swarthy under the glare of the burning cotton-wood.

By its light the savage expression was strengthened on every countenance. Beards looked darker, and teeth gleamed whiter through them. Eyes appeared more sunken, and their glances more brilliant and fiend-like. Picturesque costumes met the eye: turbans, Spanish hats, plumes, and mottled garments; escopettes and rifles leaning against the trees; saddles, high-peaked, resting upon logs and stumps; bridles hanging from the branches overhead; strings of jerked meat drooping in festoons in front of the tents, and haunches of venison still smoking and dripping their half-coagulated drops!

The vermilion smeared on the foreheads of the Indian warriors gleamed in the night light as though it were blood. It was a picture at once savage and warlike--warlike, but with an aspect of ferocity at which the sensitive heart drew back. It was a picture such as may be seen only in a bivouac of guerilleros, of brigands, of man-hunters.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

EL SOL AND LA LUNA.

"Come," said Seguin, touching me on the arm, "our supper is ready; I see the doctor beckoning us." I was not slow to answer the call, for the cool air of the evening had sharpened my appet.i.te. We approached the tent, in front of which was a fire.

Over this, the doctor, a.s.sisted by G.o.de and a pueblo peon, was just giving the finis.h.i.+ng touch to a savoury supper.

Part of it had already been carried inside the tent. We followed it, and took our seats upon saddles, blankets, and packs.

"Why, doctor," said Seguin, "you have proved yourself a perfect _maitre de cuisine_ to-night. This is a supper for a Lucullus."

"Ach! mein captain, ich have goet help; Meinherr G.o.de a.s.sist me most wonderful."

"Well, Mr Haller and I will do full justice to your dishes. Let us to them at once!"

"Oui, oui! bien, Monsieur Capitaine," said G.o.de, hurrying in with a mult.i.tude of viands. The "Canadien" was always in his element when there was plenty to cook and eat.

We were soon engaged on fresh steaks (of wild cows), roasted ribs of venison, dried buffalo tongues, tortillas, and coffee. The coffee and tortillas were the labours of the pueblo, in the preparation of which viands he was G.o.de's master.

But G.o.de had a choice dish, _un pet.i.t morceau_, in reserve, which he brought forth with a triumphant flourish.

"Voici, messieurs?" cried he, setting it before us.

"What is it, G.o.de?"

"Une frica.s.see, monsieur."

"Of what?"

"Les frog; what de Yankee call boo-frog!"

"A frica.s.see of bull-frogs!"

"Oui, oui, mon maitre. Voulez vous?"

"No, thank you!"

"I will trouble you, Monsieur G.o.de," said Seguin.

"Ich, ich, mein G.o.de; frocks ver goot;" and the doctor held out his platter to be helped.