The Insurgent Chief

"Well, I am certain that you will not quit this place without having tried, not only to see these ladies again, but to carry them off from those who have them in charge – which, for that matter, would not be impossible, since they will be but a dozen at the most. I wish you good fortune from the bottom of my heart, for I like you. Only, take my advice – act with prudence; cunning has united more bonds than force has broken. Follow the counsel that I give you, and I hope that you will find it good. Now we must separate; I have, if not repaired, at least lessened the serious consequences of the fault I have been obliged to commit. Let us part as two friends. The only hope that I have is, that we shall never see one another again."

"What! You are going to set out in the midst of darkness when we are threatened with a storm!"

"It must be, Don Emile. I am expected there. My brother is preparing an important expedition, in which I ought, and wish, to assist. As to the storm, it will not burst for two or three hours, and, terrible as it may be, it is too old an acquaintance for me not to know how to defend myself from it. Adieu, then, and once more – good fortune! Whatever happens, silence on what I have said! Now, wrap yourself in your poncho, and feign to sleep till I have given the signal for my men to depart."

The young man followed the counsel which had been given to him; he rolled himself in his mantle and stretched himself on the ground.

When Don Santiago was assured that nothing would arouse suspicion as to the conversation which had just taken place, he rose, stretched his limbs to freshen himself up, and, taking a whistle suspended to his neck by a little silver chain, he gave a shrill and prolonged call with it.

The horsemen immediately raised their heads.

"Come, boys!" cried the Pincheyra in a loud voice, "Up and saddle your horses, we return to Casa-Frama."

"What! You leave us at this hour, Señor Don Santiago?" asked the young man, feigning to be awakened by the sound of the whistle.

"It must be so, Señor," answered he; "our escort is not necessary to you, and we have a long journey to make if we would reach Casa-Frama before sunrise."

Meanwhile, the Pincheyras had with alacrity obeyed the order which they had received; they had risen and had proceeded to get ready and saddle their horses.

By accident apparently, but no doubt as planned by Don Santiago, the sentinels who were charged with watching over the common safety were the two gauchos and the Guaraní, so that he was certain that the secret of his conversation with the Frenchman would not transpire.

In a few minutes the horsemen were in the saddles. The Pincheyra put himself at their head, and, turning towards Emile, making him a friendly salute with the hand —

"Adieu, Señor, and good fortune!" said he significantly.

"The painter returned his cordial salute, and the little troop set out. It soon disappeared at the turn of the path. The sound of its steps gradually lessened, and before long had ceased altogether. When silence was completely re-established, Emile made a sign to his companions.

"Now that we are alone, Señores," said he, "let us talk, for affairs are serious. Tyro, light the fire; we will hold counsel in the Indian fashion."

The Guaraní gathered some dry wood, piled it carefully, struck a light, and soon a slight column of flame rose brightly in the air.

A death-like silence reigned in the valley; the breeze had died away; there was not a sound in the air; the sky, black as ink, had not a single star; nature appeared to be gathering all her powers for a terrible strife of the elements; from the unexplored depths of the chasms dull and mysterious sounds sometimes rose, mingling at intervals with the low growl of beasts going to seek water.

The four men crouched round the fire, lit their cigarettes, and the young man talked to them, telling them what he thought advisable of the conversation which had taken place between him and Don Santiago.

"Now," added he, "answer me frankly; can I count on you for all that I think proper to do?"

"Yes," answered they with one voice.

"Whatever happens?"

"Whatever happens."

"Well, I shall not be ungrateful; the reward shall equal the services; now, if you have any observations to submit, I am ready to hear them."

The gauchos, peculiarly men of action, and not by nature great talkers, contented themselves by saying that when the moment for action arrived they would be ready – that they had nothing to say on the mode of proceeding – that that did not concern them.

"That is right," said Tyro. "Go to sleep, my braves, and leave us – the Señor, our master and I, agree on what is best to be done."

The gauchos did not require this to be repeated; they rose and proceeded to stretch themselves amongst the baggage: a few minutes later, and they were sound asleep.

Emile and the Guaraní, who alone were awake, held a long and serious conversation, and arranged a plan which it is needless to state here.

CHAPTER X

THE PARTISAN

We must now return to the Guaycurus chiefs, whom we left at the moment when, following Don Zeno Cabral, they entered a cavern where the Montonero – at least according to the words he made use of in accosting them – appeared to have given a rendezvous to the Cougar.

This cavern – the entry of which, without knowing it well, it was impossible to distinguish from without, by reason of the conformation of the ground of which it formed the centre, and of the difficulty with which it was reached – was vast and perfectly light, on account of a number of almost imperceptible fissures which allowed the light to penetrate at the same time as it renewed the air. At the bottom and on the sides several galleries opened, which were lost under the mountain at probably very great distances. The spot where the partisans stopped, that is to say at a few steps from the opening, contained several seats formed by blocks of oak awkwardly squared, and two or three masses of dried leaves, serving probably for beds to those who came to seek a temporary refuge in this place.

In the centre of the cavern a great fire was lighted. Over this fire, suspended by a chain from three stakes placed triangularly, was boiling an iron pot, while a quarter of guanaco, spitted on a ramrod fixed in the ground, was roasting very gently; some potatoes were cooking under the cinders, and several bullock-horn cups containing some harina tostada were placed near seats on the ground. The arms of Zeno Cabral, that is to say, his gun and his sabre, were leaning against one of the walls of the cavern; he had only kept his knife in his right pocket.

"Señores," said the partisan with a courteous gesture, "permit me to offer you the poor hospitality that the circumstances in which we are compel me to give you. Before anything else we will eat and drink together to establish confidence between us, and to remove all suspicion of treason."

These words were spoken in Portuguese; the captains answered in the same language, and sat, after the example of their Amphytrion, on the seats prepared for them.

Zeno Cabral then unhooked the pot and served with uncommon skill and vivacity, in the couis which he presented to his guests, some tocino, chorizo, and charqui, seasoned with camotes and ají, which form the national dish of these countries.

The meal commenced; the chiefs vigorously attacked the dishes placed before them, helping themselves with their knives instead of forks, and drinking in turn water slightly dashed with brandy to remove its brackishness.

The Indians do not speak as they eat, so their meals are generally short. After the charqui, it was the turn for the guanaco; then the harina tostada was taken, diluted with warm water, and at last Zeno Cabral made the maté[7 - In a preceding work, the "Grand Chief of the Aucas," I have explained what this drink is. In Southern America it replaces tea, and is very much liked by the white inhabitants and Indians.] and offered it to his guests.

When the maté had been drunk, and our three personages had lighted their maize straw cigarettes, Zeno Cabral at last spoke.

"I ought to apologise to you, Señor Captain," said he in Portuguese to Gueyma, "for the kind of surprise by means of which I have obtained an interview with you; the Cougar, of whom I have for a long time had the honour of being a friend, has induced me to act as I have done; if a fault has been committed, it is on him that the blame ought to rest."

"What the Cougar does is always right," answered the chief smiling; "he is my father, since it is to him that I owe what I am; I have not to blame him then, convinced that very important reasons, and which no doubt will afterwards be explained to me, prevented him from acting otherwise."

"Gueyma has well spoken as usual," said the Cougar; "wisdom dwells with him; the white chief will not be long in adducing motives for his conduct."

"That is what I am immediately going to do, if the captains will be so good as to lend me their attention," pursued Zeno Cabral.

"Let my father speak, our ears are opened."

The partisan collected himself for two or three minutes, and then commenced in these terms:

"My brothers, the Guaycurus warriors, deceived by the lying words of a white, have consented to form an alliance with him, and to follow him into this country, to aid him in fighting other whites, who have never done evil to my brothers, and even of whose existence they were ignorant. But while the warriors entered on the path of war, and abandoned their hunting territories, under the safeguard of the honour of their new allies, the latter, who had no other design than that of getting them away, in order to seize more easily their rich and fertile countries, invaded, to the contempt of sworn faith, these territories, and tried to establish themselves there. This iniquitous project, this infamous treason, would probably have succeeded, considering the absence of the brave warriors of the tribe, if a friend of the Guaycurus, disgusted with that infamous action, had not warned Tarou-Niom, the great captain of the Guaycurus, to put himself on his guard, and had not contracted an offensive and defensive alliance with Emavidi-Chaimé, the great chief of the Payagoas, to oppose the attacks of the common enemy."

Notwithstanding the command of countenance of which the Indians boast in the most important circumstances, Gueyma, on learning this news, so decisively and coldly uttered, could not contain himself. His eyebrows knitted, his nostrils dilated like those of a wild beast; he bounded on his feet, and violently clapping his hands:

"My brother, the pale chief, has proofs of what he states, has he not?" cried he, with a tone of sudden menace.

"I have," simply answered Zeno Cabral.

"Good, then he will give them to me."

"I will give them to the captain."