Chapter 54 - The Scalp Hunters by Mayne Reid
An Unexpected Rencontre
As I rode off from the mountain foot, the white peak glistened at a distance of thirty miles. There was not a hillock between: not a brake or bush, excepting the low shrubs of the artemisia.
It was not yet noon. Could I reach the snowy mountain before sunset? If so, I trusted in being able to follow our old trail to the mine. Thence, I might keep on to the Del Norte, by striking a branch of the Paloma or some other lateral stream. Such were my plans, undefined as I rode forth.
I knew that I should be pursued almost to the gates of El Paso; and, when I had ridden forward about a mile, a glance to the rear showed me that the Indians had just reached the plain, and were striking out after me.
It was no longer a question of speed. I knew that I had the heels of their whole cavalcade. Did my horse possess the “bottom”?
I knew the tireless, wiry nature of the Spanish mustang; and their animals were of that race. I knew they could gallop for a long day without breaking down, and this led me to fear for the result.
Speed was nothing now, and I made no attempt to keep it up. I was determined to economise the strength of my steed. I could not be overtaken so long as he lasted; and I galloped slowly forward, watching the movements of my pursuers, and keeping a regular distance ahead of them.
At times I dismounted to relieve my horse, and ran alongside of him. My dog followed, occasionally looking up in my face, and seemingly conscious why I was making such a hurried journey.
During all the day I was never out of sight of the Indians; in fact, I could have distinguished their arms and counted their numbers at any time. There were in all about a score of horsemen. The stragglers had gone back, and only the well-mounted men now continued the pursuit.
As I neared the foot of the snowy peak, I remembered there was water at our old camping-ground in the pass; and I pushed my horse faster, in order to gain time to refresh both him and myself. I intended to make a short halt, and allow the noble brute to breathe himself and snatch a bite of the bunch-grass that grew around the spring. There was nothing to fear so long as his strength held out, and I knew that this was the plan to sustain it.
It was near sundown as I entered the defile. Before riding in among the rocks I looked back. During the last hour I had gained upon my pursuers. They were still at least three miles out upon the plain, and I saw that they were toiling on wearily.
I fell into a train of reflection as I rode down the ravine. I was now upon a known trail. My spirits rose; my hopes, so long clouded over, began to assume a brightness and buoyancy, greater from the very influence of reaction. I should still be able to rescue my betrothed. My whole energies, my fortune, my life, would be devoted to this one object. I would raise a band stronger than ever Seguin had commanded. I should get followers among the returning employés of the caravan; teamsters whose term of service had expired. I would search the posts and mountain rendezvous for trappers and hunters. I would apply to the Mexican Government for aid, in money—in troops. I would appeal to the citizens of El Paso, of Chihuahua, of Durango.
“Ge-hosaphat! Hyur’s a fellur ridin’ ’ithout eyther saddle or bridle!”
Five or six men with rifles sprang out from the rocks, surrounding me.
“May an Injun eat me ef ’tain’t the young fellur as tuk me for a grizzly! Billee! look hyur! hyur he is! the very fellur! He! he! he! He! he! he!”
“Rube! Garey!”
“What! By Jove, it’s my friend Haller! Hurrah! Old fellow, don’t you know me?”
“Saint Vrain!”
“That it is. Don’t I look like him? It would have been a harder task to identify you but for what the old trapper has been telling us about you. But come! how have you got out of the hands of the Philistines?”
“First tell me who you all are. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, we’re a picket! The army is below.”
“The army?”
“Why, we call it so. There’s six hundred of us; and that’s about as big an army as usually travels in these parts.”
“But who? What are they?”
“They are of all sorts and colours. There’s the Chihuahuanos and Passenos, and niggurs, and hunters, and trappers, and teamsters. Your humble servant commands these last-named gentry. And then there’s the band of your friend Seguin—”
“Seguin! Is he—”
“What? He’s at the head of all. But come! they’re camped down by the spring. Let us go down. You don’t look overfed; and, old fellow, there’s a drop of the best Paso in my saddle-bags. Come!”
“Stop a moment! I am pursued.”
“Pursued!” echoed the hunters, simultaneously raising their rifles, and looking up the ravine.
“How many?”
“About twenty.”
“Are they close upon you?”
“No.”
“How long before we may expect them?”
“They are three miles back, with tired horses, as you may suppose.”
“Three-quarters—halt an hour at any rate. Come! we’ll have time to go down and make arrangements for their reception. Rube! you with the rest can remain here. We shall join you before they get forward. Come, Haller!—come!”
Following my faithful and warm-hearted friend, I rode on to the spring. Around it I found “the army”; and it had somewhat of that appearance, for two or three hundred of the men were in uniform. These were the volunteer guards of Chihuahua and El Paso.
The late raid of the Indians had exasperated the inhabitants, and this unusually strong muster was the consequence. Seguin, with the remnant of his band, had met them at El Paso, and hurried them forward on the Navajo trail. It was from him Saint Vrain had heard of my capture; and in hopes of rescuing me had joined the expedition with about forty or fifty employés of the caravan.
Most of Seguin’s band had escaped after the fight in the barranca, and among the rest, I was rejoiced to hear, El Sol and La Luna. They were now on their return with Seguin, and I found them at his tent.
Seguin welcomed me as the bearer of joyful news. They were still safe. That was all I could tell him, and all he asked for during our hurried congratulation.
We had no time for idle talk. A hundred men immediately mounted and rode up the ravine. On reaching the ground occupied by the picket, they led their horses behind the rocks, and formed an ambuscade. The order was, that all the Indians must be killed or taken.
The plan hastily agreed upon was, to let them pass the ambushed men, and ride on until they had got in sight of the main body; then both divisions were to close upon them.
It was a dry ravine above the spring, and the horses had made no tracks upon its rocky bed. Moreover, the Indians, ardent in their pursuit of me, would not be on the outlook for any sign before reaching the water. Should they pass the ambuscade, then not a man of them would escape, as the defile on both sides was walled in by a precipice.
After the others had gone, about a hundred men at the spring leaped into their saddles, and sat with their eyes bent up the pass.
They were not long kept waiting. A few minutes after the ambuscade had been placed, an Indian showed himself round an angle of the rock, about two hundred yards above the spring. He was the foremost of the warriors, and must have passed the ambushed horsemen; but as yet the latter lay still. Seeing a body of men, the savage halted with a quick jerk; and then, uttering a cry, wheeled and rode back upon his comrades. These, imitating his example, wheeled also; but before they had fairly turned themselves in the ravine, the “cached” horsemen sprang out in a body from the rocks and came galloping down.
The Indians, now seeing that they were completely in the trap, with overpowering numbers on both sides of them, threw down their spears and begged for mercy.
In a few minutes they were all captured. The whole affair did not occupy half an hour; and, with our prisoners securely tied, we returned to the spring.
The leading men now gathered around Seguin to settle on some plan for attacking the town. Should we move on to it that night?
I was asked for my advice, and of course answered, “Yes! the sooner the better, for the safety of the captives.”
My feelings, as well as those of Seguin, could not brook delay. Besides, several of our late comrades were to die on the morrow. We might still be in time to save them.
How were we to approach the valley?
This was the next point to be discussed.
The enemy would now be certain to have their videttes at both ends, and it promised to be clear moonlight until morning. They could easily see such a large body approaching from the open plain. Here then was a difficulty.
“Let us divide,” said one of Seguin’s old band; “let a party go in at each end. That’ll git ’em in the trap.”
“Wagh!” replied another, “that would never do. Thar’s ten miles o’ rough wood thar. If we raised the niggurs by such a show as this, they’d take to them, gals and all, an’ that’s the last we’d see o’ them.”
This speaker was clearly in the right. It would never do to make our attack openly. Stratagem must again be used.
A head was now called into the council that soon mastered the difficulty, as it had many another. That was the skinless, earless head of the trapper Rube.
“Cap,” said he, after a short delay, “’ee needn’t show yur crowd till we’ve first took the luk-outs by the eend o’ the kenyun.”
“How can we take them?” inquired Seguin.
“Strip them twenty niggurs,” replied Rube, pointing to our captives, “an’ let twenty o’ us put on their duds. Then we kin take the young fellur—him hyur as tuk me for the grizzly! He! he! he! Ole Rube tuk for a grizzly! We kin take him back a pris’ner. Now, cap, do ’ee see how?”
“You would have these twenty to keep far in the advance then, capture the videttes, and wait till the main body comes up?”
“Sartinly; thet’s my idee adzactly.”
“It is the best, the only one. We shall follow it.” And Seguin immediately ordered the Indians to be stripped of their dresses. These consisted mostly of garments that had been plundered from the people of the Mexican towns, and were of all cuts and colours.
“I’d recommend ’ee, cap,” suggested Rube, seeing that Seguin was looking out to choose the men for his advance party, “I’d recommend ’ee to take a smart sprinklin’ of the Delawars. Them Navaghs is mighty ’cute and not easily bamfoozled. They mout sight white skin by moonlight. Them o’ us that must go along ’ll have to paint Injun, or we’ll be fooled arter all; we will.”
Seguin, taking this hint, selected for the advance most of the Delaware and Shawano Indians; and these were now dressed in the clothes of the Navajoes. He himself, with Rube, Garey, and a few other whites, made up the required number. I, of course, was to go along and play the role of a prisoner.
The whites of the party soon accomplished their change of dress, and “painted Injun,” a trick of the prairie toilet well known to all of them.
Rube had but little change to make. His hue was already of sufficient deepness for the disguise, and he was not going to trouble himself by throwing off the old shirt or leggings. That could hardly have been done without cutting both open, and Rube was not likely to make such a sacrifice of his favourite buckskins. He proceeded to draw the other garments over them, and in a short time was habited in a pair of slashing calzoneros, with bright buttons from the hip to the ankle. These, with a smart, tight-fitting jacket that had fallen to his share, and a jaunty sombrero cocked upon his head, gave him the air of a most comical dandy. The men fairly yelled at seeing him thus metamorphosed, and old Rube himself grinned heartily at the odd feelings which the dress occasioned him.
Before the sun had set, everything was in readiness, and the advance started off. The main body, under Saint Vrain, was to follow an hour after. A few men, Mexicans, remained by the spring, in charge of the Navajo prisoners.