Stoneheart: A Romance

"Fernando, my determination is irrevocable. Whatever you may say, I shall follow you. Fidelity is an heirloom in our family; and I must do this day what my father did not hesitate to do long ago for the family to whom we are attached. I repeat once more, Fernando, my duty compels me to be with you."

"Think no more of it, Estevan; think of your mother, and her grief."

"I think of nothing but what honour bids me."

"Estevan, I cannot consent to what you wish. Again I say, think of your mother's grief if she should lose you."

"My mother, Fernando, would be the first to bid me go, were she here."

"Spoken like a man!" said a gentle voice behind them. They turned, and saw Ña Manuela. "I have heard all," she said. "Thanks, Don Fernando, for speaking as you did; I will never forget your words. But Estevan is right: duty compels him to follow you. You lose your time in trying to dissuade him. He springs from a race who never tamper with their duty. Let him go with you. If he falls, I shall weep, – perhaps I shall die; but I shall die blessing him, for he will fall in the service of those whom, through five generations, we have sworn to serve faithfully."

Stoneheart gazed with admiration at the mother who did not hesitate to sacrifice her son to her sense of duty, regardless of the boundless love she bore him. He felt himself a weakling, compared with this self-denial. Words failed him, and he could only manifest by signs his acquiescence in a wish so energetically expressed.

"Go, my sons," she continued, raising her eyes to heaven with an expression of holy fervour; "God, who sees all, sees your devotedness. He will reward you. The rule of the wicked on earth is short; the protection of the Almighty will be with you – will defend you in every danger. Go without fear; He tells me you will prosper in your undertaking. Farewell!"

"Farewell, mother," replied the two men, moved even to tears.

The noble woman pressed them to her heart, but could not part from them without an effort. "Remember this law," she said, – "it is the basis of honour: do your duty, whatever may happen. Farewell, farewell!" She turned, and hastily entered the jacal for, in spite of herself, tears were regaining the mastery, and she would weaken their resolution. The others were silent for a time, looking steadfastly at the jacal.

"You see," said Don Estevan, at last, "my mother herself orders me to follow you."

"Be it as you will, then," said Stoneheart, with a sigh; "I will no longer oppose your wishes."

"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed the mayor domo.

Stoneheart carefully examined the heavens. "It is two o'clock," he said; "at half past three it will be daylight. We must go."

Don Estevan left him, to bring up the horses. They were soon saddled. The men left the camp, gave their horses the spur, and dashed into the desert. By sunrise they had ridden six leagues. They were following the course of one of those nameless rivers which traverse the wilderness in every direction, and ultimately fall into some larger stream.

"Let us halt here a while," said Stoneheart; "first to breathe our horses, and then to take a few precautions indispensable to our success."

Dismounting, they took the bits from the horses' mouths, leaving them at liberty to crop the luxuriant grass on the banks of the river.

"The time has come, Estevan," said Don Fernando, "when I must teach you something, without which it would be impossible to avoid the dangers we are about to encounter; I must reveal a secret known only to us, 'the bee-hunters.' Hardly two leagues farther on, we shall have to enter the swamps, swarming with serpents, and we must take the requisite precautions against their fatal bite, for every reptile we shall meet on the road will be of the most venomous species."

"The devil!" ejaculated Don Estevan, turning somewhat pale.

"I will give you a lesson. When we have once put on our armour, we can trample with impunity on the heads of the most dangerous."

"¡Caray!" replied Don Estevan; "your secret is worth knowing."

"You shall prove it soon. Come with me. Of course you are acquainted with the guaco?"

"Certainly. I have often helped it in his battles with snakes."

"Very well. I dare say you are ignorant of the means this intelligent bird employs to heal the wounds in the mortal combats which always terminate in the destruction of the reptile?"

"I confess, Fernando, that I have never attempted to fathom the mystery."

"Then it is lucky, Estevan, that I have thought for both. Come, close at hand I see several stems of the mikania twisting round the cork trees: That is what we want. We will take a supply of the leaves of the guaco creeper."

Don Estevan, without troubling his head concerning his friend's intentions, set about collecting the leaves of the creeper he had pointed out. By dint of exertion, a goodly number were soon heaped upon the ground. When Stoneheart deemed the quantity sufficient, he gathered them up in his zarapé, and returned to the spot where they had left their horses. Without further explanation, he began to pound the leaves on a flat stone he brought from the edge of the water. Don Estevan, taking great interest in the mysterious operation, occupied himself in collecting in a coui (or gourd) the juice which ran from the leaves as Stoneheart crushed them. The work lasted an hour, by which time the coui was filled to the brim with a greenish liquid.

"What are we to do now?" said Don Estevan, puzzled more and more.

"That is a delicate question, my friend," replied Stoneheart, with a laugh. "We must undress; then, with the point of the navaja, we will make longitudinal incisions in our breasts, our arms, thighs, and between the fingers and toes, just deep enough to cause blood to flow. Afterwards, we will carefully inject the liquid we have collected into these incisions. Have you sufficient courage to inoculate yourself with the mikaniajuice?"

"Certainly, Fernando, though the operation will be painful. But what good will it do us?"

"Only the least in the world! We shall be invulnerable. We shall be able to trample thousands of snakes under our feet; and their bites shall do us no more harm than the prick of a pin." Stoneheart said no more, but undressed himself, and coolly began to make incisions in his body. Don Estevan followed his example. After slicing themselves in this fashion, they rubbed the cuts with the juice of the creeper, leaving the liquid time to dry in before they resumed their dress.

"Well, that is done," said Stoneheart. "We need not keep our horses: the poor brutes would infallibly perish, for we cannot insure them from the serpents. We will leave them here, and pick them up when we return; only let us hobble them well, for fear they should stray too far."

The saddles were carefully hidden under some bushes, and the two hardy adventurers commenced their journey on foot, trailing their rifles, and holding in one hand a slender but tough twig of mesquite, to cut the reptiles in two which might dispute their passage. They marched rapidly, one behind the other, shaking the grasses on right and left with their rods, to dislodge the snakes, and following a track left by a numerous body of horsemen.

Suddenly they saw a dead body before them horribly swollen and putrified, over which they were obliged to step.

"Ah!" said Stoneheart, "Here lies a poor wretch, who probably did not know the uses of the guaco creeper."

Just at that moment, a sharp hissing was heard, and a beautiful little snake, about as thick as the little finger, and seven or eight inches long, crept from under the corpse, raised itself upon its tail, and, darting with wonderful rapidity, fixed itself on Stoneheart's right leg.

"Your pardon, my good fellow," said he coolly; "you have made a mistake!" and, seizing it by the tail, he swung it round, and crushed its head on the ground. "It is a ribbon snake," he added; "bitten by him, you have just eleven minutes to live. You grow first yellow, then green; then you begin to swell, and all is over – with this exception: you have the consolation of changing colour once more, this time from green to black. It is odd, is it not, Estevan?"

"¡Caray!" replied the latter, who could not help shuddering; "Yours was a lucky thought, Fernando."

"Do you think so, Estevan?"

"By heavens! It is self-evident. Ha! Crush that coral snake coiling round your leg!"

"Why, really, so he is! Well, he is a gentleman who takes liberties!" Saying this, he seized the reptile, and crushed him. "It is a lovely country," he continued. "It is quite diverting to travel here. Halloa! more bodies! – This time a man and horse. They have died together. Poor brute!"

And thus they went on all day. The farther they advanced, the more numerous were the snakes; they met them by threes and fours together. At intervals they found more bodies stretched across their path, proving that they were still on the right trail, and that the Tigercat had left the greater number of his companions on the road. With all their courage, they could not refrain from shuddering at the frightful spectacles they had witnessed in passing through this dreadful place.

Suddenly Stoneheart stopped, bent his body forward, made a sign to his friend to be still, and listened anxiously. "If I am not mistaken," he whispered, "somebody is coming this way."

"Someone!" exclaimed the astonished Estevan. "Impossible!"

"And why so? We are here, and why not others?"

"Quite right: but who can it be?"

"We shall soon see;" and he dragged his companion behind a thick bush, where they crouched for concealment.

"Cock your rifle, Estevan. Who can tell whom we may have to meet?"

The mayor domo obeyed. Both kept motionless, expecting the arrival of the individual, whose steps were now clearly distinguishable.

During the last hour, the path our adventurers were pursuing had gradually begun to rise, with frequent turnings – a sure proof that they were quitting the swamps, and approaching the region which was free from reptiles.

Stoneheart soon saw a shadow thrown across an angle in the path, and immediately afterwards a man appeared. Stoneheart recognised him directly by his tall stature and long white beard. It was the Tigercat. Stoneheart whispered a few words in his companion's ear, and, drawing himself together, bounded at one spring into the middle of the path. The Tigercat showed no surprise at this sudden apparition. "I was coming to look for you," he said calmly, as he halted.

"Then your task is finished," said Stoneheart, "for here I am."

"No, it is not ended; for, while you show yourself in my camp, I shall go to yours."

"You think so?" said Stoneheart, with a mocking laugh.

"Certainly. Do you think to bar my passage?"

"Why not? Is it not mine to settle affairs between us?"

"For my part, I see no reason. You are not looking for me, I suppose?"

"You are wrong, Tigercat! I came here on purpose to seek you."

"Me, and another person."

"You, first of all; for we have a long account to settle."

"We are losing time," said the Tigercat impatiently. "Listen, and try to understand me. Doña Hermosa is close by; she expects you, for I have promised to bring you together. She has charged me with certain messages to her father; and on that account I must go to your camp. But first, I will lead you to mine – a sad one: of all my followers, but four are left; the rest are dead."

"I know; I saw their bodies on the road. It is you who have slain them. Why did you lead them here?"

"Never mind. What is done cannot be undone. But time presses; will you follow me? I wish to deal openly with you."

"No! I do not trust you. Why have you come into this fearful place?"

"Did you not guess, my son? Merely to be sure that my prisoner was safe."

"You made a mistake, for I am here."

"Perhaps I did. But enough of this. Here, take my rifle. Tell your friend, the barrel of whose rifle I see gleaming through the branches, to come from behind his bush. Perchance you will not be afraid to follow me now, when I am unarmed, and you two to one."

Stoneheart reflected for a moment, and then said: "Come forth, Estevan!"

His friend was at his side in a moment.

"Keep your rifle," said Stoneheart to the Tigercat; "no one must travel in the wilderness without weapons."

"Thanks, Fernando," replied the old chief; "I see you have not forgotten the old rule: a backwoodsman never quits his rifle."

The Tigercat turned and led the way to his camp, the two others following exactly in his footsteps. In about an hour they reached it, pitched halfway up the Voladero, in a spacious cavern. The chief had told the truth – only four out of all his men survived.

"Before going farther," he said, when they got there, "I have a condition to exact."

"To exact!" said Stoneheart ironically, emphasizing the words.

The Tigercat shrugged his shoulders. "At a sign from me, those men will stab Doña Hermosa to the heart without hesitation; you see, I have the power to exact."

"Speak, then," said Stoneheart, trembling for her sake.

"I will leave you here alone with Doña Hermosa. I, your friend, and my four comrades, will leave the Voladero at once. In two days, and not before, you will quit the mountain, and come to your camp, where you will find me."

"Why do you impose this condition?"

"You have nothing to do with that: is it so hard, that you will not submit to it? But, briefly, I do not choose to explain; answer – yes or no. Except on this condition you shall not see Doña Hermosa."

"How do I know whether she is still alive?"

"What good would it have done me to kill her?"

Stoneheart hesitated for a moment. "I accept the conditions," said he at last; "I will stay here two days."

"Good! Now go to her; as for us we will leave you."

"One instant longer! My friend – will you be answerable for his safety? I know I can trust your word."

"I swear to you, I will look upon him as my own friend as long as he remains with me, and you shall find him safe and sound in the camp."

"Enough. Farewell, Estevan; console Don Pedro, and tell him on what conditions his daughter has been restored."

"I will tell them to him myself," said the Tigercat, his mouth contorted with a strange expression.

Stoneheart and Don Estevan bade each other farewell; then the former rapidly approached the cavern, while the Tigercat, his four followers, and the mayor domo, went down the path into the plains. On reaching the nearest trees, the Tigercat halted for a moment, and turned to the cavern into which Stoneheart had just entered. "Aha!" he exclaimed, with a sinister smile, and rubbing his hands with delight; "At last I am sure of my revenge!"

He followed his companion, and they were soon lost to sight, behind the intervening foliage.

CHAPTER XVIII.

EL VOLADERO DE LAS ÁNIMAS

We have already said that Don Fernando Carril, or Stoneheart, had passed the greater part of his life in the wilderness. Brought up by the Tigercat in the perilous calling of a bee-hunter, chance had occasionally brought him, most unwillingly we confess, to the district in which he now found himself. Thus he was well acquainted with the Voladero de las Ánimas, even to its inmost recesses. He had often sought shelter in the cavern where Doña Hermosa was now a prisoner, and found it again without difficulty, although the access to it was so well masked by certain features of the mountain, that any other would have been some time in discovering it. The cavern, one of the greatest curiosities of this part of the country; contains several chambers, extending far into the hill, and two broad passages, which terminate in two apertures, like gigantic windows, exactly under the peak of the Voladero, where they hang at a height of a thousand feet over the plain; the conformation of the mountain being so singular that, looking down from them, nothing is to be seen but the tops of the trees below.

Stoneheart entered the cavern, which by another remarkable peculiarity, was lighted throughout its whole extent by innumerable fissures in the rock, admitting sufficient daylight to enable objects to be perceived at a distance of twenty or twenty-five paces. He was very restless; the conditions imposed by Tigercat depressed his spirit to a degree he could not shake off. He could not help asking himself why the old chief had insisted on his remaining two days with Doña Hermosa on the mountain before he rejoined the camp. He suspected some treachery in these conditions; but of what kind? That was the riddle he could not solve.

He walked slowly through the cavern, looking right and left in the hope of finding her; and, for more than half an hour, could see no indications of her presence.

The sun was already disappearing below the horizon when Stoneheart had issued from the forest; the cavern, sombre enough in the daytime, was at this hour in almost total darkness; so he retraced his steps, to obtain a light for the purpose of resuming a search which otherwise the obscurity rendered impossible. On reaching the entrance to the cavern, he availed himself of the last gleam of daylight to look about him. Some torches of ocote wood were carefully arranged close to the entrance. Producing flint and steel, he speedily procured a light; and, arming himself with a kindled torch, again made his way into the cave. He traversed several chambers without success: and had begun to suspect that the Tigercat had duped him, when he perceived a faint glimmer at some distance in advance of him, which gradually approached, until its light was sufficient to reveal the form of Doña Hermosa.

She too held a torch in her hand. She was walking with a slow and unsteady step, her head sunk on her breast, in an attitude of poignant sorrow. Doña Hermosa came nearer and nearer, till she was within fifty paces of Stoneheart. Uncertain how to attract her attention, he was on the point of calling to her, when she chanced to raise her head. On seeing a man before her, she stopped, and haughtily demanded: "Why have you entered this corridor? Have you forgotten that your chief has forbidden anyone to enter it and annoy me?"

"Forgive me, señorita," replied Stoneheart gently; "the order was unknown to me."

"Heavens!" cried she; "That voice! Is it a a dream?" She dropped her torch, and hastened to approach Stoneheart, who likewise rushed towards her. "Don Fernando!" she exclaimed; "Don Fernando here, in this horrible den! Great God! what further evil is at hand? Have I not suffered enough yet?"

Overcome by emotion, she lost all consciousness, and sank, fainting, into the arms of Stoneheart. Alarmed at the occurrence, and not knowing how to recall her to her senses, he hurried her back to the entrance to the cavern, hoping that the fresh air might restore her. He placed her carefully on a heap of dry leaves, and left her to herself. Stoneheart was a man whose courage reached the verge of temerity. A hundred times he had looked death in the face with a smile; but when he saw the girl lying before him, her features rigid, and pale as death, he trembled like a child; a cold sweat broke out over his forehead, and tears – the first he had ever shed – rolled down his face.

"My God, my God!" he exclaimed; "I have killed her!"

"Who speaks?" said Doña Hermosa in feeble accents, the current of air rushing into the cave having somewhat revived her. "Do I really hear Don Fernando? Can it be he?"

"It is I; it is indeed I, Hermosa. Collect yourself, and forgive me for causing this sudden fright."

"I am not alarmed," she answered; "on the contrary, your presence relieves me, Don Fernando, if your appearance in this dreadful place augurs no new misfortune."

"Calm yourself, señorita," he said, drawing gently near her; "I am no omen of evil; I bring good tidings."

"Why seek to deceive me, my friend? Are not you too a prisoner of the monster in human shape who has kept me captive so long?" She rose; the colour returned to her cheeks. She extended her hand to Stoneheart, who, kneeling, clasped it in both his own, and covered it with kisses. "Now we shall no longer be alone; we shall suffer together," she said, fixing an earnest look upon him.

"Dearest Hermosa, your sufferings are at an end; I do indeed bring you good tidings."

"What is it you say, Don Fernando? Your words are incomprehensible. How can you talk of good tidings, while we are both in the power of the Tigercat."

"No, señorita; you are no longer in his power."

"Free!" she exclaimed in ecstasy; "Is it possible O my father! My father! I shall see you once more!"

"You shall see him very soon, Hermosa. Your father is not far hence, with all you love – Don Estevan and Ña Manuela."

Doña Hermosa fell on her knees, with an expression on her face impossible to describe. Lifting her clasped hands to heaven, she uttered a long, silent, and fervent prayer.

Stoneheart gazed upon her with reverential admiration. The sudden transition from sorrow and despair to this excess of joy excited him infinitely. He felt intensely happy – happier than he had ever known himself before.

When Doña Hermosa rose from her knees, she had regained her calmness. "And now, Don Fernando," she said in gentle accents, "as we are really free, let us sit down outside the cave. Tell me all that has happened since I was torn away from my father."

They left the cavern, and sat down, side by side, on the green turf, canopied by the night, which hung cool and odorous above them; and Stoneheart began his story. It lasted a long time; for Doña Hermosa frequently interrupted him, to make him repeat details concerning Don Pedro, and night had sped away before the recital ended. "It is your turn, señorita," said Stoneheart, as soon as he had finished. "You have now to relate what has happened to you."

"As for me," she replied, with a charming smile, "the month has passed in sorrowful thoughts of those from whom I was torn. But I must be just enough to confess, that the man who bore me away treated me with respect – nay, on several occasions he sought to console me and alleviate my grief, by holding out hopes of my soon seeing those whom I love so dearly."

"The Tigercat's conduct is incomprehensible," said Stoneheart thoughtfully. "Why did he carry you off, when he has restored you to us again with so little demur?"

"It is strange," said she; "what could his object be? But I am tree! Thank Heaven, I shall see my father again!"

"Tomorrow we will go to him."

Doña Hermosa looked at him in surprise.

"Tomorrow!" she exclaimed; "Why not today? Why not at once?"

"Alas!" said he, "I have sworn not to leave this place until tomorrow! The Tigercat would only restore you to liberty on this condition."

"How singular! Why should that man wish to keep us here?"

"I will tell you the reason!" cried Don Estevan, suddenly appearing before them.

"Estevan!" they exclaimed, rushing towards him.

"What happy chance brings you here?" asked Stoneheart.

"It is no chance, brother. God has permitted me to overhear words spoken by the Tigercat, which have given me as clear an insight into his plans as if he himself had revealed them."

"Explain your words, Estevan?"

"Yesterday, when I left you, Fernando, you turned your steps to the cavern, while we retraced ours to the forest. I know not why, but my heart was heavy, and I felt loth to quit you. I could not help fancying that the Tigercat's urbanity covered some deadly purpose against you. So I went slowly down the hill. I happened to turn when I reached the forest, and saw that the chief had ceased to follow us. He had halted a few paces from me. He was rubbing his hands with ferocious delight; his eyes were earnestly fixed on the cave, and I distinctly heard him utter these words: 'At last I am sure of my revenge!' It was like a sudden gleam of light; the diabolical plan the monster had conceived started forth in all its hideousness. Don Fernando, you remember how we became acquainted?"

"I do, Estevan; the remembrance is too near for me to forget it."

"You recollect your conversation on the island with the Tigercat, which I overheard? The insinuations of the man? The implacable hatred to Don Pedro he openly avowed?"