"Senor Don Fabian de Mediana!" cried he, starting up, "you are now a rich and powerful lord, for all this gold belongs to you alone."
So saying, he advanced and bowed respectfully to Fabian, who appeared somewhat surprised by the manner of his salutation.
"G.o.d forbid," cried Fabian, "that you, who have shared the peril, should not share the treasure. What do you say, Bois-Rose? do you not rejoice to become in your old age rich and powerful?"
But Bois-Rose, unmoved before all the riches, contented himself with shaking his head, while a smile of tenderness for Fabian testified to the only interest that he took in that marvellous spectacle!
"I think like Pepe," said he, after a pause, "what could I do with this gold that the world covets? If it has for us an inestimable value, it is because it is to belong to you; the possession of the least of these stones would take away in our eyes from the value of the service we have rendered you. But the time for action has arrived; for certainly we are not alone in these solitudes."
Pepe now began to pull aside the branches, but scarcely had he entered the valley when the sound of a gun was distinctly heard. In a moment his voice rea.s.sured his anxious comrades.
"It is the devil," cried he, "forbidding us to encroach on his domains; but at all events it is a devil whose aim is not infallible."
Before entering the valley Bois-Rose and Fabian raised their eyes to the top of the hill, whence the shot as well as the voice had proceeded.
But the remains of the fog at that moment covered the top of the rock, and all three rushed simultaneously towards the isolated ma.s.s where they believed their enemy to be hidden. The sides, although steep, were covered with brushwood, which rendered them easier to climb; but it was a dangerous attempt, for the fog prevented them from seeing what enemies were above. Fabian wished to go first, but the vigorous arm of the Canadian held him back, and meanwhile Pepe was half-way towards the summit. Bois-Rose followed, begging Fabian to keep behind him.
Pepe mounted boldly, undismayed by the foes that might be concealed behind that ma.s.s of vapour, and soon disappeared under the mist. A cry of triumph soon warned his friends that he had arrived in safety. Both hastened to join him, but found no one on the rock except Pepe himself!
Just as, disappointed at their want of success, they were preparing to descend again, a sudden gust of wind drove off the fog, and allowed them to see to a distance. To the right and left the plain presented the most complete picture of the desert in its dreary sadness. They beheld arid steppes over which whirled clouds of sand, a burnt and sterile ground, everywhere silence, everywhere solitude. At some distance off two men on horseback were seen advancing towards the rock, but at the distance at which they were, it was impossible to distinguish either their dress or the colour of their skin.
"Must we sustain a new siege here?" said Bois-Rose. "Are these white men or Indians?"
"White or red, they are enemies," said Pepe.
While the three friends bent down, so as not to be observed, a man, until then invisible, cautiously entered the lake. He lifted with care the floating leaves of the water lilies, and forming of them a shelter over its head, remained motionless, and the surface of the lake soon after appeared as if undisturbed. This man was Cuchillo, the jackal, who, led by his evil destiny, had ventured to hunt on the ground of the lion.
CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.
THE PUNISHMENT OF TANTALUS.
Cuchillo, after reaching the mountains, had halted. He had not forgotten the appearance of the place, and his heart trembled with fear and joy. After a few minutes he looked around him more calmly. It was then dark, and when he arrived at the rock, the damp vapours from the lake enveloped with a thick veil both the valley and the tomb. The sound of the waterfall put an end to his uncertainties; he remembered that it fell into a gulf close by the golden placer.
He had dismounted his horse, and sat down to wait for daylight; but scarcely had he done so when he bounded up as though bitten by a serpent. A fatal chance had led him to sit down on the very spot where he had struck Marcos Arellanos, and quick as lightning, every detail of the mortal struggle pa.s.sed through his mind. However this feeling of terror was of short duration.
In that part of America, superst.i.tion has not established its empire as in the old countries of Europe, where the evening mists give to objects fantastic aspects, and tend naturally to reflections upon the supernatural. From this arises the sombre poesy of the north, which has peopled our land with ghosts and phantoms. In the American solitude people fear the living more than the dead, and Cuchillo had too much to fear from men to waste many thoughts upon the ghost of Arellanos, and he had soon quite banished the thought from his mind.
Although he felt nearly certain that no one had seen him leave the camp, or had followed him, he resolved to climb the rock and look out over the desert. The two pines, whose sombre verdure crowned the summit, appeared marvellously fit to shelter him from the eyes of the Indians should any be near. As he advanced, however, he could not resist taking a glance at the valley; for a sudden fear took possession of his mind: was it still untouched as he had left it?
One glance rea.s.sured him. Nothing was changed in the valley; there were still the heaps of the shining metal.
The traveller, devoured with thirst in the sandy desert, does not more gladly catch sight of the oasis at whose waters he desires to drink than did Cuchillo the sight of the gold gleaming through the leaves of the trees.
Any other man would have hastened to seize as much of it as he could carry, and make off with his booty. But with Cuchillo, cupidity was a pa.s.sion carried to its utmost limits; and before seizing it, the outlaw wished to feast his eyes on the treasure of which he had dreamed for two years, and for which he would not hesitate to sacrifice the lives of all his companions. After some moments of ecstatic contemplation, Cuchillo led his horse forward by the bridle, and having tied him to a tree, in a defile where the animal would be hidden from all eyes, he himself mounted the rock.
Arrived there, he looked around to a.s.sure himself that he was alone. He was soon satisfied, for at that moment neither of the other two parties were visible. a.s.sured by the silence that reigned around, he looked towards the cascade. The water, which seemed as it fell to form a curve of running silver, opened at one place, and displayed a block of gold, sparkling in the rays of the sun. The most enormous cocoanut that ever hung on a tree did not surpa.s.s this block in size. Continually washed by the spray of the cascade, this gold appeared in all its brilliance, as if ready to escape from the silica which held it, and thus perhaps for centuries this king"s ransom had hung menacingly over the abyss!
At the sight of this block, which looked as though it might be seized by stretching out his hands, a thrill of joy pa.s.sed through Cuchillo"s heart; and hanging over the precipice with extended arms, he gave utterance to the cry which had been heard by the three hunters below.
Soon, however, a spectacle, that Cuchillo was far from expecting to witness, drew from him another cry, but this time of rage. He had seen a man, possessor like himself of the secret of the valley, treading with profane foot on the treasure that he had believed wholly his. Bois-Rose and Fabian were hidden behind the trees; and thinking that Pepe was alone, Cuchillo had fired at him, without taking time for a proper aim, and thus Pepe had escaped the ball that whistled past him.
It would be impossible to paint his rage and stupefaction, when hidden behind the pine trees, he saw two men join Pepe, especially when in one of them he recognised the terrible hunter whom he had seen engaged with the tigers at Poza, and in the other, Fabian, who had already twice escaped his vengeance. A mortal fear chilled his heart; he almost fell to the ground. Must he again fly from that Golden Valley, from which fate seemed always to drive him?
Lucky for Cuchillo, the fog had hidden him from his enemies, and by the time they had reached the top he had descended on the opposite side-- after having just caught a glance of Don Estevan and his companion in the distance. Here was a fresh subject of fear and surprise for Cuchillo who, gliding like a serpent along the rocks, hid himself, as we have seen, amid the leaves of the water lilies, to await the denouement of this strange adventure. Hidden from all eyes, he held himself in readiness to profit by the approaching conflict between Don Estevan and Fabian, and a shudder of diabolical joy mingled with that caused by the gold; he was like the rapacious bird which awaits the issue of the battle to seize upon its prey. If the three hunters were victorious he had little he thought to fear from Fabian, who was still in his eyes Tiburcio Arellanos. The lower cla.s.s of Mexicans think little of a blow with the dagger, and he hoped that the one he had given might be pardoned, if he were to throw the blame upon Don Estevan. If this last remained master of the field, he trusted to find some plausible excuse for his desertion. He decided therefore upon letting them begin the struggle, and then, at the decisive moment, should come to the a.s.sistance of the strongest.
While Cuchillo was endeavouring to console himself by these reasonings, Bois-Rose was able to distinguish the complexion of the new-comers.
"They are from the Mexican camp," said he.
"I foresaw," said Fabian, "that we should have the whole troop on our hands, and be caught like wild horses in a stockade."
"Hush!" said Bois-Rose, "and trust to me to protect you. Nothing yet shows that there are any others behind, and in any case we could not be better placed than on this rock; from here we might defy a whole tribe of savages. Besides, we do not yet know that they will stop here. Both of you crouch down. I shall watch them."
So saying, he lay flat down, hiding his head behind the stones which surrounded the top like turrets, but without losing sight of the hors.e.m.e.n. They began now to hear the sound of the horses" feet on the plain. The old hunter saw them stop and converse, but could not hear what they were saying.
"Why this halt, Diaz?" said Don Estevan, impatiently, "we have lost time enough already."
"Prudence exacts that we should look about us before proceeding. The knave may be hidden about here, as we have tracked him up to the rock; he may not be alone, and we have everything to fear from him."
Don Estevan made a gesture of disdain.
"Ah!" said Bois-Rose, in a low voice, "I recognise Don Estevan, or rather Don Antonio de Mediana, who is at last in our power."
"Don Antonio de Mediana! Is it possible? Are you sure?" cried Fabian.
"It is he, I tell you."
"Ah! now I see that it was the hand of G.o.d which brought me here. Shade of my mother, rejoice!" cried Fabian.
Pepe kept silence, but at the name of Don Antonio, hatred shone also in his glance. He raised his head, and his eye seemed to measure the distance between him and the object of his vengeance, but even the long rifle of Bois-Rose could scarcely reach them at such a range.
"Do not rise up, Pepe!" cautioned the Canadian; "you will be seen."
"Do you observe any others behind?" inquired Fabian.
"No one; from the point where the river divides to this place I see no living being; if," added he, after an instant"s pause, "that black ma.s.s that I see floating on the river be only the trunk of a tree--but at any rate it is floating away from us."
"Never mind that," said Fabian, "describe to me the man who accompanies Don Antonio; perhaps I shall recognise him."
"He is tall and straight as a cane; and what a beautiful horse he rides!"
"A bay horse? and has he gold lace on his hat, and a fine face?"
"Precisely."
"It is Pedro Diaz. Now it would be a cowardice not to show ourselves, when heaven sends us Don Antonio almost alone."
"Patience," said Pepe; "I am as interested as you are in not letting him escape, but haste may ruin all. When one has waited for twenty years, one may easily wait a few minutes longer. Are you sure they are alone, Bois-Rose?"