The Indian Chief. Gustave Aimard
he said, with the harsh accent of a man aroused at the pleasantest moment of a dream, "what do you want of me, Don Cornelio? Could you not select a more favourable moment to talk with me, for I suppose what you have to say to me is not extremely important?"
Don Cornelio (for it was really that gentleman who awoke Valentine) laid his finger on his mouth, while looking suspiciously around, as if to recommend caution to the hunter; then he leant over his ear.
"Pardon me, Don Valentine," he said; "but I believe that the communication I have to make to you is of the utmost importance."
Valentine sprang up as if moved by a spring, and looked the Spaniard in the face.
"What is the matter, then?" he asked in a low and concentrated voice, which, however, had something imperious about it.
"I will tell you in two words. Colonel Florés (whose face, by the way, does not at all please me) has been doing nothing but prowl round the mission since the morning, inquiring what has been done and left undone, gossiping with one or the other, and trying, above all, to discover the opinion of our men as regards the chief. There was not much harm in that, perhaps, but, so soon as he saw you were asleep, he learnt that the count, who was engaged with his correspondence, had given orders that he should not be disturbed for some hours. Upon this he pretended, to retire to a half-ruined cabin situated at the outskirts of the mission; but a few minutes after, when he supposed that no one was thinking about him, instead of taking a siesta as he had given out, he slipped away from the hut among the trees like a man afraid of being surprised, and disappeared in the forest."
"Ah, ah!" Valentine said thoughtfully, "what interest can that man have in absenting himself so secretly?" Then he added, "Has he been gone long?"
"Hardly ten minutes."
Valentine rose.
"Remain here," he said. "In case the colonel returns during my absence, watch him carefully; but do not let him suspect anything. I thank you for not having hesitated to wake me. The matter is serious."
Then, breaking off the conversation, the hunter quitted Don Cornelio, and gliding along under the shadow of the ruins, so as to attract no attention, entered the forest. In the meanwhile, Colonel Florés, believing Valentine to be asleep, and knowing that the count was writing, felt no apprehension about being followed. He walked rapidly toward the river, not taking any trouble to hide his footsteps—an imprudence by which the hunter profited, and which placed him at once on the track of the man he was watching.
The colonel soon arrived at the river. The most complete calm prevailed around; the alligators were wallowing in the mud; the flamingoes were fishing negligently: all, in a word, evidenced the absence of man. Still, the colonel had scarce appeared on the bank ere an individual, hanging by his arms from the branch of a tree, descended to the ground scarce a couple of paces from him. At this unexpected apparition the colonel recoiled, stifling a cry of surprise and alarm; but he had not the time to recover from his emotion ere a second individual leaped in the same fashion on the sand. Mechanically Don Francisco raised his eyes to the tree.
"Oh, oh!" the first arrival said with a coarse laugh, "you need not take the trouble to look up there, Garrucholo; no one is left there."
At the name of Garrucholo the colonel shuddered, and attentively examined the two men who had presented themselves in so strange a manner, as they stood motionless before him, and looked at him derisively. The first of the two was a white man, as could be easily recognised at the first glance, in spite of his bronzed complexion, which was almost of the colour of brick. The clothes he wore were exactly like those of the Indians. This interesting personage was armed to the teeth, and held a long rifle in his hand. His comrade was a redskin, painted and armed for war.
"Eh?" the first speaker continued. "I fancy you do not recognise me, boy. By God, you have a short memory!"
This oath, and, above all, the strong accent with which the man expressed himself in Spanish, although he spoke that language fluently, were a ray of light for the colonel.
"El Buitre!" he exclaimed, striking his forehead.
"Come," the other said with a laugh, "I felt certain that you had not forgotten me, compañero."
This, unexpected meeting was anything but agreeable to the colonel; still he considered it prudent not to let it be seen.
"By what accident are you here, then?" he asked.
"And you?" the other answered boldly.
"I! My presence is perfectly natural, and easily to be explained."
"And mine too."
"Ah!"
"Hang it! I am here because you are so."
"Hum!" the colonel said, maintaining a reserve. "Explain that to me, will you?"
"I am quite ready to do so, but the spot is badly selected for talking Come with me."
"I beg your pardon, Buitre, my friend. We are, as you said yourself, old acquaintances."
"Which means?"
"That I doubt you excessively."
The bandit began laughing.
"A confidence that honours me," he said, "and of which I am deserving. Did you find in the mission church the hilt of a dagger with an S engraved on the pommel?"
"Yes."
"Very good. That hilt signified, I think, that you were to take a walk in this quarter?"
"It did."
"Well, the persons with whom you must converse are before you. Do you now understand?"
"Perfectly."
"Then let us have a talk; but as what we have to say only concerns ourselves, and it is unnecessary to mix up in our business people who have no concern with it, we will proceed to a spot where we shall have nothing to fear from indiscreet ears."
"Who the deuce do you expect will surprise you here?"
"No one, probably; but, my esteemed friend, as prudence is the mother of safety, I have become, since our last parting, extraordinarily prudent."
"I'll go wherever you please."
"Come on."
The three men re-entered the forest.
Valentine followed them pace by pace. They did not go far. On arriving a certain distance from the river they stopped at the entrance of a large clearing, in the centre of which rose an enormous block of green rock. The three men clambered up, and, on reaching the top, lay down at their ease on a species of platform.
"There!" El Buitre said, "I believe we can talk here in perfect surety."
Valentine was for an instant rather disappointed at this precaution on the part of the bandits. Still he did not give in. The hunter was accustomed to see material impossibilities arise before him of the same nature as in the present case. After a few seconds' reflection he looked around him with a malicious glance.
"Now to see who is the most cunning," he muttered.
He lay down on the ground. The grass grew tall, green, and close in the clearing; and Valentine began crawling, with a slow and almost imperceptible motion, in the direction of the rocks, passing through the grass without imparting the slightest oscillation to it. After about a quarter of an hour of this manoeuvre the hunter saw his efforts crowned with success; for he reached a spot where it was possible for him to rise, and whence he was enabled to overhear perfectly all that was said on the platform, while himself remaining invisible.
Unfortunately the time he had employed in gaining his observatory prevented him hearing what were probably very important matters. At the moment he began listening El Buitre was the speaker.
"Bah, bah!" he said with that mocking accent peculiar to him, "I answer for success. Even if the French are devils, each of them is not equal to two men.