Beadle's Dime Library, No. 149 — page 20: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A bivouacis soon organized in the desert. A sufficient space is cleared with axes, fires are lighted at regular distances to keep off wild beasts; the horses are picketed, and sentries placed to watch over the common safety, and then everybody lies down before the fire, rolls himself in his blanket, and thatisall. These rough men, accustomed to brave the fury of the seasons, sleep as profoundly under the canopy of the sky, as the denizens of towns in their sumptuous mansions. The yo man, when everybody had lain down to }rest, went the rounds to assure himself that all was ‘in order, and then returned to the fire, when he fell into earnest thought. The whole night passed and he did not make the slightest movement; but he did not sleep, his eyes were open and fixed on the slowly expiring embers, What were the thoughts that contracted his fore- head and made his eyebrows meet? It would be impossible to say. Perhaps he was traveling in the country of fancy, lorious dreams dreaming wide awake one of those are 80 intoxi- we have at the age of twenty, whic — and so deceitful! mB. we he started and sprung up as if worked ya ng. At this moment the sun appeared in the horizon, and began slowly dispersing the gloom. The young man bent forward and listened. The sharp snap of agun being cocked was heard a short distance off, and a sentry concealed in the shrubs shouted in a harsh, sharp voice: * Who goes there?" *‘ A friend,"’ was the reply from the bushes. The Jaguar started. “Tranquil here!'' he muttered to himself; “for what reason can he seek mer" And he rushed in the direction where he expected to find the Panther-killer. CHAPTER XXII, BLUE-FOX. We will now return to Blue-fox and his two com- rades, whom,in a previous chapter, we left at the moment when, after hearing bulicts “ping” their ears, they yee atin ntrenched themselves behind rocks and trunks of trees. So soon as they had taken this indispensable pre- caution against the invisible assailants, the three men caref inspected their weapons to be ready to reply | and thon waited with finger on trigger, and loo ing searo ly in all directions. They remained thus for a raiher lengthened period, though nothing again disturbed tho silonce of the prairie, or the slightest sign revealed to them that the attack made upon them would be renewed. Suffering from the deepest anxiety, not knowing to what they should attribute this at or what enemies they had to fear, the three men knew not what to do, or how to escape with honor from the embarrassing tion into which chance had thrown them. At length BDlue-fox resolved to go reconnoi- tering. Sta as the chief was justly afraid of falling into an ambuscade, carefully prepared to capture him and his comrades, without striking a blow, he thought it prudent, ere he started, to take the most minute precautions. The Indians are j renowned for their clever- ness; forced, through the life they lead from their birth, to employ continually the physical qualities which Providence has given them, in their ane. smell, and above all, sight, they have attained suc a fd beanta, of” — a cr a ——— Pee wi of whom, after they are only plagia- rists; but, as they have at their disposal one advan- tage over animalsin the intelligence which permits them to combine their actions and see their proba- ble consequences, they have acquired a cat-like suc- cess, if we may be allowed to employ the expression, which enables them to accomplish surprising things, of which only those who have seen them at work can form a correct idea, so tly does their skill go be- yond the range of probability. It is before all when they have to follow a trail, that the cleverness of the Indians, and the know- ledge they pessess of the laws of nature, acquire ex- traordinary proportions. Whatever care their enemy may have whatever precautions he may have employed to hide his trail and render it invisible, they always succeed in discove it in the end; from them the desert has retain no secrets, for them this virgin and majestic nature is a book, every page of which is known to them, and in which they read fluently, without the slightest—we will not say mistake, but merely—hesitation. Blue-fox, though still very young, had already gained a well-deserved reputation for cleverness and astuteness; hence under the present circumstances, surrounded in all probability by invisible enemies whose eyes, constantly fixed on the spot that serve as his re , watched every movement, he prepared with redoubled prudence to foil their machina tions and countermine their plans. After arran with his comrades a signal in the probable event of their help being required, he took off his buffalo-robe, whose wide folds might have impeded his movements, removed all the ornaments with which his head, neck, and chest were loaded, and only retained his m/fasses, a species of drawers made in two pieces, fastened from distance to dis- tance with , bound around the loins with a strip of untanned deer-hide, and descending to his ankles. Thus clothed, he rolled himself several times in the sand, for his body to assume an earthly color. qcne he peo through his belt his tomahawk and scalping e, weapons an Indian never lays aside, seized his rifle in his right hand, and, after giving a ere nod to his comrades who attentively watched iis different preparations, he lay down on the ground, and began crawling like a serpent through the tall and detritus of every description. Although the sun had risen for some time, and was post its dazzling beams over the prairie, Blue- ox’s de ure was managed with such circum- spection that he was far out on the plain, while bis comrades fancied him close to them; not a blade of grass had been agitated in his passage, or a pebble nynes under his feet. rom time to time Blue-fox stopped, took a peer- ing glance around, and then, when he felt assured that all was quiet, and nothing had revealed his posi. tion, he began crawling again on his hands and ee knees in the direction of the forest covert, from which he was now but a short distance. He then reached a spot entirely devoid of trees, where ey ss, lightly agpesicep —— a spots, m to sup e was reaching the place where the men who fred must have been ambushed. The Indian stopped, in order to investigate more closely the trail he had discovered. It apparently belonged to only one man; it was clumsy, wide, and made without caution, and rather the footsteps of a white man ignorant of the cus- toms of the prairie, than of a hunter or Indian. The bushes wefe broken as if the person who passed through them had done so by force, running along without taking the trouble to part the bram- bles; while at several spots the trampled earth was soaked with blood. Blue-fox could not at all understand this strange trail, which in no way resembled those he was ac- customed to follow. Was it a feint employed by his enemies to deceive him more easily by letting him see a clumsy trail intended to conceal the real one? or was it, on the other hand, the trail of a white man wandering about the desert, of whose habits he was ignorant? The Indian knew not what opinion to adhere to, and his perplexity was great. To him it was evi- dent that from this spot the shot was fired which saluted him at the moment when he was about to begin his speech; but for what object had the man, whoever he was, that had chosen this ambush, left such manifest traces of his e? He must surely have epee that his ag on would not remain unpunished, and that the persons he selected a target would immediately start in pursuit of m, At length, after trying for a long time to solve this problem, and racking his brains in vain to ar- rive at a probable conclusion, Blue-fox adhered to his first one, that this trail was fictitious, and mere- ly intended te conceal the true one. The fault of cunning persons is to suppose that all men are like the ves, and only vy cunning; hence they frequently deceive themselves, and the frankness of the means employed by their henge completely defeats them, and makes them lose a game which they had every chance of winning. Blue fox soon J pd amy that his supposition was false, that he had given his enemy credit for much greater skill and acity than he and that what he had regarded as an extremely complicated schome intended to deceive him, was, in faet, what be had at first thought it, namely, the passing of a man. After hesitating and turning back several times, the Indiarn at length resolved on pushing forward, and following what he believed to be a false trail, under the conviction that he would speedily find the real one; but, as he was persuaded that he had to do with extremely crafty fellows, he redoubled bis prudence and precautions, only advancing step by step, carefully exploring the bushes and chap- arral, and not going on till he was certain he had no eause to apprehend a surprise. His maneuvers occupied a long time; he had left his comrades for more than two hours, when he found himself all at once at the entrance of a rather large clearing, from which he was only separated by a curtain of fohage. The Indian stopped, drew himself up gently. parted the branches, and looked into the clearing. The forests of America are full of these cleari produced either by the fall of trees crumbling with old , or of those which have been struck by lightning, and laid low by the terrible hurricanes which frequently utterly uproot the forests of the New World. The clearing to whigh we allude here was rather e; a wide stream ran through it, and in the mud of its banks might be seen the deeply- imprinted footprints of the wild beasts that came here to drink. A magnificent mahogany tree, whose luxuriant branches overshadowed the whole clearing, stood nearly in the center. At the foot of this tic denizen of the forest two men were visible. The first, dressed in a monk’s gown, was lying on the ground with closed eyes, and face covered with a deadly pallor; the second, kneeling by his side, seemed to be paying him the most anxious atten- tion. Owing to the position occupied by the red skin, he was enabled to distinguish the features of this second person, whose face was turned toward him. He was aman of lofty stature, but excessively thin; his face, owing to the changes of weather to which it must have been long exposed, was of a brick color wed by deep wrinkles; a snow-white beard fell on his chest, mingled with the long curls of his equally white hair, which fell in disorder on his shoulders. He wore the garb of the American rangers combined with the Mexican costume; thus a vicuna-skin hat, ornamented with a gold golilla covered his head; a zarape served as his cloak, an his cotton velvet violet trowsers were thrust into long deer-skin gaiters, that came up to his knees, It was impossible od yee the man's age; although his harsh and marked features, and his wild eyes, which burned with a concentrated fire and had a wandering expression, revealed that he had attained old age, still no trace of decrepitude was visible in any part of his person; his stature seemed not to have lost an inch of its ene so straight was he still; his knotted limbs, ful f muscules hard as ropes, seemed endowed with extraordinary strength and suppleness; in a word, he had all the appearance of a dangerous wood-ranger, whose eye must be as sure, and arm as ready, as if he were only forty years of age. In his girdle he carried a pair of long pistols, and a sword with a straight and wide blade, called a machete, passed through an iron ring instead of a sheath, hung on his left side. Two rifles, one of which doubtless belonged to him, were leant against the trunk of the tree, and a magnificent mustang, icketed a few yards off, was nibbling the young ree shoots. What it has taken us so long to describe, the Indian saw at a glance; but it ap as if this scene, which he was so far from anticipating, was not very cheering to him, for he frowned portentous- ly, and could hardly restrain an exclamation of sur- prise and disappointment on seeing the two persons. By an instinctive movement of prudence he cocked RR a a ne ee “The Border Rifés. | his rifle, and after he had done this, he went on —_—_— watching what was doing in the clearing. At length the man d in the monk's gown made a slight movement as if to rise, and ly opened his eyes; but too weak yet, probably, to endure the brilliancy of the sunbeams, though they were filtered through the dense foliage, he closed them again; still, the individual who was nursing him, saw that he had regained his senses, by the movement of his lips, which quivered as if he were murmuring a prayer in a low voice. Considering, therefore, that, for the present at least, his attentions were no longer needed by his patient, the stranger rose, took his rifle, leaned his crossed hands on the muzzle, and awaited stoically, after giving a look round the clearing, whore gloomy and bateful expression caused the Indiea chief to give a start of terror in his leafy hiding-place. Several minutes elapsed, meg | which no sound was audible, save the rustling of the stream over its bed and the mysterious murmur of the insects of all descriptions hidden beneath the ty At length the man lying on the ground made a second movement, stronger than the first, and opened his eyes. wildly around him, his eyes were After look fastened with a species of st fascination on the tall old man, still standing motionless by his side, and who gazed on him in return with a mingled feel- ing of ironical com on and somber m choly. Thanks,” he at last murmured, in a weak voice. “Thanks for what?" the stranger asked, ee: “Thanks for having saved my life, brother,”’ the sufferer answered. “Tam not your brother, monk," the stranger said, mockingly; “I am a heretic, a gringo, as you are pleased to call ua; look at me, you have not ex- amined me yet with sufficient attention; have I not horns and goat's feet?"’ These words were uttered with such a sarcastic accent, that the monk was momentarily confounded. “ Who are you, then?" he at length asked, with se- cret apprebension. 8 at does that concern you?"’ the other said, with an ill-omened h; ‘the demon, ee The monk made a sudden effort to rise, crossed himself repeatedly. ” aay 4 Heaven save me from falling into the hands of the Pril Spirit!’’ he added. “Well, you "the other said, as he his shoulders con mptuously, “ reassure you ag am not the demon, but a man like yourself, perhaps not quite so hypocritical, though, that's the only dif- ference,” Ke . je ae yon. mpene, & y’? are you really one my fellow-men, disposed to serve me?"’ ‘Who can answer for the future?" the stranger replied, with an enigmatical smile; ‘‘up to the pres- ent, at any rate, you have had no cause of complaint against me.”’ ‘*No, oh no, I do not think so, though since my fainting fit my ideas have been quite confused, and I can remember nothing.”’ “What do I care? that does not concern me, for I ask nothing of you; I have enough business of my own not to trouble myself with that of others. Come, do you feel better? have you sufficiently to continue your journey?” * What! continue my journey?"’ the monk asked, timidly; “do you intend to abandon me then?” “Why not? I have already wasted too much time with you, and must attend to my own affairs.”’ =i at?” the monk objected, ‘‘after the interest eet have so benevolently taken in me, you would ve the courage to abandon me thus when almost dead, and not caring what may happen to me after your departure?” ‘““Why not? Idonot know TOM and have no oc- casion to help you. Accidentally crossing this clear ing, I noticed you lying breathless and pale as a corpse. I gave you that care which is refused to no one in the desert; now that you have returned to life, 1 can no longer be of service to you, so I am off, what can be more simple or logical? Good-by, and may the demon, for whom you took me just now, grant you his protection!”’ After uttering these words in a tone of sarcasm'and bitter irony, the stranger threw his rifle over |:is shoulder, and walked a few paces toward his horse. “Stay, in Heaven's name!" the monk exclaimed, as he rose with ter haste than with his weak- ness seemed le, but fear produced the strength: ‘* what will become of me alone in this desert?’’ “That does not concern me!" the stranger an- swered, as he coolly loosed the arm of his zarape which the monk had seized; “is not the maxim of the desert, each for himself?’ * Listen,’ the monk said eagerly; “‘my name is Fray Antonio, and Iam wealthy ; if you protect me I will reward you handsomely.’ The stranger smiled contemptuously. ‘““What have you to fear? you are young, stout, and well armed; are you not capable of protecting yourself?” ‘*No, because Iam pursued by implacable enemies, Last night they inflicted on me horrible and degrad- ing torture, and | only managed with great difficult to escape from their clutches. This mo acci- dent brought me across two of these men. On see- ing them a species of raging madness me; the idea of avenging myself occurred to me; I aim at them, an , and then fled, not knowing whither I was going, mad with rage and terror: on reaching this spot I fell, crushed and exhausted, as much through the sufferings I endured this night, as through the fatigues caused by a long and headlong race along abominable roads. These men are doubtless pursuing me; if they find me—and they will do so, for they are wood-rangers, perfectly ac- quainted with the desert—they wi kill’ me without pity; my only hope is in you, so in the name of what you hold dearest on earth, save me! save me, and my gratitude will be unbounded.” he stranger had listened to this long and pa- thetic pleading without moving a muscle of bis face. When the monk ceased, with breath and arcument equally pares, he rested the butt of his rifle on e und, ‘“ All that you say may be true," he answered dry- IY. “but I care as little for it as Ido fora flash in the pan; get out of the affair as you think proper for your entreaties are useless; if you knew who i am, you would very soon give up tormenting my ears with your jabbering.” GOMIE (ECO) JOO