Part 44 (2/2)
The friendly chief had hinted a further promise to Marian--even an open interference in our favour--should that become necessary. He would follow close after the Mormon train; and, should our design prove a failure, might _then use his influence_ on our behalf. This would have been the best news of all. With such a prospect, we should have had little to fear for the result; but alas! before leaving the ground, an incident occurred that threatened to prevent our generous ally from fulfilling that promise, however formally he might have made it.
CHAPTER NINETY.
PROTECTOR AND PROTEGEE.
The incident referred to was the arrival of a scout, who, after the conflict, had followed upon the trail of the Arapahoes. This man brought the intelligence that the scattered enemy had again collected-- that, while fleeing from the _rout_, they had met with a large war-party of their own tribe--accompanied by another of their allies, the Cheyennes; that both together formed a band of several hundred warriors; and that they were now marching back towards the valley of the Huerfano--to take revenge for the death of Red-Hand, and the defeat which his party had sustained! This unexpected news brought the scalp-dance to an abrupt termination; and changed the whole aspect of the scene. The women, with loud cries, rushed towards their horses-- with the intention of betaking themselves to a place of security; while the warriors looked to their arms--determined to make stand against the approaching foe. It was not expected that the enemy would make their attack at once. Certainly not before night, and perhaps not for days.
The preparations to receive them were therefore entered upon with all the coolness and deliberation that attack or defence might require.
The encounter eventually came off; but it was only afterwards that I learnt the result. The Utahs were again victorious. Wa-ka-ra in this affair had given another proof of his strategic talent. He had made stand by the b.u.t.te, but with only half of his warriors--distributed in such a manner as to appear like the whole band. These, with their rifles, could easily defend the mound against the arrows of the enemy; and did so during an a.s.sault that lasted for several hours. Meanwhile the other half of his band had been posted upon the bluffs, hidden among the cedars; and, descending in the night, they had stolen unexpectedly upon the allied forces, and attacked them in the rear. A concerted sortie from the mound had produced complete confusion in the ranks of their enemies; and the Utahs not only obtained a victory, but ”hair”
sufficient to keep them scalp-dancing for a month. As I have said, it was afterwards that these facts came to my knowledge. I have here introduced them to show that we could no longer depend on any contingent intervention on the part of the Utah chief; and we were therefore the more keenly conscious that we should have to rely upon our own resources.
The Utahs showed no wish to detain us. They felt confident in their own strength, and in the fire-weapons--which they well knew how to use--and, after thanking their friendly chief for the great service he had rendered us, and confiding our wounded comrade to his care, we parted from him without further ceremony. I witnessed not his parting with Marian. Between them there was an interview, but of what nature I could not tell. The huntress had stayed behind; and the rest having ridden forward, no one of us was present at that parting scene. There may have been a promise that they should meet again: for that was expected by all of us; but whether there was, or what may have been the feelings of the Indian at parting with his pale-faced _protegee_, I was not to know. It was difficult to believe that the young chief could have looked so long on that face, so beautifully fair, without conceiving a pa.s.sion for its possessor. It was equally difficult to believe, that if this pa.s.sion existed, he would have thus surrendered her to the arms of another. An act so disinterested would have proved him n.o.ble indeed--the Rolla of the North! If the pa.s.sion really did exist, I knew there could be no reciprocity. As Marian galloped up, and gazed in the eyes of the handsome hunter--now entirely her own--her ardent glance told that Wingrove was the proud possessor of that magnificent maiden.
In volunteering to be one of our party Marian was submitting herself to a fearful risk. That of the rest of us was trifling in comparison. In reality we risked nothing, further than the failure of our plans; and a certain punishment if taken in the act of abduction. But even for this the Saints would scarcely demand our lives--unless in hot blood we should be slain upon the instant. Her position was entirely different.
The Mormon apostle, whether false husband or real, could and would claim her. There was no law in that land--at all events, no power--to hinder _him_ from acting as he should please; and it was easy to foresee what would be his apostolic pleasure. The very presence of Wingrove would stimulate him to a revengeful course; and should her Indian disguise be detected, Marian might look forward to a fate already deemed by her worse than death. She was sensible of all this; but it did not turn her from her determination. Her tender affection for Lilian--her earnest desire to save her sister from the peril too plainly impending, rendered her reckless about her _own_; and the bold girl had formed the resolution to dare everything--trusting to chance and her own strong will for the successful accomplishment of our purpose. I no longer attempted to dissuade her against going with us. How could I? Without her aid my own efforts might prove idle and fruitless. Lilian might not listen to _me_? Perhaps that secret influence, on which I had so confidently calculated, might exist only in a diminished degree?
Perhaps it might be gone for ever? Strange to say, though I had drawn some sweet inferences from those neglected flowers, every time the _bouquet_ came back to my memory, it produced a palpable feeling of pain! He who so cunningly sued, might hope for some measure of success?
And she, so sweetly solicited--more dangerous than if boldly beset--had her heart withstood the sapping of such a crafty besieger! _My_ influence might indeed be gone; or, if a remnant of it still existed, it might not turn the scale against that of her father--that fearful father! What should he care for one child, who had already abetted another to her shame?
Possessed by these thoughts, then, I tried not to turn Marian from her purpose. On the contrary, I rather encouraged it. On her influence with Lilian I had now placed my chief reliance. Without that, I should have been almost deprived of hope. It might turn out that Lilian no longer loved me. Time, or absence, might have inverted the _stylus_ upon the tender page of her young heart; and some other image may have become impressed upon its yielding tablet? If so, my own would sorely grieve; but, even if so, I would not that hers should be corrupted. She must not be the victim of a villain, if my hand could hinder it! ”No, Lilian! though loved and lost, I shall not add to the bitterness of your betrayal. My cup of grief will possess sufficient acerbity without mingling with it the gall of revenge.”
CHAPTER NINETY ONE.
THE NIGHT-CAMP.
We again rode through the upper canon of the Huerfano, keeping along the bank of the stream. Farther on we came to the forking of two trails-- the more southern one leading up to the Cuchada, to the pa.s.s of Sangre de Cristo. By it had the gold-seekers gone in company with the dragoons--the latter _en route_ for the new military post of Port Ma.s.sachusetts--the former, no doubt, intending to take the line of the Gila or Mohave to their still distant destination--the gold-bearing placers of California?
Above its upper canon the Huerfano bends suddenly to the north; and up its bank lies the route to Robideau's Pa.s.s--the same taken by the Mormon train. We had no difficulty in following their trail. The wheel and hoof-tracks had cut out a conspicuous road; and the numbers of both showed that the party was a large one--much larger than our previous information had led us to antic.i.p.ate. This was of little consequence-- since in any case, we could not have used force in the accomplishment of our design. I regarded it rather as a favourable circ.u.mstance. The greater the mult.i.tude, the less likelihood of an individual being closely observed, or speedily missed. We reached Robideau's Pa.s.s as the sun was sinking over the great plain of San Luis. Within the pa.s.s we lighted upon the ground of the Mormon encampment. It had been their halting-place of the night before. The wolves were prowling among the smouldering fires--whose half-burnt f.a.ggots still sent up their wreaths of filmy smoke.
We now knew the history of the captured waggon and slain teamsters. Our guide had learnt it from the Utah messenger. The vehicle had belonged to the Mormons; who, at the time the Arapahoes made their attack, were only a short distance in the advance. Instead of returning to the rescue of their unfortunate comrades, their dread of the Indians had caused them to yield ready obedience to the Napoleonic motto, _sauve qui peut_: and they had hurried onward without making stop, till night overtook them in the Robideau Pa.s.s. This version enabled me to explain what had appeared very strange conduct on the part of the escort. The character of the victims to the Arapaho attack would in some measure have accounted for the indifference of the dragoons. With the safety of the Mormons they had no concern; and would be likely enough to leave them to their fate. But the guide had ascertained that both gold-diggers and dragoons--disgusted with their saintly _compagnons du voyage_--had separated from them; and, having gone far ahead, in all probability knew nothing of the sanguinary scene that had been enacted in the valley of the Huerfano!
We resolved to pa.s.s the night on the ground of the deserted encampment.
By our guide's information--received from the runner--the Mormons were about thirty miles in advance of us. They were encamped on the banks of the Rio del Norte, there awaiting the answer of the Utah chief. That answer we should ourselves deliver on the following day. Having given the _coyotes_ their _conge_, we proceeded to pitch our buffalo-tents. A brace of these, borrowed from the friendly Utahs, formed part of the packing of our mules. One was intended for the use of the huntress-maiden--the other to give lodgment to the rest of our party.
Not but that all of us--even Marian herself--could have dispensed with such a shelter. We had another object in thus providing ourselves. It might be necessary to travel some days in the company of the Saints. In that case, the tents would serve not only for shelter, but as a place of _concealment_. The opaque covering of skins would protect us from the too scrutinising gaze of our fellow-travellers; and in all likelihood we--the hunters of the party--should stand in need of such privacy to readjust our disguises--disarranged in the chase. Under cover of the tents, we could renew our toilet without the danger of being intruded upon. Chiefly for this reason, then, had we enc.u.mbered ourselves with the skin lodges.
Thus far had we come without interruption. Though the trail was a route frequently travelled, both by Indians and whites, no one of either race had been encountered upon the way. We had seen neither man nor horse, excepting our own. For all that, we had not advanced without a certain circ.u.mspection. There was still a possibility of peril, of which we were aware; and we omitted no precautions that might enable us to avoid it. The danger I allude to was a probable encounter with some of our late enemies--the Arapahoes. Not those who had just been discomfited; but a party of my own pursuers of the preceding night. Some of these had returned to the b.u.t.te as already stated, but had _all_ gone back?
Might not others--stimulated by a more eager spirit of vengeance, or the ambition of striking a glorious _coup_ by my capture--have continued the pursuit? If so we might expect to encounter them on their return; or, if first perceived, we might fall into an ambuscade. In either case should they chance to outnumber us--to any great extent--a collision would be inevitable and dangerous.
If such a party was ahead of us--and it was still a question--we knew that they could not possibly be aware of the defeat sustained by their comrades under Red-Hand; and, having no knowledge of their own predicament, would fight without that dread, which such a circ.u.mstance might otherwise have inspired. It was scarcely probable either, that their party would be a very small one--by no means as small as our own.
It was not likely that less than a dozen of their warriors would venture over ground, where, at every moment, they would risk meeting with a more powerful band of their Utah enemies--to say nothing of an encounter with a retaliating party from the Mormon train? Weighing the probabilities that Arapahoes were ahead of us, we had taken due precaution to avoid the contingency of meeting them. We had looked for ”sign” to contradict our suspicions, or confirm them. We had not found any--either tracks of their horses, or any other trace of their pa.s.sage along the trail. In the canon, yes. There we had seen the hoof-prints of their horses: but not beyond it, nor at the entrance of Robideau's Pa.s.s. If they had gone forward, it must have been by some parallel route, and not upon the trail of the emigrant waggons? Nor yet upon the area of the encampment had we been able to meet with any indications of their presence: though we had spent the last minutes of daylight in a careful scrutiny of the ground.
As for myself I looked for indications of a very different kind; but equally without success. The absence of all Lilian sign satisfied us that we had no enemy to fear. Even the wary trapper saw no imprudence in our making a fire, and one was made--a large pile, for which the half-burnt f.a.ggots scattered over the camp afforded the ready material.
The fire was not called for by the cold--for the night was a mild one-- but simply to serve the purposes of our _cuisine_; and, hungered by the long ride, we all did full justice to our supper of dried deer-meat, eaten _alfresco_.
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