The White Scalper - Part 21
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Part 21

"Let Blackbird himself answer."

"Yes," the old Chief here said, "I will answer. Black-deer is a great warrior, he has paid a n.o.ble ransom."

"In that case," said the sorcerer, "my son is satisfied?"

"I am satisfied."

There was a momentary silence, during which the sorcerer consulted in a whisper with the Sachems who acted as a.s.sessors. At length he spoke again.

"Black-deer is a great warrior," he said in a loud voice. "I, the medicine man, standing beneath the totem of the tribe, declare, that he has employed the right all renowned warriors possess of seizing their property wherever they may find it. From this moment Bounding Fawn is the squaw of Black-deer, to prepare his food, clean his weapons, carry his burdens, and take care of his war-chargers, and whoever says the contrary speaks falsely! Black-deer has the right to convey Bounding Fawn to his calli, and no one can prevent it; he is empowered, if she deceive him, to cut off her nose and ears. Blackbird will give two female buffalo hides to be hung up in the great medicine lodge."

At this final clause, known beforehand, however, for everything is strictly regulated by the code of etiquette in the matter of marriage, Blackbird made a frightful grimace. It seemed to him hard to part with two of the hides he had received but a few moments previously. But Loyal Heart came to his a.s.sistance, and interposed in a way that brought the smile back to his lips.

"Black-deer," he said in a loud voice, "loves Bounding Fawn, and will only owe her to himself--he alone will pay the tribute to the Wacondah; not two, but four female buffalo hides will be given to the medicine lodge."

He made a sign, and a warrior advanced, bearing the hides across his horse's neck. Loyal Heart took them and offered them to the sorcerer.

"My father will receive these skins," he said; "he will make such use of them as will be most agreeable to the Master of Life."

At this unexpected generosity, the audience burst into shouts of frenzied joy. The sh.e.l.ls, drums, and chichikoues recommenced their infernal noise, and the procession set out again for Blackbird's calli.

The old chief knew too well what he owed to himself, and the son-in-law he had just accepted, not to behave with proper decorum in spite of his avarice. When the procession reached the calli, he therefore said, in a loud voice--

"My brothers and friends, deign to honour with your presence the marriage banquet, and I shall be happy to see you take part in it. My son Black-deer will come, I feel convinced, to give the feast that family appearance which it ought to have."

He had scarce uttered the words, when a great noise was heard. The crowd parted violently, and in the s.p.a.ce left free a horseman appeared, galloping at full speed: he held a woman on his horse's neck with one hand, while with the other he led a filly. At the sight of the horseman, the shouts and applause were redoubled, for everybody recognised Black-deer. On reaching the calli he leapt to the ground without uttering a syllable; then he drew his scalping knife and buried it in the neck of the filly. The poor brute gave a plaintive whining, trembled violently, and sank to the ground. The chief then turned it on its back, ripped open its chest, and tearing out the still quivering heart, he touched Bounding Fawn's forehead with it, while shouting in a voice loud enough to be heard by all the spectators.

"This is my squaw; woe to the man who touches her."

"I am his," the young wife then said.

The official ceremony was over: Black-deer and Bounding Fawn were married according to the rites of Comanche law. All dismounted, and the marriage feast began. The white men, who were not very eager to eat their portion of this Indian meal, composed in great measure of dog, boiled milk, and horse's flesh, had drawn on one side and tried to escape unnoticed. Unfortunately Blackbird and Black-deer watched them, and cut off their retreat; hence they were compelled, whether they liked it or no, to sit down to the banquet.

Tranquil, Loyal Heart, and their comrades made up their minds to the worst, and ate, or pretended to eat, with as good an appet.i.te as the rest of the guests. The repast was prolonged till late in the day; for, though the Comanches do not drink spirits, and have not to fear intoxication, still, like all Indians, they are extraordinarily voracious, and eat till they can swallow no more.

The whites had hard work in declining those provisions, of more or less suspicious appearance, which were constantly offered to do them honour.

Still, thanks to their thorough knowledge of Indian habits, they managed to escape the greater part of the infliction and see out the truly Homeric banquet without much annoyance. At the moment when Loyal Heart and Tranquil rose to retire, Black-deer approached them.

"Where are my brothers going?" he asked.

"To my calli," Loyal Heart replied.

"Good! Black-deer will join them there soon; he has to speak with his brothers on serious matters."

"Let my brother remain with his friends, tomorrow will be time enough."

The Chief frowned.

"My brother Loyal Heart must be careful," he said; "I have to consult with him on matters of the utmost gravity."

The hunter, struck by the Chiefs anxious air, looked at him with alarm.

"What is the matter?" he asked him.

"My brother will know in an hour."

"Very good, Chief; I will await you in my calli."

"Black-deer will come there."

The Chief then withdrew, laying his finger on his lip, and the hunters went off deep in thought.

CHAPTER X.

RETURN TO LIFE.

We are now compelled to go a little way back, and return to one of the princ.i.p.al actors of our story, whom we have too long neglected; we allude to White Scalper. The reader of the "Freebooters" will, doubtless, remember that the terrible combat on the deck of the brig, between Tranquil and the Scalper, was continued in the sea, into which the ferocious old man had been hurled by the negro who followed him.

Quoniam had been in too great a hurry in telling the Canadian of the death of his enemy; it is true, though, that the negro acted in good faith, and really believed he had killed him. The last dagger stab dealt by Quoniam was buried deep in the old man's chest; the wound was so serious that the Scalper immediately left off further resistance; his eyes closed, his nerves relaxed like broken springs; he loosed hold of his enemy, to whom he had hitherto clung, and remained an inert ma.s.s, tossed at the mercy of the waves.

The Negro, exhausted with fatigue and half suffocated, hastened back to the deck of the vessel, persuaded that his enemy was dead; but it was not so. The Scalper had merely lost his senses, and his inanimate body was picked up by a Mexican boat. But, when this boat reached the sh.o.r.e, the crew, on seeing the horrible wounds which covered the stranger's body, his pallor and corpse-like immobility, had, in their turn, fancied him dead, and taking no further trouble about him, threw him back into the sea. Fortunately for the Scalper, at the moment when the crew formed this determination the boat was close to land, so that his body, supported by the waves, was gently deposited on the sand, the lower part remaining submerged, while the head and chest were left dry by the retirement of the waves.

Either through the fresh night air or the oscillating movement the sea imparted to the lower part of his body, within an hour the old man gave a slight start; a sigh heaved his powerful chest, and a few instinctive attempts to change his position clearly showed that this vigorous organisation was struggling energetically against death, and compelling it to retire. At length the wounded man opened his eyes, but profound gloom still enveloped him like a winding sheet. On the other hand, the fatigue produced by the gigantic struggle he had sustained, and the enormous quant.i.ty of blood which had escaped through his wounds, caused him a general weakness, so great, both morally and physically, that it was impossible for the Scalper, not merely to find out where he was, but to remember the circ.u.mstances that had brought him there.

It was in vain that he tried to restore order in his ideas, or bring back his fugitive thoughts; the shock had been too rude; the commotion too strong; in spite of all his efforts he could not succeed in refastening the broken thread of his thoughts. He saw himself, alone, wounded, and abandoned on the seash.o.r.e; he understood instinctively all the horror and desperation of his position; but no gleam of intelligence flashed across his brain to guide him in this fearful chaos. He was angry with himself at the impotence to which he found himself reduced and the impossibility of attempting anything to get only a few yards away from the sea, at the edge of which, he was lying, and which would infallibly swallow him up, if his weakness overcame his will and betrayed his courage.

Then took place on that desolate sh.o.r.e a horrible drama, filled with moving and startling incidents--the wild struggles of a half-dead man striving to reconquer the existence which was ebbing from him, and struggling with savage energy against the death whose fatal hand already pressed heavily upon him. The slightest movement the Scalper attempted occasioned him unheard of sufferings, not only through the numerous wounds, whose lips were filled with sand and gravel, but also because he was compelled to confess to himself that all his efforts would lead to no result, and that, unless a miracle happened, he was infallibly lost.

That miracle, which the wretch did not hope for, the very thought of which could not occur to him, Providence, whose ways are impenetrable, and who often only appears to save a guilty man to inflict on him a more terrible chastis.e.m.e.nt, was preparing to perform at the moment when the wounded man, his strength and energy exhausted, was falling back conquered on the beach, resolved to await coldly that death which he could not avoid.

The Texans had scattered along the beach several parties of Freebooters, who were intended to watch the movements of the Mexican cruisers. These parties were all within hail of each other, and able to a.s.semble at a given point with extreme rapidity. Chance willed it that when the Scalper's body was again thrown into the sea it touched sh.o.r.e not far from a rather large rancho standing close to the beach, and in which the most influential Chiefs of the Texan army were this night a.s.sembled, in prevision of the great events that were preparing. Naturally the approaches to the rancho were carefully guarded, and numerous patrols marched around it in order to ensure the safety of the Chiefs.

One of these patrols had seen the Mexican boats land, and hurried up to drive them off, which they easily effected, as the Mexicans were not at all desirous to begin a fresh fight with enemies whose number and strength they were not acquainted with, and whom they supposed, with some appearance of reason, to be in communication with those rebels with whom they had been fighting an hour previously. When the boats got out to sea again, the Texans began carefully examining the beach, in order to be certain that all their enemies had retired and left n.o.body behind them. The first to discover the Scalper's body summoned his comrades, and soon the wounded man had twenty individuals round him. At the first moment they fancied him dead; the Scalper heard all that was said around him, but was unable to make a move or utter a word. He felt terribly alarmed for a moment; it was when a Freebooter, after bending over and carefully examining him, rose again with the careless remark:

"The poor devil is dead, we have nothing to do but dig a hole in the sand and put him in it, so that the coyotes and vultures may not devour his corpse. Some of you go and fetch the largest stones you can find while we dig a hole here with our machetes; it will soon be over."

At this sentence, p.r.o.nounced in a perfectly calm and careless voice, as if it were the simplest and most natural thing in the world, the Scalper felt a cold perspiration beading at the root of his hair, and a shudder of terror run over his body. He made a tremendous effort to speak or shriek, but it was in vain. He was in that almost cataleptic state in which, although the intellect retains all its lucidity, the body is an inert and insensible ma.s.s which no longer obeys.

"Stay," said another adventurer interposing, and checking by a sign those who were preparing to pick up the stones; "let us not be in such a hurry. This poor wretch is a creature made after G.o.d's own image; although his is in a pitiable state, a breath of life may still be left in him. We shall still be in a position to bury him if we find that he is really dead; but first let us a.s.sure ourselves that any a.s.sistance is in vain."

"Nonsense," the first speaker continued; "Fray Antonio is always like that; were we to listen to him, all the dead would only be wounded, and he would make us lose precious time in giving them useless care.

However, as there is nothing to hurry us at this moment, I ask no better than to try and bring this man round, although he appears to me as dead as a fellow can well be."

"No matter," Fray Antonio answered, "let us try, at any rate."