CHAPTER XIII.

PALEFACE _VERSUS_ REDSKIN.

The redskins in general, and the Apaches in particular, exhibit a surprising degree of craftiness when on the warpath, or preparing for a hazardous expedition. The best troops of the civilized world cannot compete with them in subtlety and wariness, such pains do they take to conceal and dissemble their movements.

Towards three o'clock in the morning, just as the first pearly notes issued from the throats of the _mawkawis_[1] nestled among the leaves, the Tigercat and Don Torribio rose from their beds, armed themselves for the fight, and issued forth from their toldos, followed by several Apache braves, directing their silent and rapid steps towards the centre of the camp, where the _sachems_ of the tribes, crouched on their haunches around an immense brasier, smoked the war calumet while waiting for the great chief.

When the Tigercat appeared, the Indians rose in a body to reverence their leader.

The Tigercat, returning their salute, made them a sign to be seated, and turning to the _amantzin,_ or sorcerer, who stood by his side. "Will the Master of life remain neutral?" he asked. "Will the Wacondah be propitious to the Apache braves? Or will he be adverse to the war his Indian sons, united before the stone _atepelt_ (village) of the palefaces, are going to wage this day against their oppressors?"

"At the bidding of the chiefs," replied the _amantzin_, "I will question the Master of life."

Then, drawing himself up to his full height, he wrapped his bison robe about him, and thrice paced round the fire, marching from left to right, and muttering words unintelligible to all, and which yet seemed to have a mysterious meaning. At the third round, he poured a _coui_ (a small vessel) of water, sweetened with _smilax_, into a cup of reeds, plaited so closely that not a drop escaped. Next, having dipped a sprig of wormwood in the _coui_, he sprinkled the assembled _sachems_, and emptied the water in three separate portions towards the rising sun.

Then, bending his body forward, with outstretched head and expanded arms, he appeared to listen to sounds perceptible to him alone.

At the end of a few seconds the _mawkawis_ lifted up his song again, on the right of his sorcerer. Immediately his face contorted itself, and grew horrible to look at; his bloodshot eyes seemed ready to start from their orbits; a whitish foam oozed from the corners of his compressed lips; a livid pallor overspread his features; his limbs were convulsed, and his body was agitated by violent distortions.

"The Spirit comes! The Spirit comes!" muttered the Indians, in superstitious terror.

"Silence!" cried the Tigercat; "The wise man is about to speak."

In fact, a painful hissing issued from the distorted mouth of the _amantzin_, which changed by slow degrees into words, unintelligible at first, but soon pronounced sufficiently distinctly to be understood by all.

"The spirit comes!" he exclaimed; "He has unbound his long locks, which float abroad on the winds. His breath brings annihilation; the heaven are red with blood. Victims will not be wanting for the Wacondah, the spirit of evil. Who can resist him? He alone is master. The knives of the Apaches shall find a sheath in the breasts of the palefaces. The vultures and _urubus_ are glad; they snuff the ample repast. Shout the war cry! Courage, warriors! the Wacondah himself will lead you. Death is nothing; glory is all!"

The _amantzin_, having uttered a few other unintelligible words, dropped to the ground, a prey to frightful convulsions.

Strange to relate, the men who had up to this time hung suspended on his lips, listening with strained anxiety to his utterances, had now no look or word of pity or interest for him as he lay writhing on the ground, but left him there, without further thought about him. It was because the man rash enough to touch a sorcerer while possessed by the spirit would fall a lifeless corpse: such is the Indian belief.

As soon as the _amantzin_ had ceased speaking, the Tigercat took up the word in his turn.

"Great chiefs of the Apache tribes," said he in a deep voice, "you see that the God of your fathers smiles on our attempt, and encourages it. Let us not hesitate, warriors! Let us confound with one last blow the pride of our oppressors. Our lands are now free; one single spot is still in the power of our tyrants. Let us conquer it today, and at sunset let the Spanish flag, whose fatal shadow has so long been the omen of misery and death, be lowered on our frontiers forever. Courage, brothers! Your ancestors, hunting in the happy prairies, will joyfully welcome those who fall in the battle. Let each repair to the post I have assigned him; the hoarse cry of the _urubu_, thrice repeated at equal intervals, will give the signal for the assault."

The chiefs, with deep reverence, took their departure, and dispersed in various directions. The Tigercat remained alone, absorbed in profound meditation.

An awful stillness reigned over the scene. There was not a breath of wind, nor a cloud in the sky. The limpid and transparent atmosphere permitted objects to be seen at a vast distance. The dark blue heavens were studded with a multitude of sparkling stars; the moon was pouring forth her silver rays in profusion; no sound disturbed the impressive silence, except, at intervals, that low murmuring which, coming we know not whence, seems the awful breathing of slumbering nature.

The white chief, on the point of making his mightiest effort to enfranchise the Indian nations, and pave the way for the triumph of his mysterious combinations, yielded with delight to the tumultuous thoughts busying themselves in his brain. Communing with his soul, he scrutinised his own conduct, and fervently entreated Him who is almighty, and whose eye searches the heart, not to abandon him, if the cause for which he fought was righteous.

A hand was laid heavily on his shoulder.

Thus rudely recalled to himself, the Tigercat started. He passed his hand over his damp brow, and turned to the intruder. The sorcerer stood there, gazing at him with his perfidious eyes, and grinning an evil smile.

"What brings you here?" said the chief abruptly.

"Is my father satisfied with me?" replied the _amantzin;_ "Has the Wacondah spoken well to the _sachems?_"

"Yes," said the Tigercat, with a gesture of disgust; "my brother has done well: he may go."

"My father is great and generous! The spirit that possesses me tore me grievously."

The chief snatched a string of pearls from his neck, and threw it to the wretch, who caught it with a shout of delight.

"Go!" said the Tigercat, turning haughtily away.

The _amantzin_ retired. He had got all he wanted.

Don Torribio had left the scene of the incantation with the other chiefs, to repair to his post; but after proceeding a little way, he looked up to the sky, and mentally calculated the hour by the position of the stars.

"I shall have time," he muttered to himself.

So he hastily directed his steps towards the _toldo_ of Doña Hermosa; numerous guards surrounded it.

"She sleeps," said he; "sleeps, lulled by sweet childish fancies. O God! Who knowest the extent of my love, and the sacrifice I have offered at its shrine, grant she may be happy!"

He went up to one of the _vaqueros_, who, leaning against a tree, was silently smoking his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the _toldo_.

"_Verado,_" said he, with emotion he could not repress, "twice have I saved your life at the risk of my own. Do you remember?"

"I remember," said the _vaquero_ briefly.

"Today it is I who come to ask a service. Can I rely on you?"

"Speak, Don Torribio; I will do all a man can do, to do you a service."

"Thanks, comrade! My life, my soul, all I hold dear in the world, is contained in this _toldo_. I confide her to you. Swear to defend her, whatever may happen!"

"I swear it, Don Torribio. The _toldo_ is sacred; neither friend nor enemy shall enter. I and the men you have placed under my command will die on the spot before injury shall happen to those you love."

"I thank you," said the chief, extending his hand to the _vaquero_.

The latter seized the bottom of his leader's cloak, and kissed it reverently.

Don Torribio cast one more look of affection at the _toldo_, which concealed, as he had said, all he loved in this world, and then went his way with rapid strides.

"Now," said he, "let me be a man! They are bold men we have to contend with."

As soon as the chief had ordered the sachems to their posts, where the warriors were anxiously expecting the word to let them loose upon the foe, they proceeded to the different stations where their respective tribes were posted.

The men then commenced one of those incredible marches which Indians alone can perform--crawling on their bellies over the ground. Creeping and gliding along like snakes, they managed to station themselves, in less than an hour, and without attracting notice, immediately at the foot of the ramparts held by the Mexicans. This movement had been executed with so much precision and success, that no sound had been heard in the prairie, and nothing appeared to have stirred in the camp, where all seemed plunged into the deepest repose.

Nevertheless, a few minutes before the _sachems_ had received the final orders of the Tigercat, a man in Apache dress had quitted the camp in advance of the others, and crept towards the fort on hands and knees.

When he arrived at the barricade, another man who, leaning over it, had been listening with intense anxiety, reached out his hand, and helped him inside the town.

"Well, Estevan?"

"We shall be attacked before an hour is over, major," said the _mayor domo_.

"Will the attack be serious?"

"An assault. The Indians are determined to finish the game at once; they are afraid of being all poisoned if they wait longer."

"What is to be done?" grumbled the officer.

"Let ourselves be killed," was the reply.

"By Heavens! A comfortable piece of advice! We can but do that at the last extremity."

"We might try something else."

"But what? Speak, in Heaven's name!"

"Is everything prepared as we agreed?"

"It is. But what do you propose?"

"Give me twenty-five _vaqueros_, whom you can trust."

"Take them; you will lead them?"

"That is my affair, major. I will not answer for success; for these red devils are numberless as the sands; but you may depend on my thinning their ranks."

"That will do us no harm. But the women and children?"

"I have got them all safely to Las Norias."

"God be praised! Now we can fight like men; our dear ones are in safety."

"For a time they are."

"What do you mean? What is there else to fear?"

"Only that when the Indians have taken the _presidio_, they will most probably attack the hacienda."

"You are out of your wits, Estevan," said the major, smiling; "and Doña Hermosa--"

"True," replied the _mayor domo_ gaily; "I had forgotten her."

"Is that all you have to report?"

"No, major," he said quickly; "one thing more."

"Out with it then; for time presses."

"The signal for the attack is to be three screams of the _urubu_, at equal intervals."

"Good! I will be ready for them: they will attack before daybreak."

The major and Don Estevan separated, to visit the posts in succession, to arouse the guards, and prepare them for the event.

The preceding evening, Major Barnum had assembled all the townspeople, and, in a brief and energetic speech, and with the greatest frankness, apprised them of the precarious situation of the _pueblo;_ had explained his plan of defence; and finished by telling them that boats were ready moored under the guns of the fort, to receive the women, children, old men, and all those country people who declined to join in his desperate resistance; adding, that all who embarked would be conveyed at nightfall to the Hacienda of Las Norias, where they would be kindly received.

We are bound to say, that a few of the people in the town, dismayed by the energetic proceedings of the major, had recoiled from the idea of taking part in them, and had gone to the hacienda. There remained, therefore, in the town only resolute men, determined to sell their lives dearly, and on whom he could rely with confidence.

Thus when, on being aroused, the immediate attack of the Apaches was made known to them, they manned the barriers confidently, with eyes and ears on the watch, ready to give fire at the first signal.

One hour passed over without any occurrence to break the stillness of the night. The Mexicans began to imagine that they had been summoned to the walls by a false alarm, as had already happened on several occasions, when suddenly the hoarse and ominous scream of the _urubu_ arose.

Again it broke through the silence, and a cold shudder ran through the frames of the besieged, who recognised their death cry, and knew how little chance of escape existed.

A third time the scream of the _urubu_ arose, louder and hoarser than before. Ere it was well ended, the dreadful war whoop broke forth on all sides, and the Indians threw themselves in swarms on the exterior defences, and attempted to carry them by escalade. The Mexicans received them firmly, like men who knew their last hour was come, and were resolved to fall amidst a hecatomb of foes. The Indians fell back in dismay, astounded at the vigorous resistance. Their measures had been taken so secretly, that they felt certain of surprising the town. As soon as they were in the open, showers of grape swept them down, and scattered death and disorder among their masses.

Don Estevan, profiting by the panic, threw himself, at the head of his _vaqueros_, on the thunderstricken redskins, and cut them down indiscriminately. Twice he renewed the charge with the courage of a lion, and twice the Indians recoiled before him.

As long as the darkness lasted, the Apaches could not perceive the smallness of the force opposed to them, and the combat was greatly favourable to the palefaces, who, sheltered behind the barricades, kept up a deadly fire on the dense masses of the enemy.

But after about two hours of this obstinate resistance the sun rose, and lighted up the field of battle with the glorious splendour of his rays. The Indians hailed his appearance with clamorous shouts, and precipitated themselves with renewed fury on the intrenchments from which they had just been driven. Their shock was irresistible.

The whites, after an amount of resistance determined on beforehand, abandoned a position they could no longer hold. The Indians, at the top of their speed, rushed in pursuit. But at that moment a frightful explosion was heard, the ground burst under their feet, and the mangled wretches, hurled into the air, were cast in all directions.

The interior of the defences had been undermined, and the major had just issued the order to fire the train. The effects of the explosion were horrible. The panic-stricken redskins began to fly on all sides, and, yielding to the impulse of their terror, were deaf to the orders of their _sachems_, and refused to renew the fight.

For a moment the palefaces thought themselves saved. But the Tigercat, mounted on a magnificent jet black mustang, and unfolding to the breeze the sacred _totem_ of the allied tribes, rushed to the front, braving in his single person the shots the Mexicans aimed at him, and cried in a terrible voice: "Cowards! As you will not conquer, see how a brave man can die!"

His voice conveyed the bitterest reproach to the ears of the redskins; the most cowardly were ashamed to abandon the chief who was thus generously sacrificing himself; they faced about, and returned to the assault with redoubled ardour.

The Tigercat seemed invulnerable. He made his horse bound into the thickest of the fight, parrying the blows aimed at him with the staff of the _totem_, which he held displayed above his head to encourage his men.

The Apaches, electrified by the audacity of their great chief, crowded around him, undismayed even in death, and shouted:

"The Tigercat! The Tigercat! Let us die for the great chief!"

"Look there!" cried he enthusiastically, pointing to the morning star; "Look there! Your Father is smiling upon your deeds! Forwards! Forwards!"

"Forwards!" repeated the redskins, advancing with fresh fury.

But the major knew this horrible struggle could not last much longer. The redskins had carried all the barricades; the town swarmed with them. The Mexicans disputed it house by house, only leaving one to throw themselves into another when dislodged by main force. The redskins formed into a solid mass, led by Don Torribio, charged up the steep street leading to the old _presidio_ and the fort which commands it. In spite of the ravages caused in their ranks by the grape from the guns of the fort, they advanced without wavering; for they saw, after each of the discharges which showered death amongst them, the Tigercat ten paces in advance, bestriding his black charger, and brandishing the _totem_, with Don Torribio at his side waving his sword.

"Come," said the major gravely to Don Estevan; "the time has arrived to execute the orders I gave you."

"You insist upon them, major?" replied the latter.

"I do Estevan."

"Enough, major; they shall not say I disobeyed your last orders. Farewell! Or rather, may we soon meet in heaven; for I shall fall as well as you."

"_¿Quién sabe?_ Farewell, farewell!"

"Let us still hope," answered the _mayor domo_ in a stifled voice.

The two men silently clasped each other's hands in a final pressure; for they knew that, without a miracle, they should never meet again.

After this leave-taking, Don Estevan collected some forty horsemen, formed them into a compact body, and, in the interval between two volleys from the fort, threw himself at full speed on the advancing redskins. The Apaches could not resist the impetuosity of the charge, and fled into the houses on either hand. When they recovered from their panic, the horsemen who had so rudely handled them had got on board two large boats, and were rowing swiftly towards the Hacienda de las Norias. Don Estevan and the whole of his followers were saved, with the exception of three or four who fell in the charge. The major had profited by the diversion to throw himself, with the remaining whites, into the fort, the gates of which were instantly closed behind him. Don Torribio ordered the redskins to halt, and advanced alone to the fortress.

"Major," cried he in a loud voice, "surrender! The lives of yourself and the garrison shall be respected."

"You are a traitor, a coward, and a dog!" replied the major, appearing on the walls. "You murdered my friend, who trusted to your loyalty. No surrender!"

"It is death to you and all with you; for the sake of humanity, surrender! Defence is impossible."

"You are a coward!" cried the major again; "here is my answer."

"Back, all of you! Back!" shouted the Tigercat, driving both spurs into his horse, which bounded into the air, and flew off with the speed of an arrow.

The Indians precipitated themselves from the top to the base of the rampart, seized with an indescribable panic; but not speedily enough to avoid the fate that threatened them. The major had fired the magazines in the fort. A terrific explosion ensued. The gigantic edifice oscillated for a second or two on its foundations, like a tottering mastodon; then, suddenly torn from the ground, rose into the air, and burst like an elephantine shell. Amidst the last cries of "Long live the Republic!" from the besieged, a storm of stones and bodies, horribly mutilated, hailed down upon the redskins, aghast at the horrible catastrophe--and all was over, the Tigercat was master of the Presidio de San Lucar; but, as Major Barnum had sworn, he was only in possession of a pile of ruins.

With tears of rage, Don Torribio planted the _totem_ of the Apaches on a strip of tottering wall--the sole remnant to mark the spot where, ten minutes ago, rose the magnificent fort of San Lucar.

[1] A Mexican songbird.