Part 42 (2/2)
The jackal flying to his den, utters his parting growl, and the funereal voices of the night-birds are heard for the last time. The maipouri and roebuck have already disappeared within the thickets, where they have chosen their respective dens.
Finally, the clouds redden like the wings of the flamingoes, as the sun, shooting upward, gleams with golden brilliance upon the fronds of the palms, and discloses in all their splendid variety the trees of the American forest.
The tall ebony trees, with their bunches of golden flowers, the guiac.u.ms and perfumed liquidambars--like pyramids of solid vegetation--the mahogany and cedrela trees, and the princely palms towering over gigantic tree-ferns, and fanciful festoons of parasitical climbers, that form a flowery cortege around their stems.
In the midst of the almost impenetrable labyrinths formed by these various kinds of trees, glades may here and there be encountered, and paths leading from one to another, trodden only by wild animals, or savage bulls, the descendants of those introduced by the great Cortez into the province of Oajaca. These, maddened by thirst, may be seen pressing through the thick undergrowth towards the river, or standing, half immersed, with their black muzzles buried under water. Here and there pieces of the flowery turf, detached by their hooves, float down the stream, while birds alighting upon these miniature islets, joyfully flap their wings, as if celebrating a triumphal procession upon the water.
Such, in all its primitive splendour, was the aspect of the Ostuta on the morning in question, at that solemnal hour, when the sun proclaimed his presence upon the eastern horizon.
CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.
THE BANDIT CAMP.
The bivouac fires appearing by the ford of the Ostuta were those of Arroyo and his guerilla.
At sunrise, this temporary encampment of the guerilleros presented a scene sufficiently animated and picturesque. A hundred men might be seen occupying themselves in grooming their horses. This they did in the most primitive fas.h.i.+on, some rubbing them down with bunches of dry gra.s.s, others with the first stone that offered, while still others, mounted on the bare backs of the animals, were swimming them through the stream, in order to wash and refresh them. On the bank the saddles were placed in a sort of irregular alignment, in the midst of bales of goods laid open, and of which only the coverings remained upon the ground, to tell of plunder taken from some unfortunate _arriero_.
On the right bank of the river--that side on which lay the hacienda San Carlos--was the princ.i.p.al encampment. There stood a large, rudely-shaped tent, constructed out of the covers of the despoiled packages--pieces of coa.r.s.e hempen canvas and sack cloth, woven from the fibres of the maguey.
Two guerilleros, armed from head to foot, with carbines, swords, pistols, and knives, mounted guard on each side of it, pacing to and fro, but at such a distance from the tent that neither could hear what might be said within.
This rude marquee was the head-quarters of the two leaders, Arroyo and Bocardo, both of whom were at that moment inside. They were seated upon the skulls of bullocks, which served them for chairs, each smoking a cigarette rolled in the husk of Indian corn. From the att.i.tude presented by Arroyo--his eyes bent upon the ground, which was cut up by the long heavy rowels of his spurs, it was evident that his astute a.s.sociate was employing arguments to influence him to some deed of crime.
”Most certainly,” said the latter, with an air of drollery, ”I am disposed to do justice to the good qualities of the Senora Arroyo; they are truly admirable. When a man is wounded, she volunteers to sprinkle red pepper over his wounds. Nothing can be more touching than the way she intercedes for the prisoners we condemn to death--that is, that they may be put to death as slowly as may be--I mean as gently as possible.”
”Ah, that is not selfishness on her part,” interrupted the husband.
”She does so to please me rather than herself--poor thing.”
”True, she is greatly devoted to you--a worthy woman, indeed! Still, camarado,” continued Bocardo with a hesitation that told he had finished speaking the praises of Madame Arroyo; ”you will acknowledge she is neither young nor very pretty.”
”Well--say she is old and ugly,” answered Arroyo, ”she suits my purpose for all that.”
”That's strange enough.”
”It's less strange than you think for. I have my reasons. She shares with me the execration of the public; and if I were a widower--”
”You would have to bear it all on your own shoulders. Bah! they are broad enough for that!”
”True,” replied Arroyo, flattered at the compliment, ”but you, _amigo_, have also a share of that load. It isn't often that the name of Arroyo is cursed, without that of Bocardo being mixed up in the malediction.”
”Ah, there are too many lying tongues in this world!”
”Besides,” continued the brigand, returning to the subject of Madame Arroyo, ”I have another good reason for wis.h.i.+ng that no harm should come to my wife. She is in possession of a scapulary, blessed by the Pope of Rome; which has the wonderful power of causing the husband of whatever woman may carry it to die at the same time that his wife does.”
”Oh!” rejoined Bocardo in a tone of repudiation, ”I did not mean that you should kill the Senora Arroyo--nothing of the kind. My idea is that she should be sent to a convent of penitents, where she might occupy her time in praying for the salvation of her soul, as well as that of her husband. Then replace her by a pretty young damsel, with eyes and hair as black as night, lips as red as the flowers of the grenadine, and skin as white as the _floripondio_. Now you can tell what for the last half-hour I have been killing myself to make you comprehend.”
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