Chapter 41 - The Hunt of the Wild Horse by Mayne Reid
The Indian Spy
It was past the hour of midnight. The lightning, that for some time had appeared only at long intervals, now ceased altogether. Its fitful glare gave place to a softer, steadier light, for the moon had arisen, and was climbing up the eastern sky. Cumulus clouds still hung in the heavens, slowly floating across the canopy; but their masses were detached, and the azure firmament was visible through the spaces between. The beautiful planet Venus, and here and there a solitary star, twinkled in these blue voids, or gleamed through the filmy bordering of the clouds; but the chiefs of the constellations alone were visible. The moon’s disc was clear and well defined, whiter from contrast with the dark cumuli: and her beam frosted the prairie till the grass looked hoar. There was neither mist nor mirage; the electric fluid had purged the atmosphere of its gases, and the air was cool, limpid, and bracing. Though the moon had passed the full, so brilliant was her beam, that an object could have been distinguished far off upon the plain, whose silvery level extended on all sides to the horizon. The thick black clouds, however, moving silently over the sky, occasioned long intervals of eclipse, during which the prairie, as before, was shrouded in sombre darkness.
Up to this time, Garey and I had remained by the head of the little gorge, through which we had ascended. The moon was behind us, for the guerrilla was on the western side of the mesa. The shadow of the mound was thrown far out upon the plain, and just beyond its well-defined edge was the line of sentinels, thickly posted. On our knees among the low shrubbery, we were unseen by them, while we commanded a perfect view of the whole troop, as they smoked, chattered, shouted, and sang—for they gave such tokens of their jovial humour.
After quietly watching them for some time, Garey left me to take a turn round the summit, and reconnoitre the opposite or eastern side. In that direction lay the rancheria; and if the picket was still stationed there, we might soon expect the rescue. My rangers were not the men to tarry, called forth on such a duty; and, under Rube’s guidance, they would be most likely to make their approach by the rear of the mound. Garey, therefore, went in that direction to make his reconnaissance.
He had not parted from me more than a minute, when a dark object out upon the plain attracted my glance. I fancied it was the figure of a man; though it was prostrate and flattened against the ground, just as old Rube had appeared when making his escape!
Surely it was not he? I had but an indistinct view of it, for it was full six hundred yards from the mesa, and directly beyond the line of the guerrilleros. Just then a cloud crossing the moon’s disc, shrouded the plain, and the dark object was no longer visible.
I kept my eyes fixed on the spot, and waited for the returning light.
When the cloud passed, the figure was no longer where I had first noticed it; but nearer to the horsemen I perceived the same object, and in the same attitude as before!
It was now within less than two hundred yards of the Mexican line, but a bunch of tufted grass appeared to shelter it from the eyes of the guerrilleros—since none of them gave any sign that it was perceived by them.
From my elevated position, the grass did not conceal it. I had a clear view of the figure, and was certain it was the body of a man, and, still more, of a naked man—for it glistened under the sheen of the moonlight, as only a naked body would have done.
Up to this time I had fancied, or rather feared, it might be Rube. I say feared—for I had no wish to see Rube, upon his return, present himself in that fashion.
Surely he would not come back alone? And why should he be thus playing the spy, since he already knew the exact position of our enemy?
The apparition puzzled me, and I was for a while in doubt.
But the naked body reassured me. It could not be Rube. The skin was of a dark hue, but so was that of the old trapper. Though born white, the sun, dirt, gunpowder, and grease, with the smoke of many a prairie-fire, had altered Rube’s complexion to the true copper-tint; and in point of colour, he had but little advantage over a full-blood Indian. But Rube would not have been naked; he never doffed his buckskins. Besides, the oily glitter of that body was not Rube’s; his “hide” would not have shone so under the moonlight. No; the prostrate form was not his.
Another cloud cast new shadows; and while these continued, I saw no more of the skulking figure.
As the moon again shone forth, I perceived that it was gone from behind the tuft of grass.
I scanned the ground in the immediate neighbourhood. It was not to be seen; but on looking farther out, I could just distinguish the figure of a man, bent forward and rapidly gliding away.
I followed it with my eyes until it disappeared in the distance, as though melting into the moonlight.
While gazing over the distant plain in the direction whence the figure had retreated, I was startled at beholding, not one, but many forms dimly outlined upon the prairie edge.
“It was Rube,” thought I; “and yonder are the rangers!”
I strained my eyes to the utmost. They were horsemen beyond a doubt; but, to my astonishment, instead of being close together, one followed another in single file, until a long line was traced against the sky like the links of a gigantic chain.
Except in the narrow defile, or the forest-path, my rangers never rode in that fashion. It could not be they!
At this crisis a new thought came into my mind. More than once in my life had I witnessed a spectacle similar to that now under my eyes—more than once had I looked upon it with dread. That serried line was an old acquaintance: it was a band of Indian warriors on their midnight march—upon the war-trail!
The actions of the spy were explained: he was an Indian runner. The party to whom he belonged was about to approach the mesa—perhaps with the design of encamping there—he had been sent forward to reconnoitre the ground.
What effect his tale would have, I could not guess. I could see that the horsemen were halted—perhaps awaiting the return of their messenger. They were too distant to be seen by the Mexicans; and the minute after, they were also invisible to my eyes upon the darkly-shadowed prairie.
Before communicating with Garey, I resolved to wait for another gleam of moonlight, so that I might have a more distinct story to tell.