Gustave Aimard - The Pearl of the Andes - A Tale of Love and Adventure

"Yesterday the paleface squaw was much better, and the mosotones set off with her, about three o'clock."

"And the young girl," Trangoil-Lanec asked, "did she say nothing to my sister before she departed?"

"Nothing," the woman answered; "the poor child wept; she was unwilling to go, but they made her get on horseback by threatening to tie her on."

"Which way did they go?" said Trangoil-Lanec.

"The mosotones talked among themselves of the tribe of the Red Vulture."

"Thanks to my sister," the Ulmen replied; "she may retire, the men are going to hold a council."

The woman arose and left the cuarto.

"Now," the chief asked, "what is my brother's intention?"

"Pardieu! we must follow the track of the ravishers."

"Good! that is also my advice; only, two men are not enough to accomplish such a project."

"True; but what else are we to do?"

"Not to set out till this evening."

"Why so?"

"Because Curumilla will have rejoined us by that time."

Valentine, knowing that he had several hours to pass in this place, resolved to take advantage of the opportunity; he stretched himself upon the ground, placed a stone under his head, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. Trangoil-Lanec did not sleep, but, with a piece of cord which he picked up in a corner of the hut, he measured all the footprints left upon the ground of the hut.

After carefully tying the end of the cord to his belt, he, in his turn, lay down upon the ground close to Valentine.

Curumilla and his two companions descended the steep sides of the Corcovado; if the ascent had been difficult, the descent was not less so. Everywhere escaped thousands of hideous creatures; and not unfrequently they caught glimpses of snakes, unfolding their threatening rings under the dead leaves which on all sides covered the ground. Sometimes they were obliged to crawl on their knees, at others to jump from branch to branch.

This painful and fatiguing march lasted nearly three hours. At the end of that time they found themselves again at the entrance of the grotto where they had left their horses. The two white men were literally knocked up, particularly the count. As for Curumilla, he was as fresh and active as if he had not gone a step. Physical fatigue seems to have no hold on the iron organisation of the Indians.

"My brothers require test," he said; "we will remain here for them to recover their strength."

A half hour passed away without a word being exchanged. Curumilla had disappeared for a time.

When he returned he drew from his belt a small box which he presented to the count, saying, "Take this."

"Oh!" cried Don Tadeo, joyfully, "coca!"

"Yes," said the Indian, "my father can take some."

"What is all that to do?" said the count.

"My friend," said Don Tadeo, "America is the promised land; its privileged soil produces everything: as we have the herb of Paraguay, which is so good a substitute for tea, we have coca, which, I assure you, advantageously supplies the place of the betel, and has the faculty of restoring the strength and reviving the courage."

"The deuce!" said the young man. "You are too serious, Don Tadeo, to leave me for an instant to suppose you wish to impose upon my credulity; give me quickly, I beg, some of this precious drug."

Don Tadeo held out to the count the coca he had prepared. The latter put it into his mouth without hesitation. Curumilla, after having carefully reclosed the box and returned it to his belt, saddled the horses. All at once a sharp firing was heard.

"What is all that?" Louis cried, springing up.

"The fight beginning," Curumilla replied coolly.

At that moment the cries became redoubled.

"Come!" said Don Tadeo; "one hour's delay cannot cause any great harm to my daughter."

"To horse, then," said the chief.

As they drew nearer, the noise of the fierce fight that was raging in the defile became more distinct; they recognised perfectly the war cry of the Chilians mixed with the howlings of the Araucanos; now and then bullets were flattened against the trees, or whizzed around them.

"Halt!" cried the Ulmen suddenly.

The horsemen checked their horses, which were bathed in sweat. Curumilla had conducted his friends to a place which entirely commanded the outlet of the defile on the side of Santiago. It was a species of natural fortress, composed of blocks of granite, strangely heaped upon one another by some convulsion of nature, perhaps an earthquake. These rocks, at a distance, bore a striking resemblance to a tower; and their total height was about thirty feet. In a word, it was a real fortress, from which a siege might be sustained.

"What a fine position," Don Tadeo observed.

They dismounted: Curumilla relieved the horses of their equipments, and let them loose in the woods. A slight movement was heard from among the leaves, the boughs of the underwood parted, and a man appeared. The Ulmen cocked his gun. The man who had so unexpectedly arrived had a gun thrown on his back, and he had in his hand a sword, crimson to the hilt. He ran on, looking around him on all sides, not like a man who is flying, but, on the contrary, as if seeking for somebody. Curumilla uttered an exclamation of surprise, quitted his hiding place, and advanced towards the newcomer.

"I was seeking my father," he said earnestly.

"Good!" Curumilla replied; "here I am."

"Let my son follow me," said Curumilla, "we cannot stay here."

The two Indians climbed the rocks, at the summit of which Don Tadeo and the young count had already arrived.

The two whites were surprised at the presence of the newcomer, who was no other than Joan; but the moment was not propitious for asking explanations; the four men hastened to erect a parapet. This labour completed, they rested for a while.

"When I saw," he said, "that the prisoner had succeeded in escaping, in spite of the valiant efforts of the men who escorted him. I thought it would be best you should be acquainted with this news, and I plunged into the forest, and came in search of you."

"Oh!" said Don Tadeo, "if that man is free, all is lost."

The four men placed themselves, gun in hand, on the edge of the platform. The number of the fugitives increased every instant. The whole plain, just before so calm and solitary, presented one of the most animated spectacles. From time to time men were to be seen falling, many of them never to rise again; others, more fortunate, who were only wounded, made incredible efforts to rise. A squadron of Chilian horsemen came out at a gallop, driving before them the Araucanos, who still resisted. In advance of this troop a man mounted on a black horse, across the neck of which a fainting woman was reclining, was riding with the rapidity of an arrow. He gained ground constantly upon the soldiers.

"It is he," cried the Don, "it is the general."

At the same time the count and Curumilla fired. The horse stopped short, reared perfectly upright, fought the air with its forefeet, appeared to stagger for an instant, and then fell like lead, dragging its rider down with it.

The Indians, struck with terror at this unexpected attack, redoubled their speed, and fled across the plain.

"Quick, quick!" the count cried, springing up, "let us secure the general."

"One instant!" said Curumilla, phlegmatically; "the odds are not equal, let my brother look."

At the moment a crowd of Indians debouched from the defile. But these wore a good countenance. Marching in close older, they withdrew step by step, not like cowards who fled, but like warriors proudly abandoning a field of battle which they contested no longer, but retreated from in good order. As a rearguard a platoon of a hundred men sustained this brave retreat. All at once a fusillade broke out with a sinister hissing, and some Chilian horsemen appeared, charging at speed.