Part 46 (1/2)
”_Well, amigo_; it was there I was born: and there lived I, till I was twenty-five years of age--up to the time when that calamity befell me, and mine--the same I am about to speak of. I may say two years after that time; for I did not leave the neighbourhood till I had taken revenge upon those who were the cause of my misfortunes. I have spoken of Gabriella Gonzales. I have told you that I loved her; but I could not find words to tell you how much I loved her. You, who have come all this way in pursuit of a sweetheart,--you, _cavallero_, can understand all that. Like you with yours, I too could have followed Gabriella to the end of the world! _Puez amigo_! Like you, I had the good fortune to be loved in return.”
I could not divine the object of the Mexican in proclaiming this similitude. Perhaps it was done with the view of cheering me--for the quick-witted fellow had not failed to notice my despondency. It could only be a conjecture on his part: for how could he know ought of Lilian, beyond the fact of my preference for her, and that she was the object of our expedition? Of course he was aware, like all the others, of the purpose of our pursuit. From Sure-shot, or Wingrove, he might have learnt a little more; but neither he nor they could possibly have been acquainted with a sentiment of which, alas! I was myself in doubt--the very doubt which was producing my despondency. His incidental allusion could have been only conjecture. I would have joyed to believe it just; but whether just or not it had the effect of soothing me; and, silently accepting it, I permitted him to continue his narration.
”I need not enter into the particulars of my wooing. Gabriella lived upon a _hato_ some distance below Valverde, and nearer to the desert of the Dead Man's Journey (_Jornada del muerto_)--of which no doubt you have heard mention. Her father was a _hatero_, and owned large flocks of sheep. He pastured them upon the great plains on the eastern side of the Sierra Blanca--where I was in the habit of going in my capacity of _cibolero_ to hunt the buffaloes. The _hatero_ and I became acquainted--became friends. He invited me to visit his house, and I went. I saw Gabriella for the first time; and ever afterwards was her beautiful face before my eyes. I went often, as you may believe, _cavallero_; but for a long time I was uncertain whether I was welcome-- I mean to Gabriella: for her father still continued my friend. It was only after the incident I have mentioned--my saving her from the bear-- that I felt certain my love was returned.
”She had ventured too far into the mountains, where I had chanced to be at the time. I heard her voice calling for help. I ran through the rocks, and came up, just as a huge bear was springing upon her. I was a good shot, and my bullet brought down the monster--stretching him lifeless at her feet. Gabriella thanked me with sweet words--with smiles that were far sweeter, and told me still more. From that hour I knew that she was mine. Shortly after she consented to marry me.”
”You were married, then?”
”Married--but only for an hour.”
”Only for an hour!”
”Ah! _senor_; just so. One hour of wedded life, and then we were parted for ever. Death parted us. Death to her--to me worse than death; despair that has never left me--no--never will.”
The voice of the speaker trembled in sorrowful tone. It was manifestly a sorrow that defied any efforts I might have made at consolation. I made none; but in silence and with eager attention awaited to hear the denouement of a drama, whose prologue promised such a tragical ending.
”_Puez, senor_,” proceeded the narrator, after a short silence, ”Gabriella, as I have said, consented to marry me, and we were married.
It was the day of our wedding. We had parted from the church; and with our friends had gone out into the country for a _dia de campo_. There were about twenty of us in all, young men and girls--about, an equal number of each--all in their holiday dresses, just as they had been to the church. Most of the girls were Gabriella's bridesmaids, and still wore the flowers and jewels they had used at the ceremony. The place chosen for our _dia de campo_ was a pretty spot, about a mile distant from the town. It was a glade in the midst of the _chapparal_, surrounded by beautiful trees, and sweet-smelling flowers. We went afoot: for the distance did not make it worth while for us to ride.
Besides, we preferred enjoying the ramble, without being enc.u.mbered with horses. Well, _senor_; we had arrived on the ground, spread out the repast we had brought with us, uncorked the wine-bottles, and were in the full tide of enjoyment--talking and laughing gaily--when all of a sudden--we heard the trampling of horses. Not of one or two; but the hoof-strokes of a whole troop. At first we thought it might be the _cavallada_ of some rich proprietor, galloping past the place. We knew that horses were pastured in that neighbourhood; and it was like enough to be one of the half-wild droves straying through the _chapparal_.
Still we were not without apprehension: for it might also be a troop of Apaches--who in those times made frequent forays upon the defenceless settlements. Alas, _cavallero_! our apprehensions proved but too just.
We had been seated on the gra.s.s, around our festive preparations. We had scarce time to spring to our feet, ere the yell of the savages sounded in our ears; and almost on the instant the glade was filled with dusky warriors. They were all upon horseback, brandis.h.i.+ng their long lances, and winding their _lazos_ around their heads. Fearfully painted, and whooping their wild cries, they resembled the very _demonios_! We could neither retreat nor defend ourselves. Against such odds it would have been idle to have attempted the latter: besides, we were all without weapons. On an occasion like that which had called us forth, one does not think of preparing for such an event. I own it was imprudent of us to go out unarmed--more especially when the country was filled with Indian _novedades_--but who could have dreamt that such was to be the fatal termination to our joyous _dia de campo? Ay de mi_!
I may well call it fatal. Very few of our men survived that dreadful day. Two or three of the young fellows managed to retreat into the bushes; and afterwards got off. The others were killed upon the spot-- most of them impaled upon the spears of the Apaches! The women were left untouched: for the Indians rarely kill our women. Them they reserve for a different destiny. Ah! _cavallero_! a destiny worse than death! Not one of them escaped. The poor _ninas_ were all made captives; and each, borne off in the arms of a swarthy savage, was mounted upon his horse. Gabriella, the queen of all,--because by far the most beautiful--was chosen by the chief. I saw her struggling in his grasp, I saw him dragging her over the ground, and raising her to the withers of his steed. I saw him leap up behind her, and prepare to ride off--Gabriella, my beloved--my bride!”
Here the speaker paused--as if overcome by the very remembrance of the incidents he was relating; and it was some time before he became sufficiently composed to resume his narrative.
CHAPTER NINETY FOUR.
A ROUGH DRAG.
Recovering himself, at length, the narrator proceeded:--
”You may ask, _senor_, how I came to be witness of all these outrages.
Was I not speared like my companions? Was I not, like them, killed upon the spot! I answer, no. I was still alive; and I might almost say uninjured. True I had been beaten and bruised in the struggle--for I had made an impotent effort at defending myself--but they had not killed me. I was for a time stunned, and senseless; but my senses returned before the fray was over; and I was a witness to the closing scene. It was then I saw the young girls in the act of being hurried off by their captors. It was then my heart was wrung, by the spectacle of Gabriella struggling in the arms of the chief. I was helpless to interfere. I was prostrate upon the earth, and held fast in the gripe of two brawny savages--one kneeling on each side of me. I expected them at every instant to put an end to my life. I awaited the final blow--either the stroke of a tomahawk or the thrust of a spear. I only wondered they were delaying my death. My wonders ceased, when I at length got my eyes on the face of the Apache chief--which up to that moment I had not seen.
Then I recognised an old enemy, whom I had encountered on the plains; and I saw that the recognition was mutual. This explained why they had not finished me on the spot. I was spared only to suffer some more horrible mode of death.
”It was not long till I was made acquainted with their intention. I saw the chief telegraph some order to the Indians who guarded me; which one of the latter hastened to execute. A lazo was looped around my ankle, and carried out. The other end of it was made fast to the tail of a horse; after which the Indian leaped upon the back of the animal. The other also mounted his own horse; and the whole troop appeared ready to gallop off. I could see that the savages were hastening their departure. There was but a small band of them; and, as the place was near a large town, they had reason to fear pursuit. Those of our party who had escaped would return at once to the town--where troops were stationed at the time. This explained to me the hurried movements the Indians were making. _Carrambo, senor_! I had not much opportunity to reflect on the chances of our being rescued by our friends. I saw what the savages intended for me; and that was sufficient to occupy all my thoughts. I was to be dragged at the tail of a horse!
”Yes, _cavallero_! and the infernal design was instantly carried into execution; for in a moment after, the chief gave the signal to ride forward, and the whole troop went off at a gallop. He to whose croup I was attached was last in the line; and, consequently, I was trailed along without coming in contact with the others--the long lazo separating me from his horse by a distance of more than a dozen yards.
Fortunately the ground over which they dragged me, was free from rocks or other inequalities--else I should have been torn to pieces. It chanced to be a smooth, gra.s.sy sward; and protected by my leathern _jaqueta_ and _calzoneros_, I was less injured than one might expect.
It was my ankle that suffered most--for the loop soon slipped down below the joint, and nearly drew the bone out of its socket. That, _senor_, is how I came to be '_un cojo_' as you see.”
With a bitter smile the speaker pointed to his deformed foot, and then continued:--”Well--I suppose it would have killed me in the end: since the smooth turf did not extend far in the direction the savages were taking. But just then an idea came into my head, that gave me some hope of being able to relieve myself from my perilous situation. After the first hundred yards or so had been pa.s.sed over, I saw that the savages had ceased to pay any attention to me. They were all too eager to hurry onward; besides, they were occupied with the women captives. It occurred to me, that if I could only get my foot free from the noose, I might part company with my captors, without any of them perceiving it.
I remembered that I had a knife in my pocket; and, as my hands had been left free, I believed that I could get my fingers upon it, notwithstanding the rapid rate at which I was being jerked over the ground. I tried to get out my knife, and succeeded. As good luck would have it, just then, the path on which my captors were travelling, narrowed between two groves of timber--forming a kind of avenue or lane.
Through this the troop had to pa.s.s in Indian file--my particular horseman still keeping in the rear. While going through, the gallop of the horses was interrupted--or at least their pace was greatly slackened--the rearmost of the band being thrown almost into a walk.