Part 12 (1/2)
”Yes, your idea is good, though difficult and dangerous in its execution.”
”Not so much as you suppose,” Valentine responded warmly. ”Listen to me: tomorrow, at daybreak, Curumilla and myself will go in search of Red Cedar's trail, and I swear to you that we shall find it again.”
”Good,” said Don Miguel; ”and afterwards?”
”Wait; while one of us remains to watch the bandit, the other will return to warn you of the spot where he is. During that time you will have formed alliances with the _pueblos_ Indians, and be in a condition to force the boar in its lair.”
”Yes,” Bloodson remarked, ”that plan is simple, and for that very reason must succeed. It is a struggle of cunning, that is all.”
”Yes,” General Ibanez objected; ”but why should we not go on his trail also?”
”Because,” Valentine answered, ”though you are as brave as your sword, general, you are a soldier--that is to say, you understand nothing of the Indian warfare we are about to carry on, a war composed entirely of ambushes and treachery. You and our friends, in spite of your well-known courage, and I might almost say, on account of it, would prove more injurious than useful, owing to your ignorance of the country in which we are, and the manners of the men we have to fight.”
”That is true,” Don Miguel said; ”our friend is in the right, leave him to act; I am convinced that he will succeed.”
”And so am I,” Valentine exclaimed, with an accent of conviction; ”that is why I wish to be free, so that I may act as I please.”
”In short,” the general went on, ”in a game so serious as that we are playing with men so clever and determined as those we have to fight with, nothing must be left to accident. I resign myself to inaction; carry out your schemes as you think proper, Don Valentine.”
”Pardon me,” Don Pablo exclaimed, hotly. ”My father and you may consent to remain here, for I can understand that your age and habits render you but little fitting for the life you would be obliged to lead; but I am going. I am strong, able to stand fatigue, and long accustomed by Valentine himself to the terrible demands of the desert life you are ignorant of. My sister's safety is at stake: we wish to rescue her from the hands of her ravishers; and hence I must join the men who are going in search of her.”
Valentine gave him a glance full of tenderness. ”Be it so,” he said to him. ”You will come with us, Pablo: this will complete your initiation into desert life.”
”Thanks, my friend, thanks,” the young man said gladly. ”You have removed an immense weight from my heart. Poor sister! I shall cooperate, then, in her deliverance!”
”There is another man you must take with you, Don Valentine,” Bloodson said.
”Why so?” Valentine asked.
”Because,” the other answered, ”as soon as you have departed, I shall go and visit the Indian villages: when the moment arrives, we must know where to meet.”
”Yes, but how is it to be managed?”
”Shaw will accompany you.”
A flash of joy pa.s.sed into the young man's eye, although his face remained unmoved.
”So soon as you have found the trail, Shaw, who knows my hiding places, will be sent off by you to advise me, and he will find me, wherever I may be.”
”Yes,” the squatter's son said, laconically. Valentine examined him for a moment attentively, and then turned to Bloodson:
”Be it so,” he said; ”he shall come. I am greatly mistaken, or this young man has a greater interest than we suppose in the success of our plans; and we can trust entirely to him.”
Shaw lowered his eyes with a blush.
”And now,” Bloodson said, ”it is late: we have hardly four hours of night left. I believe that we have come to a perfect understanding, and that we shall do well to sleep. We do not know what the morrow reserves for us.”
”Yes, let us sleep,” Valentine said, ”for I intend starting at sunrise.”