CHAPTER XVII.
EAGLE HEAD.
Eagle Head was a chief as prudent as he was determined; he knew hehad everything to fear from the Americans, if he did not succeed incompletely concealing his trail.
Hence, after the surprise he had effected against the new establishmentof the whites, upon the banks of the great Canadian river, he neglectednothing to secure his troop from the terrible reprisals which threatenedthem.
It is scarcely possible to form an idea of the talent displayed by theIndians when the object is to conceal their trail.
Twenty times do they repass the same place, entangling, as it were, thetraces of their passage in each other, in such a manner that they end bybecoming inextricable; neglecting no accident of the ground, marching ineach other's footsteps to conceal their number, following for whole daysthe course of rivulets, frequently with the water up to their waist,carrying their precautions and patience so far as ever to efface withtheir hands, and, so to speak, step by step the vestiges which mightdenounce them to the keen, interested eyes of their enemies.
The tribe of the Serpent, to which the warriors commanded by Eagle Headbelonged, had entered the prairies nearly five hundred warriors strong,in order to hunt the buffalo, and give battle to the Pawnees and Sioux,with whom they were continually at war.
It was Eagle Head's object, as soon as his campaign should be over, tojoin his brothers immediately, in order to place in safety the bootygained by the capture of the village, and to take part in a grandexpedition which his tribe was preparing against the white trappers andhalf-breeds spread over the prairies, whom the Indians, with reason,considered as implacable enemies.
Notwithstanding the extreme precaution displayed by the chief, thedetachment had marched rapidly.
On the evening of the sixth day that had passed away since thedestruction of the fort, the Comanches halted on the banks of a littleriver without a name, as is the case sometimes in these wilds, andprepared to encamp for the night.
Nothing is more simple than the encamping of Indians upon the warpath.
The horses are hobbled, that they may not stray away; if the savagesdo not fear a surprise, they kindle a fire; if the contrary, everyonemanages to get a little food and rest as well as he can.
Since their departure from the fort, no indication had given theComanches reason to think they were pursued or watched, and their scoutshad discovered no suspicious track. They were at but a short distancefrom the camp of their tribe,--their security was complete.
Eagle Head ordered a fire to be lit, and himself posted sentinels towatch over the safety of all.
When he had taken these prudent measures, the chief placed his backagainst an ebony tree, took his calumet, and ordered the old man and theSpanish woman to be brought before him.
When they appeared, Eagle Head saluted the old man cordially, andoffered him his calumet, a mark of kindness which the old man accepted,carefully preparing himself for the questions which the Indian was,doubtless, about to put to him.
As he expected, after a silence of a few moments, the latter spoke.
"Does my brother find himself comfortable with the redskins?" asked he.
"I should be wrong to complain, chief," the Spaniard replied; "since Ihave been with you I have been treated very kindly."
"My brother is a friend," the Comanche said, emphatically.
The old man bowed.
"We are at length in our own hunting grounds," the chief continued; "mybrother, the White Head, is fatigued with a long life; he is better atthe counsel fire than on horseback, hunting the elk or the buffalo--whatdoes my brother wish?"
"Chief," the Spaniard replied, "your words are true; there was a timewhen, like every other child of the prairies, I passed whole days inhunting upon a fiery unbroken mustang; my strength has disappeared, mymembers have lost their elasticity, and my eye its infallibility; I amworth nothing now in an expedition, however short it may be."
"Good!" the Indian replied, imperturbably, blowing clouds of smoke fromhis mouth and nostrils; "let my brother tell his friend what he wishes,and it shall be done."
"I thank you, chief, and I will profit by your kindness; I should behappy if you would consent to furnish me with means of gaining, withoutbeing disturbed, some establishment of men of my own colour, where Imight pass in peace the few days I have yet to live."
"Eh! why should I not do it? Nothing is more easy; as soon as we haverejoined the tribe, since my brother is not willing to dwell with us,his desires shall be satisfied."
There was a moment of silence. The old man, believing the conversationterminated, prepared to retire; with a gesture, the chief ordered him toremain.
After a few instants, the Indian shook the ashes out of his pipe, passedthe shank of it through his belt, and fixing upon the Spaniard a glancemarked by a strange expression, he said, in a sad voice,--
"My brother is happy, although he has seen many winters, he does notwalk alone in the path of life."
"What does the chief mean?" the old man asked; "I do not understand."
"My brother has a family," the Comanche replied.
"Alas! my brother is deceived; I am alone in this world."
"What does my brother say? Has he not his mate?" A sad smile passed overthe pale lips of the old man.
"No," he said, after a moment's pause; "I have no mate."
"What is that woman to him, then?" said the chief, with feignedsurprise, and pointing to the Spanish woman, who stood pensive andsilent by the side of the old man.
"That woman is my mistress."
"Wah! Can it be that my brother is a slave?" said the Comanche, with anill-omened smile.
"No," the old man replied haughtily! "I am not the slave of that woman,I am her devoted servant."
"Wah!" said the chief, shaking his head, and reflecting deeply upon thisreply.
But the words of the Spaniard were unintelligible to the Indian; thedistinction was too subtle for him to seize it. At the end of two orthree minutes he shook his head, and gave up the endeavour to solve the,to him, incomprehensible problem.
"Good!" he said, darting an ironical glance through his half-closedeyelids; "the woman shall go with my brother."
"That is what I always intended," the Spaniard replied.
The aged woman, who to this moment had preserved a prudent silence,judged it was now time to take part in the conversation.
"I am thankful to the chief," she said; "but since he is good enough totake interest in our welfare, will he permit me to ask him a favour?"
"Let my mother speak; my ears are open."
"I have a son who is a great white hunter; he must at this moment bein the prairie; perhaps, if my brother would consent to keep us a fewdays longer with him, it would be possible to meet with him; under hisprotection we should have nothing to fear."
At these imprudent words the Spaniard made a gesture of terror.
"Senorita!" he said sharply in his native language, "take care lest----"
"Silence!" the Indian interrupted in an angry tone; "why does my whitebrother speak before me in an unknown tongue? Does he fear I shouldunderstand his words?"
"Oh, chief!" said the Spaniard, in a tone of denial.
"Let my brother, then, allow my palefaced mother to speak; she isspeaking to a chief."
The old man was silent, but a sad presentiment weighed upon his heart.
The Comanche chief knew perfectly well to whom he was speaking; hewas playing with the two Spaniards, as a cat does with a mouse; but,allowing none of his impressions to appear, he turned towards the woman,and bowing with that instinctive courtesy which distinguishes theIndians, said in a mild voice, and with a sympathetic smile,--
"Oh! oh! the son of my mother is a great hunter, is he? So much thebetter."
The heart of the poor woman dilated with joy.
"Yes," she said, with emotion, "he is one of the bravest trappers on theWestern prairies."
"_Wah!_" said the chief, in a still more ami
able manner, "this renownedwarrior must have a name respected through the prairies?"
The Spaniard suffered a martyrdom; held in awe by the eye of theComanche, he did not know how to warn his mistress not to pronounce thename of her son.
"His name is well known," said the woman.
"Oh!" the old man cried eagerly, "all women are thus; with them alltheir sons are heroes: this one, although an excellent young man, is nobetter than others; certes, his name has never reached my brother."
"How does my brother know that?" said the Indian, with a sardonic smile.
"I suppose so," the old man replied; "or, at least, if by chance mybrother has heard it pronounced, it must long ago have escaped hismemory, and does not merit being recalled to it. If my brother willpermit us, we will retire; the day has been fatiguing; the hour ofrepose is come."
"In an instant," said the Comanche quietly; and turning to the woman,"What is the name of the warrior of the palefaces?" he asked, in aperemptory tone.
But the old lady, placed upon her guard by the intervention of herservant, with whose prudence and devotion she was well acquainted, madeno answer, conscious that she had committed a fault, and not knowing howto remedy it.
"Does not my mother hear me?" said the chief.
"Of what use would it be to repeat to you a name which, according to allprobability, is unknown to you, and which cannot interest you? If mybrother will permit me, I will retire."
"No; not before my mother has told me the name of her son, the greatwarrior," said the Comanche, knitting his brow and stamping his footwith ill-restrained anger.
The old Spaniard saw an end must be put to this; his determination wasformed in a second.
"My brother is a great chief," he said, "although his hair is stillbrown, his wisdom is immense. I am his friend, and am sure he would notabuse the chance that has delivered into his hands the mother of hisenemy: the name of that woman's son is Loyal Heart."
"Wah!" said Eagle Head, with a sinister smile, "I knew that well enough:why have the palefaces two hearts and two tongues? and why do theyalways seek to deceive the redskins?"
"We have not sought to deceive you, chief."
"I say you have. Since you have been with us, you have been treated aschildren of the tribe. I have saved your life!"
"That is true."
"Very well," he resumed, with an ironical smile, "I will prove to youthat Indians do not forget, and that they know how to render good forevil. These wounds that you see me bear, who inflicted them? LoyalHeart! We are enemies; his mother is in my power; I could at once tieher to the stake of torture; it is my right to do so."
The two Spaniards hung their heads.
"The law of the prairies is an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.Listen to me well, Old Oak. In remembrance of our ancient friendship, Igrant you a respite. Tomorrow at sunrise, you shall set out in search ofLoyal Heart; if, within four days, he does not come to deliver himselfup into my hands, his mother shall perish; my young men shall burn heralive at the stake of blood, and my brothers shall make war whistles ofher bones. Begone! I have spoken!"
The old man eagerly implored mercy. He threw himself on his knees beforethe chief; but the vindictive Indian spurned him with his foot, andturned away.
"Oh! madam," the old man murmured, in despair, "you are lost!"
"But be sure, Eusebio," the mother replied, choking with tears, "be surenot to bring back my son! Of what consequence is my death! Alas! has notmy life already been long enough?"
The old servant cast a glance of admiration at his mistress.
"Ever the same!" he said affectionately.
"Does not the life of a mother belong to her child?" she said, with acry which seemed to come from her very heart.
The old people sank, overwhelmed with grief, at the foot of a tree, andpassed the night in praying to God.
Eagle Head did not appear to have an idea of this despair.