Part 61 (1/2)

I glanced along their line. I never saw faces with such expressions as I saw there and then. Their lips were white, and drawn tightly over their teeth; their cheeks were set and colourless; and their eyes, protruding forward, seemed glued in their sockets. There was no motion to be detected in the features of any, save the twitching of angry muscles. Their right hands were buried in the bosoms of their half-open s.h.i.+rts, each, I knew, grasping a weapon; and they appeared not to sit, but to crouch forward, like panthers quivering upon the spring.

There was a long interval of silence on both sides.

It was broken by a cry from without--the scream of the war-eagle!

We should not have noticed this, knowing that these birds were common in the Mimbres, and one might have flown over the ravine; but we thought, or fancied, that it had made an impression upon our adversaries. They were men not apt to show any sudden emotion; but it appeared to us that, all at once, their glances grew bolder, and more triumphant. Could it have been a signal?

We listened for a minute. The scream was repeated; and although it was exactly after the manner of a bird well known to us--the white-headed eagle--we sat with unsatisfied and tearful apprehensions.

The young chief, he in the hussar dress, was upon his feet. He had been the most turbulent and exacting of our opponents. He was a man of most villainous and licentious character, so Rube had told us, but nevertheless holding great power among the braves. It was he who had spoken in refusal of Seguin's offer, and he was now about to a.s.sign his reasons. We knew them without that.

”Why,” said he, looking at Seguin as he spoke, ”why is it that the white chief is so desirous of choosing among our captives? Is it that he wishes to get back the yellow-haired maiden?”

He paused a moment, as if for a reply; but Seguin made none.

”If the white chief believes our queen to be his daughter, would not he wish that her sister should be her companion, and return with her to our land?”

Again he paused; but, as before, Seguin remained silent.

The speaker proceeded.

”Why not let the yellow-haired maiden return with us, and become my wife? Who am I that ask this? A chief of the Navajoes, the descendants of the great Montezuma; the son of their king!”

The savage looked around him with a vaunting air as he uttered these words.

”Who is she,” he continued, ”that I am thus begging for a bride? The daughter of one who is not even respected among his own people: the daughter of a culatta!”

I looked at Seguin. I saw his form dilating. I saw the big veins swelling along his throat. I saw gathering in his eyes that wild expression I had once before noticed. I knew that the crisis was near.

Again the eagle screamed!

”But,” proceeded the savage, seeming to draw new boldness from the signal, ”I shall beg no more. I love the white maiden. She must be mine; and this very night shall she sleep--”

He never finished the sentence. Seguin's bullet had sped, piercing the centre of his forehead. I caught a glimpse of the red round hole, with its circle of blue powder, as the victim tell forward on his face!

All together we sprang to our feet. As one man rose hunters and Indians. As if from one throat, pealed the double shout of defiance; and, as if by one hand, knives, pistols, and tomahawks were drawn together. The next moment we closed and battled!

Oh! it was a fearful strife, as the pistols cracked, the long knives glittered, and the tomahawks swept the air; a fearful, fearful strife!

You would suppose that the first shock would have prostrated both ranks.

It was not so. The early blows of a struggle like this are wild, and well parried, and human life is hard to take. What were the lives of men like these?

A few fell. Some recoiled from the collision, wounded and bleeding, but still to battle again. Some fought hand to hand; while several pairs had clutched, and were striving to fling each other in the desperate wrestle of death!

Some rushed for the door, intending to fight outside. A few got out; but the crowd pressed against it, the door closed, dead bodies fell behind it; we fought in darkness.

We had light enough for our purpose. The pistols flashed at quick intervals, displaying the horrid picture. The light gleamed upon fiend-like faces, upon red and waving weapons, upon prostrate forms of men, upon others struggling in every att.i.tude of deadly conflict!

The yells of the Indians, and the not less savage shouts of their white foemen, had continued from the first; but the voices grew hoa.r.s.er, and the shouts were changed to groans, and oaths, and short, earnest exclamations. At intervals were heard the quick percussions of blows, and the dull, sodden sound of falling bodies.

The room became filled with smoke and dust, and choking sulphur; and the combatants were half-stifled as they fought.