Wood Rangers: The Trappers of Sonora

At the hour when Tiburcio was about leaving the hacienda, two persons were seated by this fire, in the attitude of men who were resting after a day of fatigue. These persons were the trappers, who had already made their appearance at La Poza.

There was nothing remarkable in two men having made their camp-fire in the woods; it was their proximity to a hacienda – and that, too, the Hacienda del Venado – that rendered the fact significant. The trappers knew well enough that the hacienda was close at hand; it followed, then, that they had some reasons of their own for not availing themselves of its hospitality. A large pile of fagots lay near the fire, evidently collected to feed it, and this proved that the men who had kindled it intended to pass the night on the spot.

The appearance of these two men would have been striking, even in the light of day; but under that of the fire it was picturesque – almost fantastic. The older of the two was habited in a costume half Indian, half Canadian; on his head was a sort of bonnet, shaped like a truncated cone, and made out of the skin of a fox; a blue striped cotton shirt covered his shoulders, and beside him upon the ground lay a sort of woollen surtout – the capote of the Canadians. His legs were encased in leathern leggins, reaching from the thigh downward to the ankle; but instead of moccasins he wore upon his feet a pair of strong iron-bound shoes, capable of lasting him for a couple of years at the least. A large buffalo-horn, suspended from the shoulder, contained his powder; and upon his right side hung a leathern pouch, well filled with bullets. In fine, a long rifle, with a barrel nearly six feet in length, rested near his hand; and this, with a large hunting-knife stuck in his belt, completed his equipment. His hair already showed symptoms of turning grey and a long scar which crossed his temples, and appeared to run all round his head, showed that if his scalp was still there he had some time or other run the risk of having it raised. His bronzed complexion denoted a long exposure to sun, wind, and rain; but for all this, his countenance shone with an expression of good-humour. This was in conformity with his herculean strength – for nature usually bestows upon these colossal men a large share of kind-heartedness.

The other trapper appeared to be some five or six years younger; and although by no means a man of small stature, he was but a pigmy alongside his gigantic companion. His countenance also lacked the serenity which distinguished that of the other – his black eyes gave out an expression of boldness approaching to effrontery; and the play of his features indicated a man whose passions, fiery by nature, once aroused, would lead him into acts of violence – even of cruelty. Everything about him bespoke the second trapper to be a man of different race from his companion – a man in whose veins ran the hot blood of the south. Although his style of dress did not differ very much from that of his comrade, there were some points in it that denoted him to be more of a horseman. Nevertheless, his well-worn shoes bore witness to his having made more than one long journey on foot.

The Canadian, half reclining upon the grass, was watching with especial interest a large piece of mutton, which, supported upon a spit of iron-wood, was frizzling and sputtering in the blaze of the fire. He appeared to enjoy the savoury odour that proceeded from the joint; and so much was his attention taken up by his gastronomic zeal, that he scarce listened to what his companion was saying.

“Well, I have often told you,” said the latter, “that when one is on the trace of an enemy, whether it be an Indian or a white, one is pretty sure of coming on his tracks somewhere.”

“Yes,” rejoined the Canadian; “but you forgot that we shall just have time to reach Arispe, to receive the pay for our two years’ campaign; besides, by our not going to the hacienda, we lose the bounty upon these three skins, and miss selling them besides.”

“I never forget my interests,” replied the other; “no more than I do the vows which I make: and the best proof of it is, that twenty years ago I made one which I believe I shall now be able to accomplish. We can always force them to pay us what is due at Arispe, and we shall find many an opportunity of getting rid of the skins: but the chance which has turned up in the middle of these deserts, of bringing me in contact with the man against whom I have sworn vengeance may not offer again during my whole lifetime.”

“Bah!” exclaimed the Canadian, “vengeance is like many other kinds of fruit, sweet till you have tasted it, and afterwards bitter as gall.”

“For all that, Señor Bois-Rose, you do not appear to practise your own doctrine with the Apaches, Sioux, Crows, and other Indians with whom you are at enmity! Your rifle has cracked many a skull – to say nothing of the warriors you have ripped open with your knife!”

“Oh! that is different, Pepé. Some of these would have robbed me of my peltries – others would have taken my scalp, and came very near doing so, as you see – besides, it is blessed bread to clear the prairies of these red vermin; but I have never sought to revenge myself against one of my own race and colour. I never hated one of my own kind sufficiently to kill him.”

“Ah! Bois-Rose; it is just those of one’s own race we hate most – that is when they have given us the reason for doing so – and this man has furnished me with such motives to hate him as can never be forgotten. Twenty years have not blunted my desire for vengeance; though, on account of the great distance that separated us, I supposed I should never find an opportunity of fulfilling my vow. Strange it is that two men, with relations like ours, should turn up together in the middle of these desert plains. Well! strange though it be, I do not intend to let the chance escape me.”

Pepé appeared to have fixed his resolution upon this matter, and so firmly that his companion saw the folly of attempting to dissuade him by any further advice. The Canadian, moreover, was of an easy disposition, and readily yielded to the arguments of a friend.

“After all,” said he, “perhaps, if I fully understood your motives, I might entirely approve of the resolution you have made.”

“I can give them in two words,” rejoined he whom the Canadian was addressing as Pepé. “It is just twenty years, as I have already told you, since I was a carabinier in the service of her Catholic majesty. I should have been content with my position and the amount of pay, had it only been paid which unfortunately it was not. We were obliged to do the duty of coast-guard as well, and this would have done well enough had there been any smuggling, with the capture of which we might have indemnified ourselves; but there was none. What a fool a smuggler would have been to have ventured on a coast, guarded by two hundred fellows at their wits’ end with hunger! Well, then I reasoned that if any smuggler was to land it could only be with the concurrence of our captain, and I suspected that the captain would make no objection to such an arrangement – for he himself was, like the rest of us, a creditor of the government. In such case he would cast around among us for the man in whom he could most confide, and that would be he who was noted as being most careless upon his post. I resolved, therefore, to become the captain’s confidential sentry.

“To arrive at this object I pretended to be all the day asleep; and, notwithstanding the reprimands I received, I managed also to be found asleep upon my post at all hours of the night. I succeeded in my design. The captain soon learnt all about my somnolent habits, and chose me for his favourite sentinel.”

At this moment the Canadian detached the mutton from the spit, and having cut a large “hunk” from it with his knife passed the joint to his comrade.

This interrupted the narrative, for both narrator and listener were hungry. The two now sat face to face, their legs forming a sort of an ellipse, with the roast mutton in the centre, and for several minutes a formidable gritting of teeth, as huge pieces of the mutton passed through them, were the only sounds that broke the stillness of the night.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Old Souvenirs

“I have said then,” resumed Pepé, after a time, “that I pretended to be always asleep. The ruse succeeded equal to my best expectations, and one night the captain sent for me. Good! said I to myself, there’s an eel under the stone – the captain is going to confide a post to me. Just as I had anticipated he sent me to sleep – at least he thought so – on a most important post; but for all that I did not sleep a wink during the whole of that night.”

Here Pepé paused for a moment, in order to swallow an enormous mouthful of the roast mutton, that hindered the free use of the tongue.

“To be brief, then,” resumed he, “a boat arrived with men, and I permitted it to land. It was only afterwards that I learnt that it was no smuggling business these men were bent upon, but an affair of blood – of murder; and the thought that I was instrumental in aiding the assassins causes me to this hour a feeling of remorse. I did not conceal what I knew. Afterwards I denounced the murderer, by way of atoning for my fault. A trial took place, but as in Spain justice goes to the highest bidder, the assassin was set free, and I became a victim. I was drummed out of my regiment, and transported to the fisheries of Ceuta, on the unhealthy coast of Africa. There I was compelled to remain for many years, till at last having made my escape, after a thousand perilous adventures, I found myself on the prairies of America.”

“It was a rich man then – some powerful person – whom you denounced?”

“Yes; a grand señor. It was the old story of the pot of clay broken against the pot of iron. But the desert here has no distinctions; and, by the Virgin of Atocha! I shall prove that before many suns have gone over my head. Ah! if I only had here a certain alcalde of the name of Don Ramon Cohecho, and his damned friend, one Señor Cagatinta, I fancy I should make them pass an uncomfortable quarter of an hour.”

“Very well, then,” said Bois-Rose, seeing the other had finished his narrative; “very well. I quite approve of your intentions – let the journey to Arispe stand over.”

“It is an old story,” said Pepé, in conclusion; “and if for ten years you have been teaching me to handle a rifle, after many more spent in the usage of a carbine in the service of her Catholic majesty, surely I should be able to manage it now. I think I would scarcely miss an object as large as him whom you have seen at the head of those horsemen journeying towards the hacienda.”

“Yes – yes,” replied the Canadian, with a laugh; “but I remember the time, Pepé, when you missed many a buffalo twice as big as he. Nevertheless, I fancy I have made a passable shot of you at last, although you still persist in mistaking the ear of an otter for his eye, which always depreciates the value of the skin. Well, you know that I myself was not brought up on the prairies. I was a sailor for many long years; and perhaps I should have continued one but for – a sad event – a melancholy affair – but what good is there in speaking of that which is no more. Let the past be past! I find the life of the desert something like that on the ocean – once a man has got used to it he cannot easily quit it.”

“Yes,” rejoined Pepé; “the life of the forest and prairie has its charms, and for my part – ”

“Hush!” whispered the Canadian, interrupting the speech of his comrade and placing himself in an attitude to listen. “I heard a rustle among the branches. Other ears than mine may be listening to you.”

Pepé cast a glance in the direction whence the sounds had been heard. The dark form of a man was perceived among the trees coming from the direction of the hacienda.

It was evident that the man was not trying to approach by stealth, for his form was erect and he made no attempt to conceal himself behind the branches.

This would have freed the mind of Pepé from all suspicion, but for the circumstance that the stranger appeared to be coming direct from the hacienda.

“Who goes there?” he hailed in a loud tone, as the dark shadow was seen entering the glade.

“One who seeks an asylum by your fire,” was the ready reply, delivered in rather a feeble voice.

“Shall we allow him to come on? or beg him to continue his journey?” muttered Pepé to the Canadian.

“God forbid we should deny him! Perhaps they have refused him a lodging up at the house; and that voice, which I think I have heard before, plainly denotes that he is fatigued – perhaps ill.”

“Come on, Señor!” called out Pepé, without hesitating farther; “you are welcome to our fire and our mess; come on!”

At this invitation the stranger advanced. It is needless to say that it was Tiburcio Arellanos, whose cheeks as he came within the light of the fire betrayed by their paleness the traces of some violent emotion, or else of some terrible malady. This pallor, however, was partly caused by the blood which he had lost in the conflict with Cuchillo.

As soon as the features of Tiburcio came fairly under the light, the trappers recognised him as the young man they had met at La Poza; but the ex-carabinier was struck with some idea which caused him to make an involuntary gesture. The Canadian, on the other hand, regarded the new-comer with that expression of condescending kindness which age often bestows upon youth.

“Have you parted with the gentlemen in whose company we saw you?” asked Pepé of Tiburcio.

“Yes.”

“Perhaps you are not aware that there is a house close by. I do not know the owner, but I fancy he would not refuse you a night’s lodging, and he could entertain you better than we. Perhaps,” continued he, observing that Tiburcio made no reply, “you have been up to the house already?”

“I have,” answered Tiburcio. “I have no reproach to make against its owner, Don Augustin Peña; he has not refused me hospitality; but there are other guests under his roof with whom my life is not safe.”

“Oh, that!” exclaimed Pepé, appearing to become more interested; “has anything happened to you?”

Tiburcio lifted his serapé, exhibiting the wound in his right arm from which the blood was yet oozing.

Both Pepé and the Canadian rose hastily to their feet and stepped forward to examine the wound. Having done so, they immediately set about dressing it, which they effected with as much dexterity and despatch as might have been shown by practised surgeons; at the same time the rude physiognomy of each was marked by an expression of interest almost amounting to tenderness. While the Canadian kept bathing the wound with water from his canteen, Pepé proceeded into the woods in search of a peculiar plant noted for its healing properties. This plant was the oregano. Presently he returned, bringing with him several slices which he had cut from the succulent stem of the plant; the pulp of these, mashed between two stones, was placed over the wound, and then secured by Tiburcio’s own scarf of China crape wound several times around the arm; nothing more could be done than await the effect of the application.

“Now,” said the Canadian, “you will soon feel better. There is no danger of inflammation – nothing beats the oregano for preventing that, and you need not be afraid of fever. Meanwhile, if you feel inclined, there’s a bit of roast mutton and a glass of eau de vie at your service; after which you had best lie down by the fire and take some sleep – for I can see that you’re weary.”

“In truth,” replied Tiburcio, “I am fatigued. I thank you for your offer, but I do not feel inclined either to eat or drink; I have more need of sleep, and with your permission shall try and get some. One request I would make of you: that you will not permit me to sleep too long; there are reasons why I should soon be awake again.”

“Very well,” said Pepé; “we don’t want your reasons. If you wish us to watch the hacienda, I beg you will only say so, and you shall have two pair of good eyes at your service; therefore make your mind easy, and sleep without fear of any enemy coming upon you unawares.”