"Thank her rather," interrupted the Canadian; "the knaves might deceive a novice like you, but not an old hunter like me. You have heard the jackals of an evening in the forest howl and answer each other as though there were hundreds of them, when there were but three or four. The Indians imitate the jackals, and I will answer for it there are not more that a dozen now behind those trees. Ah! if I could but get them to cross the water, not one of them should return to carry the news of their disaster."
Then, as if a sudden thought had flashed across his mind, he directed his companions to lie down on their backs--in which position they were protected by the trunks of the trees. "We are in safety as long as we lie thus," said he, "only keep your eye on the tops of the trees; it is from these only they can reach us. Fire only if you see them climb up, but otherwise remain motionless. The knaves will not willingly depart without our scalps, and must make up their minds at last to attack us."
This resolution of the hunter seemed to have been inspired by heaven, for scarcely had they laid down before a shower of b.a.l.l.s and arrows tore to pieces the border of reeds, and broke the branches behind which they had been kneeling a minute before. Bois-Rose pulled down his coat and hat, as though he himself had fallen, and then the most profound silence reigned in the island, after this apparently murderous fire. Cries of triumph followed this silence, and then a second discharge of bullets and arrows.
"Is not that an Indian mounting the willow?" whispered Pepe.
"Yes, but let us risk his fire without stirring; lie all of us as if we were dead. Then he will go and tell his companions that he has counted the corpses of the palefaces."
In spite of the danger incurred by this stratagem, the proposition of Bois-Rose was accepted, and each remained motionless, watching, not without anxiety, the manoeuvres of the Indian. With extreme precaution the red warrior climbed from branch to branch, until he had reached a point from which he could overlook the whole islet.
There remained just sufficient daylight to observe his movements when the foliage itself did not hide them. When he had reached the desired height, the Indian, resting on a thick branch, advanced his head with precaution. The sight of the bodies extended on the ground appeared not to surprise him, and he now openly pointed his rifle towards them. This he did several times, apparently taking aim, but not one of the hunters stirred. Then the Indian uttered a cry of triumph. "The shark takes the bait," muttered Bois-Rose.
"I shall recognise this son of a dog," rejoined Pepe, "and if I do not repay him for the anxiety he has caused me, it is because the bullet he is about to send will prevent me."
"It is the Blackbird," said Bois-Rose, "he is both brave and dexterous-- lie close!"
The Indian once more took aim, and then fired; a branch knocked from a tree just above Pepe, fell upon him and hurt his forehead. He stirred no more than the dead wood against which he leaned, but said, "Rascal of a redskin, I"ll pay you for this before long."
Some drops of blood fell upon the face of the Canadian.
"Is any one wounded?" said he, with a shudder.
"A scratch, nothing more," said Pepe, "G.o.d be praised!"
Just then the Indian uttered a cry of joy, as he descended from the tree on which he had mounted, and the three friends again breathed freely.
And yet some doubt seemed to remain in the minds of the Indians, for a long and solemn silence followed the manoeuvre of their chief.
The sun had now set, the short twilight had pa.s.sed away, night had come on, and the moon shone on the river, yet still the Indians did not stir.
"Our scalps tempt them, but they still hesitate to come and take them,"
said Pepe, who was becoming very tired of doing nothing.
"Patience!" whispered Bois-Rose, "the Indians are like the vultures, who dare not attack a body until it begins to decay. We may look out for them by-and-bye. Let us resume our position behind the reeds."
The hunters again quickly knelt down and continued to watch their enemies.
Before long an Indian showed himself very cautiously, another then joined him, and both approached with increasing confidence, followed by others, until Bois-Rose counted ten in the moonlight.
"They will cross the river in file, I expect," said he. "Fabian, you fire at the first, Pepe will aim at the centre, and I at the last but one. In that way they cannot all attack together. It will be a hand-to-hand struggle, but you, Fabian, while Pepe and I wait for them knife in hand, shall load our rifles and pa.s.s them to us. By the memory of your mother, I forbid you to fight with these wretches."
As the Canadian uttered these words, a tall Indian entered the river, followed by nine others. All advanced with the utmost caution; they might have been taken for the shades of warriors returned from the land of spirits.
CHAPTER FORTY TWO.
THE BLACKBIRD.
Death seemed to the eyes of the Indians to reign over the island--for the hunters held even their breath--and yet they advanced with the utmost care.
The foremost man, who was the "Blackbird" himself, had reached a place where the water began to be deep, as the last man was just leaving the bank. But just as Fabian was about to take aim against the chief, to the great regret of Pepe, the "Blackbird," either fearful of danger, or because a ray of moonlight gleaming on the rifles told him his enemy still lived dived suddenly under the water.
"Fire!" cried Bois-Rose, and immediately the last Indian of the file fell to rise no more, and two others appeared struggling in the water, and were quickly borne off by the stream. Pepe and Bois-Rose then threw their rifles behind them as agreed upon, for Fabian to reload, while they themselves stood upon the bank, knives in hand.
"The Apaches are still seven," shouted Bois-Rose, in a voice of thunder, anxious to finish the struggle, and feeling all his hatred of the Indians awakened within him, "will they dare to come and take the scalps of the whites?"
But the disappearance of their chief and the death of their comrades had disconcerted the Indians; they did not fly, but they remained undecided and motionless, as black rocks bathed by the shining waters of the river.
"Can the red warriors only scalp dead bodies?" added Pepe with a contemptuous laugh. "Are the Apaches like vultures who only attack the dead? Advance then, dogs, vultures, women without courage!" shouted he, at the sight of their enemies, who were now rapidly regaining the bank.
Suddenly, however, he noticed a body floating on its back, whose bright eyes showed that it was not a corpse, as the extended arms and motionless body seemed to indicate.
"Don Fabian, my rifle! there is the "Blackbird" pretending to be dead and floating down the stream."
Pepe took the rifle from Fabian, and aimed at the floating body, but not a muscle stirred. The hunter lowered his rifle. "I was wrong," said he, aloud, "the white men do not, like the Indians, waste their powder on dead bodies."
The body still floated, with outspread legs and extended arms. Pepe again raised his rifle and again lowered it. Then, when he thought that he had paid off anguish for anguish to the Indian chief, he fired, and the body floated no longer.
"Have you killed him?" asked Bois-Rose.
"No, I only wished to break his shoulder bone, that he may always have cause to remember the shudder he gave, and the treason he proposed to me. If he were dead, he would still float."
"You might have done better to have killed him. But what is to be done now? I hoped to finish with these demons, and now our work is still to be done. We cannot cross the river to attack them."
"It is the best thing we can do."
"With Fabian, I cannot decide to do it, or I should be now on the bank opposite, where you know as well as I do they still are breathing their infernal vengeance."
The Spaniard shrugged his shoulders with stoical resignation.
"Doubtless," said he, "but we must decide either to fly or to stay."
"Carramba!" continued he, "if we two were alone we would gain the opposite bank in a minute; the seven who are left would catch us no doubt, but we should come out of it, as we have out of more difficult situations."
"It would be better than to stay here like foxes in their hole."
"I agree: but Fabian! and the unlucky scalped man, whom we cannot abandon thus to the mercy of the wretches who have already treated him so cruelly. Let us wait at least until the moon has set, and darkness comes on."
And the old man hung his head with an air of discouragement--which made a painful impression on the Spaniard--raising it only to glance anxiously at the sky; where the moon held on her ordinary course over the starry blue.
"So be it," said Pepe; "but, stay! we killed first five Indians, then three, that makes eight; there should have been twelve left; why did we only count ten in the water? Depend upon it, the Blackbird has sent the two others to seek for reinforcements."
"It is possible: to remain here or to fly are both terrible."
For some time the hunters thus continued to deliberate; meanwhile the moonbeams began to fall more obliquely, and already a part of the tops of the trees were in shadow. More than an hour had elapsed since the attempt of the Indians, and Pepe, less absorbed than Bois-Rose, was watching anxiously.
"That cursed moon will never go down," said he, "and it seems to me that I hear something like the noise of feet in the water; the buffaloes do not come down to drink at this time of night."