Part 29 (1/2)
”No, not enough, I fear.”
”But why?”
”The white man is not in his senses. He has lost them long ago. The little left him is given to Shebotha. He fears her, as all our people do; but he more than any. She has surely left him with commands to keep a close watch. He does not disobey her; and it may be impossible for me to speak with the paleface, much more get her away from him.”
”_Caspita_!” exclaims Gaspar, his countenance again turning grave.
”There will be a difficulty there, I see it; if the man's crazed, as you say he is, Nacena. You think he won't let you speak with the prisoner, unless you have permission from Shebotha?”
”He will not--I am sure he will not.”
”In that case all may be idle, and our scheme go for nought. _Por Dios_! what's to be done?”
Pressing his head between his hands, the gaucho stands considering, while the other three in silence await the result. His deliberation is not for long; a bright idea has flashed across his brain, and with his countenance also recovering brightness, he exclaims--
”_Gracios a Dios_! I know how it can be managed; I think I know.”
Ludwig and Cypriano have it on their tongues to inquire what he means.
But before either can say a word, he is off and away in a rush toward the scaffold-post to which Shebotha is tied.
Reaching it, he is seen with arms outstretched and in rapid play, as though he were setting her free. Far from that, however, is his intention. He but undoes the knot around her neck, and raising the poncho, clutches at something which encircles her throat. He had noticed this something while throttling her when first caught; it had rattled between his fingers as the beads of a rosary, and he knew it to be such, with a slight difference--the beads being human teeth! A remembrance, moreover, admonishes him that this ghastly necklace was worn by the sorceress, not for adornment, but to inspire dread. It is, in fact, one of her weapons of weird mystery and power, and an idea has occurred to him that it may now be used as an instrument against herself.
Having detached it from her neck, and replaced the poncho upon her head, he returns to where he had left the others, and holding out the string of teeth, says to Nacena--
”Take this. Present it to the crazy paleface; tell him Shebotha sent it as a token authorising you to act for her; and, if he be not altogether out of his wits, I warrant it'll get you admission to the presence of the paleface. For anything beyond, you will best know how to act of yourself.”
The girl grasps the hideous symbol, a gleam of intelligence lighting up her swarth but beautiful face. For she, too, antic.i.p.ates the effect it will have on Shebotha's slave, from actual knowledge--not by guessing, as with Gaspar.
Knowing herself now at liberty and free to depart, without saying another word, she turns her back upon them; and gliding away with the agile, stealthy step peculiar to her race, soon pa.s.ses beyond their sight.
They stand looking after her, till her dark figure disappears amid the shadows of the scaffolds. But they have no doubt of her fidelity--no fear that she will fail to do what she can for the fulfilment of her promise. The keeping it is secured by her own interested motives: for the pa.s.sion impelling her to act on their behalf, though purely selfish, can be trusted as truth itself.
CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.
A DELUDED JAILER.
Midnight's hour is past, the moon has gone down, and in the Indian town there is darkness and silence. Every one is asleep, or seems to be; since no light s.h.i.+nes either in _toldo_ or tent, neither can a human figure be seen in the streets, or anywhere around.
At some distance from the houses, however, among thickly-standing trees, and close into the base of the hill, is the quaint dwelling-place of Shebotha--half cave, half hut--and inside this flickers a faint light, from a dip candle of crude beeswax, with a wick of the fibre of the _pita_ plant. By its red flame, mingled with much smoke, a collection of curious objects is dimly discernible; not articles of furniture, for these are few, but things appertaining to the craft in which Shebotha is supposed to have skill--demonology. There are the bones and skins of monkeys, with those of snakes, lizards, and other reptiles; teeth of the alligator and jaguar; the proboscis-like snouts of the _tapir_ and _tamanoir_, or great ant-bear, with a variety of other like oddities, furnished by the indigenous creatures of the Chaco in every department of the zoological world--birds, quadrupeds, insects, reptiles, and fishes.
This motley conglomeration is for the most part arranged against the inner wall of the hut, and opposite the entrance, so as to be observable by any one looking in at the door, or even pa.s.sing by it. For its purpose is to impress the superst.i.tious victims of Shebotha's craft with a belief in her witching ways. And to give this a more terrifying and supernatural character, a human skull, representing a death's head, with a pair of tibia for crossbones underneath, is fixed centrally and prominently against the wall.
The same light that so faintly illuminates this paraphernalia of repulsive objects, also s.h.i.+nes upon one that is pleasing--this the figure of a young girl, with a face wonderfully fair. For she is Francesca Halberger.
At the hour spoken of she is the sole occupant of the hut; its owner, Shebotha, being abroad. For it is the self-same hour and instant when the sorceress has the rosary of teeth s.n.a.t.c.hed so rudely from her neck.
She is seated on the edge of a _catre_, or cane bedstead, of the pallet kind, her head buried in her hands, through the white fingers of which her long golden tresses fall in rich profusion, scattered over and mingling with the fur of the great pampas wolf which serves as a sort of mattress for the bed.
The candle has burnt down into the socket of its rude stick, but at intervals flares up, with a crackling, sputtering noise; as it it does so, showing upon her features that same sad look as when she was being carried hither, a captive; only that her face is now paler, and the expression upon it telling of a despair deeper and more settled. She has slept but little from the day of her entrance under Shebotha's roof, and no great deal since she last lay on her own bed at home. What sleep she now gets is only in short s.n.a.t.c.hes; when tired nature can no longer continue the struggle with thoughts all the while torturing her. No wonder at sweet slumber being thus long denied her, with such memories to keep her awake! In fancy, ever before her seems the face of her father with that look of agony she last saw upon it, as he lay upon the ground, weltering in his gore. And in fancy also, she beholds the ruffian, Valdez, standing above the prostrate form, waving over it his blood-stained spear, a very demon exultant!
But her painful thoughts are not all of the past. She has doubts and fears also for the future, dark as she reflects on her own situation, and what will be done to her; but still darker when she thinks of those left behind and far away. What will become of her dear mother and brother? What of him--dear, ah! perhaps dearer than either--her handsome cousin? For Cypriano's affection for her is fully reciprocated.