"Let him do it, Fabian," said Pepe. "Never had man a more n.o.ble buckler, than the heart of the giant which beats in fear for you."

The Indian chief, rifle in hand, listened as he counted, but excepting the murmur of the water, a profound silence reigned everywhere.

He fired at length, and the leaves of the trees flew into the air; but as the three hunters knelt in a row they did not present a large aim, and the ball pa.s.sed at some little distance from them.

The Blackbird waited a minute and cried again: "The Indian was wrong, he acknowledges his error, he will seek for the white warriors elsewhere."

"Who believes that?" said Pepe; "he is more sure than ever. He is about to leave us alone for a few minutes, until he has finished with that poor devil yonder, which will not belong--since the death of a white is a spectacle which an Indian is always in a hurry to enjoy."

"But had we better not make some effort in favour of the unlucky man?"

said Fabian.

"Some unexpected circ.u.mstances may come to our a.s.sistance," replied Bois-Rose. "Whatever Pepe says, the Indians may still doubt, but if we show ourselves, all is over. To accept an alliance with these Indians, even against Don Estevan de Arechiza, would be an unworthy cowardice.

What can we do?" added he, sadly.

One fear tormented him; he had seen Fabian in danger when his blood was boiling with pa.s.sion, but had he the calm courage which meets death coolly? Had he the stoical resignation of which he himself had given so many proofs? The Canadian took a sudden resolution.

"Listen, Fabian," said he; "can I speak to you the language of a man?

Will the words which your ears will transmit to your heart not freeze it with terror?"

"Why doubt my courage?" replied Fabian in a tone of gentle reproach.

"Whatever you say, I will hear without growing pale; whatever you do, I will do also, without trembling."

"Don Fabian speaks truly, Pepe; look at his eye," said the Canadian, pressing Fabian in his arms; then he continued solemnly: "Never were three men in greater peril than we are now; our enemies are seven times our number; when each of us has killed six of them, there would still remain a number equal to our own."

"We have done it before," said Pepe.

"And we shall do it again," cried Fabian.

"Good, my child," said Bois-Rose, "but whatever happens, these demons must not take us alive. See, Fabian!" added the old man, in a voice that he tried to keep firm while unsheathing a long knife, "if we were left without powder or ammunition at the mercy of these dogs, about to fall into their hands, and this poignard in my hand was our only chance, what would you say?"

"I would say, strike, father, and let us die together!"

"Yes, yes," cried the Canadian, looking with indescribable tenderness at him who called him father, "it will be one means of never being separated." And he held out to Fabian his hand trembling with emotion, which the latter kissed respectfully.

"Now," said Bois-Rose, "whatever happens we shall not be separated. G.o.d will do the rest, and we shall try to save this unlucky man."

"To work then!" said Fabian.

"Not yet, my child; let us see what these red demons are about to do."

Meanwhile the Indians had ranged themselves in two lines, and the white man was placed a little in advance of them.

"I see what they are going to do," said Bois-Rose, "they are going to try if the poor wretch's legs are better than his arms. They are about to chase him."

"How so?" said Fabian.

"They will place their captive a little in advance, then at a given signal he will run. Then all the Indians will run after him, lance and hatchet in hand. If the white is quick enough to reach the river before them, we will call to him to swim to us. Some shots will protect him, and he may reach here safe and sound. But if terror paralyses his limbs, as it did his hands just now, the foremost Indian will break his head with a blow from a hatchet. In any case we shall do our best."

At this moment the five other Indians returned armed from head to foot, and now joined the rest. Fabian looked with profound compa.s.sion at the unlucky white man, who with haggard eye, and features distorted by terror, waited in horrible anguish until the signal was given. But the Blackbird pointed to the bare feet of his warriors, and then to the leather buskins which protected the feet of the white man. They then saw the latter sit down and take them off slowly, as if to gain a few seconds.

"The demons!" cried Fabian.

"Hush!" said Bois-Rose, "do not by discovering yourself destroy the last chance of life for the poor wretch!"

Fabian shut his eyes so as not to witness the horrible scene about to take place. At length the white man rose to his feet, and the Indians stood devouring him with their looks, until the Blackbird clapped his hands together, and then the howlings which followed could only be compared to those of a troop of jaguars in pursuit of a deer. The unlucky captive ran with great swiftness, but his pursuers bounded after him like tigers. Thanks to the start which he had had, he cleared safely a part of the distance which separated him from the river, but the stones which cut his feet and the sharp thorns of the nopals soon caused him to slacken his pace, and one of the Indians rushed up and made a furious thrust at him with his lance. It pa.s.sed between his arm and his body, and the Indian losing his equilibrium, fell on the sand.

Gayferos, for it was he, appeared to hesitate a moment whether he should pick up the lance which the Indian had let fall, but then rapidly continued his course. That instant's hesitation was fatal to him. All at once, amidst the cloud of dust raised by his feet, a hatchet shone over the head of the unfortunate Mexican, who was seen falling to the earth.

Bois-Rose was about to fire, but the fear of killing him whom he wished to defend, stopped his hand. For a single moment the wind cleared away the dust, and he fired, but it was too late, the Indian who fell under his ball was brandishing in his hand the scalp of the unhappy man. To this unexpected shot, the savages replied with howls, and then rushed away from what they believed to be only a corpse. Soon, however, they saw the man rise, with his head laid bare, who after straggling a few paces, fell again, while the blood flowed in torrents from his wounds.

"Ah!" cried Bois-Rose, "if there remains in him a spark of life--and people do not die only from scalping--we shall save him yet; I swear we shall!"

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

INDIAN CUNNING.

As the Canadian uttered the generous oath, wrung from him by indignation, it seemed to him that a supplicating voice reached him.

"Is not the poor wretch calling for aid?" And he raised his head from behind its shelter.

At sight of the fox-skin cap which covered the head of the giant, and of the long and heavy rifle which he raised like a willow wand, the Indians recognised one of their formidable northern enemies, and recoiled in astonishment--for the Blackbird alone had been instructed as to whom they were seeking. Bois-Rose, looking towards the sh.o.r.e now perceived the unlucky Gayferos stretching out his arms towards him, and feebly calling for help. The dying Indian still held the scalp in his clenched hand.

At this terrible spectacle the Canadian drew himself up to his full height. "Fire on these dogs!" cried he, "and remember--never let them take you alive."

So saying, he resolutely entered the water, and any other man would have had it up to his head, but the Canadian had all his shoulders above the surface.

"Do not fire till after me," said Pepe to Fabian; "my hand is surer than yours, and my Kentucky rifle carries twice as far as your Liege gun."

And he held his rifle ready to fire at the slightest sign of hostility from the Indians.

Meanwhile, Bois-Rose still advanced, the water growing gradually shallower, when an Indian raised his rifle ready to fire on the intrepid hunter; but a bullet from Pepe stopped him, and he fell forward on his face.

"Now you, Don Fabian!" said Pepe, throwing himself on the ground to reload, after the American custom in such cases.

Fabian fired, but his rifle having a shorter range, the shot only drew from the Indian at whom he aimed a cry of rage. But Pepe had reloaded, and stood ready to fire again.

There was a moment's hesitation among the Indians, by which Bois-Rose profited to draw towards him the body of the unlucky Gayferos. He, clinging to his shoulders, had the presence of mind to leave his preserver's arms free; who, with his burden, again entered the water, going backwards. Then his rifle was heard, and an Indian's death-cry immediately followed. This valiant retreat, protected by Pepe and Fabian, awed the Indians, and some minutes after, Bois-Rose triumphantly placed the fainting Gayferos on the island.

"There are three of them settled for," said he, "and now we shall have a few minutes' truce. Well, Fabian, do you see the advantage of firing in file? You did not do badly for a beginner, and I can a.s.sure you that when you have a Kentucky rifle like us, you will be a good marksman."

Then to Gayferos, "We came too late to save the skin of your head, my poor fellow, but console yourself, it is no such dreadful thing. I have many friends in the same condition, who are none the worse for it. Your life is saved--that is the great thing--and we shall endeavour to bind up your wounds."

Some strips torn from the shirt of Gayferos served to bind around his head a large ma.s.s of willow leaves crushed together and steeped in water, and concealed the hideous wound. The blood was then washed from his face.

"You see," said Bois-Rose, still clinging to the idea of keeping Fabian near him, "you must learn to know the habits of the desert, and of the Indians. The villains, who see, by the loss of three of their men, what stuff we are made of, have retired to concoct some stratagem. You hear how silent all is after so much noise?"

The desert, indeed, had recovered its silence, the leaves only trembled in the evening breeze, and the water began to display brilliant colours in the setting sun.