Part 37 (1/2)
”_Sin duda_! Of many a mountain-man, the same might be said; and many an Indian too. Hum! _cavallero_! you would not be flesh and blood, if you didn't.”
”Not _that_, I a.s.sure you. My interest in her springs from a different source. I have other reasons for inquiring into her history.”
”You shall have it, then, _cavallero_--at least so much as I know of it myself: for it is reasonable to suppose that Don Jose did not tell me all he knew. This much: the _nina_ was with a caravan that had come from one of your western states. It was a caravan of Mormons. You have heard of the Mormons, I suppose--those _hereticos_ who have made settlements here beyond?”
”I have.”
”Well--one of these Mormons was the husband of the girl, or rather _ought_ to have been--since they were married just at starting. It appears that the young woman was against the marriage--for she loved some one more to her choice--but her father had forced her to it; and some quarrel happening just at the time with the favourite lover, she had consented--from pique, _sin duda_--to accept the Mormon.”
”She did accept him?”
”Yes--but now comes the strange part of the story. All I have told you is but a common tale, and the like occurs every day in the year.”
”Go on!”
”When she married the Mormon, she did not know he _was_ a Mormon; and it appears that these _hereticos_ have a name among your people worse than the very _Judios_. It was only after the caravan had got out into the plains, that the girl made this discovery. Another circ.u.mstance equally unpleasant soon came to her knowledge; and that was: that the man who pretended to be her husband was after all no husband--that he did not act to her as a husband should do--in short, that the marriage had been a sham--the ceremony having been performed by some Mormon brother, in the disguise of a _clerico_!”
”Was the girl's father aware of this deception!”
”Don Jose could not tell. He may have known that the man was a Mormon; but Don Jose was of opinion that the father himself was betrayed by the false marriage--though he was present at it, and actually bestowed the bride!”
”Strange!”
”Perhaps, _cavallero_! the strangest is yet to come. For what purpose, do you suppose, was this deception practised upon the poor girl?”
”I cannot guess--go on!”
”_Carrai_! it was a h.e.l.lish purpose; but you shall hear it. These Mormons have at their head a great chief priest--_una propheta_, as they call him. He is a polygamist--a perfect Turco--and keeps a harem of beautiful _ninas_, who pa.s.s under the name of 'spiritual wives.' It was only after the young Americana had got far out upon the plains--indeed, to the Big Timbers, where she escaped from him--that she found out the terrible fate for which her false husband had designed her. She learnt it from the other women who accompanied the caravan; and who, base wretches that they were! rather envied her the _honour_ by which she was to be distinguished! _Por Dios_! a terrible fate for a young creature innocent and virtuous like her!”
”Her fate? Quick--tell me! for what had the villain destined her?”
”_Virgen Santa_! for the harem of the Mormon prophet!”
”_Mira_!” exclaimed the Mexican, almost in the same breath--”_Mira_! the signal-smoke of Wa-ka-ra! To horse! to horse! _mueran los Arapahoes_!”
It was not the signal that called from my lips a convulsive exclamation.
It was wrung from my agony, ere the smoke had been descried. It was drowned amidst the shouts of the savage warriors, as they crowded forward out of the chasm. Leaping down from the ledge, and flinging myself on the back of my horse, I mingled in the melee.
As we swept from the gorge, I cast a glance behind. The sound of female voices caused me to look back. The Utah women, mounted on mules and horses, were coming down the canon, with the white huntress at their head! I wished a word with _her_; but it was too late. I dared neither pause nor go back. My Utah allies would have branded me as a coward--a traitor to my own cause! I did not hesitate a moment; but, joining in the ”Ugh-aloo,” I dashed into the midst of the dusky host, and galloped onward to the charge.
CHAPTER SEVENTY SEVEN.
THE SURPRISE.
The white cloud--a puff of powder-smoke--had scarcely scattered in the air, when a dark ma.s.s appeared upon the plain, emerging from the sulphureous vapour. It was a troop of hors.e.m.e.n--the warriors of Wa-ka-ra. On giving the signal they had issued forth from the lower canon, and were coming up the valley at a gallop. They were too distant for us to heat their charging cheer; but from right and left proceeded a double shout--a war-cry answering to our own; and, the moment after, a stream of dusky forms was seen pouring down each bluff, through the sloping gorges that led to the plain.
We could hear the shout that announced the astonishment of the Arapahoes. It betokened more than astonishment; there was terror in its wild intonations. It was evident that they had been taken altogether by surprise; having no suspicion that an enemy was near--least of all the dreaded foes who were now rus.h.i.+ng forward to surround them.
The red men are rarely betrayed into a panic. Accustomed from earliest youth to war, with all its wiles, they are always prepared for a _stampede_. It is the system they themselves follow, and are ever expecting to be practised against them. They accept the chances of attack--no matter how sudden or unforeseen--with all the coolness of a contest premeditated and prearranged. Even terror does not always create confusion in their ranks--for there are no ranks--and in conflicts with their own race, combinations that result from drill and discipline are of little consequence. It is usually a fight hand to hand, and man to man--where individual prowess prevails, and where superior personal strength and dexterity conduct to conquest. It is for this reason that the scalp-trophy is so highly prized: it is a proof that he who has taken it must have fought to obtain it. When ”hair is raised” in a night attack--by the chance of an arrow or a bullet--it is less esteemed. By the laws of Indian warfare the stratagem of a.s.sa.s.sination is permissible, and practised without stint. But a _coup_ of this kind is far less glorious, than to slay an enemy, in the open field, and under the broad glare of the sunlight. In conflicts by day, strategy is of slight advantage, and superior numbers are alone dreaded.