The Flying Horseman

"No; he has remained with as," said the Cougar, "but our troop has since been increased."

"Other warriors have joined it?"

"No, they are travellers; whites."

"Whites?"

"Yes, six of them."

"Ah," cried the Montonero, with a strange expression, "white travellers in these parts, at this time of the year, is very singular; perhaps they are enemies, who have been surprised by you, as I myself have been."

"No, they are visitors; they have, of their own accord, presented themselves to us and claimed our aid."

"And?" said he, with ill-concealed anxiety.

"We have received them according to the laws of Indian hospitality; they are our brothers, and Arnal insisted that we should treat them as such."

"Confound it!" cried the Montonero, stamping with rage, as he rose.

"Is this news bad, then, for my brother?" asked Gueyma.

But Zeno Cabral had, by a violent effort, already regained self-possession.

"My brother is deceived," he answered, smiling. "This news does not concern me in any way. What are these men to me?"

"Two of them are women," slyly remarked the Cougar.

The Montonero feigned not to hear this observation. He turned away to hide the trouble that it caused him, and, leaning his head forward:

"Do you hear?" he said, making a sign for them to listen.

"We have heard that for some time," answered Gueyma.

"The wild beasts approach; they are roaming about. I do not know how it is, I feel a great desire to kill them," said the Montonero.

"A desire easy to satisfy," answered the old chief, "The lions will be here before ten minutes."

"Do you think so?"

"I am sure of it. Listen."

The three men had risen, and, with hands on their firearms, their bodies leaning forward, their eyes fixed on the thickets, and their ears on the watch, they remained stationary. No sound was heard but those undefined noises which are peculiar to the desert during the night.

Suddenly a trembling and a cracking of branches was heard in the woods which adjoined the camp. Then, in two or three minutes, the same trembling was repeated on the opposite side, on the sombre edge of the forest, and in the low branches of a tree, in the midst of a thicket of leaves, appeared, brilliant as two fire brands, the eyes of a wild beast.

The animal, after a moment of fear, advanced a little, throwing frightened looks to the right and the left. Then he commenced to creep gently along the branch on which he was placed, and soon all his body emerged from the shade, and stood out boldly in the light.

It was a cougar, or lion of America, of the most beautiful kind, and all the maturity of age, as was easy to see by its skin, which, instead of being of a woolly texture, crossed by little brown streaks, was of an agreeable and uniform tawny colour, without any admixture. Its ears, which were thrown back, were black, as well as the end of its tail. Its length was about seven feet.

It was lying, or rather crouching, on the branch. Its head was placed on its paws, which were stretched out. Its tail lashed its sides with force, and its eyes were directed with a strange gaze on the fire behind which the three men were hidden. After some minutes of this singular contemplation, the lion opened its mouth tremendously wide, and uttered a harsh growl. At the same instant a similar growl burst forth, but so startling and so near, that the three men started, and became alert in a moment.

At about twenty paces at the most from them, hidden in the same way in the low branches of a tree, a second cougar, just like the first, fixed on them his glaring eyes.

The situation became complicated.

"Well," said the Montonero, "we are more happy than we thought. Instead of one lion, we have two."

"Perhaps we shall have three," answered Gueyma.

"Abundance of good will not hurt us. But, however, that would astonish me."

"Listen," resumed the chief.

In fact a strong agitation, resembling that of a hasty march in the thicket, was heard.

"This is not the sound caused by a wild beast," murmured the old chief, shaking his head. "It is the step of a man."

"A man!" cried Gueyma and the Montonero; "It is impossible."

At the same moment the underwood was divided, and a man leaped into the midst of the camp.

It was no other than Emile Gagnepain.

His chest was heaving; notwithstanding the cold, his countenance, perspiring freely, bore witness to the violent exercise which he had undergone, and the rapid course which he had just made through the thickets, in the midst of which he had left his hat and even scraps of his clothes.

He held a double-barrelled gun in his hand. At first, blinded by the sudden transition from darkness to light, the young man could distinguish but imperfectly the persons to whom he had so abruptly introduced himself, but he soon distinguished the two Indians.

"Ah! Pardieu, gentlemen," cried he, getting his breath with difficulty; "I have been hunting this wild beast for the last three hours; I hope you will let me kill this magnificent animal."

"Be it so!" courteously answered the two Indians, putting the butt of their guns to the ground.

"But in case of danger, I shall be ready to come to your aid," said Zeno Cabral.

The painter turned quickly.

"Ah! It is you, Don Zeno!" said he, giving him his hand. "What a singular meeting!"

"Very singular!"

"Why does not the animal stir?"

"For a very simple reason – because he fears to do so."

"You think so?"

"Certainly, but be easy; he, or rather they, will soon take courage."

"What do you mean by they?"

"Why, look on this side; here is a second cougar, I think."

"Upon my word, that's true. How shall we kill both?"

"I will aid you."

"You are very good. I confess that I am already slightly embarrassed in regard to the first, without wishing to tackle the second."

"The second is a female."

"What a misfortune," said the painter laughingly, "to carry trouble into a household that appears so united! Eh, but," he added, "they are waking up, I think."

"Attention! They will not be long before they attack us."

The Indian chiefs had remarked with astonishment the recognition between the two men; but as the time was not propitious for an explanation, they were contented to exchange a significant look.

Meanwhile, although only ten minutes had passed since the sudden apparition of the cougars and the unforeseen arrival of the young Frenchman, the beasts remained passive on their respective branches. This fact, which may seem extraordinary, ought to be explained.

Although the cougar is the greatest and most powerful carnivorous animal of South America – committing enormous ravages among the flocks, and attacking generally all the animals that he meets – he flies away from man, for whom he has an instinctive horror. It is only when pushed to the last extremity, and literally to save his own life, that he at last resolves to face his assailant; but then he becomes terrible, defends himself with unparalleled desperation, will not retreat an inch, and only falls when dead.

The two lions, male and female, had at sunset left their den to go in pursuit of prey. After having traversed the desert in all directions, they saw the fire or the Montonero's encampment, and, attracted by the light, they gradually approached it, creeping along with that light and elegant suppleness which characterises the feline race, bounding from tree to tree, gliding along the branches. But on seeing the men motionless and firm before them, they had immediately stopped, doubtless hoping that they would not be discovered by their implacable enemy, and apparently contemplating seeking their safety in immediate flight. But when the hunters had risen and had seized their arms, the cougars had perceived that all chance of safety had gone, and they prepared to fight; then, having uttered a roar to give a mutual warning, they seemed to think it a favourable moment to spring upon the hunters.

At the cry of warning by the Montonero, Emile had suddenly darted backward and shouldered his gun.

Almost immediately the two wild animals, as if by mutual agreement, uttered a roar of anger, and darting at once with a terrible bound, they threw themselves upon the hunters.

But the latter were on their guard; without retreating a step, they attacked the animals as they leaped, and seizing their guns by the barrel, they fought body to body with the animals. It was a terrible and desperate combat.

Emile, although it was the first time he had found himself an actor in so dangerous a hunt, and the first time he had seen such awkward game, exhibited remarkable coolness, not slipping the trigger of his gun till he had taken very careful aim of his adversary, and then, when his piece was discharged, he abandoned it to take two pistols from his girdle.

The two Indians had succeeded in easily overcoming the lioness, which Gueyma had seriously wounded in the right shoulder, whilst the ball of the old chief had broken its loins. The animal had fallen nearly dead, and the last convulsions of its agony were all they had to fear; the struggle in this direction had not been long.

But as to the lion, it was a very different affair. Although the two balls of the hunters had pierced his body, his leap had nevertheless been so well calculated, that he had actually sprung on the Montonero. The latter, overturned by the shock, had rolled a few paces, horribly torn, bruised, and half fainting, and consequently not in a position to defend himself.

The animal had been stunned by the prodigious leap that he had made. Weakened by the blood that he was losing, and that was flowing in streams from his wounds, he remained a minute motionless on his trembling haunches; then uttering a dull growl of rage, and hollowing the sand with his powerful paws, he seemed to be gathering his strength to leap again on the enemy, who was stretched on the ground a few paces before him.

Emile, under these desperate circumstances, consulting only his own heart and the horrible situation of the Montonero, resolved to save him even at the peril of his own life. Loading his pistols, he threw himself boldly between the man and the lion.

The animal, startled and perhaps frightened by the sudden apparition of this new adversary, who placed himself so boldly at but a few paces from him, crouched close to the ground, with his ears hanging down, and looked at him with a malicious air, uttering a dull and sullen growl, which, with animals of the feline tribe, denotes the last paroxysm of rage.

"Upon my word," murmured the Frenchman, with a sly smile, looking his formidable adversary in the face, "this is what I call a splendid duel, and if I fall, it will at least be under the efforts of a lion – that is some comfort."

And he burst into such a hearty fit of laughter, that the Indian chiefs, notwithstanding their habitual self-control, could not repress a gesture of astonishment. They thought that fright had driven away the senses of the Frenchman.

But Emile had never been more master of himself; his mind had never been clearer, or his coolness greater; but Frenchman, and above all Parisian as he was, the devil-me-care spirit of the gamin had become paramount, and he would not play the game of life and death without risking a last joke.

While speaking thus he had coolly raised his pistols, and at the moment when the lion was nerving himself to spring upon him, he fired.

The animal bounded from the spot, uttering a terrible howl, and fell dead.

"Upon my word," said the painter, laughing, "I thought it was more difficult than that; the lion seems to me to have gained a false reputation, or else he must have considerably degenerated; no matter, it is very diverting sport."

After this soliloquy, he hastened towards Zeno Cabral, near whom were the two chiefs.

The former had regained consciousness, and assisted by his friends he attempted to stand up – ashamed, bold and expert sportsman as he was, that he had been so rudely overcome by a wild beast.

On seeing the young man, who held out his hand to him smiling, an expression of gratitude illumined his manly countenance.

"Don Emile," said he, with deep emotion, "once more I owe you my life; I shall never be able to pay my debt."

"Perhaps, señor," answered the young man significantly.

"Oh!" cried he, earnestly, "I swear to you, Don Emile, by all that is sacred in the world, that whatever you ask of me, at whatever time, or in whatever place, I will do it without hesitation, even if it risked that life which you have twice saved, and which henceforth belongs to you."

"I rely upon your word, Señor Don Zeno," seriously answered the young man; "I will remind you of it, if occasion requires."

"You will always find me ready to keep my word."

Too weak to remain longer standing, he seated himself before the fire, and his friends took their places by his side.

CHAPTER XIII

EXPLANATIONS

The fire had been lighted; the four men, conquered by sleep, and fatigued by the struggle which they had had with the lions, were wrapped in their ponchos and their blankets, and were not long in getting to sleep.

When the sun appeared on the horizon, the four men awoke nearly at the same time.

Zeno Cabral, thanks to the repose that he had taken, had recovered, and, apart from some feebleness of speech, he awoke fresh, and in a condition to continue his journey.

The first care of the Montonero on awaking was to rise and run to his horse, which he began carefully to groom, and then gave him some provender.

This duty accomplished, the young man returned to his companions, who had carelessly and without curiosity noticed his movements.

As to the painter, he had drawn from his game bag some palomas, had plucked them, and spitting them on the ramrod of his gun, had placed them over the fire, placing at the same time some sweet potatoes on the hot embers.

The Frenchman was thinking of refreshment; the events of the night had sharpened his appetite, and made him ready for breakfast.

The great haste which the Montonero had exhibited with regard to his horse was but a pretext for him to put his ideas in order, and to prepare to answer questions which the Indian chiefs would no doubt put to him. The surprise that they had manifested on seeing that he knew Don Emile had not escaped him; he did not wish to give them time for their doubts to change into suspicions; he knew the instinctive distrust of the Indians, and it was of the greatest importance to him not to arouse it; he therefore resolved to confront the difficulty so as to avoid disagreeable remarks.

"Eh, Don Emile!" said he gaily to the young painter, taking his seat by his side; "You are a man of precaution, it seems to me that's a succulent breakfast that you are preparing there."

"A breakfast of which you and these caballeros will take part, I hope," graciously answered the young man.

"As to me, I accept your offer with the greatest pleasure; but," added he, changing his tone, "will you permit me to ask you a question?"

"Two, if you like, señor."

"You will pardon this apparent indiscretion, for which the interest I have in you is the only excuse."

"I am persuaded of it, señor; but you can speak. I have not, thank God, occasion to fear any indiscretion."

"If that is the case – and I congratulate you on it – I will explain myself without fear."

"Pardieu!" said Emile, turning the spit on which he was concentrating all his attention; "Speak, my dear sir; do not hesitate the least in the world."

The two chiefs, apparently indifferent to this conversation, which they understood perfectly, for it was carried on in Spanish, listened attentively to it.

"In the first place," pursued the Montonero, "let me express my astonishment at meeting you here, when I thought you were very far off."

"The matter is very simple however. After the storm that had assailed us near the Valle del Tambo, when you had left us as well as Señor Pincheyra, I confess that my companions and I were much embarrassed."

"What! Señor Don Pablo Pincheyra left you suddenly?" cried the Montonero, feigning surprise.

"Mon Dieu! Yes," answered the young man, good naturedly; "he pretended that we were too far from his camp for his escort to be useful to us, and that, since you thought fit to attend to your affairs, he did not see any reason why he should not attend to his; and thereupon made us his compliments, and went away – of which, between ourselves, I was very glad, for notwithstanding all the courtesy which Don Pablo has manifested towards us, his company, I confess, was not at all agreeable to me."

"But the persons with whom I had set out from the camp of Casa-Frama, and whom I had commended to you before my departure?"

"Señor Don Pablo did not concern himself with them, and after having taken leave of me in a few words, he set off with his partisans."

"Ah! And then?"

"Then I also set out, a little embarrassed, as I have already told you. Happily for me, and for the persons who accompanied me, at the moment when lost in the mountains, we wandered through unknown paths without knowing where to direct our steps, Providence sent us a numerous troop of Indian horsemen."

"What!" quickly interrupted Zeno Cabral; "These whites of whom you spoke to me last night, chief – "

"That caballero and the persons of his suite," answered the old chief, affirmatively nodding his head.

"That, upon my word, is a very extraordinary incident. When the chief spoke to me on the subject, I boldly answered that I did not know you."

All the suspicions of the chief had suddenly vanished before this frank explanation.

The Montonero understood that he had attained the end which he sought.

"You have no other questions to ask me, señor," said the painter, in a slightly jeering tone.

"Well, I will ask you one thing more."

"Do so; I will answer you."

"Well, I should like to know if chance, alone, has brought you here?"

"The two wild animals brought me here," answered the young man, in a somewhat sardonic tone.

"Which means – ?"

"Simply this – wakened by the roar of the lions, the thought suddenly occurred to me to chase them. As soon as my resolution was taken, I rose, seized my gun, and, without any other indications than the roar of the animals, I immediately pursued them. Chance led them here, and I followed them; that is the whole history – are you satisfied with it?" added he.

"Perfectly, my dear sir," answered the Montonero, and mentally adding – "this lion hunt is only a pretext; it conceals something from me; I will watch."

"And now, if you like, señor," resumed the young man, "we will take breakfast."

"With all my heart," answered the Montonero.

The palomas were taken from the spit, the sweet potatoes drawn from under the embers, and the breakfast began. We need not add that the four people did justice to this improvised repast.

The meal finished – and it did not last more than a quarter of an hour, for the dangers of desert live induced frugality – the cigarettes were lighted.

"I think," said Emile, addressing the chiefs, "that it is time for us to return to the camp. If nothing detains Don Zeno Cabral in this place, he will perhaps do us the honour to accompany us."

"It would be with the greatest pleasure that I should accept your obliging offer, caballero," answered the partisan. "Unhappily, my way is diametrically opposite to that in which you are going."

"Permit me, then, caballero, to take leave of you," answered the young man, rising.

"You will not go away without taking the skin of your lion."

"And that of the lioness, that I am happy to offer you," added Gueyma

"I thank you, and accept your offer joyfully," said the young man; "unhappily, I do not know how to proceed to skin these noble animals."

"Will you permit us to say a few words to our friend? We shall then be happy to render you this service."

"Very well, gentlemen, I am at your orders," answered the young man, stretching himself again upon the grass; and he mentally added – "Perhaps I shall thus learn something."

But the painter's hope was completely deceived; it was in vain for him to pay the most earnest attention; it was impossible for him not to hear, for they spoke in a very high voice, but to understand a word of the conversation, for the simple reason that, either from mistrust or because they could more easily express their thoughts in that language, the conversation of the three men took place in Guaycurus.

The conversation lasted for more than an hour, in a very animated way; at last, Zeno Cabral turned towards Emile, who was still lying on the grass, and carelessly smoking his cigar. Extending his hand to him, he said in a friendly tone —

"I am going, Señor Don Emile; we leave on good terms, I hope?"

"I do not see why it should be otherwise, señor," answered the young man, taking the hand that was extended to him.

"Thank you; adieu, Don Emile," and he went towards his horse, that he began to saddle and bridle.

The French painter had risen, and had gone to the wild beasts, which the Indian chiefs, as soon as their conversation was ended, had proceeded to skin. The young man was anxious to be present at this curious operation, which the Guaycurus, armed only with their knives, executed with unimaginable skill and rapidity.

"Don Emile!" cried Zeno Cabral.

"What do you want with me, señor?" answered the latter.

"Not adieu; it is au revoir that I ought to have said; I do not know how it is, but I have the conviction that we shall soon see one another again."

"And I, too," answered the painter.

"What do you mean?" asked Zeno Cabral.

"Nothing more than what you say yourself, señor; you have a conviction – I have a presentiment – is there anything astonishing in that?"

The partisan looked at him with profound attention; then, appearing to take a sudden resolution —

"Au revoir, Señor Don Emile," said he, in a sorrowful voice; and lifting his hand to his hat, which he slightly raised, set off at a full gallop.

The young man followed him some time with his eyes along the windings of the route; when at last he had disappeared on the border of a forest, into which he plunged without slackening his pace, the painter shook his head.

"There is evidently something in the wind; I must watch more than ever!"

The two chiefs, after having skinned the lions, were proceeding to rub the inside of the skins with ashes, so as to preserve them from decomposition until they could dry them in the sun.

It was about seven o'clock in the morning. The camp of the Guaycurus was not more than half a league from the spot where the partisan had established himself for the night; the distance, then, could be accomplished in very little time.

"Well!" asked the painter, "What shall we do now, chiefs?"

"What you like, señor," answered the Cougar; "the skins are prepared; it only remains for us to shoulder them."

"That shall devolve on me," said the young man; "I have already given you sufficient trouble."

The old chief smiled gently.

"Let me carry one, and you shall take the other."

The painter offered no further objection; he soon felt the justice of the remark of the old Indian. The skin that he had taken on his shoulders still wet, was very heavy and difficult to carry.

As there was nothing else to do in the partisans' camp, they then set off left the bloodstained bodies of the lions to the vultures, who had been for a long time wheeling above them, and who swooped down immediately the men had disappeared.

The latter had resumed – walking with that gymnastic step peculiar to the Indians, and which, in a very short time, enables them to cover a great deal of ground – the way to their camp, followed with great difficulty by the Frenchman, who was nearly all the time forced to run to keep up with them.

We will now explain to the reader what motive had led the young man so suddenly to the camp of Zeno Cabral.

To do this we must go back a few hours to the moment when the Cougar and Gueyma, after having conversed a long time with Arnal round the council fire, had risen, and made the tour of the camp to assure themselves that everyone was asleep, and had then gone away under the pretext that they were going to reconnoitre a spot where they had seen a fire in the night, shining like a solitary lighthouse at a short distance off.