"Good evening, rather, Father," said I, in English. "I have ridden hard to come up with you, for the last twenty miles."
"From the States?" said the Friar, approaching me, but with no peculiar evidences of pleasure at hearing his native language.
"From your own country, Fra Miguel," said I, boldly--"an Irishman."
"And how are you travelling here?" said he, still preserving his previous air of caution and reserve.
"A mistake of the road!" said I, confidently; for already I had invented my last biographical sketch. "I was on the way to Austin, whither I had despatched my servants and baggage, when accidentally taking the turn to Upper Brazos instead of the lower one, I found myself some twenty miles off my track before I knew of it. I should have turned back when I discovered my error, but that I heard that a Friar, a countryman, too, had just set out towards Bexar. This intelligence at once determined me to continue my way, which I rejoice to find has been so far successful."
To judge from the "Padre"s" face, the pleasure did not appear reciprocal. He looked at me and the wagon alternately, and then he cast his eyes towards the Mexican, who, understanding nothing of English, was evidently holding himself ready for any measures of a hostile character.
"Going to Austin," at last said the Friar. "You are a merchant, then?"
"No," said I, smiling superciliously; "I am a mere traveller for pleasure, my object being to make a tour of the prairies, and by some of the Mexican cities, before my return to Europe."
"Heaven guide and protect you," said he, fervently, with a wave of his hand like leave-taking. "This is not a land to wander in after nightfall. You are well mounted, and a good rider; push on, then, my son, and you "ll reach Bexar before the moon sets."
"If that be your road, Father," said I, "as speed is no object with me, I "d rather join company with you than proceed alone."
"Ahem!" said he, looking confused, "I am going to Bexar, it is true, Senhor; but my journey is of the slowest: the wagon is heavy, and a sick companion whom it contains cannot travel fast. Go, then, "con Dios!" and we may meet again at our journey"s end."
"My mare has got quite enough of it," said I, my desire to remain with him being trebled by his exertions to get rid of me. "When I overtook you, I was determining to dismount and spare my beast; so that _your_ pace will not in the least inconvenience me."
The Padre, instead of replying to me, addressed some words to the Mexican in Spanish, which, whatever they were, the other only answered by a sharp slap of his palm on the stock of his rifle, and a very significant glance at his girdle, where a large bowie-knife glittered in all the freedom of its unsheathed splendor. As if not noticing this pantomime, I drew forth my "Harper"s Ferry pistol" from the holster, and examined the priming,--a little bit of display I had the satisfaction to perceive was not thrown away on either the Friar or the layman. At a word from the former, however, the latter began once again his operations with the pole, the Friar resuming his place beside the cattle as if totally forgetful of my presence there.
"May I ask the object of this proceeding, Father?" said I, "which, unless it be a "devotional exercise," is perfectly unaccountable to me."
The Padre looked at me without speaking; but the sly drollery of his eye showed that he would have had no objection to bandy a jest with me, were the time and place more fitting. "I perceive," said he, at length, "that you have not journeyed in this land, or you would have known that at this season the streams abound with caymans and alligators, and that when the cattle have been once attacked by them, they have no courage to cross a river after. Their instinct, however, teaches them that beating the waters insures safety, and many a Mexican horse will not go knee-deep without this ceremony being performed."
"I see that your cattle are unusually tired in the present case," said I, "for you have been nigh half an hour here, to my own knowledge."
"Look at that black marc"s fore-leg, and you ll see why," said he, pointing to a deep gash, which laid bare the white tendons for some inches in length, while a deep pool of blood flowed around the animal"s hoof.
A cry from the Mexican here broke in upon our colloquy, as, throwing down his pole, he seized his rifle, and dropped upon one knee in the att.i.tude of defence.
"What is it, Sancho?" cried the Friar.
A few words of guttural followed, and the Padre said it was a large alligator that had just carried off a chiguire--a wild pig--under the water with him. This stream is a tributary of the Colloredo, along the banks of which these creatures" eggs are found in thousands!
My blood ran cold at the horrid thought of being attacked by such animals, and I readily volunteered my a.s.sistance at the single-stick exercise of my companion.
The Friar accepted my offer without much graciousness, but rather as that of an unwelcome guest who could not be easily got rid of.
END OF VOL. I.
CHAPTER XXI. A NIGHT IN THE FOREST OF TEXAS
The friar ceased his efforts, and, calling the Mexican to one side, whispered something in a low, cautious manner. The other seemed to demur and hesitate, but, after a brief s.p.a.ce, appeared to yield; when, replacing the poles beside the wagon, he turned the horses" heads towards the road by which they had just come.
"We are about to try a ford some miles farther up the stream," said the Padre, "and so we commend you to the Virgin, and wish you a prosperous journey."
"All roads are alike to me, holy Father," said I, with a coolness that cost me something to a.s.sume.
"Then take the shortest, and you"ll be soonest at your journey"s end,"
said he, gruffly.
"Who can say that?" rejoined I; "it"s no difficult matter to lose one"s way in a dense forest, where the tracks are unknown."
"There is but one path, and it cannot be mistaken," said he, in the same tone.
"It has one great disadvantage, Father," said I.
"What is that?"
"There is no companionship on it; and, to say truth, I have too much of the Irishman in me to leave good company for the pleasure of travelling all alone."
"Methinks you have very little of the Irishman about you, in another respect," said he, with a sneer of no doubtful meaning.
"How so?" said I, eagerly.
"In volunteering your society when it is not sought for, young gentleman," said he, with a look of steadfast effrontery,--"at least, I can say, such were not the habits of the land as I remember it some forty years ago."
"Ah, holy Father, it has grown out of many a barbarous custom since your time: the people have given up drinking and faction-fighting, and you may travel fifty miles a day for a week together and never meet with a friar."
"Peace be with you!" said he, waving his hand, but with a gesture it was easy to see boded more pa.s.sion than patience.
I hesitated for a second what to do; and at last, feeling that another word might perhaps endanger the victory I had won, I dashed spurs into the mare"s flanks, and, with the shout the ostler had recommended, rushed her at the stream. Over she went, "like a bird," lighting on the opposite bank with her hind-legs "well up," and the next moment plunged into the forest.
Scarcely, however, had I proceeded fifty paces than I drew up. The dense wood effectually shut out the river from my view, and even masked the sounds of the rushing water. A suspicion dwelt on my mind that the Friar was _not_ going back, and that he had merely concerted this plan with the Mexican the easier to disembarra.s.s himself of my company. The seeming pertinacity of _his_ purpose suggested an equal obstinacy of resistance on _my_ part. Some will doubtless say that it argued very little pride and a very weak self-esteem in Con Cregan to continue to impose his society where it had been so peremptorily declined; and so had it been, doubtless, had the scene been a great city ruled and regulated by its thousand-and-one conventionalities. But the prairies are separated by something longer than mere miles from the land of kid-gloves and visiting tickets. Ceremonial in such lat.i.tudes would be as unsuitable as a court suit.
Besides, I argued thus: "A very underdone slice of tough venison, with a draught of spring water, const.i.tute in these regions a very appetizing meal; and, for the same reason, a very morose friar and a still sulkier servant may be accepted as very tolerable travelling companions. Enjoy better when it can be had, Con, but prefer even the humblest fare to a famine,"--a rule more applicable to mental food than to material.
In a little self-colloquy after this kind, I crept stealthily back, leading Charry by the bridle, and halting at intervals to listen. What a triumph to my skill in divination as I heard the Friar"s loud voice overtopping the gushing flood, while he exhorted his beasts in the most energetic fashion!
I advanced cautiously till I gained a little clump of brushwood, from which I could see the river and the group perfectly. The Friar had now mounted the wagon, and held the reins; the Mexican was, however, standing in the stream and leading the cattle, who appeared to have regained somewhat more of their courage, and were slowly proceeding, sniffing timidly as they went, and pawing the water fretfully.
The Mexican advanced boldly, till the water reached nigh the top of his great _botas vaqueras_, immense boots of buffalo hide, which, it is said, resist the bite of either cayman or serpent; and so far the horses went, doubtless from the encouragement. As soon, however, as the deepening flood warned the man to mount the wagon, they halted abruptly, and stood pawing and splashing the stream, while their ears flattened back, and their drawn-in tails evinced the terror that was on them.
Objurgations, entreaties, prayers, curses, menaces, were all in vain,--a step farther they would not budge. All that the Spanish contained of guttural was hurled at them without success; the cow-hide whip might welt their flanks and leave great ridges at every stroke, the huge pole of the Mexican might belabor them, with a running accompaniment of kicks, but to no purpose. They cared as little for the cow-hide as the "calendar;" neither saints nor thrashings could persuade them to move on. Saint Anthony and Saint Ursula, Saint Forimund of Cordova, with various others, were invoked, to no end. Saint Clement of Capua, to whom all poisonous reptiles, from boas to whip-snakes, owe allegiance, was called upon to aid the travellers; but the quadrupeds took no heed of these entreaties, but showed a most Protestant contempt for the whole litany.
There was a pause; wearied with flogging, and tired out with vain exhortations, both Friar and Mexican, ceased, and as if in compensation to their long pent-up feelings, vented their anger in a very guttural round of maledictions upon the whole animal creation, and in particular on that part of it who would not be eaten by alligators without signs of resistance and opposition. Whether this new turn of events had any influence, or that the matter was more owing to "natural causes," I cannot say; but, just then, the horse which had been already bitten, reared straight up, and with a loud snort plunged forward, carrying with him the other. By his plunge he had reached a deep part of the stream, where the water came half way up his body. Another spring smashed one of the traces, and left him free to kick violently behind him,--a privilege he certainly hastened to avail himself of. His fellow, whether from sympathy or not, imitated the performance; and there they were, lashing and plunging with all their might, while the wagon, against which the strong current beat in all its force, threatened at every instant to capsize. The Friar struggled manfully, as did his follower; but, unfortunately, one of the reins gave way, and by the violent tugging at the remaining one, the animals were turned out of their course, and dragged round to the very middle of the stream. About twenty yards lower down, the river fell by a kind of cascade some ten or twelve feet, and towards this spot now the infuriated horses seemed rushing. Had it been practicable, a strong man might, by throwing himself into the water, have caught the horses" heads and held them back; but the stream swarmed with poisonous reptiles, which made such an effort almost inevitable death.
It was now a scene of terrible and most exciting interest.