The Prairie Flower: A Tale of the Indian Border. Gustave Aimard

two ladies fell back, quite repulsed by this rough reception, while casting a curious and almost alarmed glance on the strange creature. But the latter, perfectly stoical, seemed to notice nothing. She explained in a few clear words the means she had found to conceal them: recommended them to remain silent in the hollow tree, and then ordered them to mount. The two ladies, after embracing Black and his son, began resolutely ascending the rungs of the improvised ladder. They reached in a few seconds an enormous branch, on which they stopped, by the orders of the stranger. Black then threw down into the interior of the tree the furs and provisions, after which the ladder was placed inside, and the ladies glided through the hole.

      "We leave you the ladder, which is useless to us," the stranger then said. "But be very careful not to come out till you have seen me again; the least imprudence, under the circumstances, might cost your lives. However, keep your minds at rest. Your imprisonment will not be long, a few hours at the most: so be of good cheer."

      The ladies once again tried to express their gratitude; but, without listening, the stranger made Black a sign to follow her, and rapidly descended from the tree. Aided by the Americans, she then began removing every trace that might have revealed where the ladies were bestowed. When the stranger had assured herself, by a final glance, that all was in order, and nothing could betray those who were so famously hidden, she sighed, and followed by the two men, walked to the intrenchments.

      "Now," she said, "let us watch attentively around us, for these demons will probably crawl close up in the shadows. You are free and honest Americans, show these accursed Indians what you can do."

      "Let them come!" Black muttered hoarsely.

      "They will soon do so," she replied, and pointed to several almost imperceptible black dots, which, however, grew larger, and were evidently approaching the encampment.

      CHAPTER VI

      THE DEFENCE OF THE CAMP

      The Redskins have a mode of fighting which foils all the methods employed by European tactics. In order to understand their system properly, we must, in the first place, bear in mind that the Indian idea of honour is different from ours. This understood, the rest may be easily admitted. The Indians, in undertaking an enterprise, have only one object – success, and all means are good to attain it. Gifted with incontestable courage, at times rash to an excess, stopping at nothing, and recoiling before no difficulty – for all that, when the success of these enterprises appears to them dubious, and that consequently the object is missed, they retire as easily as they advanced, not considering their honour compromised by a retreat, or by leaving the battlefield to an enemy more powerful than themselves, or well on his guard.

      Thus, their system of fighting is most simple, and they only proceed by surprises. The Redskins will follow the enemy's trail for entire months with unequalled patience, never relaxing their watch for a moment, spying him night and day, while ever careful not to be themselves surprised: then, when the occasion at last presents itself, and they fancy the moment arrived to execute the project, all the chances for or against which they have so long calculated, they act with a vigour and fury which frequently disconcert those they attack; but if after the first onset they are repulsed – if they see that those they attack will not let themselves be intimidated, and are prepared to resist, then, on a given signal, they disappear as if by enchantment, and, without any shame, begin watching again for a more favourable moment.

      Black, on the advice of the stranger, had placed himself and his party in such positions that they could survey the prairie in every direction. The stranger and himself were leaning on their rifles in the angle that faced the river. The prairie at this moment presented a singular appearance. The breeze, which at sunset had risen with a certain strength, was gently dying out, scarce bending the tops of the great trees. The moon, almost departed, only cast over the landscape an uncertain and timorous gleam, which, in lieu of dissipating the gloom, only rendered the darkness visible, through the striking contrasts between the obscurity and the pale and fugitive rays of the declining planet.

      At times, a dull roar or sharp bark rose in the silence, and, like a sinister appeal, reminded the emigrant that implacable and ferocious enemies were on the watch around, although invisible. The purity of the atmosphere was so great, that the slightest sound could be heard for an immense distance, and it was easy to distinguish the enormous blocks of granite that formed black dots on the ground.

      "Do you know for certain that we shall be attacked this night?" the American asked, in a low voice.

      "I was present at the last council of the chiefs," the unknown replied distinctly.

      The emigrant bent on her a scrutinising glance, which she recognised, and immediately understood; she shrugged her shoulders disdainfully.

      "Take care," she said to him, with a certain emphasis, "let not doubt invade your mind; what interest should I have in deceiving you?"

      "I know not," he replied dreamily "but I also ask myself what interest you have in defending me?"

      "None; since you place the matter on that footing, what do I care whether your wealth is plundered, your wife, your daughter, and yourself scalped? it is a matter of supreme indifference to me; but must the affair be only regarded from that side? Do you imagine that material interests have a great weight with me? If that is your opinion, I shall withdraw, leaving you to get out of your present position in the best way you can."

      While uttering these words, she had thrown her rifle over her shoulder, and prepared to climb over the palisade, but Black quickly checked her.

      "You do not understand me," he said; "any man in my place would act as I do; my position is fearful, you allow it yourself; you entered my camp, and it is impossible for me to guess how. Still, I have hitherto put the utmost confidence in you, as you cannot deny; but I do not know who you are, or what motive causes you to act. Your words, far from explaining, plunge me, on the contrary, into greater uncertainty; the safety of my entire family and all I possess is at stake: reflect seriously on all this, and I defy you to disapprove of my not putting utter confidence in you, although you are, doubtlessly, deserving of it, so long as I do not know who you are."

      "Yes," she answered, after a moment's reflection, "you are right, the world is so, people must first of all give their name and quality; egotism is so thoroughly the master over the whole surface of the globe, that even to do a person a service, you require a certificate of honesty, for no one will admit disinterestedness of heart, – that aberration of generous minds, which practical people brand as madness. Unfortunately, you must take me for what I appear, at the risk of seeing me go away, and hence any confidence on my part would be superfluous. You will judge me by my acts, the only proof I can and will give you of the purity of my intentions; you are free to accept or decline my assistance, and after all is over, you can thank or curse me at your choice."

      Black was more perplexed than ever; the stranger's explanations only rendered the fog denser, instead of affording him light. Still, in spite of himself, he felt himself attracted toward her. After a few moments of serious reflection, he raised his head, struck his rifle barrel smartly with his right hand, and looking his companion well in the face, said in a firm voice, —

      "Listen, I will no longer try to learn whether you come from God or the devil; if you are a spy of our enemies, or our devoted friend – events, as you said, will soon decide the question. But bear this in mind, I will carefully watch your slightest gesture, your every word. At the first suspicious word or movement, I will put a bullet through your head, even if I am killed the moment after. Is that a bargain?"

      The stranger began laughing.

      "I accept," she said. "I recognise the Yankee in that proposition."

      After this, the conversation ceased, and their entire attention was concentrated on the prairie. The most profound calm still continued to brood over the desert; apparently, all was in the same state as at sunset. Still the stranger's piercing eyes distinguished on the river bank several wild beasts flying precipitately, and others escaping across the river, instead of continuing to drink. One of the truest axioms in the desert is: – there can be no effect without a cause. Everything has a reason in the prairie, all is analysed or commented on; a leaf does not fall from a tree, a bird fly away, without the observer knowing or guessing why it has happened.

      After