CHAPTER XI.
THE BARGAIN.
Indians and wood rangers have two languages, of which they make use byturns, according to circumstances--spoken language, and the language ofgestures.
Like the spoken language, the language of signs has, in America,infinite fluctuations; everyone, so to say, invents his own. It isa compound of strange and mysterious gestures, a kind of masonictelegraph, the signs of which, varying at will, are only comprehensibleto a small number of adepts.
The Babbler and his companion were conversing in signs.
This singular conversation lasted nearly an hour; it appeared tointerest the speakers warmly; so warmly, indeed, that they did notremark, in spite of all the precautions they had taken not to besurprised, two fiery eyes that, from the middle of a tuft of underwood,were fixed upon them with strange intenseness.
At length the Babbler, risking the utterance of a few words, said, "Iawait your good pleasure."
"And you shall not wait it long," the other replied.
"I depend upon you, Kennedy; for my part, I have fulfilled my promise."
"That's well! that's well! We don't require many words to come to anunderstanding," said Kennedy, shrugging his shoulders; "only you neednot have conducted them to so strong a position--it will not be veryeasy to surprise them."
"That's your concern," said the Babbler, with an evil smile.
His companion looked at him for a moment with great attention.
"Hum," said he; "beware, _compadre_, it is almost always awkward to play adouble game with men like us."
"I am playing no double game; but I think you and I have known eachother a pretty considerable time, Kennedy, have we not?"
"What follows?"
"What follows? Well! I am not disposed that a thing should happen to meagain that has happened before, that's all."
"Do you draw back, or are you thinking about betraying us?"
"I do not draw back, and I have not the least intention of betrayingyou, only----"
"Only?" the other repeated.
"This time I will not give up to you what I have promised till myconditions have been agreed to pretty plainly; if not, no----"
"Well, at least that's frank."
"People should speak plainly in business affairs," the Babbler observed,shaking his head.
"That's true! Well, come, repeat the conditions; I will see if we canaccept them."
"What's the good of that? You are not the principal chief, are you?"
"No:--but--yet----"
"You could pledge yourself to nothing--so it's of no use. IfWaktehno--he who kills--were here now, it would be quite another thing.He and I should soon understand one another."
"Speak then, he is listening to you," said a strong, sonorous voice.
There was a movement in the bushes, and the personage who, up to thatmoment, had remained an invisible hearer of the conversation of thetwo men, judged, without doubt, that the time to take a part in itwas arrived, for, with a bound, he sprang out of the bushes that hadconcealed him, and placed himself between the speakers.
"Oh! oh! you were listening to us, Captain Waktehno, were you?" said theBabbler without being the least discomposed.
"Is that unpleasant to you?" the newcomer asked, with an ironical smile.
"Oh! not the least in the world."
"Continue, then, my worthy friend--I am all ears."
"Well," said the guide, "it will, perhaps, be better so."
"Go on, then--speak; I attend to you."
The personage to whom the Babbler gave the terrible Indian name ofWaktehno was a man of pure white race, thirty years of age, of loftystature, and well proportioned, handsome in appearance, and wearingwith a certain dashing carelessness the picturesque costume of the woodrangers. His features were noble, strongly marked, and impressed withthat loyal and haughty expression so often met with among men accustomedto the rude, free life of the prairies.
He fixed his large, black, brilliant eyes upon the Babbler, a mysterioussmile curled his lips, and he leant carelessly upon his rifle whilstlistening to the guide.
"If I cause the people I am paid to escort and conduct to fall intoyour hands, you may depend upon it I will not do so unless I am amplyrecompensed," said the bandit.
"That is but fair," Kennedy remarked; "and the captain is ready toassure your being so recompensed."
"Yes," said the other, nodding his head in sign of agreement.
"Very well," the guide resumed. "But what will be my recompense?"
"What do you ask?" the captain said. "We must know what your conditionsare before we agree to satisfy them."
"Oh! my terms are very moderate."
"Well, but what are they?"
The guide hesitated, or, rather, he calculated mentally the chances ofgain and loss the affair offered; then in an instant, he replied:
"These Mexicans are very rich."
"Probably," said the captain.
"Therefore it appears to me----"
"Speak without tergiversation, Babbler; we have not time to listen toyour circumlocutions. Like all half-bloods, the Indian nature alwaysprevails in you, and you never come frankly to the purpose."
"Well, then," the guide bluntly replied, "I will have five thousandduros, or nothing shall be done."
"For once you speak out; now we know what we have to trust to; youdemand five thousand dollars?"
"I do."
"And for that sum you agree to deliver up to us, the general, his niece,and all the individuals who accompany them."
"At your first signal."
"Very well! Now listen to what I am going to say to you."
"I listen."
"You know me, do you not?"
"Perfectly."
"You know dependence is to be placed upon my word?"
"It is as good as gold."
"That's well. If you loyally fulfil the engagements you freely make withme, that is to say, deliver up to me, not all the Mexicans who compriseyour caravan, very respectable people no doubt, but for whom I care verylittle, but only the girl, called, I think, Dona Luz, I will not giveyou five thousand dollars as you ask, but eight thousand--you understandme, do you not?"
The eyes of the guide sparkled with greediness and cupidity.
"Yes!" he said emphatically.
"That's well."
"But it will be a difficult matter to draw her out of the camp alone."
"That's your affair."
"I should prefer giving them all up in a lump."
"Go to the devil! What could I do with them?"
"Hum! what will the general say?"
"What he likes; that is nothing to me. Yes or no--do you accept theoffer I make you?"
"Oh! I accept it."
"Do you swear to be faithful to your engagements?"
"I swear."
"Now then, how long does the general reckon upon remaining in this newencampment?"
"Ten days."
"Why, then, did you tell me that you did not know how to draw the younggirl out, having so much time before you?"
"Hum! I did not know when you would require her to be delivered up toyou?"
"That's true. Well, I give you nine days; that is to say, on the eve oftheir departure the young girl must be given up to me."
"Oh! in that way----"
"Then that arrangement suits you?"
"It could not be better."
"Is it agreed?"
"Irrevocably."
"Here, then, Babbler," said the captain, giving the guide a magnificentdiamond pin which he wore in his hunting shirt, "here is my earnest."
"Oh!" the bandit exclaimed, seizing the jewel joyfully.
"That pin," said the captain, "is a present I make you in addition tothe eight thousand dollars I will hand over to you on receiving DonaLuz."
"You are noble and generous, captain," said the guide; "it is a pleasureto serve you."
"Still," the captain rejoined, in a rough voice, and with a look coldas a
steel blade, "I would have you remember I am called he who kills;and that if you deceive me, there does not exist in the prairie a placesufficiently strong or sufficiently unknown to protect you from theterrible effects of my vengeance.
"I know that, captain," said the half-breed, shuddering in spite ofhimself; "but you may be quite satisfied I will not deceive you."
"I hope you will not! Now let us separate; your absence may be observed.In nine days I shall be here."
"In nine days I will place the girl in your hands."
After these words the guide returned to the camp, which he enteredwithout being seen.
As soon as they were alone, the two men with whom the Babbler had justmade this hideous and strange bargain, retreated silently among theunderwood, through which they crawled like serpents.
They soon reached the banks of a little rivulet which ran, unperceivedand unknown, through the forest. Kennedy whistled in a certain fashiontwice.
A slight noise was heard, and a horseman, holding two horses in hand,appeared at a few paces from the spot where they had stopped.
"Come on, Frank," said Kennedy, "you may approach without fear."
The horsemen immediately advanced.
"What is there new?" Kennedy asked.
"Nothing very important," the horseman replied.
"I have discovered an Indian trail."
"Ah! ah!" said the captain, "numerous?"
"Rather so."
"In what direction?"
"It cuts the prairie from east to west."
"Well done, Frank, and who are these Indians?"
"As well as I can make out, they are Comanches."
The captain reflected a moment.
"Oh! it is some detachment of hunters," he said.
"Very likely," Frank replied.
The two men mounted.
"Frank and you, Kennedy," said the captain, at the expiration of aminute, "will go to the passage of the Buffalo, and encamp in the grottowhich is there; carefully watching the movements of the Mexicans, but insuch a manner as not to be discovered."
"Be satisfied of that, captain."
"Oh; I know you are very adroit and devoted comrades, therefore Iperfectly rely upon you. Watch the Babbler, likewise; that half-breedonly inspires me with moderate confidence."
"That shall be done!"
"Farewell, then, till we meet again. You shall soon hear of me."
Notwithstanding the darkness, the three men set off at a gallop, andwere soon far in the desert, in two different directions.