The Red Track: A Story of Social Life in Mexico. Gustave Aimard

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After a rather lengthened interval, doubtless expressly granted the visitor to let him draw breath and warm himself, the young chief bowed to him and addressed him deferentially.

      "My father is welcome among his sons; they were impatiently awaiting his arrival."

      The guide responded to this compliment with a grimace, in all probability intended to pass muster for a smile. The chief continued: —

      "Our scouts have carefully examined the encampment of the Yoris, and the warriors of the Jester are ready to obey the instructions given them by their great sachem, Eagle-head. Is my father Curumilla satisfied with his red children?"

      Curumilla (for the guide was no other than the reader's old acquaintance the Araucano chief) laid his right hand on his chest, and uttered with a guttural accent the exclamation, "Ugh!" which was with him a mark of the greatest joy.

      The Jester and his warriors had been too long acquainted with Curumilla for his silence to seem strange to them; hence they yielded without repugnance to his mania, and carefully giving up the hope of getting a syllable out of his closed lips, began with him a conversation in signs.

      We have already had occasion, in a previous work, to mention that the redskins have two languages, the written and the sign language. The latter, which has among them attained a high perfection, and which all understand, is usually employed when hunting, or on expeditions, when a word pronounced even in a low voice may reveal the presence of an ambuscade to the enemy, whether men or beasts, whom they are pursuing, and desire to surprise.

      It would have been interesting, and even amusing, for any stranger who had been present at this interview to see with what rapidity the gestures and signs were exchanged between these men, so strangely lit up by the ruddy glow of the fire, and who resembled, with their strange movements, their stern faces, and singular attitudes, a council of demons. At times the Jester, with his body bent forward, and emphatic gestures, held a dumb speech, which his comrades followed with the most sustained attention, and which they answered with a rapidity that words themselves could not have surpassed.

      At length this silent council terminated. Curumilla raised his hand to heaven, and pointed to the stars, which were beginning to grow dim, and then left the circle. The redskins respectfully followed him to the foot of the tree by the aid of which he had entered their camp. When he reached it, he turned round.

      "May the Wacondah protect my father!" the Jester then said. "His sons have thoroughly understood his instructions, and will follow them literally. The great pale hunter will have joined his friends by this hour, and he is doubtless awaiting us. Tomorrow Koutonepi will see his Comanche brothers. At the enditha the camp will be raised."

      "It is good," Curumilla answered, and saluting for the last time the warriors, who bowed respectfully before him, the chief seized the creeping plants, and, raising himself by the strength of his wrists, in a second he reached the branches, and disappeared in the foliage.

      The journey the Indian had made was very important, and needed to be so for him to run such great risks in order to have an interview at this hour of the night with the redskins; but as the reader will soon learn what were the consequences of this expedition, we deem it unnecessary to translate the sign language employed during the council, or explain the resolutions formed between Curumilla and the Jester.

      The chief recommenced his aerial trip with the same lightness and the same good fortune. After a lapse of time comparatively much shorter than that which he had previously employed, he reached the camp of the white men. The same silence prevailed in its interior; the sentinels were still motionless at their post, and the watch fires were beginning to expire.

      The chief assured himself that no eye was fixed on him – that no spy was on the watch; and, feeling certain of not being perceived, he slid silently down the tree and resumed the place beneath the buffalo robe which he was supposed not to have left during the night.

      At the moment when, after taking a final glance around, the Indian chief disappeared beneath his robe, the capataz, who was lying athwart the entrance of the hut, gently raised his head, and looked with strange fixity of glance at the place occupied by the redskin.

      Had a suspicion been aroused in the Mexican's mind? Had he noticed the departure and return of the chief? Presently he let his head fall again, and it would have been impossible to read on his motionless features what were the thoughts that troubled him.

      The remainder of the night passed tranquilly and peacefully.

      CHAPTER V.

      THE FORT OF THE CHICHIMÈQUES

      The sun rose; its beams played on the trembling yellow leaves of the trees, and tinged them with a thousand shades of gold and purple. The birds, cozily nestled in the bushes, struck up their matin carol; the awakening of nature was as splendid and imposing as it is in all mountainous countries.

      The leader of the caravan left his tent and gave orders to strike the camp. The tent was at once folded up, the mules were loaded, and, so soon as the horses were saddled, the party started without waiting for the morning meal, for they generally breakfasted at the eleven o'clock halt, while resting to let the great heat of the day subside.

      The caravan advanced along the road from Santa Fé to the United States, at a speed unusual under such circumstances. A military system was affected which was imposing, and, indeed, indispensable in these regions, infested not merely by numerous bands of predatory Indians, but also traversed by the pirates of the prairie, more dangerous bandits still, who were driven by their enemies beyond the pale of the law, and who, ambushed at the turnings of roads or in broken rocks, attacked the caravans as they passed, and pitilessly massacred the travellers, after plundering them of all they possessed.

      About twenty yards ahead of the caravan rode four men, with their rifles on their thigh, preceded by the guide, who formed the extreme vanguard. Next came the main body, composed of six well-armed peons, watching the mules and baggage, under the immediate orders of the chief of the caravan. Lastly, the capataz rode about thirty paces in the rear, having under his orders four resolute men armed to the teeth.

      Thus arranged to face any event, the caravan enjoyed a relative security, for it was not very probable that the white or red pillagers, who were doubtless watching it, would dare to attack in open day seventeen resolute and trained men. At night the horse thieves, who glide silently in the darkness during the sleep of the travellers, and carry off horses and baggage, were more formidable.

      Still, either through accident, or the prudential measures employed by the chief of the caravan, since they had left Santa Fé, that is to say for more than a month, the Mexicans had not seen an Indian, or been alarmed. They had journeyed – apparently at least – with as much tranquillity as if, instead of being in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, they were moving along the roads in, the interior of Sonora. This security, however, while augmenting their confidence, had not caused their prudential measures to be neglected; and their chief, whom this unusual leniency on the part of the villains who prowl about these countries alarmed, redoubled his vigilance and precautions to avoid a surprise and a collision with the plunderers.

      The discovery, made on the previous day by the guide, of an Indian Crow trail – the most determined thieves in these mountains – added to his apprehensions; for he did not hide from himself that, if he were compelled to fight, in spite of the courage and discipline of his peons, the odds would be against him, when fighting men thoroughly acquainted with the country, and who would only attack him with numbers sufficient to crush his band, however desperate the resistance offered might be.

      When he left the camp, the chief of the caravan, suffering perhaps from a gloomy foreboding, spurred his horse and joined the Indian,

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