The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West. Gustave Aimard

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      The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West

      PART I. RED CEDAR

      CHARTER I

      THE VIRGIN FOREST

      In Mexico the population is only divided into two classes, the upper and the lower. There is no intermediate rank to connect the two extremes, and this is the cause of the two hundred and thirty-nine revolutions which have overthrown this country since the declaration of its independence. Why this is so is simple enough. The intellectual power is in the hands of a small number, and all the revolutions are effected by this turbulent and ambitious minority; whence it results that the country is governed by the most complete military despotism, instead of being a free republic.

      Still the inhabitants of the States of Sonora, Chihuahua, and Texas have retained, even to the present day, that stern, savage, and energetic physiognomy which may be sought in vain among the other States of the Confederation.

      Beneath a sky colder than that of Mexico, the winter, which frequently covers the rivers of the region with a thick layer of ice, hardens the muscles of the inhabitants, cleanses their blood, purifies their hearts, and renders them picked men, who are distinguished for their courage, their intelligence, and their profound love of liberty.

      The Apaches, who originally inhabited the greater portion of New Mexico, have gradually fallen back before the axe of the pioneers; and after retiring into the immense deserts that cover the triangle formed by the Rio Gila, the Del Norte, and the Colorado, they ravage almost with impunity the Mexican frontiers, plundering, firing, and devastating all they meet with on their passage.

      The inhabitants of the countries we alluded to above, held in respect by these ever-shifting savages, are in a state of continual warfare with them, always ready to fight, fortifying their haciendas, and only travelling with weapons in their hands.

      El Paso del Norte may be regarded as the outpost of the civilised portion of Mexico. Beyond that, to the north and north-west, extend the vast unfilled plains of Chihuahua, the bolsón of Mapimi, and the arid deserts of the Rio Gila. These immense deserts, known by the name of Apacheria, are still as little investigated as they were at the close of the eighteenth century. El Paso del Norte owes its name to its situation near a ford of the Rio Del Norte. It is the oldest of all the New Mexican settlements, and its establishment dates back to the close of the sixteenth century. The present settlement is scattered for a distance of about ten miles along the banks of the Del Norte, and contains four thousand inhabitants at the most. The plaza, or village of the Paso, is situated at the head of the valley: at the other extremity is the Presidio of San Elezario. All the interval is occupied by a continuous line of white, flat-roofed houses, buried in gardens, and surrounded by vineyards. About a mile above the ford the stream is dammed up, and led by a canal into the valley, which it waters. Apacheria begins only a few miles from this settlement.

      It is easily seen that the foot of civilised man has only trodden timidly and at rare intervals this thoroughly primitive country, in which nature, free to develop herself under the omnipotent eye of the creator, assumes an aspect of incredible beauty and fancifulness.

      On a lovely morning in the month of May, which the Indians call "the moon of the flowers," a man of high stature, with harsh and marked features, mounted on a tall, half-tamed steed, started at a canter from the plaza, and after a few minutes of hesitation, employed in realising his position, resolutely buried his spurs in the horse's flanks, crossed the ford, and after leaving behind him the numerous cottonwood trees which at this spot cover the river banks, proceeded toward the dense forest that flashed on the horizon.

      This horseman was dressed in the costume generally adopted on the frontiers, and which was so picturesque that we will give a short description of it. The stranger wore a pelisse of green cloth, embroidered with silver, allowing a glimpse of an elegantly-worked shirt, the collar of which was fastened by a loosely-knotted black silk handkerchief, the ends passed through a diamond ring. He wore green cloth breeches, trimmed with silver, and two rows of buttons of the same metal, and fastened round the hips by a red silken scarf with gold fringe. The breeches, open on the side half way up the thigh, displayed his fine linen drawers beneath: his legs were defended by a strip of brown embossed and stamped leather, called botas vaqueras, attached below the knee by a silver garter. On his heels enormous spurs clanked. A manga, glistening with gold, and drawn up on the shoulder, protected the upper part of his body, while his head was sheltered from the burning sunbeams by a broad-leafed hat of brown stamped felt, the crown of which was contracted by a large silver toquilla passed twice or thrice round it.

      His steed was caparisoned with graceful luxuriousness, which heightened all its beautiful points: a rich saddle of embossed leather, adorned with massive silver, on the back of which the zarapé was fastened; wide Moorish silver stirrups, and handsome water bottles at the saddle-bow; while an elegant anquera, made of openwork leather, and decorated with small steel chains, entirely covered the horse's croup, and sparkled with its slightest movement.

      The stranger appeared, judging from the luxury he displayed, to belong to the high class of society. A machete hung down his right side, two pistols were passed through his girdle, the handle of a long knife protruded from his right boot, and he held a superbly damascened rifle across the saddle in front of him.

      Bending over the neck of his galloping steed, he advanced rapidly without looking round him, although the landscape that lay extended before him was one of the most attractive and majestic in those regions.

      The river formed the most capricious windings in the centre of a terrain diversified in a thousand strange ways. Here and there on the sandy banks enormous trees might be seen lying, which, dried up by the sun, evidenced, in their washed-out appearance, that they had been dead for centuries. Near the shallow and marshy spots, caymans and alligators wandered about awkwardly. At other places, where the river ran almost straight, its banks were uniform, and covered with tall trees, round which creepers had twined, and then struck root in the ground again, thus forming the most inextricable confusion. Here and there small clearings or marshy spots might be detected in the midst of the dense wood, often piled up with trees that had died of old age. Further on, other trees, which seemed still young, judging from their colour and the solidity of their bark, fell into dust with the slightest breath of wind.

      At times, the earth, entirely undermined beneath, drawn down by its own weight, dragged with it the wood which it bore, and produced a crashing, confused sound, which was returned on all sides by the echo, and possessed a certain degree of grandeur in this desert, whose depths no man has ever yet ventured to scrutinise.

      Still the stranger galloped on, with his eye ardently fixed before him, and not appearing to see anything. Several hours passed thus: the horseman buried himself deeper in the forest. He had left the banks of the river, and only progressed with extreme difficulty, through the entanglement of branches, grass, and shrubs, which at every step arrested his movements, and forced him to make innumerable turnings. He merely reined in his horse now and then, took a glance at the sky, and then started again, muttering to himself but one word:

      "Adelante! (Forward!)"

      At length he stopped in a vast clearing, took a suspicious glance around him, and probably reassured by the leaden silence which weighed on the desert, he dismounted, hobbled his horse, and took off its bridle that it might browse on the young tree shoots. This duty accomplished, he carelessly lay down on the ground, rolled a maize cigarette in his fingers, produced a gold mechero from his waist belt, and struck a light.

      The clearing was of considerable extent. On one side the eye could survey with ease, through the trees, the widely extending prairie, on which deer were browsing with security. On the other side, the forest, wilder than ever, seemed, on the contrary, an impassable wall of verdure. All was abrupt and primitive at this spot, which the foot of man had so rarely trodden. Certain trees, either entirely or partially dried up, offered the vigorous remains of a rich and fertile soil; others, equally ancient, were sustained by the twisted creepers, which in the course of time almost equalled their original support in size: the diversity of the leaves produced the strangest possible mixture. Others, containing in their hollow trunk a manure which, formed of the remains of their leaves and