Майн Рид
The Scalp Hunters
Several times we grappled, and would have pushed each other over; but the fear that each felt of being dragged after mutually restrained us, and we let go, and trusted again to our tomahawks.
Not a word passed between us. We had nothing to say, even could we have understood each other. But we had no boast to make, no taunt to urge, nothing before our minds but the fixed dark purpose of murdering one another!
After the first onset the Indian had ceased yelling, and we both fought in the intense earnestness of silence.
There were sounds, though: an occasional sharp exclamation, our quick, high breathing, the clinking of our tomahawks, the neighing of our horses, and the continuous roar of the torrent. These were the symphonies of our conflict.
For some minutes we battled upon the ledge. We were both cut and bruised in several places, but neither of us had as yet received or inflicted a mortal wound.
At length, after a continuous shower of blows, I succeeded in beating my adversary back, until we found ourselves out upon the platform. There we had ample room to wind our weapons, and we struck with more energy than ever. After a few strokes, our tomahawks met, with a violent concussion, that sent them flying from our hands.
Neither dared stoop to regain his weapon; and we rushed upon each other with naked arms, clutched, wrestled a moment, and then fell together to the earth. I thought my antagonist had a knife. I must have been mistaken, otherwise he would have used it; but without it, I soon found that in this species of encounter he was my master. His muscular arms encircled me until my ribs cracked under the embrace. We rolled along the ground, over and over each other. Oh, God! we were nearing the edge of the precipice.
I could not free myself from his grasp. His sinewy fingers were across my throat. They clasped me tightly around the trachea, stopping my breath. He was strangling me.
I grew weak and nerveless. I could resist no longer. I felt my hold relax. I grew weaker and weaker. I was dying. I was – I – Oh, Heaven! pard – on. Oh – !
I could not have been long insensible; for when consciousness returned I was still warm, sweating from the effects of the struggle, and my wounds were bleeding freshly and freely. I felt that I yet lived. I saw that I was still upon the platform; but where was my antagonist? Why had not he finished me? Why had not he flung me over the cliff?
I rose upon my elbow and looked around. I could see no living things but my own horse and that of the Indian galloping over the platform, kicking and plunging at each other.
But I heard sounds, sounds of fearful import, like the hoarse, angry worrying of dogs, mingling with the cries of a human voice – a voice uttered in agony!
What could it mean? I saw that there was a break in the platform, a deep cut in the rock; and out of this the sounds appeared to issue.
I rose to my feet, and, tottering towards the spot, looked in. It was an awful sight to look upon. The gully was some ten feet in depth; and at its bottom, among the weeds and cacti, a huge dog was engaged in tearing something that screamed and struggled. It was a man, an Indian. All was explained at a glance. The dog was Alp; the man was my late antagonist!
As I came upon the edge, the dog was on the top of his adversary, and kept himself uppermost by desperate bounds from side to side, still dashing the other back as he attempted to rise to his feet. The savage was crying in despair. I thought I saw the teeth of the animal fast in his throat, but I watched the struggle no longer. Voices from behind caused me to turn round. My pursuers had reached the cañon, and were urging their animals along the ledge.
I staggered to my horse, and, springing upon his back, once more directed him to the terrace – that part which led outward. In a few minutes I had cleared the cliff and was hurrying down the mountain. As I approached its foot I heard a rustling in the bushes that on both sides lined the path. Then an object sprang out a short distance behind me. It was the Saint Bernard.
As he came alongside he uttered a low whimper and once or twice wagged his tail. I knew not how he could have escaped, for he must have waited until the Indians reached the platform; but the fresh blood that stained his jaws, and clotted the shaggy hair upon his breast, showed that he had left one with but little power to detain him.
On reaching the plain I looked back. I saw my pursuers coming down the face of the sierra; but I had still nearly half a mile of start, and, taking the snowy mountain for my guide, I struck out into the open prairie.
Chapter Fifty Four.
An Unexpected Rencontre
As I rode off from the mountain foot, the white peak glistened at a distance of thirty miles. There was not a hillock between: not a brake or bush, excepting the low shrubs of the artemisia.
It was not yet noon. Could I reach the snowy mountain before sunset? If so, I trusted in being able to follow our old trail to the mine. Thence, I might keep on to the Del Norte, by striking a branch of the Paloma or some other lateral stream. Such were my plans, undefined as I rode forth.
I knew that I should be pursued almost to the gates of El Paso; and, when I had ridden forward about a mile, a glance to the rear showed me that the Indians had just reached the plain, and were striking out after me.
It was no longer a question of speed. I knew that I had the heels of their whole cavalcade. Did my horse possess the “bottom”?
I knew the tireless, wiry nature of the Spanish mustang; and their animals were of that race. I knew they could gallop for a long day without breaking down, and this led me to fear for the result.
Speed was nothing now, and I made no attempt to keep it up. I was determined to economise the strength of my steed. I could not be overtaken so long as he lasted; and I galloped slowly forward, watching the movements of my pursuers, and keeping a regular distance ahead of them.
At times I dismounted to relieve my horse, and ran alongside of him. My dog followed, occasionally looking up in my face, and seemingly conscious why I was making such a hurried journey.
During all the day I was never out of sight of the Indians; in fact, I could have distinguished their arms and counted their numbers at any time. There were in all about a score of horsemen. The stragglers had gone back, and only the well-mounted men now continued the pursuit.
As I neared the foot of the snowy peak, I remembered there was water at our old camping-ground in the pass; and I pushed my horse faster, in order to gain time to refresh both him and myself. I intended to make a short halt, and allow the noble brute to breathe himself and snatch a bite of the bunch-grass that grew around the spring. There was nothing to fear so long as his strength held out, and I knew that this was the plan to sustain it.
It was near sundown as I entered the defile. Before riding in among the rocks I looked back. During the last hour I had gained upon my pursuers. They were still at least three miles out upon the plain, and I saw that they were toiling on wearily.
I fell into a train of reflection as I rode down the ravine. I was now upon a known trail. My spirits rose; my hopes, so long clouded over, began to assume a brightness and buoyancy, greater from the very influence of reaction. I should still be able to rescue my betrothed. My whole energies, my fortune, my life, would be devoted to this one object. I would raise a band stronger than ever Seguin had commanded. I should get followers among the returning employés of the caravan; teamsters whose term of service had expired. I would search the posts and mountain rendezvous for trappers and hunters. I would apply to the Mexican Government for aid, in money – in troops. I would appeal to the citizens of El Paso, of Chihuahua, of Durango.
“Ge-hosaphat! Hyur’s a fellur ridin’ ’ithout eyther saddle or bridle!”
Five or six men with rifles sprang out from the rocks, surrounding me.
“May an Injun eat me ef ’tain’t the young fellur as tuk me for a grizzly! Billee! look hyur! hyur he is! the very fellur! He! he! he! He! he! he!”
“Rube! Garey!”
“What! By Jove, it’s my friend Haller! Hurrah! Old fellow, don’t you know me?”
“Saint Vrain!”
“That it is. Don’t I look like him? It would have been a harder task to identify you but for what the old trapper has been telling us about you. But come! how have you got out of the hands of the Philistines?”
“First tell me who you all are. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, we’re a picket! The army is below.”
“The army?”
“Why, we call it so. There’s six hundred of us; and that’s about as big an army as usually travels in these parts.”
“But who? What are they?”
“They are of all sorts and colours. There’s the Chihuahuanos and Passenos, and niggurs, and hunters, and trappers, and teamsters. Your humble servant commands these last-named gentry. And then there’s the band of your friend Seguin – ”
“Seguin! Is he – ”
“What? He’s at the head of all. But come! they’re camped down by the spring. Let us go down. You don’t look overfed; and, old fellow, there’s a drop of the best Paso in my saddle-bags. Come!”
“Stop a moment! I am pursued.”
“Pursued!” echoed the hunters, simultaneously raising their rifles, and looking up the ravine.
“How many?”
“About twenty.”
“Are they close upon you?”
“No.”
“How long before we may expect them?”
“They are three miles back, with tired horses, as you may suppose.”
“Three-quarters – halt an hour at any rate. Come! we’ll have time to go down and make arrangements for their reception. Rube! you with the rest can remain here. We shall join you before they get forward. Come, Haller! – come!”
Following my faithful and warm-hearted friend, I rode on to the spring. Around it I found “the army”; and it had somewhat of that appearance, for two or three hundred of the men were in uniform. These were the volunteer guards of Chihuahua and El Paso.
The late raid of the Indians had exasperated the inhabitants, and this unusually strong muster was the consequence. Seguin, with the remnant of his band, had met them at El Paso, and hurried them forward on the Navajo trail. It was from him Saint Vrain had heard of my capture; and in hopes of rescuing me had joined the expedition with about forty or fifty employés of the caravan.
Most of Seguin’s band had escaped after the fight in the barranca, and among the rest, I was rejoiced to hear, El Sol and La Luna. They were now on their return with Seguin, and I found them at his tent.
Seguin welcomed me as the bearer of joyful news. They were still safe. That was all I could tell him, and all he asked for during our hurried congratulation.
We had no time for idle talk. A hundred men immediately mounted and rode up the ravine. On reaching the ground occupied by the picket, they led their horses behind the rocks, and formed an ambuscade. The order was, that all the Indians must be killed or taken.
The plan hastily agreed upon was, to let them pass the ambushed men, and ride on until they had got in sight of the main body; then both divisions were to close upon them.
It was a dry ravine above the spring, and the horses had made no tracks upon its rocky bed. Moreover, the Indians, ardent in their pursuit of me, would not be on the outlook for any sign before reaching the water. Should they pass the ambuscade, then not a man of them would escape, as the defile on both sides was walled in by a precipice.
After the others had gone, about a hundred men at the spring leaped into their saddles, and sat with their eyes bent up the pass.
They were not long kept waiting. A few minutes after the ambuscade had been placed, an Indian showed himself round an angle of the rock, about two hundred yards above the spring. He was the foremost of the warriors, and must have passed the ambushed horsemen; but as yet the latter lay still. Seeing a body of men, the savage halted with a quick jerk; and then, uttering a cry, wheeled and rode back upon his comrades. These, imitating his example, wheeled also; but before they had fairly turned themselves in the ravine, the “cached” horsemen sprang out in a body from the rocks and came galloping down.
The Indians, now seeing that they were completely in the trap, with overpowering numbers on both sides of them, threw down their spears and begged for mercy.
In a few minutes they were all captured. The whole affair did not occupy half an hour; and, with our prisoners securely tied, we returned to the spring.
The leading men now gathered around Seguin to settle on some plan for attacking the town. Should we move on to it that night?
I was asked for my advice, and of course answered, “Yes! the sooner the better, for the safety of the captives.”
My feelings, as well as those of Seguin, could not brook delay. Besides, several of our late comrades were to die on the morrow. We might still be in time to save them.
How were we to approach the valley?
This was the next point to be discussed.
The enemy would now be certain to have their videttes at both ends, and it promised to be clear moonlight until morning. They could easily see such a large body approaching from the open plain. Here then was a difficulty.
“Let us divide,” said one of Seguin’s old band; “let a party go in at each end. That’ll git ’em in the trap.”
“Wagh!” replied another, “that would never do. Thar’s ten miles o’ rough wood thar. If we raised the niggurs by such a show as this, they’d take to them, gals and all, an’ that’s the last we’d see o’ them.”
This speaker was clearly in the right. It would never do to make our attack openly. Stratagem must again be used.
A head was now called into the council that soon mastered the difficulty, as it had many another. That was the skinless, earless head of the trapper Rube.
“Cap,” said he, after a short delay, “’ee needn’t show yur crowd till we’ve first took the luk-outs by the eend o’ the kenyun.”
“How can we take them?” inquired Seguin.
“Strip them twenty niggurs,” replied Rube, pointing to our captives, “an’ let twenty o’ us put on their duds. Then we kin take the young fellur – him hyur as tuk me for the grizzly! He! he! he! Ole Rube tuk for a grizzly! We kin take him back a pris’ner. Now, cap, do ’ee see how?”
“You would have these twenty to keep far in the advance then, capture the videttes, and wait till the main body comes up?”
“Sartinly; thet’s my idee adzactly.”
“It is the best, the only one. We shall follow it.” And Seguin immediately ordered the Indians to be stripped of their dresses. These consisted mostly of garments that had been plundered from the people of the Mexican towns, and were of all cuts and colours.
“I’d recommend ’ee, cap,” suggested Rube, seeing that Seguin was looking out to choose the men for his advance party, “I’d recommend ’ee to take a smart sprinklin’ of the Delawars. Them Navaghs is mighty ’cute and not easily bamfoozled. They mout sight white skin by moonlight. Them o’ us that must go along ’ll have to paint Injun, or we’ll be fooled arter all; we will.”
Seguin, taking this hint, selected for the advance most of the Delaware and Shawano Indians; and these were now dressed in the clothes of the Navajoes. He himself, with Rube, Garey, and a few other whites, made up the required number. I, of course, was to go along and play the role of a prisoner.
The whites of the party soon accomplished their change of dress, and “painted Injun,” a trick of the prairie toilet well known to all of them.
Rube had but little change to make. His hue was already of sufficient deepness for the disguise, and he was not going to trouble himself by throwing off the old shirt or leggings. That could hardly have been done without cutting both open, and Rube was not likely to make such a sacrifice of his favourite buckskins. He proceeded to draw the other garments over them, and in a short time was habited in a pair of slashing calzoneros, with bright buttons from the hip to the ankle. These, with a smart, tight-fitting jacket that had fallen to his share, and a jaunty sombrero cocked upon his head, gave him the air of a most comical dandy. The men fairly yelled at seeing him thus metamorphosed, and old Rube himself grinned heartily at the odd feelings which the dress occasioned him.
Before the sun had set, everything was in readiness, and the advance started off. The main body, under Saint Vrain, was to follow an hour after. A few men, Mexicans, remained by the spring, in charge of the Navajo prisoners.
Chapter Fifty Five.
The Rescue
We struck directly across the plain for the eastern entrance of the valley. We reached the cañon about two hours before day. Everything turned out as we had anticipated. There was an outpost of five Indians at the end of the pass, but we had stolen upon them unawares, and they were captured without the necessity of our firing a shot.
The main body came up soon after, and preceded by our party as before, passed through the cañon. Arriving at the border of the woods nearest the town, we halted, and concealed ourselves among the trees.
The town was glistening in the clear moonlight, and deep silence was over the valley. There were none stirring at so early an hour, but we could descry two or three dark objects down by the river. We knew them to be the sentinels that stood over our captive comrades. The sight was gratifying, for it told us they still lived. They little dreamed, poor fellows! how near was the hour of their deliverance. For the same reasons that had influenced us on a former occasion, the attack was not to be made until daybreak; and we waited as before, but with a very different prospect. There were now six hundred warriors in the town – about our own number; and we knew that a desperate engagement was before us. We had no fear as to the result; but we feared that the vengeful savages might take it into their heads to despatch their captives while we fought. They knew that to recover these was our main object, and, if themselves defeated, that would give them the satisfaction of a terrible vengeance.
All this we knew was far from improbable; but to guard against the possibility of such an event, every precaution was to be taken.
We were satisfied that the captive women were still in the temple. Rube assured us that it was their universal custom to keep new prisoners there for several days after their arrival, until they were finally distributed among the warriors. The queen, too, dwelt in this building.
It was resolved, then, that the disguised party should ride forward, conducting me, as their prisoner, by the first light; and that they should surround the temple, and by a clever coup secure the white captives. A signal then given on the bugle, or the first shot fired, was to bring the main body forward at a gallop.
This was plainly the best plan, and having fully arranged its details, we waited the approach of the dawn.
It was not long in coming. The moonlight became mixed with the faint rays of the aurora, and objects were seen more distinctly. As the milky quartz caught the hues of morning, we rode out of our cover, and forward over the plain. I was apparently tied upon my horse, and guarded between two of the Delawares.
On approaching the town we saw several men upon the roofs. They ran to and fro, summoning others out, and large groups began to appear along the terraces. As we came nearer we were greeted with shouts of congratulation.
Avoiding the streets, we pushed directly for the temple at a brisk trot. On arriving at its base we suddenly halted, flung ourselves from our horses, and climbed the ladders. There were many women upon the parapets of the building. Among these Seguin recognised his daughter, the queen. She was at once secured and forced into the inside. The next moment I held my betrothed in my arms, while her mother was by our side. The other captives were there; and, without waiting to offer any explanation, we hurried them all within the rooms, and guarded the doors with our pistols.
The whole manoeuvre had not occupied two minutes but before its completion a wild cry announced that the ruse was detected. Vengeful yells rang over the town; and the warriors, leaping down from their houses, ran towards the temple.
Arrows began to hurtle around us; but above all other sounds pealed the notes of the bugle, summoning our comrades to the attack.
Quick upon the signal they were seen debouching from the woods and coming down at a gallop.
When within two hundred yards of the houses, the charging horsemen divided into two columns, and wheeled round the town, with the intention of attacking it on both sides.
The Indians hastened to defend the skirts of the village; but in spite of their arrow-flights, which dismounted several, the horsemen closed in, and, flinging themselves from their horses, fought hand to hand among the walls. The shouts of defiance, the sharp ringing of rifles, and the louder reports of the escopettes, soon announced that the battle had fairly begun.
A large party, headed by El Sol and Saint Vrain, had ridden up to the temple. Seeing that we had secured the captives, these too dismounted, and commenced an attack upon that part of the town; clambering up to the houses, and driving out the braves who defended them.
The fight now became general. Shouts and sounds of shots rent the air. Men were seen upon high roofs, face to face in deadly and desperate conflict. Crowds of women, screaming and terrified, rushed along the terraces, or ran out upon the plain, making for the woods. Frightened horses, snorting and neighing, galloped through the streets, and off over the open prairie, with trailing bridles; while others, inclosed in corrals, plunged and broke over the walls. It was a wild scene – a terrific picture!
Through all, I was only a spectator. I was guarding a door of the temple in which were our own friends. My elevated position gave me a view of the whole village, and I could trace the progress of the battle from house to house. I saw that many were falling on both sides, for the savages fought with the courage of despair. I had no fears for the result. The whites, too, had wrongs to redress, and by the remembrance of these were equally nerved for the struggle. In this kind of encounter they had the advantage in arms. It was only on the plains that their savage foes were feared, when charging with their long and death-dealing lances.
As I continued to gaze over the azoteas a terrific scene riveted my attention, and I forgot all others. Upon a high roof two men were engaged in combat fierce and deadly. Their brilliant dresses had attracted me, and I soon recognised the combatants. They were Dacoma and the Maricopa!
The Navajo fought with a spear, and I saw that the other held his rifle clubbed and empty.
When my eye first rested upon them, the latter had just parried a thrust, and was aiming a blow at his antagonist. It fell without effect; and Dacoma, turning quickly, brought his lance again to the charge. Before El Sol could ward it off, the thrust was given, and the weapon appeared to pass through his body!
I involuntarily uttered a cry, as I expected to see the noble Indian fall. What was my astonishment at seeing him brandish his tomahawk over his head, and with a crashing blow stretch the Navajo at his feet!
Drawn down by the impaling shaft, he fell over the body, but in a moment struggled up again, drew the long lance from his flesh, and tottering forward to the parapet, shouted out —
“Here, Luna! Our mother is avenged!”
I saw the girl spring upon the roof, followed by Garey; and the next moment the wounded man sank fainting in the arms of the trapper.
Rube, Saint Vrain, and several others now climbed to the roof, and commenced examining the wound. I watched them with feelings of painful suspense, for the character of this most singular man had inspired me with friendship. Presently Saint Vrain joined me, and I was assured that the wound was not mortal. The Maricopa would live.
The battle was now ended. The warriors who survived had fled to the forest. Shots were heard only at intervals; an occasional shout, the shriek of some savage discovered lurking among the walls.
Many white captives had been found in the town, and were brought in front of the temple, guarded by the Mexicans. The Indian women had escaped to the woods during the engagement. It was well; for the hunters and volunteer soldiery, exasperated by wounds and heated by the conflict, now raged around like furies. Smoke ascended from many of the houses; flames followed; and the greater part of the town was soon reduced to a smouldering ruin.
We stayed all that day by the Navajo village, to recruit our animals and prepare for our homeward journey across the desert. The plundered cattle were collected. Some were slaughtered for immediate use, and the rest placed in charge of vaqueros, to be driven on the hoof. Most of the Indian horses were lassoed and brought in, some to be ridden by the rescued captives, others as the booty of the conquerors. But it was not safe to remain long in the valley. There were other tribes of the Navajoes to the north, who would soon be down upon us. There were their allies, the great nations of the Apaches to the south, and the Nijoras to the west; and we knew that all these would unite and follow on our trail. The object of the expedition was attained, at least as far as its leader had designed it. A great number of captives were recovered, whose friends had long since mourned them as lost for ever. It would be some time before they would renew those savage forays in which they had annually desolated the pueblos of the frontier.
By sunrise of the next day we had repassed the cañon, and were riding towards the snowy mountain.
