The White Chief: A Legend of Northern Mexico Read online

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

  On the following day a new incident created a fresh surprise among theinhabitants of San Ildefonso, already excited by an unusual series of"novedades." About noon a party of lancers passed through the town ontheir way to the Presidio. They were returning from a scout in searchof the "assassin"--so Carlos was designated. Of him they had found notraces; but they had fallen in with a large body of "Indios bravos"among the spurs of the mountains, with whom they had had a terrificconflict! This had resulted in the loss of great numbers killed on thepart of the Indians, who had contrived, as usual, to carry off theirdead--hence, the soldiers had returned without scalps! They hadbrought, however,--a far more positive trophy of victory--a young girlbelonging to the settlement, whom they had re-captured from thesavages, and whom Captain Roblado--the gallant leader of theexpedition--_supposed_ to be the same that had been carried off few daysbefore from a rancho at the lower end of the valley!

  The captain halted in the plaza, with a few men--those in charge of therecovered captive. The remainder of the troop passed on to thePresidio. Roblado's object in stopping in the town, or in coming thatway--for it did not lie in his return route--was threefold. First, todeliver his charge into the hands of the civic authorities; secondly, tomake sure that everybody should witness the delivery, and be satisfiedby this living evidence that a great feat had been performed; andthirdly, that he might have the opportunity of a little swagger in frontof a certain balcony.

  These three objects the captain attained, but the last of them did notturn out quite to his satisfaction. Although the bugle had playedcontinuously, announcing the approach of a troop--although the recoveredcaptive was placed conspicuously in the ranks--and although his(Roblado's) horse, under the influence of sharp spurs, pitched himselfinto the most superb attitudes, all went for nothing--Catalina did notshow in the balcony! Among the faces of "dependientes" and "criados,"hers was not to be seen; and the triumphant look of the victoriousleader, as soon as he had ridden past, changed to a gloomy expression ofdisappointment.

  A few minutes after, he dismounted in front of the "Casa de Cabildo,"where he delivered the girl into the hands of the alcalde and otherauthorities of the town. This ceremony was accompanied by agrandiloquent speech, in which an account of the recapture was givenwith some startling details; sympathy was expressed for the parents ofthe girl, _whoever they might be_; and the speaker wound up byexpressing his opinion that the unfortunate captive could be no otherthan the young girl reported to have been carried off a few days before!

  All this was very plausible and proper; and Roblado, having resigned hischarge to the keeping of the alcalde, mounted and rode off amidst astorm of complimentary phrases from the authorities, and "vivas" ofapplause from the populace.

  "_Dios lo pague, capitan_!" (God reward you, captain!) was the prayerthat reached his ears as he pushed through the crowd!

  A keen physiognomist could at that moment have detected in the corner ofRoblado's eye a very odd expression--a mingling of irony with a strongdesire to laugh. In fact, the gallant captain could hardly keep frombursting out in the faces of his admirers, and was only restrained fromdoing so by the desire of keeping the joke bottled up till he couldenjoy it in the company of the Comandante--to whom he was now hastening.

  Back to the captive.

  The crowd pressed around her, all eager to gratify their curiosity.Strange to say that this feeling predominated. There was lessappearance of sympathy than might have been looked for under thecircumstances. The number of those that uttered the "pobrecita!"--thattender expression of Mexican pity--was few; and they were principallythe poor dark-skinned native women. The well-dressed shopkeepers, bothGachupinos and Criollos, both met and women, looked on withindifference, or with no other feeling than that of morbid curiosity.

  Such an indifference to suffering is by no means a characteristic of theNew Mexican people--I should rather say of the females of that land--forthe men are brutal enough. As regards the former, the very oppositecharacter is theirs.

  Their conduct would be unaccountable, therefore, but for the knowledgeof a fact which guided it on this occasion. They knew who the captivegirl was--they knew she was the sister of Carlos the cibolero--Carlos_the murderer_! This it was that checked the flow of their bettorfeelings.

  Against Carlos the popular indignation was strong. "Asesino", "ladron,""ingrato," were the terms used in speaking of him. A wretch! to havemurdered the good lieutenant--the favourite of the place; and for whatmotive? Some paltry quarrel or jealousy! What motive, indeed? Thereseemed no motive but a thirst of blood on the part of this "demonio,"this "guero heretico." Ungrateful wretch, too, to have attempted thelife of the valiant Comandante--he who had been striving all he could torecover the assassin's sister from the Indian savages!

  And now he had actually succeeded! Only think of it! There she was,brought safe home again by the agency of this very Comandante, who hadsent his captain and soldiers for her,--this very man whom he would havekilled! _Demonio! asesino! ladron_! They would all be glad to see himseated in the chair of the "garrote." No "buen Catolico" would haveacted as he had done--no one but a sinful "heretico"--a blood-loving"Americano"! How he would be punished _when caught_!

  Such were the feelings of all the populace, except, perhaps, the poorslaves--the _mansos_--and a very few Criollos, who, although notapproving of the acts of Carlos, held revolutionary principles, andhated the Spanish _regime_ with all their hearts.

  With such prejudice against the cibolero, no wonder that there was butlittle sympathy for the forlorn creature, his sister:

  That it _was_ his sister no one doubted, although there were few on thespot who knew either. Up to the day of the fiesta her brother, now sonotorious, was but little known to the inhabitants of the town, which herarely visited--she less; and there were but few in the place who hadever seen her before that hour. But the identity was unmistakeable.The fair, golden hair, the white skin, the glowing red of the cheeks,though common in other parts of the world, were rare characteristics inNorth Mexico. The proclamation upon the walls described the "asesino"as possessing them. This could be no other than his sister. Besides,there were those who had seen her at the fiesta, where her beauty hadnot failed to attract both admiration and envy.

  She looked beautiful as ever, though the red was not so bright on hercheek, and a singular, wild expression appeared in her eyes. To thequestions put to her she either answered not or returned vague replies.She sat in silence; but several times broke forth into strange,unintelligible, exclamatory phrases, in which the words "Indios" and"barbaros" repeatedly occurred.

  "_Esta loco_!" ("She is mad!") muttered one to another; "she fanciesshe is still with the savages!"

  Perhaps it was so. Certainly she was not among friends.

  The alcalde inquired if there was any one present--relative or friend--to whom he could deliver her up.

  A young girl, a poblana, who had just arrived on the spot, came forward.She knew the "pobrecita." She would take charge of her, and conducther to her home.

  A half-Indian woman was in company with the poblana. It might have beenher mother. Between the two the restored captive was led away; and thecrowd soon dispersed and returned to their various avocations.

  The girl and her conductors turned into a narrow street that led throughthe suburb where the poorest people lived. Passing this, they emergedinto the open country; and then, following an unfrequented path throughthe chapparal, a few hundred yards brought them to a small mud rancho,which they entered. In a few minutes after a carreta, in which sat apeon, was driven up to the door, and stopped there.

  The poblana, leading the girl by the hand, came out of the house, andboth mounted into the carreta. As soon as the two were seated upon thebunches of dry "zacato" thrown into the carreta for this purpose, thedriver goaded his oxen and moved off. The vehicle, after passing out ofthe chapparal path, took the main road leading to the lower settlementsof the v
alley.

  As they moved on the poblana regarded her companion with kind looks, andassisted her in arranging her seat, so as to defend her as much aspossible against the joltings of the carreta. She added numerousexpressions of a sympathising and consolatory character, but none thatbespoke recognition or old acquaintance. It was evident that the girlhad never seen Rosita before.

  When they had got about a mile from the town, and were moving along anunfrequented part of the road, a horseman was seen coming after, and atsuch speed as to overtake them in a few minutes. He was mounted on apretty mustang that bore the signs of being well cared for. Its flankswere rounded with fat, and it capered as it galloped along.

  As it came close to the carreta the rider called out to the driver tostop; and it then appeared that the _horseman_ was a _woman_, as thesoft sweet voice at once indicated. More than that, the rider was a_senorita_, as the soft cheek, the silky hair, and the delicatefeatures, showed. At a distance it was natural enough to have taken herfor one of the opposite sex. A common serape covered her shoulders; abroad-brimmed sombrero concealed most of her black shining hair; and sherode according to the general custom of the country--the custom of itsmen.

  "Why, Senorita!--is it you?" asked the poblana, in a tone of surprise,and with a gesture of respect.

  "Ha! ha! you did not know me, then, Josefa?"

  "No, Senorita;--_ay de mi_! how could I in that disguise?"

  "Disguise do you call it? Why, it is the usual costume!"

  "True, Senorita; but not for a grand senora like you. _Carrambo_!"

  "Well, I think I must be disguised, as I passed several acquaintanceswho would not bow to me! Ha! ha!"

  "_Pobrecita_--_ita_--_ita_!" continued she, suddenly changing her tone,and regarding Josefa's companion with a look of kind sympathy. "How shemust have suffered! Poor dear girl! I fear it is true what they havetold me. _Santisima Virgen_! how like--"

  The phrase was left unfinished. The speaker had forgotten the presenceof Josefa and the peon, and was delivering her thoughts in too loud asoliloquy. The unfinished sentence had involuntarily escaped from herlips.

  Suddenly checking herself, she looked sharply towards the two. The peonwas busy with his oxen, but the poblana's face wore an expression ofcuriosity.

  "Like whom, Senorita?" innocently inquired she.

  "One whom I know. No matter, Josefa." And, as the lady said this, sheraised her finger to her lips, and looked significantly towards thepeon.

  Josefa, who knew her secret, and who guessed the "one" meant, remainedsilent. After a moment the lady drew her mustang nearer the carreta,upon the side on which Josefa sat, and, bending over, whispered to thelatter:--

  "Remain below till the morning; you will be too late to return to-night.Remain! perhaps you may hear something. Come early--not to the house.Be in time for _oration_. You will find me in the church. Perhaps youmay see Antonio. If so, give him this." A diamond set in a goldencirclet sparkled a moment at the tips of the lady's fingers, and thenlay hid in the shut fist of the poblana. "Tell him _for whom_--he neednot know who sent it. There is money for your expenses, and some togive her; or give it to her mother, _if they will accept it_." Here apurse fell in Josefa's lap. "Bring me news! oh, bring me news, dearJosefa! _Adios! adios_!"

  The last salutation was uttered hurriedly; and, as the lady pronouncedit, she wheeled her glossy mustang and galloped back towards the town.

  She need not have doubted that Josefa would fulfil her instructionsabout "remaining below until the morning!" for the poblana was nearly,if not quite, as much interested as herself in this journey. The ratherpretty Josefa chanced to be the sweetheart of the half-blood Antonio;and whether she saw Antonio or not, she was not likely to hurry backthat night. If she did see him, so much the pleasanter to remain; ifnot, she should remain in the hope of such an event.

  With a full purse of "pesos"--a sixth of which would pay all expenses--and the prospect of meeting with Antonio, the rough carreta seemed allat once transformed to an elegant coach, with springs and velvetcushions,--such as Josefa had heard of, but had never seen!

  The kind-hearted girl readjusted the seats, placed the head of Rosita onher lap, spread her reboso over her to keep off the evening dew, andthen told the peon to move on. The latter uttered a loud "ho-ha!"touched his oxen with the goad, and once more set them in motion alongthe dusty road.