"So much the worse for him, for his sufferings would now be over," said Pepe; "the silence of the Indians shows that each is considering what punishment to inflict. The capture of one white is more precious in their eyes than that of a whole troop of horses."
The Indians, still on horseback, surrounded the prisoner, who, casting around him a despairing glance, saw on every side only bronzed and hardened faces. Then the Indians began to deliberate.
Meanwhile, one who appeared to be the chief, and who was distinguished by his black plumes, jumped off his horse, and, throwing the bridle to one of the men, advanced towards the island. Having reached the bank, he seemed to seek for footsteps on the sand. Bois-Rose"s heart beat violently, for this movement appeared to show some suspicion as to their presence.
"Can this wretch," whispered he to Pepe, "smell flesh like the ogres in the fairy tales?"
"_Quien sabe_--who knows?" replied the Spaniard, in the phrase which is the common answer of his native country.
But the sand trampled over by the wild horses who had come to drink, showed no traces of a human foot, and the Indian walked up the stream, still apparently seeking.
"The demon has some suspicion," said Bois-Rose; "and he will discover the traces that we left half-a-mile off when we entered the bed of the river to get at this island. I told you," added he, "that we should have entered two miles higher up; but neither you nor Fabian wished it, and like a fool, I yielded to you."
The deliberation as to the fate of the prisoner was now doubtless over; for cries of joy welcomed some proposition made by one of the Indians.
But it was necessary to await the return and approbation of the chief, who was the man already known to us as the "Blackbird." He had continued his researches, and having reached the place where they had left the sand to enter the river, no longer doubted that the report brought to them had been correct; and having his own private objects, he determined to follow it. Once a.s.sured of the presence of the three whites, he returned to his men, listened gravely to the result of their deliberations, answered in a few words, and then advanced slowly towards the river--after having given an order to five of his men who set off at full gallop to execute it.
The aquatic plants were open in the sunshine; the breeze agitated the leaves of the osiers on the banks of the island, which was to all appearance as uninhabited as when the stream flowed only for the birds of heaven, and the buffaloes and wild horses of the plains. But an Indian could not be deceived by this apparent calm. The "Blackbird"
made a speaking-trumpet of his hand, and cried in a language half Indian, half-Spanish--
"The white warriors of the north may show themselves; the "Blackbird" is their friend. So, too, are the warriors he commands."
At these words, borne to them distinctly by the wind, the Canadian pressed the arm of Pepe; both understood the mixed dialect of the Indian.
"What shall we reply?" said he.
"Nothing," answered Pepe.
The breeze which murmured through the reeds was the only answer the Indian could hear.
He went on--
"The eagle may hide his track in the air from the eye of an Apache; the salmon in the stream leaves no trace behind him; but a white man who crosses the desert is neither a salmon nor an eagle."
"Nor a gosling," murmured Pepe; "and a gosling only betrays himself by trying to sing."
The Indian listened again, but hearing no sound, continued, without showing any signs of being discouraged, "The white warriors of the north are but three against twenty, and the red warriors engage their word to be friends and allies to them."
"Wagh!" said Bois-Rose, "for what perfidy has he need of us?"
"Let him go on, and we shall hear; he has not yet finished, or I am much mistaken!"
"When the white warriors know the intentions of the Blackbird, they will leave their hiding-place," continued he, "but they shall hear them. The white men of the north are the enemies of those of the south--their language, their religion is different. The Apaches hold in their toils a whole camp of southern warriors."
"So much the worse for the gold-seekers," said Bois-Rose.
"If the warriors of the north will join the Indians with their long rifles, they shall share the horses and the treasures of the men of the south; the Indians and the whites will dance together round the corpses of their enemies, and the ashes of their camp."
Bois-Rose and Pepe looked at each other in astonishment, and explained to Fabian the proposal made to them, but the fire of their eyes and their disdainful looks, showed that the n.o.ble trio had but one opinion on the subject--that of perishing rather than aiding the Indians to triumph even over their mortal enemies.
"Do you hear the miscreant," cried Bois-Rose, using in indignation an image fit for the Indians, "he takes jaguars far jackals. Ah! if Fabian were not here, a bullet would be my answer."
Meanwhile, the Indian feeling certain of the presence of the hunters in the island, began to lose patience--for the orders of the chiefs had been peremptory to attack the whites--but he, having his own opinions, wished to prove them right. He knew that the American or Canadian rifle never misses its aim, and three such allies seemed to him not to be despised. He therefore continued to speak:
"The buffalo of the prairies is not more easy to follow than the white man; the track of the buffalo tells the Indian his age, his size, and the time of his pa.s.sing. There are behind the reeds of the floating island a man as strong as a bison, and taller than the tallest rifle, a warrior of mingled north and south blood, and a young warrior of the pure south, but the alliance of these two with the first, indicates that they are enemies of the southern whites--for the weakest ever seek the friendship of the strongest and espouse their cause."
"The sagacity of these dogs is admirable," said Bois-Rose.
"Because they flatter you," said Pepe, who seemed somewhat annoyed at what the Indian had said.
"I await for the answer of the whites," continued the Blackbird. "I hear only the sound of the river, and the wind which says to me, "the whites imagine a thousand errors; they believe that the Indian has eyes behind his back, that the track of the bison is invisible, and that reeds are ball proof." The Blackbird laughs at the words of the wind."
"Ah!" said Bois-Rose, "if we had entered but two miles higher up the river!"
"A friend disdained becomes a terrible enemy," continued the chief.
"We say something similar among us," muttered Pepe.
The Blackbird now signed to the captive to approach. The latter advanced, and the chief pointed out to him the little island, and said, "Can the rifle of the pale-face send a ball into the s.p.a.ce between those bushes?"
But the prisoner had understood only the little Spanish mixed with the Indian dialect, and he remained mute and trembling. Then the Blackbird spoke to one of his warriors, who placed in the hands of the prisoner the rifle that he had taken from him, and by gestures made him understand what was wanted of him. The unlucky man tried to take aim, but terror caused him to shake in such a fashion that his rifle was unsteady in his hands.
"If the Indian has no better way than that to make us speak," said Pepe, "I will not say a word until to-morrow!"
The white man fired indeed, but the ball, directed by his trembling hands, fell into the water some distance from the island. The Blackbird glanced contemptuously at him, and then looked around him.
"Yes," said Pepe; "seek for b.a.l.l.s and powder among the lances and la.s.soes of your warriors."
But as he finished this consoling reflection, the five men who had gone away, returned armed for combat, with rifles and quivers full of arrows.
They had been to fetch the arms which they had laid down, in order to follow the wild horses more freely. Five others now went off.
"This looks bad," said Bois-Rose.
"Shall we attack them while they are but fifteen," said Pepe.
"No, let us remain silent; he still doubts whether we are here."
"As you like."
The Indian chief now took a rifle and advanced again to the bank.
"The hands of the Blackbird do not tremble like a leaf shaken by the wind," said he, pointing his rifle steadily towards the island. "But before firing, he will wait while he counts one hundred, for the answer of the whites who are hidden in the island."
"Get behind me, Fabian," said Bois-Rose.
"No, I stay here," said Fabian, decidedly. "I am younger, and it is my place to expose myself for you."
"Child! do you not see that my body exceeds yours six inches on every side, and your remaining in front is but presenting a double mark."
And without shaking a single one of the reeds around the island, he advanced and knelt before Fabian.