Don Pacheco was growing weaker, his face had a.s.sumed an earthy hue, and his eyes could no longer distinguish objects.

"I cannot remember," he sighed rather than said.

"One word, only one, brother."

"Yes, listen--it is Sand--ah!"

He suddenly fell back, uttering a terrible cry, and clutching at his brother's arm; he writhed in a final convulsion, and all was over.

Don Stefano knelt by his brother's corpse, embraced it tenderly, piously closed its eyes, and then got up. He dug a grave with his machete among the smoking ruins of the hacienda, in which he laid his brother's body.

When this sacred duty was performed, he addressed an ardent prayer to the Deity in behalf of the sinful man who was about to appear before His judgment seat, and then, stretching out his arms over the grave, he said in a loud, distinct voice--

"Sleep in peace, brother, sleep in peace. I promise you a glorious revenge."

Don Stefano slowly descended the hill, found his horse, which had spent the night in nibbling the young tree shoots, and started at a gallop, after giving a parting glance to these ruins, under which all his happiness lay buried.

No one ever heard of Don Stefano again in Texas: was he dead too, without taking that vengeance which he had sworn to achieve? No one could say. The Americans had also disappeared since that awful night and left no sign. In these primitive countries things are soon forgotten: life pa.s.ses away there so rapidly, and is so full of strange incidents, that the events of the morrow obliterate the remembrances of those of the eve. Ere long the population of Texas had completely forgotten this terrible catastrophe.

Every year, however, a man appeared on the hill where the hacienda once stood, whose ruins the luxuriant vegetation of the country had long ago overgrown; this man seated himself on the silent ruins, and pa.s.sed the whole night with his face buried in his hands.

"What did he there?"

"Whence did he come?"

"Who was he?"

These three questions ever remained unanswered, for at daybreak the stranger rode off again, not to return till the following year on the anniversary of the frightful tragedy. One strange fact was proved however, after every visit paid by this man--one, two, or even sometimes three horribly mutilated human heads were found lying on the hill.

What demoniac task was this incomprehensible being performing? Was it Don Stefano pursuing his vengeance?

We shall probably see presently.

CHAPTER XXII.

EXPLANATORY.

We are compelled to retrograde a short distance in our story, in order to explain to the reader the arrival of that help which in an instant altered the face of the fight, and saved Valentine and his friends from captivity, probably from death.

Unicorn carefully watched the movements of Red Cedar and his band; since the Pirate's arrival on the desert he had not once let him out of sight.

Hidden in the chaparral on the riverbank, he had been an unseen spectator of the bandit's fight with the hunters; but, with that caution which forms the basis of the Indian character, he had left his friends perfect liberty to act as they thought proper, with the design of interfering when necessary.

When he saw the Pirates disarmed, and reduced to his last shifts, he considered it useless to follow him longer, and proceeded in the direction of his village, to a.s.semble his warriors, and go at their head to attack the camp of the scalp hunters.

The Comanche chief was alone with his squaw, from whom he scarcely ever separated; they were both galloping along the bank of the Gila, being careful to hide themselves among the brushwood, when suddenly deafening cries, mingled with shots, and the hasty gallop of a horse, struck his ears.

Unicorn made his companion a signal to halt, and dismounted; then, cautiously crawling among the trees, he glided like a serpent through the tall gra.s.s to the skirt of the chaparral which sheltered him. On reaching this point he cautiously rose on his knees and looked out.

A man, bearing a fainting woman across his saddle-bow, was coming up at full speed; in the distance several Indian warriors, doubtless wearied of an useless pursuit, were slowly retiring, while the fugitive rapidly drew nearer Unicorn.

The chief perceived at the first glance that he was a white. On arriving within a short distance of the spot where he lay in ambush, the newcomer looked round several times nervously; then he dismounted, took the female in his arms, laid her tenderly on the gra.s.s, and ran to the river to fill his hat with water. It was Harry, the Canadian hunter, and the female was Ellen.

So soon as he had gone off, Unicorn started from his hiding place, giving his wife a sign to follow him, and both approached the maiden, who was lying senseless on the ground. Sunbeam knelt by the side of the American girl, gently raised her head, and began paying her those delicate attentions of which women alone possess the secret. Almost immediately after, Harry ran up; but at the sight of the Indian he hurriedly dropped his hat, and drew a pistol from his girdle.

"Wah!" Unicorn said quickly, "My pale brother need not pull out his weapons--I am a friend."

"A friend?" Harry replied, ill-humouredly; "Can a redskin warrior be the friend of a white man?"

The chief crossed his arms on his broad chest, and boldly walked up to the hunter.

"I was hidden ten paces from you," he said; "had I been an enemy, the paleface would have been dead ere now."

The Canadian shook his head.

"That is possible," he said; "may heaven grant that you speak frankly, for the struggle I have gone through in saving this poor girl has so exhausted me that I could not defend her against you."

"Good!" the Indian continued, "She has nothing to fear; Unicorn is chief of his nation, when he gives his word he must be believed."

And he honestly offered his hand to the hunter. The latter hesitated for a moment, then suddenly forming a resolution, he cordially pressed the hand, saying--

"I believe you, chief; your name is known to me; you have the reputation of a wise man and brave warrior, so I trust to you; but I implore you to help me in recovering this unhappy girl."

Sunbeam gently raised her head, and gave the hunter a glance of tender sympathy, as she said in her harmonious voice--

"The pale virgin runs no danger, in a few minutes she will come to herself again; my brother may be at his ease."

"Thanks, thanks, young woman," the Canadian said, warmly; "the hope you give me fills me with joy; I can now think about avenging my poor d.i.c.k."

"What does my brother mean?" the chief asked, surprised at the flash of fury from the hunter's dark eye.

The latter, rea.s.sured as to the state of his companion, and attracted by the open and honest reception the Indian gave him, did not hesitate to confide to him not only what had occurred to himself, but also the causes which had brought him into this deserted country.

"Now," he said in the close, "I have only one desire--to place this girl in security, and then avenge my friend."

The Indian has listened unmoved and without interruption to the hunter's long story. When he had finished he seemed to reflect for some minutes, and then answered the Canadian, as he laid his hand on his shoulder--

"Then my brother wishes to take vengeance on the Apaches?"

"Yes!" the hunter exclaimed; "So soon as this girl is in a safe place I will go on their trail."

"Ah!" the Indian said, as he shook his head, "One man cannot fight with fifty."

"I do not care for the number of my enemies so long as I can come up with them."

Unicorn gave the daring young man an admiring glance.