The Indian Scout: A Story of the Aztec City. Gustave Aimard

you may be right; but tell me, beside that noble curiosity, which you so frankly confessed, have you not, by accident, a few other defects?"

      The bandit appeared to reflect conscientiously for two or three minutes, and then answered, with an affable grin, —

      "My faith! no, Excellency. I cannot find any."

      "Are you sure of that?"

      "Hum! it may be so, yet I do not believe it."

      "Come, you see, you are not sure."

      "That is indeed true!" the bandit exclaimed, with pretended candour. "As you know, Excellency, human nature is so imperfect."

      Don Stefano gave a nod of assent.

      "If I were to help you," he said, "perhaps – "

      "We might find it out, Excellency," Domingo quickly interrupted him. "Well, help me, help me, I ask for nothing better."

      "Hum! for instance – but notice that I affirm nothing; I suppose, that is all."

      "¡Caray! I am well aware of it. Go on, Excellency, do not trouble yourself."

      "Then, I say – have you not a certain weakness for money?"

      "For gold, especially."

      "That is what I meant to say."

      "The fact is, gold is very tempting, Excellency."

      "I do not wish to regard it as a crime, my friend. I only mention it; besides, that passion is so natural – "

      "Is it not?"

      "That you must be affected by it."

      "Well, I confess, Excellency, that you have guessed it."

      "Look you! I was sure of it."

      "Yes, money gained honestly."

      "Of course! Thus, for instance, suppose anyone offered you a thousand piastres to discover the secret of Don Miguel Ortega's palanquin?"

      "Hang it!" the bandit said, fixing a sharp glance on the stranger, who, for his part, examined him attentively.

      "And if that somebody," Don Stefano went on, "gave you in addition, as earnest penny, a ring like this?" While saying this, he made a magnificent diamond ring flash in the bandit's eyes.

      "I would accept," the latter said, with a greedy accent, "even if I were compelled, in order to discover that secret, to imperil the share I hope for in Paradise."

      Don Stefano turned to Brighteye. "Unfasten this man," he said, coldly, "we understand each other."

      On feeling himself free, the half-breed gave a bound of joy. "The ring!" he said.

      "There it is," Don Stefano said, as he handed it to him; "all is arranged."

      Domingo laid his right-hand thumb across the left, and raised his head proudly. "On the Holy Cross of the Redeemer," he said, in a clear and impressive voice, "I swear to employ all my efforts in discovering the secret Don Miguel hides so jealously; I swear never to betray the Caballero with whom I am treating at this moment: this oath I take in the presence of these three Caballeros, pledging myself, if I break it, to endure any punishment, even death, which it may please these three Caballeros to inflict on me."

      The oath taken by Domingo is the most terrible a Spanish American can offer; there is not a single instance of it ever having been broken. Don Stefano bowed, convinced of the bandit's sincerity.

      At this moment, several shots, followed by horrible yells, were heard at a short distance off. Brighteye started. "Don José," he said to the stranger, as he laid his hands on his shoulder, "Heaven favours us. Return to the camp; tomorrow night I shall probably have some news for you."

      "But those shots?"

      "Do not trouble yourself about them, but return to the camp, I tell you, and let me act."

      "Well, as you wish it, I will retire."

      "Till tomorrow?"

      "Tomorrow."

      "And I?" Domingo said. "Caramba, comrades, if you are going to play at knives, can you not take me with you?"

      The old hunter looked at him attentively. "Eh!" he said, at the expiration of a moment, "your idea is not a bad one; you can come if you desire it."

      "That is capital, for it is a pretext ready made to explain my absence."

      Don Stefano smiled, and after reminding Brighteye once again of their meeting for the following night, he left the thicket, and proceeded toward the camp. The two hunters and the half-breed were left alone.

      CHAPTER IV

      INDIANS AND HUNTERS

      As we have already said, at the spot where the three hunters were standing, the Rio Colorado formed a wide sheet, whose silvery waters wound through a superb and picturesque country. At times, on either bank, the ground rose almost suddenly into bold mountains of grand appearance; at other places, the river ran through fresh and laughing prairies, covered with luxuriant vegetation, or graceful and undulating valleys, in which grew trees of every description.

      It was in one of these valleys that Brighteye's canoe had been pulled in. Sheltered on all sides by lofty forests, which begirt them with a dense curtain of verdure, the hunters would have escaped, even during the day, from the investigations of curious or indiscreet persons, who might have attempted to surprise them at this advanced hour of the night, by the flickering rays of the moon which only reached them after being followed through the leafy dome that covered them: they could consider themselves as being perfectly secure.

      Reassured by the strength of his position, Brighteye, so soon as Don Stefano had left him, formed his plan of action with that lucidity which can only be obtained from a lengthened knowledge of the desert.

      "Comrade," he said to the half-breed, "do you know the desert?"

      "Not so well as you, certainly, old hunter," the latter answered, modestly, "but well enough to be of good service to you in the expedition you wish to attempt."

      "I like that way of answering, for it shows a desire of doing well. Listen to me attentively; the colour of my hair, and the wrinkles that furrow my forehead, tell you sufficiently that I must possess a certain amount of experience; my whole life has been spent in the woods; there is not a blade of grass I do not know, a sound which I cannot explain, a footstep which I cannot discover. A few moments back, several shots were fired not far from us, followed by the Indian war yell; among those shots I am certain I recognized the rifle of a man for whom I feel the warmest friendship; that man is in danger at this moment – he is fighting the Apaches, who have surprised and attacked him during sleep. The number of shots leads me to suppose that my friend has only two companions with him; if we do not go to his help, he is lost, for his adversaries are numerous; the thing I am about to attempt is almost desperate; we have every chance against us, so reflect before replying. Are you still resolved to accompany Ruperto and myself; in a word, risk your scalp in our company?"

      "Bah!" the bandit said, carelessly, "a man can only die once; perhaps I shall never again have so fine an opportunity of dying honestly. Dispose of me, old trapper – I am yours, body and soul."

      "Good; I expected that answer; still, it was my duty to warn you of the danger that threatened you: now, no more talking, but let us act, for time presses, and every minute we waste is an age for the man we wish to save. Walk in my moccasins; keep your eye and ear on the watch; above all, be prudent, and do nothing without orders."

      After having carefully inspected the cap on his rifle, a precaution imitated by his two companions, Brighteye looked round him for a few seconds, then, with that hunter's instinct which in them is almost second sight, he advanced with a rapid though silent step in the direction of the fighting, while making the men a sign to follow him.

      It is impossible to form an idea, even a distant one, of what a night march is on the prairie, on foot, through the shrubs, the trees which have grown together, the creepers that twine in every direction. Walking on a shifting soil, composed of detritus of every nature accumulated during centuries, at one place forming mounds several feet high, surrounded by deep ditches, not only