CHAPTER III.
DOWN THE PRECIPICE.
The romancer has an incontestable advantage over the historian. Notbeing obliged to restrict himself to historical documents, he bases hiswork chiefly on tradition, and revels in those incidents of private lifedisdained by cold and severe history, which is constrained to describeonly great events, and is not permitted to descend to the frequentlytrivial causes which not only prepared, but actually brought them about.
Frequently, after a long journey, the traveller, fatigued by the vasthorizons incessantly unrolled before him, and rendered giddy by thesharp air of the elevations along which he has been riding, looks downon the plain, and his eye rests with indescribable pleasure on thosemodest points in the landscape which at the outset he despised. In thesame way the romancer halts at the familiar episodes of the great poem,and listens to the simple stories told him by those who were actors inthe scenes merely indicated by history. Such stories complete the dryand stern narrative of great wars, but historians dare not transcribethem.
It is true that in these stories ignorance is nearly always perceptible,and prejudice very frequently; but life is found in them, for if thenarrators tell inexactly what happened, they at any rate say frankly howthey felt, what they heard and saw themselves, and the errors theysometimes involuntarily make are not falsehoods, but relative truths,which it is the duty of the romancer to classify and put in their properplace.
We have several times visited the narrow defile where the Border Riflesand the Mexicans fought the action we described in a previous volume.[1]Bending over the precipice, with our eyes fixed on the yawning abyssbeneath us, we heard the narrative of the strange incidents of thatbattle of giants, and if we had not been certain of the veracity of thenarrator, we should certainly have not only doubted but completelydenied the possibility of certain facts which are, however, rigorouslytrue, and which we are now about to impart to the reader.
The Border Rifles saw with a shriek of horror the two men, intertwinedlike serpents, roll together over the precipice; the flashes of thefire, which was beginning to die out for want of nourishment, afterdevastating the crests of the hills, threw at intervals a lurid lightover this scene, and gave it a striking aspect.
The first moment of stupor past, John Davis, mastering with difficultythe emotion that agitated him, sought to restore courage, if not hope,to all these men who were crushed by the terrible catastrophe. JohnDavis enjoyed, and justly so, a great reputation among the Borderers.All know the close friendship which attached the Americans to theirchief: in several serious affairs he had displayed a coolness andintelligence which gained him the respect and admiration of these men:hence they immediately responded to his appeal, by grouping silentlyround him, for they understood intuitively that there was only one manamong them worthy of succeeding the Jaguar, and that he was the NorthAmerican.
John Davis had guessed the feelings that agitated them, but did notallow it to be seen: his face was pale, his appearance sad: he bent athoughtful glance on the rude, determined men who, leaning on theirrifles, gazed at him mournfully, and seemed already tacitly to recognizethe authority with which he was, probably, about to invest himself.
Their expectations were deceived, at least, temporarily. Davis, at thismoment, had no intention of making the Borderers elect him as theirchief: the fate of his friend entirely absorbed him, and all otherconsiderations disappeared in the presence of the one idea.
"Caballeros," he said, in a melancholy tone, "a terrible misfortune hasstruck us. Under such circumstances, we must summon up all our courageand resignation, for women weep, but men revenge themselves. The deathof the Jaguar is not only an immense loss for ourselves, but also forthe cause we have sworn to defend, and to which he has already givensuch great proof of devotion. But, before bewailing our chief, so worthyin every respect of the sorrow which we shall feel for him, we have oneduty to accomplish--a duty which, if we neglect it, will cause uspiercing remorse at a later date."
"Speak, speak, John Davis, we are ready to do anything you order us,"the Borderers exclaimed unanimously.
"I thank you," the American continued, "for the enthusiasm with whichyou have replied to me: I cannot believe that an intellect so vast, aheart so noble, as that of our beloved Chief can be thus destroyed. God,I feel convinced, would not thus have broken a cause for which we haveso long been struggling with such devotion and self-denial. Heaven willhave performed a miracle in favour of our Chief, and we shall see himreappear among us safe and sound! But whatsoever may happen, should thislast hope be denied us, at any rate, we must not abandon like cowards,without attempting to save him, the man who twenty times braved deathfor each of us. For my part, I swear by all that is most sacred in theworld, that I will not leave this spot till I have assured myselfwhether the Jaguar be dead or alive."
At these words a buzz of assent ran along his hearers, and John Daviscontinued, "Who knows whether our unhappy Chief is not lying crushed,but still breathing, at the foot of this accursed abyss, and reproachingus for our cowardly desertion of him?"
The Border Rifles declared, with the most energetic oaths, that theywould find their Chief again, dead or alive.
"Good, my friends," the American exclaimed; "if he be unhappily dead, wewill place his body in the ground and protect his remains, so dear to uson many accounts, from the insults of wild beasts: but, I repeat to you,one of those presentiments which never deceive, because they come fromGod, tells me that he is still alive."
"May Heaven hear you, John Davis," the Borderers shouted, "and restoreus our Chief."
"I am going to descend the precipice," the American said; "I willinspect its most secret recesses, and before sunrise we shall know whatwe have to hope or fear."
This proposal of John Davis' was greeted as it deserved, by enthusiasticshouts. When the excitement of the hearers had slightly calmed, theAmerican prepared to carry out his design.
"Permit me a remark," said an old wood ranger.
"Speak, Ruperto, what is it?" Davis answered.
"I have known the spot where we now are for a long time, and have oftenhunted deer and antelopes here."
"Come to facts, my friend."
"You can act as you please, John Davis, on the information I am about togive you; by turning to the right, after marching for about three miles,you get round the hills, and what appears to us from here a precipice,is, in fact, only a plain, very enclosed, I allow, but easy to traverseon horseback."
"Ah, ah," John said thoughtfully, "and what do you conclude from that,Ruperto?"
"That it would be, perhaps, better to mount and skirt the hills."
"Yes, yes, that is a good idea, and we will take advantage of it; taketwenty men with you, Ruperto, and proceed at full speed to the plain youallude to, for we must not throw away any chance; the rest of the bandwill remain here to watch the environs, while I effect the descent ofthe barranca."
"You still adhere to your idea, then?"
"More than ever."
"As you please, John Davis, as you please, though you risk your bones onsuch a black night as this."
"I trust in Heaven, and I hope it will protect me."
"I hope so too for your sake; but I must be off--here's luck."
"Thanks, the same to you."
Red Ruperto then went off, followed by twenty borderers, whospontaneously offered to accompany him, and soon disappeared in thedarkness. The descent John Davis was preparing to make, was anything buteasy. The American was too experienced a wood ranger not to know, andhence took all proper precautions. He placed in his belt next his knifea wide and strong axe, and fastened round his waist a rope formed ofseveral _reatas_. Three men seized the end of the rope, which theyturned round the stem of a tree, so as to let it out without a shock,whenever the American desired it. As a final precaution, he lit a branchof ocote wood, which was to serve as his guide during his perilousdescent, for the sky was perfectly black, which rendered the gloom sothick that it was impossible to see anything
two paces away. His lastmeasures taken with the coolness that distinguishes men of his race, theNorth American pressed the hands held out to him, tried once again torestore hope to his comrades by a few hearty words, and kneeling on thebrink of the abyss, began slowly descending.
John Davis was a man of tried courage, his life had been one continuedstruggle, in which he had only triumphed through his strength of willand energy; still, when he began descending into the barranca, he feltchilled to the heart, and could not repress a slight start of terror,which ran over all his limbs like an electric flash. Still, he foughtagainst this emotion, which is nothing but that instinct ofself-preservation which duty has placed in the heart of every man, thebravest as the most cowardly, and continued his descent.
Although he was fastened round the waist, it was no easy task to go downthis almost perpendicular wall, to which he was compelled to cling likea reptile, clutching at every tuft of grass or shrub he came across, orelse he had been carried away by the wind, which blew furiously, andwould have crushed him like a nutshell against the sides of the abyss.
The first minutes were the most terrible to the bold adventurer; thefeet and hands must grow accustomed to the rude task imposed on them,and they only gradually learn to find, as it were instinctively, theirresting places; and this remark, which may appear erroneous to certainpersons, who, fortunately for themselves, have never been obliged to trythe experiment, will be recognized as rigorously true by all travellerswho have been compelled to ascend or descend mountains. After a fewminutes, when the mind remains at liberty, the body assumes of its ownaccord the necessary equilibrium, the feet find secure resting places,and the hands settle unhesitatingly on the grass or roots which offerthem the indispensable degree of resistance.
John Davis had hardly gone ten yards down, ere he found himself on awide ledge covered with thick shrubs; hitherto the descent had beenextremely rapid. Lighting himself by the torch, the American traversedin every direction this species of esplanade, which was about a dozenpaces in circumference; and, on carefully examining the thick shrubswhich covered it, the adventurer perceived that the tops had been brokenas if they had received a tremendous blow.
Davis looked around him. He soon concluded that this enormous gap couldonly have been made by the fall of two bodies: this remark gave him goodhope, for at so slight a distance from the mouth of the abyss, the twoenemies must have been full of life; the rapidity of their fall musthave naturally been arrested by the shrubs; they might have met atvarious distances similar obstacles, and consequently have undergoneseveral comparatively harmless falls. This hypothesis, erroneous thoughit was, still might be true.
John Davis continued his descent; the slope became constantly lessabrupt, and the adventurer met within his passage, not merely shrubs,but clumps of trees, grouped here and there. Still, as John Davis foundno further traces, a fear fell upon him, and painfully contracted hisheart; he was afraid lest the shrubs, through their elasticity, mighthave hurled the two unhappy men into space, instead of letting themfollow the slope of the precipice. This thought so powerfully occupiedthe American's mind, that a deep discouragement seized upon him, and forsome moments he remained without strength or will, crouching sadly onthe ground.
But Davis was a man of too stern a character, and endowed with such anenergetic will, to give way for any length of time to despair: he soonraised his head, and looked boldly around him.
"I must go on," he said in a firm voice. But, at the moment when heprepared to continue his descent, he suddenly gave a start of surprise,and uttered a cry as he rushed quickly toward a black mass, to which hehad hitherto paid but slight attention.
We once again ask our readers' pardon for the improbability of thefollowing detail; but we repeat that we are not explaining, butnarrating, confining ourselves to telling the truth, without pretendingto discuss the greater or less possibility of facts, which, howeverextraordinary they may appear, are exactly true.
The white-headed eagle, the most powerful and the best provided of thebirds, ordinarily builds its nest on the sides of barrancas, at the topof the loftiest trees, and chiefly those denuded of branches to aconsiderable height, but they are never found on rocks. This nest,strongly built, is composed of sticks from three to five feet in length,fastened together and covered with Spanish braid, a species ofcryptogamic plant of the lichen family, wild grass, and large patches ofturf. When the nest is completed, it ordinarily measures from six toseven feet in diameter, and at times the accumulation of materials thereis so considerable--for the same nest is frequently occupied for anumber of years, and receives augmentations each season--that its depthequals its diameter. As the nest of the white-headed eagle is veryheavy, it is generally placed in the centre of a fork formed by thefortuitous meeting of several large branches.
John Davis, by the help of his torch, had just discovered a few yardsfrom him, and almost on a level with the spot where he was standing, aneagle's nest, built on the top of an immense tree, whose trunk descendedfor a considerable depth in the precipice.
Two human bodies were lying stretched across this nest, and the Americanonly required one glance to assure himself that they were those of theJaguar and the Mexican Captain. They were perfectly motionless, andstill fast locked in each other's arms.
It was not at all an easy undertaking to reach this nest, which wasnearly ten yards from the sides of the precipice; but John Davis did notgive in on that account; now that he had found the body of his Chiefagain, he was determined to learn, at all risks, whether he were aliveor dead. But what means was he to employ to acquire this certainty? Howreach the tree, which oscillated violently with every gust? After ripereflection, the American recognized the fact that he could never climbthe tree alone; he therefore placed his hands funnel-wise to his month,and gave the shout agreed on with his comrades. The latter drew up thereata, and after half an hour of unheard of fatigue, Davis found himselfagain among his comrades.
The Border Rifles crowded round him eagerly to ask the details of hisexpedition, which he hastened to give them, and which were received withshouts of joy by all. Then happened a thing which proves how great wasthe affection all these men bore their Chief; without exchanging a word,or coming to any agreement, all procured torches, and, as if obeying thesame impulse, began descending the abyss.
Through the multiplicity of torches, which spread abroad sufficientlight, and, before all, the skill of these men, accustomed sincechildhood to run about the forests, and clamber up rocks and precipicesin sport, this descent was effected without any further misfortunes todeplore, and the whole band was soon assembled at the spot whence theAmerican had first discovered the nest of the white-headed eagle.
All was in the same state as Davis left it: the two bodies were stillmotionless, and still intertwined. Were they dead, or only in a faint?Such was the question all persons asked themselves, and no one couldanswer it. All at once a loud noise was heard, and the bottom of thebarranca was illumined by a number of torches. Ruperto's party hadarrived. Guided by the flashes they saw running along the sides of theprecipice, the latter soon discovered the nest, and the truth wasrevealed to them.
The arrival of Ruperto and his comrades was a great comfort to theAmericans, for now nothing would be more easy than to reach the nest.Four powerful adventurers, armed with axes, glided along the side of theprecipice to the foot of the tree, which they began felling with hurriedstrokes, while John Davis, and the men with him, threw their reatasround the top branches of the tree, and gradually drew it towards them.The tree began gracefully bending, and at length lay on the side of thebarranca, without receiving any very serious shock.
John Davis immediately entered the nest, and drawing his knife from hisbelt, bent over the body of the Jaguar, and put the blade to the youngman's lips. There was a moment of profound anxiety for these men; theirsilence was so complete, that the beating of their hearts might beheard. They stood with their eyes obstinately fixed on the American,daring scarcely to breathe, and, as it were
, hanging on his lips. Atlength John rose, and placed the knife near a torch; the blade wasslightly tarnished.
"He lives, brothers, he lives!" he shouted.
At these news the Border Rifles broke out into such a howl of joy andhappiness, that the nightbirds, startled in their gloomy hiding places,rose on all sides, and began flying heavily backwards and forwards,while uttering discordant and deafening cries. But this was not all: thenext point was to get the Jaguar out of the precipice, and let him downinto the gorge. We have said that the two bodies were closelyintertwined. The adventurers felt but slender sympathy for CaptainMelendez, the primary cause of the catastrophe, which had so nearlyproved fatal to the Jaguar; hence they were not at all eager to assurethemselves whether he were dead or alive; and when the moment arrived tofind means for conveying the body of their Chief into the barranca, avery serious and stormy discussion arose on the subject of the Mexicanofficer. The majority of the adventurers were of opinion that theeasiest way of separating the two bodies was by cutting off theCaptain's arms, and throwing his body into the abyss, to serve as foodfor wild beasts. Those who were more excited talked about stabbing himat once, so as to make quite sure that he did not recover. Some even hadseized their knives and machetes to carry out this resolution, but JohnDavis suddenly interfered.
"Stop!" he shouted, eagerly, "the Jaguar lives; he is still your Chief,so leave him to treat this man as he thinks proper. Who knows whetherthe life of this officer may not be more valuable to us than his death?"
The adventurers were not easily induced to spare the Captain, andadhered for a while to their proposal of stabbing him, after cutting offhis arms. Still, owing to the influence he enjoyed with the band, Davissucceeded in making them listen to reason, and they began arranging howto get the bodies down.
[1] See Border Rifles, same Publishers.