Stoneheart: A Romance

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.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE CATASTROPHE

Several days had elapsed since the fall of the presidio of San Lucar. The pueblo had been given up to pillage, with refinements of barbarity impossible to describe. Only the principal buildings had been spared, thanks to the measures employed by the Tigercat, who to save the immense treasures they contained, had allotted them to the most powerful sachems of the tribes who followed him.

The old freebooter had established his headquarters in the former dwelling of Don Torribio Quiroga, which the latter had gracefully ceded to him. Doña Hermosa and her father had resumed possession of their own mansion.

The town, with none but Indians for inhabitants, had a mournful aspect: no more commerce; no more cheerful songs; nothing left of the careless spirit of gaiety which formerly animated the Mexican colony. Here and there in the open streets lay corpses, battled for by the birds of prey, festering, and infecting the atmosphere. In a word, the whole scene afforded the spectacle of that desolation which accompanies a war of extermination between two races who have been foes for centuries.

About a week after the events we have described in the preceding chapter, three persons were assembled, about ten o'clock in the morning, in a room in Don Pedro de Luna's house, and were talking in low tones. These three persons were, Don Pedro himself, Doña Hermosa, and the worthy capataz Luciano Pedralva, who, huddled up in the fantastical costume of a vaquero, looked like a monstrous robber, exciting bursts of laughter from Ña Manuela, who was seated, on the watch, at a window. Every time she looked at him, she broke into a fresh laugh, to the indignation of the capataz, who voted his disguise at the devil.

"Well as we have agreed," said Don Pedro, "you must put on your pumps, Luciano, and prepare for the dance."

"And it is to take place today?"

"It must, my good friend. It seems to me that we live in singular times, and in a very singular country. I have seen many revolutions, but this beats them all."

"As for me," said Doña Hermosa, "it seems consistent enough from an Indian point of view."

"Very possible, my dear. I am not going to enter into a discussion with you; but you must confess that a month ago we were far from expecting such a prompt re-establishment of the Apache power on these frontiers."

"You know, Don Pedro, I understand none of these matters; only it appears to me that the Tigercat is not very magnanimous for a man about to become a sovereign."

"What do you mean by that, Luciano?"

"I mean what everyone ought to mean. The letter he sent Don Fernando the day before yesterday is explicit enough; for in it he tells him, shortly and sharply, that if he is found in the colony five days after its receipt, he will have him hanged."

"If he can catch him!" said Doña Hermosa hastily.

"That is understood," replied the capataz.

"What is there in that to astonish you, Luciano?" said Don Pedro. "By Heavens! What extraordinary things I have witnessed in my life! I myself know a score of people to whom the same threats have been made, and who are yet alive and well."

"It is all one; but, in spite of that, I do not like it."

"But this is all foreign to our matter. You will return to the hacienda, Don Luciano; and remember my advice."

"Trust to me, señor. But I have something else to say."

"Say what you will, my good friend; but lose no time."

"I am dreadfully anxious about Don Estevan," replied the capataz, in a voice so low that it could not reach Ña Manuela's ears; "for six days he has disappeared, and we hear no tidings of him."

Doña Hermosa smiled slyly. "Estevan is not the man to lose himself without leaving a trail," said she. "Tranquilize yourself: at the proper time you will see him again."

"So much the better, señorita; for he is a man to be relied on."

"Don Torribio!" suddenly exclaimed Manuela.

"Indeed!" said the capataz; "Then it is time for me to vanish."

"Follow me quickly;" cried the mayor domo's mother.

The capataz bent reverently before Doña Hermosa and Don Pedro, and left the room with Manuela.

The door by which they went out had hardly closed upon them, when another opened, and Don Torribio entered. He wore a superb Indian dress; his forehead was lined with care, and his looks were sad. He bowed to Doña Hermosa, cordially grasped the hand of Don Pedro, and took his seat at a mute sign from the lady.

After the interchange of a few common-place words, the daughter of the hacendero, whom Don Torribio's downcast demeanour disquieted more than she liked to evince, turned gracefully towards him, and said, with an assumption of interest which was admirably acted:

"What ails you, Don Torribio? You look sad. What bad news have you received?"

"None, señorita; though I thank you for the interest you take in my affairs. Were I ambitious, I should feel content; for all my aspirations have been realised. In receiving your hand, a few days hence, the dream of my whole life will be fulfilled. You see, señorita," he added, with a mournful smile, "that I allow you to peer into the depths of my heart."

"I am thankful for what you say; but, Don Torribio, you were not thus a few days ago. Something must have – "

"Nothing personal, I assure you. But the nearer the time comes for the ceremony of taking possession of the territories we have won back, the greater discouragement masters me. I can by no means approve the determination of the Tigercat to have himself officially declared an independent sovereign; it is a folly I cannot comprehend. The Tigercat knows better than any one how impossible it is to maintain himself here. The Apaches, brave as they are, will never be able to hold their own against the disciplined force the Mexican Government will despatch against us, as soon as they hear of this outbreak."

"Is it impossible to induce the Tigercat to change his purpose?"

"It is. I have tried every means to show him the insanity of his project. He will listen to nothing. The man has an object in view known to himself alone; the wish he loudly proclaims – to regenerate the race of redskins – is a mere pretext."

"You shock me, Don Torribio! If this is the case, why not give him up?"

"Can I do so? Am I not already a renegade? Shall I confess to you, señorita? Although every thing seems prosperous, – although the future seems to have nothing but smiles for me, – yet, for the last few days, an invincible despondency has crept over me. Everything looks dark, and I feel world worn. In a word, I have a foreboding that I am on the eve of a terrible misfortune."

Doña Hermosa cast a piercing glance at him, which he did not observe. "Banish these mournful thoughts," said she, with emphasis; "henceforth your fate is settled; nothing can alter it."

"I believe so; but, you know, señorita, mischance may come between the cup and the lip."

"Come, come, Don Torribio!" said Don Pedro gaily; "Let us to breakfast. It is the last repast you will share with us before the ceremony of taking possession. Is it still to be today?"

"It is!" replied Don Torribio, offering his hand to Doña Hermosa, to lead her into another room, where a splendid meal was prepared.

At first they were very silent; the guests seemed ill at ease; but by degrees the efforts of Doña Hermosa and her father to cheer Don Torribio succeeded in breaking the ice, and the conversation became more lively. Yet it was easily seen that Don Torribio had a hard struggle to repel the thoughts that rose to his lips, and to condemn them to silence.

Towards the close of the repast, the chief turned to Doña Hermosa.

"Señorita," he said, "tonight my future will be settled. In taking part, as an Indian chief, in the ceremony of today, I shall throw down the gauntlet to my countrymen, by giving them to understand that I openly join the cause of the redskins; and that what they at first supposed to be an Indian raid grew, thanks to the Tigercat and me, into the rising of a whole nation. I know the pride of the whites! Unable to utilise the immense territories they possess, they will still never leave us in peaceful enjoyment of the heritage we have carved out for ourselves at the point of our lances. The Mexican Government will wage a war of destruction upon us. Can I depend upon you?"

"Before answering, Don Torribio, I must demand a clearer explanation."

"And you shall have it. Reprisals are what the Spaniards most dread in an Indian insurrection; that is to say, a massacre of the whites. My carriage with a Mexican would be a gage of peace from us to them – a pledge for the future security of their commerce, and the observance of the relations to be established between us. Our path is marked out, however the chiefs of the tribes may object. Neither the Tigercat nor I will deviate from it a hair's breadth. Señorita, I address this frank and loyal question to you: Will you grant me your hand?"