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

The morning on which the sanguinary battle we have described was fought in the Canyon del Rio Seco, Valentine and Trangoil-Lanec were marching side by side, followed closely by Cæsar. The two men were talking while they cracked a biscuit, which they washed down from time to time with a little smilax water, contained in a gourd, which hung at the girdle of Trangoil-Lanec.

"Why chief," said Valentine, laughing, "you drive me to despair with your indifference."

"What does my brother mean?" the astonished Indian said.

"Caramba! We are traversing the most ravishing landscape in the world, and you pay no more attention to all these beauties than to the granite masses yonder in the horizon."

"My brother is young." Trangoil-Lanec observed: "he is an enthusiast."

"I do not know whether I am an enthusiast or not," replied the young man, warmly; "I only know this – that nature is magnificent."

"Yes," said the chief, solemnly, "Pillian is great; it is he who made all things."

"God, you mean, chief; but that is all one; our thought is the same, and we won't quarrel about a name."

"In my brother's island," the Indian asked curiously, "are there no mountains and trees?"

"I have already told you, chief, more than once that my country is not an island, but a land as large as this; there is no want of trees, thank God! There are even a great many, and as to mountains, we have some lofty ones, Montmartre among the rest."

"Hum," said the Indian, not understanding.

"Yes!" Valentine resumed, "we have mountains, but compared to these they are but little hills."

"My land is the most beautiful in the world," the Indian replied proudly. "Why do the palefaces wish to dispossess us of it."

"There is a great deal of truth in what you say, chief."

"Good!" said the chief; "all men cannot be born in my country."

"That is true, and that is why I was born somewhere else."

Cæsar at this moment growled surlily.

"What is the matter, old fellow?" said Valentine.

Trangoil-Lanec remarked quietly —

"The dog has scented an Aucas."

So it was, for scarcely had he spoken, when an Indian horseman appeared at the turning of the road. He advanced at full gallop towards the two men, whom he saluted, and went on his way.

Shortly afterwards the travellers arrived, almost without being aware of it, at the entrance of the village.

"So now, I suppose, we are at San Miguel?" remarked Valentine.

"Yes," the other replied.

"And is it your opinion that Doña Rosario is no longer here?"

"No," said the Indian, shaking his head. "Let my brother look around him."

"Well," said the young man, turning his eyes in all directions, "I see nothing."

"If the prisoner were here, my brother would see warriors and horses; the village would be alive."

"Corbleu!" thought Valentine; "these savages are wonderful men; they see everything, they divine everything. Chief," he added, "you are wise; tell me, I beg of you, who taught you all these things."

The Indian stopped; with a majestic gesture he indicated the horizon to the young man, and said, in a voice the solemn accent of which made him start —

"Brother, it was the desert.

"Yes," the Frenchman replied, convinced by these few words; "for it is there alone that man sees God face to face."

They now entered the village, and, as Trangoil-Lanec had said, it seemed deserted. They saw a few sick persons, who, reclining upon sheepskins, were complaining lamemtably.

"Caramba!" said Valentine, much disappointed, "you have guessed so truly, Chief, that there are even no dogs to bite our heels."

All at once Cæsar sprang forward barking, and, stopping in front of an isolated hut, began to munch the ground with his claws, uttering furious cries.

The two men ran hastily towards the hut, and Cæsar continued his howlings.

When Valentine and Trangoil-Lanec gained the front of the hut, the door was opened, and a woman presented herself.

This woman had in her countenance a marked expression of mildness, mixed with a melancholy cast; she appeared to be suffering pain. Her dress, entirely composed of blue cloth, consisted of a tunic which fell to her feet, but was very narrow, which makes the women of that country take short steps; a short mantle, called an ichcha, covered her shoulders and was crossed upon her breast, where it was drawn together by means of a silver buckle.

As soon as this woman opened the door, Cæsar rushed so violently into the interior of the hut that he almost knocked her down in his passage. She staggered, and was obliged to hold herself up by the wall.

"I know what troubles the animal thus," the woman said mildly; "my brothers are travellers; let them enter this poor hut, which belongs to them; their slave will serve them."

So saying, the mistress of the hut stood on one side to allow the strangers to enter. They found Cæsar crouching in the middle of the cuarto, with his nose close to the ground, sniffing, snatching, and growling.

"Good God!" Valentine muttered anxiously, "what has been done here?"

Without saying a word Trangoil-Lanec placed himself close to the dog; stretched along upon the ground, with his eyes intently fixed upon it, he examined it as closely as if he thought his glance could penetrate it. At the end of a minute he arose, and seated himself by Valentine, who seeing his companion had got a fit of Indian silence, found it necessary to speak first.

"Well, chief," he asked, "what is there fresh?"

"Nothing," the Ulmen replied; "these traces are at least four days old."

"What traces are you speaking of, chief?"

"Traces of blood."

"Of blood!" the young man cried. "Can Doña Rosario have been assassinated?"

"No," the chief replied, "if this blood belonged to her, she has only been wounded; her wound has been dressed."

"Dressed! come, that is too strong, chief!"

"My brother is quick – he does not reflect. Let him look here."

And he opened his right hand, and displayed an object enclosed in it.

"Caramba!" Valentine replied, quite out of humour, "an old dried leaf! What on earth can that teach?"

"Everything," said the Indian.

"Pardieu? If you can prove that, chief, I shall consider you the greatest machi in all Araucania."

"It is very simple. This leaf is the oregano leaf; the oregano so valuable for stopping the effusion of blood."

"Here are traces of blood; a person has been wounded; and on the same spot I find an oregano leaf: that leaf did not come there of itself, consequently that person's wounds have been dressed."

The woman now entered, bearing two ox horns full of harina tostada; they ate their horn of meal heartily, and drank more than one cup of chicha each. As soon as they had ended this light repast, the Indian presented the maté to them, which they tossed off with great pleasure, and then they lit their cigars.

"My sister is kind," Trangoil-Lanec said; "will she talk a minute with us!"

"I will do as my brothers please."

Valentine took two piastres from his pocket, and presented them to the woman, saying, "Will my sister permit me to offer her this trifle to make earrings?"

"I thank my brother," said the poor woman; "my brother is a muruche; perhaps he is the relation of the young paleface girl who was here?"

"I am not her relation," he said, "I am her friend. I confess that if my sister can give me any intelligence of her, she will render me happy."

"Some days ago," said the woman, "a great woman of the palefaces arrived here towards evening, followed by half a score of mosotones; I am not well, and that is why, for a month past, I have remained in the village. This woman asked me to allow her to pass the night in my hut. Towards the middle of the night there was a great noise of horses in the village, and several horsemen arrived, bringing with them a young palefaced maiden of a mild and sad countenance; she was a prisoner to the other, as I afterwards learnt. I do not know how the young girl managed it, but she succeeded in escaping. This woman and the Toqui went in search of the young girl, whom they soon brought back across a horse, with her head cut. The poor child had fainted; her blood flowed in abundance; she was in a pitiable state. I do not know what passed, but the woman suddenly changed her manner of acting towards the young girl; she dressed her wound, and took the most affectionate care at her. After that, Antinahuel and the woman departed, leaving the young girl in my hut, with ten mosotones to guard her. One of these mosotones told me that the girl belonged to the Toqui, who intended to make her his wife."