Gustave Aimard
The Guide of the Desert

The only thing he feared was to be perceived by the Indian sentinels, who, without doubt, were in ambush in the neighbouring woods.

But luck did not desert him in this last and desperate effort.

Arrived at a short distance from the thicket he wished to reach, Diogo glided between two streams. For that matter, this precaution was, let us hasten to say, not necessary; it was not the river (on which they had nothing to fear) that the Guaycurus watched, but only the hill where their enemies were to be found.

Diogo glided then, without encumbrance, into the thicket, opened the hole he had made to conceal his clothes, and drew them out with a thrill of delight; but instead of clothing himself with them, he made a packet of them, as well as of his arms, and again entered the river.

This mode of travelling appeared to him shorter and safer.

In order not to attract too much attention to himself, the captain had enveloped his packet in palm leaves, and had fastened the whole upon his head. Thus, as he swam, on the level of the water, this packet appeared to be drifting gently with the current; from the bank, it had completely the appearance of a mass of leaves and branches.

He soon reached the foot of the hill; there he was safe, and he could only be seen by the persons whom chance might have brought to the other bank.

After having calculated with a look the height he would have to ascend, and elevating himself almost perpendicularly above the river, the captain took in one hand his poignard, and in the other the knife confided to him by Tarou Niom as a sign of recognition, and began, with extreme ease and dexterity, to scale this kind of wall, planting by turns his weapons in the fissures of the rocks, and then pulling himself up by mere strength of wrist.

The ascent of the captain was long. At one time he remained suspended between heaven and earth, without being able either to mount or descend. But Diogo was a man endowed with too much coolness and courage to despair; a moment of reflection made him perceive a declivity less rough than that which he was pursuing.

Arrived on the platform of the hill, he made a halt for a moment to take breath. His difficult expedition had, against all probability, terminated happily; the information he had gained was important; all then was for the best, and he inwardly congratulated himself, not on the manner in which he had conducted this perilous affair, but on the pleasure that his return would give his companions.

He then prepared himself, and again set out on his journey with a step as free and as light as if he had not supported superhuman fatigues.

The sun was setting at the moment when the captain reached the summit of the hill.

As soon as his return became known, all his companions pressed around him with cries of joy, which awakened the marquis, and caused him to run out.

The captain uttered an exclamation of surprise and of grief, at the scene which presented itself to his eyes when he found himself within the enclosure of the camp.

The tents and vehicles had been reduced to ashes; the greater part of the mules, and a great number of the horses, had been killed; seven or eight corpses of hunters and Negroes were lying here and there on the ground; trees, half-burnt and lying in a confused mass, added still more to the horror of this spectacle.

Doña Laura, having taken refuge, as well as she was able, under an enramada,⁸ exposed to the wind, and crouched sorrowfully before a dying fire, was preparing, with the aid of Phoebe, the evening meal.

In fact, everything presented an aspect of ruin and desolation.

"Mon Dieu! What does all this mean?" cried he with grief.

"It means," answered the marquis, bitterly, "that you were not wrong, Diogo."

"But has there, then, been a fight during my absence?"

"No; there has been a surprise; but come, Diogo, a moment with you privately, and I will explain what has happened."

The captain followed him.

When they were out of sight of the Brazilians, the marquis commenced his narrative.

Two hours after the departure of Diogo, a shower of burning arrows had rained suddenly on the camp from all sides at once, and that in so desperate a way that at first the Brazilians did not know where to run, or in what manner to defend themselves. The fire had almost immediately burst out with such an intensity that it was impossible to extinguish it; a burning arrow having, unhappily, fallen in the waggon which contained the powder, the vehicle was blown up, killing and wounding several men.

The Guaycurus had profited by the fright of the Brazilians, to attempt a furious assault, during which the remainder of the munitions had been almost wholly expended.

Diogo sadly shook his head at this painful narrative; then he commenced his own, which his companion listened to with profound attention.

When he had finished, there was a momentary pause.

"What do you recommend?" at last asked the marquis.

"The situation is almost desperate," decisively answered the captain. "The most prudent course, in my opinion, would be to try a sortie; to try and open a passage for ourselves."

"Yes," murmured the marquis, aside, "perhaps that would be better; but I wish to wait a bit. I have dispatched a scout to gain information about the enemy."

"You alone are master," answered Diogo, who had heard him; "but every minute that passes takes away from us, believe me, several days of our existence."

"Perhaps," violently cried the marquis, stamping with anger; "but we do not know all yet. Can I not try to join Don Joachim Terraira?"

"Certainly, you can, your Excellency."

"Well!" cried he, with joy.

"Well! You will only succeed in causing us all to be massacred the quicker – that is all."

After having uttered these words, the captain turned his back on the marquis, and rejoined his companions.

CHAPTER XIV
DISASTER

The night was tranquil. The Brazilians passed it in sleep. Diogo alone watched over the common safety.

About two hours before sunrise the scout who had been dispatched by the marquis returned to the camp.

He was the bearer of strange news. The Indians had disappeared.

Diogo listened attentively to the report brought by the man. Then turning towards the marquis, who had also passed the night without closing his eyes —

"Well?" asked he.

"It appears to me – " answered the marquis.

"Wait!" interrupted Diogo; "My friend," said he, addressing the scout, "go and lie down; you must want to recruit your strength."

The Brazilian bowed, and immediately withdrew.

"It is not advisable," pursued Diogo, "that this man should hear what we have to say."

"I think that if this news is true, it is excellent."

"Understand well, your Excellency, and be assured that I possess too thorough a knowledge of the Indians and their manners to deceive myself."

"I admit it, my friend. Speak, then, I beg."

"I should think, your Excellency, that I failed in my duty if at the crisis at which we are arrived I did not speak to you with the greatest freedom. The Guaycurus have honourably warned you to withdraw from them – they have given you liberty to do so; wrong or right, you have scorned their warning, I do not dispute with you, understand, your Excellency, the wisdom of this decision."

"Continue, my friend."

"They have so little intention of withdrawing, that they have dispatched me to ask the aid of their allies, the Payagoas. Then they have attacked you with fury, not with the design of seizing on your camp – they knew beforehand that they would not succeed – but to reduce you to your present position; that is to say, to the last gasp."

"Conclude, conclude!" interrupted the marquis.

"The conclusion is easy enough," pursued the captain; "the Guaycurus have pretended to withdraw in order to bring you out into the plain, and to overcome you the more easily."

"Are you then afraid, Diogo?"

"Certainly, my lord: very much afraid."

"You!"

"Pardon; this needs an explanation. I am afraid – not to die, for from the moment you announced to me your formal intention, I reckoned on the sacrifice of my life."

"Then, what is it you mean?"

"I mean, my lord, that I do not fear to die, but that I am dreadfully afraid of being killed like a beast."

Notwithstanding the gravity of the situation, the marquis burst out laughing.

"Bah, bah!" said he; "Things, I am convinced, will turn out better than you suppose."

"I wish so, without hoping it, your Excellency."

"Let us see; you believe you are in a position to guide us to the spot where the Paulistas are at this moment."

"Nothing is more easy than to proceed on the journey, my lord, but I cannot guarantee it."

"How is that?"

"Why, because we shall all be massacred before reaching it."

"Hum, Diogo; you become monotonous, my friend."

"The end will prove me right, my lord."

"Be silent, prophet of bad omen. At what distance do you think we are from the Paulistas?"

"Thirty leagues at the most."

"What! Thirty leagues; no more? Come, you are becoming foolish, with your puerile fears."

"You will see, your Excellency, you will see."

"Well, let it be so; the die is cast, I will try, whatever happens. At break of day we will leave."

"With your permission, my lord, I think that as you absolutely are determined on a foolish thing, would it not be more suitable to do it in a logical way?"

"Which means – "

"That tomorrow will be too late."

"So, in your opinion, it would be necessary – "

"To leave immediately, my lord."

"Well, let it be so; let us set out."

In this circumstance, as in all the preceding, Diogo did not neglect any precaution.

Four of his soldiers, tried and experienced men, were at first dispatched by him in advance.

In the preceding assault the waggons and the baggage had been burnt, and the greater part of the mules had been killed, so that the caravan, relieved of its load, was in a position to accelerate its march.

Diogo caused the horses' feet to be covered with bags of sheepskin, filled with sand, in order to stifle the sound of their steps, and ordered the mouth of each animal to be fastened with a lasso.

"Companions," said he, when each man was in his saddle, "not a cry, not a sound! We are attempting; at the present moment an expedition on which safety depends; if we are discovered we shall be lost."

"One word, Diogo," said the marquis to him. "Why have you insisted on our leaving so suddenly?"

"Because the Indian bravos, your Excellency, ordinarily guard themselves very badly, and pass the night in sleeping instead of watching."

"Thank you; now let us set out."

"One moment, my lord;" and then addressing all the soldiers: —

"I am about to march first," said he; "you will follow me one by one, holding your horses by the bridle to prevent them from stumbling; and thus arousing the attention of the enemy. You will try to march in my steps, in order to leave as narrow a track as possible. Now, pay attention and remember this: – The cry of the alligator will warn you to halt; the same cry twice raised will mean that you are to mount; the cry of the owl will order you to gallop. You thoroughly understand me, do you not?"

The descent commenced. It was a strange spectacle, that offered by this long line of black spectres, which glided silently in the night, and appeared to climb the flanks of the hill.

The noise of a branch broken off by the wind; the falling of a leaf, the unexpected flight of a nocturnal bird – everything was the object of fear; the bravest man felt, in spite of himself, the blood run cold in his veins, for behind each trunk of a tree, each angle of a rock, he feared he should see dart out suddenly the enemy whom he was trying to avoid.

The descent was long; they could but march slowly. Diogo, who appeared to see at night as well as by day, chose his ground with the greatest care, and did not advance except when he was sure that the earth on which he placed his foot was firm.

Sometimes they stopped for a few minutes, and then a shudder of alarm ran like an electric current through the whole line.

At last, at the end of an hour, they reached the plain.

The cry of an alligator which was raised in the silence warned them that they were to halt.

Two minutes later the same cry raised twice caused them to throw themselves in the saddle, and then at last, at the cry of the owl, they darted off at a gallop, doubled in pace by the instinctive fear that they experienced of terrible danger.

The marquis had ordered doña Laura to mount on horseback. The young girl obeyed passively, without uttering a word, and had placed herself, as well as her slave, in the middle of the line of horsemen.

The marquis had wished this because this position appeared to him least dangerous.

During all the night the Brazilians, leaning on the necks of their horses, galloped on.

At sunrise they had made eighteen or nineteen leagues, which was enormous, but the poor horses were spent.

At a league before them the fugitives perceived a broad stream.

It was the Pilcomayo, one of the most considerable affluents of the Rio Paraguai.

The marquis approached the captain.

"We have done wonders, Diogo," said he to him; "thanks to your admirable arrangements, we are saved."

"Do not thank me yet, my lord," answered the Indian, with a mocking smile "all is not yet finished."

"Oho! We have now an advance of our enemies which puts us out of their reach."

"We have gained no advance on the Guaycurus, my lord; our only chance of safety is to reach the river, and to cross it."

"Well! What prevents us from doing so?"

"Look at the horses; before we have got half the distance which separates us from the Pilcomayo, the enemy will be upon us."

"You are thoroughly obstinate to the end; you see yourself that the plain is perfectly clear."

"You think so, my lord?"

"Why, I have looked in vain in every direction."

"That is because you are not used to the prairie, that is all. Look," added he, stretching his arm in the direction of the northeast. "Notice that convulsive undulation of the high grass."

"Just so; but what does that prove?"

"Do you see again," continued the impassable captain, "those companies of nandus and of seriemas who run madly in all directions. Those flights of guaros and of kamichis?"

"Yes, yes, I see all that; well?"

"Well! Well, your Excellency, the undulation of the grass without apparent cause, since there is not a breath of air stirring, the mad course of the nandus and the seriemas, and the frightened flight of the guaros and the kamichis, simply mean that the Guaycurus are on our track."

"But in an hour we shall have crossed the river."

"With our horses that is impossible; it is with difficulty that they can put one foot before the other."

"That is true," murmured the marquis, "but then what is to be done?"

"Prepare ourselves to die."

"Oh, that is not true that you say, Diogo."

"In an hour not one of us will exist," coolly answered the captain.

"But we shall not allow ourselves to be assassinated without defending ourselves?"

"That is another question, my lord. Will you fight to the last gasp?"

"Certainly."

"Very well. We shall be killed, I am certain, but the victory will cost our enemies dearly."

Without losing a moment, the captain made his arrangements for the combat.

The Brazilians jumped to the ground, cut the throats of their horses, and with the bodies of the unhappy animals they formed a circle.

The marquis, occupied at this time in speaking with animation to doña Laura, did not perceive this butchery, till it was too late to oppose it.

"What are you doing?" cried he.

"Entrenchments," impassively answered Diogo. "Behind these bodies we shall shelter ourselves."

"But how, then, shall we fly after the combat?"

The Indian burst into a nervous and discordant laugh.

"We shall not fly, inasmuch as we shall be dead."

The marquis could find nothing to answer.

Doña Laura had thrown herself on the ground, a prey to profound despair. Her horse was the only one that had not been killed.

"You are about to die," said Don Roque.

"I hope so," answered she, with a low and broken voice.

"You thoroughly hate me, then?"

"There is not in my heart place for hatred; I despise you."

"Doña Laura," he pursued, "there is yet time. Reveal to me your secret."

"Why should I do so?" she said.

"Curses!" cried he, stamping with rage. "This woman is a demon. Will nothing, then, convince you? Of what use to you now would be the possession of that secret?"

"And to you?" she coldly asked.

"Tell me, tell me, and I swear to you I will save you, even if to do so I should have to walk in blood up to the knees. Tell me, Doña Laura, I entreat you."

"No! I prefer to die, than to be saved by you."

"Die, then, and be cursed!" cried the marquis, seizing a pistol from his girdle.

A hand arrested his arm.

He turned round, darting a fierce look at him who had dared to touch him.

"Excuse me, your Excellency," said Diogo to him, still impassable, "if I interrupt your interesting conversation with the señorita."

Doña Laura had not made a movement to escape death. Death for her would have been a deliverance.

"What do you want with me?" cried the marquis.

"To announce to you, my lord, that the moment is near. Look!"

The marquis looked.

"Why, wretch!" cried he, after a moment, "If you are not a traitor, you are grossly deceived."

"As you please, my lord."

"It is a manada of wild horses."

"Exactly so, my lord," answered the captain, with a smile of disdain; "you have not the least experience of the style in which the Guaycurus fight, nor of life in the desert. This is probably the last thing I shall teach you, but it is well you should know it. The Guaycurus are the best horsemen in the world. This is the ruse they employ to surprise the enemy. They send in advance a troop of wild horses, in order to conceal their number; then in the rear they follow, lying on their sides on their horses, the left hand on the mane, and the right foot supported by the stirrup."

We have said that all the Brazilians were lying behind the bodies of their horses, ready to fire at the word of command.

About them the vultures and the urubus, attracted by the smell of blood, were wheeling in large circles, uttering harsh and discordant cries.

At a half league off, on the plain, a herd of horses was running with extreme rapidity.

The Brazilians were sorrowful and silent; they believed themselves lost.

"Boys," cried Diogo, "spare your munitions; do not fire but when you are sure. You know that we have no more powder."

All of a sudden the wild horses came down like a thunderbolt on the entrenchments, and notwithstanding a murderous discharge close to their breasts, leaped them with an irresistible spring.

The Guaycurus warriors leaped to their saddles, uttering frightful cries, and the massacre commenced.

In the first rank, near Tarou Niom, was Malco Diaz.

The eyes of the half-caste flashed with excitement. He dashed with extraordinary fury into the thickest of the mêlée.

By a movement – rather from instinct than by calculation – the Brazilians, after their entrenchments had been carried, had grouped themselves round Laura.

The young girl, kneeling on the ground, her hands clasped, was praying with fervour.

Poor Phoebe, her breast pierced by a lance, was writhing at her feet, in the last convulsions of agony.

There was something really grand in the spectacle offered by some twenty men or so, motionless, silent, keeping close together, and struggling desperately against a multitude of enemies; having made the sacrifice of their lives, but resolved to fight to the last gasp, and only to fall when dead.

Diogo and the marquis achieved prodigies of valour – the Indian with a supreme contempt of death, the white man with the rage of despair.

"Now, your Excellency," said the captain, mockingly, "do you still believe we shall be saved?"

Meanwhile the ranks of the Brazilians were being thinned more and more.

On a sudden Malco Diaz bounded in advance, overturned the marquis, and seizing doña Laura by the hair, he lifted her up, threw her on the neck of his horse, and darted off across the desert.

The young girl uttered a terrible cry, and fainted.

This cry Diogo had heard. The captain leaped over the body of the marquis, and overturning everything before him, rushed off in pursuit.

But what can a man on foot do against a horseman riding at full speed?

Malco Diaz stopped, a flash of fury darted from his eyes, and he shouldered his gun.

"It is my last charge," murmured Diogo; "it shall be for her." And he fired.

Malco Diaz immediately staggered, his arms were thrown up convulsively, and he rolled on the ground, dragging the young girl in his fall.

He was dead.

Diogo darted towards him, but suddenly he made a bound on one side, and taking his gun by the barrel, he raised it above his head. An Indian was coming down upon him, but the former, immediately changing his position, bounded like a jaguar, clasped in his powerful arms the Indian who pursued him, overthrew him, and at the same moment put himself in the saddle in the Indian's place.

This prodigy of skill and agility accomplished, he flew to the aid of the young girl.

Scarcely had he raised her in his arms to put her on the horse, which he had so miraculously appropriated, than the Guaycurus warriors surrounded him.

Diogo cast a sorrowful look at the young girl, whom he placed on the ground, and drawing from his girdle his pistols, the only arms he had left —

"Poor child," murmured he; "I have done what I could. Fate is against me. I will certainly kill two more of them before dying," he said, coolly loading his pistols.

Suddenly the ranks of the warriors opened. Tarou Niom appeared.

"Let no one touch that man and woman," he said.

"Come, that will be for another time," said the captain, replacing his pistols in his girdle.

"You are brave; I love you," resumed Tarou Niom; "take that jni-maak (feather); it will serve you for a safeguard. Remain here until I return."

Diogo took the feather, and sat down sadly near the young girl.

An hour later the captain and doña Laura were accompanying the Guaycurus warriors, who were returning to their village.

The young girl was still in a fainting condition, and did not yet know the full extent of the new misfortune which had fallen upon her.

Diogo carried her on the neck of his horse, and carefully upheld her. The brave captain appeared already if not resigned, completely consoled for his defeat, and talked amicably with the captain, Tarou Niom, who manifested so much regard for him.

Diogo and the young girl alone had survived by a miracle, which had excited a feeling of pity in the ferocious heart of the Guaycurus chief.

As to the Marquis de Castelmelhor, no one knew what had become of him. Notwithstanding the most active search, it had been impossible to find his body.

Was he dead? Was be living? And had he, against all probability, succeeded in escaping?