1* 
 
J a 
 
 POPULAR WORES 
 
 BT 
 
 CAPTAIN MAYNE REID 
 
 1.— THE SCALP HUNTERS. 
 2. -THE WHITE CHIEF. 
 3.— THE RIFLE RANGERS. 
 4.— THE TIGER HUNTER. 
 5.— THE WAR TRAIL. 
 6.— THE HUNTER'S FEAST. 
 7.— THE WOOD RANGERS. 
 8.— WILD LIFE. 
 9.— THE WILD HUNTRESS. 
 10.— OSCEOLA, THE SEMINOLE. 
 
 Captain Mavue Re-id's 'work* are of an intensely interest- 
 ing and faircinHthlg character. Nearly all of tbem 
 being founded upon some hi?toiical event, they 
 potses* :i permanent value while presenting 
 a thri.iiu'*, earnest, dnsbing Action sur- 
 passed by no novel of th» day." 
 
 All ssued uniform w'h 'h s volume. Price, $i.5oeach, 
 and r,en; F KE b. mail, oi receipt ot pric , by 
 
 Q. W. DILLDTGHAM, PUBLISHER, | 
 
 SUCCESSOR TO 
 
 G. W. CARLETON & Co., New York. 
 
TIG-EK-HUXTER 
 
 A HERO IN SPITE OF HIMSELF. 
 
 CAPT. MAYNE REID, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 M THX WILD HUNTRESS," U THE WOODRANGEES," "WILDLIFE," 1; 03CEOLA, " tHB 
 'RIFLE RANGERS," "THE SCALP HUNTERS," "THE HUNTERS' FEAST," 
 "THE WHITE CHIEF," "THE MAROON," " THE QUADROON," &C. 
 
 *» 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 carrnioaT, 1889, bt 
 
 G. IV. Dillingham, Publisher^ 
 
 Successor to G. W. Carleton & Co. 
 
 MDCCCLXXXIX. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 
 DERBY & JACKSON, 
 In the Clerk's Offlce of the District Conrt of the United States for the 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1887, by 
 
 U. W. DLLLINGnAM, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Cougresa at Washington. 
 
THE TIGER-HUNTED 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 During one of many journeyings through the remote provinces 
 ©f the Mexican republic, it was my fortune to encounter an old 
 revolutionary officer in the person of Captain Castanos. From 
 time to time as we travelled together, he was good enough to give 
 me an account of some of the more noted actions of the prolonged 
 and sanguinary war of the Independence; and, among other narra- 
 tives, one which especially interested me was the famed battle of 
 the Puente de Calderon, where the Captain himself had fought dur- 
 ing the whole length of a summer's day ! 
 
 Of all the leaders, of the Mexican revolution there was none in 
 whose history I felt so much interest as in the jrriest-soldier, Mor- 
 elos — or, as he is familiarly styled in Mexican annals, the "illus- 
 trious Morelos" — and yet there was none of whose private life I 
 could obtain so few details. His public career having become his- 
 toric, was, of course, known to every one who chose to read of him. 
 But what I desired was a more personal and intimate knowledge 
 of this remarkable man, who from being the humble curate of an 
 obscure village in Oajaca, became in a few short months the victo- 
 rious leader of a well appointed army, and master of all the south 
 qvu provinces of New Spain. 
 
 " Can you give me any information regarding Morelos ?" I asked 
 of Captain Castanos, as we were journeying along the route be. 
 tween Tepic and Guadalaxara. 
 
 " Ah ! Morelos 1 he was a great soldier," replied the ex-captain 
 of guerillos. "In the single year cf 1811, he fought no less than 
 twenty-six battles with the Spaniards. Of these he won twenty- 
 two ; and though he lost the other four, each time he retreated 
 with honour " 
 
 " Hum ! I know all that already," said I, interrupting my fellow- 
 traveller. " You are narrating history to me, while I want only 
 chronicles. In other words, I want to hear those more private and 
 
 M12550 
 
10 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 particular details of Morelos' life which the historians have not 
 
 given." 
 
 " Ah ! I understand you," said the captain, " and I am sorry that 
 I cannot satisfy your desires : since, during the war I was mostly 
 engag^fl.'rn the\ROJ i tftfffi provinces, and had no opportunity of 
 knowing' 'much' (3f M'orelOs personally But if my good friend, 
 D</a ;(iorn£ltr> , L£fiJt£'jasY .Is stVIl living at Tepic, when we arrive 
 there," PsnalP put yw«ra«t)"mj»1unieatiqn with him. He can tell you 
 more about Morelos than any other living man ; since he. was aide- 
 de-camp to the General through all his campaigns, and served him 
 faithfully up to the hour of his death." 
 
 Our conversation here ended, for we had arrived at the inn 
 where we intended to pass the night — the Venta de la Sierra Ma- 
 dre. 
 
 Early on the following morning, before any one had yet arisen, I 
 left my chamber — in a corner of which, rolled in his ample manja, 
 Captain Castanos was still soundly asleep. Without making any 
 noise to disturb him, I converted my coverlet into a cloak — that is, 
 I folded my serape around my shoulders, and walked forth from 
 the inn. Other travellers, along with the people of the hostelry 
 inside, with the domestics and muleteers out of doors, were still 
 slumbering profoundly, and an imposing silence reigned over the 
 mountain platform on which the venta stood. 
 
 Nothing appeared awake around me save the voices of the sierras, 
 that never sleep — with the sound of distant waterfalls, as they 
 rushed through vast ravines, keeping up, as it were, an eternal dia- 
 logue between the highest summits of the mountains and the deep- 
 est gulfs that yawned around their bases. 
 
 I walked forward to the edge of the table-like platf)rm on which 
 the venta was built ; and halting there stood listening to these mys- 
 terious conversations of nature. All at once it appeared to me that 
 other sounds were mingling with them — sounds that suggested the 
 presence of human beings. At first they appeared like the intona- 
 tions of a hunter's horn — but of so harsh and hoarse a character, 
 that I could scarcely believe them to be produced by such an in- 
 strument. As a profound silence succeeded, I began to think my 
 senses had been deceiving me; but once more the same rude melo- 
 dy broke upon my ears, in a tone that, taken in connexion with tha 
 place where I listened to it, impressed me with an idea of the su- 
 pernatural. It had something of the character of those horns used by 
 tlje shepherds of the Swiss valleys ; and it seemed to ascend out of 
 the bottom of a deep ravine l'i.' yawned f:r beneath my feet. 
 
PROLOGUE. J j 
 
 1 stepped forward to the extreme edge of the rock, and looked 
 downwards. Again the noarse cornet resounded in my ears* and 
 this time so near, that I no longer doubted as to its proceedino 
 from some human agency. In tact, the moment after, a man's form 
 appeared ascending trom below, along the narrow pathway that zig 
 gaged up the face of the cliff. 
 
 I had scarce time to make this observation, when the man, sud 
 denlj turning the angle of the rock, stood close by my side, where 
 he halted apparently to recover his breath. 
 
 His costume at once revealed to me that he was an Indian ; 
 though his garments, his tall stature, and haughty mien, lent to him 
 an aspect altogether different from that of most of the Indians 1 
 had hitherto met in Mexico. The proud air with which he bore him- 
 self, the fiery expression of his eye, his athletic limbs and odd ap- 
 parel, were none of them in keeping with the abject mien which 
 now characterizes the descendants of the ancient masters of Ana- 
 huac. In the grey light of the morning, I could see suspended from 
 his shoulders the instrument that had made the mysterious music — 
 a large sea-shell — a long, slender, curved conch, that hung glisten- 
 ing under his arm. 
 
 Struck with the singular appearance of this man, I could not 
 help entering into conversation with him ; though he appeared aa 
 if he would have passed me without speaking a word. 
 
 " You are early abroad, friend V I remarked. 
 
 " Yes, master," he replied ; " early for a man as old as I am." 
 
 I could not help regarding this as a jest ; for over the shoulders of 
 the Indian fell immense masses of jet black hair, which seemed to 
 give contradiction to the statement of his being an old man. 
 
 I looked more narrowly into his countenance. His bronzed skin 
 appeared to cling closely to his angular features, but there were none 
 of those deep furrows that betray the presence of advanced age. 
 
 " How old are you ?" I asked at length. 
 
 "That I cannot tell, cavallero," replied he. "I tried from the 
 time I was able to distinguish the dry season from that of the rains 
 to keep an account of my age ; and I succeeded in doing so up till 
 I was fifty. After that, for particular reasons, I did not care to know 
 tt, and so I left off counting." 
 
 " Y'ou say you are more than fifty years old ?" and as 1 put this 
 inquiry I glanced at the long purple black tresses that hung over his 
 shoulders. 
 
 "Nearly half as much more," was the reply. "You are looking 
 s£ the color of my hair. There are ravens who have seen a hundred 
 
J 2 THE TIGER HUNTER. 
 
 seasons of rain without having a feather whitened. Ah ! what mat* 
 ters the course of years to me ? A raven croaked upon the roof of 
 my father's cabin when 1 was born, at the same instant that my fath. 
 er had traced upon the floor the figure of one of these birds. Well, 
 then ! of course I shall live as long as that raven lives. What use 
 then to keep a reckoning of years that cannot be numbered ?" 
 
 " You think, then, that your life is in some way attached to that 
 of the raven that perched on the paternal roof when you came 
 into the world P 
 
 " It is the belief of my ancestors, the Zapoteques, and it is also 
 mine," seriously responded the Indian. 
 
 It was not my desire to combat the superstitions of the Zapote- 
 ques ; and, dropping the subject, I inquired from him his purpose 
 in carrying the conch — whether it was for whiling away his time 
 upon the journey, or whether there was not also connected with it 
 some other belief of his ancestors ? 
 
 The Indian hesitated a moment before making reply. 
 
 "It is only a remembrance of my country," he said, after a short 
 silence. " When I hear the echoes of the Sierra repeat the sounds 
 of my shell, 1 can fancy myself among the mountains of Tehuan- 
 tepec, where I used to hunt the tiger — in pursuing my profession of 
 tigrero. Or at other times I may fancy it to be the signals of the 
 pearl seekers in the Gulf, when I followed the calling of a buzo 
 (diver); for I have hunted the sea tigers who guard the banks of 
 pearls under the water, as I have those that ravage the herds of cat- 
 tle upon the great savannas. But time passes, cavallero ; I must 
 say good day to you. I have to reach the hacienda of Portezuelo 
 by noon, and its a long journey to make in the time. Puez, adios, 
 cavallero /" 
 
 So saying, the Indian strode off with that measured step peculiar 
 to his race ; and was soon lost to my sight, as he descended into 
 the ravine on the opposite side of the plateau. 
 
 As I returned towards the inn 1 could hear the prolonged notes 
 of his marine trumpet rising up out of the chasm, and reverberat- 
 ing afar off against the precipitous sides of the Sierra Madre. 
 
 " What the devil is all this row about 1 ?" inquired Captain Ruper- 
 to Castanos, as he issued forth from the venta. 
 
 I recounted to him the interview I had just had ; and the singu- 
 lar communications 1 had received from the Indian. 
 
 '* It don't astonish me," said he ; " the Zapoteques are still more 
 pagan than Christians, and given to superstitious practices to a 
 
PROLOGUE. 13 
 
 greater degree than any other Indians in Mexico. Our Catholic 
 cu?'os in their villages are there only for the name of the thing, and 
 as a matter of formality. The business of the Worthy padres 
 among them must be a perfect sinecure. 1 fancy I understand what 
 the fellow meant, well enough. Whenever a Zapoteque woman is 
 about to add one to the number of their community, the expectant 
 father of the child assembles all his relations in his cabin; and, 
 having traced out the figures of certain animals on the floor, he 
 rubs them out one after another in their turn. That which is 
 being blotted out, at the precise moment when the child is born, is 
 called its tona. They believe that, ever after, the life of the new- 
 born is connected in some mysterious manner with that of the 
 animal which is its tona ; and that when the latter dies so will the 
 former ! The child thus consecrated to the tona, while growing up, 
 seeks out some animal of the kind, takes care of it, and pays res- 
 pect to it, as the negroes of Africa do to their fetish" 
 
 " It is to be presumed, then, that the Indian father will make 
 choice only of such animals as may be gifted with longevity ?"' 
 
 The captain made no reply to my suggestion, farther than to say 
 that the Zapoteque Indians were a brave race, easily disciplined, and 
 out of whom excellent soldiers had been made during the war of 
 the Revolution. 
 
 After a hasty desayuno at the venta, my travelling companion 
 and I resumed our journey ; and, crossing the second great chain 
 of the Mexican Andes, at the end of six days of fatiguing travel 
 we reached the ancient town of Tepic. 
 
 Here it was necessary for me to remain some time, awaiting the 
 arrival of important letters which I expected to receive from the 
 capital of Mexico. 
 
 During the first week of my stay at Tepic, I saw but very little 
 of my fellow-voyager — who was all the time busy with his own 
 affairs, and most part of it absent from the little fonda where we 
 had taken up our abode. What these affairs might be, God only 
 knows ; but I could not help thinking that the worthy ex-captain of 
 guerrillos carried on his commercial transactions, as in past times 
 he had his military ones — a little after the partizan fashion, and not 
 altogether in accordance with legal rules. 
 
 After all, it was no affair of mine. What most concerned me, 
 was that with all his running about he had not yet been able to 
 meet with his friend, Don Cornell o Lantejas — whom no one in Te- 
 pic seemed to know anything of — and I was beginning to suspect 
 
14 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 that the existence of this individual was as problematical as the 
 business of the captain himself, when a lucky chance led to the dis- 
 covery of the ex-aid-de-camp of Morelos. 
 
 " Don Ruperto appears to have gone crazy," said Dona Faustina, 
 our hostess of the fonda, one morning as 1 seated myself to break- 
 fast. 
 
 " Why, Dona Faustina ?" I enquired. 
 
 " Because, Cavallero," replied she, evidently piqued at the cap 
 tain's disregard of her hospitable board, " he is hardly ever here at 
 meal times, and when he does show himself, it is so late that the 
 tortillas enchillados are quite cold, and scarce fit to eat." 
 
 " Ah, Senora !" replied I, by way of excusing the irregularity of 
 the captain's habits, " that is not astonishing. An old soldier of the 
 Revolution is not likely to be very punctual about his time of eat- 
 
 i» g ." 
 
 " That is no reason at all," rejoined the hostess. " We have 
 here, for instance, the good presbitero, Don Lucas de Alacuesta, who 
 was an insurgent officer through the whole campaign of the illus- 
 trious Morelos, and yet he is to-day a very model of regularity in 
 his habits." 
 
 " What ! an officer of Morelos, was he V 
 
 " Certainly ; all the world knows that." 
 
 " Do you chance to know another old officer of Morelos, who is 
 said to live here in Tepic, Don Cornelio Lantejas V 9 
 
 " Never heard of him, Senor." 
 
 At this moment Don Ruperto's voice sounded outside, announ- 
 cing his return from one of his matitutiual expeditions. 
 
 " To the devil with your tortillas and black beans !" cried he, 
 rushing into the room, and making answer to the reproaches of 
 his hostess. " No, Dona Faustina — I have breakfasted already ; 
 and what is more, I shall dine to day as a man should dine — with 
 viands at discretion, and wine, as much as 1 can drink, of the best 
 vintage of Xeres ! 1 have breakfasted to-day, good clerical fashion. 
 Who with, do you think?" asked he, turning to me. 
 
 " Don Lucas de Alacuesta, perhaps ?" 
 
 " Precisely ; otherwise Don Cornelio Lantejas, who, on changing 
 his profession, has made a slight alteration in his name ; and who r 
 but for a lucky chance, I should never have found till the day of 
 judgement, since the worthy prcsbitero hardly ever stirs out from 
 his house. Who would have believed that an old soldier of the 
 Independence should so change his habits % In fact, however, w« 
 
PROLOGUE. 13 
 
 have had so man}' priests turned officers during the Revolution, 
 that it is only natural one officer should become a priest, by way of 
 compensation." 
 
 In continuation, Don Ruperto announced to me, that we w r ere 
 both invited to dine with his old acquaintance ; and further, that 
 the latter had promised 10 place at my disposition, such souvenirs of 
 the illustrious Morelos as I desired to be made acquainted with. j 
 
 I eagerly accepted the invitation ; and in three hours after, under : 
 the conduct of the captain, I entered the domicile of the worthy » 
 padre, Don Lucas de Alacuesta. It was a large house, situated 
 near the outskirts of the town, with an extensive garden, enclosed 
 by a high wall, rendered still higher by a stockade of the organ 
 cactus that grew along its top. 
 
 We found our host awaiting us — a thin little man, of some fifty 
 years of age, nimble in his movements, and extremely courteous 
 and affable He appeared to be one who occupied himself, much 
 less with the affairs of his parish, than with the cultivation of his 
 garden, and the preservation of entomological specimens — of which 
 he possessed a bountiful collection. 
 
 Nothing either in his speech or features, as in those of Captain 
 Castanos, recalled the ex-m'ditario, who had borne a conspicuous 
 part in the long and bloody campaigns of the revolutionary w r ar. 
 
 It is not necessary to give any details of the dinner — which was 
 after the fashion of the Mexican cuisine, and excellent of its kind. 
 Neither shall I repeat the conversation upon general topics ; but 
 enter at once upon those scenes described by the ex-aide-de-camp 
 of Morelos, and out of which our drama has been constructed. 
 
18 THE TIUEK-HUNTEtt. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE G II I T O OF HIDALGO. 
 
 The great revolutionary war of 1790 was not confined to France, 
 nor yet to Europe. Crossing the Atlantic, it equally affected the 
 nations of the New World — especially those who for three centu- 
 ries had submitted to the yoke of Spain. These, profiting by the 
 example set them by the English colonics in the north, had taken 
 advantage of the confusion of affairs in Europe, and declared their 
 independence of the mother country. 
 
 Of the Spanish-American vice kingdoms, New Spain — or Mexi- 
 co more properly called — was the last to raise the standard of In- 
 dependence ; and perhaps had the wise measures of her viceroy, 
 Iturrigaray, been endorsed by the court of Madrid, the revolution 
 might have been still further delayed, if not altogether prevented. 
 
 Don Jose Iturrigaray, then vice-king of New Spain, on the eve 
 of the insurrection had deemed it wise policy to grant largfe polit- 
 ical concessions to the Creoles, or native white population of the 
 country, and confer upon them certain rights of citizenship hitherto 
 withheld from them. 
 
 These concessions might have satisfied the Creoles with the gov- 
 ernment of the mother country, and perhaps rendered their loyalty 
 permanent. Mexico, like Cuba, might still have been a " precious 
 jewel " in the Spanish crown, had it not been that the decrees of 
 Iturrigaray produced dissatisfaction in another quarter — that is 
 among the pure Spaniards themselves — the Gackupinos, or colo- 
 nists from Old Spain, established in Mexico ; and who had, up to 
 this time managed the government of the country to the complete 
 exclusion of the Creoles from every office of honor or emolument. 
 
 These egoists, considered the acts of tho viceroy ruinous to their 
 
on; to ofc iiii)\m;i), 
 
 selfish interests, and the privileges they had hitherto enjoyed, seized 
 upon his person, and sent him to Spain to give an account of his 
 conduct. 
 
 Tyrannous counsels prevailed ; the prudent plans of Iturrigaray 
 were rejected, and Mexico fell back into the same political bondage 
 under which she had groaned since t e conquest of Cortez. 
 
 The dismissal of Iturrigaray took place in 1808. The Gaehnpi- 
 nos were not without apprehensions of an outbreak; but as two 
 years passed over in tranquility, their doubts became dissipated, 
 and they ceased to believe in the possibility of such an event. 
 
 Theirs was but a fancied security, and lasted only two years. 
 In 1810 it was abruptly terminated by the rising of Hidalgo in 
 one of the northern provinces, the news of which event descended 
 upon the Gachnpinos like a thunderbolt. 
 
 Strange enough that a priest should be the leader of this move- 
 ment in favor of liberty : since it was through priestly influence 
 that Mexico had all along been governed and oppressed ! But in 
 truth Hidalgo, and the other priests who figured in this insurrec- 
 tion, were a very different class of men from the great metropoli- 
 tan ecclesiastics of the capital and the larger cities, who conducted 
 the affairs of state. Hidalgo was but a simple village cura — a 
 child of the people — and so, too, were most of the other patriot 
 priests who espoused the popular cause. 
 
 In October 1810, Hidalgo had nearly one hundred thousand men 
 in the ranks of his army. They were badly armed and equipped, 
 but still formidable from their very numbers. This immense host, 
 which consisted principally of native Indians, overspreading the 
 country like a torrent, could not fail to produce consternation in 
 the minds of the Gachupinos. 
 
 Even among the Creoles themselves it created a certain confusion 
 of ideas. All these w r ere the sons or descendants of Spaniards, and 
 of course connected with the latter by ties of consanguinity, it 
 was but natural, therefore, that some of them should believe it to 
 be their duty to take the part of the government against the insur- 
 rection, while others should sacrifice the ties of family relationship 
 to the more noble idea of liberating their country from a foreign 
 yoke. 
 
 This difference of opinion among the Creoles existed only in 
 families of the higher and wealthier classes. Among the poorer 
 Mexicans — the people — whether white or half caste, there existed 
 only one sentiment, and that was in favor of independence from 
 Spain. The Indians of pure blood had their own ideas. They had 
 
18 THE tioeii-kunteh. 
 
 been more enslaved than the Creoles, and of course readily united 
 with them for the expulsion of the Spaniard — their common op- 
 pressor. Some of them also indulged in the idle dream that cir- 
 cumstances might restore the ancient splendour of the Aztec race^ 
 
Alf IRKSOME JOURNEY. 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AX IRKSOME JOURNEt. 
 
 In the morning of the month of October, a solitary traveller was 
 pursuing his route across the vast plains which extended from the 
 limits of the state of Vera Cruz through that of Oajaca. It is 
 scarcely necessary to say that the traveller was on horseback — in a 
 country where no one ever thinks of journeying on foot. He was 
 armed also, as well as mounted ; but both horse and weapon were 
 of such an indifferent character as to be ill suited for an encounter 
 with an enemy of any kind. This, too, in a country just then in a 
 state of revolution, where the traveller might expect to meet with 
 an enemy at any moment — either a political adversary, or one of 
 those professional bandits with whom Mexico at this time abounded, 
 and who robbed all alike, irrespective of party. 
 
 The only weapon our traveller possessed was an old curved sa- 
 bre ; but it was doubtful whether it could be drawn from its iron 
 scabbard, which appeared as rusty as if it had lain for years at the 
 bottom of a river. It was carried obliquely along the flap of the 
 saddle, and under the thigh of the horseman — the common mode in 
 Mexico — thus transferring the weight of the weapon from the hip 
 of the rider to the ribs of his horse. 
 
 The steed of our traveller showed evident signs of having been 
 at one time the property of some picador de toros : as was mani« 
 fested by the numerous scars that traversed his flanks and counter ; 
 but whatever good qualities he may have once possessed, he was evi- 
 dently now one of the sorriest of jades — worth no more than the 
 value of his own skin. Notwithstanding the repeated strokes of 
 the spur, which his rider administered without stint, it was impossi* 
 
20 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 ble to force him into anything more rapid than a shambling walk, 
 and at this slow pace was he proceeding, evidently to the great cha- 
 grin of the impatient traveller. 
 
 The costume of the horseman thus ill mounted consisted of a port 
 of jacket of white cotton stufF, with open calzoneros of olive-col- 
 oured velveteen. On his feet were short boots of goat skin — dress- 
 ed in imitation of cordovan leather — and covering his head was a 
 broad brimmed hat of common palmetto plait. Though not posi- 
 tively shabby, his garments had the appearance of having been a 
 long time in wear, out of regard to economy. There was something, 
 however, in their cut and texture that bespoke the wearer to belong 
 to a class above that of a mere peasant. 
 
 He was a young man — apparently two or three and twenty — of 
 slender figure and rather thin in flesh. His countenance bespoke 
 gentleness of disposition, amounting to simplicity , and this would 
 have been the impression produced upon an observer, but for a pair 
 of lively spiritual eyes that sparkled in sockets somewhat sunken. 
 These, combined with a well-formed mouth, and lips of a sarcastic 
 cut, relieved the otherwise too ingenuous expression of his features, 
 and proved that the young man was capable, when occasion required 
 of exhibiting a considerable power of repartee and acute observa- 
 tion. Just then the predominant expression upon his features 
 was that of chagrin, mixed with a certain degree of uneasiness. 
 
 The scenes through which he was passing were of a character to 
 cause apprehension — especially to one journeying alone. On all 
 sides extended a vast plain of sterile soil — the brown earth but thin- 
 ly covered with a growth of cactus and wild aloes, under the shad- 
 ow of which appeared a sparse herbage, wild, and of yellowish hue. 
 The aspect was monotonous and dreary beyond expression ; while 
 here and there vast clouds of dust rose in whirl-winds, and moved 
 like spectres over the plain. The straggling huts encountered at 
 long intervals on the way were all empty — apparently abiix'or.ed 
 by their owners! This strange circumstance combined wilh the 
 heat of a tropic sun, the absence of all signs of water, the profound 
 silence that reigned over these solitary steppes, had created a sense 
 of discouragement in the mind of the young traveller, i.me.Liiting 
 almost to fear. 
 
 Notwithstanding a liberal use of the spur, his horse could rot 1 e 
 induced to depart from a walk. If by a desperate effort he wis, 
 once or twice forced into a trot, it was only to return again to 
 his old gait as soon as the spur was taken from his flanks. The 
 painful exertions of the rider had no other result than to cause the 
 
AN ililvSGME JOURNEY. 2] 
 
 perspiration to flow profusely over his face, rendering it necessary 
 for him e\e.y now and then to make use of his pocket hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 ** Maldito cavallo!" (Good-for-nothing beast!) he exclaimed at 
 ntervals as his patience became exhausted ; bat the horse, fatigued 
 with a long journey, \n.s as insensible to the insults of his rider's 
 speech as he had been to the strokes of his spur, and moved not a 
 whit the faster. 
 
 Weaned with these idle efforts to increase the speed of the ani- 
 mal, the young traveller turned in his saddle and looked back. His 
 object was to compare the route he had" come with that which lay 
 before him — in order to form some calculation as to the distance yet 
 to be travelled before he could reach the other side of the desert 
 plain. 
 
 The observation did not appear to gratify him. On the contrary, 
 his countenance became eloucled with a still deeper shade of chagrin ; 
 and, abandoning himself to a complete despair, he made no further 
 attempt to urge forward his unwilling roadster, but left the sorry 
 brute to his creeping pace. 
 
 For several hours the traveller kept on his slow course — his 
 spirit alternately exasperated and depressed. 
 
 Mid day had arrived, and the tropic sun, glaring down vertically 
 from a cloudless sky, was causing a degree of heat almost intolera- 
 ble. The breeze had ceased to cool the atmosphere ; and even the 
 dry leaves of the trees hung motionless from the boughs. At every 
 moment the horse, crawling painfully forward, threatened to become 
 motionless as they. 
 
 Suffering from thirst, and wearied with the journey he had already 
 made, the young traveller at length dismounted, and threw his bri- 
 dle rein over the neck of his horse. He had no fear that the animal 
 would take advantage of the freedom thus given him. There was 
 not the slientest danger of its running away. 
 
 Leaving the steed to himself, therefore, the rider walked towards 
 a clump of nopals — in hopes of finding some fruit upon them, by 
 which he might relieve his thirst. 
 
 As good luck would have it, he was not deceived in this expecta- 
 tion. The nopals were in fruit. ; and having plucked a number of 
 these "Indian figs," and stripped them of their spinous skins, he 
 was enabled, by swallowing a quantity of the sweetish pulp, to al- 
 lay in some measure the excessive thirst that had been hitherto tor- 
 turing him. Thus satisfied, he once more mounted into his saddle, 
 and continued his interrupted journey. 
 
22 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AN ENIGMA. 
 
 After riding several miles farther, he arrived at a small village 
 situated in the same plain through which he had been journeying. 
 There, as all along the route, he found the houses deserted and 
 abandoned by their owners ! Not a soul was to be seen — no one 
 to offer him hospitality ; and as nothing could be found in the empty 
 houses — neither food to satisfy his hunger, nor water to quench his 
 thirst — the traveller was compelled to ride on without halting. 
 " Cosa estrana /" muttered he to himself, " what on earth can be 
 the meaning of tlws complete depopulation?^ 
 
 In addition to the desertion of the houses, another odd circum- 
 stance had struck his attention. Almost at e\ery hut which he 
 passed, he saw canoes and ^m'<r<7?w.s suspended from the branches 
 of the trees, and raised many feet above the ground ! In a part of 
 the country where there is neither lake nor river — not so much as 
 the tiniest stream — no wonder the sight astonished our traveller, 
 considering that he was a stranger to the district, and had not yet en- 
 countered a single individual who might explain the ludricrous 
 phenomenon. 
 
 Just as he was pondering over an explamation of these singular- 
 ities, a sound fell upon his ear, that produced within him a feeling 
 of joy. It was a hoof-stroke of a horse, breaking upon the pro- 
 found solitude. It came from behind him ; and betokened that 
 some horseman was approaching in his rear, though still invisible 
 on account of a turning in the road, which the young traveller had 
 just doubled. 
 
 In a few seconds' time the horseman appeared in sight ; and gal* 
 loping freely forward, soon came side by side with our traveller 
 
AX ENIGMA. 23 
 
 K Santos DiosF saluted the new-comer, at the same time raising 
 his hand to his hat. 
 
 " Santos Dios /" responded the young man, with a similar ges- 
 ture. 
 
 The meeting of two travellers in the midst of a profound solitude 
 is always an event, which leads to their regarding one another with 
 a certain degree of curiosity ; and such occurred in the present in- 
 stance. 
 
 lie who had just arrived was also a young man — apparently of 
 twenty-four or twenty-five years ; and this conformity of age was 
 the only point in which the two travellers resembled each other. 
 The new comer was somewhat above medium stature, with a figure 
 combining both elegance and strength. His features were regular 
 and well defined ; his eyes black and brilliant ; his moustache 
 thick and curving, and his complexion deeply embrowned with the 
 sun. All these circumstances tended to show that he was a man 
 of action ; while a certain air of energy and command bespoke 
 fierv passions, and the hot Arabian blood, which flows in the veins 
 of many Spanish-Mexican families. 
 
 His horse was a bay-brown, whose slender limbs and sinewy 
 form declared him also to be descended from an oriental race. The 
 ease with which his rider managed him, and his firm graceful seat 
 m the saddle, betokened a horseman of the first quality. 
 
 His costume was both costly and elegant. A Vest of unbleach- 
 ed cambric suited well the heat of the climate. His limbs were 
 covered with cahoneros of silk velvet of a bright purple colour ; 
 while boots of buff leather, armed with long glancing spurs, encased 
 his feet. A hat of vicuna cloth, with its trimmings of gold lace, 
 completed a costume half-military, half-civilian. To strengthen its 
 military character a rapier in a leathern sheath hung from his 
 waist-belt, and a carbine, suspended in front, rested against the pom- 
 mel of his saddle. 
 
 " Puez, amiyoP' 1 said the newly-arrived horseman, after a pause, 
 and glancing significantly at the hack of the. traveller. " May I 
 ask if you have far to go upon that horse?" 
 
 ; ' No, thank goodness!" replied the other; "only to the hacien- 
 da of San Salvador; winch, if I'm not mistaken, is scarce six 
 leagues distant." 
 
 ;; San Salvador 1 I think I've heard the name. Is it not near to 
 an estate called hacienda of Las Palmas '?'' 
 
 " Within two leagues of it. I believe." 
 
 " Ah ! then we are following the same route," said he * / 
 
THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 beasts of prey that ravage the flocks and herds of the great kaciendai 
 de ganado. or grazing estates. Among these predatory creatures 
 the jaguar is the most destructive ; and the hunting and slaying of 
 these animals is followed by many men — usually Indians or half- 
 breeds — as a regular profession. 
 
 As the jaguar {Felis onea) in all parts of Spanish America is er- 
 roneously called the tiger (tigre), so the hunter of this animal is 
 termed a tiger-hunter (tigrero). Many of the more extensive es- 
 tates keep one or more of these hunters in their pay ; and the In- 
 dian we have introduced to the reader was the tigrero of the ha- 
 (L-iida Del Valle. His name and nation were declared by himself 
 in the speech that followed — 
 
 "Ah!" he exclaimed with an a"r of savage exultation, "neither 
 tigers nor men may laugh with impunity at Costal, the Zapoteque. 
 As for these jaguars," he continued after a pause, " let them go for 
 this night. There will be nothing lost by waiting till to-morrow. 
 I can soon get upon their trail again ; and a jaguar whose haunt is 
 once known to me, is a dead animal. To-night we have other busi- 
 ness. There will be a new moon : and that is the time when, in 
 the foam of the cascade, and the surface of the solitary lake, the 
 Siren shows herself — the Siren of the dishevelled hair." 
 
 " The Siren t>f the dishevelled hair?" 
 
 " Yes ; she who points out to the gold-seeker the rich placers of 
 gold — to the diver the pearls that lie sparkling within their shells at 
 the bottom of the great ocean." 
 
 " But who has told you this ?" inquired Clara, with a look of in- 
 credulity. 
 
 " My fathers — the Zapoteques," replied Costal, in a solemn tone 
 of voice ; " and why should they not know 1 They have learnt 
 these things from Tlaloc and Matlacuezn — gods they were, as power- 
 ful as the Christ of the pale faces. AY hy " 
 
 " Don't speak so loud !" interrupted Clara, in a voice that 
 betokened alarm. "The priests of the Christians have their ears 
 everywhere. They might call it blasphemy ; and carrambo ! the 
 Inquisition has its dangers for blacks as well as whites ?" 
 
 On hearing the word Inquisition the Indian involuntarily lowered 
 his voice ; but continued speaking in a tone that his companion 
 could still hear him. 
 
 " My fathers," said he, " have told me that the Siren never 
 appears to any one who is alone. It is necessary that two be pres- 
 ent — two men of tried courage they must be — for the divinity is 
 ©ften wrathful at being invoked, an J at such times her anger is tei* 
 
AN ENIGMA. 2ft 
 
 fectlf tranquil. Like enough the people have abandoned their 
 dwellings to avoid fallirg into the hands of some party of insurgents 
 that may be scouring the country ?" 
 
 " Bah !" exclaimed the dragoon, with a contemptuous toss of his 
 head. " Poor devils like them are not in the habit of fleeing from 
 marauders. Besides, the country people have nothing to fear from 
 those who follow the banner of the insurrection. In any case, it 
 was not for sailing through these sandy plains that the canoes and 
 periaguaa have been hung up to the trees ? There's some other 
 cause, than the panic of the insurrection, that has breathed a spirit of 
 vertigo into the people here^ though, for the life of me, 1 can't 
 guess what it is." 
 
 For awhile the two travellers continued their jonruey in silence 
 —each absorbed in speculating upon the singular mystery that sur- 
 rounded them, and of w^h neither could give an explanation. 
 
20 THE TIGER-HUNTER, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE HUNGRY TRAVELLERS. 
 
 The dragoon was the first to resume the conversation. 
 
 " You, Senor Don Cornelio," said he, " you who have come 
 from Valladolid, perhaps you can give me some later news, than I 
 have received about the march of Hidalgo and his army ?" 
 
 " Not any, I fear," replied the student, " you forget, Senor, that, 
 thanks to the slow pace of my old horse, 1 have been two months on 
 the route ? When I left Valladolid, nobody had any more thought 
 of an insurrection than of a new deluge. All I know of it is what 1 
 have heard from public rumour — that is, so much as could be di- 
 vulged without fear of the Holy Inquisition. If, moreover, we are 
 to believe the mandate of the Lord Bishop of Oajaea, the insurrec« 
 tion will not find many surporters in his diocese." 
 
 "And for what reason?" asked the captain of dragoons, 
 with a certain hauteur, which proved, without committing himself to 
 any disclosure of his political opinions, that the insurgent cause 
 would not find an enemy in him. " What reason does the Bishop 
 assign V* 
 
 " What reason V* replied the student. " Simply because my Lord 
 Bishop Bergosa y Jordan will excommunicate them. He affirms, 
 moreover, that every insurgent will be recognisable by his horns and 
 cloven hoofs, which before long they will all have from the hands of 
 the Devil !" 
 
 Instead of smiling at the childish credulity of the young student, 
 the dragoon shook his head with an air of discontent, while the hairs 
 of his black moutachios curled with indignation. 
 
 "Yes," said he, as if speaking to himself, "thus is it that our 
 priests fight with the weapons of calumny and falsehood, preventing 
 
THE HUNGRY TRAVELLERS. 21 
 
 the minds of the Creoles with fanatical superstition ! So, Senor 
 
 Lantejas," he continued in a louder tone, addressing himself to liie 
 student, " you are afraid to enrol yourself in the ranks of the insur- 
 gents lest you might obtain these diabolical ornaments promised by 
 the bishop " 
 
 " Heaven preserve me from doing such a thing!" replied the 
 student. " Is it not an article of faith ? And who should know- 
 better than the respectable Lord Bishop of Oajaca? Besides," con- 
 tinued he, hastening his explanation, as he saw the angry flash of 
 his companion's eye, " I am altogether of a peaceable disposition, 
 aad about to enter into holy orders. Whatever party I might take, 
 it would be with prayer alone 1 should seek to make it triumph. 
 The Church has a horror of blood." 
 
 While the student was thus delivering himself, the dragoon re- 
 garded him with a side glance ; which seemed to say : that it mat- 
 tered little what side he might take, as neither would be much 
 benefitted by such a sorry champion. 
 
 " Is it for the purpose of passing your thesis that you have come 
 to Oajaca ?" 
 
 ' ; No," replied Lantejas, " my errand into this country is alto- 
 gether different. 1 am here in obedience to the commands of my 
 father, whose brother is the proprietor of the rich estate of San Sal 
 vador. 1 am to remind my uncle that he is a widower — rich — and 
 without children ; and that he has half-a-dozen nepkews to provide 
 for. That is my business at San Salvador. What can I do ? 
 My honoured father is more attached to the good things of this 
 life than is perhaps right ; and I have been obliged to make this 
 journey of two hundred leagues, for the purpose of sounding our 
 relative's disposition in regard to us." 
 
 " And ascertaining the value of his property as w^ell?" 
 
 " Olr*! as to that, we know exactly how much it is worth ; though 
 none of us has ever been on the estate." 
 
 This ar.swer of the young student did more honour to his heart 
 than to his discretion. 
 
 " Well," continued he, after a pause, " I may safely say, that 
 never did nephew present himself before an uncle in a more 
 famished condition than I shall do. Thanks to the inexplicable de- 
 sertion of all the houses and villages through which I have passed 
 — and the care which their owners have taken to carry with them 
 even the leanest chicken — there is not a jackal in the country hun- 
 grier than I at this minute." 
 
 The dragoon was in pretty much the same case. For two days 
 
28 TIIK TIGER HUNTER. 
 
 he had been travelling without seeing a soul, and though his horsfl 
 had picked up a little forage along the road, he had been unable to 
 obtain food for himself — other than such wild fruits and berries aa 
 he could gather by the way. 
 
 The sympathy for a like suffering at once dissipated any ill-blood 
 which the difference in their political sentiments might have stirred 
 up ; and harmony was restored between them. 
 
 The captain in his turn informed his new compagnon du voyage, 
 that, since the imprisonment of the Viceroy, lturrigaray, his own 
 father, a Spanish gentleman, had retired to his estate of Del Valle, 
 where he was now proceeding to join him. He was not acquainted 
 with this estate, having never been upon it since lie was a mere 
 child; but he knew that it was not far from the hacienda of Las 
 Palmas, already mentioned. Less communicative than Don Cor- 
 nelio, he did not inform the student of another motive for his jour- 
 ney, though there was one that interested him far more than revisit 
 ing the scenes of his childhood. 
 
 As the travellers rode on, the evanescent ardour of Don Cornelio's 
 roadster insensibly cooled down; while the student himself, 
 fatigued by the incessant application of whip and spur, gradually- 
 allowed to languish a conversation, that had enabled them to kill a 
 long hour of their monotonous journey. 
 
 The sun was now declining towards the western horizon, and the 
 shadows of the two horsemen were beaming elongated upon the 
 dusty road, while from the tops of the palm trees the red cardinals 
 and parroquets had commenced to chaunt their evening song. 
 
 Thirst — from which both the travellers suffered even more than 
 from hunger — was still increasing upon them; and at intervals the 
 dragoon captain cast a look of impatience toward the horse of his 
 companion. He could not help observing that the poor brute, for 
 the want of water, was every moment slackening his pace. 
 
 On his side, Don Corneho perceived, that, from a generous mo- 
 tive, his travelling companion was resisting the temptation to ride 
 forward. By putting his fine horse into a gallop, the latter could in 
 a short time reach the hacienda — now less than three leagues dis- 
 tant. Under the apprehension of losing his company, therefore, 
 the student redoubled his efforts to keep his old circus hack abreast 
 with the bay -brown of the dragoon. 
 
 The journey thus continued for half an hour longer ; when it be- 
 came evident to both travellers that the escapado of the bull-ring 
 was every moment growing more unable to proceed. 
 
 "Senor student," said the dragoon, after a long spell of silence, 
 
THE HUNGRY TRAVELLERS. 2*» 
 
 11 have you over real of those shipwrecks where the poor devils, to 
 avoid starvation, east lots to see which shall be eaten by the 
 others ?" 
 
 '•Alas! yes, ! have," answered Lantejas, with a slight trembling 
 in his speech ; " but I hope with us it will not come to that deplora- 
 ble extremity." 
 
 ^Carrambo!" rejoined th e dragoon with a grave air, "I feel 'at 
 this moment hungry enough to eat a relative — even if he were ri< h 
 and I his heir, as vou of your uncle, the kaciendado of San Salva- 
 dor !" 
 
 "But we are not at sea, Senor captain, and in a boat from which 
 there is no chance of esc 
 
 The dragoon fancied that he might amuse himself a little at the 
 expense of the young student of divinity — of whose excessive cre- 
 dulity he had already had proofs. Perhaps he meant also to re- 
 venge himself on this foolish credulity, upon which the fulmination 
 of the Bishop Bergosa — already celebrated throughout Mexico — had 
 made such an impression. II is chief motive, however, was to de- 
 monstrate to his travelling companion the necessity for their parting 
 company; in order, that, by riling forward himself he might be 
 able to send back succour to his fellow-traveller, He was no little 
 surprised, therefore, to perceive that his pleasantry was taken in 
 actually a serious light ; and therefore had determined to desist 
 from making any further inuendos. 
 
 " I hope, Senor captain," said Don Cornelio, " I hope neither of 
 us will ever be in such extremities." 
 
 Then casting a glance over the arid waste that stretched before 
 them, a new idea seemed to strike the student ; and with a haste 
 that bespoke his agitation he continued — 
 
 " As for me, if I were mounted on a horse equal in strength and 
 vigour to yours, J should gallop either to the hacienda of Las Pal- 
 mas, or San Salvador, without drawing bridle; and from there send 
 assistance to the fellow-traveller I had left behind." 
 
 "Ah! is that your advice ?" 
 
 " 1 could not think of giving any other." 
 
 " Good, then !" cried the dragoon; " I shall follow it ; for to be 
 candid. 1 felt a delicacy in pnrtlncr company with you." 
 
 As Don Rafael spoke, he held out his hand to the student. 
 
 "Senor Lantejas," said lv\ " we part friends. Let us hope we 
 may never meet as enemips ! Who can foresee the future'? ^ou 
 appear disposed to look with an evil eye on those attempts at eman- 
 cipation of a country, that has been enslaved three hundred years* 
 
?,0 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 As for myself, it is possible I may offer my arm — and, if »v,o<7 r,e, 
 my life — to aid her in conquering her liberty. Ilasta luego / I onall 
 n«>t forget to send you assistance." 
 
 Saying this, the officer clasped warmly the chill attenuated fingers 
 of the student of theology, gave the rein to his horse, that needed 
 no spur, and disappeared the moment after amidst a cloud of 
 
 "God be praised 1" said Lantejas, breathing freely ; " I do believe 
 the famished Lestrygon would have been quite capable of devour- 
 ing me ! As for my being found on a field of battle in front of this 
 Goliath, or any other, there's not much danger. I defy the devil 
 with all his horns to make a soldier of me, either for the insurrec- 
 tion or against it." 
 
 The student proceeded on his solitary route — congratulating him- 
 self on having escaped, from what his credulous fancy had believed 
 to be, a danger. 
 
 Sometime had passed, and the red clouds of sunset were tinting 
 the. horizon, when he saw before him the form of a man, whose gait 
 and complexion proved him to be an Indian. In hopes of obtaining 
 some provisions from this man, or, at all events, an explanation of 
 the singular circumstances already mentioned, the student urged his 
 ii >rse into a more rapid pace, heading him towards the Indian. 
 
 lie saw that the latter was driving two cows before him, whose 
 distended udders proved them to be milch cattle. This increased 
 the desire of the horseman, hungry and thirsty as he was, to join 
 company with the cowherd. 
 
 " Jlola ! Jose !" cried he, at tno top of his voice. 
 
 An Indian will always respond to the name Jose, as an Irishman 
 to that of Pal or Paddy. On hearing it, the cow-driver looked 
 round in alarm. At that moment the escapado of the bull-ring 
 caught sight of the two cows, and suddenly broke off into a gallop — ■ 
 unfortunately, however, in a direction the very opposite to that 
 which his rider desired him to take! 
 
 Notwithstanding this, the student still continued to shout to the 
 cowherd, in hopes of bringing him to comprehend his dilemma. 
 Hut the odd spectacle of a horseman calling to him to approach, 
 while he himself kept riding oil' in the opposite direction, so as 
 toundedthe Indian that, uttering aery of affright, he also took to his 
 heels, followed in a long shambling trot by the two cows ! 
 
 It was not until all three were out of sight, that the student could 
 prevail on his affrighted steed to return into the proper path. 
 
 "In the name of the Holy Virgin!" soliloquised he, "what has 
 
THE lirXGin t:: l\ ;;;.;. ;.;:.s. :>1 
 
 got into tb ■ peo] le of this country I Every one of them appears to 
 have gone mad !"' 
 
 And once i. sore setting hishorse to the road, he proceeded onward 
 — n»>\v, however, hungrier and more disconsolate than ever. 
 
 Just as night was coining down, he arrived at a place where two 
 or three small huts stood by the side of th \ road. These, like all 
 the others, he found, deserted. At sight of them, however, the old 
 horse came to a dead stop, and refused to proceed. His rider, 
 equally fatigued, resolved upon remaining by the huts, until the as- 
 sistance promised by the dragoon-captain should arrive. 
 
 In front of one of the huts stood two tall tarmarind trees — be- 
 tween which a hammock was suspended, at the height of seven or eight 
 feet from the ground. It was a capacious one, made of the strong 
 plaited thread of the maguey. It seemed to invite the wearied trav- 
 eller to repose — as if placed there on purpose for him. 
 
 As the heat was still suffocating, instead of entering one of the 
 huts, he unsaddled his horse, permitted the animal to go at will, and 
 by the trunk of one of the tamarinds climbed up into the hammock. 
 There, stretching himself, he lay a good while listening attentively, 
 in hopes of hearing some" sound that might announce the approach 
 of the promised succour. 
 
 It v. as now dark night. All nature had gone to sleep; and the 
 profound silence was unbroken by any sound that resembled the 
 tramp' of a horse. Nothing was heard to indicate the approach of 
 the expected relief. 
 
 As the student continued to listen, however, he became sensible 
 of sounds, of a singular and mysterious character. There was a con- 
 tinuous noise, like the rumbling of distant thunder, or the roaring 
 of the ocean during a storm. Although the air was calm around 
 him, he fancied he could hear a strong wind blowing at a distance, 
 mingled with hoarse bellowings of unearthly voices! 
 
 Affrighted by these inexplicable noises — which seemed the warning 
 voices of an approaching tempest — he lay for awhile awake : but fa- 
 tigue overcoming him, he sunk at length into a profound sleep. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 BLACK AND RED. 
 
 On that same evening, and about an hour before sunset, two mec 
 made their appearance on the hanks of a small river that traversed 
 the country not far from the group of huts where the traveller had 
 halted — at a point about half-way between them and the hacienda 
 
 Las Pal mas. 
 
 At the place where the two men appeared upon its hanks, the 
 river in question ran through the middle of a narrow valley ; 
 flowing so gently along, that its unrippled surface mirrored the blue 
 sky. At this place the water tilled its channel up to the level 
 of the banks, that were treeless, and covered with a sward of grass. 
 Farther down trees grew along the edge of the stream — tall oaks 
 and cotton woods, whose branehes were interlaced by flowering [lian- 
 as. Still farther down, the river entered between high banks of wild- 
 er appearance, and covered with yet more luxuriant vegetation. 
 From the grassy meadow in which the two men were standing, the 
 noise of a cataract, like the breaking of the sea upon a rocky beach, 
 was distinctly audible. 
 
 The complexion and costume of one of the men pronounced him 
 an Indian. The former was a copper-brown, the well-known colour 
 of the American aboriginal. His dress consisted of a coarse shirt 
 *)t grayish woolen stuff, rayed with black stripes. Its short sleeves, 
 rfcarce reaching to the elbows, permitted to be seen a pair of si 
 "dnewy arms of deepest bronze. It was confined round the 
 with a thick leathern belt, while its skirt hung down to mid-thigh, 
 ^elow this appeared the legs of a pair of trowsers, wide, but reach- 
 ing only to the knee. These were of tanned sheep-skin, and of a red- 
 dish brown hue. From the bottoms of the trousers, the legs and 
 
BLACK AND RED. 33 
 
 ankles of the Indian were naked ; while the chaussure consisted of 
 leathern buskins, also of a brownish red colour. A hat of rush 
 plaiting covered his head, from under which hung two long tresses 
 of black hair — one over each cheek — and reaching down to his 
 elbows. 
 
 He was a man of tall stature, and with a physiognomy remarka- 
 ble for one of his race. Instead of the servile aspect so character- 
 istic of the Indios mansos (subdued Indians) of Mexico, he had 
 more the air of the true savage, or Indio bravo. This appearance 
 was strengthened by the fact of his having a slight moustache and 
 beard — a rare distinction among the aborigines of Mexico. 
 
 (her his shoulder he carried a short, thick carbine, somewhat 
 rusty ; while a long machete (half sword, half knife), was stuck be- 
 hind his belt. 
 
 His companion was a negro, whose clothing consisted of little 
 else than rags. Otherwise there was nothing remarkable about him 
 — if we accept the air of stupefied credulity with which ho appear- 
 ed to be listening to the discourse of the Indian. From time to 
 time his features assumed an expression of iil-concealed fear. 
 
 The red man, closely followed by the black, was advancing along 
 the bank at a place destitute of timber, and where the ground was 
 smooth and soft. He was going slowly, his body bent slightly 
 forwards, and his eyes turned upon the earth as if in search of some 
 object, or tracking an animal. Suddenly he came to a stop — 
 
 '" Now !" he exclaimed, turning to the negro, and pointing to the 
 ground, " [ told you I should find their traces in less than half an 
 hour. Look there !" 
 
 The Indian spoke in a tone of triumph; but the feeling was far 
 from being shared by his companion, who bent his eyes upon the 
 earth rather with a look of dismay. The sight was sufficient to 
 hive caused uneasiness to any one other than a hunter of wild 
 beasts. In the soft mud was exhibited a number of tracks — twenty 
 of them in all. They were of different sizes, too; and appeared to 
 have been recently made. The marks of sharp claws, distinctly 
 outlined in the clayey soil, told what kind of animal had made the 
 tracks. It was the fierce jaguar — the tiger {tig re) of the Spanish 
 Americans. 
 
 " It's not half an hour since they have been here," continued the 
 Indian. " Mira!" exclaimed he, pointing to a little eddy on the 
 edge of the stream, " they have been drinking there not ten min- 
 utes ago : the water is vet muddy !" 
 
 "Let us get away,"' suggested the negro, whose black face was 
 
34 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 now pale with fear. " I sec no use in you remaining here. See ! 
 there are many tracks, and of different sizes, too. Lord bless me ! 
 a whole procession of tigers must have passed here." 
 
 " Oh, you are exaggerating," rejoined the Indian, with a sneering 
 laugh. " Let us count them," he continued, bending down over the 
 fout-prints, " one — two — three — four : a male, a female, and two 
 cachorrps (cubs). That is all. Carrambo! what a sight for a 
 tigrero (tiger-hunter)." 
 
 " Ah! indeed !"' assented the negro, in a hesitating way. 
 
 " Yes," rejoined the other; " but we shan't go after them to-day. 
 We have more important business on our hands."' 
 
 " Would it not be bettor to defer the business you wore speaking 
 of till to-morrow, and now return to the hacienda? However 
 curious I am to see the wonderful things you promised, still " 
 
 "What!" exclaimed the Indian, interrupting his companion's 
 speech, "defer that business till another day] impossible. The 
 opportunity would not come round for another month, and then wo 
 shall be far from this place. No, no, Clara," eon tinned he," ad- 
 dressing the black by this very odd cognomen, "no, no; we must 
 about it to-day and at this very moment. Sit down, then." 
 
 Suiting the action to the word, the Indian squatted himself on the 
 grass: and the negro, willing, or unwilling was forced to follow his 
 example. 
 
CHAPTER VL 
 
 V H E TIGER-HUNTER, 
 
 Notwitiistanwmm* the change of attitude, the negro still continued 
 the victim of his /ears. Instead of paying proper attention to 
 what his companion was saying, his eyes wandered abroad, search- 
 ing the horizon on every side of him, as if at every moment he expect- 
 ed to see the jaguars returning to attack them. 
 
 Noticing his uneasiness, the Indian made an attempt to reassure 
 him. 
 
 (i You have nothing to fear, comrade," said he. " The tigers have 
 the whole river to drink out of; and it is not likely they will come 
 Lack here." 
 
 "They maybe hungry," rejoined Clara, " and 1 have heard say 
 that they prefer a black man, like me, to either a* white or an 
 Indian." 
 
 " Ha, ha !" laughed his companion. " You need not flatter your- 
 self on that score. Bah, man ! there's not a tiger in all the State 
 that would be fool enough to prefer a carcass tough and black as 
 yours, to the flesh of a young cult or heifer, either of which they can 
 have at any time. Ha, ha! If the jaguars only heard what you've 
 said, they would shake their sides witn laughter."' 
 
 I he fearlessness exhibited by the Inaian himself in regard to the 
 jaguars is easily explained, since it was by the destruction of these 
 fierce animals that he had got his living. His calling was a peculiar 
 one, Ihough common enough throughout the tropical regions of 
 America. He was. in fact, a tigrero, or riger-hunter, a class of men 
 whose sole occupation consist in pursuing, u Tontronce, the different 
 
36 _ . the tig::imiunieii. 
 
 beasts of prey that ravag i the flocks and Lords of the great hacienda* 
 de ganada, or grazing estates. Among these predatory creatures 
 the jaguar is the rn>st destructive j and the hunting and slaying of 
 these animals i » followed by many men — usually Indians or half- 
 breeds — as a regular profession. 
 
 As the jaguar {Fells o:tca) in all paits of South America is er- 
 roneously called the tiger (tlgre), so the hunter cf this animal is 
 termed a tiger-hunter (tlgrcrd). Many of tin more extensive es- 
 tates keep one or more of these hunters in their pay; and the In- 
 dian we have introduced to the reader was the tlgrero cf the ha- 
 cienda Del Valle. His name and nation were declared by himseli 
 in the speech that fo lowed — 
 
 " Ah!" he exclaimed with an air of savage exultation, 'neiih r 
 tigers nor men may laugh with impunity at Costal, the Zapotcque. 
 As for these jaguars,'* he con inued after a pause, "let them go for 
 this night. There will be nothing lost by waiting till to-morrow. 
 I can soon get upon their trail again j and a jaguar whose haunt is 
 once known to me is a dead animal. To-night we have other busi- 
 ness. There will be a new moon: and this is the time when, in 
 the foam of the cascade, and t!:c surface of the solitary lake, the 
 Siren shows herself — the Siren rf the dishevelled hair." 
 
 « The Siren of the dishevelled hair V 
 
 "Yes ; she -who points out to the gold-8« eker the rich placers of 
 gold — to the diver the pearls that lie sparking within Ihejr shells at 
 the bottom cf the great ocean." 
 
 "But who has told you siiis?" inquired Clara, with a look ofin- 
 crcdalay. 
 
 "My lathers — the Z ipoi<>que j ." replied Costal, in a Folemn tone 
 of voice; ''and why should '' '.' not know? They have learnt 
 these things from Tialoc and Mal.acu zn— gods they were, as power- 
 ful as the Christ of the pale faces. Why " 
 
 "Don't speak so loud!'! interrupted Clara, in a voiee that 
 betokened alarm. "The priests ot the Christians have iheir ears 
 everywhere. They might call it blasphemy ; and carrambo ! the 
 Inquisi ion has its dangers for blacks as well as whites?" 
 
 On hearing the word Inquisit on the Indian involuntarily lowered 
 his voice; but continued speaking in a tone that his companion 
 could still hear him. 
 
 "My fathers," said he. "hu\e told me that the Siren never 
 appears to any one who is alone. It is necessary that two be pres- 
 ent — two men of tried courage they must, be — for the divinity is 
 often wrathful at being invoked, and at such times her anger is ter- 
 
TIGER-IIUxNTEIl. 
 
 rfble. As two men are required, I need another besides myslf. Will 
 you then be my companion ?" 
 
 '• Hum?'' said Clara. "I may boast that I am not afraid of a 
 man ; though I confess I cannot say the same about a tiger. As to 
 your Siren, that appears to be the very devil " 
 
 "Man, tiger, or devil," cried Costal, "why fear any of the three? 
 What need one care for them — one who has a stout heart — especial 
 ]v when the reward of his courage is gold, and enough of it to make 
 a grand lord out of a poor Indian V 
 
 " And of a negro as well ?" 
 
 " Without doubt." 
 
 " Say, rather," rejoined Clara, with an air of discouragement, 
 4 *that gold could serve neither one nor the other. Black and Indi- 
 an, both are slaves, and our masters would soon take it from us." 
 
 " True enough what you say ; but let me tell you, Clara, that the 
 bondage of the Indian is approaching its end. Have you not heard 
 that up in the north — in the tierra adentro — a priest has proclaimed 
 the emancipation of all races, and equal liberty for all ?" 
 
 "No," replied the negro, betraying his total ignorance of the po- 
 litical affairs of the country, " I have heard nothing about it." 
 
 " Know then that the day is at hand when the Indian will be on 
 an equality with the white, and the Creole with the Spaniard ; and 
 when an Indian, such as I, will be the master of both !" 
 
 The descendant of the Zapoteques delivered this speech with an 
 air of proud exultation. 
 
 " Yes," continued he, " the day of our ancient splendour will 
 soon return. That is why 1 am desirous at present of acquiring 
 gold. Hitherto I have not troubled myself about finding it, since, 
 as you say, it would soon be wrested from the hands of a poor slave. 
 Now that I am to be free, the circumstances are changed ; and I 
 want gold, by which 1 may revive the glories of my ancestors." 
 
 Clara could not help casting a look of astonishment at his com- 
 panion. The air of savage grandeur, visible in the countenance of 
 the tiger-hunter — vassal of the hacienda Las Palmas — surprised 
 him, as did also the pretentious manner in which he spoke about re- 
 viving the ancient splendours of his race. 
 
 The look and its meaning did not escape the observation of the 
 Indian. 
 
 " Friend Clara," said he, in a confidential tone, " listen to me, 
 while I reveal to you a secret which I have kept for many long 
 years— long enough for me to have seen fifty dry seasons, and fifty 
 
38 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 seasons of rain ; and this fact can be confirmed to you by all of my 
 colour and race." 
 
 " You have seen fifty seasons of rain ?" cried the negro, in a tone 
 of astonishment, at the same time regarding his companion atten- 
 tively, who in truth did not appear to be over thirty years of age. 
 •' Fifty seasons of rain ?" 
 
 " Well, not quite fifty," replied Costal, with a smile, "but very 
 near it." 
 
 " Ah ! I shall see fifty more/' continued he. " Omens have told 
 me that I shall live as long as the ravens." 
 
 The negro remained silent, still held in surprise by the wild de 
 clarations which his companion was volunteering to make to him. 
 
 "Listen, friend Clara !" continued the tiger-hunter, extending his 
 arm in a circle, and designating the four points of the compass ; " in 
 all the space that a horseman could traverse between sun-rise an<l 
 sun-set — from north to south — from east to west — there is not j 
 spot of ground that was not once possessed by my ancestors — the 
 ancient lords of Zapoteca. Before the vessels of the white men 
 touched upon our coasts, they were sovereign masters of all this land 
 — from ocean to ocean. The sea alone was their boundary. Thou 
 sands of warriors followed their banners, and crowded around tlair 
 plume-bedecked standards of war. In the ocean the pearl-banks, 
 and in the land the placers of gold belonged to them. The yellow 
 metal glanced upon their dresses and armour, or ornamented the 
 very sandals upon their feet. They j>osscssed it in such abundance, 
 they scarce knew what to do with it. 
 
 "Where now are the once powerful Cacinues of Tchuantepcc ! 
 Most of their subjects have been slaughtered by the thunder of the 
 white men, or buried in the dark mines — while the conquerors have 
 divided among them and made slaves of the survivors ! An hun- 
 dred needy adventurers have been transformed into grand magnates 
 — each endowed with a portion of the conquered territory ; and at 
 this moment the last descendant of the Caciques is forced to earn 
 his subsistence almost as a slave — to submit to the tyranny of a 
 white master — to expose his life daily for the destruction of fierce 
 beasts, lest they should ravage the flocks and herds of his thankless 
 employer ; while, of the vast plains over which he is compelled to 
 pursue his perilous calling, there remains to him not a spot he can 
 call his own — not even the ground occupied by his miserable hut." 
 
 The speaker might have £one on much longer without fear of hia 
 hearer interrupting him. The latter was held mute with astonish- 
 
THE TIGER HUNTER. 39 
 
 menu, as well as "by a kind of involuntary respect with which the 
 words of his companion had inspired him. In all probability the 
 negro had never before heard that a powerful and civilised people 
 existed in that country previous to the arrival of the Spaniards. At 
 all events he had never suspected that the man who was thus enlight- 
 ening him — the half-Pagan, half-Christian tiger-hunter — was the de- 
 scendant of the ancient masters of Tehuantepec. 
 
 As for Costal himself, after making these statements of the form-I 
 er splendours of his family — in which, notwithstanding his pompous 
 mode of declaring them, there was much truth — he lapsed into a 
 profound silence; and, his face turned with a melancholy expression 
 upon the ground, he took no notice of the effect produced on the 
 mind of his black companion. 
 
CHAPTER vii. 
 
 TnE CHASE OF THE JAGUAR. 
 
 The sun was gradually inclining towards the horizon, when a \ ro. 
 longed howl, shrill at first, but ending in a hoarse roar, fell upon the 
 ears of the two adventurers. It appeared to come from a brake 
 some distance down the river; hut, near or distant, it at once 
 changed the expression upon the countenance of the negro. Fear 
 took the place of astonishment; and, on hearing the sound, lie 
 sprang suddenly to his feet. 
 
 "Jesus Maria!" exclaimed he, "it is the jaguar again !" 
 
 "Well, what if it be?" said Costal, who had neither risen, nor 
 made the slightest gesture. 
 
 "The jaguar!" repeated the negro in his ^error. 
 
 " The jaguar 1 You are mistaken," said Costal. 
 
 " God grant that I may be," rejoined the black, beginning to 
 hope that the sounds had deceived him. 
 
 " You are mistaken as to the number," coolly proceeded Costal. 
 " There is not one jaguar, but four — if you include the cachorros" 
 
 Perceiving the sense in which Costal meant he was mistaken, the 
 negro, with terror gleaming in his eyes, appeared as if about to 
 start off towards the hacienda. 
 
 " Take care what you do !" said the Indian, apparently inclined 
 to amuse himself with the fears of his companion. " It is quite 
 true, I believe, that these animals are very fond of black men's 
 flesh." 
 
 " Carrambo ! just now r you told me the contrary V 
 
 " Well, perhaps I am mistaken upon that point ; but one thing I 
 know well — for I have proved it a hundred times — that is, that a 
 
THE CHASE OF TIFS JAGUAR. 41 
 
 brace of tigers, when the male and female are together, seldom roai 
 in that fashion — especially if they suspect the presence of a human 
 being. It is more likely, therefore, that at this moment they are 
 separated : and by going towards the hacienda, you might risk get 
 ting between the two." 
 
 " Heaven preserve me from getting into such a scrape !" mut 
 tercel the negro. 
 
 "Well, then; the best thing you can do is to stay where you 
 are — beside a man who don't care a claco for the jaguars." 
 
 The negro hesitated, not quite certain that it would be the best 
 thing for him. At that moment, however, a second howl, coming 
 in a direction entirely opposite to the first, decided his uncertainty, 
 and convinced him that the tigrero had spoken the truth. 
 
 "You see,'" said Costal, "the brutes are in search of somethiig 
 to eat. That's why they are calling to one another. Well, now ! 
 if you're still in the mind, off with you to the hacienda !" 
 
 This was of course meant as a taunt ; for the negro, who now 
 perceived that there was a jaguar howling in the way that lead to 
 the hacienda, had given up all notion of proceeding in that direc- 
 tion. On the contrary, while his black lace turned of an ashen- 
 grey colour, he drew closer to his imperturbable companion — who 
 had not even attempted to take hold of the carbine which lay on 
 the grass by his side ! 
 
 " Bah !" muttered Costal, speaking to himself, " this comrade of 
 mine is scarce brave enough fur my purpose. I must defer it, 
 till I meet with some one possessed of more courage." Then re- 
 suming the current of jiis thoughts, which had been interrupted by 
 the howling of the jaguars, he said aloud — " Where is the red man, 
 where the black, who would not lift his arm to aid this brave 
 priest ? — he who has risen against the oppressor — the oppressor of 
 all — Zapoteques, Creoles, and Aztecs. Have these Spaniards not 
 been more ferocious than even the tigers themselves ?" 
 
 " \ should not fear them, at any rate," interposed Clara. 
 
 A Good ! I'm glad you talk that way, comrade. To-morrow let 
 us give warning to our master, Don Mariano de Silva. He must 
 find another tigrero ; and we shall go and join the insurgents in the 
 west." 
 
 The Indian had scarce finished his speech, when another howl 
 came from the jaguars, as if to put the patience of the tiger-hunter 
 to the test. It was even more spitefully prolonged, coming in the 
 direction in which the first had been heard — that is, from a point 
 upon the river a little above where the two men were seated. 
 
PI THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Oa hearing it, thus uttered as a signal of defiance, the eyes of 
 the ttgrero began to sparkle with an irresistible desire for the chase. 
 
 "By the souls of the Caciques of Tehuantepec !" exclaimed he, 
 "this is too much for human patience. J shall ieieh these two 
 braggarts not to talk so loud of their affairs. Now, Clara !" con- 
 tinued he, springing to his feet, "you shall have the opportunity 
 of becoming acquainted with a jaguar at closer quarters than you 
 have hitherto been." 
 
 " Carramho /" exclaimed the black, " why should I go near them? 
 I have no weapon, and would be of no use to you 1" 
 
 " Hear me, Clara !" said the Indian, without replying to the 
 speech of his comrade. " The one that howled last is the male. He 
 was calling to the female, his mate. He is a good distance from 
 here, up stream. We must go up to him ; and as there's not a 
 stream on all the estate, where I havn't either a canoe or per iagua, 
 for the purposes of my calling " 
 
 " You have one here, then ?" interrupted Clara. 
 
 " Certainly I have. We can go up the river; and in the canoa 
 you will not be in the slightest danger. I have my own notions of 
 how 1 may best approach this noisy brute." 
 
 " But the jaguars can swim like seals, I have heard?" 
 
 " I don't deny it. Never mind that; come -on !" 
 
 Without deigning further speech, the tigrero started forward ; 
 and going cautiously, approached that part of the bank where his 
 canoa was moored. 
 
 Clara seeing that it would be perhaps less dangerous to accom- 
 pany him than remain where he was alone, reluctantly followed. 
 
 \i\ a few minutes they arrived at the place where the canoe was 
 fastened to the bank ; a rude craft just large enough to carry two 
 men. A paddle lay at the bottom ; along with a piece of matting 
 of plaited palm-leaf, which on occasions was called into requisition 
 as a sail. But Costal threw out the matting, as there was no like- 
 lihood of its being required upon the present occasion. 
 
 Having loosed the cord by which the canoe was attached to the 
 branch of a wallow, the Indian leaped aboard, and seated himself 
 near the stem. The negro took his place abaft. A vigorous push 
 was given against the bank, the little craft shot out into the middle 
 of the stream, and, impelled by the paddle, commenced ascending 
 the current. 
 
 The sun was still shining on the river, but with his last lays-, 
 and the willows and alemos that grew along the bank threw their 
 trembling shadows far over the water. The breeze of the deserl 
 
THE CHASE OF THE JAGUAR 43 
 
 sighed among their leaves, bearing upon its wings sweet pefumes 
 stolen from a thousand flowers. It seemed the intoxicating in- 
 cense of liberty. 
 
 Costal, an Indian and a hunter, inhaled it with an instinctive de- 
 light. Clara was altogether insensible to the sweetness of tlK» 
 scene ; and his anxious countenance offered as great a contrast to the 
 calm unmoved features of his companion, as the black shadows of 
 the trees thrown upon the water with the brilliant hues of the sky. 
 
 The canoe for a time kept close along the bank, and followed 
 the windings of the stream Here and there the bushes hung over ; 
 and in passing such places Clara kept a sharp look-out, in dread of 
 seeing a pair of fiery orbs glancing upon him through the leaves. 
 
 " Par Dios /" cried he, every time the canoe approached too 
 closely to the bank, " keep her farther off, friend Costal. Who 
 knows but that the jaguars may be up there, ready to spring down 
 upon us ?" 
 
 " Possible enough," rejoined Costal, vigorously plying his paddle ; 
 and without giving any further thought to the appeals of his com- 
 panion. " Possible enough ; but I have my idea " 
 
 " What is it ?" asked Clara, interrupting him. 
 
 " A very simple one, and one which I have no doubt you will ap- 
 prove of." 
 
 " Let us hear it first." 
 
 " Well, then ; there are two jaguars, without speaking of the 
 brace of cachorros. These I shall leave to you, since you have no 
 weapon. Your plan will be this : take up one of the whelps in 
 each hand, and break in their skulls, by striking them one against 
 the other. Nothing can be more simple." 
 
 " On the contrary, friend Costal, it appears to me very complica- 
 ted. Besides, how can I lay hold upon them if they should run 
 away ?" 
 
 " Very likely they will save you that trouble by laying hold on 
 you. Never fear your getting close enough. If I'm not mistaken, 
 we shall have all four of them within arm's length in less then a 
 quarter of an hour." 
 
 " All four !" exclaimed the negro, with a start that caused the 
 canoe to oscillate as if it would upset. 
 
 ' ; Beyond doubt," rejoined Costal, making an effort to counterbal- 
 ance the shock which the frail bark had received. " It is the only 
 plan by which we can bring the chase to a speedy termination ; and 
 when one is pressed for time, one must do his best. J was going to 
 tell you, when you interrupted me, that there are two jaguars — one on 
 
44 THE TIGER-HUNTE.l. 
 
 the right bank, the other on the left — the male and female, be;Ct"d 
 doubt. Now by their cries I can tell that these animals are cbs.nr- 
 ous of joining one another ; and if we place ourselves between ths 
 two, it is evident they will both come upon us at once. What eaj 
 you ? 1 defy you to prove the contrary V 
 
 Clara made no reply to the challenge. His profound belief in fjia 
 ijifalibility of his companion's perceptions kept him silent. 
 
 " Look out now, Clara !" continued the hunter, " we are goirj; o 
 double that bend in the river where the bushes hide ihe plain :rom 
 our view. Your face will be turned the right way. Tell me, then, 
 what you see." 
 
 From his position in the canoe, Costal, who plied the paddle, was 
 seated with his back to the open ground towards which they were 
 advancing; and he could only see in front by turning his head, 
 which from time to time he had been doing. But he needed not 
 to look around very often. The countenance of the negro who was 
 face to face with him, resembled a faithful mirror, in which he could 
 read whatever might be passing behind him. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A GRAND SPECTACLE. 
 
 Hitherto the features of Clara had expressed nothing more than 
 a kind of vague fear ; but at the moment when the canoe rounded 
 the last turn in the river, a sudden terror became depicted upon 
 them. The hunter thus warned quickly faced round. An immense 
 plain came before his eye, that seemed to stretch to the verge of 
 the horizon. Through this ran the river, its waters almost on a 
 level with the banks — which' were covered with a grassy sward, 
 .and without a single tree. At some distance from the curve the 
 stream almost doubled back on itself — forming a verdant delta, 
 around the apex of which ran the road that led to the hacienda Las 
 Pal mas. 
 
 The rays of the setting sun were flooding the plain with a trans- 
 parent golden haze, which hung over the empurpled bosom of the 
 water on which the canoe was floating. Just above, in the middle 
 of the current, and scarce two shots distant from where the two 
 men were, a sight appeared to the ravished eyes of the tiger-hunter 
 that caused him at once to change his position in the boat. 
 
 u MiraV exclaimed he in a half-whisper. '* Look, Clara ! Did 
 you over behold a more beautiful sight?" 
 
 Yv'ith his claws stuck into the floating carcass of a colt upon 
 which he was feeding, an enormous jaguar was suffering himself to 
 float gently down the- stream. It was the male one, the same from 
 which the last how'ings had proceeded. 
 
 With his head outstretched and curving over his fore paws, his 
 hind leers drawn under his belly, his back highly arched, and his 
 flanks quivering with a supple undulation that betokened activity 
 and power, was seen tho roy.il beast of ihs American jingle. The 
 
40 THE TIGER-HUNTES. 
 
 dying rays of the sun falling upon his glossy skin displayed his 
 splendid coat of bright yellow ocellated with spots of the deepest 
 Llack. 
 
 It was one of those beautiful savage spectacles often exhibited to 
 the eyes of the Indian hunter — a magnificent episode in that eternal 
 poem which the wilderness is constantly repeating. 
 
 Scarce taking time to gaze upon it, Costal passed the paddle to 
 his companion ; and, gun in hand, crouched down in the bottom of 
 the canoe. 
 
 Clara accepted the oar, and half mechanically commenced row- 
 ing, lie had made no reply to the enthusiastic interrogatory of 
 the hunter Fear held him speechless. 
 
 At that moment a growl, resembling the deepest tones of an 
 ophiclcide, resounded from the throat of the jaguar, rolling over the 
 surface of the water to the ears of the men seated in the canoe, 
 lie had seen his enemies, and this was his signal of defiance. 
 
 The Indian replied by a cry somewhat similar, as the bloodhound 
 utters his wild bay on seeing his victim before him. 
 
 " It's the male ! ; ' said Costal, apparently pleased that it was so. 
 
 "Fire, then !" cried Clara, at last finding his tongue. 
 
 " Fire, Carrambo! no. My gun does not carry so far. Besides, 
 I shoot best when my game is nearer the muzzle. I wonder," con- 
 tinued he, looking up to the bank, " that the female has not found 
 him ! No doubt, if we wait a little, we'll see her coming bounding 
 up with the cachorros at her heels." 
 
 " Dios nos compare /" (God preserve us !) muttered the negro in 
 a melancholy tone; for he feared that Costal would still insist up- 
 on carrying out the plan he had proposed. " God preserve us ! I 
 hope not : one at a time is sufficient." 
 
 The. words were scarce out of the negro's mouth, when a sharp 
 screech, heard at some distance, proclaimed the coming of the oth- 
 er jaguar ; and the moment after she was seen bounding over the 
 savanna, with a rapidity and gracefulness superb beyond admira- 
 tion. 
 
 At the distance of about two hundred yards from the bank, as 
 also from the canoe, she came to a sudden stop ; and with muzzle 
 raised aloft, scenting the air, and flanks quivering like an arrow af. 
 ter striking its mark, she remained for some moments fixed to the 
 spot. Meanwhile the two whelps, that had been left in the covert 
 of the bushes, were seen hastening to join her. The canoe, no lon- 
 ger propelled by the paddle, began to spin round with the ripple, 
 keeping about the same distance between it and the ti^er crouched 
 on the floating carcass. 
 
A GRAND SPECTACLE. 4* 
 
 '* For Heaven's sake, Clara," said Costal impatiently, " keep the 
 boat's head to the current, or 1 shall never get close enough to fire. 
 There now — that is right — keep a steady hand — mine never shakes. 
 It is important 1 should kill this jaguar at the first shot. If not, 
 one of us is lost to a certainty. Perhaps both ; for if 1 miss we 
 shall have both the brutes to contend with, to say nothing of the 
 brace of whelps." 
 
 All this*while the jaguar was quietly descending the stream upon 
 his Heating pedestal, and the distance between him and the canoe 
 was gradually diminishing. Already could be seen his fiery eye- 
 balls rolling in their sockets, and the quick oscillations of his tail, 
 expressive of his gathering rage. 
 
 The hunter had taken aim, and was about to pull trigger, when 
 che canoe commenced rocking about, as if tossed upon a stormy 
 sea ! 
 
 " What the devil are you about, Clara V inquired the Indian in 
 an angry tone. " If you move in that way I could not hit one in a 
 whole crowd of tigers." 
 
 Whether it was through design, or that fear was troubling his 
 senses, and causing him to shift about, Clara, instead of keeping 
 quiet, seemed to shake all the more. 
 
 "A thousand devils take you !"' cried Costal, with increased rage. 
 " Just then I had him between the eyes." 
 
 Laying down his gun, the hunter snatched the paddle from the 
 hands of the black, and set about turning the canoe in its proper 
 position. 
 
 This proved a work of some little time ; and before Costal could 
 succeed in accomplishing his purpose, the tiger had taken to flight. 
 Giving utterance to a loud scream, the animal buried his sharp 
 teeth in the carcass, tore from it a large mouthful, and then making 
 a desperate bound passed from the floating body to the bank. In 
 another moment he had rejoined his mate with her young ones, and 
 all were soon beyond the range of the hunter's carbine. The two 
 terrible creatures appeared to hesitate as to whether they should 
 return to the attack, or retreat. Then giving a simultaneous scream, 
 both stretched off at full gallop across the plain, followed by their 
 cackorros. The disappointed hunter looked after them, giving utter- 
 ance to a fierce exclamation expressive of his disappointment. Then 
 seating himself in the stern of the canoe, he turned its head down 
 stream, and put forth all his strength to regain the point from 
 which thev had set out. 
 
4i TU£ TIG Eli- II UN TEU. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE CASCADE. 
 
 The canoe carrying the two men continued slowly to descend the 
 course of the river — the negro felicitating himself on his escape 
 from the claws of the jaguars; while the thoughts of the Indian 
 were dwelling with regret upon his want of success. 
 
 Clara, however, did not enjoy an unalloyed satisfaction. The 
 jaguars had fled, it was true, but in what direction? It was evident 
 they had gone down stream, and might be encountered below. 
 
 This thought troubling Clara, he inquired of his companion if 
 there was any probability of their agaiu falling in with this danger- 
 ous enemy. 
 
 "Probable enough," responded Costal, "and more than probable. 
 If we descend below the cascade, we shall be almost certain of see- 
 ing the jaguars there. The carcass of a fine young colt is not to 
 be met with every day; and these brutes can reason like a man. 
 They know well enough that the current will carry the floating 
 body over the fall, and that, below, it will be rendered up to them 
 again. I do not say it will then be whole : for I have seen the 
 trunks of great trees broken into fragments from being carried over 
 that very cascade.'' 
 
 "Then you really think the jaguars may be waiting below 1 
 
 "No doubt but they will be there. If I don't mistake, you shall 
 hear their roar before ten minutes have passed, and it will come 
 from the bottom of the cascade, just where our business is now tak- 
 ing us." 
 
THE CASCADE. 49 
 
 "But they may feel inclined to take revenge on us for having 
 driven them from the carcass?" 
 
 ''And if they should, what care I? Not a straw. Vamos ! 
 friend Clara, we've given too much thought to these animals. Fortu- 
 nately we have not lost much ; and now to our affair. The young 
 moon wiil be up in a trice, and 1 must invoke Tlaloc, the god of 
 the waters, to bestow some gold on the Caciques of Tehauntepec." 
 
 The two men had by this time arrived at the place from which 
 the canoe had been taken; and here both disembarked, Costal care- 
 fully refastening the craft to the trunk of a willow. Then leaving 
 his companion, he walked off down the bank alone. 
 
 "Do not go far away !" said Clara, entreatingly, still troubled 
 with the fear of the jaguars. 
 
 "Bah!" exclaimed Costal, "I leave my gun with you!'' 
 
 " Oh, indeed !"' murmured the negro ; " what signifies that? one 
 bullet for four tigers !" 
 
 Without vouchsafing any reply to this last speech, the Indian ad- 
 vanced a little farther along the bank, and then came to a pause. A 
 large tree grew upon the edge of the stream, its branches extending 
 outwards. Into this he climbed; and then stretching out his arms 
 over the water, he commenced chaunting a lugubrious measure — a 
 species of Indian invocation, of which Clara could hear the words, 
 but without in the least comprehending their signification. 
 
 There was something in the wild melody of the Indian's voice to 
 cause his companion a certain mysterious dread ; and t:,is was in- 
 creased by additional notes of an equally mournful character that 
 came pealing up the ravine, mingling with the hoarse roar of the 
 cascade. It was the scream of the jaguar; though it actually ap- 
 peared as if some demon was answering to the invocations of the 
 Indian. The lugubrious chaunt of the pagan, and the coincident 
 scream of the ti ;«r, formed a kind of infernal accompaniment, well 
 calculated to strike awe into the mind of one of Clara's supersti- 
 tious race ; and as hi stood upon the bank he fancied he saw fiery 
 eyes glaring upon him through the leaves, and the Siren with the 
 dishevelled hair rising above the surface of the water. 
 
 A double chill passed through his black skm, from the soles of 
 his feet to the roots of his kinky Lair. 
 
 At this moment Costal retu ned to him. 
 
 "Are you ready?" inquired the Indian. 
 
 "For what?" 
 
 "To accompany me to the cascade — there to invoke the Siren, 
 and ask if she may be seen," 
 
50 THE TIGER-IIUXTER. 
 
 " What ! down there, where the tigers are roaring .'" 
 
 " Oh, a fig tor them ! Remember, Clara, it is gold we sec I; ; r.nd, 
 believe me, if fortunate in our application, the Siren will tell i.s 
 where it is to be found. Gold in masses!" 
 
 " Enough I" cried Clara, overcome by the rich prospect. " I am 
 with you," continued he — " lead on ! From this hour 1 am the 
 slave of the Siren w ho can show us the placers of gold !" 
 
 The Indian took up his hat and carbine, both of which lie had 
 laid aside \\ hen chaunting his invocation; and, throwing the gun 
 over his shoulder, started down stream. Clara followed «■!• 
 his heels — his spirit alternately possessed with cupidity and I 
 
 As they advanced, the banks rose higher above the surface of th« 
 stream, and the channel became the bottom of a deep, narrow rav- 
 ine, where the water rushed foaming among rocks. The great trees 
 growing on each side stretched towards one another, until their 
 branches interlocked, forming a dark sombre tunnel underneath. At 
 the lower end of this, the stream, once more bursting forth into 
 light, leaped vertically at one bound through a space of two hun- 
 dred feet sheer, foiling into the bottom of a deep gorge, with a noise 
 louder than the roar of the mighty ocean. 
 
 Just where the foaming flood broke over the crest of the rocks 
 grew two enormous cypresses of the kind know n to the Mexicans 
 as ahuekuetes, or, " lords of tha water." They stood on opposite 
 sides of the stream, with th«*.ir long arms extended towards each 
 other. Thickly loaded with Ilia nJ:9, and profusely festooned with 
 the silvery Spanish moss, which, drooping downwards, every now 
 and then dipped into the foaming arch of the cascade, these two 
 great trees looked like the ancient genii of the waters. 
 
 At this point the two men made a halt. Although they were 
 now very near to the place where the jaguars were supposed to be, 
 Clara had become more regardless of the danger. J lis fear, both 
 of wild beasts and evil spirits, had yielded to his thirst for gold, 
 which had been gradually growing stronger. 
 
 " Now, Clara i" said Costal, turning a severe look upon his com- 
 rade ; " listen attentively to the instructions I am about to give 
 you. If the Siren should appear to you, and you should exhibit 
 either by look or gesture, the slightest symptoms of fear, you are 
 a lost man !" 
 
 "All right!" jeplied the negro. "The hope of being shown a 
 mine of gold gives me courage to risk even my neck in a halter, if 
 ueed be. Never fear, Costal. Speak on — I am ready to listen." 
 
 As the negro pronounced these w r ords, his countenance to all ar> 
 
THE CASCADE. f, 1 
 
 pearance expressed as much firmness as that of Costal himself. The 
 Indian, thus assured, seated himself upon the very edge of the pre- 
 cipice, overlooking the gorge into which the waters were precipitat- 
 ed, while Clara, without invitation, sut down by his side. 
 
f:2 THE TIGEK-IiUXTBft. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 STRAYED FROM THE TRACK. 
 
 The ravine, below the spot whore the Indian and negro had seat- 
 ed themselves, was covered with a luxurious vegetation — plants 
 and trees of tropical growth so thickly standing over the ground 
 that the rays of the sun could not have penetrated through the 
 umbrageous foliage. Notwithstanding this abundance of vegeta- 
 tion, if the two gold- seekers had not been so absorbed in their do- 
 signs, they might have seen below them the figure of a man, who 
 was standing at the bottom of the cascade, directly under their feet. 
 
 This man, who had just arrived on the spot, and who app 
 to be regarding the waterfall with looks of curiosity and admira- 
 tion, was no other than Rafael Tres- Villas, Captain of the Queen's 
 Dragoons. 
 
 It is necessary to explain how Don Rafael had come to be found 
 in this wild spot, altogether away from the path which he should 
 have followed to the haciendas Las Palmas. Accident, not design, 
 had conducted him to the bottom of the cascade. 
 
 On parting from the student of theology, who, recalling the clas- 
 sic scenes of his Odyssey, had mistaken him for a man-eater — a 
 Lestrygon — the dragoon-captain, without searching any longer for 
 an explanation of the odd circumstances observed along the way, at 
 once stretched bis horse into a gallon. The animal required no 
 propulsion of the spur. His instinct enabled him,to scent the prox- 
 imity of a stable; and ho responded to the wishes of his rider by 
 galloping swiftly forward. 
 
 Unfortunately the Captain, though a Creole or native Mexican, 
 was entirely unacquainted with this part of the cquntry. He had 
 
STRAYED FROM THE TRACK. 53 
 
 been born in it, as already hinted; but at a very early age had 
 been taker tc reside in the capital ; and since then had never re- 
 visitec tlie place of his nativity. He was consequently ignorant of 
 the roac leading to the paternal hacienda Del Valle — as also to that 
 of Las Palmas — for both were one. 
 
 lie had not ridden many miles when he arrived at a point where 
 the road forked into two separate paths. Both however continued 
 on, running at no great distance from each other. 
 
 Not knowing which he should take, and having met no humau 
 being that could direct him. the Captain left the choice to his horse. 
 
 The animal, that was no doubt suffering more from thirst than 
 hunger, spread his nostrils to the air, and scenting the fresh exhal- 
 ations of water, struck off in the direction whe ice it came. This 
 was to the right. 
 
 The choice was fortunate for the student of theology, but rather 
 unlucky for the dragoon captain, as will presently appear. 
 
 In fact, the path leading to the left was that which conducted to 
 the hacienda of Las Palmas — which the Captain, for a certain rea- 
 son, was desirous of reaching, and on that very evening. 
 
 After following the right-hand branch for some minutes, the 
 horseman arrived at a spot where the path suddenly gave out. In 
 front appeared only a thick tangle of trees and bushes, behind 
 which could be heard the roaring of a torrent. 
 
 Don Rafael was now completely at fault. To return on his 
 track would not only be disagreeable, but there would still exist 
 the same uncertainty as to his route. Even the right-hand branch 
 *)f the road might not be the right one ! 
 
 After a minute or two spent in considering what was best to be 
 done, the Captain dismounted, and tying his steed to a tree, com- 
 menced making his way through the thicket in the direction whence 
 came the sound of the water, evidently a stream. He was m hopes 
 that on reaching the bank, and following along the water's edge, 
 he might find the continuation of the road and some point where 
 the stream was fordable. After making his way with much labor 
 and loss of time through the labyrinthine tangle of the thi< ; et, he 
 arrived at the bottom of the cascade, just at the moment when Cos- 
 tad and Clara were about entering upon the ceremony of invoking 
 the Siren. 
 
 Notwithstanding the desire which the dragoon captain had to es- 
 cape as soon as possible from the dilemma into which chance had 
 conducted nim, the spectacle of this cascade — one of the most mag- 
 niiicent in America — drew from him a cry of wonder and admira- 
 
54 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 tion. For some minutes he stood regarding it with admiring eyes, 
 inspired with those sublime feelings witich such a grand sight is caU 
 eulated to call forth. 
 
 At length other thoughts came before his mind ; and he was 
 about turning away to continue his explorations for a path, when, 
 an unexpected object presenting itself to 2f<s eyes, caused him to 
 keep his place. 
 
A LUDICSOL'S il ECTACLE. £5 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A LUDICROUS SPECTACLE. 
 
 Amii> the Vapory mist that soared above the foaming torrent, the 
 tops of the two ohuehuetes could be seen only indistinctly, but the 
 trunks and lower limbs were more palpably visible. On one of 
 these, that projected obliquely over the water, the dragoon fancied 
 he could perceive the figure of a man. On closer scrutiny he be 
 came certain it was the figure of a man, and the bronze-coloured 
 skin told him the man was an Indian. 
 
 Looking further, he observed another apparition equally singular. 
 Through the fork of the second ahuehuete, appeared a face with 
 a complexion black as ebon}'. It could be no other than the face 
 of a negro. 
 
 Here, then, were three distinct types of the human race met in 
 this wild spot. Why he was himself there, Dan Rafael knew well 
 enough ; but what had brought the Indian and negro into su^-h a 
 place, and at such an hour, was what was now puzzling him. 
 
 Without saying a word, he stood watching the movements of th? 
 two men, in hopes that the event would furnish him with an expla 
 nation. Soon the entire bodies of both negro and Indian appeared 
 in sight, as the two men crawled outward on the overleaning limbs 
 of the trees ; but still more plainly, as, hanging by the branches, 
 they let themselves down till their feet dipped into the foam; 
 and swinging there, appeared to go through a scries of the most 
 grotesque contortions ! The sight made the head of the officer to 
 swim, as if suddenly struck with vertigo. 
 
 Thus engaged, neither of the two perceived Don Rafael, though 
 he was standing u:)on the spot of open ground immediately below 
 them. 
 
56 ~"3 TTGER-HUNTEa. 
 
 For his life, the officer could not guess the nature of these sin 
 gular proceedings. He concluded that some object — unseen to 
 him — was engaging their attention ; and he could not help fancying 
 that it was some in mph of the waters, whom the negro appeared 
 to be wooing, to judge by his impassioned gestures and auimated 
 physiognomy. 
 
 The large mouth of the darkey was open from ear to ear. dis- 
 playing his double row of white teeth set in the most winning 
 smile; while ever and anon he stretched his neck out over the wa- 
 ter, as if the object of his regards was hid under the shining sheet 
 of foam ! 
 
 The Indian was acting in a similar fashion, but with ;i more se- 
 rious expression of countenance, and greater dignity of manner. 
 
 The officer carefully scrutinized the whole surface of the cascade; 
 but he could see nothing but the glistei ing sheen of the water, and 
 the mass of white foam where it broke over the rock. 
 
 At that moment the Indian made a sign to the black to cease 
 from his grimaces; and, letting go his hold with one hand, he 
 swung his body whoily upon the other over the fearful abyss. 
 
 The recklessness of the action caused a renewed surprise to the 
 spectator standing below, amounting almost to a feeling of awe. 
 Before he had time to reflect upon it, a. human voice reached his 
 -\rs, rising high above the roaring of the torrent. It was the voice 
 of the Indian, who, with outstretched arm. was (haunting a solemn 
 invocation to the spirit of the waters. The words could not be 
 distinguished, but Don Rafael saw, by the muscular | lay < f the 
 man's lips, that he was singing with all the strength of his lungs. 
 Curiosity might have prompted the dragoon captain to watch 
 these strange proceedings to the end, but the desire of learning 
 something about his route influenced him to act otherwise. He 
 fancied that by waiting longer the opportunity might be lost. The 
 two persons might disappear in a manner as mysterious as was 
 their behaviour. 
 
 To attract their attention, therefore, he shouted, and at the top 
 of his voice ; but to no purpose. The deafening roar of the cata^ 
 ract hindered him from being heard ; and partly, perhaps, the en- 
 grossing occupation in which the two men were engaged. 
 
 Failing to attract their notice, he resolved upon ascending the 
 side of the ravine, and going round to the place where they were. 
 For that purpose he retraced his steps through the thicket ; and af- 
 ter a difficult climb he reached tie top of the cliff, at the point 
 
A LUDICROUS SPECTACLE. 57 
 
 where the ahuehuetes formed the arcade over the water. The two 
 personages had disappeared ! 
 
 Curious as to the object of their ludicrous proceedings, the dragoon 
 climbed up one of the trees, and from a commanding point care- 
 fully scrutinised the water underneath. He there perceived nothing 
 more than he had seen already — nothing to justify the strange con 
 duct he hal witnessed. 
 
 While iu the tree, he looked down into the ravine below ; nr&i 
 upon the frothing river, and then over the tops of the bushes that 
 grew upon its bank. In an instant he perceived that some of these 
 were in motion, as if some one was making way through the thick- 
 et which he had himself traversed. 
 
 Presently two men emerged from the cover, and stepped out up- 
 on the open bank, at the spot where but the moment before Don 
 Rafael had stood. A glance satisfied him that they were the same 
 he had see upon the ahuehuetes — the negro and Indian. 
 
 The sun had already set, but there was still light enough, even in 
 the bottom of the ravine, for Don Rafael to distinguish, not only the 
 movements of the men, but the expression upon their features. 
 Both wore a solemn cast, but those of the negro exhibited evidence 
 of his being influenced by a secret fear. 
 
 Near the bank, and where the stream was shallow, a large round 
 boulder of rock stood up out of the water. Towards this the two 
 were directing their steps. 
 
 At a signal from the Indian, the negro collected a number of dry 
 sticks ; and having piled them upon the flat top of the rock, set 
 them en fire. 
 
 In a short time the blaze shot up, and cast its red glare over the 
 stream, tinging with purple flakes the foam of the cataract. 
 
 The. negro, after kindling the fire, seated himself on the bank, and 
 appeared to contemplate the blaze and its reflections with a feeling 
 of awe. The Indian, on the other hand, threw off his hat, and un- 
 twined the plaits of his hair — black as the wing of the raven — 
 whose age he expected to attain. Leaving the long tresses to fall 
 wildly over his shoulders, he walked out into the water, and halted 
 by the side of the rock. The dragoon now saw fnr the first time a 
 huge sea-shell — a conch — in the hands of the Indian, which had hith- 
 erto hung by his side suspended by a string. Placing the conch 
 to his mouth, he blew several loud, prolonged notes upon it, as if 
 with the intention of arousing the spirit of the waters. Then suf- 
 fering the shell to fall back upon its string, he commenced leaping 
 around the rock in a sort of grotesque dance, splashing and plung- 
 
58 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 ing through the water until the spray rose up and wetted him over 
 the crown of the head. 
 
 The whole spectacle was at once ludicrous and imposing. The 
 stoical composure of the negro, who sat perfectly silent upon the 
 bank watching with a solemn air the grotesque capers of his com- 
 panion — the red light reflected upon the savage figures of the two 
 men — reflected also upon the foaming cataract, which appeared to 
 roll over the cliff like an avalanche of fire — all combined to form a 
 scene in which the ludicrous aud the sublime were singularly com- 
 mingled. 
 
 Don Rafael might have desired to witness the finale ; but time 
 was pressing, and he had a strong motive urging him to proceed up- 
 on his journey. 
 
 " Santos Dios /" cried he in an impatient tone, " I should like 
 to wait and see what pagan divinity these droll savages are invok- 
 ing; but it will not do to tarry longer here. I must onwards; and 
 to find my way it will be necessary to interrupt their proceedings." 
 
 Saying this, the officer raised his voice and shouted "Ilola!" 
 with all the strength of his lungs. 
 
 The hail was not heeded : it was not heard. 
 
 " Mald'ito /" exclaimed he, " I must try some other means of 
 drawing their attention." 
 
 A method at once suggested itself; and stooping, the officer took 
 up a handful of small pebbles, and launched them down upon the 
 two adorers of the demon. 
 
 So far as drawing their attention went, the means proved effica- 
 cious; for the instant that the pebbles fell upon the water, the Indi- 
 an, with a stroke of his hand, swept the fire from the rock, and the 
 ravine became instantaneously as dark as Erebus. The forms of 
 the two water-worshippers disappeared in the gloom ; and Don 
 Rafael found himself alone in the presence of the foaming cataract. 
 
THE DIADEM. * $$ 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE DIADEM. 
 
 Chagrined at the result, the traveller had no course left but to 
 return to the place where he had left his horse. He was now in a 
 worse predicament than ever; since it had become dark, and it 
 would be difficult not only to find a path, but to follow it when 
 found. The moon, however, had already risen, or rather had been 
 all the while above the horizon, but hidden by a thick band of cum- 
 ulous clouds that hung over the west. As the clouds did not cover 
 the whole canopy, and it was likely that the moon would soon be 
 visible, the traveller saw that he had no other resource than to 
 wait : in hopes that by her light he might extricate himself from 
 the difficulty into which his mischances had guided him. 
 
 On arriving where he had left his horse, Don Rafael sat down up- 
 on a fallen tree ; and, lighting a cigar, awaited the appearance of the 
 moon. He knew he should not have long to wait, for the yellow 
 sheen, which betokened the situation of the luminary of night, was 
 at no great distance from the edge of the cloud. 
 
 He had not been seated more than a few seconds, when a singular 
 sound fell upon his ear. It was not the rushing noise of the cas- 
 cade — for to that he had been accustomed for some time — but a 
 sound that resembled the scream of some wild animal, ending in a 
 hoarse and fiercely intoned roaring. He had heard it once or twice 
 before ; and although he could tell that it was not the how r l of the 
 coyote, he knew not what sort of creature was causing it. 
 
 Despite his ignorance of the cause, there was something in the 
 sound that denoted danger; and, instinctively influenced by this 
 idea, the young officer rose from his seat upon the log ; and, unty^ 
 
60 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 ing his horse, leaped into the saddle. It was not with the intention 
 of moving away from the spot — for the moon was not visible as 
 yet — but with the. knowledge that on horseback he would be the 
 better prepared for any event that might arise. Still further to 
 provide against possible danger, he unbuckled the strap of his car- 
 bine, and tried whether the piece was primed and in order. Don 
 Rafael, although young, had seen some military service on the 
 northern frontier of Mexico — where Indian warfare had taught him 
 the wisdom of keeping habitually upon his guard. 
 
 Again he heard the wild lugubrious scream rising above the roar 
 of the waters ; and perceived that his horse, hearing it also, trem- 
 bled between his thighs ! 
 
 Coupling the sound with the strange spectacle to which he had 
 just been a witness, the young officer could not help feeling a slight 
 sensation of fear He was a Creole, brought up consequently in 
 the midst of ecclesiastical superstition, scarce less monstrous and 
 absurd than that of pure paganism itself. He had heard in his 
 youth how animals in presence of beings of the other world are 
 seized with a shivering — such as that exhibited at the moment by 
 his own horse — and he could almost fancy that the scene he had 
 just witnessed was some evocation of the Prince of Darkness, to 
 which the lugubrious sounds now reaching him were the response. 
 
 But Don Rafael was one of those bold spirits whom fear may 
 visit but not subdue; and he remained immobile in his saddle, 
 without showing any further symptoms of apprehension than by 
 the twitching of his lips against his cigar, the light of which at in, 
 tervais gleamed like a meteor through the darkness. 
 
 While thus patiently waiting the moonlight, the horseman fancied 
 that he heard other sounds, and of a different import. Human 
 voices they appeared to be ; and it at once occured to him, that it 
 might be the two men whom he hid disturbed and driven from 
 th^ir incantations. The voices were each moment more distinctly 
 uttered ; and it was evident that the speakers were approaching 
 him. He perceived that it was probable they would come out 
 somewhere near where he was stationed; and in order to have the 
 advantage of a preliminary survey, in case they might turn out to 
 be enemies, he drew his horse back under the darker shadow of 
 the trees — placing himself in such a position that he commanded 
 a view of the path. 
 
 The voices he heard were in reality those of the Indian and ne. 
 gro, or Costal and Clara : for it need scarce be told that it was they 
 
THE DIADEM. 61 
 
 who were the heroes of the mysterious spectacle of which Don 
 Rafael had been the sole spectator. 
 
 The two worthies, on being interrupted in their pagan ceremo- 
 ny by the shower of pebbles, had given up the performance ; and 
 w r ere now threading their way through the thicket to reach the road 
 beyond it. 
 
 The Indian was venting his wrath against the unknown personage 
 who had intruded upon their sacred devotions, and who had very 
 probably hindered the Siren of the dishevelled hair from showing 
 herself. The negro appeared to be equally indignant ; but his an- 
 ger was probably only pretended. 
 
 " Is it only at the first appearance of a new moon that the Siren 
 shows herself? 7 ' inquired Clara, as if the opportunity for seeing her 
 had escaped them. 
 
 " Of course," replied Costal, " only then ; but if there is a pro- 
 fane person in the neighborhood — and by profane I mean a white — 
 the spirit will not appear." 
 
 " Perhaps she is afraid of the Inquisition V naively suggested 
 the negro. 
 
 " Bah ! Clara, you're a ninny ! Why the devil should you sup- 
 pose that the powerful divinity of the waters has any fear of long- 
 robed monks ? It is they, more likely, who would have cause to 
 tremble in her presence, and prostrate themselves before her." 
 
 " Carrambo ! if she's afraid to show herself before one white 
 man, more reason why she should fear a whole host of monks — ■ 
 who, it must be confessed, are ugly enough to frighten anything." 
 
 " May the devil drown the man who interrupted us ?" cried Cos- 
 tal, rendered the more indignant by the justice of the negro's rea- 
 soning. " A few minutes more, and I am certain the Siren would 
 have showed herself." 
 
 " Why did you extinguish the fire so soon ? I think, friend Cos- 
 tal, you did wrong in that," remonstrated Clara. 
 
 " I did it to hide from the eyes of the profane white man the 
 mystery about to be accomplished. Besides, I knew after what 
 happened there was no chance of her appearing." 
 
 " So you really think it was some one who disturbed us ?" 
 
 " I am sure of it." 
 
 "And is that now you account for the shower of stones?" 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " By my faith, then," said the negro in a serious tone, " I differ 
 with you in opinion about that." 
 
62 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " You do ? And what is your opinion about it ?" inquired Costal, 
 stopping and turning his eyes upon his companion. 
 
 " I would stake my life upon it," replied the negro, still speaking 
 seriously, " that while you were dancing around the rock, I saw the 
 Siren." 
 
 " Saw the Siren ?" 
 
 " Yes. Just where we had been — up by the ahuehuetes — I saw by 
 the blaze of our fire a face, surrounded by a diadem of shining gold. 
 What could that have been but the Siren ?" 
 
 " You must have been mistaken, friend Clara." 
 
 " I was not mistaken. I saw what I tell you, and I shouldn't a 
 bit wonder that what we took for pebbles were nothing more nor 
 less than a shower of iiepitas (nuggets) of gold, which the spirit had 
 thrown down to us." 
 
 " Carajo! why did you allow us to leave the place without telling 
 me of this ?" 
 
 " Because it just occurred to me now that it was jyppifas, and not 
 pebbles; besides, our touchwood is all gone, and we could not have 
 kindled another fire." 
 
 " We might have groped in the dark." 
 
 "Nonsense, friend Costal! How could we tell grains of gold 
 from gravel or any thing else in the midst of such darkness as there 
 is down here. Besides, if I came away, it was only with the thought 
 of returning again. Wc can come back in the morning at day. 
 break." 
 
 "Aha!" cried Costal, suddenly starting with an alarmed air, and 
 striking his forehead with his hand. " We shan't return here to- 
 morrow morning. Carrai ! 1 had forgotten; we sluill do well to 
 get out of this ravine as quickly as possible." 
 
 " Why so ?" hastily inquired the black, astounded beyond mea. 
 sure at the altered demeanour of his companion. 
 
 " Carrai ! I had forgotten," said Costal, repeating his words. 
 " To-night is new moon ; and it is just at this season that the rivers 
 rise, break over their banks, and inundate the whole country. Yes ! 
 the flood will come upon us like an avalanche, and almost without 
 warning. Ha ! 1 do believe that is the warning now ! Do you not 
 hear a distant hissing sound ?" And as he said this the Indian bent 
 his head and stood listening. 
 
 "The cascade, is it not?" 
 
 " No — it is very different — it is a distant sound, and I can dis- 
 tinguish it from the roar of the river. I am almost certain it is the 
 inundation." 
 
THE DIADEM. 08 
 
 " Heaven have mercy upon us !" exclaimed the black. " What 
 are we to do V 
 
 " Oh ! make your mind easy," rejoined Costal in a consolatory 
 tone. " We are not in much danger. Once out of the ravine, we 
 can climb a tree. If the flood should find us here, it would be all 
 over with us." 
 
 " Por Bios ! let us make haste then," said Clara, " and get out 
 of this accursed place, fit only for demons and tigers !" 
 
 A few steps more brought the two adventurers out into the open 
 ground ; and close to the spot where the dragoon captain was sit- 
 ting silently on his horse. The red coal glowing at the end of his 
 cigar shone at intervals in the darkness, lighting up his face, and the 
 gold band of lace that encircled his hat. Clara was the first to per~ 
 ceive this unexpected apparition. 
 
 <: Look, Costal !" said he, hastily grasping his companion by the 
 arm, and whispering in his ear : " look there ! As L live, the dia- 
 dem of the Siren !" 
 
 The Indian turned his eyes in the direction indicated, and there, 
 sure enough, beheld something of a circular shape, shining in the 
 glow of a reddish-coloured spot of fire. 
 
 He might have been as much puzzled to account for this strange 
 appearance as was his companion ; but at that moment the moon 
 shot up from behind the bank of clouds that had hitherto hindered 
 her from being seen, and the figures of both horse and rider were 
 brought fully into the light. 
 
04 THE TIGER-HUA'TEF 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 WHO GOES THERE? 
 
 At a glance Costal saw what the strange object was — a broad 
 band of gold lace encircling a sombrero, and placed, Mexican fash- 
 ion, around the edge of the brim. The cigar illuminating the lace 
 had deceived the negro, guiding him to the idea of a diadem ! 
 
 " Carajo /" muttered Costal between his teeth, " I told you so. 
 Did I not say that some profane white had hindered the Siren from 
 appearing ?" 
 
 "You were right," replied Clara, ashamed of the mistake he had 
 made, and from that time losing all belief in the genius of the cas- 
 cade. 
 
 "An officer! muttered Costal, recognising the military equip- 
 ments of the dragoon, who, with a carbine in one hand, and his bri- 
 dle in the other, sat smoking his cigar, as immovable as a statue. 
 
 "Who goes there?" cried Costal, saluting him in a loud, bold 
 voice. 
 
 "Say, rather, who stands there?" responded Don Rafael, with 
 equal firmness, at the same moment that he recognised in the speak' 
 er the Indian whose incantation he had Avitnessed. 
 
 " Delighted to hear ycu speak at last, my fine fellows," contin- 
 ued the dragoon in his military off-hand way, at the same time caus- 
 ing his horse to step forward face to face with the adventurers. 
 
 "Perhaps we are not so much pleased to hear you," replied Cos- 
 tal roughly, as he spoke, shifting his gun from one shoulder to the 
 other. 
 
 " Ah ! I am sorry for that," rejoined the dragoon, smiling frankly 
 
WHO GOES THERE? 6t> 
 
 through his thick moustache, " for I'm not inclined to solitary hab- 
 its, and I'm tired of being here alone." 
 
 As Don Rafael said this, he placed his carbine back into its sling, 
 and rebuckled the straps around it, as if it was no longer required. 
 This he did notwithstanding the half-hostile attitude of the adven- 
 turers. 
 
 The act did not escape the quick perception of the Indian ; and, 
 along with the good-humour manifest in the stranger's speech, made 
 an instantaneous impression upon him. 
 
 "Perhaps," added Don Rafael, plunging his hand into the pock- 
 et of his jaqueta, " you have no good feeling towards me for dis- 
 turbing you in your proceedings, which I confess I did not under- 
 stand. Neither did they concern me; but you will excuse a strayed 
 traveller, who wished to inquire his way ; and as I had no means of 
 making myself heard to you, I was forced to adopt the method I did 
 to draw your attention. I hope that on reflection you will do jus- 
 tice to my dexterity in taking care that none of the stones should 
 hit you."" 
 
 As he finished speaking, the dragoon took a dollar from his purse, 
 and offered it to the Indian. 
 
 " Thank you," said Costal, delicately refusing the piece, but 
 which Clara, less scrupulous, transferred to his pocket. " Thank 
 you, cavallero ! May I ask where you are going]" 
 
 " To the hacienda Las Palmas." 
 
 "Las Pal mas?" 
 
 " Yes — am I far from it ?" 
 
 " Well," replied Costal, " that depends on the road you take." 
 
 " I wish to take the shortest. I am rather pressed for time." 
 
 " Well, then — the road which is the shortest is not that which you 
 will find the most easy to follow. If you wish to go by the one on 
 which there is the least danger of your getting astray, you will fol- 
 low up the course of this river. But if you wish a shorter route — 
 one which avoids the windings of the stream — vou will go that 
 way." 
 
 As Costal finished speaking, he pointed in a direction very differ- 
 ent from that which he had indicated as the course of the river. 
 
 The Indian had no design of giving a false direction. Even had 
 the little resentment, which he had conceived for the stranger, not 
 entirely passed, he knew that he dared not mislead a traveller on 
 the way to the hacienda, of which he was himself a servitor. But 
 he no longer held any grudge against the young officer, and his di- 
 rections were honestly meant. 
 
$>C> THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 While they were speaking, another of those terrible screams that 
 had perplexed the traveller broke in upon the dialogue. It was 
 the cry of the jaguar, and came from the direction in which lay the 
 route indicated by Costal as the shortest. 
 
 " What on" earth is that?" inquired the officer. 
 "Only a jaguar searching for prey," cooly responded Costal. 
 " Oh !" said the dragoon, " is that all '? I was fancying it might 
 be something more fearful." 
 
 " Your shortest route, then, lies that way," said Costal, resuming 
 hie directions, and pointing with his gun towards the spot where 
 the howl of the tiger had been heard. 
 
 "Thank you!" said the horseman, gathering up his reins, and 
 heading his horse to the path. *•' Jf that is the shortest I shall take 
 it." 
 
 " Stay !" said Costal, approaching a little nearer, and speaking 
 with more cordiality than he had yet shown. 
 
 " Oir/ate, senor cavallero ! A brave man like you does not need 
 to be warned of every danger ; but one ought to be informed of 
 the dangers one must meet." 
 Don Rafael checked his horse. 
 
 " Speak, friend," said he ; "I shall not listen to you ungrate- 
 fully." 
 
 " To reach from here the hacienda of Las Palmas," continued 
 Costal, " without going astray, or making detours, be careful al- 
 ways to keep the moon to your left, so that your shadow may be 
 thrown on the right — a little slanting — just as you are at this mo- 
 ment. Moreover, when you have started, never draw bridle till 
 you have reached the house of Don Mariano de Silva. if you 
 meet a ditch, or brake, or ravine, -cross them in a direct line, and 
 don't attempt to go round them." 
 
 The Indian gave these directions in so grave a tone of voice, and 
 with such solemnity of manner, that Don Rafael was struck with 
 surprise. 
 
 " What frightful danger is it that threatens me ?" he inquired at 
 length. 
 
 " A danger," replied Costal, " compared with which that of all 
 the tigers that ever howled over these plains is but child's play — 
 the danger of the inundation ! Perhaps before an hour has passed, 
 it will come sweeping over these savannas like a foaming sea. The 
 arriero and his mules, as well as the shepherd and his flocks, will 
 be carried away by its flood, if they don't succeed in reaching the 
 
WHO GOES THERE ? 67 
 
 shelter of that very hacienda where you are going. Aye ! the very 
 tigers will not escape, with all their swiftness !" 
 
 " 1 shall pay strict attention to the directions you have given 
 me," said the officer — once more about to ride off — when just then 
 he remembered his fellow-traveller whom he had left on the road. 
 
 In a few hurried words he made known to the Indian the situa- 
 tion of the young student of theology. 
 
 " Make your mind easy about him," replied the latter. " We 
 shall bring him to the hacienda to-morrow, if we find him still alive. 
 Think only of yourself, and those who might bewail your death. 
 If you meet the jaguars don't trouble yourself about them. Should 
 your horse refuse to pass them, speak to him. If the brutes come 
 near you, let them hear you as well. The human voice was given 
 us to procure respect, which it will do from the most ferocious of 
 animals. The whites^ don't know this — because fighting the tiger is 
 not their trade, as it is that of the red man ; and I can tell you an 
 adventure of this kind that I once had with a jaguar — Bah ! he's 
 gone !" 
 
 The last exclamatory phrases were drawn from the speaker, on 
 perceiving that the horseman, instead of staying to listen to his tale 
 of adventure, had put spurs to his horse, and suddenly ridden 
 away. 
 
 In another instant he was beyond ear-shot, galloping over the 
 moonlit plain in the direction of the hacienda Las Palmas. 
 
 " Well !" cried Costal, as he stood gazing after him, " he's a 
 frank brave fellow, and I should be sorry if any mischance were to 
 happen to him. I was not pleased about his interrupting us. It 
 was a pity, to be sure ; but after all, had I been in his place I should 
 have done just as he did. Never mind," he added, after a pause, 
 " all is not over — we shall find another opportunity." 
 
 " Hum !" said Clara, " I think the sooner we get out of the neigh- 
 borhood of these tigers the better for our skins. For my part, I've 
 had enough adventure for one day." 
 
 " Bah! still frightened about the tigers ! For shame, Clara! 
 Look at this young man, who never saw a jaguar in his life ; and 
 heeds them no more than so many field mice. Come along !" 
 
 " What have we to do now ?" 
 
 " The spirit of the waters," replied Costal, " does not show her- 
 self in the cascade alone. She appears also to those who invoke 
 her with the conch, amidst the yellow waves of the inundation. To- 
 morrow we may try again." 
 
08 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " What about the young fellow whom the officer has recommend 
 ed to our care ?" 
 
 " We shall go to look after him in the morning. Meanwhile, wg 
 must have some rest ourselves. Let us climb out of the ravine, 
 and carry the canoe up to the summit of the Cerro tie la Mem. 
 There we shall sleep tranquilly without fear either of floods or 
 jaguars." 
 
 "That's just the thing," said Clara, his black face brightening up 
 at the prospect of a good night's rest. " To say the truth, friend 
 Costal, I'm tired enough myself. Our gymnastics up yonder, on 
 the ahuehueies, have made every bone in my body as sore as a 
 blister." 
 
 And as the two confreres ended their dialogue, they stepped 
 briskly forward, and were soon at the top of the precipitous path 
 that led up from the ravine. 
 
PRECIOUS MOMENTS. CO 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 PRECIOUS MOMENTS. 
 
 The Captain of the Queen's Dragoons continued his gallop to- 
 wards the hacienda of Las Palmas. 
 
 For the first mile or two of his- route, he passed over the broad 
 plain that lay silent under the soft light of the moon. The frond- 
 a<*e of the palms swayed gently under a sky sparkling with stars, 
 and the penetrating odor of the guavas loaded the atmosphere with 
 a delicious perfume. So tranquil was the scene, that Don Rafael 
 began to think the Indian had been playing upon his credulity. Me- 
 chanically he relaxed his pace, and delivered himself up to one of 
 those sweet reveries which the tropic night often awakens within the 
 spirit of the traveller. At such an hour one experiences a degree 
 of rapture in listening to the voices of earth and heaven, like a 
 hymn which each alternately chants to the other. 
 
 All at once the traveller remembered what for the last two days 
 had been perplexing him, houses abandoned, canoes suspended from 
 the trees. Nov, for the first time, did he comprehend the meaning 
 of these circumstances, no longer strange. The canoes and peria- 
 guas had been thus placed as a last means of safety, for those who 
 might be so unfortunate as to be overtaken by the inundation. 
 
 Suddenly rousing himself from his reverie, Don Rafael again 
 spurred his horse into a gallop. 
 
 He had ridden scarce a mile further, when all at once the voices 
 of the night became hushed. The cicadas in the trees, and the 
 crickets under the. grass, as if by mutual consent, discontinued 
 their cheerful chirrup; and the breeze, hitherto soft and balmy, 
 was succeeded by puffs of wind, exhaling a marshy odour, stifling 
 as the breath of some noisome pestilence. 
 
TO THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 This ominous silence was not of long duration. Presently the 
 traveller perceived a hoarse distant roaring, not unlike that of the 
 cataract he had left behind ; but from a point diametrically oppo- 
 site — in fact from the direction towards which he was heading. 
 
 At first he fancied that in his momentary fit of abstraction he 
 had taken a wrong direction, and might be returning upon the 
 stream. But no : the moon was on his left; his shadow and that 
 of his horse were projected to the opposite side. He must still bo 
 on the right road. 
 
 His heart began to bound more quickly within his breast. If the 
 Indian had spoken the truth, a danger lay before him against which 
 neither his carbine nor rapier — neither courage nor a strong arm — 
 could avail him. His only hope rested in the speed and strength 
 of his horse. 
 
 Fortunately, the long journey had not deprived the brave steed 
 of all his vigour. With cars laid back, and muzzle stretched hor- 
 izontally forward, he continued his rapid gallop ; his spread nos- 
 trils inhaling the pulls of damp air which came like avant-couriers 
 in advance of the troubled waters. 
 
 It was a struggle between the horseman and the flood, as to which 
 should first reach the hacienda of Las Palmas. 
 
 The officer slackened his bridle rein. The tinkling rowels of his 
 spurs resounded against the ribs of his horse. The trial of speed 
 had commenced. The plain appeared to glide past him like the cur- 
 rent of a river. The bushes and tall palms seemed flying back- 
 ward. 
 
 The inundation was rolling from west to east. The horseman 
 was hastening in the opposite direction. Both must soon come to- 
 gether ; but at what place ? 
 
 The distance between them was rapidly diminishing. The noise 
 of the flood, at first low, like the muttering of distant thunder, was 
 graduallv growing louder. The palms still appeared to glide past 
 like spectres, but as yet the belfry of the hacienda had not come 
 in sight. Neither as yet was visible the threatening mass of inun- 
 dation. 
 
 At this perilous moment Don Rafael perceived that his horse was 
 sensibly slackening his pace. The sides of the animal felt swollen 
 and heaved with a convulsive panting. 
 
 The air, so rapidly cut in his swift course, with difficulty entered 
 his nostrils. A few seconds longer, and that in his lungs must give 
 out. 
 
 The officer drew up for an instant. The breathing of his horse 
 appeared obstructed, and the hoarse sound, caused by its inspiration, 
 
PRECIOUS MOMENTS. 71 
 
 was a mournful accompaniment to the sough of the waters that 
 were constantly advancing. 
 
 The traveller listened to these sounds with a sentiment of des- 
 pair. 
 
 Just then he heard the clanging of a hell, as if hurriedly tolled. 
 It was that of the hacienda, giving out its warning notes over the 
 wide savanna. 
 
 A reflection crossed his mind. It had been partly suggested by 
 the words of the Indian: " Think only of those tulio may bewail 
 your death" Was there in that hacienda, where he was hourly ex- 
 pected, one who would bewail it ? Perhaps yes, and bitterly ! 
 
 The thought would have urged him onward ; but Don Rafael still 
 remained halted. He saw that his horse required a moment of 
 rest, in order to recover his wind, otherwise he could not have pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 The dragoon had the presence of mind to perceive this imperious 
 necessity; and, spite of the danger that threatered, he dismounted, 
 loosened the girdle of his saddle, thus permitting the horse to 
 breathe more freely. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 X FRIEND IN NEED. 
 
 He was counting with anxiety the minutes that passed, when rt 
 that moment there echoed upon his car the hoot-strokes of another 
 horse, going at full gallop. 
 
 Jt was a horseman following the same route, and running the 
 same risk as himself. He was mounted upon a strong, swift ani- 
 mal, that appeared to pass over the ground like a bird upon the 
 wing. 
 
 In an instant the horseman came up, and drawing vigorously on 
 the bridle, halted alongside. 
 
 " What are you about?" cried the new comer, speaking in hur- 
 ried phrase. " Do you not hear the alarm bell ? Don't you know 
 that the flood is coming down ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but my horse has given out. I am waiting till he recov 
 ers his wind." 
 
 The stranger cast a glance towarJ the bay -brown of Don Rafael, 
 and then threw himself out of his saddle. " Take hold of this," he 
 said, fli lining his bridle to the officer. " Let me examine your 
 horse." 
 
 Raising the side-flap, he placed his hand underneath, 10 feel the 
 pulsation of the lungs. 
 
 " All right yet," he exclaimed, after a pause, apparently satisfied 
 that the animal would recover. 
 
 Then stooping down, he took up a large stone, and began rubbing 
 it vigorously over the ribs and along the belly of the panting steed. 
 
 Don Rafael could not help gazing with curious interest on a man 
 who, thus careless of his own life, was occupying himself so goner 
 
A FRIEND IN' NEED. V3 
 
 ously about the safety of another — that other, too, a perfect stran- 
 ger. 
 
 The man was costumed as an arriero (muleteer). A species of 
 tight-fitting blouse, of coarse greyish-coloured wool, striped black, 
 covered the upper part of his body, over which, in front, hung a 
 short leathern apron. Wide calzoneros of linen flapped about his 
 legs. His feet were encased in buskins of brown goat-skin, while 
 over his face fell the shadow of a broad brimmed hat, of coarse felt 
 cloth. 
 
 He was a man of less than medium size; but with a sweet ex- 
 pression of features, from which his sunburnt complexion did not 
 detract. Even at that terrible moment his countenance appeared 
 calm and serene ! 
 
 Don Rafael did not attempt to interrupt his proceedings, but 
 stood regarding him with a feeling of deep gratitude. 
 
 For some moments the muleteer continued to use the stone. Then 
 stopping the process, he placed his hand once more to feel the pul- 
 sation. This time he appeared less satisfied than before. 
 
 " He will founder," said he, "if something be not done to pre- 
 vent it. He must have more breath through his nostrils. There 
 is but one way to save him. Assist me to try it. We must haste, 
 for the bell is tolling with double violence to give warning that the 
 waters are near." 
 
 As he was speaking, he drew a cord from the pocket of his leath- 
 ern apron ; and, forming a running noose at one end of it, he drew 
 it tightly around the muzzle of the horse, just above the nostrils. 
 
 " Now," said he, handing the cord to Don Rafael. " First cover 
 the horse's eyes with your hankerchief ; and then hold the cord with 
 all your might." 
 
 While Don Rafael hastened to obey the directions, the muleteer 
 took a knife from his belt, and with a quick cut divided the tran- 
 sparent partition between the nostrils of the animal. The blood 
 gushed forth m copious jets ; and the horse, notwithstanding the 
 efforts of Don Rafael to hold him to the ground, reared up on his 
 hind legs, and struck forward with his hoofs. A hollow gurgling 
 noise came forth from his nostrils as the air rushed in through the 
 opening that had been made. 
 
 "Now," exclaimed the muleteer, "you need no longer fear for 
 his wind. Your horse can run as fast as his legs will carry him. 
 You will be saved if you are to be- saved." 
 
 " Your name," cried Don Rafael, sti^tchimr out his hand to the 
 jnuleteer ; " your name, that I may always keep it in remembrance." 
 
74 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " Valcrio Trujano, a poor arriero ; not very fortunate in his 
 
 affairs, but who consoles himself with the belief that he has done 
 his duty, and leaves the rest to God. Our lives are now in I lis 
 hands. Let us pray that lie may preserve them from the awful 
 danger that is before us." 
 
 Repeating these words with an air of solemnity, the muleteer 
 took off his hat, displaying to view a mass of black curling hair 
 Then kneeling upon the sand, he raised his eyes to heaven, and in a 
 voiee of prayer pronounced these words : — 
 
 " De profundi* clamavi ad te, Domine ! Domine, exaudi vocem 
 meam /" 
 
 While the muleteer was engaged in his devotion, the dragoon 
 tightened his girths for the last struggle ; and both at the same time 
 springing into their saddles, resumed the gallop that had been so 
 unfortunately interrupted. The damp, chill wind which preceded 
 the coming of the waters bore loudly to their ears the warning notes 
 of the bell — mingled with the sinister sounds that betokened the 
 approach of the inundation. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LAS PALMAS AND ITS PEOPLE. 
 
 The southern portion of the state of Vera Cruz, bordering on 
 Tehuantepec, exhibits a singular hydrographic system. A number 
 of great rivers, as the Rio Blanc, the Plaza Vicente, the Goazacoal- 
 cos, and the Papatoapan, with many of smaller note, form a com- 
 plete network over the country. Most of these rivers have their 
 sources in the Sierra Madre, and traversing the plains of the tierra 
 caliente, debouch into the Gulf of Mexico. 
 
 Every one has heard how profusely the rain falls in tropical coun- 
 tries during that period of the year known as the " rainy season." 
 It is the American winter of these southern latitudes, commencing 
 in the month of June, and ending in October. At this time the 
 waters of the rivers above mentioned, augmented by torrents of 
 rain falling daily, break over the boundaries of their channels, and, 
 free as the wild horses upon their banks, rush impetuously over the 
 surrounding plains. 
 
 Almost with the rapidity of a galloping steed, the yellow flood 
 rolls onward, as if impelled by the breath of a demon, carrying ter- 
 ror and desolation in its track. Woe to the living thing unable to 
 flee before its watery phalanx ! 
 
 The inundation proceeded simultaneously from the different 
 streams soon to become joined one to another ; and the waters now 
 spread over a vast tract of country, flow in a more tranquil cur- 
 rent. Thus united together, they form an immense sea, covering 
 the whole extent of the savannas ; upon the tranquil surface of 
 
7G TilE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 which may be seen the debris of their destructive violence, with the 
 carcasses of all sorts of animals. 
 
 In the country thus inundated a singular spectacle may at this 
 time be witnessed : villages completely surrounded by water, as if 
 bu iit upon islands; trees with their trunks submerged, their leafy 
 tops alone visible: can >es and large periaguas^ decked with flags 
 and filled with p< pie in their holiday suits, trying to outdo each 
 other in speed 01 elegance of adornment ; while groups of young 
 girls, gaily dressed and crowned with flowers, may be seen seated 
 in the boats, singing to the inspiriting accompaniment of the harp 
 or mandolin. * 
 
 Trie situation in which lb? hacienda of Las Pal mas stood had 
 been chosen with a view to provide against these annual floods. It 
 was upon the north side of a plain apparently boundless towards 
 the south, east, and west. The house sio.nl upon an eminence of 
 HO great elevation — a sort of outlying spur of a higher ridge that 
 backed it upon the north. It was isoluted, however, and at some 
 distance from the ridge, whose direction was eastward and west/ 
 •>vard. Tha hill upon which t c hacienda stool was one of those 
 singular eminences known in Spanish America by the name of m?.wi 
 (table.) Its flattop formed an oblong parallelogram, at one end of 
 which stood the dwelling-house, the other being occupied by the 
 store-houses and stables. These were Upon an extensive seal", all 
 enclosed within a wall of strong ma on work. In the same enclosure 
 were rows of chambers for the lodgment of the peons, vaqueroa, and 
 other retainers of the establishment. 
 
 The dwelling-house k standing upon the southern extremity of the 
 mesa, fronted towards the great plain. In its center a massive 
 double door opened into the court-yard, or patio ; and this entrance 
 was reached by a broad causeway, sloping upward with a gentle de- 
 clivity from the plain, and fenced along each edge by a parapet of 
 strong mason-work. Thus situated, the hacienda of Las Pal mas — 
 £0 named from the numerous tops of palm-trees which mottled the 
 plain in front — not only defied the flood, but might have served as 
 a fortress of no despicable strength. Thi proprietor of this dwell- 
 ing, as well as the extensive estate sui rounding it, was Don Mari 
 ano de Silva. 
 
 The bell of the hacienda had tolled the evening oracion, and the 
 tinkling of the ingelus was sounding the summons to prayer. At 
 that moment might be witnessed an interesting spectacle upon the 
 plain adjoining the dwelling of Don Mariano de Silva. The Indian 
 labou.er , who never worked a moment beyond the prescribed time, 
 
LAS PALMAS AND ITS PEOPLE. 77 
 
 at the first sound of the bell had all suddenly stopped as if struck 
 by paralysis. The pickaxe raised aloft, the spade half buried in the 
 earth, the goad lifted to prick forward the ox, fell simultaneously 
 from their hands ; while the oxen themselves, accustomed to imitate 
 their drivers, came at once to a stand, leaving the plough in the 
 lialf-fmished furrow. The vaqueros galloped straight to their stables 
 and unsaddled their horses; the peons came crowding in from the 
 fields; and while the plain was thus deserted the corral and out- 
 houses became crowded. 
 
 In the midst of this crowd women were seen hurrying to and fro, 
 carrying hot plates of comal, tortillas and chilccolorado, destined for 
 the evening repast. 
 
 The sun was vet shining brightly, and his last rays darted their 
 golden light through the iron bars and green trellis-work of the 
 windows of the hacienda. One, however, that looked eastward was 
 sheltered from his beams; and a traveller coming in that direction 
 might have observed that the lattice blind was raised up, and the 
 rich amber-coloured curtains were visible behind it, although par- 
 tially drawn. The window was at no great height from the ground, 
 in fact on the ground-floor itself; but the house standing upon the 
 pedastal of the mesa was elevated several feet above the level of 
 the plain, and a horseman, however high his horse", could not have 
 look into the chamber thus situated. 
 
 There was no traveller, however, in sight ; no one except some 
 belated labourers, who, through the luminous haze of the setting 
 sun, could be seen making their way towards the hacienda. 
 
 Any one who could have looked into this chamber would have 
 there beheld a scene of more than ordinary interest. Though a 
 mansion in the western world, the style and furnishing of the apart- 
 ment exhibited a certain character of orientalism : for Mexico has 
 long held traffic with the countries of the far East. 
 
 At that moment the chamber contained something of more inter- 
 est than even its rich furniture. Three young girls graced it by 
 their presence. Two of them were evidently sisters — judging by 
 the air of familiarity that existed between them, rather than by any 
 very marked personal resemblance. They were the daughters of 
 Don Mariano, the proprietor of the mansion. The third was sim 
 ply a servant — their waiting maid. 
 
73 THE TIGER-HUN TER. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A C.R E J. E T O I I. E T T E . 
 
 It is customary in Europe to accuse the Creole ladies of tropica] 
 America of the crime of indolence. This custom is common with 
 those who talk of woman and her political rights, anil who believe 
 that woman was created to share man's labors instead of soothing 
 them. He, however, who has looked upon these fair Creole 
 women and observed thqir tranquil repose of spirit— perhaps a cer- 
 tain sensualism, which only adds to their beauty — he, I say, who 
 has seen this, will be disposed.to look with a more lenient eye up- 
 on their so called iudoleirce, and will scarce believe it a crime. 
 
 The two daughters of Don Mariano De Silva offered at this mo- 
 ment, though in degrees somewhat different, cxamplcs'of this pecu- 
 liar characteristic of their countrywomen. One of them, with her 
 limbs crossed in the oriental fashion, was seated upon a Chinese 
 mat. Her long black hair, that had been plaited in several tn 
 and recently combed oat, still preserved the wavy outlines of tlu 
 plaits, as it fell profusely over her shoulders. 
 
 Perhaps there are no women in the world who take more pride 
 in their hair than do the Creoles of Spanish Ameiica. It is never 
 desecrated by the touch of the scissors ; and several hours of ev- 
 cry day are bestowed upon the dressing of it. For all this, trie 
 young girl in question, as she sit with her head pensively inclined,, 
 seemed to give but little thought to those luxuriant tresses that, un- 
 dulating over her white shoulders, lay in clusters upon the mat. 
 She appeared rather to deliver them up mechanically to the hands 
 of her attendant, who was occupied in arranging them. 
 
 The face encircled by these exuberant masses of glossy hair, pos 
 
A CREOLE TOILETTE. 79 
 
 sessed all the characteristics of the finest Creole beauty. Her fea- 
 tures, at once pmu I an I culm, denoted an ardent and anthusiastio 
 spirit habitually hidden under an expression of indolent serenity. 
 The elegance of the Spanish race was also manifest in her small 
 white hands, and in those little feet possessed by Mexican and 
 South American women of whatever class. Blue satin > 
 covered those of the young girl, otherwise nude: for stockings are 
 not a rigorous necessity of Creole costume. 
 
 The young lady thus described was Dona Gertrudis, the elder of 
 the two daughters of Don Mariano. - 
 
 The younger, Marianita, was scarce less beautiful, but her beauty 
 was of a different style. Quick-witted, and prone to laughter, her 
 sparkling glances formed a contrast to the calm yet brilliant gaze of 
 her sister; while the varying expressions passed as rapidly over her 
 countenance as the fleeting shadows of an April sky. With Dona 
 Gertrudis it was altogether different ; she resembled the volcanoes 
 of her country, with their perpetual fire hidden under a robe of 
 snow. 
 
 Neither of the young girls had reached the age of womanhood. 
 Gertrudis was only seventeen, while the other was a year and a half 
 younger. Both, however, had acquired that full development of 
 feminine beauty which tropical climate often calls forth at a much 
 earlier age. 
 
 V» hile the hair of Gertrudis was being arranged by her waiting 
 woman, Marianita was tying around her ankle the ribbons that 
 were to confine the tiny slipper upon her pretty little foot. 
 
 The grand political events at this time occurring had disturbed 
 the quietude of this family, as well as that of many others. There 
 were some probabilities, too, of there being a difference of opinion 
 among its members, for at the moment when our narrative com- 
 mences, a marriage was on the tcpis between a young Spaniard of 
 the neighbourhood and Dona Marianita. 
 
 Previous to the Mexican revolution, the most ardent wish of a 
 young Creole lady was to obtain for a husband some new arrival 
 from the mother country — Spain. Gertrudis, nevertheless, had 
 more than once declined this honour, which Marianita, as we have 
 seen, had accepted. Why d:d the Dona Gertrudis form an excep- 
 tion to the general rule 1 The sequel will show. 
 
 We have presented these two young girls in the act of making 
 their toilette; we may add that these preparations were in view of 
 the arrival of two gentleman who were that evening expected. One 
 was the young Spaniard, -the betrothed lover of Marianita j the 
 
80 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 other Don Rafael Tres-Villas, Captain in tlie Queen's Dragoons. 
 The former lived within less than two leagues of the hacienda Las 
 Palmas, and might he expected at any moment — the other, having 
 two hundred to travel, could scarce be looked for with -quai punc- 
 tuality; for although he had sent positive word that he would ar- 
 rive on that evening, it was reasonable to suppose that upon such a 
 long journey some incident might arise to derange his calculations. 
 Was this uncertainty the reason why Gertrudis had scarce com 
 menced making her toilet, while Marian ita had finished hers ? Was 
 Don Rafael the only man in whose eyes Gertrudis cared to appear 
 beautiful? We shall presently know. 
 
 One of lh" daily cares of a young Creole lady is to take down 
 the abundant plaits of her hair, and combing out the separate 
 tressesj leave fh un hanging over her shoulders, so that the air may 
 circulate freely among them. As s< on as the attendanl of Gertru- 
 dis, charged with this duty in the present instance, had accomplished 
 her task, she passed out of the chamber, and the two sisters were 
 left alone. 
 
 There are certain subjects of conversation which young girls, of 
 whatever country, love only to talk of between themselves, aud in 
 their own private apartment. 
 
 Scarce had th \ servant closed the door behind her, than Mariani- 
 ta — who had just finished placing some pomegranate flowers be- 
 hind her tortoiseshcll comb — glided eagerly towards the window. 
 On reaching it, she stood for some moments with her eyes bent in- 
 quiringly on the plain. Gertrudis had changed her oriental posture 
 for a seat upon a leathern fauteuil. After casting back, by an indo- 
 lent movement of her arms, the dark masses of her hair, she deliv- 
 ered herself up to a silent reverie. 
 
 " I have examined the plain with all my eyes," said Marianita, 
 after a while spent at the window; "it appears entirely deserted. 
 I cannot see a human creature upon if, much less Don Fernando, or 
 Don Rafael. Saatissima ! I fear I have had all this trouble for noth- 
 ing ; in half an hour it will be sunset."' 
 
 "You need not be uneasy. Don Fernando will come," said 
 Gertrudis, in a cairn voice. 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Marianita, "one might tell by the tone in 
 which you speak that you are not expecting your iiovio (betrothed), 
 as I am. My very impatience makes me despair of seeing him. 
 Ah! Gertrudis, you have never experienced the emotion of love." 
 
 " Were I in your place 1 should feel more chagrin than imp* 
 tience." 
 
A CREOLE TOILETTE. g£ 
 
 " Chagrin, oh ! no ; if Don Fernando don't choose to come thii 
 evening, he will lose the pleasure of seeing me in this beautiful 
 white dress which he admires so much, and with these purple pome* 
 granates in my hair, which I put in just to please him. For my 
 part I prefer the white blossoms of the orange ; but they say that a 
 woman when married must make some sacrifices, and 1 may as well 
 accustom myself to them. 
 
 In saying these words the young girl snapped her fingers together 
 till they cracked like castanets; while her countenance, instead of 
 expressing any very painful emotion, exhibited an air of perfect con- 
 tentment. 
 
 Gertrudis made no answer, except by a sigh, half-suppressed. She 
 sat motionless, with the exception of her foot, which kept balancing 
 upward and downward the little slipper of blue satin, while the 
 fresh breeze of the evening blowing in f om the window, caused a 
 gentle tremulous movement among the tresses of her hair. 
 
 "it's very tiresome — this country life," continued Marianitaj " it's 
 true one can pass the day by combing out one's hair, and taking a 
 siesta ; but in the evening, to have nothing else to do but walk in 
 the garden and listen to the sighing breeze, instead of singing and 
 dancing in a tertulia! Oh, it is wearisome — very, very wearisome, 
 I declare. We are here like the captive princesses in an Eastern 1 
 romance, which I commenced reading last year, but which I have not 
 yet finished. Santa Virgen ! 1 see a cloud of dust upon the horizon 
 at last — a horseman ! Que dicha! (what happiness !)" 
 
 " A horseman ! — what is the colour of his steed V inquired Ger- 
 trudis, suddenly aroused. 
 
 " Ha — ha ! As I live his horse is a mule — what a pity it was not 
 some knight-errant ! but I have heard that these fine gentry no longer 
 exist." 
 
 Gertrudis again sighed. 
 
 " Ah ! I can distinguish him now," continued Marianita. "It is 
 a priest who rides the mule. Well, a priest is better than nobody 
 — especially if he can play as well on the mandolin as the last one 
 that travelled this way, and stayed two days with us. Ho! He is 
 coining on a gallop — that's not a bad sign. But no! he has a very 
 grave, demure look. Ah ! he sees me ; he is waving a salute. 
 Well, 1 must go down and kiss his hand, I suppose." 
 
 Saying these words, the young Creole — whose education taught 
 her that it was her duty to kiss the hand of every priest who came 
 to the hacienda — pursed up her pretty rose-coloured lips in a saucy 
 mocking fashion. . 
 
82 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " Come, Gertrudis !" continued she; "come along with me. He 
 is just by the entrance gate !" 
 
 " Do you see no one upon the plain ?" inquired Gertrudis, not 
 appearing to trouble herself about the arrival of the priest. " No 
 other horseman — Don Fernando, for instance'?" 
 
 "Ah, yes!" answered Marianita, once more looking from the win- 
 dow. " Don Fernando transformed into a mule-driver, who is forcing 
 his recitci into a gallop, as if he wished the loaded animals to run a 
 race with one another! Why, the muleteer is making for the. 
 hacienda, as well as the; priest, and galloping like him, too \ What 
 on earth can be the matter with the people \ One would think that 
 they had taken leave of their senses !" 
 
 The clanging of bolts and creaking hinges announced the opening 
 of the great gate; and this, followed by a confused clatter of hoof- 
 strokes, told that the mule-driver with his train of animals was also 
 about to receive the hospitality of the hacienda. This circumstance, 
 contrary to all usage, somewhat surprised the young girls, who were 
 wondering why the house was being thus turned into an hostelry. 
 They were further surprised at hearing an unusual stir in the court- 
 yard — the servants of the establishment talking in a clamorous med- 
 ley of voices, and footsteps falling heavily on the pavements and 
 stone stairs leading up to the azotea of the building. 
 
 " Jesus !*' exclaimed Marianita, making a sign of the cross ; " is 
 the hacienda going to be besieged, 1 wonder? Mercy on us! I hope 
 the insurgent brigands may not be coming to attack us !*' 
 
 "Shame sister!" said Gertrudis, in a tone of calm reproaeh. 
 " Why i\o you call them brigands? — these men who are fighting for 
 their liberties, and who are led by venerable priests?" 
 
 " Why do I call them brigands ?" brusquely responded Marianita. 
 "Because they hate the Spaniards, whose pure blood runs in our 
 veins ; and because," continued she — the impetuous Creole blood 
 mounting to her cheek — " because /love a Spaniard !'' 
 
 "Ah!" replied Gertrudis, in the same reproachful tone; "you 
 perhaps only fancy you love him? In my opinion, sister, true love 
 presents certain symptoms which I don't perceive in you." 
 
 " And what matters if I do not love him. so long as he loves me ? 
 Am 1 not soon to belong to him? And why, then, should I think 
 different to what he does? No, no!" added the young girl, with 
 that air of passionate devotion which the women of her country 
 and race lavish without limits on those whom they love. 
 
 At this moment, (lie sudden unexpected strokes of the alarm-bell 
 breaking upon their ears interrupted the dialogue between the two 
 
A CREOLE TOILETTE. S3 
 
 sisters, putting an end to a conversation which promised to engender 
 ill-feeling between them — just as the "same topic had already caused 
 dissension in more than one family circle, breaking the nearest and 
 dearest lies of friendship and kindred. 
 
$4 THE TIGEK-1IUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE INUNDATION. 
 
 Just as Marianita was about to opon the door and inquire tho 
 cause of the tumult, the femme-de-chambre rushed into the room ; 
 and, without waiting to be questioned, cried out — 
 
 tl Ave Maria, senoritas / the inundation U coming! A vaquero 
 has just galloped in to say that the waters are already within a 
 league or two of the hacienda !" 
 
 "The inundation !" echoed both the sisters in a breath ; Marianita 
 repeating the sign of the cross, while Gertrudis bounded up from 
 the fauteuil, and, gathering her long hair around her wrists, rushed 
 toward the window. 
 
 "Jesus! senorita" cried the waiting-maid, addressing herself to 
 Gertrudis, " one would think you were going to leap down to the 
 the plain, as if to save some one in danger." 
 
 ' ; Don Rafael, God have pity on him !" exclaimed Gertrudis in a 
 tate of distraction. 
 
 '• Don Fernando !" cried Marianita, shuddering as she spoke. 
 
 tk The plain will soon be one great lake," continued the servant; 
 •• woe to them who may be caught upon it ! But as for Don Fer- 
 nando, you may make yourself easy, senorita. The vaquero who 
 Came in was sent by Don Fernando with a message to master, to 
 sav that he would be here in the morning in his bo 
 
 After delivering this intelligence the attendant retired, leaving 
 trie yuung girls once more alone. 
 
 '* Li a boat !" exclaimed Marianita, as soon as the servant had 
 gone out " Oh, Gertrudis !" she continued, suddenly passing from 
 
THE INUNDATION. §3 
 
 sadness to a transport of joy, " won't that be delightful ? We shall 
 sail upon the water in our state barge crowned with flowers, 
 and » 
 
 As Marianita turned round, her transport of frivolous egotism 
 was suddenly checked, as she saw her sister, with her long dark 
 tresses hanging dishevelled around her, kneeling in front of an image 
 of the Madonna. Giving way to a feeling of reproach, she also 
 knelt down and mingled her prayers with those of Gertrudis, while 
 the alarm-bell continued to peal forth to the four quarters of the 
 compass its notes of solemn and lugubrious import. 
 
 " Oh, my poor Gertrudis !" said she, taking her sister's hand in 
 her own, while her tears fell fast upon the glistening tresses ; " par- 
 don me if, in the fulness of my own joy, I did not perceive that 
 your heart was breaking. Don Rafael — you love him then ?" 
 
 "If he die I shall die too — that is all I know," murmured Ger- 
 trudis, with a choking sigh. 
 
 " Nay, do not fear, Gertrudis ; God will protect him. He will 
 send one of his messengers to save him," said the young girl, in the 
 simplicity of her faith ; and then returning, she mingled her prayers 
 with those of her sister, now and then alternating them with words 
 of consolation. 
 
 " Go to the window !" said Gertrudis, after some time had 
 passed. "See if there is yet any one upon the plain. 1 cannot, 
 for my eyes are filled with tears. I shall remain here." 
 
 And, saying these words, Gertrudis again knelt before the image 
 of the Virgin. 
 
 Marianita instantly obeyed the request, and, gliding across the 
 floor, took her stand by the open window. The golden haze that 
 had hitherto hung over the plain was darkening in a purple violet 
 colour, but no horseman appeared in the distance. 
 
 " The horse he will be riding," said Gertrudis at the moment in- 
 terrupting her devotions, "will be his bay-brown. He knows how 
 much I admire that beautiful steed — his noble war-horse that carried 
 him through all his campaigns against ihe Indians. I have often 
 taken the flowers from my hair to place upon the frontlet of the 
 brave bay-brown. Oh! Virgen Santissima ! O Jesus! sweet 
 Lord ! Don Rafael ! my beautiful ! my loved ! who will bring you 
 to me?" cried the young girl — her wild, passionate ejaculations 
 mingling with the words of her prayer. 
 
 The plain was every moment becoming less visible to the eye, as 
 the twilight deepened into the shadows of night, when nil at once 
 it was re-illuminated by the pale rays of the moon. Still no horse* 
 
gfl THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 man could bo seen either near or afar off — nothing but the tall, dark 
 palm-trees that stood motionless in the midst of the silent savanna. 
 
 " He has been warned in time," suggested Marianita, in hopes of 
 tranquillising her sister. " Most likely he will not have set out 
 to-day." 
 
 " Oh, no — no !" cried Gertrudis, wringing her hands in anguish* 
 "You are wrong. 1 know Don Rafael too well. I judge his heart 
 by my own. I am sure he would try and be here this very even- 
 ing. Another day would be too long for him. He would brave 
 every danger, if only to see me a few hours sooner — I know lie 
 would. I know he will be coming at this moment !" 
 
 Just then a noise as of distant thunder was heard mingling with 
 the metallic notes of the bell ; and simultaneous with this ominous 
 dialogue, between the hoarse muffled rumbling of the waters and 
 the lugubrious clanging, a sheen of reddish light was seen to gleam 
 suddenly over the moon-whitened plain, and, as it glared far into the 
 distance, illuminating the dark forms of the palm-trees. It was pre- 
 cceding from the beacon fires which Den Mariano had caused to be 
 kindled both on the platform of the hacienda and on the higher ridge 
 behind it — in hopes that their light might serve as a guide to thosu 
 who might be still wandering upon the plain. 
 
 Both the eye and the ear were thus warned of the threatening dan 
 ger; and, as the people moved around the blazing fires, their shad 
 ows, magnified to gigantic proportions, were projected far out upon 
 the savanna. 
 
 The moments passed slowly, amidst fearful and ominous soimds. 
 The muffled roar of the inundation was every instant heard more 
 distinctly, as the exasperated flood came rolling onward. Already 
 it resembled the noise of the loudest thunder, when the mass of 
 dense waters was seen glistening under the light of the fires, only a 
 few hundred paces distant from the western wall of the hacienda. 
 
 "Oh, sister!" cried Gertrudis, in a voice of despair, " look 
 again ! • Is no one in sight? O mercy !*' 
 
 Marianita still stood by the window, eagerly ^directing her glancf 
 over the plain, and endeavouring to penetrate the obscure gleam out 
 side the circle lighted by the glare of the fires. 
 
 "No — no one," replied she ; and then her tone suddenly chang- 
 ing into one of terror, she shrieked out "O mercy ! I see rvo 
 horsemen — yes; they are horsemen. Madre de Dios ! they are fly- 
 ing like the wind! Alas ! alas ! they will be too late.'' 
 
 As she spoke, loud shouts were heard from above — from the 
 izotea of the house — to which Don Mariano and a crowd of servants 
 
THE INUNDATION', £7 
 
 had ascended. Other men, mounted on horseback, galloped along 
 the terrace upon which the house stood, waving long lazoes around 
 their heads, and ready to fling them out as soon as the two travellers 
 should approach within reach. The men below were also uttering 
 load cries, unable to restrain their voices at the sight of the two 
 horsemen thus desperately struggling to anticipate the approach of 
 the mass of roaring waters. Already the flood was rushing forward 
 upon the walls of the hacienda, approaching like waves of fire under 
 the glare of flaming beacons. 
 
 The sisters within the chamber heard the cries, without seeing 
 those that gave utterance to them, or knowing ought of the move- 
 ments that were being made for rescuing the two horsemen from 
 their perilous position". 
 
 " Oh, Gertrudis !" cried Marianita, now leaning out from the win- 
 dow, and clinging convulsively to one of the iron bars, "come 
 hither and see them ! You can tell whether it be Don Rafael. I 
 do mjt know him. If it be he, your voice might encourage him." 
 
 " I cannot — 1 cannot 1" replied Gertrudis, in a voice quivering 
 with emotion. ' ; Oh, sister ! I dare not look upon such a spectacle. 
 'Tis he — too well my heart tells me it is he — oh, I can only pray for 
 him !" 
 
 " They are both mounted on dark-coloured horses. One of them 
 is a little man. He is in the costume of an arriero. That cannot be 
 Don Rafael !" 
 
 11 The other 1 the other ?" cried Gertrudis in a low but anxious 
 tone. 
 
 " The other," answered Marianita, " is a head taller than the first. 
 He sits his horse like a centaur. Now I can see his face distinctly. 
 He has a fine noble countenance, with black moustaches. There is 
 a band of gold laee on his hat. The danger does not appear to 
 alarm him. Ah ! he is a noble, handsome fellow." 
 
 " It is he!" cried Gertrudis, in a voice that could be heard high 
 above the melee of sounds. " Yes — it is Don Rafael !" she repeat- 
 ed, springing to her feet, as if with the intention of beholding him 
 once more before he should be engulfed in the flood of waters. 
 " Where, sister? where?"' she continued, gliding towards the win- 
 dow ; but before she had made three steps across the chamber, her 
 strength failed her, and she sank half-fainting upon the floor. 
 
 " Mercy !" exclaimed Marianita, half stupefied with terror. " Oh ! 
 Jesus Maria ! another bound of their horses, and they will be safe ! 
 Vcrff/a me Dios ! too late — too late ! there are the waters. Oh ! 
 their wild roar ! hear how they beat against the walls. Mother of 
 
88 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 God ! shield these brave men ! They hold one another by the hand ! 
 They bury their spurs in their horses' flanks! They ride forward 
 without fear! They advance upon the frothing flood, as if they 
 were charging an enemy ! Virgin of Paradise ! one of them, the 
 smaller, is actually ehaunting a hymn !" 
 
 In effect, at that moment the voice of a man was heard above the 
 rush of the waters, crying out in measured accents — 
 
 " In manu8 tuas. Dominic ! commendo animam tneam /" 
 
 " Merciful Father !" cried Marian ita, ** J see them no more. The 
 waters are over them both !" 
 
 For a moment a death-like silence reigned in the apartment, 
 broken only by the groaning of the waters, and the shouts of those 
 clustering upon the azotea without. 
 
 Gertrudis, prostrate amidst the tresses of her dishevelled hair, was 
 no longer able to give utterance to a word even in prayer. 
 
 The voice of Marianita once more aroused her. 
 
 "Now I see them again," continued she, "but no, only one! 
 .There is only one of them in the saddle. It is the taller one — he 
 with the moustache! The other is gone. No! I see him, but he is 
 dismounted, and borne off upon the flood. There! the other has 
 seized hold of him ! he raises him up, and draws him across his 
 horse. What a powerful arm the brave man must have — he lifts 
 the other like a child ! The horse too appears strong as his master! 
 How gallantly he breasts the flood with both men upon his back ! 
 What a strange sound comes from his nostrils ! Now they are 
 heading for the walls. Santissima Yirgeii ! will you allow this 
 brave cavalier to perish 1 he who overcomes that which has rooted 
 up the trees of the forest ?" 
 
 " Oh !" cried Gertrudis, recovering her strength, and speaking in 
 a burst of passionate pride ; " it is Don Rafael, I am sure ! No 
 other could perform such a deed !" 
 
 Her heart suddenly sank again, as she observed that her sister 
 once more spoke in a tone of anguish. 
 
 " Alas, alas !" cried Marianita, " an enormous tree is drifting to- 
 wards them ! Oh ! it will strike the horse ! they will be over- 
 whelmed by it." 
 
 " Angel, whose name he bears !" shrieked Gertrudis, " angel, pro- 
 tect him ! Virgin Mary, appease the rage of the waters, and shield 
 him from destruction ! Holy Virgin, save him, and I vow to sacri- 
 fice my hair for his life /" 
 
 This was the most precious ofTering the young Creole could think 
 of making to the Virgin, and as if the vow had been accepted, the 
 
THE INUNDATION. 89 
 
 voice of Marianita was at that moment heard in a more cheerful 
 tone. 
 
 "Blessed be God !" exclaimed she, "they will yet be saved ! A 
 dozen lazoes are around the tree. They have been thrown by peo- 
 ple from the house. Good ! the trunk no longer rolls onward. It 
 is eheek<>d and held by the ropes. The brave horseman might 
 easily mount upon it. But no! he will not abandon his noble 
 horse, nor the man he is holding in his arms. See, he is riding 
 around the tree, his brave steed plunging through the water with 
 all his strength. Once more he is breasting the flood — on — on — 
 ah! hear those shouts of triumph! He is up to the walls ! he is 
 saved !" 
 
 A loud triumphant cheer rising from below, and blending with a 
 similar cry that pealed along the roof of the hacienda, confirmed 
 the words of Marianita; and the two sisters rushing together be- 
 came locked in a mutual embrace. 
 
 " Ah, Gertrudis !" said Marianita, after a moment, " you have 
 vowed vour hair to the Virgin? your beautiful hair, worth a king- 
 dom !" " 
 
 " Yes," responded Gertrudis, " and, were it worth a world, I 
 should have given it all the same for the life of my noble Don Ra- 
 fael. Ah ! ves ; and he shall cut it from my head with his own 
 hands !" 
 
90 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE LAST OF THE ZAPOTEQCE8. 
 
 At no great distance- from the cascade already introduced to the 
 reader, there rises a little hill, with a flat or table-shaped top, as if 
 it had once been a cone, whose apex had been cut off by some freak 
 of nature. As already observed, such eminences are not uncommon 
 throughout the plains of America, where they are generally termed 
 mesas, or cerros de la mesa (table hills). The archaeologists of the 
 province, in speaking of the hill in question — which simply bore 
 th .■ name of Cerrode-la-mesa — declared it to be an ancient shrine 
 of the Zipoteques. Tradition says that a temple once stood upon 
 it; but, if so, it must have been constructed of very perishable 
 materials: since no ruin testifies to the truth of this tradition. 
 Costal, however, believed it, for the tigrero, though apparently a 
 Christianised Indian, was still a faithful believer in many of the 
 pagan rites of his fathers; and, influenced by a superstitious feeling, 
 he was in the habit of sleeping upon the summit of the Cerro-de-la- 
 mesa, whenever the necessities of his calling compelled him to 
 remain over night in that neighbourhood. A little hut which 'he 
 had constructed out of bamboos, with the broad leaves of bananas 
 thrown over it for thatch, served him sufficiently well for this occa- 
 sional and temporary shelter. 
 
 Costal had told Clara no more than the truth. He was descended 
 from the ancient Caciques of Tehuantepec ; and, while wandering 
 through the midst of the solitary savannas, the falling grandeur of 
 his ancient race was often the subject of his thoughts. Perfectly 
 indifferent to the political quarrels of the whites, he would have re- 
 garded the new insurrection of Hidalgo without the slightest inter* 
 
THE LAST OF THE ZAPOTEQUES. 01 
 
 est or enthusiasm ; but another motive had kindled within his 
 breast the hope that in the end he might himself profit by the rev- 
 olutionary movement, and that by the aid of the gold which he 
 vainly dreamt of one day discovering, he might revive in his own 
 person the title of Cacique, and the sovereignty which his ancestors 
 had exercised. The pagan doctrines in which he had been brought 
 up, the solitudes in which he dwelt while engaged in his calling of 
 tiger-hunter, the contemplation of the boundless sea, whose depths 
 he had often explored — for previous to his becoming a tigrero he 
 had long practised the perilous profession of a pearl diver — all these 
 circumstances had contributed to give to his character, a tone of 
 singular exaltation which bordered upon frenzy. 
 
 Visionary dreamer though he was, he had acquired as much 
 ascendancy over the negro Clara as ever Don Quixote had over his 
 squire. Sancho Panza. Nay more, for, unlike the Manchego gentle- 
 man, he might easily have persuaded his black associate that wind- 
 mills were giants; since the latter had already taken a captain in 
 the Queen's dragoons for the Siren with the dishevelled hair ! 
 
 About an hour after this incident we find the two adventurers upon 
 the summit of the C err o- de-la-mesa. Thither they had just trans- 
 ported the canoe of Costal, which, being a light craft, they had car- 
 ried up on their shoulders without much difficulty. They had 
 placed it keel upwards close to the wall of the bamboo hovel. 
 
 " Ouf !" grunted the negro as he sat down upon it. " I think we 
 have fairly earned a minute's rest. What's your opinion, Costal ?" 
 
 "Didn't you travel through the province of Valladolid 1" asked 
 the Indian without replying to Clara's idle question. 
 
 " Of course I did," answered the black. " Valladolid, Acupulco, 
 and several other of the south-western provinces. Ah, I know them 
 well — from the smallest path to the most frequented of the great 
 roads — every foot of them. How could I help knowing them ? for 
 in my capacity of mozo de mulcts, did I not travel them over and 
 over again with my master, Don Valliero Trujano, a worthy man, 
 whose service I only quitted to turn proprietor in this province of 
 Oajaca?" 
 
 Clara pronounced the word proprietor emphatically, and with an 
 important air. His proprietorship consisted in being the owner of 
 a small jacal, or bamboo hut, and the few feet of ground on which 
 it was built — of which, however, he was or.ly a renter under Don 
 Mariano de Silva. To the haciendado he hired himself out a part 
 of each year, during the gathering of the cochineal crop. The rest 
 of his time he usually passed in a sort of idle independence. 
 
92 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " Why clo }'ou ask me these questions ?" he added. 
 
 " I don't see," said Costal, speaking as much to himself as to his 
 companion, t; how we can enrol ourselves in the army of Hklalgo. 
 As a descendant of the Caciques of Tehuantepcc, I am not above 
 hiring myself out as a tiger-hunter ; but I can never consent to wear 
 a soldier's uniform/' 
 
 " And why not?" asked Clara. " For my part, I think it would 
 be very fine to have a splendid green coat with red facings, and 
 bright yellow trousers, like one of those pretty paroquets. I think, 
 however, we need not quarrel on that score. It's n t likely that the 
 Senor Hidalgo, though he is generalissimo of the American insur- 
 gent army, will have many uniforms to Spare ; and unless we enrol 
 ourselves as officers, which is not likely, I fear " 
 
 "Stay !" said Costal, interrupting him. " Why couldn't we act 
 as guides and scouts, since you know the country so well '? In that 
 capacity we could go and come as we pleased, and would haveevery 
 opportunity to search for the Siren with the dishevelled hair." 
 
 "But is the Siren to be seen everywhere?" naively inquired 
 Clara. 
 
 "Certainly ; she can appear at any place to her faithful worship- 
 pers, wherever there is a pool of water in which she can mirror her- 
 self, a stream or a cascade in which she may bathe herself, or in the 
 great sea where she searches for pearls to adorn her hair." 
 
 " And did you never see her when you were yourself a pearl-fisher 
 on the coast of the Gulf ?" 
 
 " Certainly I have," replied Costal ; " yes, more than once, too, I 
 have seen her at night; and by moonlight I have heard her singing 
 as she combed" out her shining hair and twisted long strings ot 
 
 o Do 
 
 pearls about her neck, while we could not find a single one. Sever- 
 al times, too, I have invoked her without feeling the slightest sen- 
 sation of fear, and in treated her to show me the rich pearl banks. 
 But it was all to no purpose ; no matter how courageous one is, the 
 Siren will not do anything unless there are two men present." 
 
 " What can be the reason of that?" inquired Clara. " Perhaps 
 her husband is jealous, and don't allow her to talk to one man 
 alone." 
 
 "The truth is, friend Clara," continued Costal, without congratu- 
 lating the negro on the cleverness of his conjecture, " 1 have not 
 much hopes of seeing her until after I am fifty years old. If 1 in- 
 terpret correctly the traditions I have received from my fathers, nei- 
 ther Tialoc nor Matlacuezc ever reveal their secrets to any man who 
 is less than half a century old. Heaven has willed it that from the 
 
THE LAST OF THE ZAPOTEQUES. 03 
 
 time of the conquest up to my day none of my ancestors has lived 
 beyond his forty-ninth year. I have passed that age ; and in me 
 alone can be verified the tradition of my family, which has been 
 passed down in regular succession from father to son. But there is 
 only one day In which it may be done : the day of full moon after 
 the summer solstice of the year, in which 1 am fifty. That is this 
 very year." 
 
 " Ah, then," said the negro, " that will explain why all our efforts 
 to invoke the Siren has proved fruitless. The time has not yet 
 come." 
 
 " Just so," said Costal. " It will be some months yet before we 
 can be certain of seeing her. But whatever happens we must start 
 to-morrow for Valladolid. In the morning we can go to the hacien- 
 da in our canoe, and take leave of our master Don Mariano as two 
 respectable servants ought to do." 
 
 " Agreed," said Clara ; " but are we not forgetting an important 
 matte i- ?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " The student whom the officer left near the tamarind trees ? 
 Poor devil ! he's in danger of being caught by the inundation." 
 
 " I had not forgotten him," rejoined Costal. " We can go that 
 way in the morning, and take him to the hacienda in the canoe 
 along with us — that is, if we still find him alive. J hope he will 
 have sense enough, before the flood reaches him, to climb into one 
 of the trees." 
 
 As Costal said tins, he rose from his seat, and glanced westward 
 over the plain. Already the hoarse murmur of the inundation was 
 making itself heard in the direction of the hacienda. 
 
 ' ; Listen !" said he, "to the growling of the waters. Carrambo! 
 Who knows if the officer himself has had time to escape 1 He 
 would have done better had he passed the night with us here. He 
 appeared so anxious about going on to the hacienda, Probably he 
 has his own private reasons for that; besides, I never thought of 
 asking him to stay 1 with us." 
 
 " Well," said Clara, " we may congratulate ourselves upon being 
 safe here ; but I feel rather hungry just now ; do you chance to have 
 a bit of tasajo in any corner of your cabin ? I could put up with 
 that and a drink of water." 
 
 "1 think I can manage to find a morsel or two," said Costal, going 
 inside the hut, whither he was followed by the negro. 
 
 A fire of dried stieks soon crackled upon the hearth, among the em- 
 bers of which, as soon as they had burnt to a certain degree of red- 
 
94 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 ness, Costal placed several pieces of jerked meat — which he had ta- 
 ken from a string suspended across the room. This species of 
 viands requires but a slight process of cooking ; and, as soon as it 
 was deemed sufficiently done, the two adventurers entered upon 
 their frugal repast which a keen appetite rendered palatable, if not 
 absolutely luxurious. 
 
 Supper over, they stretched themselves along the floor, and for a 
 time lay listening to the hoarse mutterings of the flood that every 
 moment grew louder and louder. To this, however, they paid but 
 little attention, having full confidence in the security of their eleva- 
 ted position ; and even the noise of the water as the great waves 
 came dashing against the hill did not hinder Costal from falling into 
 a profound slumber. The negro also fell asleep, but awoke from 
 time to time — fancying that he heard the screams of the jaguars 
 mingling with the confused surging of the waters! In truth it was 
 no fancy. What the negro heard was in reallity the. voices of the 
 savage creatures they had that evening encountered. On becoming 
 aware of the approach of the inundation, all four of them had made 
 for the Cerro-de-la-mesa ; but perceiving that its summit was already 
 occupied by the two men, they had halted by its base, and stood for 
 some moments growling their chagrin. The near approach of the 
 waters inspiring them with terror, started them oil' afresh ; and 
 bounding rapidly onward, they wece soon far distant from the hill, 
 fleeing at utmost *peed from the danger of the inundation, well un- 
 derstood even bv them. 
 
X CANOPY OF JAGUARS. 95 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A CANOPY OF JAGUARS. 
 
 Considering the circumstances in which he has been left, it is time 
 to return to the poor student of theology — Don Cornelio Lantejas. 
 "We left him sleeping in a hammock, between two great tamarind 
 trees; and certainly it must have been his good star that had con- 
 ducted him into that comfortable situation. 
 
 All at once lie awoke with a start — his slumber having been in- 
 terrupted by a chilly sensation that had suddenly crept upon him 
 On opening his eyes, he perceived that he was suspended over a 
 vast sea that rolled its yellow waves beneath his hammock, and 
 within six inches of his body! Atthis unexpected sight, a cry of 
 terror escaped him, and was instantly responded to by a growling, 
 sniffing noise, that appeared to proceed from the tops of the tama- 
 rinds over his In ad ! 
 
 As yet ho saw nothing there; but casting his eyes around, he per- 
 ceived that the whole country was under water sweeping onward ill 
 a frothy, turbulent current! 
 
 A moment's reflection sufficed to explain to him this singular phe- 
 nom 'lion; lie now remembered having heard of the great annual 
 inundation to which the plains -of Oajaca are subject, and which oc- 
 cur almost at a fixed day and hour; and this also explained the cir- 
 cumstances which had been mystifying him — the abandoned dwell- 
 ings, and the I oats suspended from the trees. He had arrived in 
 the midst of one of these great floods, which he might have shunned 
 but for the slow and gentle gait at which his cavallo o'c picador had 
 carried him along the route. 
 
 What was he to do? lie scarce know how to swim. But even 
 
89 THE TIGER-HUNTF.SU 
 
 had he been as accomplished in the art of natation as a pearl-dive? 
 himself, if would not have availed him in the midst of that im- 
 mense sheet of water, on ail sides apparently stretching to the lim- 
 its of the horizon ! 
 
 His situation, sufficiently unpleasant on account of the danger of 
 sing Inundation, soon became absolutely frightful from another j 
 and a very different reason. 
 
 Some shining objects, which appeared to him among the leaves of 
 the tamarinds, and that looked like burning coals, just then caught 
 his glance ; and a closer scrutiny convinced him that these could be 
 no other than the eyes of some fierce animals that had taken refuge 
 upon the trees — jaguars, no doubt: since he could think of no oth- 
 er creatures that could have climbed up the smooth trunks of the 
 tamarinds ! 
 
 His terror was now complete. Beneath rushed the surging wa- 
 ters, lie knew not how soon they might mount higher and eiv 
 gulph him — for the flood might still be far from its maximum 
 height! On the other hand, he dared not climb upwards, llni 
 fierce animals in the tree would be certain to dispute his ascentj 
 even should they feel disposed to leave him unassailed where ha 
 was ! 
 
 In this horrid state of uncertainty — dreading the double danger if 
 he was compelled to pass the remainder of the night. 
 
 We need not detail the unpleasant reflections to which his situa- 
 tion gave rise: for a volume would scarce contain the thousand al- 
 ternations from hope to fear that passed through his spirit before the 
 light of the morning broke upon his longing eyes. 
 
 Though he had longed for the morning to come, the daylight did 
 not add much to the joyfulness of his situation. The animals, 
 whose glancing orbs had kept him all night in a state of apprehen- 
 sion, were now plainly seen among the branches of the trees. They 
 were jaguars — four of them — two large ones, and two others of 
 smaller size, or cachorros. This was not all that Don Cornelio saw 
 to alarm him. In addition to the fierce quadrupeds, the tops of the 
 tamarinds were occupied by other living creatures of equally fright- 
 ful aspect. These were reptiles : large serpents of hideous appear- 
 ance twined spirally round the branches, with their heads projecting 
 outwards, and their forked tongues glistening beyond their teeth ! 
 
 The terrified student cast, an inquiring glance over the waters, to 
 see if there was no means of escape from his perilous position. He 
 saw only the bubbling surface, here and there mottled with huge 
 uprooted trees, upon tthich appeared wolves and other wild animals' 
 
A CANOPY Ob' JAGUARS. 97 
 
 half dead with affright. High overhead, eagles, vultures, and other 
 birds of prey wheeled in circles through the air, uttering their 
 piercing cries — fit accompaniment to this scene of desolation and 
 drain. 
 
 Don Cornelio again turned his eyes towards the fierce jaguars 
 crouching among the branches of the trees. These brutes appeared 
 to struggle against the ferocious instincts of their nature, which 
 prompted them to sieze hold of a prey almost within reach of their 
 claws. Fear fortheir own lives alone prevented them from taking that 
 of the student; and at intervals they closed their eyes, as if to es- 
 cape the temptation caused by his presence! 
 
 At the same time the serpents, not far above his face, kept con- 
 tinually coiling their long viscous bodies round the branches, and 
 rapidly uncoiling them again — equally uneasy at the presence of the 
 man and the tigers. 
 
 Mechanically closing the folds of the hammock over him, and 
 thus holding them with both hands, the student lay perfectly still. 
 He feared cither to speak or make a motion, lest his voice or move- 
 ment might tempt either the reptiles or quadrupeds to make an 
 attack upon him. 
 
 In this way more than an hour had passed, when over the surface 
 of the waters, which now (lowed in a more tranquil current, Don 
 Cornelio fancied he heard a singular sound. It resembled the notes 
 of a bugle, but at times the intonation was hoarser and more grave, 
 not unlike a certain utterance of his two formidable neighbours 
 which from time to time the student heard swelling from the tops 
 of the tamarinds. 
 
 It was neither more nor less than the conch of Costal; who mak- 
 ing his way towards the spot in his canoe, was employing the time 
 to advantage in endeavoring to invoke the goddess of the waters. 
 
 Presently the student was able to make out in the distance the 
 little canoe gliding over the water, with the two adventurers seated 
 in the. stem and stern. At intervals, the Indian, accustomed to this 
 sort of navigation, was seen to drop his oars and hold the shell to 
 his mouth. Lantejas then saw that it was from this instilment the 
 sounds that had so puzzled him were proceeding. 
 
 Absorbed in their odd occupation, neither Costal nor Clara had 
 as yet perceived the student of theology — hidden as he was by the 
 thick network of the hammock, and almost afraid to make the 
 slightest movement. Just then, however, a muflled voice, as of 
 some one speaking from under a mask, reached their ears. 
 
 "Did you hear anything, Costal?" inquired the negro. 
 
98 THE TIOE-KH INTER. 
 
 "Yes, I heard a sort of cry," replied Costal; "like enough it's 
 the poor devil of a student w ho is calling us. Carrambo ! where 
 can he be ? I see only a hammock hung between two trees. Eh ! 
 as I live, he is inside it. Corral!'''' 
 
 As Costal finished speaking, a loud peal of laughter burst from 
 his lips, which to him in the hammock appeared like heavenly 
 music. It told him that the two men had discovered his situation ; 
 and the student at once fervently returned thanks to God for this 
 interposition of 1 lis mercy. 
 
 Clara was sharing the mirth of the Indian, when music of a very 
 different sort stilled the laugh upon his lips. It was the cry of the 
 jaguars, that, suddenly excited by the voice of the student, had all 
 four of them sent forth a simultaneous scream. 
 
 ■' Carrambo!" exclaimed Clara, with a fresh terror depicted upon 
 his face : " the tigers again." 
 
 "JJather strange!" said the Indian. "Certainly their howls 
 appeared to come from the same place as the voice of the man. 
 1'ola! Senor student," he continued, raising his voice, so as to he 
 heard by him in the hammock, M are you making your siesta alone, 
 or have you company under the shad.' of the tamarinds .'"' 
 
 Don Cornel io attempted to reply, but his speech was unintelligible 
 both to the Indian and the negro. In fact, terror had so para 
 his tongue, as to render him incapable of pronouncing his words 
 distinctly ! 
 
 For a moment his arm was seen elevated above the folds of the 
 hammock, as if to point out his terrible neighbours upon the tree. 
 But the thick foliage still concealing the jaguars from the eye of 
 Costal, rendered the gesture of the student as unintelligible as his 
 cry. 
 
 "For the love of God, hold your oar!'' cried Clara; "per- 
 haps the tigers have taken refuge on the top of the tamarind.-!"' 
 
 "All the more reason why we should get up to them." replied 
 the Indian. "Would you leave this young man to smother in his 
 hammock till the waters had sul sided V 
 
 In saying this, Costal plied his oars more vigorously than ever; 
 and, in spite of the remonstrances of his companion, headed the 
 canoe in a direct line towards the hammock. 
 
 "If these be the same tigers we encountered yesterday," said 
 Clara in an anxious tone of voice, " and I am almost sure they are, 
 by the mewing of their whelps, think for a moment, Costal, how 
 desperately spiteful they will be against us." 
 
 " And do you think I am not equally spiteful against them ?" re- 
 
THE STL - DENT RESCUED. 9& 
 
 plied Costal, urging his canoe onwards with more rapiJity than 
 
 ever. 
 
 A few strokes of the paddle brought the light craft within gun- 
 shot distance of the tamarinds; and now for the first time did Cos- 
 tal obtain a good view of the theological student couched within the 
 hammock — where he appeared to be indolently reposing, like some 
 Oriental satrap, under a dais of tigers and serpents ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE STUDENT RESCUED. 
 
 The odd spectacle once more overcame the gravity of the Indian; 
 and, resting upon his oars, he delivered himself up to a renewed 
 spell of laughter. 
 
 Through the network of the hammock the student could now note 
 the movements of those who were coming to his rescue. lie saw 
 the Indian turn towards his companion, pointing at the same time 
 to the singular tableau among the tops of the trees, which the negro 
 appeared to contemplate with a countenance that betrayed an anx- 
 iety equal to his own. 
 
 Don Cornelio could not make out what there was to laugh at in 
 a spectacle that for two mortal hours — ever since daybreak — had 
 been causing him the extreme of fear ; but, without saying a word, 
 he waited for the explanation of this ill-timed hilarity. 
 
 '' Let us get a little farther off !" stammered the negro ; " we can 
 deliberate better what we should do." 
 
 '• What we should do !" cried Costal, now speaking seriously ; " it 
 needs no deliberation to tell that." 
 
 " Quite true," assented Clara, " it does not. Of course we should 
 push off a little ; and the sooner we do it the better." 
 
 " Bah !" exclaimed Costal, " that's not what I meant ;" as he spoke 
 coolly laying his paddle in the bottom of the canoe, and taking up 
 his carbine. 
 
 " But what are you going to do ?" anxiously asked Clara. 
 
 '* For Bios! to shoot one of the jaguars; what else? You shall 
 see presently. Keep yourself quiet, Senor student," he continued- 
 speaking to Don Cornelio, who still lay crouched up within the ham- 
 mock, and who, from very fear, could neither speak nor move. 
 
 At this moment on? of the jaguars uttered a growl that caused 
 
100 Til E T I U E II- 11 UN TER. 
 
 the blood to run cold through the veins o*" Clam. At the same time 
 the fierce creature was seen tearing the bark from the tamarind with 
 his curving claws; while, with mouth agape, and teeth set, as if in 
 menace, he fixed his fiery eyes upon Costal, who was nearest to him. 
 His angry glance had no terrors for the tigrero, who, gazing firmly 
 back upon the fierce brute, appeared to subdue him by some power 
 of fascination. * 
 
 Costal now raised the carbine to his shoulder, took deliberate aim, 
 and fired. Almost simultaneously with the report, the huge animal 
 came tumbling down from the tree, and fell with a dull, dead plash 
 upon the water, it was the male. 
 
 " Quick, Clara !" cried the Indian. "A stroke of the paddle- 
 quick, or we shall have the other upon us !"' 
 
 And, as Costal spoke, he drew his long knife to be ready for de- 
 fending himself. 
 
 Anxious as the negro was to get out of the way, and making all 
 the haste in his power, his fears had so unnerved him that his efforts 
 were in vain. The female jaguar, furious at the death of her mate, 
 and anxious for the safety of her whelps, stayed only to utter one 
 savage yell ; and then, bounding downward from the branches, she 
 launched herself upon the student. The hammock, however, oscil- 
 lating violently to one side, caused her to let go her hold, and mak- 
 ing a second spring, she dropped down into the canoe. The weight 
 of her body, combined with the impetus which her anger had given 
 to it, at once capsized the little craft ; the Indian, negro, and jaguar 
 went all together under water ! 
 
 In a second's time all three reappeared on the surface — Clara 
 half- frightened out of his senses, and striking out with all the ener- 
 gy of despair. 
 
 Fortunately for the negro, the old pearl-diver could swim like a 
 shaik; and, in the twinkling of an eye,' the latter had darted be- 
 twixt him and the jaguar — his knife slung between his clenched 
 teeth. 
 
 The two adversaries, now face to face, paused for a instant as if 
 to measure the distance between them. Their eyes met — those of 
 the tiger-hunter expressing coolness and resolution, while the orbs 
 of ilie jaguar rolled furiously in their sockets. 
 
 All at once the hunter was seen to dive ; and the jaguar, aston- 
 ished at the sudden disappearance of her enemy, paused, and for a mo- 
 ment balanced herself in the water. Then turning round, she com- 
 menc d swimming back towards the tree upon which she had left 
 her young ones. 
 
THE STUDENT RESCUED. 101 
 
 Before reaching it, however, she was seen to struggle^ 'and sink 
 partially below the surface — as if sora^whir^j^Jdl'wjte sucking her 
 underneath ; then rising up again, she v tUr:i?d overtoil 'kh ''W, f k,> and 
 floated lifeless down the current. A long red gash appeared freshly 
 opened in her belly ; and the water around was fast becoming tir.ged 
 with the crimson stream that gushed copiously from the wound. 
 
 The Indian, in turn, came to the surface ; and, after casting a look 
 around him, swam towards the canoe — which the current had already 
 carried to some distance from the trees. Overtaking it, he once 
 more turned the craft deck upwards ; and, mounting aboard, pad- 
 dled back towards the student. 
 
 Lantejas had not yet recovered from the surprise with which the en- 
 counter, as well as the audacious sangfroid exhibited by the tiyrcro, 
 had inspired him, when the latter arrived underneath ; and with the 
 same blade with which he had almost, disembowelled the tiger, 
 opened the bottom of the hammock by cutting it lengthwise. By 
 this means he had resolved on delivering the student more easily 
 than by endeavouring to get him out over the edge. 
 
 At that moment was heard the voice of Clara, still swimming 
 about in the water. 
 
 " The skins of the jaguars !" cried he ; " are you going to let them 
 be lost? They are worth twenty dollars, Costal !" 
 
 "Well, if they are,'* replied the Indian, " swim after and secure 
 them. I have no time to spare," added he, as he pulled Lantejas 
 through the bottom of the hammock, and lowered him down into 
 the canoe. 
 
 " Dios me UbreP' responded Clara; " I shall do nothing of the 
 kind. Who knows whether the life's quite out of them yet ? They 
 may go to the devil for me! Heigh! Costal! paddle this way, 
 and take me in. I have no desire to go under those tamarinds — 
 laced as they are by half a mile of rattlesnakes." 
 
 " Get in gently, then !" said Coital, directing the canoe towards- 
 the negro. "Gently, or you may capsize us a second time." 
 
 " Jesus God !" exclaimed Don Corneho, who now for the first time 
 had found the power of speech ; "Jesus God !" he repeated, seeing 
 himself, not without some apprehension, between two strange beings 
 — the one red, the other black — both dripping with water, and their 
 hair covered with, the yellow scum of the waves ! 
 
 " Eh ! Senor student," rejoined Clara, in a good humoured way, 
 "is that all the thanks you give us for the service we have don» 
 you." 
 
 " Pardon me, gentlemen'- stammered out Don Cornelio "I wa* 
 
1)2 THE, TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 dreadfully frightened. ' 'I "have , every reason to be thankful to 
 
 you.",. s.j € e| £;«•« I : ' ' '• 
 
 Ana*/ his eonvHTe'nee 'now' "restored, the student expressed, in fit 
 . his warm gratitude; and finished his speech by congratula- 
 ting the Indian on his escape from the dangers he had encountered, 
 
 " By my faith ! it is true enough," rejoined Costal, "I have run 
 some little danger. 1 was ail of a sweat; and this cursed water 
 coining down from the mountains as cold as ic€ — Oarrambo! I 
 shouldn't wonder if I should geta bad cold from the ducking." 
 
 The student listened with astonishment to this unexpected decla- 
 ration. The man whose fearful intrepidity he had just witnessed to 
 be thinking only of the risk he ran of getting a cold ! 
 
 " Who are you ?*' he mechanically inquired. 
 
 " I ?" said Costal. kt Well, I am an Indian, as you see — a Zapo- 
 teque — formerly tigrero of Don Matias de la Zanca ; at present in 
 the service of Don Mariano de Siiva — to morrow, who knows?" 
 
 '•Don Matias de la Zanca !" echoed the student, interrupting him. 
 ' ; why, that is my uncle !"' 
 
 " Oh !" said Costal, : ' your uncle ! Well, Senor student, if you 
 wish to go to his house 1 am sorry I cannot take you there, since it 
 ii ss up among the hills, and could not be reached in a canoe. But 
 perhaps you have a horse !" 
 
 •" 1 had one; but the flood his carried him off, I suppose. No 
 mitter. I have goo 1 reasons for not regretting his loss." 
 
 " Well," rejoined Costal, " your best way will be for you to go 
 with us to the Hacienda las Palmas. There you will get a steed 
 that will carry you to the house of your uncle. But first," added 
 h •, turning his eves toward the tamarinds, "I must look after my 
 cirbine, which has been spilled out of the canoe. It's too good a 
 r m to be thrown away; and I can say that it don't miss fire once 
 in ten times. It should be yonder, where the brute capsized us; 
 aid with your permission, Senor student, I'll just go in search of it. 
 lio, Clara! pillle us back under the hammock !" 
 
 Clara obeyed, though evidently with some reluctance. The hiss- 
 ihg of the serpents still sounded ominously in his ears. 
 
 On arriving near the snot where el turned over, Cos- 
 
 t.-d stood up in the bow ; and then raising his hands, and joining 
 them above his h ;ad, he plunged once more under the water. 
 
 For a long time the spectators saw nothing of him; but the bub- 
 bles here, and there rising to the surface, showed where he was en- 
 g.i'd in searching for his incomparable carbine. 
 
 length his head appeared above water, then his whole body. 
 
tut: student rescued. 103 
 
 He held the gun tightly grasped in one of ms nands, and making a 
 few strokes towards the c noe he once more climbed aboard. 
 
 Costal now took liol ! of the paddle; and turning tlic head of the 
 canoe in a westerly direction commenced making way across the 
 turbid waters towards th • Hacienda las Palmas. 
 
 Although the fury of the inundation had by this timo partially 
 subsided, still the flood ran onward with a swift current; and what 
 with the danger from floating trees, and other objects that swelled 
 the surface of the wate -, it was necessary to man; g ■ the canoe with 
 caution. Thus retarde I, it was near mid-day before the voyageurs 
 arrived within sight of trite hacienda. Along the way Don Cornelio 
 had inquired from his new companions, what strange accident had 
 conducted them to the spot where they had found him. 
 
 " Not an accident," said Costal; "but a horseman, who appeared 
 to be in a terrible hurry himself, as For Dios ! he had need to be. 
 He was on his way to.the house of Don Mariano, for what purpose 
 I can't say. It remains to be known, Serior student, whether he has 
 been as fortunate as you, in escaping the flood. God grant that he 
 has ! for it would be a sad pity if such a brave young fellow was to 
 die by drowning. Brave men are not so plentiful." 
 
 " Happy lor them who are brave !" sighed Don Cornelio. 
 
 " Here is my friend, Clara," continued Costal, without noticing 
 the rejoinder of the student, "who has no fear of man ; and yet he 
 is as much afraid of tigers as if he were a child. Well, I hope we 
 shall find that the gallant young officer has escaped the clanger, and 
 is now safe within the walls of the hacienda." 
 
 At that moment the canoe passed round a tope of half-submerged 
 palm trees, and the hacienda itself appeared in sight, as if suddenly 
 rising from the bosom of the waters. A cry of joy escaped from 
 the lips of the student who, half famished with hunger, thought of 
 the abundance that would be found behind those hospitable walls. 
 
 While gazing upon them a bell commenced to toll ; and its tones 
 fell upon his ears like the music of birds, for it appeared as if sum- 
 moning the occupants of the hacienda to pass into the refectory. It 
 was, however, the angelus of noon. 
 
 At the same instant two barges were seen parting from the cause- 
 way that led down in front, and heading towards the high ridge that 
 ran behind the hacienda, at a little distance on the north. In the 
 first of these boats appeared two rowers, with a person in a travel- 
 ing costume of somewhat clerical cut, and a mule saddled and 
 bridled. In the second were two gentlemen and the same number 
 of ladies. The latter were young girls, both crowned with luxu* 
 
104 
 
 TnE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 riant chaplets of flowers, and each grasping an oar in her white 
 delicate fingers, which she managed with skill and adroitness. They 
 were the two daughters of Don Mariano de Silva. One of the gen 
 tlemcn was Don Mariano himself, while the other was joyfully re 
 cognised by Costal as tiie brave officer who had asked him the way. 
 and by the student as his compagnon du voyage of yesterday — Don 
 Rafael Tres-Villas. 
 
 Shortly after, the two boats reached the foot of the Sierra; and 
 the traveller with the mule disembarked. Mounting into his sad- 
 dle, he saluted those who remained in the other boat; and then rode 
 away, amidst the \yords oft repeated by Don Mariano and his 
 daughters — 
 
 "A dios ! a dios! Senor Morelos ! a dios /" 
 
 The two barges now returned toward the hacienda, arriving there 
 nearly at the same time as the canoe which carried the student of 
 theology, the Indian, and the negro. 
 
 Don Cornelio had now a better opportunity of observing the rich 
 frieght carried in the larger of the two boats. The drapery of pur- 
 ple silk which covered i lie seats and fell over the sides of the barge, 
 threw its brilliant reflections far out upon the water. In the midst 
 of this brilliance appeared the young ladies, seated and bending lan- 
 guidly upon their oars. Now and then Marianita, in plunging her 
 oar-blade into the water, caused the pomegranate flowers to rain 
 down from her hair, as she shook them with bursts of laughter; 
 while Gertrudis, looking from under the purple wreath, ever and 
 anon cast stealthy glances at the cavalier who was seated by the side 
 of her father. 
 
 "Senor Don Mariano!" said Costal, as the barge drew near, 
 "'here is a guest whom I have taken the liberty to bring to your 
 hospitable mansion." 
 
 As the Indian delivered this speech he pointed to the student of 
 theology still seated in the canoe. 
 
 " He is welcome T' rejoined Don Mariano; and then inviting the 
 stranger to. disembark, all except Costal, Clara, and the servants, 
 landed from the boats, and passed out of sight through the front 
 gateway of the hacienda. 
 
 These taking the boats around the battlements of the bunding 
 entered the enclosure by a gate that opened towards the rear. 
 
RAFAEL AND GERTRUDIS. 103 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 RAFAEL AND GERTRUDIS. 
 
 As already stated, Don Luis Tres- Villas, the father of Don Ra- 
 fael, was a Spaniard. He was one of those Spaniards, however, 
 who from the first had comprehended the necessity of making lib- 
 eral political concessions to the Creoles — such as those accorded to 
 them by the enlightened Don Jose lturrigaray. Even the interest 
 of Spain herself demanded these reforms. 
 
 Don Luis, himself an officer in the viceregal guard, had been one 
 of the most devoted partisans of lturrigaray ; and when the latter 
 was arrested by the more violent Gachupinos and sent prisoner to 
 Spain, Tres-Villas saw that all ties of attachment between Spaniards 
 and Creoles had been severed by the act ; and that an open rupture 
 was at hand. Unwilling to take part against the native people, Don 
 Luis had thrown up his commission as captain in the viceregal 
 guards, left the capital, and retired to his estate of Del Valle. 
 
 This hacienda was situated on the other side of the ridge that 
 bounded the plain of Las Palmas on the north, and about two 
 leagues distant from the dwelling of Don Mariano de Silva. These 
 two gentlemen had met in the metropolis.; and the slight acquaint- 
 ance there initiated had been strengthened during their residence in 
 the country. 
 
 On receiving the news of Hidalgo's insurrection, Don Luis had 
 sent an express messenger to his son Don Rafael, summoning them 
 to the Hacienda Del Valle. In obedience to the order of his father, 
 the young captain of dragoons, having obtained leave of absence 
 from his regiment, was on his way thither, when he overtook upon 
 
106 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 the road the student of theology. Nevertheless, Don Rafael had 
 not deemed the order of his father so pressing as to hinder him from 
 passing a day at the hacienda of Las Palmas, which lay directly in 
 the route to that of Del Valle. This, therefore, he had determined 
 upon doing. 
 
 A word about the antecedents, which led to the resolve on the 
 part of the dragoon captain. 
 
 In the early part of the proceeding year Don Mariano de Silva 
 had passed three months in the Mexican metropolis, lie had been 
 accompanied by his daughter Gertrudis — Marianita remaining in 
 Oajaca with a near relative of the family. In the tertulias of the 
 gay capital the fair Oujaqueaa had met the dashing captain of dra- 
 goons, and a romantic attachment had sprung up between them, 
 mutual as sincere. To this there could be no objection by the par- 
 ents on either side : since there was between the two lovers a com- 
 plete conformity in age, social position, and fortune. In all likeli- 
 hood the romance of courtship would soon have ended in the more 
 prosaic reality of marriage ; but- just at that time the young officer 
 was ordered upon some military service; and Don Mariano was 
 also suddenly called away from the capital. The marriage cere- 
 mony, therefore, that might otherwise have been expected to take 
 place, thus remained unconsummated. 
 
 It is true that up to this time Don Rafael had not formally de- 
 clared his passion to the young Creole; but it is probable that she 
 knew it without any verbal avowal ; and still more that she fully 
 reciprocated it. Neither had Don Mariano been spoken to upon the 
 matter : the captain of dragoons not deeming it proper to confer 
 with him till after he had obtained the consent of Gertrudis. 
 
 After the separation of the two lovers, by little and little Don 
 Rafael began to doubt whether his passion had been really returned 
 by the fair Oajaquena. Time and absence, while they rendered more 
 feeble the remembrance of those little incidents that had appeared 
 favourable to him, increased in an inverse ratio, the impression of 
 the young Creole's charms — that in fancy now appeared to him only 
 the more, glowing and seductive. So much did this impression be- 
 come augmented, that the young officer began to. think he had been 
 too presumptions in aspiring to the possession of such incompara- 
 ble loveliness. 
 
 His cruel doubts soon passed into a more cruel certainty ; and he 
 no longer believed that his love had been returned. 
 
 In this state of mind he endeavoured to drive the thoughts of 
 Gertrudis out of his head : by saying to himself that he had never 
 
RAFAEL AND GERTRUDIS. 1C7 
 
 loved her ! Bat this attempt at indifference only proved how strongly 
 the sentiment influenced him; and the result was to force him into 
 an ' : . - oly, habi 
 
 lier-priest 
 
 HI J . i tl an revolution. Im- 
 
 •■ li'i : itted to him 
 
 e — know- 
 [] I 1 ":; Mariano de 
 laucipation of their 
 hus sure of the approbation of all for whom he had 
 reverence or affection — Den Rafael determined to offer his sword to 
 the cause of Independence. He hoped under the banners of the in 
 sarrection to get rid of the black chagrin that was devouring his 
 spirit ; or if not, he desired that in the first encounter between the 
 royalist and insurgent troops, death nvght deliver him from an ex- 
 istence that was no longer tolerable. 
 
 At this crisis came the messenger from Del Valle. The message 
 was simply a summons to his father's presence that he might learn 
 from him some matters that were of too much importance either to be 
 trusted to paper or the lips of a servant. The young officer easily 
 conjectured the object for which he was summoned to Oajaca. Know- 
 ing his fathers political leanings, he had no doubt that it was to 
 counsel him, Don Rafael, to offer his sword to the cause of Mexican 
 Independence. 
 
 The message, however significant and mysterious, partially re- 
 stored the captain of dragoons to his senses. In the journey he was 
 necessitated to make, he saw there might be an opportunity of 
 sounding the heart of Gertrudis, and becoming acquainted with her 
 feelings in regard to him. For this purpose he had determined up- 
 on frankly declaring his own. In fine, he had half resolved to re- 
 nounce those chivalric sentiments, that had hindered him from open- 
 ing the affair to Don Mariano without the consent of Gertrudis. So 
 profound had his passion become, that he would even have prefer- 
 red owing to filial obedience the possession of her he so devotedly 
 loved, than not to possess her at all. 
 
 Influenced by such ideas, no wonder that with feverish ardour he 
 rushed over the hundred leagues that separate Mexico from Oajaca; 
 and it was for this reason he was willing to risk the danger of per- 
 ishing in the flood rather than not reach the Hacienda las Palmas, 
 on the evening he had appointed to be there. 
 
 It may be mentioned that in sending back the messenger of his 
 father, he had charged the man to call at the hacienda of Las Pab 
 
108 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 mas and inform its proprietor of his — Don Rafael's — intention to 
 demand there the hospitality of a night. Having calculated the 
 exact time he might he occupied on his journey, he had named the 
 day, almost the very hour, when he might be expected. Without 
 knowing the importance which the young dragoon attached to this 
 visit, Don Mariano was but too gratified to have an opportunity of 
 showing politeness to the son of a gentleman who was at the same 
 time his neighbour and friend. 
 
 With regard to the sentiments of Gertrudis, they are already 
 known to the reader. What would not Don Rafael have given to 
 been equally well acquainted with them ! Ah ! could he have 
 known the secret pleasure with which his arrival was expected — tho~ 
 ardent prayers, and that sacrificial vow registered in his favour, at 
 the moment when he was struggling with danger — could he have 
 known all this, it would have at once put an end to his melan- 
 choly ! 
 
 At this time the insurrection was just beginning to make some 
 stir at Oajaca. On throwing off the mask, Hidalgo had dispatched 
 secret agents to the different parts of Mexico, in hopes that they 
 might all join in the yrito already pronounced by him in Valladolid. 
 The emissaries sent to Oajaca were two men named Lopez and Ar- 
 menta ; but both, having fallen into the hands of the government 
 authorities, were beheaded on the instant, and their heads, raised 
 upon poles, were exposed upon the great road of San Luis del Rcy, 
 as a warning to other insurgents. 
 
 This rigorous measure had no effect in retarding the insurrection. 
 Shortly alter a ranchero, named Antonio Valdez, raised the stand* 
 ard of independence, and, at the head of a small guerilla of country 
 people, commenced a war of retaliation. Many Spaniards fell into 
 his hand; and their blood was spilled without mercy : for in this 
 sanguinary manner did the Mexican revolution commence ; and in 
 such fashion was it continued. 
 
IHJfi HUNJKST ML'LKTKKEt. 109 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE HONEST MULETEER. 
 
 On the same day in which the student of theology arrived at the 
 Hacienda las Palmas, and about four o'clock in the afternoon — just 
 after the hour of dinner — the different members of the family, along 
 with their guests, were assembled in one of the apartments of the 
 mansion. It was the grand sala or reception room, opening by 
 double glass doors upon a garden filled with flowering plants, and 
 beautiful shade trees. 
 
 Two individuals, already known to the reader, was absent from 
 this re-union. One was the student himself, who, notwithsanding 
 that he was now in perfect security, had so delivered himself up to 
 the rememberance of the dangers he had encountered while reclin- 
 ing under his terrible dias of tigers and serpents, that he had be,en 
 seized with a violent fever, and was now confined to his bed. 
 
 The other absentee was Mariauita, who, on pretext of taking a 
 look at the great ocean of waters — but in reality to ascertain 
 whether the bark of Don Fernando was not yet in sight — had gone 
 up to the azotea. 
 
 Don Mariano, with that tranquility of mind, which the possession 
 of wealth usually produces — assuring the rich proprietor against 
 the future — was seated in a large leathern fauteuil. smoking his 
 cigar, and occasionally balancing himself on the hind legs of the 
 chair. 
 
 Beside him stood a small table of ornamental wood, on which 
 was placed a cup of Chinese porcelain containing coffee. It was of 
 the kind known among Spanish Americans as cafe de sieeta ; on the 
 principle, no doubt, lucas a non Incendo : since it is usually so 
 strong that a single cup of it is sufficient to rob one of tho power of 
 sleep for a period of at least twenty-four hours. 
 
 In the doorway opening into the garden stood Don Rafael, who 
 
110 THE TIGER HUNTER. 
 
 appeared to be watching the evolutions of the parroquets, amidst 
 the branches of the pomegranates, with all the interest of a natur- 
 alist. 
 
 Though his countenance was calm, his heart was trembling at the 
 thought of the entretien he had proposed on bringing about. 
 
 Gertrudis, with head inclined, was seated near by, occupied with 
 the embroidery of one of those scarfs of white cambric, which the 
 Mexican gentlemen are accustomed to wear over their shoulders, 
 after the fashion of the Arab bernouse, to protect them from the too 
 fierce rays of the sun. 
 
 Despite the tranquil silence of the haciendado, at intervals a 
 cloud might have been observed upon his brow ; while the pale 
 countenance of Don Rafael also exhibited a certain anxiety, belying 
 the expression of indifference which he affected. 
 
 The spirit of Gertrudis in reality was not more calm. A secret 
 voice whispered to her that Don Rafael was about to say something; 
 and that same voice told her it was some sweet prelude of love. Never- 
 theless, despite the quick rush of her Creole blood, and the sudden 
 quivering that rose from her heart to her cheeks, she succeeded in 
 concealing her thoughts under that mask of womanly serenity which 
 the eye of man is not sufficiently skilful to penetrate. 
 
 The only individual present whose countenance was in conformity 
 with his thoughts, was the arriero — Don Valerio Trujano. 
 
 With hat in hand, and standing in front of the haciendado, he had 
 come to say actios, and thank Don Mariano for the hospitality his 
 house had afforded him. 
 
 To that easy gracefulness of manners common to all classes in 
 Spanish America, there was united in the person of the arriero a 
 certain imposing severity of countenance, which, however, he could 
 temper at will by the aid of a pair of eyes of mild and benevolent 
 expression. 
 
 Notwithstanding that his social position was not equal to that of 
 host — for Mexico had not yet become republican — Valerio Trujano 
 was not regarded as an ordinary guest either by Don Mariano or 
 his daughters. 
 
 Independent of his reputation for honesty beyond suspicion— for 
 profound piety as well — which he enjoyed throughout the whole 
 country, he possessed other high qualities that had entitled him to 
 universal esteem. The generosity and courage which he had exhib- 
 ited on the preceeding evening — when assisting a stranger at the 
 risk of his own life — had only added to the great respect already 
 entertained for him by the inmates of the Hacienda las Palmes. 
 
THE HONEST MULETEER. Ill 
 
 Although the dragoon officer had in some measure requited the 
 service, by afterwards snatching the arriero from the jaws of the 
 devouring flood, he did not on that account feel a whit less grateful. 
 Neither did Gertrudis, who with her thoughts of love had already 
 mingled her prayers for him, who had a just title to be called the 
 saviour of Don Rafael's life. 
 
 The man, Valerio Trujano, whose name at a latter period became. 
 immortalised by the seige of Huajopam, was at this tirne about! 
 forty years of age ; but h : s fine delicate features, overshadowed by* 
 an abundance of glossy black hair, gave him the appearance of be- 
 ing much younger, 
 
 " Senor Don Mariano," said he, on coming into the presence of 
 the haciendado, " I have come to bid actios, and thank you for your 
 hospitality." 
 
 " What!" exclaimed Don Mariano, " surely you are not going to 
 leave us so soon ? No, no." 
 
 Gertrudis at the same time expressed her unwillingness that he 
 should depart. 
 
 " I must leave you, Don Mariano," answered the arriero. "The 
 man who has business to attend to is not always his own master. 
 When his heart impels him to turn to the right, his affairs often carry 
 him to the left. He who is in debt, is still less master of himself." 
 
 " You owe a sum of money, then '?" said Don Rafael, interroga- 
 tively, at the same time advancing awards the arriero and offering 
 him his hand. "Why could you not have told me of this? 
 Whatever be the amount, I " 
 
 " Ah ! cawllero" interrupted Trujano, with a smile, " it is a bad 
 plan to borrow from one for the purpose of paying another. I 
 could not think of accepting a loan. It is not from pride, but a 
 sense of duty that 1 decline your generous offer; and I hope you 
 will not be offended. The sum I owe is not a very heavy one — a 
 few hundred dollars. Since it has pleased God that my mules < 
 should find a shelter in the stables of Don Mariano, and thus escape j 
 the inundation, I can now take the road through the mountains to 
 Oajaea, where the money I shall receive for my ream will, I hope, 
 entirely clear me from debt." 
 
 " What !" cried Don Mariano, in a tone of surprise, " do you 
 talk of selling your mules — the only means you have of gaining 
 your livelihood ?" 
 
 "Yes," modestly replied the muleteer, " I intend selling them. £ 
 do so in order that f may be able to go where my vocation calls me. 
 1 should have gone already : but being in debt up to this time, my 
 
112 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 life belonged to my creditors rather than to myself, and I had not 
 the right to expose it to danger." 
 
 "To expose your life?'' interrogated Gertrudis, with an accent 
 that bespoke her interest in the brave man. 
 
 "Just so, Senorita," responded the arriero. " I have seen the 
 heads of Lopez and Armenta exposed upon the high road of San 
 Luis del Key. Who knows but that my own may soon figure be- 
 side them'? I speak openly," contined Trujano, looking round upon 
 his audience, "and as if before God. I know that my host, no 
 more than God himself would betray a secret thus confided to 
 him." 
 
 "Of course not," rejoined Don Mariano, with an air of hospita- 
 ble simplicity such as characterised the early ages. " But here," 
 he continued, " wc are one and all of us devoted to the cause of 
 our country's liberty ; and we shall pray for those who aided her 
 in obtaining it." 
 
 " We shall do more than that,'' said Tres-Villas in his turn ; 
 " we shall lend our help to her. It is the duty of every Mexican 
 who can wield a sword and ride a horse." 
 
 " May all those who raise an arm in favour of Spain !" cried Ger- 
 trudis, her eyes flashing with patriotic enthusiasm, " may they be 
 branded with infamy and disgrace ! may they find neither a roof to 
 shelter them, nor a woman to smile upon them ! may the contempt 
 of those they love be the reward of every traitor to his country !" 
 
 " If all our young girls were like you," said Trujano, looking 
 gratefully towards Gertrudis, " our triumph would soon be attained. 
 Where is the man who would not be proud to risk his life for one 
 smile of your pretty lips, Senorita, or one look from your beautiful 
 eyes?" 
 
 As the arriero said this, he glanced significantly towards the 
 the young officer. Gertrudis hung her head, happy at hearing this 
 homage rendered to her beauty in presence of the man in whose eyes 
 she alone cared to appear beautiful. 
 
 After a pause Trujano continued; Dios y Libertad ! (God and 
 Liberty !) that is my motto. Had I been in a condition sooner to 
 take up the cause of my country, I should have done so — if only to 
 restrain the excesses that have already sullied it. No doubt you 
 have heard of them, Senor Don Mariano?" 
 
 " I have," replied the haciendado ; and the shadow that at that 
 moment passed over his brow told that the news had troubled him. 
 
 " The blood of innocent Spaniards has been shed," continued the 
 muleteer, " men who had no ill-will towards our cause ; and, shame 
 
THE HONEST MULETEER. 113 
 
 to say the only one in this our province who now carries the ban- 
 ner of the insurrection is the worthless wretch, Antonio Valdez." 
 " Antanio Valdez !" cried Don Rafael, interrupting him. "Do 
 
 you mean Valdez, a vaquero of Don Luis Tres-Villas — my father?" 
 
 "The same," replied Don Mariano. "May it please God to 
 
 make him remember that his master always treated him with kind- 
 
 ness 
 
 '•' 
 
 The air of uneasiness with which Don Mariano pronounced these 
 words did not escape Don Rafael. 
 
 " Do you think, then," said he, in a tone that testified his alarm, 
 " do you think that my father, whose liberal opinions are known to 
 every one, is in any danger from the insurgents ?" 
 
 "No, 1 hope not," replied Don Mariano. " Senor Valerio," said 
 Don Rafael, turning to interrogate the arriero; "do you know how 
 many men this fellow, Antonio Valdez, may have under his com- 
 mand ?" 
 
 " Fifty, I have heard ; but I think it likely his band may have been 
 greatly increased by accessions among the country people — who 
 have suffered even more than those of the town from the oppressions 
 of the Spaniards." 
 
 " Senor Don Mariano," said the officer, in a voice trembling with 
 emotion, " nothing less than news similar to what I have just now 
 heard could have tempted me to abridge a sojourn under your roof, 
 which I should have been only too happy to have prolonged ; but 
 when one's father is in danger — even to the risk of life — his son's 
 place should be by his side. Is it not so, Dona Gertrudis f 
 
 On hearing the first words of Don Rafael's speech, which 
 announced the intention of a precipitate departure, a cry of anguish 
 had almost escaped from the lips of the young girl. With the hero- 
 ism of a woman's heart she had repressed it ; and stood silent with 
 her eyes fixed upon the floor. 
 
 " Yes, yes !" murmured she, replying to Don Rafael's question in 
 a low but firm voice. 
 
 There was an interval of silence, during which a sort of sinister 
 presentiment agitated the spirits of the four personages present. 
 The homicidal breath of civil war was already commencing to make 
 itself felt within the domestic circle. 
 
 Trujano was the first to recommence the conversation — his eyes 
 gleaming as he spoke like one of the ancient prophets moved by 
 Divine inspiration. 
 
 "This morning," said he, "an humble servant of the Most High, 
 the obscure priest of a poor village, has left you to offer up his 
 
114 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 prayers for the insurgent cause. And now an instrument, not less 
 humble, by the will of God takes leave of you to offer It his arm, 
 and if need be, his life. Pray for them ! good and beautiful Ma- 
 donna I 1 ' he continued, addressing himself to Gertrudis, and speak' 
 ing with that religious and poetical fervour which was the leading 
 trait in his character ; "pray for them ; and perhaps it will please the 
 Almighty to show that from the very dust lie can raise the power 
 that may hurl the tyrant from his throne." 
 
 On saying these words, the arriero respectfully pressed the hands 
 that were held out to him ; and then walked out of the sala, followed 
 by Don Mariano. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE LOVERS ALONE. 
 
 It may be that the haciendado had reasons for thus leaving hia 
 daughter alone with Don Rafael, during the few short moments that 
 should elapse previous to the departure of the young officer. 
 
 The voices of the muleteers, who were busily lading the rccua of 
 Don Valerio, scarce reached the ears of the lovers, who were now 
 embarrassed by the profound silence that reigned in the sala. It 
 was the first time they had found themselves alone, since the arrival 
 of the officer at the hacienda. 
 
 The sun was gilding the tops of the pomegranate trees, where the 
 parroquets were joyously performing their gymnastic excercises; 
 •and the breeze which caressed the plants in the garden, wafted into 
 the saloon the perfumes of a thousand flowers. It was a solemn and 
 decisive moment. Gertrudis, happy, yet trembling for the words 
 of love she expected to hear, sat with her face partially concealed 
 behind the folds of her silken reboxo. In her fingers she still held 
 the scarf she had been embroidering ; but, seeing that this betrayed 
 the trembling of her hand, she placed it on a table by her side, lest 
 Don Rafael might observe the emotion of which he was the author. 
 It was the last effort of virgin pride — its last attempt at resistance be 
 fore avowing itself overcome. 
 
 " Gertrudis !" said Don Rafael, endeavouring to stifle the pulsa 
 tions of his heart, " I have spoken to your father. 1 wish to conse- 
 crate these few moments — the last I may ever pass in your presence 
 
THE LOVERS ALONE. 115 
 
 i — to an explanation between us. I implore you, then, to speak, as 
 I intend speaking myself, without reserve — without ambiguity." 
 
 " I promise you that, Don Rafael," responded Gertrudis; "but 
 what mysterious secret have you been communicating to my 
 father?" added she, in a tone of gentle raillery. 
 
 " I told him," replied the lover, " that 1 had come hither with my 
 heart full of you ; that my father's message summoning me to his 
 presence had been received by me as a voice calling me to bliss- 
 since it gave me this opportunity of once more being near you. I 
 told him how I had hurried over the immense distance that sepa- 
 rated us ; and how, in order that I might see you an hour sooner, I 
 had disregarded the howling of the jaguars, and the threatening 
 voice of the inundation " 
 
 Don Rafael became silent, perhaps from embarrassment, while 
 Gertrudis still remained in a listening attitude. It was a melody 
 to which she could have listened for ever ! 
 
 " And when you told my lather," said she, after a pause of 
 silence, " that — that — you loved me — did he exhibit any astonish- 
 ment at the unexpected revelation ?" 
 
 " No, not any,*' replied the officer, himself a little surprised at 
 the question thus put to him. 
 
 " That, then, must have been because I had already told him," 
 said the young beauty, with a smile as sw r eet as her voice. " But 
 my father — what answer did he give you?" 
 
 •• • My dear Don Rafael,' said he to me, 'I would be most happy 
 to see our families united. But this can only be with the consent 
 of Gertrudis, and the free wish of her heart; and I have no reason 
 to thin'; that her heart is yours.' Those were the terrible words 
 that proceeded from the lips of your father. Gertrudis, do your 
 lips confirm them V 
 
 The voice of Don Rafael quivered as he spoke ; and this trem- 
 bling of a strong man — who never in trembled the presence of dan- 
 ger — was so delicious to the heart of her who loved him, as to 
 hinder her from hastening to make reply. 
 
 On hearing the answer which her father had given to Don Rafael, 
 the carnation upon her lips became of a deeper hue. She was biU 
 iii2 them to restrain a smile. Assuming an air of gravity, however, 
 which had the effect of rendering her lover still more anxious, she 
 ttt length made reply — 
 
 "Don Rafael i" said she, "you have appealed to my candour, 
 and I shall speak frankly to you. Bub swear to me that you will 
 not regard my sincerity as a crime." 
 
11G THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " I swear it, Gertrudis ! Speak without fear, though your words 
 should crush a heart that is entirely your own." 
 
 " Only on one condition can I speak freely." 
 
 " Name it ! it shall be observed." 
 
 " It is, that — while I am making my confession to you, you will 
 keep your eyes fixed upon the tops of those pomegranate trees. 
 Without doing that you might risk not hearing certain things — in 
 short, an avowal — such as you might wish." 
 
 " I shall try to obey you," answered Don Rafael, turning his 
 gaze towards the tops of the trees, as if about to study the domes- 
 tic habits of the parroquets, that still continued their evolutions 
 among the branches. 
 
 In a timid and trembling voice, Gertrudis commenced — 
 
 " One day," said she, " not very long ago — a young girl made a vow 
 to the Virgin, to save the man she loved from a fearful danger that 
 threatened him. Don't you think, Don Rafael, that that man was 
 dearly loved ?" 
 
 " That depends upon the nature of the vow," replied the officer. 
 
 "You shall hear it. The young girl promised to the Virgin, that 
 if her lover should escape from the danger, she would cause him to 
 cut the hair — Oh! if you look at me 1 cannot go on — she would 
 cause him to cut the hair from her head with his own hands — the 
 long tresses which she herself highly valued, and which he had so 
 passionately admired. In your opinion, was that man beloved?" 
 
 " Oh ! who would not be proud to be so loved ?" cried Don 
 Rafael, casting a glance at the questioner that moved her 10 the 
 depths of her soul. 
 
 " I have not yet finished," said she. "Turn your eyes upon the 
 trees, or perhaps you may not hear the end of my tale, and that 
 might vex you. When this young girl, who had not hesitated to 
 sacrifice her hair — the object of her constant care — the long silken 
 tresses that encircled her head like the diadem of a queen, and 
 which, perhaps, were, in her lover's eyes, her greatest embellish- 
 ment — when this poor girl will have cut — had cut them off, I should 
 say — do you believe that her lover — you may look at me now, 
 Don Rafael — I give you permission — do you believe that he would 
 still love her as before ?" 
 
 Don Rafael faced round suddenly at the question ; not that he 
 yet comprehended its import; but the tone of melancholy in which 
 Gertrudis was speaking had profoundly moved him. 
 
 A tender tear — a tear of envy for the lot of this unknown, so 
 passionately loved — glistened in his eye, as he made reply — 
 
THE LOVLKS ALONE. 117 
 
 "Oh, Gertrudis !" said he, "no devotion could repay s»ieh a sac- 
 rifice as that; and the young girl you speak of, however beautiful 
 she might be, could not be otherwise than an angel in the eyes of 
 her lover." 
 
 Gertrudis pressed her hand over her heart, to stay the flood of 
 joyful emotion that was rushing through it. 
 
 After a pause she continued, h r voice quiv< ring as she spoke — 
 
 " Once more, and for the last time, 1 desire you to raise your 
 eye> toward heaven. We have reason to be thankful to it." 
 
 While Don Rafael obeyed the direction, Gertrudis permitted the 
 rehoso to fall from her shoulders ; and with her lingers she removed 
 the comb that imprisoned her shining hair, which, coiled up in two 
 long plaited tresses, encircled her crown like a diadem. These she 
 allowed to drop down at will, until they hung far below her waist. 
 Then seizing in one hand the scissors she had just been using at her 
 work, and with the other covering the crimson blush .upon her cheek, 
 she held forth the instrument, at the same time crying out — 
 
 " Now, Don Rafael ! aid me in keeping my vow, by cutting for 
 me the hair from my head." 
 
 " J ?" exclaimed Don Rafael, in whose ear her voice had sounded 
 like the voice of an angel. " I ?" repeated he, astounded at the pro- 
 posal. "Gertrudis! Gertrudis!" 
 
 " I have promised it to the Virgin for saving you last night. 
 Now do you comprehend, Don Rafael — my dearly beloved 
 Rafael ?" 
 
 "Oh, Gertrudis!" cried the lover, in an ectasy of joy, "you 
 should have prepared me more gradually for so much happiness." 
 
 And kneeling in front of the young girl, he eagerly took hold of 
 her hand, which no longer refused to let him touch it, but, on the 
 contrary, was rather advanced to meet his lips. 
 
 "' Is it my fault?" said Gertrudis, in a tone of sweet playfulness. 
 " Is it my fault if men are slow at taking a hint? Santissima ! for 
 a full quarter of an hour, shameful as it may appear, have I been 
 endeavoring to prepare you for what you call your happiness." 
 Then suddenly laying aside her playful tone, she continued — " But 
 now, my dear Rafael, I must remember my vow. I have made it, 
 and you must assist me in its accomplishment." 
 
 " But why did you promise your hair?" inquired the lover, with 
 a slight air of chagrin. 
 
 " Because I had nothing more valuable to offer in exchange for 
 your life — mine perhaps as well. Oh ! I am well repaid for the 
 
118 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 sacrifice by knowing that you love me. Come, Rafael! take the 
 scissors." 
 
 '■ Oh ! I could never manage with that weak instrument," said 
 Don Rafael, speaking merely to gain time. 
 
 " Ah ! are you going to complain of the trouble it will give you ?" 
 inquired Gertrudis, bending down towards her lover, who was still 
 kneeling before her — " Come, my brave Rafael ! Use the scissor^ 
 1 < ommand you." 
 
 Don Rafael took the shining instrument in his trembling hand, 
 but still hesitated to use them — like the woodman, who, with his 
 axe raised against some noble tree of the forest he has been ordered 
 to cut clown, hesitates before striking the first blow. Gertrudis 
 would have smiled to encourage him, but at that moment, as she 
 looked upon those golden tresses, so long and carefully guarded, and 
 which, if unfolded, would have covered her like a shawl, the poor 
 young girl could not hinder a tear from escaping her. 
 
 "Stay, my Rafael — a moment yet," cried she, while the crimson 
 blush mantled higher upon her cheeks. " I have long desired — ■ 
 dreamt of it as a supreme felicity — to entwine in these poor tresses 
 the man whom I should one day love, and — and " 
 
 Before she could finish speaking, Don Rafael had caught the per, 
 fumed tresses between his fingers, and raptuously kissing them, 
 passed them around his neck. 
 
 " Now 1 am ready,"' continued she, raising the long plaits that 
 encircled her lover's cheeks, and setting the captive free. "Go on, 
 Rafael ! 1 am ready." 
 
 " I should never have the courage to commit such a fearful act," 
 cried the officer, flinging the scissors upon the floor, and crushing 
 them under his heel. 
 
 " It must be done, Rafael ; it must be done. God will punish 
 me else. Perhaps He may punish me by taking away from me 
 your love." 
 
 " Well, I shall do it," rejoined the reluctant lover, " but not yet 
 awhile. On my return, Gertrudis. For my sake, leave it over till 
 then." 
 
 The passionate appeal of Don Rafael at length obtained a respite 
 until the time fixed for his return ; which was to be on the morrow 
 — as soon as he could have assured himself of the safety of his 
 father. 
 
 While their next meeting was being arranged between the two 
 lovers, Gertrudis suddenly started up, like a young doe that springs 
 from its perfumed lair at the first sound of the hunter's horn. 
 
THE LOVERS ALON^S. 119 
 
 " Surely I hoard a noise V said she; "a strange noise. What 
 £Oiild it mean ?"' 
 
 Don Rafael, whose senses had been entirely absorbed by his new 
 found happiness, sprang also to his feet, and stood listening. 
 
 They had scarce listened for a dozen seconds, when a well-known 
 sound fell upon the ears of both — though well known, a sound sig- 
 nificant and ominous. It was the report of a gun, quickly followed 
 by severe! others as if fired by fusillade. 
 
 At the seme moment, Don Mariano and his daughter Marianita 
 rushed into the room. They too, had heard the reports, which were 
 in the direct ion of the hills, and were proceeding to the rear of the 
 hacienda to inquire the cause. 
 
 All remained listening and alarmed — Don Rafael, more than 
 even the young girls: for too much happiness has the effect of 
 weakening the heart. The most profound silence reigned through- 
 out the building; for the firing, heard by the servants of the hacT 
 enda, had inspired one and all of them with the same mute alarm ; 
 just as pigeons asleep upon the tree aroused by the first scream of 
 the kite, remain for some moments terrified and motions? in their 
 places. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 MEXICAN U A J O R - D M . 
 
 Dos Marian a tnd the two sisters rushed up 
 
 ntiment. 
 l v crowde I with s f tiie 
 
 ridge could be obtained — its pe from top to bottom being 
 
 visible at a single glance. A horrible spectacle carne under the 
 of all at once. 
 At the upper end of the path which led towards the Hacienda 
 del Valle, a horse and horseman were seen lying upon the 
 close to one another. Both appeared to be wounded — the man 
 struggling to regain his feet — the horse making only the slightest 
 ►n, as if in the last moments of lite. 
 u Haste !*' cried Don Mariano to his domestics. u Haste ! Pro- 
 cure a litter, and have the wounded horseman carried down here to 
 the house." 
 
 u \f my eye- sceive me,'' said the young officer, casting 
 
 tlneasj to the hill, "yonder unfortunate man is poor old 
 
 Rodriguez, the oldest of my father's servants!"' 
 
 The head of the wounded horseman was in fact covered with 
 grey h mid be seen from the azotea. 
 
 "The in , \ continued Don Rafael, "now re- 
 
 calls to me some facts connected with that wretch. I remember 
 _' of a punishment inflicted upon him; and I have a dark 
 itiment — Oh h . is ! SenorDon Mariano, such happiness to 
 
 be thus int 
 
 And without finishing the speech, the young officer hastily pressed 
 th^ hand of his host, an J rushed for the postern that opened towards 
 t.. • hills. 
 
 I.i a climbing the 
 
 by the 5 of D >n M iriano, « ho carri : 1 a liter a. 
 
 On reaching the wounded man, Don Rafael had no longer any 
 doubts about his being old Rod _- though haying seen the latter 
 
 only in his childhon 1. he rei I little more than the name. 
 
 " Rodrig bv the efforts he 
 
A MEXUAV MAJOR-DOMO. 121 
 
 been making to get upon his feet, was fast losing conscious- 
 Hold !"' said Don Rafael to the domestic. "It is useless plac- 
 ing him on the litem. He will not be able to endure the motion. 
 His blood has nearly all run out by this terrible wound/' 
 
 As the officer spoke he pointed to a large red spot upon the vest 
 of the wounded man, beneath which the bloody orifice of a wound 
 Showed where the bullet had entered. 
 
 The dragoon captain had fairly won his spurs in the sanguinary 
 wars of the Indian Frontier. He had witnessed death in all its 
 forms, and his experience had taught him to adopt the readiest ; 
 h i crisis. 
 
 t stop] tl bleeding with his [ and then, ta- 
 
 - . of China crape from his waist, he bound it tightly 
 
 over the wound. For all this be had but little hopes of the man's 
 
 recovery. The bullet had entered between his shoulders, and passed 
 
 clear through his body. 
 
 Don Rafael only anticipated that, the hemorrhage once stopped, 
 the wounded man might return for a moment to consciousness. He 
 was, no doubt, the bearer of some important message from his mas- 
 ter, and it behoved Don Rafael to learn its purport. 
 
 Some time elapsed before the old servant opened lis eyes; but 
 one of Don Mariano's people at that moment came up, carrying a 
 flask of aguardiente. A few drops were poured down his throat. 
 Some of the liquid was sprinkled over his temples, and this had the 
 effect of momentarily reviving him. 
 
 Opening his eyes, he beheld his young master bending over him. 
 He had not seen Don Rafael since his childhood, but he knew he 
 was in the neighbourhood, and that the young officer must be he. 
 
 " ft is 1, Rodriguez," said Don Rafael, speaking close to his ear. 
 "I — Ra a 1 Tres-Villas. You have a message from my father ] 
 Why has he sent you ?" 
 
 M Blessed be God that He has sent you" said the old man, speak- 
 ing with difficulty. " Oh ! Senor Don Rafael, I brimz fearful news. 
 The hacienda Del Valle " 
 
 " Is burnt ?"' 
 
 The wounded man made a sign in the negative. 
 
 " Besieged, th i. ?' 
 
 ' ; V •■! Rodriguez in a feeble voice. 
 
 u And my father ?" inquired the officer with a look of anguish. 
 
 "He lives. He sent me to you — to Don Mariano's — to ask as- 
 sistance. I— pursued by the brigands — a -bullet — here! Do not 
 
122 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 stay with me. Hasten to your father. If any misfortune happen 
 — Antonio Valdez— remember — Antonio Valdez — miscreant — ta- 
 king vengeance for — oh, young master ! Don Rafael — pray for old 
 
 Rodriguez — who nursed you when a child — pray " 
 
 The sufferer could speak no more, even in whispers. ITis head 
 fell back upon the turf. He was dead. When the litter was set 
 down in the courtyard of Las Palmas it carried only a corpse! 
 
 Don Rafael had turned back for Jus horse, and to bid a hasty 
 adieu to the family of his host. 
 
 "If Costal was only lure!'' said Don Mariano. "Unfortu- 
 nately the brave fellow is gone away. Only a few hours ago he 
 came to take his leave of mo, with another of my people- a negro 
 whom I had no great fancy for. Both, I believe, are on their way 
 to join the insurgent army in the capacity of scouts or guides. 
 Hola /"' continued the haciendado, shouting to one of the peons t 
 " send hither the mayor-domo I" 
 
 This functionary soon made his appearance ; not a house steward 
 — as the name might seem to imply — in white cravat, stockings, 
 and powdered wig; but, on the contrary, a strapping energetic fel- 
 low, dressed in full ranchero costume, with a pair of spurs upon his 
 booted heels, whose enormous rowels caused him to walk almost 
 upon his toes, and with long black hair hanging to his shoulders 
 like the manes of the half-wild horses he was accustomed to ride. 
 Such is the mayor-domo of a Mexican hacienda, whose duties, 
 instead of confining him to the dwelling house, consist in the 
 general superintendence of the estate, often equal in extent to the 
 half of a county. It is, therefore, necessary for him to lie a man 
 of the most active habits, a first-class rider, ever in the saddle, or 
 ready to leap into it at a moment's notice. Such was the person- 
 age who presented himself in obedience to the summons of Don 
 Mariano. 
 
 " Give orders," said the latter, addressing him, " to my two va- 
 queros, Arrovo and Bocardo, to saddle their horses and accompany 
 Senor Don Rafael !" 
 
 " Neither Arroyo nor Bocardo can be found," replied the mayor- 
 domo. " It is eight days since I have seen either of them." 
 
 " Give each of them four hours in the cepo (stocks), as soon as 
 they return 1" 
 
 " I doubt whether they will ever return, Senor Don Mariano." 
 
 " What ! have they gone to join Valdez, think you ?" 
 
 " Not exactly," replied the mayor-domo; " I have my suspicions 
 
THE VOW PERFORMED. Ill-) 
 
 that the brace of worthies have gone to get up a guerilla on their 
 own account.' 1 
 
 " Summon Sanchez j then t" 
 
 "Sanchez is laid up in bed, Senor Don Mariano. He has some 
 bDiies broken by a wild horse — that he had mounted for the first 
 time — having reared and fallen back upon him." 
 
 ' ; So, Senor Don Rafael," said the haciendado with an air of vex- 
 ation, " out of six servants which I counted yesterday I have not 
 o:ie to place at your service, except my mayor-domo here, for I 
 cannot reckon upon those stupid Indian peons. The mayor-domo 
 will attend von." 
 
 " No, 1 ' rejoined Don Rafael ; " it is not necessary. Let him re- 
 main here. I shall go alone to the assistance of my lather, who, 
 no doubt, will have plenty of people with him. It is more likely a 
 leader that is wanted." 
 
 The mayor-domo, dismissed by this answer, hurried towards the 
 stables, to see that Don Rafael's horse was made ready for the 
 road. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE VOW PERFORMED. 
 
 While these incidents were in course of occurrence, the two sisters 
 had returned to their own chamber. 
 
 Alarmed by the coincidence, between the melancholy event that 
 had just transpired and the procrastination of her vow, Gertrudis 
 fancied she saw in it the finger of Providence ; and, without further 
 hesitation, she, with her own hands, completed the pious but painful 
 sacrifice ! 
 
 Shrouded under the folds of her reboso, her pale face appeared be- 
 neath a single band of hair that encircled her forehead — all that was 
 left of that magnificent cievclure. 
 
 Marianita was in tears. It was she one would have thought that 
 had suffered a misfortune ; while Gertrudis, whose eyes shone with 
 a sort of satisfaction for the act she had accomplished, appeared to 
 be endeavoring to console her sister ! 
 
 "Do not weep, my poor Marianita!" said she. "Perhaps, had 
 it not been for my culpable weakness, in consenting to defer the 
 fulfilment of my vow, this sad affair would not have arisen. No\f 
 
124 THE TIOEIi-llUNTER. 
 
 lam more confident, that whatever danger he may run, God will 
 restore Rafael sate to me. Go and tell him that I wait here to bid 
 him actios. Bring him here, but stay with us yourself. Remember 
 that, sister. Remain here along with us, for I cannot trust my 
 strength. 1 might never allow him to leave me. Go, dearest, and 
 return quickly V' 
 
 Marianita, covering her face with a kerchief, and endeavoring to 
 dry her tears, hastened upon her errand. 
 
 • Gertrudis, left alone, looked towards the two long plaits which 
 she had placed beside her upon the table. The lips of Don Rafael 
 had kissed them but the moment before ; and, perhaps, influenced 
 by this sweet souvenir, the young girl took them up and p 
 them repeatedly to her own. Then, laying them once more upon 
 the table, she knelt down, to seek in prayer the strength of which 
 she stood in need. 
 
 She was still upon her knees when Marianita, followed by Don 
 Rafael, entered the chamber — that virgin sanctuary of the two sis- 
 ters, where man, except their father, had never before penetrated. 
 
 A rapid glance told Don Rafael that the sacrifice had been ac- 
 complished, lie was already too pale to change countenance. 
 
 Gertrudis rose and seated herself upon a fauteuil. Marianita 
 also took a seat, but in a remote corner of the apartment. Don 
 Rafael remained standing. 
 
 "Come here, Don Rafael," said Gertrudis, "come near me. 
 Kneel before me. No! — on one knee! — upon both only before 
 God. So! Place your hands in mine! Look into my eyes." 
 
 Don Rafael obeyed these gentle injunctions without resistance or 
 reluctance. What more could he wish, than thus to bend before 
 her whom he loved ? To press those white delicate fingers between 
 his own strong hands? To drink from those swimming eyes as 
 from the fountain of love? What more could man desire 1 
 
 " Do you remember what you just now said to me, Don Rafael ? 
 c Oh! Gertrudis, there is no love that could repay such a sacrifice! 
 And however beautiful she might be, that young girl must appear in 
 the eyes of her lover as beautiful as an angel P Are you still of the 
 same opinion?" And with a sweet smile the questioner looked 
 down in the face of her lover. "There, hush!" continued she, 
 placing her little hand over his lips, "you need not make reply. 
 Your eyes — you have beautiful eyes, my Rafael ! — your eyes an- 
 swer in the affirmative." 
 
 The simple and tender homage, thus rendered to the personal ap- 
 pearance of her lover, may appear a little brave in the opinion of 
 
THE VOW PERFORMED. 1*5 
 
 those who protend t<> love a man for the qualities of his mind and 
 heart. I shall not discuss the point. I only design to draw a faith- 
 ful picture, and exhibit in all its simple exaltation the love of a Cre- 
 ole maiden under the a' dent sky of the tropics. 
 
 Reassurred that she was still beautiful as ever in the eyes of her 
 lover, the young girl proceeded — 
 
 " Do not tell me, Rafael, that you will ever love me more than 
 you do now. It is sweet for me to know that you cannot love me 
 more. Now !" she continued, with faltering voice — " now we are 
 about to part. I do not know — when one loves one always has fear. 
 Take one of these tresses. I have been so happy while decking it 
 with flowers for you. Take it ! Keep it as a token — a souvenir. 
 It will remind you, that you should never cease to love a poor girl, 
 who never knew of nothing more precious to oiler to God in ex-' 
 change for your life. The other I shall keep myself, as a talisman. 
 Oh ! it is a fearful thing I am now going to say to you If one dav 
 v\»q >j?o»!'u oeaae to k»* r e me— if \ shouid fcnov* tins beyGiiti -i',- 
 .}y.ii},f — sweai"to me s Rafael, boat, no matte? in what place *:..< may- 
 be — no matter at what hour it may reach you — when you receive 
 this tress from me, that you will instantly come to see me. This 
 silent messenger will say to you, ' The woman tvho setids yon this- 
 token knows that you no longer love her ; but despite all, she cannot 
 cease to love you, and she desires once more, only once more, to see, 
 you kneeling before her — as you are now, Don Rafael !" 
 
 " I swear it," cried the lover with emphasis. " 1 swear it ; and 
 though I were standing in front of my most mortal foe, with my 
 sword raised to strike him, I should suspend the blow to obey that 
 sacred message !" 
 
 " Your oath is registered in Heaven, Don Rafael," said Gertru 
 dis. <; But now the time presses. Accept from me this sun-scarf, 
 which I have embroidered for you. Each thread of the embroidery 
 will recall a thought, a prayer, or a sigh, of which you have been 
 the object. Adieu, my beloved Rafael ! You must go; your Hith- 
 er may stand in need of your help. What is a mistress when com- 
 pared with one's father ?" 
 
 "It is time," said Don Rafael, suddenlv awakening to a sense of 
 his filial duty, " I shall be gone." 
 
 And yet he. remained kneeling a t the feet of Gertrudis, ever in- 
 tending to go, and as often tarrying in his intent, adieu following 
 adieu, like the eternal waves of the ocean ! 
 
 " Say to him to go, Marianita," said Gertrudis with a sweet smile, 
 
I'^O THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 li I have not the courage to tell him. One more kiss, Don Rafael, 
 ere we part ! let it be the pledge " 
 
 The anient pressure of her lover's lips interrupted her speech. One 
 last fond embrace — a strange commingling of joy and sorrow — owe 
 wildly spoken "Adios/" and Don Rafael rushed from the apart 
 ment. 
 
 The clattering of hoofs, heard shortly after, told that he was gal 
 loping away from the hacienda. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 DUTY V E R S U S L O V E . 
 
 The last beams -of the sun were gilding the summit of the ridge 
 that bounded the plain of LasPalmas, when Don Rafael Tres-Villas 
 
 crossed it on his way to the hacienda Del Valle. To recover the 
 time he had lost, he pressed his horse to his utmost speed, and de- 
 scended the slope on the opposite side at a gallop. As the brave 
 steed dashed onward, a hoarse snorting sound was heard to issue 
 from his nostrils, caused by the singular operation which the arriero 
 had performed upon him. 
 
 Oa reaching the level of the valley in which stood the hacienda 
 Del Valle, the horseman drew bridle and listened. He was suffi- 
 ciently near the house to have heard any unusual commotion that 
 ipight be there going on. He fully expected to have distinguished 
 the shouts of men engaged in fight, or the tumultuous murmur of a 
 siege. 
 
 No sound, however, reached his car — not a murmur. Silence 
 ominous and profound reigned throughout the valley. 
 
 With clouded brow, and heart anxiously beating, the officer con- 
 tinued on his course. He had unbuckled his carbine from the sad- 
 dle, and carried the piece in his hand ready for use. 
 
 Tiie silence continued. Not a cry awoke the solitude — not the 
 flash of a fusil lit up the > of the twilight. The sleep of 
 
 death seemed to be upon every th 
 
 As alread m Rafael had not visited the hacienda of 
 
 Del Valle since he i ft it when only a child.: he therefore knew 
 nothing of the way that led to it beyond the directions he had re- 
 ceived from his late host. 
 
 He was beginning to think he had gone astray, when a long wid# 
 
DUTY VERSUS LOVE. 127 
 
 arenuc opened before hiiti. This was bordered on e'ich side by a 
 row of tall trees, of the species taxodium disticha— the cypress of 
 America. He had been told of this avenue, and lhac at its extremi- 
 ty stood th ' hacienda he was in search of. The description was 
 minute; h<' could not be mistaken. 
 
 Heading his steed into the avenue, he spurred forward beneath the 
 sombre shadow of ..he trees. I:i a rapid gallop he traversed the level 
 road, and had arrived nearly at its further extremity, when all at 
 oiice the wails of the hacienda came in view directly in frort of him 
 — a dark mass of building, that filled up the whole space between 
 the two rows of trees. 
 
 The main entrance in the centre appeared to be only half closed, 
 one wing of the massive gate standing slightly ajar. But no one 
 came forth to welcome him ! Not a sound issued from the building. 
 All was silent as the tomb ! 
 
 Still pressing forward, he advanced towards the entrance — deter- 
 mined to ride in through the open gateway ; but, just at that mo- 
 ment, his steed made a violent bound, and shied to one side. 
 
 In the obscurity ot^ the twilight, of rather from the confusion of 
 his sense, Don Rafael had not observed the object which had fright- 
 ened his horse. It was a dead body lying upon the ground in front 
 of the gateway. More horrible still, it was a body wanting the 
 head! 
 
 At this frightful spectacle a cry broke from the lips of the officer 
 — a cry of fearful import. Rage, despair, all the furious passions 
 that may wring the heart of man, were impressed in that cry — to 
 which echo was the only answer. He had arrived too late. All was 
 over. The body was that of his father! 
 
 He needed not to alight and examine it, in order to be convinced 
 of this terrible fact. On a level with his horse's head an object 
 appeared hanging against one of the leaves of the great door. It 
 was a head — the head that had belonged to the corpse. It was 
 hanging from the latch, suspended by the hair. 
 
 Despite the repugnance of his horse to advance, Don Rafael 
 drove the spur into his flank ; and forced him forward until he was 
 himself near enough to examine the tearful object. With flashing 
 eyes and swelling veins, he gazed upon the gory face. The features 
 "were not so much disfigured, as to hinder him from identifying 
 them. They were the features of his father ! 
 
 The truth was clear. The Spaniard had been the victim of the 
 insurgents, \\ ho had respected neither his liberal political sentiments, 
 nor his Inoffensive old age. The authors of the crime had even 
 
128 THE TIGEU-IIUNTER. 
 
 boasted of it. On the gate below were written two names Arroyo 
 — Antonio Valdez. 
 
 The otlieer read them aloud, but with a choking utterance. 
 
 For a moment his head fell pensively forward upon his breast. 
 Shen on a sudden he raised it again — as if in obedience to a secret 
 resolve — saying as he did so, in a voice husky with emotion — 
 
 "Where shall I lind the fiends'? Where? No matter! — find 
 them 1 shall. Night or day, no rest for me — no rest for them, till 
 I have hung both their heads in the place of this one !" 
 
 " How now," he continued after a pause, " how can I combat in 
 a cause like this? Can a son fight under the same flag with the 
 assassins of his father ? Never !*' 
 
 " For Spain, then !" he cried out, after another short moment of 
 silence. " For Spain shall my sword be drawn!*' And raising his 
 voice into a louder tone, he pronounced with furious emphasis — 
 
 " Viva Espanal Mueran a lots bandidos /" (Spain for ever! 
 Death to the brigands !) 
 
 Saying this, the dragoon dismounted from his horse, and knelt 
 reverentially in front of that ghastly image. 
 
 "Heal of my v nerable and beloved father!'' said he, "I swear 
 by your grey hairs, crimsoned with your own blood, to use every 
 effort in my power, by sword and by fire, to nip in the bud this 
 accursed insurrection — one of whose first acts has been to rob you 
 of your innocent life. May God give me strength to fulfil my 
 
 vow 
 
 r 
 
 At that moment a voice from within seemed to whisper in his 
 ear, repeating the words of his mistress : — 
 
 u May all those who m raise an arm in favour of Spain be branded 
 with infamy and disgrace ! May they find neither a roof to shelter 
 them, nor a woman to smile upon them ! May the contempt of those 
 they love be the reward of every traitor to his country /'' 
 Almost the instant alter, another voice replied — 
 "Do your duty, no matter what may be the result" 
 In presence of the. mutilated remains of his father, the son bark- 
 ened only to the latter. 
 
 The moon had been long up before Don Rafael finished the 
 melancholy task of digging a grave. In this he respectfully placed 
 the headless corpse, and laid the head beside it in its proper posi- 
 tion. Then, drawing from his bosom the long plait of Gertrudis' 
 hair, and taking from his shoulders the embroidered sun-scarf, with 
 
DUTY VERSUS LOVE. 129 
 
 like respectful manner, he deposited these two love-tokens along* 
 side the honoured remains of his father. 
 
 Convulsed with grief, he threw in the earth, burying in one grave 
 the dearest souvenirs of his life. 
 
 It was not without difficulty that he could withdraw himself from 
 a spot thus doubly consecrated by filial piety and love; and for a 
 long while he stood sorrowing over the grave. 
 
 In fine, new thoughts coursing through his bosom aroused him to 
 action ; and, leaping into his saddle, he spurred his steed into a gal- 
 lop, taking the road that conducted to the capital of Oajaca. 
 
 Little more than twelve months after its first breaking out— 
 that is, about the close of the year 1811 — the Mexican revolution 
 might have been compared to one of those great fires of the Ameri- 
 can prairies, whose destructive range has been checked by the hand 
 of man. In vain the flames jet out on all sides, seeking fresh ele- 
 ment. A wide space has been cleared around them. Soon the 
 crackling of the large trees, and the hiss of the burning grass, cease 
 to be heard ; and the whole plain becomes enveloped under a cloud 
 of smoke rising upward from the blackened ashes. 
 
 Such was the fate of the insurrection stirred up by the priest 
 Hidalgo. From the little hamlet of Delores it had spread like 
 fire over all the vice-kingdom of New Spain : but very soon the 
 leaders were almost to a man made captives and shot — the venera- 
 ble Hidalgo himself undergoing the same sad fate. A remnant of 
 the insurgents, pressed on all sides by the royalist troops under Gen- 
 eral Calleja, had taken refuge in the little town of Zitacuaro, where 
 they were commanded by the Mexican general. Don Ignacio Rayon. 
 
 There they h id established a junta, independent of the govern- 
 ment ; and continued to launch forth their proclamations, powerless 
 as the glow of the prairie fire after its flames have been extinguished 
 
 When such a fire, however, has been the work of men — when 
 kindled by man's will and for man's purpose — and not the result of 
 accident or spontaneity, then, indeed, the flames may be expected to 
 burst forth anew at some other point of the prairie or the forest. 
 
 Just so it was with the Mexican revolution. Another champion 
 of independence, of origin even more obscure than his predecessors 
 — if that were possible — soon appeared upon the arena which they 
 had quitted, and with an eclat likely to eclipse any of those who had 
 preceded him. 
 
 This was the curate of Caracuaro, he whom historians designate 
 as" El insigne Morelos' 1 (the illustrious Moreios). The Mexican 
 
130 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 writers do not state in what year Morelos was born. Judging from 
 the portraits 1 have seen of him, and comparing the different dates 
 that have been assigned to his birth, he should have been about 
 thirty -eight or forty years old, at the commencement of his career 
 as a revolutionary leader. His native place Was Talmejo, a small 
 hamlet t yvn of Apatzingam, in the State of \ alladolid — ■ 
 
 now called Morelia, after the most illustrious of its sons. The on 
 patrimony of the future heir of the Mexican independence was a 
 small recuu of pack-mules, left him by Lis father, who was a mule- 
 teer. 
 
 For a long time the son himself followed this humble and labori- 
 ous calling; when, for some reason or other, the ilea came into his 
 head to enter holy orders. History does not say what was his 
 motive for this resolution; but certain ii is that Morelos proceeded 
 to carry it out with that determined perseverance which was an 
 essential trait in his character. 
 
 Having sold off his mules, he consecrated his whole time to 
 acquire those branches of education, rigorously indispensible to the 
 attainment of his purpose — that is to say the study of Latin and the- 
 ology. The college of Valladolid was the scene of his student life. 
 
 Having gone through the required eourse, orders were conferred 
 upon him ; but V r alladolid offering to him no prospect of advancement, 
 he retired to the little pueblo of Lruapam, where for a time ho 
 subsisted upon the scanty means supplied by giving lessons in Latin. 
 
 About this time the curacy of Caracuaro became vacant. Cara- 
 cuaro is a village as unhealthy as poor, where no one could be 
 supposed to reside from choice; and yet Morelos, lacking powerful 
 friends, had great difficulty in getting appointed to the living. ^*- 
 
 \\\ this miserable place had he resided in a state of obscure pov- 
 erty, up to that hour, when, accidentally introduced to the reader, 
 at the hacienda Las Palmas. Under the pretence of visiting the 
 Bishop of Oajaca, but in reality for the purpose of fomenting the 
 insurrection, Morelos had traveled through the province of that 
 name; and at the time of his visit to Lis Palmas, he was on his 
 way to offer his services to Hidalgo, as chaplain of the insurgent 
 army. The result of that application was, that instead of a chap- 
 1 : icy I army, Hidalgo bestowed upon the cura of Caracuaro, 
 
 i to capture the forti port of Acapulco. it was 
 
 in reality rather as a jest, and to disembarass himself of the impor- 
 tunities of Morelos, that Hidalgo bestowed this singular and impor- 
 tant commission. How much Morelos merited the honour will 
 appear in the sequel. 
 
A COURSE OF STUDY INTERRUPTED. ]S1 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 ■ ;. part ' lit fifteen months after 
 
 led as occurring near the hacienda Las Palma's — two 
 
 men might have been seen face to face — one seated behind a rude 
 
 deal table covered with charts and letters — the other standing in 
 
 front, hat in hand. 
 
 The tableau was within a tent — the least ragged and largest, among 
 a number of others that formed an encampment on the banks of the 
 river Sahara, at a short distance from the port of Acapulco. 
 
 The person seated wore upon his head a checked cotton kerchief 
 while liis shoulders were covered with a jqqveta of white linen. It 
 would have been difficult for any one not know ing him, to recognize 
 in this plainly dressed individual the commander-in-chief of the 
 insurgent army encamped around, and still more difficult perhaps to 
 have believed that he was the ci-devant "cura" of Caracuaro, Don 
 Jose Maria Morelos y Pavon. And yet it was he. 
 
 Yes, the humble curate had raised the standard of independence 
 in the southern provinces; had long been carrying it with success; 
 and at this moment he was commander-in-chief of the insurgent for- 
 ces besieging Acapulco — that very town he had been ironically 
 empowered to take. 
 
 But notwithstanding the eccentric changes which civil war produ- 
 ces in the situations of men, the reader cannot be otherwise than 
 greatly astonished when told, that the gentleman who st^od in front 
 of Morelos, encased in the somewhat elegant uniform of a lieutenant 
 of cavalry, was the ci-dcvcuit student of theology — Don Cornelio 
 Lantejas. 
 
 By what magical interference had the timid student of theology- 
 been transformed into an officer of dragoons — m the army of the 
 insurgents, too. towards whose cause he had shown himself but in- 
 differently affected * 
 
 To explain this unexpected metamorphosis, it will be necessary to 
 enter into some details, continuing the history of the student from 
 the time when we left him on a fevered couch in the hacienda of 
 Las Palmas, till that hour when we find him in the marquee of the 
 insurgent general. 
 
 It may be stated, in advance, however, that the extraordinary 
 
132 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 transformation which we have noticed, was entirely owing to a new 
 act of parsimonious economy upon the part of Don Cornelio's 
 father, conducting him into a series of perilous mishaps and desper- 
 ate dangers, to which his adventure with the jaguars and rattlesnakes, 
 while suspended between the two tamarinds was nothing more, 
 according to the simile of Sancho Panza, than" tortas y pan pintado 
 (couleur de rose). To proceed, then, with the promised details. 
 
 On recovering from his temporary illness, the student traveled on 
 to the dwelling of his uncle. lie had been mounted in a more be- 
 coming manner, on a fine young horse, which Don Mariano — who 
 owned some thousands of the like — had presented to him. 
 
 Having sounded the disposit ons of the uncle, according to instruc- 
 tions, he made all haste in returning to his father's house ; which he 
 reached in less than half the time he had employed upon his previ- 
 ous journey. Too soon, perhaps; for, had he been delayed, as be- 
 fore, two months upon the route, he might have escaped the series 
 of frightful perils through which he was afterwards compelled to 
 pass. 
 
 Before setting out on his mission to the bachelor uncle, he had 
 finished his preliminary studies for the ecclesiastical calling ; and 
 it only remained for him to return to the college, and pre- 
 sent his thesis before the faculty of examiners, to take out his 
 orders. For this purpose it was necessary he should repair to Val- 
 ladolid, where the university was. To make the journey, his father 
 now provided him with an old she mule of the most unamiable dis- 
 position, which he had obtained in exchange for the young horse — • 
 the gift of Don Mariano — with a goodly number of dollars in 
 "boot." 
 
 Thus mounted, the student started on his new journey — carrying 
 with him the paternal blessing, and a long chapter of instructions, 
 as to how he should manage his mule, and keep himself clear of all 
 middling with insurrectionary matters. 
 
 After journeying for two days along the route to Valladolid, he 
 had arrived within sight of the straggling huts that compose the little 
 pueblitaof Caracuaro, when three horsemen appeared upon the road 
 in front, and riding towards him. 
 
 The student was at the moment occupied in passing through his 
 mind the rudiments of his theological education — which he had 
 gained from a crowd of books; and which, with some uneasiness, ho 
 found had been well nigh driven out of his head by his late adven- 
 tures in. the S^outh. 
 
 Just at that moment, when he was paying not the slightest atten 
 
A COURSE OF STUDY INTERRUPTED. 133 
 
 tion to his mule, the skittish animal, frightened by the approach of* 
 the horsemen, threw up her hind quarters, and pitched her rider upon 
 the road. As the latter fell, his head came in contact with a largo 
 stone, and with such violence as to deprive him of consciousness. 
 
 On coming to his senses again, he found himself seated against the 
 bank of the causeway, his head badly bruised, and above all without 
 his mule. The animal, profiting by the opportunity when the three 
 horsemen had alighted to look after her spilt rider, had headed about, 
 and taken the back track at full gallop ! 
 
 Of the three horsemen, one appeared to be the master, and the 
 other two his attendants. 
 
 " My son !" said the first, adressing the student, " your situation., 
 without being dangerous, is nevertheless sufficiently serious. You 
 will stand in need of that which you cannot obtain in the poor vil- 
 lage of Caracuaro / which is, moreover, nearly two leagues distant. 
 The best thing you can do is to mount behind one of my attendants 
 and ride back with us to the hacienda of San Diego, which we shall 
 reach in an hour. Your mule has taken that direction; and I shall 
 have her caught for you by the vaqueros of the hacienda. You will 
 need a day or two of repose, which you can there obtain. After- 
 wards you can. resume your route. Where were you going ?" 
 
 "To Yalladolid," replied Lantejas. "I was on my way to the 
 University, to enter into holy orders." 
 
 "Indeed! then we are of the same robe," rejoined the horseman 
 with a smile. " I myself am the. unworthy curate of Caracuaro — 
 Don Jose Maria Morelos — a name, I presume, you have never heard 
 before. 
 
 Jn troth the afterwards illustrious Morelos was at this time en- 
 tirely unknown to fame, and of course Don Corneiio had never 
 heard his name. 
 
 The student was no little astonished at the appearance of the man 
 who had thus announced himself as the cura of Caracuaro. For one 
 of the clerical calling his costume was altogether singular — to say 
 nothing of its being rather shabby. A double barreled gun, with 
 one barrel broken, hung from his saddle- bow, and an old rusty 
 sabre in a common leathern scabbard dangled against his horse's 
 side. 
 
 The two domestics were still more plainly attired ; and each car- 
 ried in his hand a huge brass blunderbuss. 
 
 " And you, Senor padre ?" inquired the student in turn. " WherQ 
 are you going, may I ask?"' 
 
 "17 Well,'' replied the cura, smiling as he spoke, '"Just as I 
 
IS4 ' THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 have told you — to the hacienda of San Diego. After to Acapufcn 
 — to capture the town and citadel, in obedience to an order I have 
 received." 
 
 Such were at this time the equipment and warlike resources ot the 
 general, whose name afterwards obtained such heroic renown ! 
 
 His response caused the candidate for holy orders to open his 
 eyes to the widest. He fancied that in the confusion of his head 
 he had not clearly comprehended the meaning of the curd's speech : 
 and he preferred this fancy to the alternative of supposing that the 
 worthy priest of Caracuaro was himself suffering from mental abber- 
 ation. 
 
 " What ! you an insurgent?" inquired Lantejas, not without some 
 apprehension. 
 
 " Very true. I am, and have been for a long time." 
 
 As neither upon the head of the euro, nor yet of his two servants, 
 there appeared those diabolical ornaments which had been promised 
 them by the Lord Bishop of Oajaca, Don Cornelio began to think 
 that perhaps all insurgents were not delivered over to the devil ; 
 and, as there was no alternative, he accepted the offer made to him, 
 and mounted behind one of the attendants. He, had made up his 
 mind, however, not to accompany the curate of Caracuaro further 
 than the hacienda of San Diego, and to make as short a stay as 
 possible in such suspicious company. But he had scarcely com- 
 pleted this satisfactory arrangement with his conscience, whei: the 
 burning rays of the sun shining down upon his head, caused a fer- 
 ment of the brain of so strange a character — that not only did the 
 idea of this insurrection, excited by priests, appear right and natural, 
 but he commenced chanting at the top of his voice a sort of impro- 
 vised war song, in which the Kin.; of Spain was mentioned in no 
 very eulogistic terms ! 
 
 From that time, till his arrival at the hacienda of San Diego, the 
 student was altogether unconscious of wiiat passed — and for several 
 days after, duiing which he remained under the influence of a burn- 
 ing fever. He had only a vague rememberanee of ugly dreams, in 
 which he appeared constantly surrounded by armed men, and as if 
 he was tossing about on a stormy sea ! 
 
 At length his consciousness returned, and on looking around he 
 was astonished to find himself in a small and poorly furnished 
 chamber. He now remembered his tumble from the mule, and his 
 encounter with the cura of Caracuaro. Finally feeling himself 
 strong enough to rise from his couch, he got up and staggered to- 
 
A. COURSE OF STUDY INTERRUPTER, j 35 
 
 wards the window — for the purpose of ascertaining the nature of a 
 noisy tumult that was heard outside. 
 
 The courtyard under the window was filled with armed men — 
 some afoot, others on horseback. Lances with gay pennons, sabres, 
 guns, and other weapons were seen on all sides, glancing under the 
 sunbeams. The horses were rearing and neighing — the men talking 
 loudly — in snort, the scene resembled the temporary halt of a corps 
 d'armee. 
 
 His weakness soon compelled the invalid to return to his couch, * 
 where he lay awaiting impatiently — the more so that he was half- 
 famished with hunger — the coming of some one who could give an 
 explanation of the strange circumstances by which he was sur- 
 rounded. 
 
 Shortly after, a man entered the chamber, whom the student 
 recognised as one of the attendants of the cura of Caracuaro. This 
 mini had come, on the part of his master, to inquire the state of the 
 invalid's health 
 
 "Where am \. friend? tell me that," eaid Lantejas, after having 
 answered the inquiries of the servant. 
 
 " At the hacienda of San Luis. ' 
 
 The student summoned all his recollections; but these only Car- 
 rie 1 him as far as the hacienda of San Diego. 
 
 '• You must be mistaken ?" said he.' "It is the hacienda of San 
 Diego, is it not ?" 
 
 " Oh, no," replied the domestic. " We left San Diego yesterday; 
 we were no longer safe there. What folly of you, senor, to act as 
 you did ! No matter how good a patriot one may be, its not neces- 
 sary to proclaim it from the housetops." 
 
 " 1 do not comprehend you, my good friend," said Lantejas. Per- 
 haps it is th ■ fever that is still troubling my head." 
 
 " What 1 hive said is clear enough," rejoined uhe domestic. 
 " We were obliged to quit San Diego, where the royalist troops 
 would have arrested us — on account of the loud declaration of his 
 political opinions made by a certain Don Cornelio Lantejas." 
 
 " Cornelio Lantejas !" cried the student, in a tone of anguish, 
 " why that's myself!" 
 
 " Par Bias ! I well know that. Your honour took good care 
 everybody should know your name : since out of the window of the 
 hacienda you shouted with all your voice — proclaiming my master 
 Generalissimo of all the insurgent forces ; and we had the greatest 
 difficulty to hinder you from inarching upon Madrid." 
 
 '•Madrid— in Spain?" 
 
1G6 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " Bah ! two hundred leagues of sea was nothing to you to tra 
 verse. ' It is I! ' you cried, '/, Cornelia Lantejas, who take upon 
 me to strike down the tyrant P In fine, we were obliged to decamp, 
 bringing you with us in a litter — for my master would not abandon 
 so zealous a partizan, who had compromised himself, moreover, in 
 the good cause. Well, we have arrived here at San Luis; where, 
 thanks to a strong body of men who have joined us, you may have 
 an opportunity of proclaiming your patriotism as loudly as you 
 please. For yourself, it can do no further harm, since, no doubt, 
 there is a price placed upon your head before this time." 
 
 The student listened with horror, and completely stupefied, to this 
 account of his actions. 
 
 "And now, eavallero," continued the domestic, "my mastor, 
 whom you were the first to proclaim Generalissimo, has not permit- 
 ted you to go without your reward. He has appointed you an uL 
 ferez, and named you to be his aid-de-camp. You will find your 
 commission under the pillow." 
 
 Saying this, the servant left the room, leaving the unhappy alferez 
 crushed beneath the weight of the astounding disclosures he had 
 made to him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. I, 
 
 A SOLDIER AGAINST HIS WILL. 
 
 As soon as the man had gone out of the apartment the student 
 looked under his pillow. Sure enough there lay a document, which 
 proved upon examination to be an ensign's commission, granted to 
 Don Cornelio Lantejas, and signed by the commander-in-chief of 
 the insurgent army — Don Jose Maria Morelos y Pavon. 
 
 An overwhelming anguish seized the spirit of the student ; and 
 once more he sprang from his couch and rushed towards the window. 
 This time it was with the design of disavowing all participation in 
 the insurrection — like the early Christians, who in the midst of an 
 idolatrous host of persecutors still continued to avow their faith in 
 God. 
 
 But the evil genius of Don Cornelio was yet by his side ; and, at 
 the moment when he was about opening his lips to deny all com- 
 plicity with the enemies of Spain his senses again gave way ; and 
 
A SOLDIEIl AGAINST !!IS WILL. 13? 
 
 without knowing what came out of his mouth, ha cried in a loud 
 voice, " Viva Mexico ! muere el ty run I" 1 Then, overcome by the 
 
 effort, he staggered back to Lis couch. 
 
 This time his syncope was of short duration. On recovering his 
 senses, he perceived that his bed was surrounded by armed men; 
 who, judging from their looks and speeches, were examining him 
 with more than ordinary interest. Among others he recognized 
 the voice of Morelos himself. 
 
 "How can one explain this sudden sympathy with our cause?" 
 Morelos was inquiring. "It seems as if the young man was under 
 the hallucination of his fever?'' 
 
 "Something more than that, General," suggested an officer of the 
 name of Valdovinos. "If the most ardent patriotism was not boil- 
 ing at the bottom, the foam would not thus rise to the surface." 
 
 " No matter !" rejoined Morelos, " but 1 cannot think that my 
 ascendency " 
 
 A new comer interrupted the speech of the cvra of Caracuaro, just 
 as Lantejas had got his eyes fairly open. This was a man of robust 
 and vigorous appearance, with a noble martial air, and a bold open 
 countenance. His large beard, and hair slightly grizzled, betrayed 
 his age to bo near fifty. 
 
 "And why not, General ?" said he. taking hold of the hand which 
 Morelos stretched out to him. " Why should not this brave young 
 man have submitted to your ascendency at first sight, just as 1 have 
 done? It is only this morning I have seen you for the first time, 
 and yet you have no follower more devoted than myself. I shall 
 answer for this young stranger. He is one of us, beyond doubt." 
 
 As the new comer pronounced these words, he cast upon Lantejas 
 a glance so winning and at the same time so severe, that it com- 
 pletely subjugated the spirit of the student with a sort of invincible 
 charm, and hindered him from making any attempt to contradict 
 the engagement which was thus made in his name. On the contra- 
 ry, he rather confirmed it with an involuntary gesture, which he 
 could not restrain himself from making. 
 
 The man who had thus intervened was he whom historians delight 
 to call the grand, the terrible, the invincible Hermenegildo Galeana 
 • — the Murat of the Mexican revolution ; he who afterwards, in more 
 than a hundred actions, was seen to place his lance in rest, and dash 
 into the thickest of the enemy's lines, like a god of battles, vocifer- 
 ating his favourite war-cry. Aqui exta Galeana/ (Here comes Ga- 
 leana !) A redoubtable on^my — a friend tender and devoted--su cn 
 was Don Hermenejiildo Galeana. 
 
138 THE TiGER-IIUNTER. 
 
 More fortunate than Murat, Galeana met his death on the battle- 
 field, m the midst of hosts slain by his own hand. Stil! more for- 
 tunate than the French warrior, he died faithful to the principles as 
 well as to the man to whom he had consecrated his life. 
 
 «■' Well— however the thing may bo," said Valdovinos, pursuing 
 the subject of Don Cornelio's dubious patriotism, " 1 know this, that 
 General Calleja has set a price upon this young man's head as well 
 as on our own." 
 
 "Come. Alferez Don Cornelio!" added Galeana, "get ready to 
 start in the morning; and show yourself worthy of the commission 
 that has been bestowed upon you. You will soon find opportunity, 
 [ promise you." 
 
 At that moment the report of a cannon reverberated under the 
 window, to the astonishment of Morelos himself : who had not yet 
 been made aware that he had a piece of artillery under his orders. 
 
 " Senor General/' said Galeana, explaining the presence of the 
 gun, " that cannon is part of the patrimonial inheritance of our fami- 
 ly. Wha;. a Galeana is born or one dies, it serves to signalise our 
 joy or our sorrow. To-day we consecrate it to the service of the 
 whole Mexican family. It is yours, as our swords and lives are 
 yours.'' 
 
 As Galeana finished speaking, he advanced towards the window ; 
 and in that formidable voice which often struck terror into the hearts 
 of ih' Spaniards, he cried out — " Viva e, General Morelos /" 
 
 Responsive vivas rose up from the court below, mingled with the 
 clanking oi saores, as they leaped forth from their scabbards, and 
 the crashing jar of fusils dashed heavily against the pavement , 
 while the horses, catching up the general enthusiasm, sent forth a 
 loud, wild neighing. 
 
 In another instant the chamber was emptied of its guests. Mor- 
 elos had gone down into the courtyard to press the hands of his 
 new adherents and the other officers had followed him. 
 
 Far from partaking of the universal warlike ardour, the student 
 was suffering at the moment the most terrible anguish of heart. 
 The thought of his theological studies being thus interrupted, in 
 order that he might figure in the middle of an insurgent camp, was 
 rendering him completely miserable ; but still more the unpleasant 
 i .formation he had just received, that he had been declared a rebel, 
 and. that a price was set upon his head. All this, too, had been 
 brought about by the shameful stinginess of his father, in providing 
 him with that sorry mule — just as his former misfortunes had arisen, 
 from his having no better horse than the old steed of the picador. 
 
A SOLDIER AGAINST HIS WILL. 139 
 
 It is scarce necessary to say, that under these circumstances he 
 1 a wretched night of it, and that his dreams were a continued 
 series of horrid visions. He fancied himself engaged in numerous 
 sanguinarv battles : and that the insurgent army in which he was 
 enrolled ffad suddenly changed into a legion of demons, with horns 
 and hoofs ! 
 
 •On Waking with the first dawn of day, his dreams, instead of 
 being terminated; appeared to be continued. He heard a noisy tu- 
 mult in the court below ; and rising far above the general clamour 
 could be distinguished a strange trumpet-like sound, now shrill, now 
 hoarsely bellowing — as if the fiend himself was sounding the signal 
 of "Boots and Saddles" to his infernal legions. Bathed in a cold 
 sweat, he started up from his couch; and approaching the window, 
 cast a glance into the court-yard. As before, he saw 7 that it was 
 crowded with armed men in every kind of equipment. The cannon 
 was there, standing in the middle of the court. A negro was reload- 
 ing it. It was not without surprise that Don Cornelio recognised in 
 the negro the same man who, along with the tiger-hunter, had con- 
 ducted him to the hacienda of Las Palmas. 
 
 Yes, the artillerist was no other than Clara ; who was thus impro- 
 vised as full commander of the solitary piece of cannon — the first 
 which Morelos had at his disposal, and which, under the name of 
 El Nino, became afterwards so celebrated in the history of the Mexi- 
 can revolution. The student also saw the instrument that had been 
 bellowing forth those infernal tones, which he had been fancying he 
 had h.ard before. His fancy was not at fault, as he now ascertained 
 — on seeing near the cannon a tall Indian, who was holding to his 
 lips an immense sea-shell, from which proceeded the mysterious 
 sounds. It was Costal and his conch, at that moment performing the 
 metier of first bugler in the army of Morelos. Morelos himself, 
 surrounded by a staff of officers, stood at one end of the spacious 
 courtyard, in the act of distributing fusils to the newly enrolled 
 troi ips. 
 
 Lantejas perceived the necessity of making ready for the departure 
 which was evidently about to take place; and having dressed him- 
 self, he descended to the court and mingled among other officers — 
 beyond doubt the most lugubrious ensign in all the insurgent 
 army. 
 
 The first person he encountered was the terrible Galeana ; and he 
 trembled lest the piercing glance of the warrior should detect under 
 the lion's skin the heart of the hare. 
 
 Luckily for him, however, Galeana had at that moment something 
 
I -10 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 else to think of, than to scrutinize the thoughts of an obscure ensign ; 
 and all the rest were deceived by the martial air which he had done 
 his best to assume. 
 
 Morelos, as stated, was at the moment making a distribution of 
 fusils, a large quantity of which appeared by his side piled along 
 the pavement of the courtyard. 
 
 It is necessary to explain how these arms had fallen so appropr- 
 iately into the hands of the insurgent genera] — which ihey had 
 done by a circumstance that might appear almost providential. 
 
 Whilst retiring from the hacienda of San Luis, on account of th^ 
 insane demonstrations of the student, and with the latter transported 
 in a litter, Morelos encountered near San Diego the insurgent lead- 
 er, Don liafael Valdovinos. The latter, already at the head of a 
 small guerilla, was just on his way to join the euro of Caracura. 
 
 Having received information that the Spanish Government had 
 forwarded a large number of fusils to the neighbouring village of 
 Petitlan, for the purpose of equipping a corps of militia belonging 
 to that place, the insurgent general thought that these guns might 
 serve better in the hands of his own followers; and with the band 
 of Valdovinos he made a rapid march upon Petitlan. and succeeded 
 in capturing them. 
 
 The rumour of this dashing action had reached San Diego before 
 Morelos himself; and, shortly after his arrival there, his troops were 
 further strengthened by the followers of Galeana — who stood in 
 need of this well-timed supply of weapons. 
 
 Almost on the instant that Lantejas presented himself in the 
 courtyard, the cannon, El Nino, thundered forth another discharge, 
 It was the signal of departure ; and the little army, putting itself in 
 motion, marched off from the hacienda of San Diego — the new aL 
 ferez taking his place with the rest. 
 
 Morelos was shortly after joined by other Partizans, till his troop 
 had grown into a small army ; and, after two months of lung mar- 
 ches, and sharp skirmishes with Spanish troops — out of which he al. 
 ways issued victorious — the insurgent general found himself in front 
 of the town of Acapulco, on the Pacific Ocean. lie was now besieg- 
 ing that place — which he had been ironically commanded to take — 
 and with a fair prospect of obtaining its speedy surrender. 
 
 As for the student of theology, two month's campaigning had 
 somewhat soldierized him. He had obtained a jjreat reputation for 
 
4 SOLDIER AGAINST HIS WILL. 14J 
 
 courage; although his heart in moments of danger had often been 
 upon the point of failing him. 
 
 On the first occasion that he was under fire, he was by the side of 
 Don Hermeuegildo Galeana, who had acquired a complete ascendan- 
 cy over him, and whose terrible glances he more dreaded than even 
 th ■ presence of the enemy. 
 
 Do 1 iljrmenegildo of course fought in the foremost rank ; where, 
 with his lance and long sabre, he was accustomed to open a wide 
 circle arounJ his horse, that no enemy dared to intrude upon, and 
 which, for the sword of the trembling ensign, left absolutely nothing 
 to do. Lantejas having learnt, in the first encounter, the advantage 
 of" this position, ever afterwards took care to keep well up with the 
 redoubtable Don Hermeuegildo. 
 
 There was another man, who, from habit, always fought alongside 
 Galeana, and who scarce yielded to the latter either in courage or 
 dexterity. This was Costal, the Zapoteque ; and protected by these 
 two, as by a pair of guardian angels, Lantejas scarce ran any dan- 
 ger in the hottest fight ; while at the same time he was constantly 
 gaining fresh laurels by keeping the position. 
 
 For all this, his glory sat upon him like a burden too heavy for 
 his back, and one that he was not able to cast from his shoulders. 
 To desert from the insurgent army was impossible : a price was set 
 upon his head. Besides, Morelos had given to that corner of the 
 Sabana river occupied by his camp the quaint title of Paso de la 
 etertiidad (the road to eternity) — to signify that, whoever should at- 
 tempt either to abandon the intrenchments, or make an attack upon 
 them, would be forced to embark upon that long journey. 
 
 Lantejas had already written to his father, informing him of all 
 that had happened ; how — thanks to the valuable roadster with 
 which his parent had provided him — he was now sustaining his thesis 
 with the sword ; and that, instead of having only his hair shorn, he 
 was more likely to lose his head. 
 
 To these letters — for there had been several written by him — he 
 had at length received a response. This, after complimenting him 
 upon the valorous deeds he had achieved — and which his worthy 
 parent had hardly expected to hear of — ended by informing him 
 that the latter had obtained from the Viceroy a promise of pardon 
 for him, on the condition of his forsaking the insurgent cause, and 
 throwing the weight of his sword into that of Spain. 
 
 This condition was hardly to the taste of Lantejas. In the ranks 
 of the Spanish army he might seek in vain for two such protectors 
 as he now had by his side. Moreover, were he to join the Spaniards, 
 
142 THE TIGER-IIUNTER. 
 
 he mignt some day, as an enemy, be brought face to face with the 
 
 formidable Galeana ! The very thought of such a contingency was 
 
 h to make his hair stand on end J 
 
 . It was some time before ii^ could bring himself to any definite 
 
 r as to what heshould do, At length, however, he resolved 
 
 irse of action. Instead of attempting to run away from 
 
 the insurgent ranks, he determined to say nothing to the General 
 
 the contents of hi • letter, but to obtain from him, if 
 
 possible, a short leave of absence : which it was his intention should 
 
 be prolonged to an indefinite period. 
 
 It was for this purpose he had entered the General's tent, and was 
 now standing, hat in hand, in front of the Cammander-in-Chief of 
 the besieging army. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 PFPE GAGO. 
 
 Besides his military chapeau, the lieutenant of cavalry held in his 
 hand a piece of folded paper; and although lie had already stated 
 his errand, his countenance exhibited considerable embarrassment. 
 
 " What, leave of absence ?" said the General, smiling benignant- 
 iy upon his aid-de-camp. " You, friend Lantejas — you think of 
 quitting us? and at such a time, too, when all is going well?" 
 
 " It is necessity, General, that drives me to make the application. 
 There are family affairs that require me at home, and " Lante- 
 jas here paused, as if inwardly ashamed of the deceit he was prac- 
 tising. " Besides, General, to say the truth, this soldier's life is not 
 suited to me, nor 1 to it. I was born to be a priest, and would 
 greatly desire to complete my theological studies, and enter upon 
 that career to which my inclinations lead me. Now that success has 
 crowned your army, you will no longer require mef 
 
 " Viva Oristo /" exclaimed Morelos, "not require you! Ah, 
 friend Lantejas, you are too valiant a soldier of the Church mili- 
 tant to be spared so easily as that. Like that faithful adherent of 
 some French king, whose name 1 do not now remember, you would 
 be the very man to wish yourself hanged if Acapulco were taken 
 without you. I must refuse your application, then, although I see 
 it vexes you. I refuse it, because I am too well satisfied with your 
 
PEPE GAGO. 143 
 
 Services to let you go. You were my first follower; and do you 
 know what people say, that the throe bravest men In our little army 
 are Don H il Jo Gileaiia, Manuel Costal and yourself 1 And 
 
 what at thi it still more endears you to me is, that you pro- 
 
 i showering her favours upon me; 
 reverse is usually what may 
 I. 1 have just heard that tlia Captain Don Francisco 
 een killed in the affair of Tonalte.pec. You will re- 
 place him in the command of his company — Now'? Captain Lan- 
 h-ju V 
 
 Ihe new captain bowed his thanks m silence, and was about to 
 retire. 
 
 " Do not go yet !" commanded the General ; " 1 have something 
 more to say to you. You have, I believe, some relative or relatives 
 living near Tehuantepec. Well, I have a commission for some one 
 to that part of the country, and 1 require a man of courage and pru- 
 dence to execute it. I have thought of sending you, as soon as we 
 have taken Acapulco — which 1 trust will be in a very short 
 time." 
 
 Lantejas was about to open nis mouth, and inquire the nature of 
 th'.s confidential mission, when he was interrupted by the entrance 
 i.f two men into the tent. One of these was Costal the Indian; the 
 other was a stranger both to Morelos and the captain. The latter 
 was again about to retire, when Morelos signed him to stay. 
 
 '• There's the General,'' said Costal, pointing out the commander- 
 in-chief to the man who accompanied him, and who was in the cos- 
 tume of a Spanish officer. 
 
 The hitter regarded for an instant, and not without surprise, the 
 
 simply clad individual whose name at that moment had become so 
 
 v renowned. Although evidently a person of imperturbable 
 
 coolness, the stranger said nothing, leaving it to the General to open 
 
 the conversation. 
 
 •• Who are vou, my friend, and what do you want?' inquired 
 STorelos. 
 
 "To speak a word in confidence with you," replied the man. 
 "This individual," continued he, pointing to Costal, "whom 1 en- 
 countered philosophising upon the sea-beach, has promised me that 
 his word would i nable me to obtain an interview with your Excel- 
 lency, and safe conduct through your camp. On this promise I 
 have followed him." 
 
 " Costal," said the General, "was my first bugler, and with his 
 ptreat conch sounded the signals to less than t\1enty horsemen, who 
 
144 TUG TIGER -HUNTER. 
 
 fit that time composed my whole army. 1 confirm the parole he baa 
 given you. Speak freely." 
 
 " With your Excellency's permission, then, my name is Pepe 
 Gago. I am a Gallieian, an officer of artillery, and command a bat- 
 tery in the castle of Acapulco — which your Excellency, if I am not 
 mistaken, desires to capture." 
 
 " It is a pleasure which 1 intend affording in v self one of these 
 days." 
 
 '• Perhaps your Excellency is confounding the castle with the 
 town ? The latter you can take whenever it pleases you." * 
 
 " I know that." 
 
 " But you would not be able to hold it, so long as we are masters 
 of the citadel." 
 
 " I know that also." 
 
 " Ah, then, your Excellency, we are likely to understand one 
 another." 
 
 " It is just for that reason that I decline taking the town till I have 
 first, captured the castle." 
 
 "Now I think we are still nearer comprehending each other: 
 since it is just that which you wish to have, that 1 come to offer 
 you. I will not say to sell: for my price will be so moderate that 
 it will deserve rather to be called a gift I am making you. Apropos, 
 however, of the price — is your Excellency in funds ?" 
 
 " Well, you have heard, no doubt, that I have just captured from 
 the Spanish general, Paris, eleven hundred fusils, five pieces of 
 cannon — to say nothing of the eight hundred prisoners we have made 
 — and ten thousand dollars in specie. That is about ten times the 
 price of a fortress, which in a short* time I may have for nothing." 
 " Be not so sure of that, your Excellency. We have no scarcity 
 
 of provisions. The Isle of Roqueta " 
 
 " i shall capture that also." 
 
 "Serves us," continued the Spaniard, without noticing the inter- 
 ruptio:i, " as a port of supply, by which the ships can always throw 
 provisions into the castle. But not to dispute the point, am I to 
 understand that your Excellency fixes the price at a thousand dol- 
 lars ? I agree to that sum. You say you have captured ten thou- 
 sand. Unfortunately for me, I have the opportunity of selling the 
 fortress only once." 
 
 "A thousand dollars down, do you mean'?" inquired the Gen- 
 eral. 
 
 " Oh, no," replied the artilleryman; "what security would you 
 
PETE GAGO. 145 
 
 have of my keeping my word ? Five hundred eash down, and the 
 balance when the castle is delivered up to you."' 
 
 " Agreed ! And now, Senor Pope Gago, " what are your means 
 for bringing about the surrender?" 
 
 11 1 shall have the command of the portcullis guard from two till 
 five to-morrow morning. A lantern hung up on the bridge of 
 Homos to advise me of your approach — a password between us — 
 an 1 your presence. I presume your Excellency will not yield to 
 any one the taking of the place ?" 
 
 " I shall be there in person," replied Moreles. " With regard to 
 the password, here it is." 
 
 The General handed to the Gallician a scrap of paper, on which 
 he had written two words, which neither Costal nor Lantejas were 
 near enough to read. 
 
 A somewhat prolonged conversation was now commenced be- 
 tween Morelos and PepeGago, but carried on in a tone so low that 
 the others did not understand its import. At length the Spaniard 
 was about to take his departure, when Costal, advancing towards 
 him, laid his hand firmly on his shoulder. 
 
 " Listen to me, Pepe Gago !" said he to the Gallician in a serious 
 voice. " It is I who am responsible for you here; but I swear by 
 the bones of the Caciques of Tehuantepec — from whom I have the 
 undoubted honour of being descended — if you play traitor in this 
 affair, look out for Costal, the Zapoteque. Though you may dive 
 like the sharks to the bottom of the ocean, or like the jaguars hide 
 yourself in the thickest jungles of the forest, you shall not escape, 
 any more than shark or jaguar, from my carbine or my knife. I 
 have said it." 
 
 The Spaniard again repeated his declarations of good faith, and 
 retired from the tent under the safe conduct of Costal. 
 
 " By-and-by," said the General to Lantejas when the others had 
 gone, *I shall speak to you upon the mission T intend sending you 
 upon. Meanwhile, go and get some rest, as I shall want you at an 
 early hour in the morning. At four o'clock I shall myself take a 
 party of men up to the eastle. As it is best that no one should know 
 our intention, you and Costal must hang a lantern on the bridge of 
 Hornos. That is to be the signal for our approach to the gate." 
 
 Saying this, the commander-in-chief dismissed his captain — who 
 strode forth out of his marquee, with no very sanguine anticipations 
 of obtaining a tranquil night's rest. 
 
V(> THE TIGER-HUNTER, 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE SECRET SIGNAL. 
 
 The fortress castle of Acapulco stands at some little distance from 
 the town, commanding the latter. It is built upon the summit of 
 the cliffs that encloses the Acapulco Bay — against whose base the 
 waves of the South Sea are continually breaking. On each side of 
 the fortress a deep ravine or barranca pierces the precipice down to 
 the depths of the ocean — so that the castle stands upon a sort of 
 island promitory or voladero. The cliff upon the right (lank of the 
 castle is called the Voladero de los Homos; and over the ravine be- 
 tween it and the citadel stretches a narrow bridge called El Puentu 
 de los Homos. 
 
 Early in the following morning — while the insurgent camp was in 
 some confusion consequent upon an unexpected order from the com- 
 mander-in-chief, and while a strong detachment was getting under 
 arms, not knowing where they were to be conducted — Caj tain Den 
 Cornelio Lantejas and Costal the Indian were seen gliding silently 
 along the sea-beach in the direction of the fortress. 
 
 The night was still dark — for it wanted yet two hours to sunrise 
 — and both the town and castle_were wrapped in the most profound 
 slumber. The only sounds heard distinctly were the continuous 
 murmuring of the waves as they broke along the beach. 
 
 The two men, after cautiously advancing towards the black cliff, 
 on which stood the fortress, commenced climbing upward. It was 
 not without much exertion, and danger too, that they at length suc- 
 ceeded in ascending to the bridge of Eos Homos. 
 
 The Indian now struck a light ; and kindling a resin candle, v Inch 
 he carried inside his lantern, he hung the latter to a post that stood 
 near the middle of the bridge, fixing it in such a manner that the light 
 should shine in the direction of the fortress. It was the signal agreed 
 
THE SECRET SIGNAL. 147 
 
 upon by the Gallieian ; and as their part of the performance was no-," 
 over, the two men sat down to await the attack which was soon to 
 be made by the General in person. 
 
 The position which they occupied commanded an extensive view 
 — taking in the town, the castle, and the ocean. Of the thre.e e xhv 
 last-mentioned alone' gave out any sound; and Lantcjas, after a 
 time, ceased watching the two former, and involuntarily bent his 
 regards upon the sea. 
 
 Costal was also turning his eyes upon the great deep, on which 
 everything migfrt also have appeared asleep, but that at intervals a 
 narrow line of light might be seen gleaming along the black surface 
 of the water. 
 
 "There's a storm in the air," muttered Costal to his companion 
 in a solem 1 tone of voice. " See, how the sharks are shining in the 
 roadway !"' 
 
 As Costal spoke, half-a-dozen of these voracious creatures, in 
 search of prey, were seen quartering the waters of the bay — cross- 
 ing each other's course, and circling around, like lire-flies over the 
 surface of a savanna. 
 
 " Whit think yon," continued the ci-devant ligrero, " would be- 
 come of the man who should chance to fall overboard among those 
 silent swinm ».rs \ Many a time, for all that, have I braved that 
 same danger — in the days when 1 followed pearl-diving for my pro- 
 fession." 
 
 Don Cornelio made no reply, but the thought of being among 
 the sharks at that moment sent a shivering through his frame. 
 
 " I was in no danger whatever," continued the Indian. "Neither 
 the sharks nor the tigers — which I afterwards also hunted as a pro- 
 fession — could prevail against one destined to live as long as the 
 ravens. Soon I shall be half-a-century old ; and then quien sale ? 
 At present, perhaps, no one here except myself could swim in the 
 midst of those carniverous creatures without the danger of certain 
 death. / could do it without the slightest risk." 
 
 "Is that the secret of your courage, Costal — of which you give 
 bo many proofs ?" 
 
 " Yes, and no," replied the Indian. " Danger attracts me, as your 
 body would attract the sharks. It is an instinct which I follow — not 
 a bravado. Anoth r reason, perhaps, gives me courage. I seek to 
 avenge in Spanish blood the assassination of my forefathers. What 
 care I for the political emancipation of you Creoles ? But it is not 
 of this 1 wish to speak now. Look yonder ! Do you see anything 
 down there?" 
 
148 THE TIGER-TfUN'TER. 
 
 A strange object just then came under the eyes of Lantejas, which 
 caused liini to make a movement of superstitious terror. Costal 
 only smiled, while gazing upon the object. 
 
 A dark human-like form, with a sort of tufted hair, hanging lose- 
 ly over its head, had emerged from the water, and was supporting 
 itself by its two arms upon the beach — as if resting there like some 
 bather fatigued with swimming. 
 
 " What is it ?" inquired Lantejas in a troubled tone — the more so 
 that a plaintive whine seemed to proceed from this singular object, 
 which, with somewhat of the form of a woman, had nothing human 
 in its voice. 
 
 " A manatee" responded Costal ; " an amphibious creature we 
 call -pesca-jnujer — that is, half-fish, half- woman Dare you stand 
 face to face with a creature still more human-like in form — ah! 
 more perfect than any human creature V 
 
 " What do you mean?" inquired Lantejas. 
 
 •• Senor Captain Don Cornelio," continued the Indian, " you are 
 so l>rave in the face of the enemy ■" 
 
 ;{ Hum !" interrupted Lantejas with an embarrassed air, kC the 
 bravest has his moments of weakness, do you see ?" 
 
 An avowal of his want of courage — though on certain occasions 
 the ex-student of theology was not lacking this quality — was upon 
 the tongue of Lantejas, when Costal interrupted him with a 
 rejoinder — 
 
 " Yes, yes. You arc like Clara — although a little braver than he, 
 since he has not had such an opportunity to cultivate an acquaint- 
 ance with the tigers, as you. Well, then, if you were to see down 
 on the beach yonder, in place of the manatee, a beautiful creature 
 rise up out of the deep — a beautiful woman with dishevelled locks 
 — her long hair dripping and shining with the water, and she sing- 
 ing as she rose to the surface; and were you to know that this 
 woman, although visible to your eyes, was only a spirit, only of air 
 — what would you do ?" 
 
 " A very simple thing," answered the cx-student, " I should feel 
 terribly afraid." 
 
 " Ah ! then I have nothing more to say to you," replied the 
 Indian, with an air of disappointment. "For a certain objeet 1 had 
 in view, I was in search of a comrade, one with more courage than 
 Clara. I must content myself wLfh the negro. I expected that 
 you — never mind — we need not talk any more about the matter." 
 
 The Indian did not add a single word ; and the officer whose fears 
 were excited by the half-eonfidences of his c mipanion, was silent 
 
THE SECRET SIGXAL. 149 
 
 also. Both awaitlrg to hear the sounds of the attack upon the 
 castle, continued to gaze upon the vast mysterious ocean, in which 
 the luminous tracks of the sharks and the dark body of the manatee 
 alone animated its profound solitude. 
 
 They were thus seated in silence, with their eyes wandering over 
 the dark blue surface of the water, when all at once the manatee 
 Was heard to plunge under the waves, uttering a melancholy cry as 
 it went down. Just then a loud booming of a cannon drowned the 
 voice of the amphibious creature. 
 
 " The castle is taken !" cried Lantejas. 
 
 " No," replied Costal, " on the contrary, Pepe Gago has betrayed 
 us. 1 fear our General has been tricked." 
 
 Several discharges of cannon followed on the instant, confirming 
 Costal's surmise; and the two men, hastening to have their danger- 
 ous post by the bridge of Hornos, retreated towards a narrow defile 
 called the Ojo de Ayiia. There they saw the Mexican detachment 
 scattered, and in full retreat towards their encampment. A man 
 standing in the middle of the path was trying to intercept their 
 flight. 
 
 " Cowards !" cried he " will you pass over the body of your 
 General ?" 
 
 Many halted, and, returning, made an attack upon the works of 
 the citadel. But it was to no purpose : the gate was too well de- 
 fended ; and a discharge of grape had the effect not only of terrify, 
 ing the assailants, but also krlled several of their number. 
 
 M< relos now saw that he had been betrayed, and caused the re. 
 treat to be sounded. It was the first check he had experienced dur- 
 ing a victorious ca eer of months. 
 
 ****** 
 
 The day had not yet dawned, when two men were seen advanc- 
 ing from the direction of the insurgent camp towards the bridge of 
 Los Hornos. One of these men was Costal, but this time he was 
 accompanied by Clara the negro. The resin candle still burned 
 within the lantern, but giving out a more feeble light, as the first 
 steaks of day, began to succeed to the darkness of night. 
 
 ''You see that lantern, Clara?" said Costal, pointing out the 
 glimmering light to his companion. " You know what it "was hung 
 there for: since I have just told you. But you haven't yet heart} 
 the vow I have taken against the traitor who has so plajed with us, 
 1 shall tell you now." 
 
loO THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 And Costal proceeded to disclose to his old camarado the oath he 
 had registered against Pepe Gago. 
 
 '•Devil take me !"' said Clara in reply, " if I can see how you 
 will ever be able to fulfil your vow." 
 
 " No more do I," rejoined Costal, " but as I have promised Pepe 
 Gigothathe should not forget the lantern on the bridge of Los 
 Homos, and as J am determined he shall have a sight of it now and 
 ilien, to keep his memory awake, I don't see why I should leave it 
 h?re to be picked off by the first coiner. At all events, it is no Ion 
 ger needed as a signal." 
 
 Saying this, the Indian took down the lantern from the post, and 
 blew out the light. 
 
 " Here, Clara " he continued, "help me to make a hole. I in. 
 tend hiding it — so that 1 can get it again, whenever I may want 
 it."' 
 
 The two men kneeling down, and using the blades of their knives, 
 soon carved out a hollow place, in which Costal deposited the lamp 
 still containing the resin candle. 
 
 " Now, friend Clara," said the Indian, as soon as they had covered 
 it in, " sit down here, and let us try if we can't think of some way 
 to capture this castle, as ell as the jricaro who is within it." 
 
 "Willingly, I will," answered the black; and seating themselves 
 siile by side, the two associates commenced with all due gravity 
 their .iiportant deliberation. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE ISLE OF ROQUEIA 
 
 While thus on the summit of the Voladsro los de Homos the In. 
 dian Costal and the negro Clara were debating between themselves 
 how the castle might be captured — the same subject was being dis. 
 mussed by two persons of more importance in the tent of the insur. 
 gent general, these were Morelos himself, and Don IlermenegildG 
 Galeana — now usually styled the " Marshal," to distinguish him from 
 another Galeana his own nephew, who was also an officer in the 
 insurgent army. 
 
 The countenance of Morelos had not yet cast off the shadow caused 
 by the failure of their assault upon the castle; and his garments 
 were still soiled with dust, which, under the agitation of violent 
 passions, he disdained to wipe off. 
 
 The brow cf the Marshal was also clouded ; but that was rather 
 by reflecting the unpleasant thoughts that were troubling the spirit 
 of his well-beloved General : for no care of his own ever darkened 
 the countenance of the war-like Galeana. 
 
 A chart of the bay and roadstead of Acapulco lay upon the table 
 before them, illuminated by two candles, whose light was every mo- 
 ment becoming paler, as the day -began to break into the tent. 
 
 They had been for some time engaged in discussing the important 
 matter in question. The Marshal had been endeavoring to press 
 upon the General the necessity of at least capturing the town ; since 
 the troops were not only badly provided with tents and other equi- 
 page, but w r ere in such a position among the burning sands, that it 
 was difficult to transport provisions to the camp. Moreover, the 
 situation on the river's bank was exceedingly unhealthy ; and fever 
 was daily thinning the ranks, and prostrating some of their best 
 soldiers. The Marshal urged, that, once irftide the town, they would 
 at least be better lodged, while many other evils might be avoided. 
 The town could not hold out against a determined assault. It might 
 be carried by a coup de main. 
 
15*2 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " I know m!1 that, my dear Marshal,'" said Morelos, in reply to the 
 arguments of Galeana : '' we can easily take the town, but the castle 
 will still hold out, provisioned as it can always be through this un- 
 fortunate Isle of Uoqueta, with which the garrison is able to keep up 
 a constant communication-." 
 
 The Isle in question lay in the roadway of Acapulco, two short 
 leagues from the town. There was a small fort upon it, with a 
 Spanish garrison; and at the anchorage connected with this fort 
 the Spanish ships, occasionally arriving with supplies for the fortress, 
 could discharge their cargoes, to be afterwards transport d to t£e 
 castle in boats. 
 
 " Let us first capture Roqueta, then ?" suggested Galeana. 
 
 "I fear the enterprise would be too perilous,*' replied Morelos ; 
 " we have scarce boats enough to carry sixty men — besides, the isle 
 is two leagues out to sea ; and just at this season storms may be 
 looked lor every hour — to sa\ nothing of a mere handful of men 
 landing to attack a strong garrison behind their entrenchments.'' 
 
 " We can take th an by surprise,*' continued the intrepid Maria- 
 cat. "Leave it, to me, General ; I care not tor the danger. In the 
 glory of your name I shall undertake to capture La Roqueta." 
 
 "A perilous enterprise!*' repeated Morelos, half in soliloquy. 
 "Yes, friend Galeana," continued he, once more addressing himself 
 to his Marshal, "although you have taught me to believe in the 
 success of any enterprise you may undertake, this is really of such 
 a nature as to require serious consideration.'' 
 
 " Never fear for the result, Senor General ! I promise to cap- 
 ture the isle on one condition." 
 
 " what is it r 
 
 "That as soon as you see my signal, announcing that 1 have mas- 
 tered the garrison of Roqueta, you will take the town of Acapulco. 
 Your Excellency will agree to that?" 
 
 Morelos remained for a moment thoughtful, and apparently re- 
 luctant to permit so perilous an pttempt. 
 
 Just at that moment a rocket was seen ascending into the air, and 
 tracing its curving course against the still sombre background of the 
 sky. It hid evidently been projected from the fort of Roqueta, 
 which in daylight would have been visible from the camp of the in- 
 surgents. Morelos and his Marshal, through the open entrance of 
 the marquee, saw the rocket and conjectured it to be some signal 
 for the garrison on the isle to the besieged within the fortress. 
 Almost on the instant, this conjecture was confirmed by anotheF 
 rocket seen rising from the citadel upon the summit of the cliffs, 
 
THE ISLE OF ROQUETA. 153 
 
 and in turn tracing its blue line across the heavens. It was evident- 
 ly the answer. 
 
 For some minutes the General and Galeana remained within the 
 marquee, endeavoring to conjecture the object of these fiery tele- 
 graphs. They had not succeeded in arriving at any satisfactory com 
 elusion, when the General's aid-de-camp, Captain Lantejas, entered 
 the tent. His errand was to announee to the Commander-in-Chief 
 that Costa!, the scout, had just arrived in the encampment as the 
 • of some important inteilig 
 
 " Will your Excellency permit him to come in ?" request 1 1'ie 
 M ' :i. " This Indian has . 
 
 ■los signified assent, and the next moment the luJ.an entered 
 the tent. 
 
 " Senor General!" said he, after having received permission to 
 speak, " I have just been up to the cliff of Los Hornos, and through 
 the sjrey dawn I have seen a schooner at anchor by the isle of Ro- 
 queta. She must have arrived during the night : since she was not 
 there yesterdav." 
 
 " Well, what of it, friend Costal V 
 
 "Why, General, I was just thinking how easy it would be for a 
 party of us, after it gets dark, to slip up alongside, and take poses- 
 sion of her. Once masters of that schooner " 
 
 " We could intercept all the supplies destined for the castle," im- 
 petuously interrupted Galeana; "and then we shall reduce it by 
 famine. Senor General, it is God who speaks by the mouth of this 
 Indian. Your Excellency will no longer refuse the permission which 
 I have asked P 
 
 It is true, the danger apprehended was not diminished by the 
 
 ice of the schooner ; but, overcome by the earnest appeals of 
 
 the Marsh. 1, and the prospect of the important results which would 
 
 certainly arise from the possession of the vessel, Morelos at length 
 
 coisented to the attempt being made. 
 
 " if I know how to read the clouds," said Costal, whose counsel 
 on this point was now requested, " I should say, from the way in 
 which the sun is now rising, we shall have a dark calm day and 
 night — at least, until- the hour of midnight " 
 
 "After midnight?" demanded the Marshal. 
 
 " A tempest and a howling sea," replied Costal. " But before 
 that time the schooner and the isle of Roqueta may be ours." 
 
 " Shall be ours !" cried Galeana, with enthusiasm. 
 
 In fine, and before the council broke up, the enterprise was planned. 
 The expedition was to be commanded by the Marshal, accompanied 
 
154 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 by his nephew, the younger Galeana, while Lantcjas was to be the 
 captain of a canoe, with Costal under his orders. 
 
 "The brave Don Cornelio would never forgive us," said Galeana, 
 ** if we were to perform this exploit without him." 
 
 The captain smiled as he endeavored to assume a war-like ex- 
 pression of countenance. He thought to himself, however, how- 
 much more to his taste it would be to have been deprived of 
 the privilege accorded to him. But according to the habit lie 
 had got into, and in conformity with the energetic Spanish re- 
 frain; So car cle tripas corazon (keep a stout heart .-'.gainst v\c\-y 
 fortune), he pretended to be delighted with the honour that was 
 yielded to him. 
 
 The prognostic of Costal about the weather appeared likely to be 
 realized. During the whole day, while they were making prepara- 
 tions for their night expedition, the sky remained shadowed with 
 sombre clouds ; and as evening arrived, the sun went down in the 
 midst of a thick cumulus of vapour. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 AN ENTERPRISE BY NIGHT. 
 
 As soon as darkness had fairly descended over the deep, the men 
 took their places in the boats. 
 
 The flotilla was comprised of three barges or whaleboats, and a 
 small canoe — in which altogether not more than fifty men could be 
 embarked ; but as it was at this period the sole fleet possessed by 
 the insurgents, they were forced to make the best of it. 
 
 With oars carefully muffled, they rowed out from the beach ; and 
 thanks to the darkness of the night they succeeded in passing the 
 castle without causing any alarm. 
 
 They wf re soon out of sight of the shore ; and after rowing a mile 
 or so further, the dark silhouette of the cliffs ceased to be visible 
 through the obscurity. 
 
 The canoe commanded by Captain Lantejas carried, besides him- 
 self, Costal and two rowers. As it was the lightest vessel in the 
 flotilla, it was directed to keep the lead, as a sort of acant-courrier, 
 to announce whatever might be seen ahead. 
 
 Costal sat in the stern guiding the craft : and while engaged in this 
 duty, he could not resist the l- mptution of pointing out to his caj> 
 
AN ENTERPRISE BY KIGHT. 1£»3 
 
 tain what the latter had already tremblingly observed: — three or 
 four great sharks keeping company with the canoe. 
 
 I' Look at them !" said the Indian: "one might almost imagine 
 that the instinct of* these fierce sea-wolves told them — — " 
 
 '• What I" inquired Lantejas, with an anxious air. 
 
 " Why, that this vessel we are in is not sea-worthy. She is as 
 rotten and ricketty as an old tub ; and very little — Bah ! I only 
 wish that my friend Pepe Gago was one of those fellows in the wa- 
 ter, and I had nothing more to do than leap in and poniard him in 
 presence of the others!" 
 
 " What ! are you thinking still of that fellow ?" 
 
 " More than ever !" replied Costal, grinding his teeth ; " and I 
 shall never have tne army of Morelos — even when my time of ser- 
 vice is out — so long as there's a hope of capturing the castle of 
 Acapulco, and getting my hands on the miserable traitor." 
 
 Lantejas was paying only slight attention to what the Indian said. 
 The doubt which the latter had expressed about the sea-worthiness 
 of the canoe, was at that moment occupying his thoughts more than 
 Costai's project of vengeance ; and he was desirous that they should 
 reach the island as soon as possible. Even an engagement with a 
 human enemy — so long as it should take place on terra firma — 
 would be less perilous than a struggle in the water with those ter- 
 rible monsters — the sharks. 
 
 " The canoe goes very slowly !" remarked he to Costal more than 
 once. 
 
 " Senor Don Cornelio !" exclaimed the Indian with a smile, " you 
 are always in a hurry to get into a fight; but we are now approach- 
 ing the Isle ; and, with your permission, I think we would do well 
 to obtain leave from the admiral (by this title Costal designated 
 Don Hermenegildo) to go a little more in advance, and reconnoitre 
 the way for the others. The canoe can approach near the schooner 
 without much risk of being seen ; whereas those great whale-boats 
 would just now stand a pretty fair chance of being discovered. 
 That's my advice — do you agree to it, Captain V 
 
 " Willingly," replied Lantejas, scarce knowing between the two 
 dangers which might be the greatest. 
 
 At a- command from Costal the two rowers now rested upon their 
 oars ; and, shortly after, one of the barges arrived alongside. It was 
 that which carried the admiral. 
 
 "What is it?" inquired the latter, seeing that the canoe had 
 stopped for him. " Have you discovered anything '?" 
 
 Don Cornelio communicated to him the proposition of Costal. 
 
156 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 The idea appeared g od to the Marshal ; and, in accordance with it, 
 the three barges were ordered to lie to, while the lighter craft glided 
 on in advance. « 
 
 In a short time the Isle appeared in sight — a dark spot upon the 
 bosom of the water, like some vast sea-bird that had settled down 
 upon the waves, to rest a moment before resuming its flight. 
 
 Presently, as they drew nearer, the dark mass appeared to grow 
 larger, but still Lay buried in sombre silence, with no light nor any 
 visible object distinguishable through the gloom. 
 
 Still drawing nearer, they at length perceived, rising over the tops 
 of the trees that thickly covered the island, the tall tapering masts 
 and cross yards of a ship. It was the schooner they were in search 
 of 
 
 Continuing their course, in a few moments they were able to make 
 v»ut her hull against the white background of the beach, and then the 
 two cabin windows in her stern. Through these, lights were shining, 
 that in two broad binds were flung far over the surface of the water. 
 In the darkness, th > vessel might have been likened to some gigan 
 ti : whale that had risen a moment, and was bending its huge eyes 
 tt reconnoitre the surface of the sea. 
 
 '' We must change our course," muttered Costal. " If the canoe 
 gets under that light, some sentry on the quarter-deck may see 
 us. We must make a detour and approach from the other side." 
 
 In saying this the Indian shifted the radder, and turned the head 
 or the craft in a new direction, while the rowers still continued to 
 p)y their muffled oars. 
 
 The shirks turned at the same time, and kept on after the canoe, 
 as could be told by the luminous traces left by their viscous bodies 
 in passing through the water. 
 
 Beyoal, the surface was sparkling with phosphoric points, as if 
 the sky, now covered with a uniform drapery of dark clouds, had 
 dropped its starry mantle upon the sea. 
 
 At intervals there came a slight puff of wind, and the water curl- 
 ing under it glance! more- luminously ; while an occasional flash of 
 lightning announced that the clouds above were charged with elec- 
 tricity. 
 
 In all these signs Costal recognized the precursors of a storm. 
 
 The canoe had now passed far out of sight of the barges, and was 
 circling around, to get upon the other side of the schooner — still fol- 
 lowed by five of the shining monsters of the deep. 
 
 Both Costal and the Captain believed themselves too far distant 
 from the schooner to be seen bv anv one aboard when all at once a 
 
AN ENTERPRISE BY NIGHT. 157 
 
 brilliant light enveloped the Spanish vessel, revealing her whole out 
 lines from stem to stern. Those in the canoe had just time to per- 
 ceive that it was the blaze of a cannon, when the report followed, 
 and the hissing of a ball was heard. Almost on the instant the little 
 craft received a terrible shock ; and, in the midst of a cloud of spray 
 thrown around it, the two rowers were seen tumbling over the side 
 and sinking below the surface of the water. Two of the sharks 
 disappeared at the same moment ! 
 
 Costal, seated in the stern, at once perceived that the canoe no 
 longer obeyed the rudder; and Lantejas who was more amidships, 
 saw to his horror that the vessel was sinking at the forward part, 
 where she had been struck by the ball. 
 
 " Por los injiernos ! an unlucky shot!" cried Costal. 
 
 " What will be the result '?" anxiously demanded Lantejas. 
 
 "Why, a very simple thing; the bullet has crushed in the bow 
 of the craft, and she will go down head foremost, I suppose." 
 
 " Por Dios ! we are lost then ?" cried Don Cornelio in a voice of 
 terror. 
 
 " Is ot so sure of that yet," calmly returned Costal, at the same time 
 rising and stepping forward in the canoe. " Keep your place !" 
 whispered ho to Lantejas, "and don't lose sight of me." 
 
 Notwithstanding the assuring air with which the Indian spoke, the 
 third rower, under the excitement of a terrible alarm, at this mo- 
 metnt rushed up and caught him around the knees — as if clinging 
 to him for help. 
 
 " Ho 1" cried Costal endeavouring to disengage himself, " hands 
 off there, friend ! Off, I say — here it is every one for himself!" and 
 as he said this he pushed the man backward. 
 
 The latter, staggering partly under the impulsion he had received, 
 and partly under the influence of his fright, tumbled back into the 
 water. At the same instant a third shark disappeared from the 
 side of the canoe, while a cry of despair appeared to rise up from 
 the bottom of the sea ! 
 
 "it was his own fault," said the impassable Zapoteque, "his ex- 
 ample should be warning to others !" 
 
 At this frightful inuendo the ex-student of theology, more dead 
 than alive, commenced invoking God and the saints with a fervour 
 such as he had never felt in all his lifa. 
 
 " Carrambo ! Captain," cried the imperturbable pagan, " put more 
 confidence in your own courage than your saints. Can you swim]" 
 
 " Only a few strokes," feebly replied Lantejas. 
 
 * Good ! that will b** enough. There is only one way to hindei 
 
158 THE TIGER HUNTER. 
 
 the canoe from going head downwards. Look out, then, and keep 
 close by my side i" 
 
 Saying this, Costal waited until the canoe rose upon the top of a 
 wave ; and then, throwing all his strength into the effort, he kicked 
 the craft, overturning it keel upwards ! 
 
 Both men were for the moment under water ; and Lantejas, on 
 coming to the surface, felt himself violently grasped by the gar- 
 ments. He fancied it was one of the sharks that had seized hold of 
 him ; but the voice of Costal close to his ear once more reassured 
 him. 
 
 "Do not fear : I am with you," said the Indian, dragging him 
 through the water towards the capsized canoe, which was now float- 
 ing wrong side up. 
 
 The efforts of the Indian, joined to those which Lantejas mechani- 
 cally made for himself, enabled the latter to get astride the keel of 
 the canoe; where Costal after swimming a few strokes through the 
 vvater, mounted also. 
 
 " Another minute," said the Indian, "and the old tub would have 
 gone to the bottom. N«>w she may keep afloat till the whale-boats 
 get up — that is, if the storm don't com. 4 down before then." 
 
 Lantejas casta despairing glance towards the distant ocean, which 
 lashed by the wind, had already roughened under its mantle of 
 foam. The sight drew from him afresh invocation to the saints, with 
 an improvised but earnest prayer for his own safety. 
 
 * Carrambo /" cried the pagan Costal, "keep a firm seat, and 
 don't trust too much to your gods. If you let yourself he washed 
 ofl*, you'll find they won't do much for you. Stay ! you've nothing 
 to hold on by ! let me make a catch for you." 
 
 Saying this, Costal bent towards his companion ; and with the 
 blade of his knife commenced opening a hole in the keel of the ca- 
 noe, la the worm-eaten wood this might be easily c fleeted ; and, 
 working with all the sang-froid of a wood-carver, in a few seconds 
 Costal succeeded in making an aperture large enough to admit the 
 hand. Through this Lantejas thrust his fingers ; and, clutching firm- 
 ly underneath, was now in condition to maintain his seat against the 
 waves that were threatening every moment to roll over the spot. 
 
 Costal, having secured his companion, and provided for his own 
 safety in a similar fashion, now commenced peering through the 
 darkness in hopes of seeing the barges. 
 
 In this he was disappointed. Though the lightning now r flashed 
 at shorter intervals, its gleams revealed only the dark and scowl 
 
FEARFUL FELLOW-SWIMMERS. 159 
 
 fng water, the isle sleeping in sullen gloom, and farther off the 
 frowning mass of the fortress-crowned cliff. 
 
 Notwithstanding that the castaways now shouted at the highest 
 pitch of their voices, there was no response from the whale-boats. 
 Their cries pealed along the seething surface of the waters, and died 
 without even an echo. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 FEARFUL FELLOW-SWIMMERS. 
 
 The shipwrecked sailor, floating upon his frail raft, or some spar 
 ot his shattered vessel, could not be more at the mercy of wave and 
 wind, than were the two men astride of the capsized canoe. Their 
 situation was indeed desperate. The stroke of a strong sea would 
 be sufficient to swamp their frail embarkation ; and should the tem- 
 pest continue to increase in fury, then destruction appeared inevit- 
 able. 
 
 Despite the imminent danger, Lantejas still indulged a hope that 
 the intrepidity of the Zapoteque might rescue him from the present 
 danger, as it had from many others. Sustained by this vague belief, 
 he kept his eves fixed upon the countenance of Costal, while endeav- 
 oring to read in its expression the condition of the Indian's spirit. 
 
 Up to that time the imperturbable coolness exhibited by the ex~ 
 tigrero had favored the hopes of his companion. As the time passed, 
 however, and nothing was seen of the whale-boats, even the features 
 ot Costal began to wear an expression of anxiety. There is a differ-, 
 ence, however, between anxiety and despair. The spirit of the Indian 
 had only succumbed to the former of these two phases. j 
 
 " Well, Costal, what think you ?" demanded Lantejas, with a.% 
 view of breaking the silence, which appeared to him of ill omen. 
 
 " Por Bios !" replied the Indian, " I'm astonished that the barges 
 have not moved up on hearing that shot. It's not like the Marshal 
 to hang back so. He don't often need two such signals to advance 
 
 n 
 
 A. blast of wind sweeping past at the moment hindered Lantejas 
 from hearing the last words of his companion's speech. He saw, 
 however, that the latter had relapsed into his ominous silence, and 
 tli.it the aloud of inquietude was growing darker over his count©- 
 
160 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 nance. It was almost an expression of fear that now betrayed itseli 
 upon the bronzed visage of the Inulau. 
 
 The Captain well knew that the least display of such a sentiment 
 on the pari, of Costal was evidenee that the danger was extreme. Not 
 that he needed any farther proof of this, than what he saw around him ; 
 but so long as the Zapoteque showed no signs of fear, he had enter- 
 tained a hope that the latter might still rind some resource for their 
 safety. 
 
 He almost believed himself saved, when the voice of the Indian 
 once more fell upon his ear, in a tone that seemed to betray an in- 
 difference to their present situation. 
 
 " Well, Senor Don Cornelio," said Costal, "what would you give 
 now to be lying in a hammock, with a canopy of jaguars and rattle 
 snakes over you '? Eh?" 
 
 Costal smiled as he recalled the scene of the inundation. His 
 gaiety was a good sign. Almost immediately after, however, tie 
 muttered to himself, in a tone of inquietude — 
 
 "Can it be possible that the barges have gone back ?" 
 
 In situations of a frightful kind the smallest suspicion von as- 
 sumes the form of a reality ; and the Captain did not doubt but that 
 the barges had returned to the shore. Not that there was the 
 slightest reason for this belief. On the contrary, it was more natu- 
 ral to suppose that they were still in the place where they had been 
 left — awaiting the return of the canoe, and the news it might bring 
 them. This was all the more likely ; since they in the barges could 
 not fail to have heard the shot from the schooner, and would b* 
 awaiting an explanation of it. 
 
 The probability of all this — especially of the boats being still in 
 the same place — did not fail to strike Costal, who for some seconds 
 appeared to be reflecting profoundly. 
 
 Meanwhile the waves had increased, and had all the appearance 
 of soon becoming much larger. Already the frail embarkation was 
 tossed about like an egg-shell. 
 
 " Listen to me, Senor Don Cornelio Lantejas !" said Costal. 
 
 " Ah !" wofully murmured the Captain, on hearing his patronymic 
 pronounced ; for ever since his proscription as Cornelio Lantejas, he 
 had held his own name in horror. Never did it sound to him 
 with a more lugubrious accent than now. 
 
 " Listen !" said Costal, repeating himself with emphasis ; " I know 
 you are a man for whom death has no terror. Well, then ! I think 
 it would not be right of me to conceal from you — a fact " 
 
 "What fact?" 
 
FEAIMTL FELLOW-SWfciilSUS. 1G1 
 
 "That if we stay hero one hour longer, we must Loth go to the 
 bottom. The waves are constantly growing bigger, as you see " 
 
 "And what can we do?" demanded Lantejas in a despairing 
 tone. 
 
 "One of two things," replied Costal. "The barges are either 
 waiting for us where we left them, or they are directing their conrse 
 towards the Isle. It is absurd to suppose they have returned to 
 the town. When one receives an order from a great general to at- 
 tack any particular point, one does not return without making an 
 attempt. The boats, therefore, must still be where we parted from 
 them." 
 
 "Well, what would you do?" 
 
 "Why, since it is easy for me to swim to them " 
 
 "Swim to them?" 
 
 "Certainly. Why not?" 
 
 " What! through the midst of those monsters who have just de- 
 voured our comrades under our very eyes?" 
 
 A flash of lightning at that instant lit up the countenance of Cos- 
 tal, vvhi h exhibited an expression of profound disdain. 
 
 " Have I not just told you," said he, " that I am the only man 
 who to dd pass among these sharks without the least danger ? [ 
 have do le it a hundred times out of mere bravado. To-night I shall 
 do it to save our lives." 
 
 The thought of being left alone caused the Captain a fresh alarm, 
 He h stated a moment before making a reply. Costal, taking his 
 silence for consent, cried out — 
 
 " As soon as i have reached one of the barges, I shall cause a 
 rocket to be sent up as a signal that I am aboard. Then you may 
 expect us to come this way ; and you must shout at the top of your 
 voice, in order that we may find you." 
 
 Don Cornelio had not time to make answer. On finishing his 
 spceih the ci-devant pearl-diver plunged head foremost into the 
 water. 
 
 Tie Captain could trace a luminous line as he swam for some 
 seconds under the surface ; and could also see that the fierce deni- 
 zens of the deep — as if they recognized in him a superior power — 
 had suddenly glided out of his way ! 
 
 Don Cornelio saw the intrepid swimmer rise to the surface, at 
 some distance off, and then lost sight of him altogether behind the 
 curling crest of the waves. He fancied, however, he could hear 
 some indistinct words of encouragement borne back by the wind. 
 
J 02 THE TIGER-J1UNTER. 
 
 After that, the only sounds that reached his ears were the hoarse 
 moanings of the surf, and the ominous plashing of the waves against 
 the quivering timbers of his canoe. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 UNPLEASANT SWIMMING COMPANIONS. 
 
 A shark may be driven off for a time by the efforts of a human 
 enemy, but his natural voracity will soon impel him to return to the 
 attack. When the Indian therefore rose to the surface of the water 
 — remembering his old practice as a pearl-diver — he cast around him 
 a glance of caution. Having shouted back to his companion in mis- 
 fortune some words which the latter had indistinctly heard, he placed 
 his knife between his teeth, and swam straight onward. 
 
 It was not fear that caused him to take this precaution. It was 
 merely an act of habitual prudence. 
 
 As he struck out from the canoe, he perceived that two monsters 
 of the deep, far more formidable than those of the forest, were pro- 
 ceeding in the same direction as himself. One was about twenty 
 feet from him on the right ; the other appeared at an equal distance 
 on the left ; and both were evidently attending upon him ! 
 
 Unpleasant as two such companions might be deemed, the swim- 
 mer at first paid but slight attention to their movements. His mind 
 was pre-occupied with a variety of' thoughts — especially with the 
 doubt as to whether he might be able to find the barges. On the 
 wide surface of the sea, and in the midst of the profound darkness, 
 it would be but too easy to pass without perceiving them, and very 
 difficult to find them. This apprehension, combined with those fear- 
 less habits, in the water, which he had contracted while following the 
 life of a pearl-diver — and furthermore his belief in a positive fatal- 
 ism — all united in rendering the Zapoteque indifferent to the pres- 
 ence of his two terrible attendants. 
 
 Only at intervals, and then rather from prudence than fear, he 
 turned his head to the right or left, and glanced in the direction of 
 his compagnons du voyage. He could not help perceiving moreover, 
 that at each instant the sharks were drawing nearer to him. 
 
 By a vigorous stroke on the water he now raised his body high 
 over the surface ; and, there balancing for a moment, glanced for- 
 
UNPLEASANT SWIMMING COMPANIONS. 103 
 
 ward. It was an eager glance ; for he was looking for that object 
 on the finding of which his life must depend. He saw only the line 
 of the horizon of dull sombre hue — no object visible upon it, except 
 here and there the white crests of the waves. 
 
 A sudden glance to the right, and another to the left, showed him 
 the two fearful creatures, now nearer than ever. Neither was more 
 than ten feet from his body ! 
 
 Still the swimmer was not dismayed by their presence. Far more 
 was he daunted by the immense solitude of the watery surface that 
 surrounded him. 
 
 However bold a man may be, there are moments when danger 
 must necessarily cause him fear. Costal was in a position sufficient- 
 ly perilous to have unnerved most men. Swimming in the midst 
 of a rising sea — beyond sight of land, or any other object — escorted 
 by two voracious sharks — with a dark sky overhead, and no precise 
 knowledge of the direction in which he was going — no wonder he 
 began to feel something more than inquietude. 
 
 However strong may be a swimmer, he cannot fail, after long 
 keeping up such vigorous action as it requires, to become fatigued, 
 and worn out : the more so when, like Costal, he carries a knife be- 
 tween his teeth — thus impeding his free respiration. But the ex- 
 pearl-diver did not think of parting with the weapon — his only re- 
 source, in case of being attacked by the sharks — and still keeping 
 his lips closed upon it, he swam on. 
 
 After a time, he felt his heart beating violently against his ribs. 
 lie attributed this circumstance less to fear than to the efforts he 
 was making ; and, taking the knife from his mouth, he carried it in 
 one of his hands. 
 
 The pulsations of his heart were not the less rapid : for it may 
 be acknowledged, without much shame to him, that Costal now real- 
 ly felt fear. Moreover, swimming with one hand closed, it was ne- 
 cessary for him to strike more rapidly with the other. 
 
 The precaution of holding his knife ready in hand, was not likely 
 to prove an idle one. The two sharks appeared gradually converg- 
 ing upon the line which the swimmer must take, if he continued to 
 swim directly onward. 
 
 On observing this convergence of his silent and persevering pur- 
 suers, Costal suddenly obliqued to the right. The sharks imitated 
 his movement on the instant, and swam on each side of him aa 
 before ! 
 
 For a few minutes — lonsr and fearful minutes — he was forced to 
 
1G4 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 keep on in this new direction. He began to fancy he was swimming 
 out of the way he should have taken ; and was about to turn once 
 more to the left, when an object came before his eyes that prompted 
 him to utter an ejaculation of joy. 
 
 In spite of himself, he had been guided into the right direction, 
 by the very enemies from whom he was endeavouring to escape ; 
 and it was the sight of the barges that had drawn from him the joy- 
 ful exclamation. 
 
 The moment after, he uttered a louder cry, hailing the boats. 
 
 He had the satisfaction of hearing a response; but as no one saw 
 him through the darkness, it was necessary for him to continue 
 swimming onwards. 
 
 By this time the two sharks had closed on each side, and were 
 gliding along so near, that only a narrow way was open between 
 them. Costal felt that he had not sufficient strength to make a de- 
 tour; and the only course left him, was to swim straight for the 
 nearest boat. He kept on therefore, his heart beating against his 
 ribs, and witli his knife firmly held in his grasp — ready to bi ry the 
 weapon in the throat of the first that should assai] him. With the 
 last efforts of his strength he lunged out tight and left, by voice and 
 gesture endeavouring to frighten off the two monsters that flanked 
 him; and he proceeded onward in this way like some doomed ship, 
 struggling between black masses of rocky breakers. 
 
 By good fortune his efforts proved successful. The hideous crea- 
 tures, glaring upon him with glassy eyeballs, were nevertheless fright- 
 ened by his menacing gestures, and for the moment diverged a lit- 
 tle out of his way. 
 
 Costal took advantage of this precious moment ; and, swimming 
 rapidly forward, succeeded in clutching the side of one of the 
 barges. 
 
 A dozen friendly arms instantly drew him aboard ; but as his 
 comrades bent over him upon the deck, they perceived that he was 
 unconscious. The effort had been too much for his strength. He 
 had sunk into a syncope. 
 
 The presence of Costal in such sad plight sufrieiently revealed the 
 fate of the canoe and its occupants. Words could not have made 
 the history of their misfortunes more clear. 
 
 "It is no use remaining longer here," said the soldier-admiral. 
 " The canoe must have gone to the bottom. Now, my braves ! we 
 shall pull straight for the isle." 
 
 Then raising his sombrero in a reverential manner, he added — 
 
UNPLEASANT SWIMMING COMPANIONS. 1 G5 
 
 '•Let us pray for the souls of our unfortunate comrades — above 
 &!?, for Captain Lantejas. We have lost in him a most valiant offi- 
 cer." 
 
 After this laconic oration over Don Corrielio, the barges were 
 once more set in motion, and rowed directly towards the isle of 
 iioqueta. 
 
 Meanwhile the unhappy Lantejas sat upon the keel of the broken 
 canoe, contemplating with horrible anxiety the waves of the ocean 
 constantly surging around him, and gradually growing fiercer and 
 higher. Now they appeared as dark as Erebus; anon like ridges 
 of liquid fire, as the lightning flashed athwart the skj furrowing 
 the black clouds over his head. 
 
 He listened attentively. lie heard the wind whistling against the 
 waves, and lashing them into fury — as a horseman rouses his steed 
 with whip and spur; he heard the groaning of the surge, like an 
 untamed horse rebelling against his rider. 
 
 Fortunately for him, it was but the prologue of the storm to which 
 he was listening; and he was still able to maintain his seat upon 
 the frail embarkation. 
 
 At short intervals he shouted with all his might, but the wind 
 hurled back his cries, mingled with the spray that was dashed in his 
 face. 
 
 No succour appeared within sight or hearing. Costal had no 
 doubt been either drowned or devoured ; and the unhappy officer had 
 arrived at the full conviction, that such was to be his own fate; 
 when, all of a sudden, some object came under his eyes that 
 caused him to quiver with joy. Under the glare of the lightning, 
 the barges were visible mounted on the crest of a huge dark wave! 
 Only a momentary glance did he obtain of them: for, after the 
 flash had passed, the boats were again shrouded in the obscurity of 
 th n night. 
 
 Don Cornelio raised a loud cry, and listened for the response. 
 No voice reached him. His own was drowned amidst the roaring 
 of the waters, and could not have been heard by the people on board 
 the boats. 
 
 He shouted repeatedly, but with the like result — no response. 
 Once more was he plunged into the deepest anxiety — approaching 
 almost to despair — when on the next flashing of lightning he once 
 more beheld the barges at a little distance from him, but in a direc- 
 tion altogether opposite ! They had passed him in the darkness, and 
 Wttve now rowing away ! This was his reflection, though it was an 
 
1G6 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 erroneous one. The boats were still in the same direction as at first, 
 but now appeared in the opposite quarter. This deception arose 
 From Don Cornelio himself having turned round on the broken ca- 
 noe, which kept constantly spinning about upon the waves. 
 
 At this moment a rocket shooting up into the dark sky inspired 
 the castaway with fresh hope : and he once more raised his voice, 
 and shouted with all the concentrated power of throat and lungs. 
 After delivering the cry, he remained in breathless expectation, 
 equally concentrating all his strength in the act of listening. 
 
 This time a lesponsive cry came back — a sound all the more joy- 
 ful to his ears from his recognising it as the .voice of Costal. 
 
 Don Cornelio now repeated his cries, thick and fast after each 
 other, until his throat and jaws almost refused to give out the slight- 
 est sound. Nevertheless he kept on shouting, until one of the barges, 
 bounding over the waves, forged close up to the side of the canoe. 
 Then he felt himself seized by strong arms — they were those of Cos- 
 tal and Galeana — and the moment alter he was lifted into the boat, 
 where, like the ex-pearl-diver, but from a very different cause, he 
 fell fainting upon the deck. 
 
 It was fortunate for Don Cornelio that Costal had remained onty 
 a short time under the influence of his syncope. Recovering from 
 it, the Indian had, in a few words, revealed the situation of the canoe. 
 The signal agreed upon was at once made ; and led, as described, to 
 the rescue of his companion from his perilous position. 
 
J.J^^.i.-ti- 
 
 A DEED A LA CORTEZ. 
 
 Notwithstanding the alarm given by the schooner, the barges of 
 Galeana found no difficulty in effecting a landing upon the Isle — but 
 on the opposite side to that where the war vessel lay. The stormy 
 night favored the attempt ; the garrison of La Roqueta not dream- 
 ing that on such a night any attack would be made upon the fort. 
 
 Lantejas still remained unconscious ; and, when at last he came 
 to his senses, he found himself on land, the branches of tall trees 
 extending over him, through which the wind was whistling with all 
 the fury of a tempest. The rustling of the leaves was the sweetest 
 melody he had ever heard ; since it told him he was once more on 
 terra Jirma — though at the same time the. thunder rolling around 
 appeared to shake the foundations of the Isle. 
 
 On awakening to consciousness, he looked around him. He saw 
 men reclining, or sitting in groups — most of them with arms in theii 
 hands. lie recognized them as the people of the expedition. 
 
 Costal, asleep, was lying upon the ground close at hand. 
 
 " Where are we, Costal ?" inquired Lantejas, after rousing the 
 Indian from his slumber. 
 
 '•Where? Por Dios ! where should we be but on the Isle of 
 Roqueta ?" 
 
 ' ; But how did we get ashore V 
 
 " Easily enough, Senor Capstan. We had no opposition to con- 
 tend against. Not one of the Spanish garrison suspects our pres- 
 ence here; for who would think of sixty men venturing to sea on 
 such a night as this I We shall take the enemy completely by sur- 
 prise.*' 
 
 '• And what hinders the Marshal from attacking them now V 
 
Li53 
 
 THE TIGEH-HUXTER. 
 
 u We have not yet found them. We neither know where the fort 
 is, nor where we are ourselves. Don't you see that the night is as 
 dark as the inside of a cannon, and one cannot make out his linger 
 before him ? They're safe enough while this storm lasts; and, by 
 good lack, so are we." 
 
 It was in truth to the storm that the Mexicans owed their present 
 security. Few in numbers, and ignorant of the locality in which 
 they had landed, an attack by the troop garrison might have 
 
 proved fatal to th '.m. l"hai] 
 night, they had not only found an opportun 
 isle, 
 
 It v, . -out four in the mornin; 
 
 with all its fury, \\ a large wa> 
 
 beach, threatening to break the cables by which the barges were 
 moored to the shore. Don Cornelio east glances of fear upon that 
 mighty ocean that, but a few hours before, had come so near engulf- 
 ing him within its dark depths. 
 
 While he sat with his face turned seaward, his eye fell upon the 
 figure of a man who was passing from the spot where the groups 
 were scattered downward to the beach. This man having approached 
 the place where the barges were moored, for some moments ap- 
 peared to be occupied with them, as if looking to their security. 
 This was Don Cornelio's first impression on seeing the figure bend- 
 ing over the cables; but the moment after, the blade of a knife 
 glancing in the man's lingers, was revealed by a flash of lightning; 
 and this gave a sudden turn to the captain's thoughts. 
 
 " What is he about to do V inquired he of Costal, at the same 
 time pointing out the individual so mysteriously occupied about 
 the barges. 
 
 " Carbamho ! he is cutting the cables !" cried the Indian, spring- 
 ing to his feet, and rushing towards the boats, followed by Don 
 Cornelio. 
 
 On drawing nearer the beach, both recognised, under the pale re' 
 flection of the foaming waves, the Marshal himself — Don Ilermene- 
 gildo Galeana ! 
 
 '•Ah! Captain Lantejas, is it you!" cried the Marshal as they 
 approached. " Good. I want you to lend me a hand here in cut- 
 ting these, hawsers: they are hard as iron chains." 
 
 "Cut the hawsers!' 1 echoed the astonished captain. "And what, 
 General, if we are compelled to retreat before a superior force?" 
 
 "That's just what 1 wish to provide against,* 1 replied Don Her- 
 
A DEED A LA CORTF.Z. h'9 
 
 menegildo, laughing. v -Sorae people fight Sut*poorly when they 
 know they may run away ; wiH 1 wish cj- ^owle to fight well." 
 
 Don Corneliu saw it was no use to attempt remonstrance with (he 
 chivalric Galeana, and both he and Costal west to work to assist the 
 Marshal in his daring design. 
 
 " All right, comrades !" cried Don Ilermenegucr^, as soon as the 
 three hawsers were parted; " it only remains for us to get the sig- 
 nal rockets out of the boats, and then let them go to sea of them- 
 selves." 
 
 So saying, the energetic leader stepped aboard one of the barges, 
 seized hold of the rocket case, and, assisted by Costal and Don Cor- 
 nelio, carried it on shore. Then, giving each of the boats a shove 
 fronMhe. beach, the Marshal had the satisfaction — not shared by the 
 Captain, however — of seeing all three of them the next moment 
 carried far away from the shore, and still tossing seaward on the 
 crests of the foaming waves ! Retreat was no longer possible. The 
 people of the expedition must either conquer or succumb. 
 
 " Now C iptain Lantejas," said the Marshal, addressing Don Cor- 
 nelio, "you had better go and get some sleep. You have need of 
 rest, after what you have passed through. 1 shall cause you to be 
 awakened in good time. Meanwhile Costal will make a reconnais- 
 sance, to discover, if possible, tie whereabouts of our enemy. By 
 daybreak both the fort and schooner must be ours." 
 
 With this finish to the conversation, Don Hermenegildo folded 
 his cloak around him and walked away. Costal and the captain re- 
 turned to the temporary encampment among the trees. There the 
 Indian, without communicating his throughts to his companion, 
 silently divested himself of the little remnant of clothing that re- 
 mained to him, and glided off among the bushes — like a jaguar ad- 
 vancing through the underwood to surprise the gaunt alligator on 
 the bank of some solitary lagoon. 
 
170 THE TIGER-UUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 THE CAPTURE OF LA ROQUETA. 
 
 KT was in vain that Don Cornelio attempted to sleep. Although 
 
 ■«nore than a year of campaigning and the experience of man} san- 
 guinary engagements had mured him to danger, there was some- 
 thing in the peril to which he was now exposed that was altogi liar 
 novel and unpleasant. 
 
 Their leader had provided against retreat, and to conquer or die 
 had become a positive obligation of the expeditionary force. This 
 was snflicient to keep the involuntary soldier awake for the remain- 
 der of the night. 
 
 lie passed the time in reflecting upon the singular contretemps 
 that had so interfered with his plans of life, and changed, as it 
 were, his very destiny. He could now only entertain but one hope 
 and wish, and that was that the fortress of Acapulco should he 
 taken as soon as possible : since upon that event-being completed, 
 Morelos had promised to grant him leave of absence from the a: my. 
 
 In about an hour afterwards, Costal returned from his scout, and 
 reported to him the result of his explorations, which he had already 
 detailed to the Marshal. 
 
 According to the information collected by the Indian, the Spanish 
 garrison consisted of about two hundred men ; who were entrenched 
 in a small earthwork on the southern side of the Isle, and not more 
 than cannon-shot distance from the Mexican encampment. Two i'u !d 
 pieces, set in battery, defended the work ; and the schooner whose 
 unlucky shot had swamped the canoe, lay at a cable's length fjom 
 the land, in a little bay that ran up to the fort. 
 
 The Mexican leader now knew the position of his enemy, their 
 numbers and means of defence ; and as soon as the d-awn began to 
 appear, he summoned his little band, and formed them into rank. 
 At the same time he caused the signal rockets to be carried to an 
 eminence that was near their encampment. 
 
 " Now, Muchachos /" said he addressing his soldiers in an under 
 
THE CAPTURE OF LA KOQUETA. 171 
 
 tone, " whatever point we attaek,.may he considered ps t.;b n. W'y 
 are about to assault the enemy. We mav therefore at o ■<■ • hi.'i- 
 nounce to our generctl-iiwrhiet* without fear of disappointment, lh.it 
 the Jsle and fortresH of La Hoqueta are in our hands. 1 ha\e prom- 
 ised it." 
 
 And without awaiting a reply from any one, the Marshal took t!i3 
 cigar from his lips, and held the burning end of it to the fuse of one 
 of the rockets. 
 
 The piece, of hemp became kindled at the touch, and the moment 
 after, the rocket rose hissing into the air, and described a circle of 
 vivid red against the background of the sky. A second rocket was 
 sent up, which traced an ellipse of white light ; and then a third, 
 whose reflection was a brilliant green. 
 
 " Red, white, and green," cried Galeana, " our national colors. It 
 is the signal 1 agreed upon with our General, to announce to him the 
 capture of the isle. Our comrades in the Mexican camp have by 
 this time seen the signal. They believe we have triumphed, and we 
 must not deceive them. Forward to victory !" 
 
 On issuing the command, Galeana bounded lightly forward and 
 placed himself at the head of his men; and the whole troop, guided 
 by Costal, advanced at a rapid pace towards the enemy. 
 
 As they approached the fort, cries of distress were heard in that 
 direction, which at first filled the assailants with surprise. The 
 cause, however, was soon apparent. The cries came not from the 
 fort, but from the schooner, which was now seen through an opening 
 between the trees struggling against the storm, and fast drifting 
 among the breakers ! A row of jagged rocks stretched along to 
 leeward; and from driving upon these rocks, the sailors aboard of 
 her were vainly endeavoring to restrain the ill-fated vessel. 
 
 The latter during the violence of the wind, had dragged her an- 
 chors, and was now fast hastening to destruction. 
 
 " Jesus Maria /" exclaimed Galeana at the sight. " Comrades, 
 what a pity ! She will undoubtedly be lost, and 1 had counted upon 
 this magnificent bounty. Carrambo! we shall get nothing but a 
 wreck." 
 
 The dangerous situation of the schooner was of course known in the 
 fort, where it had already created considerable confusion. This was 
 now changed into consternation by the approach of the insurgents ; 
 and the wild war-cry of Galeana, as he sprang forward to the walls, 
 echoed by his followers, and' accompanied as it was by loud peals of 
 thunder, produced something like a panic among the ranks of the 
 Spanish garrison. So sudden was the attack, and so completely un* 
 
172 Tin-: ticer-hi:kter. 
 
 expected, that it could scarcely fail of success; and indeed, after a 
 short hand-to-hand combat, one portion :>f the garrison fled, while 
 the otner surrendered without conditions to the triumphant Ga- 
 lean a,. 
 
 Scarce'.y had the last shot been fired, and the fort delivered up to 
 the victors, when the schooner, striking violently upon a sharp reef, 
 leant over to one side, and, like a steed gored by the horns of the 
 bull, the sides of the vessel were opened and she began to sink among 
 the foaming waves. The victors on shore thought no more of ene- 
 mies, but now bent all their energies towards saving the unfortunate 
 mariners, whose lives were thus placed in peril. By means of la- 
 zoes flung from the beach, most of the latter were rescued from the 
 death that threatened them. 
 
 The sun soon after cast his yellow beams over the agitated bosom 
 of the ocean, but his rising bad no effect in calming the tempest. 
 The storm continued to rage as furiously as ever. 
 
 Just as the last of the shipwrecked sailors had been got safely on 
 shore, a flag running up to the signal-staff of tha fort announced that 
 a new sail was seen in the oiling. lu a few minutes after a vessel 
 was perceived in the roadstead of the bay, struggling against the 
 storm, and endeavouring to stand outward to sea. 
 
 This intention the adverse winds seemed trying to prevent; and 
 driven by these out of her course, the strange ship passed so near 
 the isle of Hoqueta that those in the fort co'ild see the people on 
 board, and even distinguish the uniforms and faces of the officer* 
 upon the quarter-deck. It was evident that the vessel thus cojtstina 
 past Acapulco was a man-of-war; and the uniforms of tie office; a 
 aboard of her could plainly be distinguished as that of the Spanish 
 navy. One was dressed somewhat differently from the rest. His 
 costume was military, not naval. It was that of an officer of dra- 
 goons. Costal, Clara, and Captain Lantejas were standing on the 
 parapet of the fort, observing the manoeuvres of the strange ship, 
 when the keen eyes of the Indian became fixed on this officer. 
 
 He was a man in the full vigour of youth and strength — as was 
 testified by his erect and graceful figure, and by the rich masses of 
 dark hair that clustered under his laced cap ; but an air of profound 
 melancholy seemed resting upon his features, and it was evident that 
 some secret care was occupying hi* thoughts far more than the 
 storm or its dangers ! 
 
 "Do you recognize the officer, yonder?"' inquired Costal, point- 
 ting him out to Clara and Don Cornelio, 
 
THE CAPTURE OF LA ROQVETA. 173 
 
 " No." replied Lantejas, " I don't remember ever having seen 
 him before." 
 
 " He is the same," rejoined Costal, " whom we three formerly 
 knew as a captain of the Queen s dragoons — Don Rafael Tres- Villas. 
 He is now Colonel Tres-Villas." 
 
 " For Bios /" interposed a soldier who was standing near, and 
 who had come from the state of Oajaca. " Colonel Tres-Villas ! 
 That is he who nailed the head of Antonio Valdez to the gate of his 
 hacienda!" 
 
 " The same," assented Costal. 
 
 " Carrambo!" cried another soldier, "that is the officer who, af- 
 ter capturing the town of Aguas Calientes, caused the hair to be 
 cropped from the heads of three hundred women who were his pris- 
 oners." 
 
 " It is said that he had his reasons for doing so," muttered Costal, 
 in reply. 
 
 " Whether or no." said the soldier, "if he comes this way, he'll 
 get punished for it." 
 
 Just as the soldier spoke, the ship became enveloped in a mass of 
 fog — at that moment spreading over the water — and was lost to the 
 veiw of the people on the isle. When she became visible again, it 
 was seen that she was standing out to sea. By a favourable turn 
 which the wind had taken, she was enabled to gain the offing, and 
 was soon receding from view upon the distant horizon. 
 
 Costal was correct in his identification. The officer thus acci- 
 dentally seen, and who was a passenger on board the man of-war, 
 was indeed Don Rafael Tres-Villas, who from one of the northern 
 ports was now en his return to Oajaca, bearing with him to the 
 shores of Tehuantepec a profound and incurable melancholy. 
 
 The capture of the isle of La Roqueta was an important step to- 
 wards the taking of Acapulco. The town itself had fallen into the 
 hands of the insurgents, almost at the same instant; for Morelos, 
 according to agreement, on perceiving the signals of Hermenegildo, 
 had directed his attack upon the town, and so brusquely that the place 
 was carried by a coup de main. 
 
 The possession of La Roqueta enabled the insurgent general to 
 intercept the supplies of the citadel garrison ; aud shortly after 
 the fortress itself was compelled to surrender. 
 
 This conquest, with which the humble cura had been derisively 
 entrusted, rendered him master of the whole southern part of Mexi* 
 
174 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 jvq — from the shores of the Pacific Ocean, almost to the gates of the 
 capital of New Spain. Twenty -two battles had he gained from that 
 day, when, accompanied by his two domestics, he rode forth from the 
 village of Caracuaro to raise in Oajaca the banner of the insurrec- 
 tion. To that province, after the taking of Acapulco, it was neces- 
 sary for him to proceed with his victorious army — in order to assist 
 the insurgents then besieged in the town of lluajapam. Thither, 
 hut some days preceding him, shall we conduct the reader, in order 
 that we may once more return to the hero of our predilection. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE PLAIN OF II U A J A P A M. 
 
 It was a morning of June, just before the commencement of thf> 
 rainy season — a>t that period of the day and year when the tropic 
 sun of Southern Mexico is least endurable. His fervid rays, strik- 
 ing perpendicularly downward, had heated Like smouldering ashes 
 the dusty plains of lluajapam, which lay like a vast amphitheatre 
 surrounded by hills — so distant that their blue outlines were almost 
 confounded with the azure sky above them. On this plain was 
 presented a tableau of sadness and desolation, such as the destruc- 
 tive genius of man often composes with demoniac skill. 
 
 On one side, as far as the eve could reach, horsemen could be 
 seen hurrying about the plain in the midst of pillaged houses — some 
 of which hid been given to the fa nes. Un ler the hoots of these horses, 
 as they dashed recklessly to and fro, were crushed rich treasures 
 Lh.it had been sacked from the deserted dwellings and now lay scat 
 tered upon the ground, tempting only the hand of the thievish camp- 
 follower. The soil, defiled in every way, presented only a scanty 
 growth of bruised herbage, upon which the horseman disdained to 
 pasture his steed. 
 
 Here and there groups of black vultures told where some dead 
 bjdy of horse or rider had been abandoned to their voracity; while 
 the coyotes trotted in troops far out from the mountain ridge, going 
 to or returning from their hideous repast. 
 
 Looking over the plain in another direction, the standard of Spain 
 could be seen floating over the tents of the royalist camp, whose 
 night-fires still sent up their lines of bluish smoke ; while from the 
 
THE PLAIN OF IUAJAPAX. 173 
 
 same quarter could be heard ihe neighing of horses, the rolling of 
 drums, and the s'a.'tling calls of the cavalry bugles. 
 
 Farther off ill the same direction — above the low, flat-shaped 
 azaleas of a village — couid be seen the domes and belfries of several 
 churches, all breached with bombs or riddled with round shot. This 
 village lay at the distance of a few hundred yards from the lines of 
 the royalist camp, and was evidently besieged by the latter. Rude 
 earthworks could be perceived extending between the scattered 
 suburbs, upon which a few pieces of cannon were mounted, and 
 pointing towards the entrenchments of the Spanish encampment. 
 Between the hostile lines the plain was unoccupied, save by the 
 dead bodies of men and horses that lay unburied on the dusty sur- 
 face of the soil. 
 
 The village in question — or town it might rather be called — was 
 the famous lluajapam ; that now for more than three months had 
 been defended by a body of three hundred insurgents against a royalist 
 force of five times their number! The heroic leader of this gallant 
 resistance was Colonel Don Valerio Trujano. 
 
 At mention of this name the reader will call to mind the noble 
 muleteer Trujano, whose firm voice he has heard intoning the De- 
 ptofundis and In manus while struggling against the inundation. 
 Beyond a doubt his religious zeal had inspired the besieged of Hua- 
 japam ; for, every now and then, from out the sad and desolate town 
 may be heard the voices of his men, chanting in chorus some sacred 
 song or prayer to the God of battles ! 
 
 In that moment when the priests of lluajapam have left the altai 
 to take part in the defence of their town, there will be observed, 
 neither in their acts nor words, aught to recall their former profes 
 sion. 
 
 At such a time Don Valerio Trujano may be said to reproduce 
 one cf those ascetic heroes of the old religious wars — great repeat- 
 ers of pater-nosters, whose blows fell without mercy, and who 
 marched it. to battle reciting quotations from Scripture. Perhaps 
 he might be more happily likened to one of the old Templars, care- 
 less, of personal renown, kneeling to pray in front of the foe, and 
 charging upon the Saracen to the accompaniment of that famous 
 psalm, " Quare fremuerunt gentcs ?" 
 
 Such was the appearence which the the plain of Huajapam present- 
 ed on the morning in question : houses smoking and in ruins— dead 
 bodies scattered over the ground — vultures wheeling above — the 
 royalist banner face to face with the banner of the insurrection. 
 
 We shall iirst enter the eamp of the besiegers, where the Briga 
 
176 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 dier Bonavia, governor of Oajaca, held command — assisted by the 
 Spanish generals, Caldelas and Kegules. 
 
 At an early hour of the morning two dragoons, who bad be< n 
 scouring the distant plain, were seen returning to the lines of the 
 encampment, conducting with them a third horseman, evidently a 
 stranger to the camp. This was on the side, opposite to that < n 
 which lay the town of Huajapam. The horseman, guided by tlu>e 
 dragoons, was costumed as a vaquero — that is. he wore a jacket ai <l 
 wide calzoneros of brick-coloured deerskin, with a huge sombrero of 
 black glaze on his head, and a speckled blanket folded over the croup 
 of his saddle, lie had already reported himself to the dragoons as 
 the bearer of a message to the colonel — Don Rafael Tres-Villas 
 Furthermore, in addition to the horse on which he rode, he was 
 leading another — a n >ble steed of a bay-brown colour. 
 
 This animal, startled at the sight and smell of the dead bodies 
 among which they were passing, gave out from time to time a snort- 
 ing of a peculiar character, which had drawn the attention of the 
 dragoons. 
 
 These, after conducting the vaquero through a portion of the camp, 
 halted in front of one of the largest tents. There a groom was 
 saddling another steed, in strength and beauty but little inferior to 
 that led by the vaquero. It was the war horse, of Colonel Trcs- 
 Villas, of whom the groom in question was the assistente. 
 
 " What is your name, amiyo V demanded the latter, addressing 
 himself to the vaquero. 
 
 "Julian," replied the stranger. "I am one of the servitors of 
 the hacienda Del Valle. Colonel Tres-Villas is its proprietor, and 
 I have a message for him of great importance." 
 
 " Very well," responded the other, " 1 shall tell the Colonel you 
 are here." 
 
 So saying, the assistente entered the tent. 
 
 On that day the besieging army was about to make the fifteenth 
 attack upon the town, defended by Colonel Trujano, and Don Rafael 
 was dressing himself in full uniform to assist at the council of war, 
 called together to deliberate on the plan of assault. 
 
 At the word "messenger" pronounced by his military servant, a 
 slight trembling was seen to agitate the frame of Colonel Tres- 
 Villas, while his countenance became suddenly overspread with 
 pallor. 
 
 " Very well," stammered he, after a moment's hesitation, and in 
 a voice that betrayed emotion. " 1 know the messenger ; you may 
 
THE PLAINS OF HUAJAPAM. 177 
 
 leave him free ; I shall answer for him. Presently let him come 
 in." 
 
 The asuistente stepped out of the tent and delivered this response 
 of the Colonel. The dragoons rode ofT, leaving the vaquero free to 
 Communicate to his master the message of which he was the 
 bearer. 
 
 It is here necessary for us to detail some portion of the history 
 of Don Rafael, from the time when hi* took his departure at full 
 gallop from the hacienda Del Valle, up to that hour when we again 
 encounter him in the royalist camp before Huajapam. 
 
 When the first shock of grief, caused by the murder of his father 
 — when that terrible struggle betwixt love and duty, had passed, and 
 his spirit become a little calmer — the only line of conduct that ap- 
 peared possible for him, was to repair at once to Oajaca ;• and, 
 having found its governor, Don Bernardino Bonavia, obtain from 
 him a detachment ot troops, with which he might return and punish 
 the insurgent assassins. 
 
 Unfortunately for Don Rafael, notwithstanding the distinguished 
 reception accorded to him by the governor, the latter could not 
 place at his disposal a single soldier. The province was already in 
 such a state of fermentation, that all the men under his command 
 were required to keep in check the revolt that threatened to break 
 out in the provincial capital itself. Don Rafael therefore conld not 
 prevail upon the governor to enfeeble the garrison of Oajaca, by de- 
 taching any portion of it on so distant a service as an expedition to 
 the hacienda Del Valle. 
 
 While negotiating, however, word reached him of a royalist corps 
 th it was being raised at no £reat distance from Oajaca, by a Span- 
 ish officer, Don Juan Antonio Caldelas. Don Rafael, urged on by 
 a thirst for vengeance, hastened to join the band of Caldelas, who on 
 Irs part at once agreed to place his handful of men at the disposal 
 of the dragoon captain for the pursuit of Valdez. Of course Cal- 
 delas had himself no personal animosity against the insurgent lead- 
 er ; but believing that the destruction of his band would crush the 
 insurrection in the province, he was the more ready to co-operate 
 with Don Rafael. 
 
 Both together marched against Valdez, and encountered him and 
 his followers at the cerro of Chacahua, where the ex-vaquero had en- 
 trenched himself. An action was fought which result in Valdez be- 
 ing driven from his entrenchments, but without Don Rafael being 
 able to possess himself of his person, a thing he desired even more 
 thin a victory over his band. 
 
178 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 A fortnight was spent in vain searches, and still the guerilla chief 
 continued to escape the vengeance of his unrelenting pursuer. 
 
 At the end of that period, however, the insurgents were once more 
 tempted to try a battle with the followers of Don Rafael and Calde- 
 las. It proved a sanguinary action, in which the royalists were vic- 
 torious. The scattered followers of Valdez, when re-united, at the 
 rendezvous agreed upon in the event of their being defeated, per- 
 ceived that their leader was missing from among them. 
 
 Alive they never saw him again. His dead body was found some 
 distance from the held of battle, and around it the traces of a struggle 
 which had ended in his death. The body was headless, but the head was 
 afterwards discovered, nailed to the gate of the hacienda Del Valle, 
 with the features so disfigured that his most devoted adherents 
 would not have recognized them but for an inscription underneath. 
 It was the name of the insurgent, with that of the man who had be- 
 headed him, Don Rafael Tres Villas. 
 
 Valdez had fled from the field after the defeat of his followers. 
 Before proceeding far, he heard behind him the hoarse snorting of a 
 steed. It was the buy- brown of Don Rafael. 
 
 Jn a few bounds the insurgent was overtaken. A short struggle 
 took place between the two horsemen ; but the ex-vaquero, notwith- 
 standing his equestrian skill, was seized in the powerful grasp of the 
 dragoon officer, lifted clear out of his saddle, and dashed with vio- 
 lence to the earth. Before he could recover himself, the lasso of 
 Don Rafael — equally skilled in the use of this singular weapon — was 
 coiled around him ; and his body, after being dragged for some dis- 
 tance at the tail of the officer's horse, lay lifeless and mutilated upon 
 the ground. Such was the end of Antonio Valdez. 
 
FATAL MISUNDERSTANDINGS. 1?'J 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 FATAL MISUNDERSTANDINGS. 
 
 The dea^h ;>i this first victim, offered to the manes of his murdered 
 father, had to some extent the effect of appeasing the vengeful pas- 
 sion of Don Rafael. At all events his spirit became calmer; and 
 other sentiments long slumbering at the bottom of his heart began 
 to usurp their sway. He perceived the necessity of justifying his 
 conduct — which he knew must appear inexplicable to the inhabitants 
 of the hacienda Las Palmas. Had he done so at that moment all 
 would have been well; but unfortunately a certain spirit of pride 
 interfered to hinder him. A son who had punished the murderer of 
 his father, ought he to excuse himself for what he felt to be a holy 
 duty 1 Moreover, could he expect pardon for becoming the enemy 
 of a cause he could no longer call his own ? 
 
 This haughty silence on the part of Don Rafael could not other- 
 wise than complete the ruin of his hopes, and render still more im- 
 passable the gulf that had been so suddenly and unexpectedly 
 opened up between his love and his duty. 
 
 The news of Valdez' death — brought to the hacienda of Las Pal- 
 mas by a passing messenger — together with the tenour of the in- 
 scription that revealed the author of it, had fallen like a bomb-shell 
 into the family circle of Don Mariano de Silva. Unfortunately 
 the same messenger had failed to report the assassination of Don 
 Luis Tres-Villas — for the simple reason that he had not heard of it. 
 His hosts, therefore, remained ignorant of the cause of this terrible 
 reprisal. 
 
 From that moment, therefore, the family of Las Palmas could 
 not otherwise than regard the dragoon captain as a traitor, who, 
 under the pretence of the purest patriotism, had concealed the most 
 ardent sympathies for the oppressors of his country. Nevertheless 
 
180 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 the love of Gertrudis essayed that justification, which the pride of 
 Don Rafael had restrained him from making. 
 
 "O my father !*' exclaimed she, overwhelmed with grief, "do not 
 judge him too hastily. It is impossible he can be a traitor to his 
 country s cause. One day — 1 am sure of it — one day, he will send 
 a message to explain what has occured." 
 
 "And when he does explain," responded Don Mariano, with bit- 
 terness, " will he be less a traitor to his country 1 ? No — we need 
 not hope. lie will not even attempt to justify his unworthv con- 
 duct. " 
 
 in fine, the message came not ; and Gertrudis was compelled to 
 devour her grief in silence. 
 
 Nevertheless the audacious defiance to the insurrection implied in 
 the act of Don Rafael, and the inscription that announced it, had 
 something in it of a chivalric character, which was not displeasing 
 to the spirit of Gertrudis. It did not fail to plead the cause of the 
 absent lover; and at one time her affection was even reconquered — 
 that is, when it came to be known that the head of the insurgent 
 chief had replaced that of Don Rafael's father, and that it was blood 
 that had been paid for blood. 
 
 If in that crisis the captain had presented himself, Don Mariano, 
 it is true, might not have consented to his daughter forming an al- 
 liance with a renegade to the Mexican cause. The profound patrio- 
 tism of the haciendado might have revolted at such a connection ; 
 but an explanation, frank and sincere, would have expelled from the 
 thoughts but of himself and his daughter all idea of treason or dis- 
 loyalty o.i the part of Don Rafael. The latter, ignorant of the fact 
 that the news of his father's death had not reached Las Palmas — > 
 until a period posterior to the report of that of Valdez — very natur- 
 ally neglected the favourable moment for an echiircissement. 
 
 How many irreparable misfortunes spring from that same cause 
 — misunderstanding ! 
 
 The two captains, Caldelas and Tres-Villas soon transformed the 
 hacienda or Del Valle into a species of fortress, which some species 
 of cannon, received from the governor of the province, enabled 
 them to do. In strength the place might defy any attack which the 
 insurgent bands of the neighbourhood could direct against it. 
 
 During the constant excursions which he made against the other 
 two assassins of his father, Arroyo and Boeardo, Don Rafael left 
 the charge of their citadel to the Captain Caldelas. 
 
 Listening only to the whisperings of his heart, he had finished by 
 making a compromise between his love and his pride. Repelling 
 
FATAL MISUNDERSTANDINGS. 181 
 
 the idea of communicating by a messenger, he had At one time re^ 
 solved to present himself in person at the hacienda of Las Palmas; 
 but, carried forward by the ardour of his vengeance, he dreaded that 
 an interview with Gertrudis might have the effect of weakening his 
 resolution ; and for this reason he deferred seeking the interview, 
 until he should complete the accomplishment of that rash vow made 
 over the grave of his murdered parent. 
 
 Notwithstanding the almost superhuman efforts which he daily 
 made in the pursuit of the insurgents, the result was not such as to 
 appease his spirit of vengeance. 
 
 Man by man did he accomplish the destruction of their band ; but 
 both the leaders contrived to escape. In fine, after more than two 
 months had passed since the death of Valdez, the rumour became 
 spread throughout the neighbourhood that Arroyo and Bocardo had 
 quitted the province of Oajaca, and gone northward with the rem- 
 nant of their guerrilla to offer their services to General Hidalgo. 
 
 On receiving this news Don Rafael, who had been absent on a 
 protracted scout, returned to the hacienda Del Valle. During his 
 absence, an order had arrived from the general-in-chief of the vice- 
 regal army, commanding him to return to duty with his regiment 
 — the Queen's dragoons. 
 
 Before obeying this order, however, he resolved on devoting one 
 day to the affairs of his heart ; and, permitting his love to conquer 
 his pride, he determined on presenting himself at the hacienda of 
 Las Palmas. 
 
 Alas ! it might now be too late. A justification in the eyes of 
 Don Mariano would now be more difficult than it might have been 
 two months before. During that time appearances had been con- 
 verted into realities, suspicions into certainties, and Don Rafael was 
 for him no longer aught but a common renegade. Certain words 
 which he was in the habit of repeating to his daughter, told too 
 plainly his opinion of the dragoon captain ; and these words rang in 
 the ears of Gertrudis as a sad presentiment which she almost be- 
 lieved already accomplished. 
 
 " Do not weep for the defection of Don Rafael," said the hacien- 
 dado, endeavoring to dry his daughter's tears. " He will be false 
 to his mistress, as he has been to his country." 
 
 What appeared a strange circumstance in the eyes of the father — • 
 these words only caused Gertrudis to weep the more abundantly 
 and bitterly ! 
 
 Nevertheless, such had been the former friendship of Don Mari- 
 ano for the voung officer— such the tender passion kindled in tho 
 
182 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 heart of Gertrudis — that it is possible, had Don Rafael even then 
 presented himself before them — his countenance open and beaming 
 with the manly pride of accomplished duty — the frankness of his 
 bearing, and the loyalty of his speech, might have still dissipated the 
 clouds that hung over the heads of all. 
 
 Unfortunately destiny had decided otherwise. It was not decreed 
 by fate that at that hour Don Rafael should enter, as a friend, the 
 hospitable gates of the hacienda Las Palmas. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 A RUDE RECEPTION. 
 
 Don Rafael had now become known throughout all Oajaca as 
 one of the most energetic foes of the insurrection. Among the coun- 
 try-people, therefore — the majority of whom were of Creole blood, 
 and of course revolutionary in principle — he need not expect to 
 meet many friends. Every man whom he might encounter was 
 pretty certain of being his enemy. For this reason, although it was 
 only a league from the hacienda Del Valle to that of Las Palmas, 
 he deemed it prudent to take half-a-dozen of his troopers along with 
 him — a wise precaution, as the event proved. 
 
 After crossing the chain of hills that separated the two estates, the 
 dragoon captain and his escort rode direct for the postern of the 
 hacienda Las Palmas, that opened to the rear of the building. This, 
 for some reason, had been recently walled up ; and it became neces- 
 sary for them to go round to the main entrance in front. Scarce, 
 however, had the horse of Don Rafael doubled the angle of the wall, 
 when he and his little band were suddenly confronted by a score of 
 horsemen of ruffianly aspect, who opposed the passage, the leader of 
 them vociferating loudly : — 
 
 " Muera al traidor — mucran los coyotes /" (Death to the traitor ! 
 — death to the jackals !) 
 
 At the same instant one of the assailants, charging recklessly for- 
 ward, brought his horse into collision with that of Don Rafael, and 
 with such a violent shock that the steed of the dragoon officer was 
 thrown to the ground. 
 
 In this crisis the agility of Don Rafael, along with his herculean 
 strength, enabled him to save himself. Instantly disengaging his 
 limbs from the body of his horse, he sprang upon* that of one of hit 
 
A. RUDE RECEPTION-. 183 
 
 escort who had just fallen from his saddle, thrust through by one of 
 the insurgents; and after a short struggle, in which several of the 
 assailants succumbed, Don Rafael, with his tive remaining followers, 
 was enabled to retreat back to the ridge, where their enemies had 
 not the courage to follow them. 
 
 One of his men killed — with the loss of his favorite bay-brown 
 — such was the result of Don Rafael's attempt to justify his con- 
 duct after two months of silence ! No wonder that with bitter 
 emotions he retraced his steps to the hacienda Del Valle. 
 
 His heart was wrung with grief and disappointment. This 
 hacienda of Las Pal mas, where two months before he had been the 
 honoured guest, now sheltered the enemies that were thirsting for his 
 blood. 
 
 These, after their unsuccessful attempt to possess themselves of 
 the person of Don Rafael, hastened back towards the entrance of 
 the building. 
 
 " You stupid sot !" exclaimed one of them, speaking in angry 
 tones, and addressing a companion by his side; "why did you not 
 allow him to get into the hacienda? Once inside, we should have 
 had him at our mercy, and then Carajo." 
 
 The speaker, a man of ferocious and brutal aspect, here made a 
 gesture of fearful meaning, as an appropriate finish to his speech. 
 
 " Don Mariano would not have permitted it, 1 ' rejoined the other, 
 by way of excusing himself for having been the cause of the dra- 
 goon officer's escape. ' ; Once under his roof, he would never have 
 consented to our molesting him." 
 
 "Bah!" exclaimed the first speaker. " It's past the time when 
 we require to ask Don Mariano's permission. We are no longer 
 his servants. The time is come when the servants shall be the 
 masters, and the masters the servants, Carajo ! What care I for 
 the emancipation of the country ! What I care for is blood and 
 plunder." 
 
 The fierce joy that blazed in the eyes of the speaker as he pro- 
 nounced the last words, told too plainly that these were his verita- 
 ble sentiments. 
 
 The second of the two brigands who, though smaller in size and 
 of a more astute expression of countenance, was equally character* 
 ised by an aspect of brutal ferocity — for a moment appeared to 
 quail before the indignation of his companion. 
 
 " Carajo /" continued the first, "we have got to shift our quar- 
 ters. If that furious captain finds out that we are here, he will set 
 
184 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 fire to the four corners of the hacienda, and roast us alive in it. 
 Fool that 1 Avas to listen to you !" 
 
 " Who could have foreseen that he would have got off so?" said 
 the lesser man, still endeavoring to excuse, himself. 
 
 " You, Curved /" thundered the bandit ; and overcome by rage and 
 chagrin at the escape of his mortal enemy, he drew his poignard, 
 and struck a left-handed blow at the bosom of his associate. The 
 latter severely wounded, uttering a cry of pain, fell heavily from 
 his horse. 
 
 Without staying to see whether or not he had killed his comrade, 
 the guerillero dashed through the gate of the hacienda; and, dis- 
 mounting in the court-) aid, ran, carbine in hand, up the stone stair- 
 way that led to the azotea. 
 
 Meanwhile Don Rafael and his five horsemen were ascending the 
 hill that sloped up from the rear of the building. 
 
 "Santos Dios! it is very strange !" remarked one of the troop- 
 ers to a companion. "It's the general belief that Arroyo and 
 Bocardo have quitted the province, but if I'm not mistaken " 
 
 " It was they, to a certainty," interrupted the second trooper. 
 " I know them well, only I didn't wish to tell our captain. lie is so 
 furious against these two fellows, that if he had only known it was 
 they who attacked us, we should not have had much chance of be- 
 ing permitted to retreat as we have done." 
 
 The man had scarce finished speaking when the report of a car- 
 bine, fired from the roof of the hacienda, reverberated along the 
 ridge, and the trooper fell mortally wounded from his saddle. 
 
 A bitter smile curled upon the lips of Don Rafael, and a sharp 
 pang shot through his heart, as he compared the adieu he was now 
 receiving from the inhabitants of the hacienda, with that which had 
 accompanied his departure but two months before. 
 
 The fatal bullet had struck that very trooper who had judged it 
 prudent to conceal from his officer the. names of his assailants. 
 
 " Tis Arroyo who has fired the shot !"' involuntarily exclaimed 
 the other, who also believed that he had recognised the insurgent. 
 
 " Arroyo '."exclaimed the captain, in a tone of angry surprise : 
 "Arroyo within that hacienda, and you have not told me !" added 
 he, in a furious voice, while his moustachios appeared to crisp with 
 rage. 
 
 The trooper was for the moment in great danger of almost as 
 rude treatment as Arroyo had just given his associate. Don Rafael 
 restrained himself, however ; and without waiting to reflect on coiv 
 
A RUDE RECEPTION. 185 
 
 sequences, he ordered one of his followers — the best mounted of 
 them — to proceed at once to the hacienda Del Valle, and bring fifty 
 men well armed, with a piece of cannon by which the gate of Las 
 Palmas might be broken open. 
 
 The messenger departed at a gallop, while Don Rafael and his 
 three remaining troopers, screening themselves behind the crest of 
 the ridge, sat in their saddles silently awaiting his return. 
 
 It was long before Don Rafael's blood began to cool ; and in pro- 
 portion as it did so, he experienced a degree of sorrow for the act 
 of hostility he was about to undertake against the father of Gertru 
 dis. 
 
 A violent contest commenced within his breast, between two op- 
 posing sentiments of nearly equal strength. Whether he persisted 
 in his resolution, or retreated from it, both courses seemed equally 
 criminal. The voice of duty, and that of passion, spoke equally 
 loud. To which shuul I he listen 1 
 
 The struggle, long and violent, between these antagonistic senti- 
 ments, had not yet terminated, when the detachment arrived upon 
 the ground. This decided him. It was too late to retire from his 
 first determination. On towards the hacienda ! 
 
 Don Rafael drew his sword, and, placing himself at the head of 
 his troop, rode down the hill. The bugle sounding the" advance," 
 warned the inhabitants of the hacienda that a detachment of ca- 
 valry was crossing the ridge. 
 
 A few minutes after, the squadron halted before the great gate; at 
 a little distance from the walls. A horseman advanced in front of 
 the line, and once more having sounded the bugle, in the name of 
 Don Rafael Tres-Villas, Captain of the Royalist army, summoned 
 Don Mariano de Silva to deliver up, dead or alive, the insurgents, 
 Arroyo and Bocardo. 
 
 The demand having been made, Don Rafael, with pale face, and 
 heart audibly beating, sat motionless in his saddle to await the res* 
 ponse. 
 
 Silence — profound silence alone made reply to the summons of 
 the horseman and the sound of his trumpet, 
 
CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 BEARDING A BRIGAND. 
 
 In addition to the consequences that would arise from his resolve 
 ^—already foreseen by Don Rafael Tres- Villas — there was one other 
 of which he could not have had any foresight. 
 
 A glance into the interior of the hacienda will proclaim this con- 
 sequence. 
 
 Within that chamber, already known to the reader, were Don 
 Mariano de Silva, with his two daughters; and their situation was 
 enough to justify the silence which succeeded the summons of the 
 dragoon. Inside the closed door, and by the side of the two young 
 girls, stood Arroyo and Bocardo. Poignard in hand, the brigands 
 were tracing out to Don Mariano the line of conduct he should 
 pursue. 
 
 " Listen to me, Don Mariano de Silva," said the former, with an 
 air of brutal mockery that was habitual to him," I rather think you 
 are too loyal a gentlemen to dishonour the laws of hospitality by 
 delivering up your guests." 
 
 " It is true, " replied the haciendado, " you may rest assured " 
 
 " I know it," continued Arroy/), interrupting him ; ■ you would 
 not betray us of your own accord. But this demon of a dragoon 
 captain will break open the gate, and take us in spite of your en- 
 treaties. Now, listen ! and hear what I wish you to do." 
 
 " Can vou suggest any means of preventing him from acting 
 thus ?" 
 
 "Nothing more simple, good Senor de Silva. This coyote of the 
 devil is your personal friend. If in the quality of your serving 
 man — that is, in times past — I chanced to apprehend a little of what 
 was going on, you cannot blame me. If lam not mistaken, the 
 dragoon captain has a little weakness for the pretty Dona Gertrudis. 
 
BEARDING A BRIGAND. 187 
 
 For that reason he will pay some regard to the clanger that now 
 hangs over the young lady's head." 
 
 " Danger ! I do not comprehend you." 
 
 " You will, presently. You may say to the captain outside there 
 that if he persists in breaking open your gates, he may capture us 
 alive. That he may do, beyond doubt ; but as to yourself, and 
 your two daughters, he will find nothing more of you than your 
 dead bodies. You understand me now ?" 
 
 Arroyo need not have been so explicit. Half the speech would 
 have been enough to explain his fearful meaning. The air of fero- 
 city that characteiised his features was sufficiently indicative of his 
 thoughts. 
 
 The daughters of Don Mariano, terrified at his looks, flung them- 
 selves simultaneously into the arms of their father. 
 
 At that moment the. notes of the bugle resounded through the 
 building ; and the voice of the dragoon was heard for the second 
 time pronouncing his summons. 
 
 The haciendado, troubled about the fate of his children — thus 
 completely in the power of his unfaithful vaqueros, whose compan- 
 ions crowded the corridor — permitted the second summons to pass 
 without response. 
 
 " Mil Demonios /" cried the bandit, " why do you hesitate 1 
 Come ! show yourself as the window, and make known to this 
 furious captain what I have told you. Carraif if you do not " 
 
 The bugle sounding for the third summons drowned the remain- 
 der of the brigand's speech. As soon as the trumpet notes had 
 ceased to echo from the \ alls, a voice was heard from without, the 
 tones of which produced within the heart of Gertrudis at the 
 same moment both fear and joy. 
 
 It was the voice of Rafael, 
 
 Quickly following it were heard the cries of the troopers as they 
 called aloud — 
 
 '• Death to the enemies of Spain !" 
 
 "One moment!" shouted Don Mariano, presenting himself at the 
 window, where he could command a view of the plain below; " I 
 have two words to say to your captain ; where is he ?" 
 
 " ITere !" responded Don Rafael, riding a pace or two in front. 
 
 "Ah! pardon," said the haciendado, with a bitter smile; "I 
 have hitherto known Captain Tres-Villas only as a friend. I could 
 not recognise him in the man who threatens with ruin the house 
 whore he has been a guest." 
 
 At this imprudent speech — whose irony Don Mariano had not 
 
188 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 been able to conceal — the face of the Captain, hitherto deadly pale, 
 became red. 
 
 " And I," he replied, " can only recognise in you the promoter 
 of an impious insurrection, which I have striven to crush, and the 
 master of a mansion of which brigands are the guests. You have 
 understood my summons'? They must be delivered up."' 
 
 " In any case," rejoined the haciendado, " I should not have be- 
 trayed those I had promised to protect. As it is, however, I am 
 not left to my own choice in this matter; and 1 am charged to say 
 to you, on the part of those whom you pursue, that they will 
 poignard my two daughters and myself before suffering themselves 
 to fall into your hands. Our lives depend on them, Captain Tres- 
 Villas. It is for you to say, whether you still persist in your de- 
 mand, that they be delivered up to you."' 
 
 The irony had completely disappeared from the speech and coun- 
 tenance of the haciendado, and his last words were |>roi:oimced 
 with a sad but firm dignity, that went to the heart of Don Rafael. 
 
 A cloud came over it at the thought of Gcrtrudis failing under the 
 daggers of the guerilleros, whom he knew to be capable of executing 
 their threat; and it was almost with a feeling of relief that lie per- 
 ceived this means of escaping from a duty, whose fulfillment he had 
 hitherto regarded as imperious. 
 
 " Well, then," said he, after a short silence, and in a tone that be- 
 spoke the abandonment of his resolution, "say to the brigand, who 
 is called Arroyo, that he has nothing to fear, if he will only show 
 himself. I pledge my solemn word to this. ] do not mean to grant 
 him pardon — only that reprieve which humanity claims for him." 
 
 "Oh! I don't require your solemn word," cried the bandit, im. 
 pudently presenting himself by the side of Don Mariano. "Inside 
 here I have two hostages, that will answer for niv life better than 
 your word. You wish me to show myself. What want you with 
 me, Senor Captain V 
 
 With the veins of his forehead swollen almost to bursting, his lip 
 quivering with rage, and his eyes on fire, Don Rafael looked upon 
 the assassin of his father — the man whom he had so long vainly 
 pursued — the brigand, in fine, whom he could seize in a moment, and 
 yet was compelled to let escape. No wonder that it tost him an ef- 
 fort to subdue the impetuous passions that were struggling in his 
 breast. 
 
 Involuntarily his hand closed upon the reins of his bridle, -and his 
 •purs pressed against the flanks of his horse, till the animal, torment- 
 
BEARDING A BRIGAND. ISO 
 
 ed by the touch, reared upwards, and bounded forward almost to 
 the walls of the hacienda. 
 
 One might have fancied that his rider intended to clear the obsta- 
 cle that separated him from his cowardly enemy — who, on his part, 
 could not restrain himself from making a gesture of affright. 
 
 "That which I wish of the brigand Arroyo," a1 length responded 
 the Captain, " is to fix his features in my memory, so that 1 may 
 know them again, when I pursue him, to drag his living body after 
 the heels of my horse." 
 
 " 1 1 " it. is to promise me only such favors that you have called me 
 out " said the bandit, making a motion to re-enter his cham- 
 ber. 
 
 " Stay — hear me !" cried Don Rafael, interrupting him with a 
 gesture; "your life is safe. I have said it. Humanity has com- 
 pelled me to spare you." 
 
 " Carrambo ! I am grateful, Captain ; I know the act is to your 
 taste." 
 
 " Gratitude from you would be an insult ; but if in the red ditch- 
 water that runs through your heart there be a spark of courage, 
 mount your horse, choose what arms you please, and come forth. I 
 defy you to single combat !" 
 
 Don Rafael in pronouncing this challenge rose erect in his stirrups. 
 His countenance, noble and defiant, presented a strange contrast to 
 the aspect of vulgar ferocity that characterized the features of the 
 man thus addressed. The insult was point blank, and would have 
 aroused the veriest poltroon ; but Arroyo possessed only the cour- 
 age of the vulture. 
 
 "indeed?" responded he, sneeringly. "Bah! do you suppose 
 me such a fool as to go down there"? fifty to one !" 
 
 " I pledge my honour, as a gentleman," continued the captain, "as 
 an officer, in the presence of his soldiers ; as a Christian, in the pres- 
 ence of his Go 1 — that whatever may be the issue of the combat — 
 — that is, if I succumb — no harm shall happen to you." 
 
 For a moment the bandit appeared to hesitate. One might have 
 fancied that he was calculating the chances of an encounter. But 
 the address and valour of the dragoon captain were known to him 
 by too many proofs, to allow him to reckon many chances in his 
 favour. He dared not risk the combat. 
 
 "1 refuse," he said, at length. 
 
 " Mount your horse. I shall abandon mine, and fight you on 
 foot." 
 
190 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " Demonio ! I refuse, I tell you." 
 
 w Enough. I might have known it. One word more then. I 
 shall still agree to your life being spared. 1 solemnly promise it, if 
 you will allow the inmates of this hacienda to leave the place, and 
 put themselves under the safeguard of a loyal enemy." 
 
 " I refuse again," said the bandit, with a demoniac sneer. 
 
 "Away, poltroon! you are less than man; and, by the God of 
 vengeance, when this hand clutches you, you shall not die as a man, 
 but as a mad dog." 
 
 After delivering this terrible adieu, the captain put spurs to his 
 horse, turning his back upon the bandit with a gesture of the most 
 profound contempt. 
 
 The bugle sounded the " forward ;" and the detachment, wheeling 
 around the wall of the hacienda, once more took the road that led 
 over the ridge. 
 
 Among other bitter reflections, with which this interview had fur- 
 nished Don Rafael, not the least painful was his apprehension for 
 the safety of Gertrudis. No wonder he should have fears; consid- 
 ering the character of the ruffians in whose power he was compelled 
 to leave her. 
 
 The apprehensions of Don Rafael were only realized in part. 
 
 Two days afterwards he received information from one of hi^ 
 scouts — sent to Las Palmas for the purpose — that Arroyo and Bo 
 cardo had quitted the neighbourhood — this time in reality — and 
 that Don Mariano and his daughters had suffered no further injury 
 from them, beyond the pillage of their hacienda. This the robbers 
 had stripped of every valuable that it was convenient for them to 
 carry away. 
 
CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 RONCADOR RESTORED. 
 
 Captain Tres- Villas now compelled to obey the order he had 
 received from the commander-in-chief, proceeded to rejoin his regi- 
 ment. Caldelas, at the same period, promoted to the rank of com- 
 mandant, was summoned away from Del Valle ; and the garrison 
 of the hacienda which still remained fell under the command of Lieu- 
 tenant Veraegui, a Catalan. 
 
 During the events which followed, Don Rafael saw a great deal 
 of active service. He bore a conspicuous part in the battle of Cal- 
 deron, where the Royalist general, Calleja, with only six thousand 
 soldiers, routed the undisciplined army of Hidalgo, numbering near- 
 ly an hundred thousand men ! 
 
 After being carried by the chances of the campaign into almost 
 every province of the vice-royalty, Don Rafael was at length or- 
 dered back to Oajaca, to assist in the siege of Huajapam. It was 
 while on his passage to this latter province from the fort of San 
 Bias, that he appeared for a moment off the isle of Roqueta." 
 
 At the siege of Huajapam, his old comrade Caldelas re-appears 
 as a general ; while Don Rafael himself, less fortunate, has not risen 
 above the rank of Colonel. 
 
 Such, briefly, is the history of the dragoon captain up to the time 
 when the vaquero, Julian, arrived in the camp at Huajapam. 
 
 The. announcement of this messenger caused within the bosom of 
 Don Rafael an emotion sudden and vivid. Absence, remarks a 
 moralist, which soon dissipates a slight affection, has the very oppo- 
 site effect upon a profound passion. It only inflames it the more- — 
 just as the wind extinguishes the flame of a candle, while it aug- 
 ments the blaze of a conflagration. Absence had produced upon 
 Don Rafael an effect of the latter kind. He lived in the hope that 
 Gertrudis might some day send him a message of pardon and 
 
102 THE TIGER-IIL'NTER. 
 
 love. No wonder, then, that he was moved by the arrival of a mes- 
 senger from that part of the country. 
 
 "'Well, Julian," said he, in a tone of assumed carelessness; 
 " you have news for me — what is it, my lad? 1 hope the insurgents 
 have not captured our fortress?" 
 
 "Oh, no, master," replied Julian-; ' "he soldiers ;i the hacienda only 
 complain of having nothing to do. A little scout' g through the 
 country — when th v rni'ghl have the chance of sacking a rich 
 en hi — would be more to their taste and fan _y. • th 
 
 which ! bring to your Honour will probably procure them this op- 
 portunity." 
 
 " You bring news of our enemy I presume?" 
 
 The tone of disappointment in which this interrogatory was put, 
 was sufficiently marked to strike even the ear of Julian. 
 
 " Yes, Captain," replied he, "but 1 have other messages; and, to 
 begin with that which is least important, I fancy it will be Agreeable 
 to your honour to know, that 1 have brought along with me your 
 favorite, Koncador." 
 
 " Koncador ?" 
 
 "Yes; the brave bay-brown you lost in your affair at Las Pal- 
 mas. He has been recovered for you, and taken care of. Ah ! he 
 has been marvelously cared for, 1 can assure your Honour. lie was 
 sent back to the hacienda." 
 
 "Who sent him?" hastily inquired Don Rafael. 
 
 " Why, who could it be, your Honour, but Don Mariano de Silva. 
 One of his people brought the horse to 1 VI Valle three days ago — 
 saying that he supposed the owner of such a fine animal would be 
 pleased to have him again. As the saddle and bridle had been lost, 
 a new saddle and bridle were sent along with him. Ah ! splendid 
 they are — the bridle, with a pretty bunch of red ribbons on the 
 frontlet ! " 
 
 " Where are these ribbons?" hastily asked Don Rafael, carried 
 away by the thought that a sight of them might enable him to di- 
 vine whether the hand of Gertrudis had attached them to the 
 frontlet. 
 
 " One of our people — Felipe el Galan — took them to make a 
 cockade with." 
 
 " Felipe is a silly fellow, whom, one of these days, I shall punish 
 for his indiscretion." 
 
 "I told him so, your Honour ; but hewouh 1 take them. I should 
 add, your Honour, that the servant of Don Mariano also brought a 
 letter for you." 
 
RONCADOll RESTORED. 193 
 
 " Ah ! why did you not tell me so at first '?" 
 
 " 1 began at the. beginning, your Honour," replied the phlegmatic 
 Julian. " Here is the letter." 
 
 The messenger drew from the pocket of his jaqueta a small packet 
 done up in a leaf of maize, inside which he had prudently concealed 
 the letter. Unfolding the leaf, he handed the note to Don Rafael, 
 whose hand visibly trembled on taking it. 
 
 In vain did he attempt to dissemble his emotion under the studied 
 air of coolness with which he received the letter, which he permitted 
 to remain unopened. 
 
 This letter, thought he, should be from Gertrudis; and he dwelt 
 on the voluptuous pleasure he was about to enjoy while reading it 
 alone. 
 
 " Well, Julian," said he, after a pause, "anything else have you 
 to tell me of?" 
 
 "Yes, your Honour; the most important of all. Arroyo, Bocar- 
 do, and their bandits have returned to the neighborhood ; and Lieu- 
 tenant Veraegui has charged me to say to you — — " 
 
 "Arroyo! Bocardo ?" interrupted Don Rafael, all at once 
 re-awaking from his sweet dreams to thoughts of vengeance. "Tell 
 Lieutenant Veraegui to give double rations to his horses, and get 
 them ready for a campaign. Say that in two or three days I shall 
 be with him, and we shall enter upon it. The last assault upon 
 Huajapam is to be made this very day, and the phice must either 
 fall, or we raise the siege. 1 shall then obtain leave from the com- 
 mander-in-chief, and by the Virgin ! 1 shall capture these two ruffians, 
 or set the whole province on fire. Vaya, Julian /" 
 
 Julian was about to depart, when Don Rafael's eye, once more 
 alighting upon the little billet which promised to yield him a mo- 
 ment of sweet happiness, called the messenger back to him. 
 
 "Stay a moment !" said he, looking around for his purse, "you 
 have been the bearer of good news, Julian. Here !" And, as he 
 said 'his, he placed in the hands of the messenger an onza of gold. 
 
 Julian accepted the douceur with eagerness — not without profound 
 astonishment at being so generously recompensed for reporting the 
 reappearance of Arroyo and his band ! Nevertheless, his satisfaction 
 at the perquisite far exceeded his surprise. 
 
 As soon as he had gone out of the tent, Don Rafael took the let- 
 ter from the table — wh' r-.> he had for the moment deposited it — and 
 held it for some sec;-nr!s in his hand without daring to open it. His 
 heart rose and fell in violent pulsations, for he had no doubt that 
 the letter was from Gertrudis, and it was the first souvenir he had 
 
194 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 received from her for nearly two years — since he had embraced the 
 Royalist cause. 
 
 In fine, he opened the note. Although written in a feminine hand, 
 it was more like that of Marianita than Gertrudis, and contained 
 only the following words: — 
 
 " The inmates of Las Palmas are not forgetful that they have 
 received a kindness from Don Rafael Tres-Villas under very criti- 
 cal circumstances; and they believe that the Colonel Tres-Villas 
 might be gratified at having restored to him the noble steed which 
 the Captain Tres-Villas had such reason to esteem." 
 
 "A kindness!" exclaimed Don Rafael, with bitter em^iiasis, 
 " what ingratitude ! A service rendered by the betrayal of fed oath 
 sworn over the head of my murdered father ! They call it a kind- 
 ness — an act of simple politeness, forsooth ! Oh ! 1 must endeavor 
 to think no more of those who have forgotten me." 
 
 And with a bitter sigh the Colonel strode forth from his tent, 
 and proceeded towards the marquee of the Commander-in-chief—^ 
 where the council of war was at that moment assembling. 
 
 Notwithstanding his chagrin, however, Don Rafael did not tear 
 up the letter that had caused such disappointment, nor yet did he 
 fling it away. Perhaps it had been touched by the hand of Gertm 
 dis; and, with this thought passing through his mind, he placed the 
 billet in a little pocket in his uniform, which chanced to be on the 
 left side, just over his heart. 
 
 While passing towards head-quarters, another reflection crossed 
 his mind, that exerted a consolatory influence upon his spirits. 
 Gertrudis knew how much he prized the noble bay-brown — so often 
 caressed by her hand. Was it for that reason the horse had been 
 sent back to him? Was it she who had attached the rosette of 
 ribbons to the bridle, to recall the flowers of the grenadine which 
 in happier times she had placed upon his frontlet 1 
 
 It was sweet happiness to believe it was she. 
 
THE COUNCIL OF WAR. 1 C J", 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 THE COUNCIL OF WAR. 
 
 The Commander-in-chief Bonavia, the generals of brigade — Cal« 
 delas and Regules — were seated around a table covered with a green 
 cloth, when Don Rafael entered the marquee. The council had not 
 yet commenced. 
 
 " Ah ' Colonel," cried Bonavia, addressing Don Rafael, as he 
 entered, '• I understand you have received a message from Del 
 Valle. Is it of a private nature, or one that may assist the Roy- 
 alist cause ?" 
 
 " The lieutenant who commands the garrison of Del Valle 
 informs me that those two guerilleros, whom both sides now regard 
 as outlaws — Arroyo and Bocardo, I mean — have returned to Oajaca 
 with their band. I have the honour to solicit from your Excellency 
 that, after this place is taken, you will grant me permission to go in 
 pursuit of these brigands, and hunt them as wild beasts." 
 
 " You shall have leave to do so, Colonel. I know no one better 
 qualified to perform such a duty." 
 
 "I can promise your Excellency that no one will set about it with 
 more zeal, nor follow it up with more perseverance." 
 
 The war council was then inaugurated without further delay. 
 
 Without reporting all that passed at Huajapam, we shall give 
 details that may render more clear the relative situation of the be- 
 seiged and the besiegers at this memorable blockade of Huajapam. 
 
 " Gentlemen," began Bonavia, addressing himself to his assem- 
 bled officers, " it is now one hundred and fourteen days since we 
 opened siege upon this paltry town. Without counting skirmishes, 
 we have made fourteen regular attacks upon it; and yet we are at 
 this hour no nearer capturing it than we were on the first day !" 
 
 "Less nearer, I should say," interposed Regules, when the Com- 
 mander-in-chief had ceased speaking. " The confidence of the be- 
 
10$ THF. TI'JER-Il'JXTER. 
 
 sieged has grown stronger by the success of their obstinate resist 
 ance. When we first invested the place, they possessed not a single 
 cannon. Now they have three pieces, which this Colonel Trujano 
 has caused to be east but of the bells of the churches." 
 
 "That is as much as to say that General Regulea is of opinion we 
 should raise the siege 1" 
 
 This speech was delivered by Caldelas in a tone of irony, which 
 plainly expressed that a certain animosity existed between these two 
 generals. Such was in reality the fact — a feeling of rivalry having 
 long estranged them from each other. Caldelas was an energetic 
 officer, brave, and of undoubted loyalty ; while Regules, on the 
 other hand, was noted for unnecessary severity, while his courage 
 was more than questionable. 
 
 "It is just that question I have summoned you to discuss," said 
 Bonavia, without giving Regules time to reply to the taunt of his 
 rival," whether we are to raise the siege or continue it. It is for 
 Colonel Tres-Villas, who is the youngest of you, and of lowest 
 grade, to give his advice first. Pronounce, Colonel !" 
 
 "When fifteen hundred men besiege a place like Tluajapam, defen- 
 ded by only three hundred, they should either take it, or to the last 
 man die upon its ramparts. To do otherwise, would be to compro- 
 mise not only their own honour but the cause which they s; rve. 
 That is the opinion I have the honour of submitting to your Excel- 
 lency." 
 
 " And you, General Caldelas, what is your advice ?" 
 
 "I agree with the Colonel. To raise the siege would be a perni- 
 cious example for the Royalist troops, and a deplorable encourage- 
 ment to the insurrection. What w ould the brave Commander-in- 
 chief of our army — Don Felix Calleja — say to our raising the siege? 
 During a hundred days he besieged Cuautla A mil pas, defended by 
 a general far more skilful than Trujano — Morelos himself — and yet 
 on the hundredth day he was master of the town. 
 
 " Morelos evacuated the place," interposed Regules. 
 
 " What matter if he did ? By so doing, he acknowledged himself 
 defeated ; and the Spanish flag had the honours of a successful siege." 
 
 It was now the turn of Regules to give his opinion. 
 
 He reviewed at full length the delays and difficulties they had ex- 
 perienced ; the fruitless assaults and sanguinary skirmishes they had 
 made. He argued that it was impolitic to stand upon an empty 
 point of honour consuming the lives and courage of one thousand 
 soldiers in front of a paltry village, while Morelos was at that mo- 
 ment marching on the capital of Oajaca. 
 
THE COUNCIL OF WAR. 197 
 
 "And when I say a thousand soldiers, M continued he, "I do no* 
 speak without reason. The Colonel, in speaking of fifteen hundred, 
 must have counted our dead along with the living. Up to the pre- 
 sent time, in all other parts of the vice-kingdom, our tioops have 
 only encountered enemies, inspired by what they please to designate 
 'love of their country ;' while here in our front, we have a host of 
 religious fanatics, whom this droll muleteer, Trujano, has imbued 
 with his own spirit, and it must be confessed, with his courage as 
 well. It is not three hundred enemies against whom we are contend- 
 ing, but a thousand fanatics who fight under the influence of des- 
 pair, and die with a song upon their lips. While we are here wast- 
 ing time in useless attempts, the insurrection is spreading in other 
 parts of the province, where we might be profitably employed in 
 crushing it. My advice, then, is to raise a siege that has been disas- 
 trous in every point of view." 
 
 " The besieged no doubt recall the exploits of Yanguitlan," iroiri 
 cally remarked Caldelas. " That is why they defend themselves so 
 well." 
 
 At this allusion to Yanguitlan, which will be understood in the 
 sequel, Regules bit his lips with suppressed chagrin at the same 
 time darting a look of concentrated hatred upon his rival. 
 
 To the view of the case presented by Regules, the General-im 
 chief was disposed to give in his adhesion. Les.s accessible to mere 
 punctilios of honour than his younger officer^ he saw in the advice 
 of the brigadier reasons that were not wanting in a certain solidity. 
 Without, however, availing himself of the full authority of his rank, 
 he proposed an intermediate course. It was that on the morrow, 
 they should try one last and powerful attack ; and if that should prove 
 a failure then they might raise the siege. 
 
 While Bonavia was still speaking a singular noise reached the 
 tent, as if corning from the besieged town. It appeared as a chorus 
 of many voices intoning some solemn chaunt. This was followed 
 by the clangour of horns and trumpets, and the explosion of fire- 
 works — as if let off upon the occasion of a jubilee. 
 
 "These rejoicings," remarked Regules, "are an ill omen for us. 
 It is nut to-morrow that the siege should be raised, but this very 
 day." 
 
 " That is to say," rejoined Caldelas, " that we should take to 
 flight before an exhibition of fireworks !" 
 
 "Or, like the walls of Jericho, fall down at the sound of trum- 
 pets !" added the Colonel. 
 
IDS ^ - THE TI6ER-HUNTER. 
 
 " Well," said Rogules, " perhaps before long you may learn to 
 your cost that I have been right." 
 
 In spite of his opinion, however, a last assault was determined 
 upon, to take place on the following morning ; and after the plans 
 were discussed and arranged, Bonavia dissolved the council ; and 
 the officers proceeded to their respective tents. 
 
 Don Rafael hastened towards his : he was anxious to be alone. 
 Me desired to indulge in reflection — to ponder upon the meaning of 
 the message he had received — and above all to caress the sweet ray 
 of hope which had lately entered his heart, so long desolate and 
 sad. 
 
 He did not even deign to lend an ear to the tumultuous rejoicings 
 that came swelling from the beleaguered town ; although the whole 
 Royalist camp was at that moment occupied with these demonstra- 
 tions, the soldiers deeming them, as Regules had pronounced, sounds 
 of sinister import. 
 
VALERIC TKl'JAXO. 199 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 VALERIO TRUJANO. 
 
 In Colonel Valerio Trujano the reader will recognise the ex-mule- 
 teer, who, it will be remembered, declined exposing his life to the 
 chances of war before paving his debts. Though in full command 
 at Huajapam, he was simply a leader of guerilleros — nothing 
 more ; and in these partizan chieftains the country at the time aboun- 
 ded. The renown, however, which Trujano had gained within the 
 narrow sphere of his exploits, had already rendered him a subject 
 of constant inquietude to the governement of Oajaca ; and to crush 
 this formidable enemy had been the object of the march upon Hua- 
 japam, where Irujano chanced to be at the time. The Royalist of- 
 ficers believed that a favourable opportunity had offered, in the ab- 
 sence of two of Trujano's ablest supporters — Miguel aud Nicolas 
 Bravo — both of whom had been summoned by Morelos to assist at 
 the siege of Cuautla. 
 
 Such was the importance attached to the defeat of the religious 
 insurgent, that the government employed against him nearly every 
 soldier in the province — concentrating its whole force upon Huaja- 
 pam. 
 
 The little town was at the time entirely without fortifications of 
 any kind, and on all sid^s open to an enemy. All the more does 
 the remarkable defence made by Trujano deserve to be immortal- 
 ised. Fortunately for him the place was well supplied with pro- 
 visions. 
 
 For all this, resistance against such a superior force would have 
 been impossible according to the ordinary rules of war; and it was 
 not by these that Trujano succeeded in making it. 
 
 His first act was to store all the provisions in a common maga- 
 zine ; and these were served out every morning in rations to each 
 
200 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 soldier and each head of a family among the citizens. He alsc 
 established a code of discipline, almost monastic in its severity" ; 
 which discipline, from the first hour of the siege, in the midst of its 
 most sanguinary episodes, during the long period of nearly four 
 months, he managed to maintain without the slightest infraction, 
 The energy of his character, combined with the prudence of his 
 dispositions, obtained for him an irresistible ascendency over Loth 
 soldiers and citizens. 
 
 The time was distributed for various purposes in the same man- 
 ner as in a convent ; and the most part of it that was not taken up 
 by military duties, was spent in prayers and other devotional exer- 
 cises. Oations and vespers were performed in public — every one, 
 both soldiers and citizens, taking part; and in this remote village, 
 cut off from all communication with the world, amidst a population 
 little used to the pleasures of life, hourly prayers were offered up 
 with that fervour wifh which the mariner implores the protection of 
 God against the fury of the storm. 
 
 It must be acknowledged that these dispositions were somewhat 
 droll and eccentric. They were prudent, however ; since the follow- 
 ers of the insurgent chieftain, thus continually kept in occupation, 
 had no time to become discouraged. U provisions were becoming 
 scarce, they knew nothing about it. No curious gossips were per- 
 mitted to explore the magazines, and report upon their emptiness. 
 No indiscreet tongue was allowed to talk of approaching starvation. 
 This arrangement could only lead to one of two issues; either the 
 besiegers must destroy the last man in Huajapam, or themselves 
 abandon the siege. 
 
 During more than a hundred days, as already stated, this strange 
 condition of things existed in the town ; and in all that time only 
 one attempt had been made from without to relieve the place. 
 
 This was by the insurgent leaders, Colonel Sanchez and the 
 priest Tapia. The attempt had proved a failure ; but even that did 
 not shake the constancy of Trujanb and his followers. The discour- 
 agement was altogether on the side of the royalists. 
 
 Among the besieged perfect confidence was placed in their lea- 
 der — a truly extraordinary man — one in whom were united the 
 most brilliant qualities, and even those of a kind that are rarely 
 found existing together 
 
 Never did he permit the ardour of his courage to interfere with 
 the prudence of his plans ; and never did he advance them too 
 hastily to maturity. Brave almost to rashness, he nevertheless cal- 
 
VALERIO TRUJANO. 201 
 
 culated minutely the chances of a combat before commencing it. 
 His frank open countenance had something so winning in it, that all 
 freely yielded up their secret thoughts to him, while no one could 
 penetrate his. 
 
 His gentleness towards his soldiers, tempered with a due 
 measure of justice, had the effect of gaining their obedience by love 
 rather than fear. An indefinable charm, in short, emanated from 
 his person, which excluded all idea of disobedience to his will. 
 
 It may here be observed that at this period of the Mexican Revolu- 
 tion (181-2), the Spaniards were in possession of all the resources 
 of administration — the posts, and express couriers, with the princi- 
 pal highways of the country. The insurrectionary forces were in 
 scattered and isolated bodies, either besieged in towns or pur- 
 sued among the sierras. Bearing these facts in mind, it will not be 
 wondered at, that although, while Trujano was besieged in Huaja- 
 pam, and Morelos, was in Cuautla, at the distance of only two or 
 three days' journey, the Mexican general was entirely ignorant of 
 the situation of the ex-muleteer ! Even a month after Morelos had 
 evacuated Cuautla, and retired upon Isucar, the position of his com- 
 patriot still remained unreported to him. Fortunately Trujano had 
 learnt the whereabouts of the general, and had dispatched a mes- 
 senger to him demanding assistance. 
 
 Enclosed as Huajapam was by the enemy — who guarded every 
 approach wUh the strictest vigilance — it seemed impossible that any 
 messenger could make way through their lines. Several days had 
 passed since the man — an Indian — had gone out of the town ; but 
 whether he had succeeded in safely reaching Morelos' camp, or 
 whether he might be able to return with the answer, were questions 
 or prime importance to the plans of Trujano. 
 
 On that same day in which the council of war was held in the 
 Spanish camp, Trujano had ordered a mass to be performed — spe- 
 cially devoted to prayer, for the return of his messenger. It was 
 in the evening, the hour succeeding twilight, that this mass was 
 held; and all the population of the town, including the soldiers, was 
 assembled in the public piazza, which was illuminated by torches of 
 ocbte, although the moon was shining brilliantly above. A church, 
 whose dome was shattered with bombs, and rows of houses in ruins, 
 surrounded the square. The temple in which the offering was made 
 was the piazza itself, and the roof was the starry canopy of the sky. 
 There, under the red glare of the torches, might be seen the assem- 
 bled people of Huajapam; the priests who assisted at the ceremony 
 ta their robes, covering a military garb underneath ; the women, 
 
202 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 children, and aged, grouped around the walls of the houses ; the 
 soldiers, in ragged uniforms, with guns in hand ; and the wounded 
 seated upon doorsteps with bloody bandages — having dragged them- 
 selves thither to take part in the sacred ceremonial. 
 
 Profound silence reigned throughout the Piazza. 
 
 On the appearance of a man who advanced into the centre of the 
 square, his countenance calm, and his eye beaming with religious 
 enthusiasm, every head was uncovered, or bent in obeisance. This 
 man was Trujano. 
 
 Stopping in the midst of the multitude, he made sign that he was 
 about to address them. The silence, if possible, became more pro- 
 found. 
 
 "Children!" he commenced in a sonorous voice, "the scripture 
 saith, ' except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in 
 vain.' Let us pray, then, to the God of battles to watch with us !" 
 
 All bent down at the summons, the speaker kneeling in their 
 midst. 
 
 " This evening," said he, " we celebrate mass for a special purpose. 
 Let us pray for our messenger; let us pray to God to protect him 
 on his journey, and grant him a safe return. Let us sing praises to 
 that God, who has hitherto preserved from evil the Children who 
 nave trusted in Him !" 
 
 The speaker then intoned the verse of the well known psalm — 
 
 " His truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be 
 afraid of tho terror by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day ; 
 nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness ; nor for the de- 
 struction that wasteth at noon day." 
 
 After each verse of the psalm, the people repeated — 
 
 " Lord have compassion upon us ! Lord have mercy upon us !" 
 
 The devout Colonel, as if he expected that God would show him 
 some signal mark of his favour, in more emphatic tone chanted the 
 verse — 
 
 " I will deliver him because he has put his trust in me : I will 
 protect him because he has called upon my name." 
 
 And as if in reality the Divine interpretation had been granted, 
 the messenger at that moment appeared entering the Piazza ! 
 
 The man had seen Morelos, and brought back the glad news that 
 the insurgent general would instantly place his army en route for 
 the relief of Huajapain. 
 
 Trujano, raising his eyes to heaven, cried out — 
 
 " Bless the Lord ! oh, bless the Lord, all ve who are His ser 
 vants !" 
 
A WALKING CORPSE. 203 
 
 He then proceeded to distribute the supper rations — giving them 
 out with his own hands — after which the torches were extinguished, 
 and the beseiged betook themselves to sleep, trusting in Him who 
 never slumbers, aud whose protection was to them as a shield and 
 buckler. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 A WALKING CORPSE. 
 
 "While the mass was being performed in the "Piazza, the Spanish 
 sentries, who guarded the trenches outside, could distinctly hear the 
 voices of those who took part in it ; and could even distinguish the 
 words of the sacred song, which alone broke the silence of the 
 night. 
 
 ' The sentinel whose post was nearest to the intrenchments of the 
 town, had for his companions a number of dead bodies of the enemy, 
 who had fallen during a sortie of the insurgents, and whose corpses 
 their comrades had no opportunity of interring. These, as already 
 mentioned, were all more or less mutilated by their cruel foes, who 
 oftimes revenged themselves on the dead for defeats they had suf- 
 fered from the living. 
 
 The sentry in question walked to and fro upon his prescribed 
 rounds, alternately turning face and back upon the mangled corpses. 
 On each occasion, as he faced round half mechanically he counted 
 them, by way of killing the time, at the same time preserving be- 
 tween them and himself a respectable distance. 
 
 After a short while spent in this melancholy pastime, the sounds 
 accompanying the ceremony of the mass attracted his attention ; and, 
 as a change, he commenced endeavoring to make out the words that 
 were being spoken or chaunted. 
 
 A distant voice exclaimed — 
 
 " A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right 
 hand ; but it shall not come nigh thee." 
 
 " What the devil can it mean 1" soliloo^iised the soldier. " Latin 
 it must be ! Some prayer for these dead rebels, I suppose !" 
 
 While thus alluding to the corpses that lay near, he once more 
 glanced towards them. All at once it appeared to him that their 
 number had increased ! 
 
 "I must have made a mistake, muttered he to himself j I surely 
 
204 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 counted only nine of them a moment ago ; and yet now there are 
 as surely ten — one, two three — yes, ten !" 
 
 He again lent his ears to listen to the chaunting of the psalm — 
 
 "Thou shalt tread upon the lion and the adder; the young lion 
 and the dragon shalt thou trample under foot." 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed the sentry, "they are talking of dragoons — the 
 Queen's dragoons, I suppose V 
 
 On making this remark, he paused suddenly in his steps. He had 
 been timing his paces with that regular tread habitual to sentries, 
 and in such a fashion as to maintain the same distance between him- 
 self and the corpses — which he had no inclination to approach. This 
 time, on turning his face, it appeared to him that he had got much 
 nearer to one of them; and at the next turn nearer still! This in- 
 duced him to count the steps he was taking; and though on each 
 round he made exactly the same number, he could not resist the 
 conviction that he was constantly approximating to the corpse. Ei- 
 ther he must be mistaken, or the dead body must have moved from 
 its place ! The latter was, of course, the more probable supposi- 
 tion ; but, to assure himself, he approached the corpse to examine 
 it. 
 
 The dead man was lying upon his side ; and a blotch of crimson 
 colour conspicuous behind his cheek, marked the place where his ear 
 had been cropped off. 
 
 A brief examination satisfied the sentry that the man was dead. It 
 followed, therefore, that he himself must have been labouring under 
 an illusion as to the distance. He almost gave way to an impulse 
 to thrust his bayonet through the corpse ; but a dead body, seen 
 under the shadows of night, inspires a certain air of imposing so- 
 lemnity, which repels profanation ; and this, acting upon the spirit 
 of the sentinel, hindered him from yielding to the temptation. 
 
 " If it were possible for dead men to get upon their legs and walk, 
 I should say these fellows could do so. I am almost sure I counted 
 only nine at first. Now there are ten ; and devil take me if that 
 fellow, whom i have examined, does not look as if he wished to 
 have a chat with me, for the fun of the thing. Carrambo ! the voi- 
 ces of those rebels in the town are not very gay at the best ; but for 
 all that, they are pleasanter to hear than the silence of these com. 
 pan ions here. There goes the sing-song again !" 
 
 The chaunt continued — 
 
 " Lift your hands through the night, and bless the Lord. His 
 truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid of 
 the terror by ni^ht I" 
 
A WALKING CORPSE. 205 
 
 Although to the ears of the sentry the chaunting of the besieged 
 was merry as a drinking song compared with the melancholy silence 
 of the dead bodies, yet the time seemed long enough to him ; and 
 every now and then he looked towards the camp, in hopes of hear- 
 ing some sound that would indicate the approach of the relief 
 guard. 
 
 " None was heard ; and he continued to walk his round, as before 
 measuring the ground with exact steps. 
 
 The dead body^which was nearest appeared to remain in the same 
 place ; and the mind of the soldier was becoming gradually tran- 
 quillized, when all at once, on turning sharply around, he perceived 
 that this corpse was no longer where he had last seen it. At the 
 same instant his eye caught the shadow of an upright figure gliding 
 rapidly off, in the direction of the town ! 
 
 Terror at the unexpected resurrection hindered him for awhile 
 from making any movement ; and when this had passed, and he was 
 able to reflect more calmly, he comprehended all. He had simply 
 been duped by an Indian ruse ; which explained the mysterious ad- 
 dition to the number of his corpses, and the lessened distance be- 
 tween himself and that which had been lying nearest. 
 
 It was now too late to arrest the progress of the Indian by firing 
 after him ; and, as the giving an alarm would only be to disclose 
 his own negligence, the sentry prudently maintained silence, and 
 permitted the man to continue his course. 
 
 To account for the absence of ears, which had led the soldier to 
 mistake the Indian for a corpse, it is necessary to mention an 
 episode of the insurrectionary war, which had happened some weeks 
 before. The scene of the episode was the village of Yanguitlan, 
 where the cruel Spanish general, Regules, having captured a number 
 of Indian insurgents, had caused the ears of a score of them to be 
 cropped off, so close to their heads, that many of them died of the 
 haemorrhage which followed. The others succeeded in making their 
 way to Huajapam ; and the Indian, who had so cleverly duped the 
 Spanish sentry — and who was no other than the messenger whose 
 return was at that moment being prayed for within the town — was 
 one of the survivors of the horrible outrage. 
 
 It was to this affair that Caldelas had derisively alluded during 
 the sitting of the war council. 
 
 " Mil Raijos /" hissed out the sentry, in a frenzy of rage and 
 chagrin ; " Demonios /" there may be more of these fellows alive ! 
 I shall take care that no other gets to his feet, and runs off like the 
 one who has so clever] v tricked mo. Now, then !" 
 
206 THE TIOER-HUNTER. 
 
 Saying these words the sentry turned his fusil in his hands ; and, 
 rushing towards the corpses, did not leave off thrusting till he had 
 passed his bayonet two or three times through each of them. 
 
 Not one of the bodies showed the slightest signs of life ; and the 
 only sounds that troubled the tranquillity of the scene, were the 
 angry breathings of the soldier, as he performed his ghastly work, 
 and the chaunting of the besieged that still swelled in melancholy 
 intonation upon the night air. 
 
 " Chaunt away, you cowardly devils !" cried the mortified 
 soldier ; " chaunt away ! You have reason, if it were only to mock 
 me for keeping such careful guard over you. Chingarito /" 
 
 And the Spaniard, as he uttered this emphatic shibboleth, 
 gnashed his teeth with vexation. 
 
 Shortly after, the voices within the Piazza became hushed. As 
 we have stated, the messenger had arrived, and delivered his wel- 
 come tidings to the insurgent leader. 
 
CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 DECOY SENTKY. 
 
 On the same evening while the besieged were celebrating mass in 
 the Piazza of Huajapam, other scenes were occurring not many 
 leagues distant. Behind the chain of hills which bounded the plain 
 of Huajapam, and in the rear of the Royalist encampment, a third 
 army had suddenly made its appearance — though still invisible to 
 the Spanish sentries. Morelos, true to his promise, with a thousand 
 soldiers under his command, was hastening forward to the relief of 
 Trujano. These were all the regular troops at his disposal ; as he 
 had been compelled to leave a strong garrison in the town of 
 Chapali, which he had also recently taken from the Royalists. 
 
 Besides his regulars, however, he was accompanied by a large 
 force of Indians, armed with bows and slings. 
 
 At a short distance behind the General-in-chief, the Marshal 
 Galeana and Captain Don Cornelio Lantejas were riding side by 
 side. 
 
 Notwithstanding the distinguished position which he held in the 
 insurgent army, the ci-devant student of theology seemed ill at ease. 
 Some secret grief was troubling his spirit. 
 
 "The General is quite right in refusing you leave of absence," 
 said Galeana. " A brave and experienced officer like you cannot 
 be well spared ; and your persistance in asking for leave has greatly 
 offended him. I can assure you. As for that, my dear Lantejas, 
 leave it to me. I am much mistaken if I don't soon find you an 
 opportunity of achieving some bold $eed, which will be certain to 
 reinstate you in the General';; favour. You will only have to slay 
 
208 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 three or four Spanish soldiers, or a Royalist officer of high rank, 
 and that will set you all straight with Morelos." 
 
 " 1 should prefer slaying the officer, J think," answered Lantejas, 
 scarce knowing what to say in reply. 
 
 To him, who had hitherto been only a hero by simple accident, 
 the idea of premeditating any act that would distinguish him, only 
 brought a fresh shadow upon the horizon of his future ; and he 
 would gladly have resigned the honours he had already gained for 
 leave to escape being the candidate for new ones. 
 
 As soon as Morelos' army had halted for the night, the General 
 and Galeana commenced deliberating on some plan by which they 
 might give the enemy a decisive blow. The strategy which appeared 
 most to recommend itself was to get the Royalist army between 
 two fires; that is, while the troops of Morelos himself assaulted the 
 Spanish camp in the rear, those of Trujano should make a sortie from 
 the town, and attack the enemy on his front. 
 
 To the carrying out of this design the chief obstacle that present- 
 ed itself was the difficulty of communicating with the beseiged. I he 
 messenger of Trujano had left the camp of Morelos before the idea 
 of «uch an attack had been conceived. Was there any one in the 
 insurgent army who could pass the Royalist lines, and carry a mes- 
 sage into the town? That became the question, which, as it so hap- 
 pened, Don Cornelio Lantejas was able to answer in the affirma- 
 tive. 
 
 The Captain was in command of the Indians, one of whom had 
 informed him that he knew a secret way by which the town could 
 be entered. The patriotic Indian at the same time declared his wil- 
 lingness to carry a message to Colonel Trujano. 
 
 On communicating this information to the General, Lantejas had 
 mo thought of the honourable commission it would be the means of 
 obtaining for himself. Perhaps, had he suspected what was in store 
 for him, he would have withheld it. He did not do so, however ; 
 and, on disclosing the fact to Morelos, the General at once ordered 
 him to accompany the Indian, taking along with him some h ilf-dozen 
 of his trustiest men. 
 
 An honour thus offered by the Commander-in-chief of an army 
 cannot, without difficulty, be declined; and Don Cornelio was con- 
 strained to accept it. 
 
 Choosing for his companions Costal and Clara, with some half-a- 
 dozen others, and, preceded by the Indian guide, he set forth towards 
 the town. 
 
 After two hours spent in climbing the hill?, they came within sight 
 
A DZCOY SEXTRY. 209 
 
 of the bUouac fires of the Spanish camp — towards which they pro- 
 ceeded without making stop, until they had arrived near the line of 
 pickets. Here the guide halted the party, concealing them behind a 
 ruined wall. 
 
 From this point a road, deeply sunk below the surface of the plain, 
 ran past the place w here one of the Spanish pickets held post. It 
 was the same post where, but a short while before, the earless Indi- 
 an had succeeded in deceiving the sentry. The one now on post 
 was not the same. The guard had been meanwhile relieved and 
 another sentry had taken the place; who, by the uneasy glances 
 which, from time to time, he kept casting around him, was evidently 
 under the belief that his position was a dangerous one. 
 
 Many causes combined to render the new sentinel sufficiently un- 
 comfortable. The night was disagreeably cold ; the companionship 
 of the corpses, whose mutilated state presented death before his eyes 
 in its most hideous aspect ; their odour horribly infecting the air ; 
 all these causes, coming together, could not fail to inspire the soldier 
 with a secret fear. 
 
 To chase away his unpleasant reflections — as well as to keep his 
 blood warm against the chill breeze — he walked to and fro in double 
 quick timj. The only momenta when he remained motionless 
 were at those intervals when it was necessary for him to pause and 
 call out the usual phrase : " Alerta, centinela /" 
 
 " I am sorry for the poor devil !" said Costal, " we must send him 
 to keep guard in the next world." 
 
 The wall behind which they had halted, although tumbled 
 down and in ruins, still rose sufficiently high to screen the party 
 from the eyes of the sentinel. Moreover, between the latter and the 
 ruin, the ground was thickly studded with aloe plants and bushes of 
 wild wormwood. 
 
 " Let us first get rid of the sentry," said Costal ; " that accom- 
 plished, scatter yourselves among the bushes, and leave the rest to 
 me." 
 
 On giving this counsel, the Zapoteque borrowed a sling from one 
 of the Indians, in which he placed a stone carefully chosen. Then 
 ordering two others to make ready their bows, he continued, adress- 
 ing himself to Don Cornelio — 
 
 "You, Seror Captain, can give the signal. Take two stones — 
 strike them together so that the fellow may hear you — strike them 
 twice. And you," continued he, turning to the bowmen, " on 
 hearing the second stroke, take good aim, and let fly your an 
 rows." 
 
210 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Costal stood holding the sling in readiness. It was one of thosa 
 rare occasions when the bow and the sling serve better than any 
 kind of firearm. 
 
 Lantejas brought the two stones into a collision with a loud 
 crack. 
 
 The sentry heard the concussion, suddenly halted in his steps, 
 brought his piece to the " ready," and stood listening. 
 
 The Captain gave the second signal. The stone and arrows hissed 
 simultaneously through the air, and, struck by all three, the soldier 
 fell dead without even uttering a cry. 
 
 " Go ! scatter yourselves among the bushes," cried Costal, hur 
 riedly ; " the rest I can manage better without you." 
 
 Don Cornelio and the Indians, m obedience to Costal's injunction, 
 glided from behind the wall, and crept forward among the aloes. 
 
 As they were advancing, directly in front of them, there arose 
 the cry, " alerta, ceiithiela /" It came from the place where thesen« 
 try had just fallen ; and Don Cornelio, on looking in that direc. 
 tion, perceived, to his horror and surprise, that the man was once 
 more upon his feet, and walking his rounds as if nothing had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 Lantejas turned to demand an explanation from Costal, but the 
 latter was nowhere to be seen. The Captain then faced towards the 
 other Indians ; but these, instead of concealing themselves any lon- 
 ger behind the bushes, had risen erect, and were running past the 
 sentinel, who seemed to take no notice of them ! 
 
 A ray of light broke in upon the mind of the innocent Lante- 
 jas. 
 
 " Santissima /" cried he, " the sentinel — it must be Costal him, 
 self." 
 
 And so it was. The living had replaced the dead ; and so aptly 
 did Costal imitate the voice and movements of the soldier who had 
 fallen, that the other sentries along the line had not the slightest 
 suspicion of the change that had taken place. 
 
 On comprehending the situation of affairs, Don Cornelio sprang 
 to his feet; and, passing the decoy sentinel, ran on at full speed 
 towards the walls of the town — where his Indians had already pre- 
 ceeded him. 
 
 Seeing his captain clear through the lines, Costal flung away the 
 shako and musket of the soldier, and hastened after. 
 
 Soon overtaking Don Cornelio, he cried out, " Quicker, run 
 quicker, Senor Captain ! The others will g 5 ve the alarm as soon a» 
 they have missed their comrade !" 
 
JL DECOY SENTRY. 2J1 
 
 As he spoke, he caught Don Cornelio by the wrist and dragged 
 him along at such a rate that the Captain was scarce able to keep 
 upon his feet. 
 
 In a few seconds they reached the line of the Mexican sentries, 
 who, already warned of their approach by the Indians, permitted 
 them to enter the town without opposition. On entering the Piazza 
 they encountered Trujano himself; who, with his sword girded on, 
 was making a round of the village before retiring to rest. 
 
 While Don Cornelio was delivering to him the message of Morelos, 
 the Colonel directed scrutinising glances both upon the Captain and his 
 Indian companion. He had some vague recollection of having once 
 before seen the two men, but he could not remember where. At 
 the moment that Don Cornelio finished speaking, his recollection 
 had become more clear upon the point. 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed he, "I was thinking where I had met you. 
 Are you not the young student who had such confidence in the man- 
 date of the Bishop of Oajaca, and who, at the hacienda of Las Pal- 
 mas, denounced the insurrection as a deadly crime'?" 
 
 " The same," answered Lantejas, with a sigh. 
 
 " And you," continued Trujano, addressing himself to Costal, " are 
 you not the tiger-hunter of Don Mariano de Silva ?" 
 
 " The descendant of the caciques of Tehuantepec," answered Cos- 
 tal proudly. 
 
 " God is great, and his ways are inscrutable," rejoined the ex- 
 muleteer, with the inspired air of a prophet of Judah. 
 
 After, having more substantially repeated his message, Don Cor- 
 nelio was conducted by the Colonel to his quarters, and shown the 
 apartment in which he was to sleep. 
 
 It only remained for him to seek the few hours' rest that would 
 intervene before daybreak — the hour fixed for the decisive battle 
 which was to take place. Wrapped in his cloak, he flung himself 
 upon the. wooden bench that served for a bed — vowing to himself as 
 he fell asleep to attempt no heroic deeds on the following day, be- 
 yond those which were rigorously necessary for the defence of his 
 own person. 
 
. CHAPTER XLVI1. 
 
 THE MORN OF THE BATTLE. 
 
 Not until several hours after the arrival of Don Cornelio did the 
 insurgent Colonel warn his troops of the coming event. Then they 
 were instructed to be ready at the first dawn of day, for a sortie 
 against the Royalist camp — which at the same instant of time was 
 to be attacked by Morelos on the opposite side. 
 
 While the shadows of night were still hanging above the belea- 
 guered town a singular noise was heard proceeding from the Piazza. 
 It resembled the creaking of a watchman's rattle, or rather half-a- 
 dozen of these instruments that had been sprung together. Such 
 in reality it was : for since the church bells had been converted into 
 cannon the rattles of the serenos had been substituted as a means by 
 which to summon the inhabitants to prayers ! 
 
 According to the monastic regulation, which Trujano had impo- 
 sed upon the besieged, they were each day called together to 
 oration. On this morning, however, their reunion was earlier than 
 usual : since it had for its object not only the ordinary prayers, but 
 preparation for the combat that was to decide the issue of a long 
 and irksome siege. 
 
 At the same hour the Royalist camp was aroused by the beating 
 of drums and bugles sounding the reveille ; while behind the chain 
 of hills that bounded the plain Morelos was silently setting his ar- 
 my in motion. 
 
 In a few minutes the Piazza of Huajapam was filled with citizens 
 and soldiers, all armed for the fight. They stood in silent groups, 
 awaiting the prayer that would endue them with the necessary ener- 
 gy and enthusiasm. The horsemen were dismounted — each man 
 standing by the head of his horse, and in the order in which they 
 were accustomed to range themselves. 
 
 Trujano appeared in his turn, his countenance solemn, yet smiling. 
 
THE MORN OF THE BATTLE. 213 
 
 with confidence in his heart as upon his lips. He was armed, ac- 
 cording to liis custom, with a long two-edged sword, which he had 
 oft times wielded with terrible effect. By his side marched Captain 
 Lantejas, who for the time was acting as an a 'de-de-camp. Behind 
 them came a soldier, holding in hand two horses fully equipped for 
 the fiel I. One of these was the war horse of Trujano himself; the 
 other was intended for the aide-de-camp. Over the withers of the 
 animal destined for the ex-student of theology rose a long lance, 
 strapped to the stirrup and the pummel of the saddle. 
 
 Dun Cornelio would have had a difficulty iu declaring why he 
 had armed himself in this fashion. In reality, the lance was not a 
 weapon of his own choosing since he had never had any practice in 
 the handling of one; but the horse had been brought to him thus 
 equipped, and he passively accepted the lance, for the same reason 
 that he was allowing himself to be led into the fight — because he 
 could not help it. 
 
 The matin prayers were not extended to any great length of time. 
 The dawn was already commencing to show itself in the east ; and 
 it would not be a great while before the sun would cast his gold- 
 en bearing over the plains of Huajapam. 
 
 The religious insurgent was deeply versed in Scripture. Many 
 portions of the Bible were so familiar to him, that he could correct- 
 ly repeat them without referring to the sacred book. In a voice, 
 every tone of which was heard to the most distant corner of the 
 Piazza, he repeated the following verses — the meaning of which 
 was rendered more solemn by the circumstances under which they 
 were recited : — 
 
 " The people who walk in darkness have seen a great light. The 
 dawn is come to those who dwell in the region of the shadow of 
 death." 
 
 " Lord, thou hast blessad thy land ; thou hast delivered Jacob 
 from captivity. Glory to the most high." 
 
 A thousand voices repeated, " Glory to the most high !" 
 
 By little and little the eastern horizon exhibited a brighter dawn ; 
 and the clouds that floated over the heads of those people so pious- 
 ly bent, becoming tinged with purple, announced the rising of the 
 sun. 
 
 It will be remembered that, at the council of war, the Spanish 
 general had decided not to make his attack till after the hour of 
 noon. No preparations, therefore, had as yet been made in the 
 Royalist camp. 
 
214 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 As Bonavia was still ignorant both of the proximity of Morelos 
 and Trujano'a intention to make a sortie, the double attack was 
 likely to fall upon the Spanish camp with the suddenness of a 
 thun lerbolt. 
 
 The Spanish army was divided into three brigades, that might 
 almost be said to occupy three separate encampments. The first, 
 commanded by Regules, held position nearest to the walls of the 
 town. The second, under the immediate orders of Bonavia himself, 
 occupied the centre ; while the third, in command of Caldelas, 
 formed the rear-guard. 
 
 According to this disposition, Trujano, in sallying from the town, 
 would come immediately into collision with the brigade of Regules ; 
 while Morelos, approaching from the mountains, would direct his 
 attack against that of Caldelas. In this case, Bonavia, from the 
 centre, could march to the assistance of whichever of his two brig 
 adiers should stand most in need of it. 
 
 The Colonel Tres-Villeswas second in command in the brigade of 
 Caldelas, and his tent was of course in the rear. 
 
 During the night he had sJept but little. 
 
 Sometimes during a storm the thick mantle of clouds which 
 covers the sky breaks suddenly apart, disclosing an almost imper. 
 ceptible portion of the azure canopy. Only for a moment the blue 
 spot is visible, after which the dull vapoury mass closes over it, and 
 again hides it from view. 
 
 Such was the ray of hope that had lately shone into the heart of 
 Don Rafael. His habitual melancholy had assumed the ascendant, 
 and the cloud had returned. 
 
 The man who passionately loves, and he who scarce loves at all, 
 are equally unable to tell when their love is reciprocated. His 
 violent passion blinds the judgment of the one ; while indifference 
 renders the other inattentive. Neither is capable of perceiving the 
 tokens of love which he may have inspired, and which pass unno- 
 ticed before his eyes. 
 
 In the former situation was Don Rafael. Despite the proofs 
 which Gertrudis had given him, his thought was, not that he was no 
 longer loved, but that he had never been loved at all! He, who had 
 almost sacrificed his love to his pride, could not perceive, that the 
 pride of a woman may also have its days of revolt against her 
 heart. Hence arose the profound discouragement which had taken 
 possession of him, and extinguished the ray of hope that had gleam- 
 ed for a moment in his breast. 
 
THE MORN OF THE BATTLE. 215 
 
 Wearied with tossing upon a sleepless couch, he ruse at the first 
 call of the reveille bugle; and ordering his horse to be saddled, he 
 rode forth from the camp, in hopes that a ride would afford some 
 distraction to his thoughts. 
 
 The aspect of the desolated fields — from which every vestige of a 
 crop had disappeared — reminded him of his own ruined hopes: like 
 the bud of a flower plucked from its stem, before it had time to 
 blossom. 
 
 Occupied with such reflections, he had ridden nearly a league be- 
 yond the lines of the camp, without taking note of the distance. In 
 the midst of the deep silence which reigned around him, he all at 
 onoe lioard a noise — at first low, but gradually becoming louder. 
 Thi4 instantly roused him from his reverie — causing him to draw 
 bridle and listen. 
 
 During the different campaigns he had made, Don Rafael had 
 learnt to distinguish all the sounds which indicate the march of a 
 corps (farmee. The cadenced hoof-stroke, the distant rumbling of 
 gun-carriages and caissons, the neighing of horses, and the clanking 
 of stoel sabres were all familiar to his ear — and proclaimed to him 
 the movement of troops, as plainly as if they were passing before 
 his eyes. 
 
 lie had no doubt that what he now heard was the approach of a 
 body of the insurgents, advancing to the relief of the town. The 
 alarm given by the sentinels upon the preceding night — the death 
 of one of the number — the vivas and other strange exclamations of 
 the beseiged, within the town — left him no room to question the 
 correctness of lis conjecture. 
 
 Sure of the fact — and not wishing to lose a moment by listening 
 longer — he wheeled around ; and, putting spurs to his horse, galloped 
 back to the camp where, on his arrival, he at once gave the alarm. 
 
216 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 BETWEEN TWO FIRES. 
 
 After the first moment of confusion had passed, the Royalists 
 commenced preparing to receive the attack, with that coolness 
 which springs from practised discipline. In a short while every one 
 was at his post. 
 
 The sun was just appearing above the horizon, disclosing to each 
 army the view of its antagonist. The advanced sentinels along the 
 lines had already retired from fcl eir posts, and were hurrying to- 
 wards the camp. In the town could he heard the voices of the be- 
 seiged, in solemn chorus chaunting the psalm " Venite exultemus 
 Domine" while shouts of " Viva Morelos /" came from the. opposite 
 direction, and loud above all could be heard the noted war-cry of 
 the Marshal, "Aqui esta Galeana/" 
 
 Almost at the same instant a double fusilade opened its formida- 
 ble dialogue from the two separate wings of the Spanish army. 
 Trujano and Morelos replied to it; one attacking in front, and the 
 other upon the rear. The hour of retaliation had come : the besieger* 
 were now besieged in their turn. 
 
 Meanwhile Morelos, having given orders to Galeana to direct the 
 movement, had posted himself upon a little hill ; where, telescope 
 in hand, he stood watching the progress of the action. 
 
 After having coolly arranged his plan of attack, Trujano impetu- 
 ously launched himself upon the camp of Regules, at the same in- 
 stant that Galeana was advancing upon that of Caldelas. 
 
 On both sides the firing was of short duration. Neith2r the 
 Marshal nor Trujano were the men to remain long at a distance from 
 their enemy ; and both charging impetuously forward, brought their 
 men hand to hand with the Royalists. 
 
 Although inferior in numbers to their enemies, the guerilleros of 
 Trujano made such a desperate attack upon the soldiers of Regules, 
 that the latter, unable to sustain flip shock, were thrown for a mo- 
 ment into confusion. Their General, however, succeeded in rallying 
 
BETWEEN TWO FIRES. '217 
 
 them ; and Trujano, with his handful of men, was held for a time in 
 check. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bonavia and Caldelas, having united their forces, 
 were using all their efforts to resist the desperate charges made by 
 Galeana ; who notwithstanding the impetuosity of las attack found 
 himself unable to break through their line and form a junction with 
 Trujano. 
 
 There are men in whose company it is impossible not to feel 
 brave — or at least have the appearance of it — especially when fight- 
 ing by their side. Trujano was one of this character. His ardent 
 valour was contagious ; and alongside of him, Lantejas had no diffi- 
 culty in sustaining his reputation for courage. 
 
 Nevertheless, the battle seemed to the Captain to be hanging a 
 long time undecided ; and he was growing fearfully troubled that 
 the day would go against them, when Trujano, wiping the perspi- 
 ration from his forehead, cried out to him — 
 
 " Captain Lantejas! 1 fear we shall never be able to break their 
 lire with such a handful of men. Put spurs to your horse, and 
 gallop round till you find General Morelos. Ask him to reinforce 
 me with two or three battalions. Say that I have great need of 
 them, and that the success of the day depends upon it. Ride quick- 
 ly ; and I shall endeavour to sustain the attack till your return. 
 Vaya ! Ccrpitan /" 
 
 The aid-de-camp, on receiving the order, went off at a gallop, 
 lance in hand. 
 
 At the same instant an officer rode forth from the camp of Regu- 
 les, on a similar mission to the Commander-in-chief of the Spanish 
 army. The latter, however, succeeded in executing his commission 
 more promptly than Don Cornelio ; and Bonavia hastened, notwith- 
 standing the protest of Caldelas, to send to Regules the reinforce- 
 ment he had demanded. 
 
 " That man will be our ruin," said Caldelas to Tres-Villas, as the 
 battalions were drawn from his brigade. 
 
 Don Rafael, mounted upon his favorite steed, El Roncador, was 
 at this time making every effort to reach the Marshal, whose defiant 
 war-cry, so often pealing in their ears, was beginning to create ter- 
 ror among the ranks of the royalists. 
 
 " Mil demonios /" exclaimed Caldelas, " if Regules prove the 
 cause of our defeat, I shall blow out his brains, and afterwards my 
 own !" 
 
 As the brigadier pronounced this throat, his soldiers, pressed by 
 a violent movement in front, commenced to give ground ; and that 
 
21$ TUi£ TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 which he had foreseen was likely to be realised His brigade 
 weakened by the battalions sent as a reinforcement to Regules, was 
 unable to' withstand the desperate charges of Galeana ; and in y 
 minute or two after, his troops broke line, fell back, and then scat- 
 tered in full retreat. 
 
 Blinded by rage, Caldelas turned his horse, leaving to Dor 
 Rafael the duty of collecting the dispersed soldiers, and, furiously 
 plying the spur, he galloped off towards the ground where Regules 
 was still contesting the issue with Trujano. 
 
 Meanwhile Don Cornelio was going at full sped on his message 
 to Morelos. He was not proceeding in a very direct line, however. 
 Not desiring to get again embroiled in the battle, he had resolved 
 on making a wide circuit round a vast field of maize, that extend- 
 ed along the edge of the plain, and slightly elevated above it. 
 Every now and then he endeavoured to discover whether he was op- 
 posite the position held by Morelos ; but in this he was unsuccess- 
 ful; for the blades of the maize plants rising above his head 
 hindered him from having a view over the plain. He at length 
 reached a cross-road ; and, deeming that he had ridden far enough 
 to put him beyond the ground occupied by the Royalist forces, he 
 turned his horse along the road, still going at a gallop. 
 
 The combatants were hidden from his view 1 y a thicket of low 
 bushes that skirted the side of the road. This, however, at length ter- 
 minated abruptly ; and Don Cornelio, ii ling into t'.e open ground. 
 all at once found himself in the presence of a large body of Spanish 
 soldiers, who appeare.1 in front of him forming a semicircle of swords, 
 bayonets, and lances. 
 
 Terrified at the excess of his involuntary boldness, he turned his 
 horse upon the instant, and plunged back into the cross-road; but 
 he had scarce made three lengths of his horse in the back direction, 
 when he saw riding towards him a Spanish officer, who, pistol in 
 hand, and with a countenance red with rage, was uttering the 
 most emphatic threats and protestations. In an other instant they 
 must meet face to face. 
 
 The advancing horseman had his eyes fixed upon the field of bat- 
 tle ; and, although he did not appear to be aware of the approach 
 of Don Cornelio, the latter had no other belief than that he himself 
 was the object of the blasphemous menaces. If the Spaniard was 
 not expressly searching after him to kill him, why should he thus 
 cut off his retreat by the cross-road — the only direction that offered 
 him a chance of escape 1 
 
 Believing that the horseman was advancing to assail him, and sua. 
 
BETWEEN TWO FIRES. 219 
 
 denly nerved by despair, the Captain, on his side, charged forward ; 
 and delivering a vigorous thrust with the lance he pierced his unsus- 
 pecting antaguist through the body, striking him lifeless oat of hu 
 saddle ! 
 
 A cry of gnef reached the ears of the ex-student, coming from 
 another part ol the (ield ; but not staying to see who had uttered 
 it, he again spurred his steed along the cross-road — determined 
 this time to make a detour sufficiently wide before heading towards 
 the position of Morelos. 
 
 He had not gone far, however, when he heard a loud voice hailing 
 him from behind ; while the hoarse snorting of a horse was mingled 
 with the cries — a snorting that resembled the roaring of a jaguar, 
 and for that reason awakened within him the most terrible souve 
 nirs. 
 
 " It is surely the horse of the Apocalypse?" muttered the ex-stu- 
 dent of theology, while using every effort to maintain the distance 
 that lay between himself and this mysterious pursuer. 
 
 In order to gallop more freely, he had flung away the lance, and 
 was now plying the spurs with all the energy of a racing jockey; 
 but still the singular snorting appeared to grow louder, and the 
 pursuer was evidently gaining upon him. 
 
 To say the least, the situation of Captain Lantejas was becoming 
 critical — to judge by the fierce zeal exhibited by his pursuer. Per- 
 haps in all his life the ex-student had never been in a position of 
 greater peril than at that moment. 
 
 Just as he was about reaching the crossing of the roads, he heard 
 close behind him the breathing of the man who was in pursuit of 
 him ; and, glancing over his shoulder, he saw the head of the 
 animal he had termed the horse of the Apocalypse — almost on a 
 level with the croup of his saddle. 
 
 In another moment, a vigorous hand seized him by the collar, 
 that lifting him out of his stirrups, dragged him backward, till he 
 felt that he was lying across the pummel of his adversary's saddle. 
 
 Don Cornelio now saw a poignard raised to strike, which flashed 
 before his sight like the sword of an archangel. He closed his 
 eyes, believing his last hour had come ; when all at once the arm 
 fell, and a voice cried out — 
 
 " Toma ! Why it is Don Cornelio Lantejas !" 
 
 The ex-student reopened his eyes ; and, looking up, recognised 
 the young officer in whose company he had journeyed, on his way 
 to San Salvador, whom he had afterwards met at the hacienda La? 
 Palmas. 
 
220 THE TIGER-nLNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 A SPLENDID STROKE. 
 
 Surrounded by his staff, Morel os st ill eont nued to watch tho 
 progress of events. From the commanding position which he held, 
 almost every incident of the battle could be observed. Even those 
 occurring ax the most distant point of the field were observable 
 through the medium of the telescope. Among other objects that 
 had attracted his notice was a horseman going at full gallop along 
 the cross-road, which led from the field of maize to the Royalist en- 
 campment. 
 
 " Ha!" exclaimed he to an officer of his staff; " if I'm not mis- 
 taken, it is our Captain Lantejas who is galloping down yonder. 
 Where can he be going 1 No doubt he is about to strike one of 
 those improvised, decisive blows in which he excels — as when at 
 Cuautla, he dashed his horse full tilt against the. gigantic Spanish 
 cuirassier, and received the sabre stroke that might else have fallen 
 upon my own skull. Fortunately his sword turned in the hand of 
 the Spaniard, and Don Cornelio was struck bv the flat side of the 
 blade, which only knocked him out of his saddle, without doing him 
 any great injury." 
 
 " Senor General," remarked the officer, with some show of hesi- 
 tation ; " there are evil-disposed persons, who pretend to say that 
 —that " 
 
 " What do they pretend to say V demanded Morelos. 
 
 " Why, that on the occasion of which your Excellency speaks, 
 the horse of Senor Lantejas was running away with him." 
 
 " An odious calumny !" pronounced Morelos, in a severe tone. 
 " Envy is always the proof of merit." 
 
 At this moment, Don Cornelio disappeared from, off t'..e cross. 
 
A SPLENDID STROKE. 2*21 
 
 road ; and Morelos now saw coming in the same direction a 
 Spanish officer also going at a gallop. 
 
 " Santissima /" cried Morelos, recognizing the latter through his 
 glass. " As I live, it is the brave Caldelas, who also appears to have 
 been seized with vertigo ! What can all this galloping mean T* 
 
 It was in reality Caldelas, who, pistol in hand, was searching for 
 Regules, to accomplish the threat he had made. 
 
 Just then Don Cornelio again appeared in the cross-road ; but 
 this time going in the opposite direction, as if charging forward to 
 meet Caldelas. 
 
 " See !" cried Morelos, to his staff. " Look yonder — an encoun- 
 ter between Caldelas and the Captain ! Ha ! what was I saying to 
 you 1 Viva Dios ! — did you ever see such a beautiful coup de lance ? 
 lie has struck down the most formidable of our enemies. Huzza! 
 Victory is ours! The Spaniards are scattering! They yield the 
 ground, and all because their bravest leader has been slain. Now, 
 sir!" continued the General, turning to the officer, who had doubted 
 the courage of Don Cornelio ;" will that silence the detractors of Se- 
 nor Lantejas ? To whom, if not to him, are we indebted for this 
 splendid victory ? Presently you will see him ride with his ac- 
 customed modesty, to say that he has simply done his duty. Other- 
 wise, should he present himself to be complimented, he shall find 
 his mistake : I must reprimand him for being too rash." 
 
 " Happy is he whom your Excellency is pleased to reprimand in 
 such fashion," said the officer, withdrawing to one side. 
 
 " Let us onward !" exclaimed Morelos. " The action is over — 
 the siege is raised, and our enemies are in full retreat. To Yanguit- 
 lan, and then — to take up our winter quarters in the capital of Oa- 
 jaca !" 
 
 On pronouncing these words, Morelos remounted his horse and 
 rode off. followed bv his officers. 
 
 We return to Colonel Tres-Villas and the ex-student of theology. 
 
 Notwithstanding the violent wrath of Don Rafael against the man 
 who had killed his bravo comrade, Caldelas, there was something so 
 ludicrously comic in the countenance of the ex-student — so much 
 innocent simplicity in its expression — that the resentment of Don 
 Rafael vanished upon the instant. Then, quick as a flash of light- 
 ning, came over him the remembrance of that day — at the same 
 time terrible and delightful — when parting from the student of the- 
 
222 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 oiogy, he had hurried forward to see Gertrudis, and receive from her 
 the avowal of her love — alasl too soon forgotten ! 
 
 These souvenirs — but more especially that recalling the daughter 
 of Don Mariano — formed the ajgis of the ex-student. A bitter 
 smile curled upon the lip of Don Rafael, as he looked upon the pale 
 and feeble youth within his grasp. " If such a man," thought he, 
 " has been able to give his death blow to the valiant Caldelas — 
 whose very glance he could scarce have borne— it must be that the 
 hours of the viceroyalty are numbered." 
 
 "You may thank your stars," he continued, addressing himself to 
 Lantejas, " for having fallen into the hands of one, who is hindered 
 by old memories from revenging upon you the death of the valiant 
 Caldelas, the bravest of the Spanish chiefs. 
 
 " Ah ! is the brave Caldelas dead ?" inquired Don Cornelio, scarce 
 sensible of what he was saying. " Is it possible ? But it must be 
 so, if you say it. In any case, I pardon him, and you too." 
 
 "Very gracious of you," rejoined Don Rafael, with a sarcastic 
 smile. 
 
 "More than you think," replied the ex-student, a little restored to 
 his senses at finding his exploit was to be forgiven. " You have no 
 ilea of the terrible fright that he and you caused me just now. But, 
 Senor Don Rafael — with your permission — I am in a very uncom- 
 fortable position for conversing " 
 
 " Perhaps you will pardon mp again for setting you safe and sound 
 upon your feet V said Don Rafael, permitting the captain to slide 
 gently to the ground. "Adieu, then, Captain !" continued he, about 
 to ride away. "I leave you, regretting that l have not time to in- 
 quire how is it that the peace loving student, so terribly frightened 
 at the mandate of the Bishop of Oajaca against the insurrection ha- 
 b.'.eome transformed into an officer of the insurgent army?" 
 
 " And I," replied Lantejas," I should like to know how it is that 
 a captain in the Queen's Dragoons, who did not appear to view that 
 same mandate with a favourable eye, is to-day one of the bitterest 
 a lversaries of the insurrection ? If it pleases you, Senor Don Ra- 
 f lei, to sit down here beside me, and let us discourse a bit — like 
 the old Paladins, who often interrupted their deadliest combats for- 
 sueh a purpose — it would be much more agreable to me than re- 
 turning to the battle-field." 
 
 A sombre shadow passed over the countenance of Don Rafael at 
 the allusion made to the change of his opinions. Both officers 
 presented a striking example of how little man can do to direct his 
 
A SPLENDID STROKE. !h>3 
 
 own destiny, and how much hois the sport of qircumtances. Both 
 were, in fact, serving the cause, opposed to that of their heart's 
 choice. 
 
 Just then a series of loud huzzas and vivas of triumph came from 
 both sides of the battle-field ; but it was impossible for either of them 
 to tell upon which side the victory had declared itself. 
 
 " Ah ! Senor Don Rafael," cried the ex-student," if our side has 
 succumbed, then I am your prisoner." 
 
 " And if you are victorious, I am not yours," responded the Colo- 
 nel, casting towards Lantejas a glance of contempt that he could not 
 conceal — while at the same time he gathered up the reins of his 
 bridle. 
 
 As he did so, at both extremities of the road appeared a number 
 of mounted men, whose half-military equipments proclaimed them 
 to be insurgents. One was heard to call out — 
 
 " Senor Colonel ! Yonder he is — Don Cornelio still living and 
 well !" 
 
 It was Costal who spoke. 
 
 It another moment both the Captain and Don Rafael were sur 
 rounded by the horsemen. 
 
2*24 THE TIGEIt-IIl'XTKR. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 A GENEROUS ENEMY. 
 
 The situation of Don Rafael had now become as critical as was 
 that of Lantejas but the moment before. His pistols had been dis- 
 charged ; his sabre, broken in the battle, he had flung from him ; 
 and the only arm of which he could now avail himself was the dag- 
 ger so near being sheathed in the heart of Don Cornelio. 
 
 During the Mexican revolutionary war hut few prisoners were. 
 taken by the Royalists ; and the cruelties exercised upon those that 
 were, naturally led to retaliation. On both sides it was a war ul 
 extermination. The lives of captives were rarely spared, even after 
 they had voluntarily surrendered. 
 
 Don Rafael, therefore, had made up his mind to sell his life a* 
 dearly as he could, rather than fall into the hands of his enemies, 
 when one of them, an officer, addressing Lantejas, called out, in a 
 voice which the latter recognised. 
 
 "Ah! Captain Lantejas ! haste and come this way. The Gen- 
 eral wishes to thank your for the victory which you have given us." 
 
 Don Rafael also recognised the officer, who was advancing at a 
 gallop; and brave though Tres-Villas was, it was not without satis- 
 faction that the enemy he saw coming towards him was Colonel 
 Trujano, the ex-muleteer. 
 
 Trujano, on his side, at the same instant recognised the royalist 
 officer. 
 
 Don Rafael, too proud to appeal to old friendships for protection 
 ■ — even to one whose life he had saved, in return for a similar ser- 
 vice — put spurs to his borse, and galloped towards Trujano. With 
 such impetuosity did he ride, that in other instant the two horses 
 woud have come into collision, had not the bridle of Don Rafael's 
 been grasped by a hand — the hand of Lantejas ! The Captain, at 
 the risk of being crushed under the hoofs of both horses — moved 
 
A GENEROUS ENEMY. 225 
 
 by the generosity which Don Rafael had so lately bestowed upoft 
 him — rushed between the two horsemen as a mediator. 
 
 " Colonel Trujano !" cried he, " I do not know what you mean in 
 saying that the General is indebted to me for a victory ; but, if I 
 have done anything that deserves a recompense, I do not wish any 
 other than the life and liberty of Don Rafael Tres- Villas." 
 
 " 1 ask favours from no one," interrupted Don Rafael, with a 
 haughty glance towards Trujano. 
 
 " You will grant me one — that of giving me your hand," said 
 the ex-muleteer, at the same time cordially holding out his own. 
 
 " Never to a conqueror !" exclaimed Don Rafael, though evident- 
 ly affected, in spite of himself, by the action and speech of his 
 generous enemy. 
 
 " Here there is neither conqueror nor conquered," rejoined Tru- 
 jano with that winning smile that gained all hearts. "There is a 
 man, however, who always remembers a service done to him." 
 
 " And another who never forgets one," repeated Don Rafael, 
 with warmth, at the same time grasping the hand that was still held 
 towards him. 
 
 Then the two horsemen drew their horses nearer, and exchanged 
 the most cordial greetings. 
 
 Trujano profited by this occasion to whisper in the ear of his 
 enemy, and with a delicacy which still further moved Don Rafael, 
 whose pride he had treated with such condescension — 
 
 " Go — you are free. Only promise not to cut the hair off the 
 heads of any more poor women ; although it is said there was one 
 whose heart trembled with pride that the conqueror of Aguas 
 Calientes should send her such a terrible souvenir. Go!" added he, 
 withdrawing his hand from the convulsive grasp of Don Rafael, 
 ** deliver yourself up a prisoner at the hacienda Las Palmas, where 
 the road is open for you, believe me." 
 
 Then, as if he had too long occupied himself with the trivial 
 affairs of the world, the countenance of Trujano resumed its ex- 
 pression of ascetic gravity, and when the eyes of Don Rafael was 
 interrogating it, in hopes of reading there the true signification of 
 the last words, the insurgent chieftain called out — 
 
 " Let Don Rafael Tres-Villas pass free ! Let every one forget 
 what has occurred." 
 
 Saying this, he formally saluted the Royalist colonel with his 
 sword, who could only return the salute with a glance of the most 
 profound gratitude. 
 
 Don Rafael pressed the hand of the captain; and bowing coldly 
 
220 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 to the other insurgents, rode out from their midst. Then, urging 
 his horse into a gallop, he followed the road that led outward from 
 the plain of Huajapam. 
 
 On finding himself alone, he reduced the speed of his horse to a 
 walk, and became absorbed in a reverie of reflection. The last 
 words of Trujano — what could they mean ? " The road is open for 
 you, believe me" Was it an assurance that he should be welcomed 
 at the hacienda of Las P almas'? Should he proceed thither, as the 
 insurgent colonel had counselled him? or should he go direct to Del 
 Valle, to make arrangements for his last campaign against the brig- 
 and Arroyo ?" 
 
 Once more had commenced the struggle between love and duty. 
 
 Don Rafael would not have hesitated long as to the course he 
 should pursue, had some good genius only made known to him a 
 certain fact — that at tne same hour an accident was occurring at the 
 hacienda Del Valle, of a nature to reconcile the two conflicting 
 sentiments that had warped the thread of his destiny. 
 
 A messenger from Don Mariano — the same who had brought back 
 Roncador to Del Valle — had on that very day again presented him- 
 self at the hacienda. This time his errand was one of a purely 
 personal nature — to Don Rafael Tres-Villas himself. 
 
 " Where arc you from 1" demanded Veraegui of the messenger 
 in his usual blunt Catalonian fashion. 
 
 "Oajaca!" 
 
 "Who has sent you 1 ?" 
 
 " Don Mariano de Silva." 
 
 " What do you want with the colonel?" 
 
 " I can only declare my errand to the colonel himself." 
 
 " Then you will have to go to Huajapam first — that is, unless you 
 prefer to wait till he arrives here. We expect him in three or four 
 days." 
 
 " I prefer going to Huajapam," rejoined the man ; " my errand 
 is of such a nature that it will not bear delay." 
 
 This messenger was on his way to Huajapam, and not more than 
 thirty leagues from the town, at the moment when Don Rafael was 
 leaving it to proceed in the opposite direction. 
 
 Meanwhile Trujano, returning to the field of battle covered with 
 the bodies of his dead and wounded enemies, caused all his soidiers 
 to kneel, and publicly render thanks to God for having delivered 
 them from their long and painful seige. Morelos at the same mo- 
 ment ordered his troops to prostrate themselves in prayer; and then 
 
A GENEROUS ENEMY* v 227 
 
 a psalm was sung by all in chorus, to consecrate the important vic- 
 tory they had gained. 
 
 Don Rafael was still not so distant from the field but that he could 
 hoar the swelling of many voices in the pious chaunt. The sounds 
 foil with melancholy effect upon his ears, until the tears began to 
 chase themselves over his cheeks. 
 
 In reviewing the circumstances which had influenced him to change 
 his line of conduct in regard to this revolution, he reflected that had 
 he given way to more generous instincts, and not allowed himself 
 to be forced astray by the desire of fulfilling a rash vow, his voice 
 would at that moment have been mingling with theirs — one of the 
 loudest in giving thanks for the success of a cause of which he was 
 now the irreconcilable enemy ! 
 
 With an effort he repulsed these reflections, and sternly resolved 
 upon going to the hacienda Del Valle, to re-steel his heart over the 
 tomb of his father. 
 
 A perilous journey it would be for him. The whole province — 
 the capital and one or two other places excepted — was now in the 
 hands of the insurgents; and a royalist officer could not travel the 
 roads with out great risk of falling into their hands. 
 
 " God protect him who does his duty,' muttered Don Rafael, as 
 he again turned his horse to the roads, spurring him into a gallop, 
 in order that the sound of his hoofs might drown that pious song, 
 which, by stirring up sad souvenirs, was fast weakening his resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 In another hour he had crossed the Sierra which bounded the 
 plain of Huajapam, and was following the road which led south- 
 ward to the hacienda Del Valle. 
 
22& THE TIGER-IIUXTER. 
 
 CHAPTER LI . 
 
 RUDE GUESTS. 
 
 Let us now recount the events which took place at the hacienda 
 Las Palmas from the day on which Captain Tres-Villas was com- 
 pelled to leave Don Mariano and his two daughters at the mercy of 
 the ferocious robbers Arroyo and Bocardo. 
 
 The two guerilleros had sought refuge there, with the remnant of 
 their band — most of which had been already destroyed by Tres- 
 Villas and Caldelas. From the moment of first entering his house, 
 they had insisted upon a footing of perfect equality between them- 
 selves and their old master. Even Gertrudis and Marianita were 
 not exempted from this compulsory social levelling. The brigands 
 ate at the same table with Don Mariano and his daughters — were 
 waited upon by the servants of the hacienda — and slept in the very 
 best beds the house afforded. 
 
 All the while Bocardo was observed to cast covetous glances on 
 the silver plate — which, as is customary in the houses of Mexican 
 ricos, was massive and abundant. 
 
 In Don Mariano's presence he was in the habit of frequently 
 making allusion to the richness of the Royalists; and behind his 
 back he had several times endeavoured to persuade Arroyo that one 
 who was the proprietor of such wealth, as was enjoyed by the 
 haciendado, could not be otherwise than an enemy to the insurgent 
 cause, and, at the bottom of his heart, a friend to the oppressors 
 of the country. 
 
 " Look at us, poor insurgents !" he would say, " often reduced — 
 especially when absent from this hospitable mansion — to use our 
 fingers for forks, and our tortillas for spoons I" 
 
 And the wind-up of his argument always was, that they " ought to 
 treat as a Royalist a master who dined every day upon silver plates 
 — that Don Mariano should be reduced to the same condition as 
 
RUDE GUESTS. 22? 
 
 other patriotic insurgents, and use his fingers for forks, while his 
 plates should be converted into piastres. 
 
 Up to a certain period Arroyo rejected these proposals of his com* 
 rade. Not that he had any more respect for the property of Don 
 Mariano than his associate had ; but rather that he was not yet suf- 
 ficiently hardened to reckless outrage, as to perpetrate such an auda- 
 cious robbery on one who was publicly known to be a friend to the 
 insurgent cause. We say, up to a certain time Arroyo preserved 
 these egoistical scruples ; but that time terminated on the day and 
 hour when, in the presence of his old master, and the whole house, 
 hold of Las Palmas, he was forced to endure the terrible insults in- 
 flicted upon him by the" dragoon captain. From that moment he 
 transferred a portion of his vengeful hatred for Don Rafael to the 
 haciendado and his daughters ; and it is possible that on his leaving 
 Las Palmas the night after — which the dangerous proximity of Del- 
 Valle influenced him to do — he would have left bloody traces be- 
 hind him, but for the interference of his associate Bocardo. 
 
 The latter, in his turn, had counselled moderation. More covet- 
 ous of gold, and less thirsty of blood than Arroyo, the astute bri- 
 gand had represented, that, " there could be no great blame attached 
 to them for using the silver of Don Mariano to serve the good 
 cause of the insurrection ; that the more needy of the insurgents 
 might justly demand aid from their richer brethren, but not their 
 lives or their blood." 
 
 Arroyo no longer combated the proposals of his confrere. TV* 
 him they now appeared moderate; and the result was, that th(. 
 two forbans collected all of Don Mariano's silver they could lay 
 their hands upon, with such other valuables as were portable — and, 
 having made a distribution among their followers, decamped that 
 night from Las Palmas, taking good care in their Hegira to give the 
 hacienda of Del Valle a wide berth. 
 
 With regard to Don Mariano and his daughters, they were only 
 too happy that nothing worse than robbery had been attempted by 
 the brigands. They had dreaded outrage as well as spoliation ; and 
 they were rejoiced at being left with their lives and honour unin- 
 jured. 
 
 Made aware, by this episode, of the danger of living any longer 
 in a house isolated as Las Palmas — which might be at the mercy 
 any moment of either royalists or insurgents — Don Mariano be- 
 thought of retiring to Oajaca. He would be safer then — even though 
 the town was thoroughly devoted to the cause of the king ; for, as yefc 
 his political opinions had not been declared sufficiently to compro 
 
5230 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 mise him. For some days, however, circumstances of one kind 01 
 another arose to hinder him from putting this project in execu- 
 tion. 
 
 The hacienda of San Carlos, inhabited by the man who was about 
 to become his son-in-law — Don Ferdnando de Lacarra — was only 
 a few leagues distant from that of Las Palmas ; and Marianita did 
 not like the idea of leaving the neighbourhood. Without stating 
 the true one, she urged a thousand objections to this departure. 
 Gertrudis was also against it. The souvenirs which Las Palmas 
 called up were at once sweet and sad : and the influence which sor- 
 row has over love is well known — especially within the heart of 
 woman. 
 
 In the hacienda Las Palmas sad memories were not wanting to 
 Gertrudis. How often, at sunset, did she sit in the window of her 
 chamber, with her eyes bent in dreamy melancholy over the distant 
 plain — deserted as on that evening when Don Rafael hastened to 
 arrive, risking life that he might see her but an hour sooner! 
 
 When Don Rafael in the first burst of his grief and vengeance, in- 
 dulged in that wild pleasure which is often felt in breaking the 
 heart of another, while one's own is equally crushed — galloped off 
 along the road to Oajaca, after burying the gage aV armour in the 
 tomb of his father — thus renouncing his love without telling of it — 
 then, and for some time after, the young girl waited only with vivid 
 impatience. The pique she had at first felt was soon effaced by anx- 
 iety for his safety ; but this at length gave place to agony more 
 painful than that of suspense — the agony of suspicion. 
 
 We have already related, by what insensible and gradual transi- 
 tions the family of Don Mariano de Silva had become confirmed in 
 the belief, that Don Rafael had proved traitor to his mistress as to 
 his country. 
 
 Nevertheless, at that moment when he presented himself, to de- 
 mand the surrendering of the brigands, the sounds of his voice fall- 
 ing upon the ears of Gertrudis had come very near vanquishing her 
 wounded^pride. That manly voice — whether when exchanging a few 
 words with her father, or hurling defiance at the ferocious Arroya — 
 had caused her heart to tremble in every fibre. She required at 
 that moment to summon up all the resentment of love disdained, as 
 well as all the natural modesty of woman, to hinder her from 
 showing herself to Don Rafael, and crying out — 
 
 " Oh, Rafael ! I can more easily bear the dagger of Arroyo, than 
 your desertion of me !" 
 
 " Alas ! what have you done, mio padre ?" cried she, addressing 
 
RUDK GUK8TS 223 1 
 
 herself to her father, as soon as Don Rafael had gone ; you have 
 wounded his pride by your irritating words, at the very moment 
 when, out of regard for us, he has renounced the vengeance which 
 he ha i sworn on the grave of his father ! It may be that the words 
 ot oblivion and reconciliation were upon his lips; and you have hin- 
 dered him from speaking them now and for ever. Ah! moi padre I 
 you have ruined the last hope of your poor child!" 
 
 The haciendado could make no reply to speeches that caused his 
 heart to bleed. He deeply regretted the allusions he had made, 
 towards an enemy to whose generosity he was now indebted for the 
 lives both of himself and children. 
 
232 THIS TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 love's malady. 
 
 After the departure of the bandits a mournful tranquility reigned 
 in the hacienda of Las Palmas. Gertrudis, asking herself at every 
 moment of the day whether Don RafaeJ really no longer loved her, 
 could only answer with certainty that she loved him, and should do 
 so forever. 
 
 One afternoon — it was the third <tfter Arroyo had gone — she sat 
 looking over the plain as the sun was slowly sinking to the horizon. 
 It was just such an evening as that on which she had awaited the 
 arrival of Don Rafael. Now, however, the floods had retired, and 
 the landscape had assumed a more verdant and joyous aspect. 
 
 All at once, half-a-dozen horsemen appeared before her eyes, as if 
 just coming from the hills in the rear of the hacienda. The Spanish 
 pennants floating from their lances proclaimed them to be Royalist 
 dragoons. One rode a little in advance of the rest, evidently their 
 leader. Several other horsemen appeared, following them ; until a 
 large troop was seen defiling across the plain. 
 
 Gertrudis heeded not those in rank. Her eyes were solely oc- 
 cupied by the one who rode in front. He was too distant to be 
 recognized by the sight, but her heart told her who it was. 
 
 " I, too," murmured she to herself, " I have been rash in my 
 words — in pronouncing an anathema against those sons of our coun- 
 try who should betray its cause. What matters it to the woman 
 who loves, what flag her belovei may fight under? His cause 
 should be heis. Why did I not do as my sister 1 Ah ! why, indeed ? 
 Marianita is now happy, while I " A sigh choked her utter- 
 ance, and with tears falling from her eves she continued silently to 
 
LOVE'S MALADY. 233 
 
 gaze after the horsemen, until their retreating forms melted away 
 into the golden haze of the sunset. 
 
 Not even once had their leader turned his face towards the haci 
 enda, and yet it was Don Rafael ! 
 
 It was in reality the dragoon captain, going off in obedience to the 
 order he had received ; and who to conceal from his soldiers the an- 
 guish of his spirit, had thus ridden past the hacienda without turning 
 his head to look back. 
 
 From this time it should have mastered little to Gertrudis where 
 she might reside. For her, Las Pahnas had now only sad memo- 
 ries ; but even these seemed to attaeh her to the place; and she 
 could not help thinking, that her departure from Las Pal mas would 
 break the last link that bound her to him she so devotedly loved. 
 
 When Don Rafael no longer breathed the same air with her, she 
 found a melancholy pleasure in taking care of his beautiful steed — 
 the bay -brown Roncador — that, having galloped off after the encoun- 
 ter with the men of Arroyo, had been recaught by Don Mariano's 
 vaqueros, and brought back to the hacienda. 
 
 Shortly after the marriage of Marianita with Don Fernando de 
 Lacarra was celebrated. This union had been arranged, long pre- 
 vious to the breaking out of the insurrection, and found no opposi- 
 tion on the part of Don Mariano. Don Fernando was a Spaniard, 
 it is true ; but he had already obtained the consent of the hacienda- 
 do. Even under the changed circumstances in which the revolution 
 had placed the country, it would not have been refused. Like manj 
 other Spaniards at this time, Don Fernando had chosen for hU 
 country, that which held the object of his affections ; and his sympa 
 thies had become enlisted in favour of the land of his adoption. 
 
 A few days after his marriage, he bore his young bride home 
 with him to the hacienda of San Carlos. His mansion was situated 
 not far from the hacienda of Del Valle, lying, as the latter did on 
 the banks of the river Ostuta which separated the two estates, and 
 not far from the lake of the same name. 
 
 Most of the people on the estate of Don Fernando — less given to 
 insurrectionary views than those of Las Pahnas — had remained 
 faithful to its owner. On this account, it appeared to offer a more 
 secure abode during the troublous time of the insurrection ; and 
 Don Fernando wished to give an asylum to his father-in-law and his 
 family. Don Mariano, however, had declined the offer, in hopes that 
 amidst the stirring life and society of a large town he might find 
 distraction for the melancholy of Gertrudis. He preferred, there* 
 fore, retiring to Oajaca, and a few days after his daughter's mar- 
 
234 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 riage had set out. Gertrudis refused to use the litera that had been 
 prepared for her on her journey. She preferred riding the beauti- 
 ful bay-brown, that had so often carried Don Rafael ; and the fiery 
 Roncador, as if conscious that he was carrying the object most dear 
 to his master, suffered himself to be guided with as much docility 
 by the fair frail hand of Gertrudis, as if his rein had been held in 
 the vigorous grasp of Don Rafael himself. 
 
 Contrary to Don Mariano's expectation, the sojourn in Oajaea 
 proved ineffectual in removing the melancholy under which his 
 daughter suffered. Insensible to all the attractions offered by the 
 best society of the place, the time hung heavily upon Gertrudis. 
 One moment of happiness she enjoyed : and that was when public 
 rumor announced that Colonel Tres-Villas, after capturiug the town 
 of Aguas Calientes, had caused the hair to be shorn from the heads 
 of three hundred women ! 
 
 As Trujano had already hinted — having heard it from Marianita 
 at the house of whose husband he had spent several days — this news 
 had for a moment filled the heart of the young Creole with happi- 
 ness and pride. Amidst the general surprise at this act of singular 
 severity, she also knew why it had been accomplished. Don Rafael 
 did not wish that she should be the only woman who, by this insur- 
 rection, should lament the loss of her hair. Gertrudis, nevertheless 
 did not fail to reproach herself, for indulging in this moment of 
 selfish happiness. 
 
 " Pobres mujeresf" (poor women !) exclaimed she, as she drew 
 her fingers through the ebony locks that already replaced the long 
 luxuriant tresses she had sacrificed. " Pobres mujercs ! They have 
 not had, as I, the good fortune to make the sacrifice for the life of 
 those they loved." 
 
 After this occurrence, months passed, without her receiving any 
 news of Don Rafael ; and her cheek, gradually growing paler, with 
 the blue circles darkening around her eyes, bore witness to the 
 mental torment she was enduring. 
 
 For the long period of two years this agony continued — the 
 young girl in vain endeavouring to stifle the passion that was 
 devouring her life. Both spirit and body, enfeebled by solitude, by 
 silence, and the sedentary character of the life she now led, had not 
 the strength to continue the struggle much longer. 
 
 Don Rafael had the advantage in this respect. He carried his 
 grief from one end of the kingdom to the other; and the constant 
 change of scene, along with the distraction caused by the excite- 
 ment of battles, were to him a species of relief. 
 
love's malady. 235 
 
 Such advantages were wanting to Gertrudis. Happily, however, 
 God has grantad to woman, in a large degree, the virtue of resigna- 
 tion — often her sole defence against sorrow. 
 
 Gertrudis made no complaint, but suffered in silence — concealing, 
 as well as she could, the dark chagrin that was consuming her. In 
 long sleepless nights, when resignation appeared as if it would suc- 
 cumb, a feeble ray of hope would sometimes break upon her spirit, 
 and for the moment restores its equanimity. 
 
 It was then she thought of her last resource — that which she in- 
 tended to make use of when her power of resistance should 
 be gone — that supreme resource that still existed in the tress of hair 
 she had so carefully cherished and preserved. 
 
 The sending back to Don Rafael his horse had already cost her a 
 pang. It had been a step on her part towards compromising the 
 strife between her love and pride. Still more painful would it be 
 to resort to that last measure, and avail herself of the permission, 
 alas ! so prophetically asked for. 
 
23*3 . THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER LIU 
 
 TOPOGRAPHICAL DETAILS. 
 
 In proportion as the insurrection spread through the province t f 
 Oajaca did the Royalists increase their watchfulness in the capital ; 
 and Don Mariano, having become suspected of a leaning towards 
 the insurgent cause, was ordered to leave the place. 
 
 Before taking his departure, he had despatched a messenger — the 
 same already made mention of — to the hacienda Del Valle. Upon 
 what errand 1 We shall know presently. 
 
 On the samoday that the messenger had presented himself to the 
 Catalan Lieutenant, and almost at the same hour, Don Rafael Tres- 
 Vills was galloping as a fugitive through the plains of Huajapam. 
 On that morning, also, Don Mariano de Silva took his departure 
 from Oajaca, en route for the hacienda San Carlos. The haciendado 
 was accompanied by his daughter Gertrudis, borne in a litter, and 
 attended by a number of mounted domestics. The pale checks of 
 the young girl, contrasted with the jurplish circle round her eyes, 
 proclaimed the mental agony she had endured. 
 
 Finally, on that same day, only at a later hour, another impor- 
 tant personage of our history — the Captain Don Cornelio Lantejas 
 — rode out from the camp of Morelos — evidently bent upon a jour- 
 ney, as was testified by the travelling costume that had replaced his 
 military uniform. He was accompanied by two men, easily re- 
 cognised as the scouts Costal and Clara. 
 
 Don Cornelio had been ordered by the insurgent general on a mis- 
 sion, confidential as it was dangerous. 
 
 The summer solstice was close at hand ; and the black and the 
 Indian — the latter having now accomplished his half century of 
 years — were discussing between themselves the best plan for rais- 
 ing the Siren of the dishevelled hair from the waters of the myste- 
 rious lake, Ostuta, on whose banks they expected to encamp, before 
 Don Cornelio had finally accomplished his mission. 
 
TOPOGRAPHICAL DETATLS. 237 
 
 Although this mission was of a secret and confidential character, 
 it will be no betrayal of confidence on our part to state at once 
 what it was. 
 
 The taking of the capital of Oajaca would not only render More- 
 los master of the whole province, but all the southern part of New 
 Spain — from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. The insurgent gen- 
 eral was, therefore, anxious to complete this magnificent conquest be- 
 fore the closing of that year's campaign. 
 
 Neverth dess, in the prospect of attacking a town so populous and 
 well garrisoned as Oajaca, he deemed it prudent to gain some in- 
 formation as to its actual resources; and it was chiefly upon this er- 
 rand he had despatched his aide-de-camp Lantejas. 
 
 The mission of the Captain had another object, of secondary im- 
 portance, which, however, was the first to be accomplished. To the 
 honour of the cause which Morelos upheld, it was vf urgent necessi- 
 ty to put an end to the depredations of the two notorious guerilleros, 
 Arroyo and Bocardo ; whose deeds of cruel atrocity were rapidly 
 producing the effect of rendering the insurrection as odious to its 
 partisans as to its enemies. The force which these two leaders had 
 under their command was as little known as the whereabouts in 
 which they might be found ; but their bloody deeds had rendered 
 them as much dreaded as if a numerous army had been under their 
 orders. The rapidity of their movements gave them the opportuni- 
 ty of multiplying, to an indefinite extent, their acts of ferocity, 
 though at the same time a pursuer in search of them might have 
 easily found them by the ensanguined track which marked their pas- 
 sage. 
 
 Arroyo, ever ready to imbrue his hands in blood — no matter 
 whose — seemed to find a savage pleasure in destroying life; and one 
 of his favorite habits was to be himself the executioner of his victims. 
 lie was endowed with some brute courage, a quality altogether 
 wanting to his associate, Antonio Bocardo ; for the latter was both 
 cowardly and cruel, though in general more inclined to robbery than 
 murder. 
 
 Morelos had been apprised of the outrages and murders com- 
 mitted by these two bandits; and a message to them was one of the 
 commissions with which Captain Lantejas had been charged. The 
 message was in the form of a simple threat — it was to say to them, 
 on the part of the insurgent general, that, unless they discontinued 
 those outrages which had so long dishonored the insurgent cause, 
 should both be drawn and quartered. 
 
 From the reputation which these two brigands had acquired, of 
 
238 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 being little mindful of military authority — as well as on account of 
 the rigid guard which the Spaniards had established in Oajaca — it 
 will be seen that we have spoken only the simple truth in saying 
 that the mission of Captain Lantejas was anything but a safe one. 
 With melancholy mien, therefore, he traversed the road leading from 
 Huajapam to the Ostuta river, upon the banks of which it was re- 
 ported that Arroyo and his band were at that time encamped. 
 
 Before proceeding farther it will be necessary to give, at a bird's 
 eye view — if we may use the expression — the topography of the 
 country lying in a triangle between Huajapam, Oajaca, and the Lake 
 Ostuta: for this is now to become the arena of the future events of 
 our narrative. 
 
 Regarding Huajapam and the town of Oajaca as on the same line, 
 we find a road running from each — the two gradually converging 
 until they meet. The point of union is upon the banks of the Ostuta 
 river, not far from the lake, and where a ford crosses the stream. 
 Before arriving at this ford, the hacienda Del Valle lies to one side 
 of the Oajaca road, while about an hour's journey after crossing the 
 river the domain of San Carlos is reached. These two estates— each 
 embracing an immense tract of territory — would be contiguous to 
 each other, but for the river which flows between and separates' 
 them. 
 
 Arroyo, having returned to the neighborhood, with the number 
 of his followers augmented by recent successes, as well as by the 
 more favorable prospects of the insurrection, had sworn not to leave 
 a stone of the hacienda Del Valle standing in its place ; and to ac 
 complish this vow was the object of his presence on the banks of the. 
 Ostuta. 
 
 His band, divided into two encampments, held both sides of the 
 river, just by the crossing. Thus disposed he could direct himself 
 at will, either against San Carlos or Del Valle. 
 
 It was not only possible, but probable, that the messenger of Don 
 Mariano de Silva, going from Del Valle to Huajapam, would meet 
 Don Rafael coming in the opposite direction, and about half way ; 
 since, as already stated, both had set out about the same time. It 
 w r as also likely enough that Don Mariano and his daughter, en route 
 for San Carlos, would encounter Captain Lantejas, travelling from 
 Huajapam somewhere not far from the crossing of the Ostuta. The 
 time at which both had started on their respective journeys w r ould 
 favour this probability. Finally, Don Rafael, making for the haci- 
 enda Del Valle, unless some accident should detain him, might meet 
 all those personages almost at the same instant of time. 
 
SUNRISE IN THE TROPICS. 5W» 
 
 The principal characters of our history would thus be once mow 
 ■nited on the banks of the Ostuta. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 8UNRISE IN THE TROPICS. 
 
 On the fourth day after the siege of Huajapam, let the reader 
 fancy himself transported to the banks of the Ostuta, where he will 
 behold one of the most magnificent natural landscapes of American 
 scenery. 
 
 The sun has not ye* risen, and the maipouri, (tapir) before seek- 
 ing his forest lair, plunges once more under the shadowy waves of 
 the river. The Mexican roebuck, more timid than the tapir, trem- 
 bling at the slightest sound among the leaves, watches while drink- 
 ing for the first signs of daybreak — its signal to conceal itself in the 
 thickets of sassafras and tall ferns. The solitary heron, standing 
 statue-like upon its long legs, and the red flamingoes ranged in silent 
 ranks, await, on the contrary, the coming of the dawn to commence 
 their matutinal fishery. 
 
 There is a profound silence over all, save those vague sounds heard 
 at this hour even in the most solitary places — where the different 
 guests of the forest, according to their natures, are either awaking 
 to begin their day, or retiring to their haunts for rest and conceal- 
 ment. 
 
 Although the darkness of night has disappeared, the eye cannot 
 yet make out, amidst the whitish vapour that overhangs the stream, 
 with what species of vegetation its banks are adorned. The crowns 
 of palm-trees, rising high above the other foliage — like noble knights 
 of the olden time above the melee of common warriors — can alone 
 be distinguished. To a superficial observer, the banks of the Ostuta 
 might appear as much of a solitude as in those days before the 
 children of Europe had set foot upon American soil; but the eye 
 
240 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 of one scrutinizing the scene more narrowly would discover this de- 
 serted appearance to be altogether a deception. 
 
 Along the right bank of the river — near its main crossing — might 
 be distinguished a number of scattered fires, scintillating through 
 the nocturnal vapour, like stars in a cloud-covered sky. 
 
 On the left bank also, and opposite the first, others appear, irreg- 
 ularly gleaming along the edge of the river. Both lines of fires be- 
 token an encampment — the same, though separated into two divi- 
 sions by the stream. 
 
 At a considerable distance from the crossing, and contiguous to 
 the road leading from Huajapam to the hacienda Del Valie, in the 
 midst of a little glade, might be seen a group of eight horsemen, at 
 the moment apparently engaged in some consultation among them- 
 selves. 
 
 Still nearer to the river, and at the distance of some three or four 
 mnired yards from this group, two pedestrian travellers appeared, 
 cautiously advancing along the road, where it wound through an ex- 
 tensive wood of guiacum and cedrela trees. 
 
 Finally, between the eight horsemen and the two foot travellers, 
 and about mid-distance from each party, a single individual might 
 hive been seen, who could not be called either horseman or pedes- 
 trian, and who could neither be said to be occupied in any way. — 
 in fact, this personage was fast asleep, though in a most singular 
 situation and attitude ; that is to say, fast bound with a scarf of 
 scarlet silk between the two main branches of a tree, and at a 
 height of over ten feet from the ground. 
 
 The thick foliage so completely concealed him, however, that 
 an Indian spy might have passed under the tree without suspecting 
 his presence. 
 
 The individual who occupied this aerial couch was no other than 
 Colonel Don Rafael Tres-Villas. 
 
 There are occasions when extreme bodily fatigue has the effect of 
 causing apprehension in the spirit; and Don Rafael had found 
 himself in one of these occasions. 
 
 Wearied, after three days journey under a hot sun, and having 
 hid no sleep on the night before setting out, in spite of the uncom- 
 fortable position in which he had placed himself, Don Rafael was 
 enjoying that deep repose which is often granted to the tired soldier 
 even on the eve of a sanguinary battle. 
 
 Leaving him, therefore, to indulge in bis lofty siesta, and passing 
 tos^m. 1 distance from the spot, and along the road leading to Oaja- 
 
SUNRISE IN THE TROPICS. 241 
 
 ca, we shall encounter another group, differing from any yet men- 
 tioned. 
 
 At a short distance from the river Ostuta, and near the lake of 
 tms name, a little before daybreak, might be seen a small party of 
 travellers about to resume their journey interrupted for the night. 
 From the haste exhibited in mnKing preparations for departure from 
 their bivouac, it would appear as if they were in dread of some, 
 danger. Two of them were busy in extinguishing the remains of a 
 fire, lest its light might still betray them ; two others saddled the 
 horses ; while a fifth, who stood by the half-opened curtains of a 
 lierto, appeared to be reassuring a young lady who was inside. 
 
 It is scarce necessary to say that the travellers in question were 
 Don Mariano de Silva, his daughter, and their domestics. 
 
 In the midst of the solitudes of transalantic scenery, there are 
 two solemn hours out of the twenty-four, in which all created na- 
 ture seems more especially to rejoice — the hours of sunrise and sun- 
 set. 
 
 The eternal horologe is about to sound the first. A fresh breeze 
 arising, gently stirs the leaves of the trees, and, playing over the 
 surface of the water, despels the nocturnal vapours. The eastern 
 sky is becoming tinged with bright yellow streaks, mixed with the 
 purple of the aurora, which proclaims the approach of the rising 
 sun. His coming is saluted by the voices of myriads of bright 
 birds that flutter among the trees of the forest. 
 
 The jackal flying to ^is den, utters his parting growl, and the fu- 
 neral voices of the night-birds are heard for the last time. The mai- 
 pouri and roebuck have already disappeared within the thickets, 
 where they have chosen their respective dens. 
 
 Finally, the clouds redden like the wings of the flamingoes, as the 
 sun, shooting upward, gleams with golden brilliance upon the fronds 
 of the palms, and discloses in all their splendid variety the trees 
 of the American forest. 
 
 The tall ebony trees, with their bunches of golden flowers, the 
 guiacums and perfumed liquidambars — like pyramids of solid veg- 
 etation — the mahogany and cedrela trees, and the princely palms 
 towering over gigantic treeferns, and fanciful festoons of parasitical 
 climbers, that form a flowery cortege around their stems. 
 
 In the midst of the almost impenetrable labyrinths formed by 
 these various kinds of trees, glades may here and there be encoun- 
 tered, and paths leading frovn one to another, trodden only by wild 
 animals, or savage bulls, the descendants of those introduced "by the 
 
242 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 great Cortez into the province of Oajaca. These, maddened by thirst, 
 may be seen pressing through the thick undergrowth towards the 
 river, or standing, half immersed, with their black muzzles buried 
 under water. Here and there pieces of the flowery turf, detached 
 by their hooves, float down the stream, while birds alighting from 
 these miniature islets, joyfully flap their wings, as if celebrating a 
 triumphal procession upon the skater. 
 
 Such, in all its primitive splendour, was the aspect of the Ostuta 
 on the morning in question, at that sol emnal hour, when the *wn orr» 
 Maimed his presence upon the ersten* horizon. 
 
THE BANDIT CAMP. 24-3 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 THE BANDIT CAMP. 
 
 The bivouac fires appearing by the ford of the Ostuta were thos« 
 of Arroyo and his guerilla. 
 
 At sunrise, this temporary encampment of the guerilleros pre- 
 sented a scene sufficiently animated and picturesque. A hundred 
 men might be seen occupying themselves in grooming their horses. 
 This they did in the most primitive fashion, some rubbing them 
 down with bunches of dry grass, others with the first stone that of- 
 fered, while still others, mounted on the bare backs of the animals, 
 were swimming them through the stream, in order to wash and re- 
 fresh them. On the bank the saddles were placed in a sort of irregu- 
 lar alignment, in the midst of bales of goods laid open, and of which 
 only the coverings remained upon the ground, tu tell of plunder 
 taken from some unfortunate arriero. 
 
 On the right bank of the river — that side on which lay the had. 
 enda San Carlos — was the principal encampment. There stood a 
 laige, rudely-shaped tent, constructed out of the covers of the de- 
 spoiled packages — pieces of coarse hempen canvass and sack cloth, 
 woven from the fibres of the maguey. 
 
 Two guerilleros, armed from head to foot, with carbines, swords, 
 pistols and knives, mounted guard on each side of it, pacing to and 
 fro, but at such a distance from the tent that neither could hear what 
 might be said within. 
 
 This rude marquee was the headquarters of the two leaders, Ar- 
 royo and Bocardo, both of whom were at that moment inside. They 
 were seated upon the skulls of bullocks which served them for chairs, 
 each smoking a cigarette rolled in the husk of Indian corn. From 
 the attitude presented by Arroyo — his eyes bent upon the ground, 
 which was cut up by the long heavy rowels of his spurs, it was evi. 
 
244 TII2 TIGKK-1ICXTSE. 
 
 dent that his astute associate was employing arguments to influence 
 him to some deed of crime. 
 
 " Most certainly," said the latter, with an air of drollery, " I am 
 disposed to do justice to the good qualities of the Senora Arroyo; 
 they were truly admirable. When a man is wounded, she volun- 
 teers to sprinkle red pepper over his wounds. Nothing can be more 
 touching than the way she intercedes for the prisoners we condemn 
 to death — that is, that they may be put to death as slowly as may- 
 be — I mean as gently as possible." 
 
 " Ah ! that is not selfishness on h°r part," interrupted the bus. 
 band. " She does so to please me rather than herself — poor thing*" 
 
 " True, she is greatly devoted to you — a worthy woman, indeed ! 
 Still, camarado," continued Bocardo, with a hesitation that told he 
 had finished speaking the praises of Madame Arroyo; "you will 
 acknowledge she is neither very young nor very pretty." 
 
 "Well — say she is old and ugly," answered Arroyo, "she suits 
 my purpose for all that." 
 
 " That's strange enough." 
 
 " Its less strange than you think for. I have rny reasons. She 
 shares with me the execration of the public; and if I were a widow- 
 er " 
 
 " You would have to bear it all upon your own shoulders. Bah ! 
 they are broad enough for that !" 
 
 " True," replied Arroyo, flattered at the compliment, " but you, 
 amigo, have also a share of that load. It isn't often that the name 
 of Arroyo is cursed without that of Bocardo being mixed up in the 
 malediction." 
 
 " Ah, there are too many lying tongues in this world." 
 
 " Besides continued the brigand, returning to the subject of Mad- 
 ame Arroyo, " I have another good reason for wishing that no harm 
 should come to my wife. She is in possession of a scapulary, blessed 
 by the pope of Rome; which has the wonderful power of causing 
 the husband of whatever woman may carry it to die at the same time 
 that his wife does." 
 
 " Oh !" rejoined Bocardo in a tone of repudiation," I did not mean 
 that you should kill the Senora Arroyo — nothing of the kind. My 
 idea is that she should be sent to the convent of the penitents, where 
 she should occupy her time in praying for the salvation of her soul 
 as well as that of her husband. Then replace her by a pretty young 
 damsel, with eyes end hair as black as night, lips as red as the flow- 
 ers of the grenadine, and skin as white as the floripondio.. Now you 
 
THE BANDIT CAMP. 245 
 
 ean tell me what for the last half-hour I have been killing myself to 
 make you comprehend." 
 
 "And do you know of such a pretty young damsel?" inquired 
 Arroyo after an interval of silence, which proved that the arguments 
 of his associate were not lost upon him. 
 
 " Of course 1 do, and so do you as well — one that you could lay 
 your hands on at any moment." 
 
 "Where?' 
 
 " Where 1 ?" At the hacienda of San Carlos. Where else should 
 she be ?' 
 
 " You mean the Dona Marianita de Silva ?" 
 
 " Precisely so." 
 
 " Mil demun'ws camarado ! Do you intend us to sack every ha- 
 cienda in the country ? Of course it is for the sake of j ijlaging the 
 house, that you wish me to possess myself of its mistress. 
 
 "The owner of San Carlos is a Spaniard," rejoined Bocardo, with- 
 out making any direct reply to the insinuation of his associate. " It 
 would surely be no crime to take either the wife or property of a 
 Qachiqrino." 
 
 " Hold, amigo ! that Gachupino is as great a friend to the insur- 
 gent cause as you or I. lie has furnished us with provisions, 
 and " 
 
 " True, but he does it out of pure fear. How can you suppose 
 that any one is a true insurgent who has chests filled with bags of 
 dollars, drawers crammed with silver plate, and besides," added 
 Bocardo, to conceal his true designs, " such a pretty young wife by 
 his side. Bah ! we were fools that we did not take Don Mariano's 
 two daughters from him, at the same time that we disembarrassed, 
 him of his plate. We should have been better off now, and I, too 
 should have possessed a beautiful creature, whereas I am still a soli* 
 tary bachelor. But it's my luck, comrade, always to sacrifice my 
 own interests to yours." 
 
 " Look here, Bocardo !" said the brigand leader, after a moment 
 of pensive silence, in which he appeared to reflect upon the propo- 
 sals of his astute associate, h we shall get ourselves into trouble ii 
 we carry on in this fashion. It may end in our being hunted down 
 like a pair of wild beasts." 
 
 " We have ahundred and fifty devoted followers," simply replied 
 the other, " every one of them brave and true as his dagger." 
 
 "Well," said Arroyo, still speaking in a reflective tone, "I da 
 not say, but 1 shall think it over !" 
 
 The eyes of Bocardo flashed with a fierce joy as he perceived the 
 
C46 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 undecided bearing of his associate. Well knew he that, before trio 
 end of that day, he should be able to obtain Arroyo's full consent 
 and co-operation hi the dark and terrible deed he had designed to 
 accomplish. 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 A REAL VIRAGO. 
 
 The two brigands remained for some time without saying a word, 
 both reflecting on the scheme of murder and pillage which they 
 now premeditated. 
 
 At this moment the tent flap was raised and a figure appeared 
 in the entrance. 
 
 It was a woman of masculine mien — a true virago — robust and 
 h lie ; but whose countenance betrayed the ravage of evil passions 
 rather than time. Her coarse hair, clubbed around her head, and 
 held in its place by a large tortoise-shell comb with gold pendants, 
 showed no sign of advanced age. It was black as ebony. Around 
 liar neck were hung numerous chains of gold and glass beads, to 
 which were attached a number of crosses, scapularies, and other 
 golden ornaments ; but in spite of this gaudy adorning her counte 
 n ince was hideous to behold, and did not belie the portrait of Art 
 royo's wife which had been sketched by Bocardo, for it was she. 
 As she presented herself at the opening of the tent, rage was depict* 
 e I in her countenance, exhibiting itself in the swollen veins of her 
 neck and forehead, and in the rolling of her bloodshot eyes. 
 
 " A sharne on you !" cried she, casting on Bocardo, whom she 
 both hated and despised, the angry look she feared to give her 
 husband, "a shame on you, that after the oath you have taken, 
 there should still remain a stone of this nest of vipers, or a man to 
 defend it !" 
 
 " Well — what now !" demanded Arroyo, in an ill-humored tone. 
 '* What nest of vipers are you speaking of?" 
 
 " The hacienda Del Valle — what other should it be ? There our 
 men — the greater number of th^m at least — have been besieging it 
 Pit three days without any result. No, not without result, for I've 
 just this moment learnt that three of our people have been killed in 
 i sortie, and that this accursed Catalan who commands the place, 
 kiss nailed their heads over the door of the hacienda !" 
 
A REAL VIRAGO, 247 
 
 "Who h:is told you this V quickly demanded Arroyo. 
 "Gaspacho, lie is outside awaiting your orders. Ho has been 
 sent to ask for a reinforcement." 
 
 "By all the devils!"' cried Arroyo, in a rage. "Woman, who 
 has given you the privilege of interrogating the couriers that are senl 
 to me ?" 
 
 As he put this interrogatory, the brigand sprang to his feet ; and 
 seizing the bullock's skull on which he had been seated, made a 
 motion as if he would crush with it that of his Amazonian partner. 
 Perhaps, influenced by the late councils of Bocardo, he would have 
 decided on bearing the public execration upon his own shoulders, 
 had it not been for that scapulary blessed by the Pope, and whose 
 fatal influence he at the moment remembered. 
 
 Bocardo paid no attention to the threatening demonstration of 
 his associate, but sat phlegmatically silent. 
 
 " Maria Sanlissima /" exclaimed the virago, as she retreated be- 
 fore the angry menace of her husband, " will you not protect me, 
 Senor Bocardo ?" 
 
 " Hum !" replied the latter, without moving from his seat, " you 
 know the proverb, worthy Senora? Between the tree and the bark 
 — you understand ? These little domestic broils "' 
 
 "Must not occur any more," interposed Arroyo, quieting down, 
 "and now, Senora," continued he, addressing himself to his help- 
 mate, " before receiving Gaspacho, I have a commission for you to 
 execute." 
 
 " W^hat may that be?" brusqely demanded the woman, elevating 
 her tone in proportion as that of her husband became lowered. 
 
 " It is a magnificent scheme — conceived by me," interrupted 
 Bocardo. 
 
 " Ah !" exclaimed the virago, " if you had only as much courage 
 as intelligence, Senor Bocardo !" 
 
 " Bah ! Arroyo has courage enough for both -of us." 
 
 "That," said Arroyo, suddenly turning his anger upon his associ. 
 ate, who had not the advantage of possessing a charmed scapulary, 
 " that is as much as to say that you have the intelligence for both of 
 us ?" 
 
 "God forbid I should either say or think so," rejoined Bocardo, 
 in an humble tone, " you are as intelligent as you are brave, Senor 
 Arroyo." 
 
 " Wife !" continued Arroyo, without appearing to listen to the 
 fulsome flattery of his associate, "go and interrogate once more 
 
248 THE TIGER-HUNTER 
 
 the prisoner we have taken. Find out, if possible, what errand lie 
 was on " 
 
 "The bird stiii sings the same tune,'' responded the woman : " he 
 repeats that he is in the service of Don Mariano de Silva; and that 
 he is the. bearer of a message to that mad Colonel, as you call him, 
 Don Rafael Tros-Villas." 
 
 At this hated name, the shade deepened upon the brow of the 
 bandit. 
 
 " Have you found out what this message is?'' he inquired. 
 
 "The fellow insists upon it that it is of no importance. What 
 do you suppose I found in his pockets when we were searching 
 hirn?" 
 
 "A vial of poison, perhaps !" 
 
 " No, but something equally droll. A packet carefully put up, 
 enclosing a small cambric handkerchief, sweetly scented with per- 
 fume, and inside, this a tress of hair, a woman's hair, long and beau- 
 tiful, by my faith!" 
 
 "Indeed !" exclaimed Bocardo, in a significant tone, "and what 
 have you done with it, Madame Arroyo?"' 
 
 "What should I have done with it l" said tie' virago, with a dis- 
 dainful toss of her head—'" what but fling it back in the face of the 
 messenger? — the worthless thing ! Mo doubt it is a love-token sent 
 to this colonel of the devil." 
 
 " The messenger took it back, then ?" 
 
 "Ah, indeed — with as much eagerness as if it had been a chain of 
 gold I" 
 
 "So much the better," said Bocardo, with a significant gesture. 
 " I have, an idea," he continued, " if I am not mistaken, a superb 
 idea! With this messenger, and this love-token, we can give the 
 Colonel Tres-Villas a rendezvous where, instead of meeting his 
 sweetheart, he may tumble into the middle of a score of our fellows, 
 who may take him alive without the slightest difficulty. The 
 thing's as good as done. Only put me in communication with this 
 messenger — and I'll answer for the rest ! What say you, Arroyo 1 ? 
 What shall we do with the Colonel Tres-Villas ?"' 
 
 " Burn 1 i n over a slow fire — roast him alive !" responded the 
 guerillero, with an expression of ferocious joy. 
 
 "But your wife will intercede for him?" ironic^'y added 
 Bocardo. 
 
 " Carrambo ! Yes !" exclaimed the hag, " to burn hir/ -nve^ the 
 slow fire, and roast him alive — that I. shall !" 
 
A REAL VIRAGO. 249 
 
 And with a hideous laugh she walked out of the tent to give place 
 to Gaspacho, who the next moment entered. 
 
 The courier thus named had all the appearance of an original char- 
 acter. He was tall and thin as the blade of a rapier, with a cynical 
 expression of countenance, and long snaky tresses of hair hanging 
 down over his shoulders, like thongs of smoked leather. 
 
 " Speak !" commanded Arroyo, as he entered. " Thou bearer of 
 evil tidings, what have you to tell us now]" 
 
 " Perhaps, Senor Captain," responded the brigand, who, notwith* 
 standing his habitual air of importance, was evidently cowed by the 
 scowl of his superior, " perhaps I have some good news as well V 9 
 
 " First then, deliver your bad ones !" 
 
 " Well, then, Senor Captain, there is not enough of us to take this 
 hacienda by assault. The den of coyotes has proved stronger than 
 we expected ; and 1 am sent to ask for a reinforcement of men." 
 
 " Who has sent you ? — Lieutenant Lantejas V 
 
 '•'Lieutenant Lantejas will never send another message. This 
 morning his head was nailed over the gate of the hacienda along with 
 that of Sergeant Yanez." 
 
 "Tripes of the fiend!" exclaimed the guerilla leader, "Yanez, 
 too!" 
 
 " Their heads are not the only ones, Captain. Besides them are 
 those of Salinas and Tuerto, to say nothing of Matavidas, Sacame- 
 dios, and Piojento, who were taken prisoners and hung alive by the 
 feet from the parapet of the building. We had to fire at them and 
 kill them with our carbines, in order to put an end to their suffer- 
 ings." 
 
 " They deserved it — a fig for their lives ! Why did fhey allow 
 themselves to be taken alive?" 
 
 " That's just what I told them," said Gaspacho, with an air of as- 
 sent. " 1 warned them that your honour would be very angry about 
 it. But they did not mind what I said for all that." 
 
 " So then there are now only forty-four of you laying siege to the 
 accursed place f 
 
 " Your pardon, Captain. I did not yet mention four others who 
 have been hung up by the necks. Upon those we were not obliged 
 to spend our powder — as they were dead already." 
 
 " Carajo /" vociferated the brigand with a furious accent. "Ten 
 of my men gone already ! Demonios ! Am I to lose this band 
 like the other ? Go on ! You have given me enough of ill news. 
 Let me hear some of what you call good ones !" 
 
 " Yesterday evening a horseman approached the hacienda riding 
 
250 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 towards it, as if he had nothing to do but present himself at the gate 
 and be admitted. Before getting near, however, he was seen by two 
 of our videttes, who at once charged upon him. After a fight in 
 which the horseman made a fierce resistance, he managed to escape. 
 
 " Carajo ! — the stupids !" 
 
 "Don't be angry with the poor fellows, Senor Captain. I assure 
 you they did not let him go without a struggle, which ended in one? 
 of them getting his shoulder fractured by a pistol-shot, and the other 
 having his horse fall under him. Pressed by the latter, the Royalist 
 horseman turned upon him, and rushing against his horse, brought 
 the animal to the ground. Then grasping the vidette by the collar, 
 he lifted him clean out of his stirrups, and dashed him to the earth, 
 as one would do a cocoa-nut to break its shell. It was full two 
 hours before the poor fellow came to his senses." 
 
 " I know only one man strong enough to accomplish that feat," 
 said Bocardo, turning pale — " the damned Colonel Tres-Villas. It 
 was Justin that way that he killed Antonio Valdez." 
 
 " It was Colonel Tres-Villas," added Gaspacho. " Pepe Labos is 
 sure of it. He heard the snorting of that strange horse — the same 
 he rode upon the day he came to Las Pal mas. Besides, Pepe recog- 
 nized his figure, and the sound of his voice — notwithstanding that it 
 was in the night. Ter. of our men have gone in pursuit of him, and 
 by this he ought to be taken." 
 
 " Holy Virgin !" exclaimed the guerilla chief, turning his eyes to- 
 wards heaven, I promise you a wax candle as big as a palm tree, if 
 this man falls into our hands !" 
 
 " As big as a palm tree !" exclaimed Bocardo in astonishment. 
 " Camarado, do you mean it V 1 
 
 "Hush!" said the other in a low voice. "Hold your tongue, 
 Bocardo ; it's only to humbug the Virgin !" 
 
 "Well," replied Bocardo, " whether they capture him or not, it 
 don't much matter. We shall take him all the same. If I understand 
 his history, and the meaning of the message which this coyote has 
 for him, he can be lured by it to the farthest corner of the earth." 
 
 At this moment the wife of Arroyo re-entered the tent, her face 
 exhibiting a still stronger expression of fury than before. 
 
 " The cage is empty !" cried she, " the bird has flown, and along 
 with it the guardian left to watch it — the worthless Juan de Za- 
 pote !" 
 
 "Blood and fire!" vociferated Arroyo, "quick, pursue them! 
 Hola !" continued he, raising the flap of his tent, " twenty men to 
 horse ! Scour the woods and tha river banks. Brine back the two fu- 
 
A REAL VIRAGO. 2oi 
 
 gitives bound hand and foot. Above all, bring them back alive!" 
 
 The order created a brisk movement throughout the camp, where 
 each seemed to compete with his fellow as to who should be the 
 first to enter on the pursuit. 
 
 " Je 'sirs Santo!" muttered Bocardo to himself, "if this Colonel 
 should escape, and also the messenger, adieu to all my fine combi 
 nations! Well!" he continued, after the wife of Arroyo had 
 gone oat of the tent to hasten the departure of the pursuers. 
 " Well: Senor Arroyo! if he should get away from us it will a great 
 pity sure enough. Still we shall find consolation at the hacienda 
 San Carlos." 
 
 " True," replied the other, " and 1 have need of some distraction 
 just now. This evening I mean to amuse myself. To-morrow we 
 shall storm the fortress of Del Valle with all our force ; and may 
 the devil scorch me, if I leave one stone of it standing upon an- 
 other !" 
 
 " Yes ; to-morrow let us set seriously about it," said Bocardo glee- 
 fully rubbing his hands together. " But see !" he continued, glanc- 
 ing out of the tent, " our fellows are ready to start. If you take 
 my advice, instead of twenty men, you'll send only i,en. That will 
 be quite sufficient to capture those two droll devils who have es- 
 caped from us. After you have sent the reinforcement to Del Valle 
 we'll have no great number of men to remain at head-quarters 
 here." 
 
 The guerillero chief yielded to the counsel of his associate ; and 
 choosing from the horsemen that were ready ten of the best mount- 
 ed, he directed them to enter upon the pursuit. The others were at 
 the same time ordered to proceed to the hacienda Del Valle to rein- 
 force the party already besieging the place. 
 
{52 THE TIGER-HUNTES. 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED RECEPTION. 
 
 From that portion of Gaspacho s report which related to Don "Ra 
 fael Tres-Villas, the reader will easily guess the purpose of the 
 eight horsemen assembled in the glade of the forest of Ostuta ; 
 they were no other than the soldiers who from the besieging party 
 had gone in pursuit of the Royalist Colonel. It will be remem- 
 bered, however, that ten was the number mentioned by Gaspacho, 
 while only eight now composed the group that occupied the clear- 
 ing. 
 
 We shall presently learn how their number became thus reduced, 
 but first let us recount the adventures of Don Rafael himself— 
 from the time of his quitting the camp of Huajapam, to the moment 
 when we find him asleep upon his arboreal couch. 
 
 As soon as the song of triumph raised by the soldiers of Trujano 
 had ceased to echo in his ears, Don Rafael proceeded to reflect upon 
 his own situation. He perceived at once that, in order to traverse 
 with safety some thirty leagues of a country almost entirely in the 
 hands of the insurgents, certain precautions would be absolutely 
 necessary. His gold-laced uniform, his helmet, all his equip- 
 ments, in short, would betray him to an insurgent enemy. More- 
 over he was badly armed — having broken his sword in the conflict ; 
 and for such a perilous journey it was necessary to be provided with 
 better weapons than a dagger and pistols. 
 
 He knew it was impossible to return to his marquee to re-equip 
 himself. The camp was already filled with the insurgent soldiers, 
 and no doubt his tent had been pillaged long before that time. 
 
 After a moment's reflection, it occurred to him that on the field 
 of battle — that part of it most distant from Huajapam, where Calle- 
 jas had sustained the fir&t shock of Morelos' army — he might find 
 
AN UNEXPECTED RECEPTION. 253 
 
 the necessary articles he desired ; and turning a little out of his 
 course, he directed himself thither. 
 
 His judgment proved correct.. A two-edged sword soon reward 
 ed his search ; and he was able to exchange for his dragoon helmet 
 the felt hat of an insurgent soldier, with a brass front-plate, bearing 
 in ill-formed letters the inscription. Independencia o muerte! 
 
 Scornfully tearing off the tablet, and trampling it under his feet, 
 Don Rafael placed the felt hat upon his head, and continued his ex- 
 plorations. Shortly after he exchanged the jaqueta of an insurgent 
 soldier for his cavalay uniform; and then looking to the state of his 
 pistols, and seeing that his cartridge-box was well garnished, he put 
 spurs to Roncador, and rode briskly away from the ground. 
 
 It is not necessary to detail the many precautions which he adopt- 
 ed from hour to hour to keep out of the hands of the insurgents, 
 who were on all sides scouring the country through which he had to 
 pass. 
 
 Suffice it to say, that for the most part he journeyed only by 
 night. Even travelling thus, he was not always safe ; and more 
 than once he found occasion to employ all the courage and presence 
 of mind with which Nature had endowed him. 
 
 On the evening of the third day, just at the hour of twilight, he 
 arrived in the neighborhood of his own hacienda. He was expect- 
 ing soon to be in security within its walls, when the two videttes al- 
 ready mentioned perceived and rushed forward to capture him. 
 
 This behavior was in conformity with the orders of Arroyo, who 
 had commanded that every one seen near the hacienda should be 
 made prisoner and brought into his presence. 
 
 Don Rafael was at first uncertain as to the enemy with which 
 he had to deal ; but he was not the man to submit tamely to con- 
 duct so brusque and uncourteous as was that of the videttes. His 
 resistance ended in putting both of them hors de combat ; but the 
 circumstances of the encounter, for certain reasons, had been some- 
 what misrepresented by Gaspacho. 
 
 It is true that one of the two soldiers had his shoulder fractured 
 by a shot ; but the bullet had also passed so near his heart that 
 the man was dead in an hour after. 
 
 As to the other, it was true that the Colonel dashed him to 
 the ground, as described ; but befcre doing so, he had taken the 
 precaution to plunge his dagger into the breast of this second ad- 
 versary . 
 
 Although he had left both deprived of the power to give the 
 alarm, unfortunately the report of his pistol betrayed his presence 
 
£54 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 to the guerilleros. In a few moments half a score of them were rid 
 ing in pursuit ; for, by the orders of their chief, one half their horses 
 were kept saddled and bridled both day and night. 
 
 After disembarassing himself of his two adversaries, the Colonel 
 had hesitated a moment, as to whether he should return on his path 
 or continue on to the hacienda. Jt was during this interval of hes- 
 itation that the pursuing horsemen drew near, and that one of them 
 (Pepe Lobes, by name) caught sight of and recognized him, while 
 the snorting of Roncador, as he galloped off, confirmed the guerille- 
 ro in his belief. 
 
 It is likely enough that the extreme hatred which Arroyo bore 
 for the Colonel was at this crisis the means of saving his life. The 
 guerilleros, knowing the desire of their chief that Tres- Villas should 
 be captured alive, reflected upon the rich recompense they might 
 expect, if they should so take him. Otherwise, the volley of car- 
 oine shots, which they would have delivered on the instant, might 
 have terminated the existence of their dreaded foe. 
 
 On seeing the horsemen, Don Rafael suddenly wheeled round 
 and galloped back as he had come. His hope lay in being able to 
 distance his pursuers, and afterwards find a temporary refuge in the 
 thick forest he had just been traversing, and through which ran the 
 road to Huajapam. 
 
 With this purpose in view, he returned along the route at full 
 gallop. 
 
 When he deemed himself at a sufficient distance in advance of 
 his pursuers, he wheeled suddenly from the road and headed his 
 steed into the thick underwood, through which he spurred onward, 
 until his passage was fairly blocked up by an impenetrable network 
 of vines and bushes. 
 
 Here he halted, and, dismounting, led his horse to a tree. He 
 then commenced groping about to find some spot where he might 
 in safety obtain a few hours of repose, after the fatigues he had en- 
 countered during the day. 
 
 A few paces further on he perceived a cedrela tree of gigantic di- 
 mensions, and so thickly loaded with leaves that it seemed to prom- 
 ise a secure hiding-place among the branches. Still apprehensive 
 that his pursuers might discover his track, Don Rafael resolved to 
 climb the cedrela, whose dark foliage would screen him from the 
 sharpest eyes. On approaching the tree, he perceived by the vast 
 circumference of its trunk that he could not climb up by embracing 
 it. Neither could he reach to even the lowest of its limbs. A 
 means, however, presented itself of getting over the difficulty. 
 
AN UNEXPECTED RECEPTION. 255 
 
 All enormous lliana, stretching from among the top branches, 
 reached the ground in a diagonal direction; and up this Dun Rafael 
 was enabled to make his ascent. 
 
 Placing his body between two huge boughs, he disposed himself, as 
 best he could, to pass the remainder of the night, leaving it for the 
 day to bring him to some further determination. 
 
 He commenced reflecting upon the pursuit. He was in hopes \ 
 that his pursuers, having lost his track, might separate into small 
 parties of two or three, in order the more thoroughly to scour the " 
 woods. In this case, he might be able to defeat the whole party, 
 taking them in detail, and favored by his own superior courage and 
 strength, in which he felt the most perfect confidence. 
 
 The night had alreadv advanced, and the moon from the high 
 vault of the starry heavens poured down her floods of light over the 
 spray of the forest. A few feeble raylets, penetrating through the 
 thick masses of foilage reached the retreat where Don Rafael had 
 hidden himself. 
 
 He remained for some moments listening attentively. He could 
 hear nothing — at least no sound that betokened the presence of hu- 
 man beings. The breeze sighing among the leaves, the distant howl 
 of the coyote, the sweet note of the mimic night thrush, or perchance 
 the rustling caused by the iguana as it scampered over the dead 
 leaves, were the only sounds that broke the stillness of the night. 
 
 The fresh balmy air that he was breathing, the shadow of night 
 that enwrapped him, the imposing tranquility that reigned around, 
 all conspired to beget the desire for repose. He felt his eyelids 
 gradually grow heavier and heavier ; and after awhile an invincible 
 torpor seized upon his whole frame. 
 
 Without being in any great degree uneasy about his situation, 
 Don Rafael nevertheless felt the necessity of keeping awake as long 
 as he might be able. With this intent he struggled for a time 
 against sleep, but in vain. Seeing that it was about to overpower A 
 him, he unwound the sash from his waist, and with this attached* 
 himself firmly to the branches. Having thus provided against the 
 danger of a fall, he surrendered himself the moment after to a pro- 
 found and silent slumber. 
 
256 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 A CARELESS SEARCH. 
 
 Most of the guerilleros of the band of Arroyo were country peo- 
 ple — rancheros, vaqueros, and the like. Many of them, from their 
 habits of life, were skilled in following the tracks of animals. It was 
 not likely, therefore, they should fail to discover the place where the 
 Colonel had turned off from the road ; and in reality they perceived 
 it, and there came to a halt. The uncertain light of the moon, how- 
 ever, hindered them from following his tracks through the under- 
 wood ; and, unable to guess the direction he had taken, they remain- 
 ed for some minutes deliberating on what was to be done. 
 
 To go forward in a body would be to diminish the chances of find- 
 ing his traces— more especially if they proceeded on horseback. It 
 was resolved, therefore, that all should dismount ; and, separating 
 into two's, thus scour the thicket in front. Afterwards, if unsuccess- 
 ful in their search, tney were to reunite in the glade where they had 
 picketed their horses. 
 
 This resolution was carried out, and in pairs the guerilleros scat- 
 tered off into the wood. 
 
 Although adopting all necessary measures of prudence, on account 
 of the terrible name of him they were in search of, at first the pur- 
 suers conscientiously performed their work. By little and little, 
 however, their ardour became abated, and then a very similar idea 
 presented itself to the minds of all of them at the same time. They 
 remembered how easily the Colonel had overcome his two adversa- 
 ries, the videttes ; and it now occurred to them that they had acted 
 very rashly in thus weakening their strength by division. 
 
 As it would never do to return at once to the appointed rendez- 
 vous, eath couple perceived the necessity of allowing some time to 
 elapse before going back, for the sake of saving appearances. They 
 continued the search, therefore, but rather by way of passing the 
 
A CARELESS SEARCH. 257 
 
 time than with any ardour in the accomplishment of their original 
 design. 
 
 " Carrambo ! what a lovely moon !" remarked Pepe Lobos to his 
 partner in the search ; " it gives me an idea " 
 
 " That the Colonel may see us before we discover him ?" interrupt- 
 ed his companion. 
 
 " Bah ! nothing of the kind," rejoined Pepe, " that devil of a roy- 
 alist is not to be found. What I was thinking of is, that, since it is 
 almost as clear as daylight, there's a good opportunity for your 
 showing me that which you have so long promised." 
 
 " What is it, comarado '?" 
 
 " The trick of cards by which one may si ways win an albur at 
 monte." 
 
 " Of course I cannot show you without having the cards." 
 
 " But I have them, hombre — a bran-new pack, too.'' 
 
 "Ah! it is easier to do that trick with an old pack," replied 
 Pepe's comrade with a knowing shrug of the shoulders. "Howev- 
 er, since I have promised you, and, as you jnstly remark, there is 
 no chance of finding this royalist colonel, I agree to your request." 
 
 The two insurgents seated themselves on the turf— in a spot 
 where the moon fell with a clear light — and Pepe Lobos, having 
 drawn a pack of cards from his pocket, the lesson commenced. 
 
 Between the ardour of the master and the docility of the pupil, 
 the lesson was prolonged to such a time, that the Colonel, asleep 
 between his two branches, could have dreamt all the dreams that 
 might present themselves to his imagination before either of these 
 worthies was likely to awaken him. 
 
 Not far distant two others of the searchers put in practice, as re- 
 gards Don Rafael, a very similar courtesy. 
 
 " So, Suarez," said the first of these two to the other, " five hun- 
 dred dollars, isirt it, that the Captain promises the man who may 
 take this royalist colonel alive ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Suarez, " five hundred dollars, and a good round 
 sum it is. But should one get an arm shot off or a leg disabled, in 
 capturing the demonio, will the Captain allow anything extra for 
 that, do you think ?" 
 
 " Ah ! I can't say. I should fancy so." 
 
 " Well, then, hear me, friend Suarez. I have no doubt it will be 
 a good thing ; and for you who are married, and have a family to 
 support, this five hundred dollats would be a windfall. I am single 
 and don't require it. I am therefore willing to surrender my 
 chance to you, and you can look for the Colonel by yourself.' 1 
 
VOS THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Saying this, the soldier stretched himself along the grass, and 
 disposed himself for a sleep. 
 
 " For the. last two nights," continued he, " I haven't had a wink, 
 and 1 can't keep my eyes open any longer. When you have cap- 
 tured the Colonel, come back and rouse me ; but whether you take 
 him or no, mind you, good Suarez, come this way and wake me be- 
 fore daylight — else I may sleep too long." 
 
 " Coward !" exclaimed Suarez, " I shall keep on without you and 
 get the reward for myself." 
 
 The answer to these remarks was a loud snore, for Suarez' com- 
 rade had fallen asleep on the instant. 
 
 Of the ten enemies of Don Rafael three had thus withdrawn them- 
 selves from the pursuit. 
 
 Two others, at no great distance off, held the following conver- 
 sation. 
 
 " Santissima /" exclaimed one, looking up to the sky. " Did 
 you ever see a moon so ridiculously clear? This royalist colonel, 
 if hidden about here, cannot fail to see us." 
 
 '* That would be unfortunate," rejoined the second. " If he 
 should see us, he would be certain to make off." 
 
 '• Ah ! hum !" muttered the first speaker, " I'm not so sure about 
 that ; he's not one of the kind that cares about making off. Have 
 you heard how he lifted Panchito Jolas out of his stirrups ?" 
 
 " Yes, I have myself had some falls from a horse, but when I 
 think of poor Jolas, it makes my blood run cold. Ave Maria! 
 Did you not hear something ?" 
 
 The two searchers stopped in their tracks and stood listening, 
 with far more fear in their hearts than could be in that of him for 
 whom they were searching. 
 
 It was only a false alarm, but it had the effect of causing them 
 to betray to one another the dread with which the fame of the Col- 
 onel had inspired them. 
 
 The mask thus removed, mutual confidence became established 
 between the two ; and both were equally agreed upon the prudence 
 of at once returning to the appointed rendezvous. 
 
 The other four pursuers continued to advance, but with such easy 
 nonchalance that in two or three hours afterwards, eight of the ten 
 had returned to the glade, — all equally unsuccessful in their 
 search ! 
 
 As to the two who were still missing — the reason for their ah. 
 sence was simple enough. 
 
 As soon as Suarez had parted from his somnolent companion, 
 
A CARELESS SEARCH. 259 
 
 the thought occurred to him that since the latter, only a single 
 man, was so careful of his life, he, being married, and with a fam- 
 ily, had still greater reason for being careful of his. Having given 
 his companion a proof of his courage, which had cost him nothing, 
 he resolved to imitate the latter in another respect. 
 
 After going a hundred paces farther, he also stretched himself 
 along the grass, and entered into the land of dreams — perhaps 
 dreaming of his wife ; and how upon lis bed of moss he was en- 
 ioying the good fortune of escaping from her ill-temper. 
 
 Before falling asleep, he had promised himself to awake at an 
 early hour, and, after rousing his companion, to abuse him for his 
 cowardice. 
 
 Unfortunately for Suarez, he reckoned without his host when sup- 
 posing he could awake himself — and both he and his partner slept 
 until long after the other eight had reassembled at the rendez- 
 vous, and commenced deliberating upon a more earnest prosecution 
 of the search. 
 
 The moon had already gone dow r n and the day was beginning to 
 dawn. The grey light falling upon the group of insurgent horse- 
 men — dressed in their half-military, half peasant costumes, soiled 
 and tattered by long campaigning — presented a tableau of the most 
 picturesque character. 
 
 Around the glade, their horses, tied to the trees, were endeavor- 
 ing to satisfy their hunger by gnawing at the leaves and twigs. 
 Even this miserable pasture was scarce attainable, on account of 
 the bitts which the animals still had in their mouths, and which 
 were heard constantly clanking between their teeth. 
 
 The eight insurgents had seated themselves in the centre of the 
 glade, and with their carbines resting across their knees, and their 
 daggers sticking in their boot tops, were listeningto the discourse 
 of Pepe Lobos. 
 
 "Suarez and Pacheco will never return," continued Pepe, in an- 
 swer to the conjectures of his comrades. " It is as good as certain 
 that this Colonel of Beelzebub has settled the affair with both — just 
 as he did with poor Panchito Jolas ; and since we have searched all 
 night without finding any trace " 
 
 " We explored our route with the greatest care," interrupted one 
 of the beaters who had exhibited the greatest dread of encountering 
 the Colonel. 
 
 " We have done the same," added Pepe Lobos. " Ask my partner 
 there. Although his trace has escaped our observation, it is evident 
 the Rovalist is somewhere in this wood — else what has become of 
 
200 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Suarez and Pacheco ? Yes, he is in it yet, be assured, and my ad- 
 vice is that we go back to the place where he left the main road, 
 and follow the track of his horse from there. That will be the 
 more likely plan to bring us to the place where he is at this 
 minute." 
 
 The other seven gave in their consent to this plan, and it was re- 
 solved that it should be carried into execution. 
 
 " As for the reward of five hundred dollars," continued Pepe Lo- 
 bos, " that's all very well. But I say vengeance before everything; 
 and we will do better to kill this fierce devil at once. A fig for the 
 bounty, say I !" 
 
 " Perhaps the Captain will pay one half, if we bring him in dead ?" 
 suggested one of the insurgents. 
 
 " When we have ascertained exactly where he is hid," continued 
 Pepe, without heeding the suggestion, " we can then seperate into 
 two parties of four each. One can approach from one side, and the 
 other party in the opposite direction. We shall thus have him be- 
 tween us ; and let whoever sets eye on him fire at him as at a mad 
 dog. That is the only way to make sure ; besides, if he should be 
 only wounded and we can carry him to camp with a little life in 
 him, we shall still be entitled to the reward." 
 
 The counsel Qf Pepe Lobos met with a universal approbation ; 
 and it was finally resolved that as soon as day had fairly broken, 
 they should all return to the main road and recommence the search 
 
 Just as the sun commenced gilding the lofty summits of the palm 
 trees, the eight guerilleros scattered themselves along the road to ex. 
 amine the hoof tracks, and if possible discover the point at which 
 Don Rafael had turned off into the woods. This was by no means 
 so easily accomplished : for the ground was now trodden by their own 
 horses in such a fashion that it seemed impossible to distinguish 
 which of the trails was that of the Royalist dragoon. A native of 
 Europe would have examined them in vain ; but to a vaquero of 
 Mexico, a gaucho of Chili, or in fact a native peasant of any part 
 of Spanish-America, it was a simple work of time and patience. In 
 fact, scarce ten minutes had passed, before Pepe Lobos called to his 
 comrades to announce that he had discovered the track they were in 
 search of. 
 
 Besides the hoof-prints of a horse, a twig broken from the branch 
 of a tree, and some fresh leaves of sassafras laurel lying upon the 
 ground, showed clearly the place where Don Rafael had passed 
 through the underwood. 
 
 After following his trail for some paces, all believed that the fir 
 
A CARELESS SEARCH. 261 
 
 gitive could not be far distant from the spot. The two parties were 
 then formed ; one to advance directly on the trail, the other to make 
 a circuit and enter the thicket from the opposite direction. 
 
 While the latter was executing the movement agreed upon, the 
 f > ir men who compose. 1 it came suddenly upon the horsemen whom 
 Arroyo hid sent in pursuit of Juan de Zapote and the fugitive mcs- 
 seu«-er. By their known watchword the two parties of insurgents 
 recognised each other ; and, after joining their Forces, they agreed to 
 separate again into three bodies, and thus advance towards the spot 
 where it was conjectured Don Rafael might be hidden. Four par- 
 ties were now closing in upon a common centre; and just in that 
 centre stood the great cedrela in which Don Ratael had ensconced 
 himself. 
 
 As all four were acting under a common understanding that the 
 Royalist Colonel was to be shot down upon sight, it will be perceived 
 that the position of Don Rafael was now one of imminent danger. 
 The very least misfortune that seemed to menace him would be to 
 have the opportunity to die sword in hand — fighting to the death; 
 for this would be far preferable to falling into the hands of his piti- 
 less foeman, the brigand Arroyo. With the Royab ft * Colonel it was 
 in reality a moment of extreme peril. 
 
262 
 
 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER L1X. 
 
 EL ZAPOTE AND GASPAR. 
 
 Just about the moment when Pepe Lobos and his comrades had 
 made their dispositions for advancing into the thicket, Don Rafael 
 awoke from his prolonged slumber. On first opening his eyes, the 
 glare of the sunlight so dazzled them, that he inquired of himself 
 where he was. Presently, however, objects appeared more distinct- 
 ly ; and he became aware of the extraordinary situation in which 
 he had placed himself. 
 
 He had scarce time for a single reflection, when his attention was 
 drawn to a rustling among the leaves at a short distance off; and, 
 looking diagonally downward, he perceived two men on foot advanc- 
 ing towards the cedrela. 
 
 On first awaking, he had felt such an extreme lassitude through- 
 out all his limbs, that he could scarce believe himself to have 
 slept as long as he had done. The height of the sun, however, pro- 
 claimed that he had slumbered for many hours. 
 
 Notwithstanding the strong desire he had to descend from hi3 
 uncomfortable couch, at sight of the two men he had prudently de- 
 ferred his intention. He took the precaution, however, to untie the 
 sash that bound him to the branches — doing this as gently as pos- 
 sible — while he kept his eyes fixed upon the new comers, who, to 
 say the least, presented a suspicious appearance. 
 
 The costume of both was odd enough, and altogether unsuited for 
 traversing such a thorny jungle as that through which they were 
 passing. It consisted merely of a shirt and cotton drawers — while 
 each of them carried in hand a large parcel. Although the night 
 had been dry throughout, the garments of both pedestrians appeared 
 saturated with water ! 
 
 Without the slightest suspicion that Don Rafael was in the tree, 
 or that any other human being was near, the two men were never- 
 theless moving with cautious steps. Now they looked to the right, 
 and then to the left, with quick earnest glances — as if they were 
 
EL ZAPOTE ANB GASPAR. 
 
 203 
 
 either searching for something, or in dread that an enemy might be 
 concealed in the bushes. 
 
 "These droll fellows/' said the Colonel to himself, "are either 
 searching for some one, or fear that some one is searching for them 
 —which of the two'?" 
 
 He watched them, listening attentively. 
 
 The same reasou which had induced Don Rafael to select this 
 part of the wood as a hiding-place — that is the impenetrability of 
 the thicket that surrounded it — seemed to have influenced in like 
 manner the two thinly-clad pedestrians. 
 
 " We had better stop here," said one to the other, as both came 
 U •* halt, " at least until we can put on our clothes again." 
 
 "Agreed," was the response ; " but we must make our stay as 
 short as possible : we should by this time have been far along the 
 road to Huajapam." 
 
 Each at the same moment untied the parcel which he carried, and 
 which consisted of his upper garments that had been kept dry. 
 Then stripping off their wet sliirts and drawers, they commenced 
 dressing themselves in their proper habiliments. 
 
 " So, amigo !" said the first speaker, pointing to a small packet 
 which the other had been carrying, " that you tell me, is worth its 
 weight in gold '?" 
 
 ' r Yes; and you shall soon find that you have nothing to regret 
 in helping me to escape, and sharing with me the douceur we shall 
 receive on presenting it. If we are only lucky enough to get away 
 from this neighborhood — I have no doubt they will pursue us." 
 
 • : We may be certain of that, eompadre ; but don't be uneasy 
 about their finding us. If we should fall into the hands of any of 
 those who are besieging Del Valle, trust me for getting clear of 
 them. As they are my comrades, and don't know yet that I have 
 run away, I shall be able to mislead them. I can tell them, that I 
 have been sent along with you, to receive the ransom of one of our 
 prisoners." 
 
 " What if they should carry us back to Arroyo's camp ?" 
 
 " Why, in that case we shall both be hanged. What matters it, 
 a little sooner or later — it is the common lot?" philosophically ad- 
 ded Juan el Zapote — for it was he, in company with the messenger 
 whom he had aided in making his escape. " Never mind, compa- 
 drito" he continued in a more cheering tone, "I shall do my best to 
 get you clear of the scrape anyhow." 
 
 "Santa Virgen /" mentally ejaculated the Colonel. " This droll 
 fellow, who thinks it is the lot of all men to be hanged sooner or 
 
2G4 THE TIGER-IIUNTTEVt 
 
 later, appears to be so sure of the fact, that it would not expose him 
 to much more risk to conduct me also to a safer harbour.'' 
 
 And m making this reflection, Don Rafael caught hold of the 
 liianas by which" ho had climbed up; and at the risk of leaving 
 some of his garments behind him, sprang out from between I he 
 branches, and dropped down between the two pedestrians with a 
 suddenness that stupefied them. 
 
 The man who was to pay so dear for the precious packet sent him 
 by Gertrudis, was now face to face with the messenger who bore it; 
 and yet neither of them knew the other! 
 
 " Hush !" said the Colonel, biking the initiative, " you have no- 
 thing to fear. 1 promise you my protection, but first lay down your 
 arms !" 
 
 Zapote had drawn his long dagger, and stood ready to use it 
 against the first enemy who came near, with that indifference pecu- 
 liar to one who believed in the rope or garrotte as the necessary 
 termination of his life. 
 
 But Don Rafael had at the same instant caught hold of his arm, 
 which he held with a grasp that proved he could also become as 
 terrible an antagonist as he might be a powerful protector. 
 
 " Who are you?" simultaneously inquired the two fugitives. 
 
 "Ah ! it might be indiscreet in me to tell you that," replied Don 
 Rafael. " J am a young man who has just sprung down from the 
 tree above you, as you may see by my hat still sticking up there 
 among the branches." 
 
 Without letting go his hold of Zapote, the Colonel raised himself 
 on his toes, and stretching his arm upwards, proceeded to disengage 
 the insurgent's hat from among the branches. 
 
 " So, amigos !" continued he, as soon as he had recovered his hat. 
 " You are fleeing from the guerilleros of Arroyo ! Well — so am 1. 
 That is enough for you to know at present. You are two and I only 
 one — but let me plainly tell you, if you do not make common cause 
 with me, J shall be under the necessity of killing you boih. Now 
 you may choose — yes or no !" 
 
 " Carrambo /" exclaimed Zapote, not ill-pleased with the frank, 
 off-hand manner of the stranger, '-what a capital trader you would 
 make with your round-a-bout way of coming co terms ! Well, cav- 
 allero ! what can we do for you ?" 
 
 "Pass me off with these fellows of Arroyo, as you are intending 
 to do your comrade here. Say that 1 am charged with the ransom 
 of a prisoner at the hacienda Del Yalle. and thus obtain for me 
 permission to pass the lines. If you do this I promise you a re- 
 
EI- ZAPOTE AND GASPAR, 4 2C>5 
 
 ompense, and since you are both about to share the bounty of some 
 one between you " 
 
 " Only a little commission," interrupted Zapote, " and if you knew 
 what it is " 
 
 " Oh, 1 have no intention of claiming my third in the reward — I 
 don't care to know what it is !" 
 
 " But you shall know, for all that," replied Zapote, apparently 
 carried away by an irresistible desire of giving his confidence. — 
 " Among friends, for we are so at present, there should be no con- 
 cealment." 
 
 " Well, then, what is it V inquired the Colonel. 
 
 " It is the will of a rich uncle in favor of a nephew who believed 
 himself disinherited, and to whom we are now taking it. You may- 
 fancy whether we have just grounds for expecting a good perqui- 
 site." 
 
 " Are you sure that the will is not a false one ?" inquired the 
 Colonel, not without suspicions as to the veracity of Zapote. 
 
 " Neither of us knows how to read," .replied the ex-guerillero, 
 w r ith an air of affected innocence. 
 
 " But take my word for It, cavallero," he hastily added, " we 
 had better get out of this place as quickly as we «can. We have al- 
 ready lost too much time." 
 
 " But my horse," objected the Colonel. " What's to be done with 
 
 him r 
 
 "Oh, you have a horse? Well, then, the best way is to leave 
 him behind — he will only embarrass you." 
 
 " He would certainly do so," interrupted the messenger, " if he 
 was like a horse I once knew. Ah ! that was a devil of an animal ! 
 If you had only heard " 
 
 The man was alluding to a horse he had once seen in the stables 
 of his master, Don Mariano de Silva, and which was no other than 
 Roncador himself. 
 
 He was about to recount the peculiarities of this famous steed — 
 which would no doubt have led to a recognition between himself 
 and Don Rafael — when his speech was interrupted by voices heard 
 in different directions, as if men were approaching the spot from 
 different sides. 
 
 Both Don Rafael and the messenger interrogated with anxious 
 regard the countenance of Zapote. 
 
 " Carrambo!" exclaimed the latter. "It may be more serious 
 than I thought." 
 
 The voices had now broken forth into shouts and cries — as if ut- 
 
266* THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 tered by men engaged in a chase ; and the sounds expressed a sort 
 of vengeful resolve on the part of those who uttered them not to 
 show mercy or give quarter. 
 
 El Zapote looked for some moments with fixed gaze upon the 
 royalist fugitive, who, with the felt hat of an insurgent, the jacket 
 of an infantry soldier, and the pantaloons of a dragoon officer, pre- 
 sented a somewhat motley appearance. 
 
 " You are a man who has just dropped down from a tree," said 
 he. " I will not deny that fact; but if you are the only one about 
 here, I should say there is a royalist in this wood, that these fellows 
 are about to hunt to death." 
 
 " On my side, I shall be frank with you," answered Don Rafael. 
 " You have guessed rightly — I am in the King's cause." 
 
 "These shouts," continued Zapote, rt the meaning of which I un- 
 derstand full well, denote that there is a royalist hidden in these 
 woods, who is to be taken dead or alive. Have the men who are 
 pursuing you ever seen you V 
 
 " I killed two of their number yesterday evening — there were 
 others who no doubt saw me." 
 
 " Then there is no hope of my being able to pass you off as an 
 ordinary prisoner, like my companion here, who is neither royalist 
 nor insurgent." 
 
 " It is very doubtful, to say the least," remarked Don Rafael, in 
 a desponding tone. 
 
 "Altogether impossible, but I can. promise you one thing, how. 
 ever, that we shall not betray you should we fall in with thesei 
 pursuers. Moreover, I shall endeavor to throw them off your scent, 
 for I am beginning to tire of this brigand life of theirs. On one 
 condition, however." 
 
 " Name it," said the Colonel. 
 
 "That you will permit us to part company with you. I can do 
 nothing to save you — you know it — while you may only ruin us, 
 without any profit to yourself. On the other hand, your fate has 
 become in a manner linked with ours, and to abandon you in the 
 midst of danger would be a baseness for which I could never par- 
 don myself." 
 
 There was in the words of Zapote an accent of loyalty, which 
 moved the colonel to admiration in spite of himself. 
 
 " Have no care for me," resolutely rejoined Don Rafael. " Go 
 which way you please without me, and I hope," he added, with a 
 smile, " that you will reach that nephew you speak of, and safely 
 deliver to him his uncle's will !" 
 
EL ZAPOTE AND GASPAft. 2<>7 
 
 "After all, amigo" he continued in a more serious tone, " 1 have 
 but little reason to care for life more than yourself. A little soon- 
 er or a little later, what matters it? Only," added he, smiling, " 1 
 should not exactly fancy to be hanged." 
 
 " Thanks for your permission that we should part from you," 
 said Zapote, " but, Senor Cavallero, a word before you go. If you 
 take my advice, you will climb back into that tree where no one 
 will suspect your presence." 
 
 "No," interrupted Don Rafael. "Up there I should be as a ja- 
 guar pursued by hounds — without the power to defend myself, and 
 I am like the Indians, I wish on entering the other world to send as 
 many enemies before me as possible." 
 
 " Well, then, do better still, make towards the river ; keep due 
 south from this place, and on reaching the banks of the Ostuta, you 
 will see a vast thicket of bamboos — in which my comrade and my- 
 self have just found a refuge, and where we might have remained 
 safe from enemies till the day of judgment, had we not to go for- 
 ward on our errand. If you can only succeed in reaching the bam- 
 boos, you are saved." 
 
 Saying this, El Zapote, followed by his companion, turned his 
 face northward, and striking off into the ^jiicket, both were soon lost 
 to Don Rafael's sight. 
 
208 THE TIGER-HUNTEB. 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 THE FUGITIVES IN DANGER. 
 
 El Zapote and his confrere, the messenger, after making a wide 
 detour through the forest, came out on the Iluajapam road. 
 
 Their intention was to journey on to Iluajapam — where they sup- 
 posed the royalist army still held the place in siege, and where they 
 expected to find Colonel Tres-Villas, to whom the messenger had 
 been sent. Little did either the ex-guerillero or his companion sus- 
 pect that it was the colonel himself from whom they had just 
 parted. 
 
 " By my faith !" remarked the messenger, as they journeyed along, 
 " it's a pity now that we did not ask that gentleman his name. It 
 is likely enough that he is some grand officer belonging to the 
 royalist army." 
 
 " Bah !" replied Zapote. " What good would it be to us to know 
 his name? He's a lost man, I fear. It matters little, therefore, 
 what name he carries." 
 
 ' l Quien Sabe?" doubtingly rejoined the messenger. 
 
 " I am more vexed," continued Zapote, " that we were not able to 
 do any thing for him. It can't be helped, however ; and just now, 
 let me tell you, my brave Gaspar, that we have got to look out for 
 ourselves. We are yet far from being out of danger." 
 
 The two men pursued their route, gliding silently and cautiously 
 under the shadow of the underwood. 
 
 Scarce ten minutes had elapsed when they again heard the voices 
 of those who were beating the wood in search of the hiding-place of 
 Don Rafael. Both stepped behind a screen of bushes and listened. 
 In the midst of a profound silence, they heard the crackling of 
 branches ; and the moment after a man appeared at a short distance 
 from where they stood. He was advancing with stealthy step, 
 carbine in hand, and almost at the same instant two others made- 
 
THE FUGITIVES IN DANGER. 209 
 
 their appearance, coming up behind him, and moving forward with 
 like caution. 
 
 All three were stealthily gliding from tree to tree — making a 
 temporary rampart of the trunks, as they reconnoitred the ground 
 before them. 
 
 One of these men was recognized by Zapote as an old comrade. 
 " Eh, Perico !" cried he, speaking lou< J . enough to be heard by the 
 men. 
 
 " Hola ! Who calls me ?" responded Perico. 
 " I— Juan el Zapote." 
 
 "Zapote! how is it that you are here? Where did vou come 
 from?" 
 
 " From the camp," replied Zapote, with wondrous impudence. 
 
 " Our Captain has sent " 
 
 " Oh! the Captain knows, then, that we are in pursuit of a roy- 
 alist who has taken shelter in the chapparal? We have had a time 
 of it after him, and he's not found yet. We have scoured the 
 thicket all the night in search of his hiding-place; and, out often ot 
 us who came after him, eight only remain. Two, Suarez and Pache- 
 co, he has killed somewhere; but if I may judge by the signal cries 
 to which we have responded, there should be at least twenty of our 
 comrades at present looking after him." 
 
 At this moment another man joined company with the three al- 
 ready on the ground. Fortunately for Juan el Zapote and the mes- 
 senger, these four were precisely the same whom Pepe Lobos had 
 ordered to go round by the Huajapam road, and as they had not 
 yet been in communication with the party from the camp, they were 
 ignorant of the faet that their old comrade, Zapote, was himself be- 
 ing pursued as a deserter. " Well," continued Zapote, " as I was 
 saying, our Captain has sent me on an errand with my companion, 
 Gaspar, here ; and we are in the greatest haste." 
 " What errand 1 ?" demanded Perico. 
 
 "Carrambo/ A secret mission; one that T daren't disclose to 
 you. Adlos, amiyo ! 1 am in a terrible hurry." 
 
 "Before vou go," cried one of the men, "tell us if you saw any- 
 body ?" 
 
 "Saw anybody ? Who ? The royalist you are in search of?" 
 " Yes ; the mad Colonel." 
 
 " No ; I met no mad colonel," said Zapote, turning away. 
 "Eh! hombre?" exclaimed Perico, with a significant glance j 
 " make it appear you arc ignorant that it is the Colonel Tres-Villas 
 
270 THE TIGER -HUNTER. 
 
 we are pursuing ? You know that well enough. You wish to 
 capture him alone, and get the five hundred dollars to yourself?" 
 
 "Colonel Tres-Villasl" cried Zapote and the messenger in the 
 same breath. 
 
 " Five hundred dollars reward !" exclaimed Zapote the instant 
 after, raising his hand to his head, as if about to pluck out a fistful 
 of his hair. 
 
 " Certainly, that same : a grand gentleman, with black mousta- 
 chios, a felt hat of the same colour, a soldier's infantry jacket, and 
 gold- laced cavalry pantaloons." 
 
 "And he has killed two of our people f 
 
 " Four. Since Suarez and Pacheco have not returned, we may 
 also reckon them as dead men." 
 
 Zapote no longer doubted that the man from whom they had just 
 parted was he to whom they were bearing the message of Gertrudis 
 de Silva, in other words, Colonel Tres-Villas. He exchanged a sig- 
 nificant glance with the messenger. 
 
 For a moment the new resolution of honesty made by the ex- 
 bandit wavered upon its foundation, still but weakly laid ; but the 
 mute appealing glance of Gaspar, and the remembrance of the 
 promise of fidelity he had just made, conquered the instinct of cu- 
 pidity that had momentarily been aroused within him. 
 
 " Well — we have neither met nor seen any one," he remarked dry- 
 ly ; "but we are losing our time. Actios!" 
 
 " Vete con dios /" (God be with you), responded Perieo. 
 
 Zapote and Gaspar, saluting the others, walked away — going at a 
 moderate pace so long as they were in sight of the insurgents ; but 
 as soon as they were behind the bushes advancing with all the speed 
 in their power. 
 
 Their object now was to put themselves as distant as possible 
 from the danger ; since their projected journey to Iluajapam was 
 no more to be thought of. When they had got to such a distance as 
 not any longer to fear pursuit, Zapote flung himself down upon the 
 grass with an air of profound disappointment. 
 
 " What are we to do now ?" inquired Gaspar, in a lugubrious 
 tone. 
 
 Zapote, overcome by his emotions, made no reply. A^out a 
 minute after, however, he sprang suddenly to his feet, as if some in- 
 teresting idea had occurred to him. 
 
 " A grand idea !" he exclaimed, " a superb idea !" 
 
 11 Ah ! What is it ?" 
 
 " Listen, cam a rado ! I am known to those who are laying siege 
 
THE FUGITIVES IN DANGER. 271 
 
 to the hacienda Del Vail'.; you are known to those who defend it, 
 Well, we shall thus be able to get in. Onee inside, you ean pass 
 me off for one of tlrj servants of your master, Don Mariano 
 de Silva." 
 
 "That might be possible, my dear Zapote," naively answered 
 Gaspar, " It' it were not for your devil of a physiognomy." 
 
 " Never mind that. J* shall alter ic to suit the occasion. You 
 shall see. All I ask is, that if 1 extricate the Colonel from his pres- 
 ent dillemma, I am to have a reward of a thousand dollars. I risk 
 my life for it ; and the sum would be only a fair one. 1 shall take fifty 
 men, and deliver him from danger. As to your message, he will 
 pay for that separately, and you may have all the bounty to your- 
 self." 
 
 " It would be a great stroke of business, if we could so manage 
 it,' 1 assented Gaspar. 
 
 "You see, after all," philosophically remarked the ex-bandit, 
 " that honesty is the best policy." 
 
 " But suppose the Colonel should be taken prisoner, or killed 1" 
 suggested Gaspar. 
 
 '• We must take the chance of that. If he be, we shall endeavour 
 to capture Arroyo. In either case, I ought to have a reward ; and, 
 cost what it will, I mean to try for one." 
 
 " It is possible," again suggested Gaspar, " the Colonel may be 
 able to reach the bamboo brake on the river bank. If so, we might 
 still be in time to save him." 
 
 " In less than two hours we can get back here with the men to 
 rescue him. They can easily make a sortie from Del Valle, now 
 that nearly all the others are scouring the forest. Quick, then, let 
 us make for the hacienda." 
 
 Excited by the hope of being able to accomplish theft design, the 
 two adventurers started off, gliding through the thicket as rapidly 
 as they could make their way in the direction of the hacienda Del 
 Valle. 
 
CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 ESCAPING THE TOILS. 
 
 Left to himself, Don Rafael calmly considered the cireumstan' 
 ces that surrounded him. He could not help feeling a conviction 
 that his chances of escape were of the most doubtful kind, and that, 
 unless some unforeseen accident should favour him, he had but a 
 very poor prospect of being able to extricate himself from the dan- 
 ger that threatened. Such an accident he had no reason to 
 expect. 
 
 The sun was now high in the heavens, and his bright beams pen- 
 etrating through the foliage, illuminated even the darkest labyrinths 
 of the forest. It would be eight or nine boms before he would set 
 again; for it was near the summer solstice when the days of the 
 year are longest. 
 
 Don Rafael now regretted having slept so long. Had he awoke 
 before sunrise, there might still have been time to have secured his 
 retreat. He farther regretted not having declared his name and 
 rank to the two men who had just parted from him. It was possi- 
 ble that by the offer of a large recompense, he might have induced 
 them to attempt making an entrance into the hacienda Del 
 Valle, and w'arning Lieutenant Veraegui of his perilous situ- 
 ation. 
 
 He was far from suspecting at that moment that a providential 
 chance was about dmng for him the very thing which his rt (lection had 
 now too late suggested he should have done before. 
 
 Notwithstanding the danger in which he was placed, Don Rafael, 
 who had not eaten for many long hours, began to feel hungered. 
 This, however, gave him but little concern, since in the tropical 
 forests of Mexico, the anona, the corosollo, the aguacate, and other 
 fruit-bearing trees, yield spontaneously their delicious produce, 
 sufficient for the sustenance of human life. 
 
 These reflections once made, Don Rafael was not the man to 
 waste time in vain regrets. He resolved to act at once. 
 
ESCAPING THE TOILS. 273 
 
 He hesitated only an instant to reflect upon what he should do 
 with his horse. At first he thought of abandoning him, but then it 
 occurred to him that while passing along his tortuous track through 
 the chapparal, the animal might prove useful. He might serve as 
 a sort of moveable rampart, behind which he could shelter himself 
 from the bullets of the carbines that might be fired by his assailants. 
 Moreover, should he succeed in getting clear of the thicket, by fling- 
 ing himself in the saddle, he would still have a chance of escape, 
 through the superior swiftness of Roncador. For this reason he de- 
 cided upon going in search of the horse. 
 
 The thicket in which he had hidden him was at no great distance 
 from the cedrela ; and finding his own traces, Don Rafael returned 
 on them with stealthy tread. The silence that reigned throughout 
 the forest was for the moment profound, and he knew that the 
 slightest sound, even the snapping of a stick, might betray his pres- 
 ence to some lurking foe. 
 
 He had advanced only a few paces, when a vague clamour of 
 voices reached his ear. He listened for some seconds, but as the 
 voices did not appear to come any nearer, he again moved 
 forward. 
 
 At length he succeeded in reaching the thicket where Roncador 
 had been left. The poor animal, though devoured by thirst — and 
 suffering from hunger as well — had made no effort to free himself 
 from his fastenings. He was still standing by the tree to which 
 Don Rafael had attached him. At the approach of his master, he 
 uttered a joyous neigh. 
 
 Notwithstanding the fear which Don Rafael had that the noise 
 might be heard by his pursuers, he could not help feeling a joyful 
 emotion at being thus saluted by his old companion in many a 
 scene of peril ; and while caressing the horse, he felt a certain re- 
 morse at the role he had just designed him to play. It was, how- 
 ever, one of those crises, when the instinct of self-preservation is at 
 variance with the desire of the heart. 
 
 Leading his steed by the bridle, Don Rafael advanced as rapidly 
 as was possible through the labyrinth of bushes and climbing plants 
 that thickly covered the ground. The sun occasionally coming in 
 view, enabled him to guide his course towards the south — the di- 
 rection which Zapote had counselled him to take. 
 
 The advice given by the latter seemed to Don Rafael worth fol- 
 lowing. If he could only pass through the line of those seeking 
 for him, and reach the cane-brake on the Ostuta, he might there con- 
 ceal himself until after sunset. By night he might again attempt 
 
274 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 to ent«r the hacienda, and with a better chance of success ; since 
 he was now aware of its being surrounded by the insurgent gueril- 
 leros. 
 
 In order to give him more freedom in his movements, he cast 
 away his sword-belt and scabbard ; and with the bare blade in one 
 hand, and his bridle-rein in the other, he continued to advance as 
 silently as possible. He had determined to make use of his pistols 
 — only as a last resource. 
 
 It was not long, how r ever, before ho was forced out of his direct 
 course — not by the thickness of the jungle, but on hearing in front 
 of him the voices of several men. These calling to one another, 
 appeared to be directing a movement amon<j themselves, as if advanc- 
 ing towards him in an extended deployment. 
 
 Singly, each of those who were approaching would have caused 
 Don Rafael no more uneasiness than does the solitary hunter the 
 lion who reluctantly retreats before him; but it, was evident from 
 the number of voices that a large party of men were in the wood ; 
 and should they all fall upon him simultaneously, there would bo 
 no alternative but to succumb. He therefore renounced the desper- 
 ate idea that for a moment had occured to him ; of rushing upon 
 the nearest, and putting an end to him without noise. 
 
 He perceived, at the same time, that, in the midst of the dense 
 chapparal where he then was, a resolute man would have a decided 
 advantage over enemies who were so scattered, and who were con- 
 stantly warning him of their whereabouts as they advanced; wdiilo 
 'he, keeping silence, left them ignorant of his own. 
 
 The men were evidently getting nearer, and Don Rafael heard 
 their voices with anxiety. He listened also to hear if any others 
 replied to them in the opposite direction ; since in that case he 
 would be in danger of being surrounded. He knew not the number 
 of his enemies ; but he could tell by the sounds that their cordon 
 had not yet been completely drawn around him, and there might still 
 be a chance of escaping from it. 
 
 While thus listening, with all the eagerness of a man whose life 
 was depending on the acuteness of his hearing, a noise reached 
 him, which he knew was not made by a human being. It was the 
 distant and sonorous tapping of a woodpecker upon the trunk of a 
 dead tree — a sound often heard in the depths of an American forest. 
 The sound fell upon his ear like the voice of a friend. It seemed 
 to say that, in the direction whence it proceeded, no human creature 
 would be found to trouble the solitude of the fore -t. 
 
 The hint was sufficient for one skilled in vuuu-ioro. as Don Ra- 
 
ESCAPING THE TOILS. 275 
 
 fael was. Without a moment's hesitation, he faced in the direction 
 of the sound, and commenced advancing towards it — guided by the 
 measured strokes given by the beak of the bird. 
 
 lie was stiil at some distance from the dead-wood, where the 
 woo ipecker v. as employed seeking its loud, when the bird perceiv- 
 ing him flew off amidst the trees. 
 
 Don Rafael now halted, and once more bent his ear to listen. To 
 his joy he perceived that the voices of the searchers had receded to a 
 distance. This proved that he had passed out of their way ; and, 
 if they should not find reason to return on their tracks, his chances 
 of escape were becoming more favourable. 
 
 To make more sure of not being followed, he adopted a ruse which 
 he had learnt during his Indian campaigns. Taking up two dry sticks 
 of guaiacum wood, he struck one against the other, thus producing 
 a sound that resembled the tapping of the woodpecker's beak ; and, 
 after repeating this for a number of times, he returned by a detour 
 to the same direction from which he had been forced on hearing the 
 voices. 
 
 After a half hour's advance through the thicket, he halted to re- 
 fresh himself by eating some fruits of the pawpaw that grew by the 
 path. Their juicy pulp served for a moment to satisfy the craving 
 of both appetites — relieving at the same time both hunger and 
 thirst. 
 
 Mid-day had already passed, and the sun was beginning to fling 
 his rays obliquely through the branches, when Don Rafael resumed 
 his route ; and shortly after, through the last straggling trees of the 
 forest, he perceived the crystal current of the Ostuta running its 
 tranquil course between banks thickly covered with tall bamboos. 
 
 The breeze blowing freely over the water stirred the long lance- 
 like leaves of the gigantic canes; among whose moveable stems the 
 caimans had sought protection from the hot sun, and were awaiting 
 the freshness of the night to return to the channel of the river. 
 Here, too, like them, was Don Rafael to find an asylum that would 
 shelter him till surset. 
 
 He was not long in choosing a place of concealment. The selv- 
 age of the forest through which he had come, extended to within a 
 few paces of the bamboo brake ; and, crossing the intervening space 
 as rapidly as possible, the fugitive plunged in among the canes. 
 
 Once hidden by the gigantic reeds, he felt more secure ; and had 
 now an opportunity to reconnoitre to some extent a portion Of the 
 surrounding neighborhood. From certain large rocks, which he 
 saw lying in the mid-channel of the stream, lie recognised the place, 
 
276 THE TIGER-IIUMEB. 
 
 and knew that he was not far distant from the ford of the Ostuta — ■ 
 where, two years before, the pursuit of Arroyo and his brigands had 
 more than once conducted him. He saw, moreover, on the oppo- 
 site side of the stream, the rude tent of the guerillero chief, and the 
 horsemen of his band galloping up and down the bank. The sight 
 aroused all his fiery passions, and he could not restrain himself from 
 raising his clenched hand, and stretching his arm in menace across 
 the water. 
 
 Ail at once he heard shouts behind him, and the trampling of 
 horses. These sounds were caused by the party sent in pursuit of 
 him by Arroyo, and who were now returning to the camp. It need 
 not be said that they had been unsuccessful, as they brought back 
 with them, instead of the Colonel and the two runaways, only 
 Suarez and Pacheco, still alive and well, but terribly frightened. 
 
 For better security, Don Rafael advanced still further among the 
 bamboos, carefully parting them with his hands a> he moved for- 
 ward ; and the horsemen, though they rode past along the bank, 
 only a short distance from where he was concealed, had not the 
 slightest suspicion their enemy was so near. The most sharp- 
 sighted eye could not have discovered his place of concealment. 
 
 Still continuing to listen, he heard the plashing of the horses as 
 they forded the crossing: and a few minutes after a profound 
 silence reigned over the scene. ~* 
 
AN UNWILLING EMBASSADOR. 27? 
 
 .'- 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 AN UNWILLING EMBASSADOR. 
 
 On the afternoon of that same day — a little after the time when 
 Don Rafael buried himself among the bamboos — the ex-student of 
 theology, accompanied by Costal and Clara, was riding along the 
 Huajapam road, at no great distance from the ford of the Ostuta. 
 When near to this famous crossing, the three halted ; and while 
 their horses were picking up a little grass, Costal kept on a little 
 further a-foot — for the purpose of reconnoitring the ground upon the 
 banks of the river. 
 
 Meanwhile Clara busied himself in roasting, over a fire he had 
 kindled, some green ears of maize corn, which, with a few pieces of 
 dried beef (cecitia), were to constitute the dinner of the party. 
 Clara had taken the materials from his alforgas. 
 
 After an interval of silence, the Captain commenced a conversa- 
 tion with the object of making to the negro a communication 
 evidently deemed by him of some importance. 
 
 " Listen to me, Clara !" said he ; " we are intrusted with a com- 
 mission which 1 need not tell you will require us to act with the 
 greatest circumspection. I need not tell you that our carrying to 
 this Captain Arroyo the threats of the General is a sufficiently dan- 
 gerous errand. No more need I assure you that to enter the town 
 of Oajaca is of a similar character. There the Royalists think no 
 more of the head of an insurgent, than you of one of those ears of 
 corn that you are roasting in the fire. What I wish of you, then, is 
 — that you will drop the bad habit you have of calling me by the 
 name of Lantejas ; which, up to the present time, has brought me 
 nothing but ill fortune. It was under that name I was proscribed ; 
 and I beg of you, therefore, that, for the future, both you and Cos- 
 tal will know me only by the name of Don Lucas Alacuesta. This 
 last is the name of my mother's family, and it will serve my pur- 
 pose as well as any other." 
 
 " Enough said, Captain," rejoined the negro ; " 1 shall not forget 
 
278 THE TIGER-HU NTER. 
 
 to obey your orders — even though I should have the axe of the 
 executioner raised over my neck." 
 
 " I am satisfied you will not. Meanwhile, until Costal returns, 
 you may serve me with some of those morsels you are roasting, 
 which seem to be done enough. I amoving of hunger." 
 
 "And I too," added the negro, casting a greedy glance towards the 
 cecina. 
 
 Clara spread out before the Captain his saddle-cloth to serve as 
 a napkin ; and, taking some pieces of the broiled meat from the 
 coals, placed them upon it. To this he added two or three of the 
 roasted ears. Then, seating himself close to the fire, he drew 
 from the ashes the remaining portions of meat, and commenced 
 eatin^ with an earnestness that was likely to prove fatal to Costal's 
 share in the banquet. 
 
 " Ho !" cried the Captain, " if you continue on in that fashion, 
 your comrade Costal will be likely to go without his dinner." 
 
 " Costal will not eat before to-morrow," replied the negro in a 
 grave tone. 
 
 "That I can easily believe," assented Don Cornclio. "There 
 will be nothing left for him to eat, I fancy." 
 
 "You misunderstand me, Senor Captain. To-day is the third 
 after midsummer, and to-night the moon will be at the full. That 
 is why Costal will not eat, in order that by fasting he may prepare 
 himself to hold communion with his gods." 
 
 " You fool ! Do you believe in the wretched fables of the pagan 
 Costal r 
 
 " I have reason to believe them," gravely replied the negro. 
 " The God of the Christians dwells in the sky ; those of Costal in- 
 habit the Lake of Ostuta. Tlaluc, the god of the mountains, lives 
 on the summit of Monopostiac ; and Matlacueze his wile, the god- 
 dess of the water, bathes herself in the waters of the lake that 
 surround the enchanted mountain. The third night after the sum- 
 mer solstice — at the full of the moon — is the time when they show 
 themselves to the descendants of the caciques of Tehuantepec — to 
 such as have passed their fiftieth year — and Costal intends to invoke 
 them this very night." 
 
 As Don Cornelio was about endeavoring to bring the negro to a 
 more rational religious belief, Costal strode silently up. 
 
 "Well," said the Captain, " is our information correct? Have 
 you learnt whether Arroyo is really encamped on the banks of the 
 Ostuta?" 
 
 " Quite true," answered the Indian, " a peon of my acquaintance, 
 
AN UNWILLING EMBASSADOR. 2?9 
 
 jrhom I chanced to meet, has told me that Arroyo and Bocardo are 
 by the ford, where they intercept the passage of all who come this 
 way. It is close by, so that this evening yon can deliver your 
 message. After that is done, I would ask leave of absence for 
 Clara and myself for the night. We wish to spend it on the shore 
 of the Sacred Lake." 
 
 "Hum!" muttered Don Cornelio, without noticing the request. 
 " So near!" continued he, speaking to himself, and abruptly ceasing] 
 to eat. " What else did your peon acquaintance make known about" 
 Arroyo and Bocardo?" 
 
 "Only that they are more thirsty than ever — the one for blood, 
 the other for plunder." 
 
 Costal imparted this information in a tone but little calculated to 
 inspire the Captain with a relish for his mission. 
 
 He endeavored to conceal his uneasiness, however ; and, raising 
 his voice to a tone of assumed boldness, he inquired : — 
 
 " It is to the ford of the Ostuta, then, we are to go?" 
 
 " Yes, Senor Captain, whenever it pleases your honour to move 
 forward." 
 
 " We have plenty of time," replied Don Cornelio, evidently re- 
 luctant to make any further advance. " I wish to take a few hours 
 of rest before going thither. And your old master, Don Mariano 
 de Silva — did you hear any thing of him ?" 
 
 " Yes. He has long ago left the hacienda Las Palmas, and is 
 living in Oajaca. As to that of Del Valle, it is still occupied by 
 the Royalist garrison." 
 
 " So then we have enemies on all sides of us ?" rejoined the 
 Captain. 
 
 " Arroyo and Bocardo," said Costal, " should scarcely be enemies 
 to an officer bearing dispatches from the General Morelos. As for 
 Clara and myself, we are that sort whom these bandits never 
 frighten." 
 
 " I agree with you there," rejoined the Captain, ''certainly I do 
 — meanwhile — nevertheless — 1 should prefer — ah! who is that 
 horseman who is galloping in this direction, carbine in hand?" 
 
 " if one may judge the master by the servant, and if this fellow 
 chances to have a master, that master ought to be one of the great- 
 est rogues on earth." 
 
 As Costal was delivering this figurative speech, he stretched 
 forth his hand and seized hold of his own old and trusty piece. 
 
 The horseman in question was no other than Gaspacho — th« 
 
280 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 courier who had brought to Arroyo the evil news from the hacien- 
 da Del Valle. 
 
 He rode forward as one rides in a conquered country ; and with- 
 out making any obeisance addressed himself to the Captain — who, 
 from being a white, appeared to him the most considerable of the 
 three strangers. 
 
 "Tell me, friend—- •" said he. 
 
 " Friend !" cried Costal, interrupting him, and evidently ill pleased 
 with his looks, " a captain in the army of General Morelos is no 
 friend to such as you." 
 
 " What does this brute of an Indian say ?" demanded Gaspacho, 
 regarding Costal with an air of contempt. 
 
 The eyes of Co-tal fairly blazed with rage; and his movements 
 promised for Gaspacho a terrible chastisement, when Don Cornelio 
 interposed to prevent it. 
 
 " What is your wish ?" asked he of the follower of Arroyo. 
 
 "To know if you have seen anything of that rascal, Juan de 
 Zapote, and his worthy companion, Gaspar?" 
 
 " We have seen neither Zapote nor Gaspar." 
 
 "If they're not found, then, my friend Perico — who met and 
 permitted them to pass him — is likely to spend a most uncomforta- 
 ble quarter of an hour — when he appears in the presence of our 
 Captain Arroyo." 
 
 " Ah ! you are in Arroyo's service then ?" 
 
 " I have the honour." 
 
 " Perhaps you can tell me where I shall be most likely to find 
 him." 
 
 " Quien Sabe ? By the ford of the Ostuta you may find him — if 
 he's not gone elsewhere — to the hacienda of San Carlos, for 
 example." 
 
 " This hacienda does not belong to the royalists, then?" inquired 
 the Captain. 
 
 " Perhaps I may be mistaken," ironically answered Gaspacho.— 
 " In any case, if you w T ish to see the Captain, which rather astonish, 
 es me — you will have to cross the ford all the same ; and there yon 
 may hear of his whereabouts. My faith ! that is a splendid cloak 
 you have got on your shoulders It appears a mile too big for 
 you ; and looks as if it would just fit a man of my dimensions." 
 
 On saying these words, the bandit put spurs to his horse and 
 galloped off — leaving Don Cornelio with an unpleasant impression 
 upon his mind, caused by his ambiguous speeches and the admira/ 
 tion the stranger had expressed for his cloak. 
 
AN UNWILLING EMBASSADOR. 281 
 
 " I fear we have fallen among wicked people here," he said ad- 
 dressing himself to Costal. " You see how little this ragged fellow 
 makes of an officer of Morelos; and doubtless his master will make 
 still less. Well — we must be prudent, and wait until night before 
 we attempt to go forward among them." 
 
 " Prudence is not always a bad substitute for courage," remark' 
 ed Costal, with a shrug. " We shall do as you desire, Senor Cap- 
 tain ; and I shall be careful we do not fall either into the hands of 
 the royalists, or those of the followers of Arroyo, before arriving 
 in the presence of that gentleman himself. Otherwise, I might lose 
 the one peculiar day of my life, that 1 have so long looked forward 
 to. Trust to me. 1 think you can say that I never let you re- 
 main long in a dangerous situation V 
 
 " You are my providence," cried the Captain, with friendly 
 warmth. "It is true; and it will always give me pleasure to ac- 
 knowledge it." 
 
 " No, no," interrupted Costal, " what I may have done for you is 
 not worth talking about. Meanwhile, we will act wisely to take a 
 wink of sleep — Clara and myself more especially ; since, during all 
 this night, we shan't have another opportunity to close our eyes." 
 
 " You are right — I perfectly agree with you. Let us all have some 
 sleep then." 
 
 As the sun was still hot, Clara and Costal stretched themselves 
 under the shadow of a spreading tree, and both with that indiffer- 
 ence to danger to which a life of adventures had habituated them, were 
 soon buried in profound slumber: during which the negro was con- 
 stantly endeavoring, in dreams, to capture the Siren with disheveled 
 hair, and force her to reveal to him some rich placer of gold. 
 
 As for Don Cornelio, he lay for a long time awake; anxious 
 and apprehensive about the result of his approaching interview with 
 the guerilla chief. At length imitating the example of his two 
 compagnons de voyage, he also fell asleep. 
 
282 THE TIOEK-IIUNTEK. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 THE TALISMAN TRANSMITTED. 
 
 It was only after a long and desperate effort to subdue the pas- 
 sion with which Don Rafael Tres-. Villas had inspired her, that Ger- 
 trudis de Silva resolved upon making use of the talisman she had 
 so carefully preserved — that message, which Don Rafael had sworn 
 to obey without a moment's hesitation — even though it should reach 
 him on the instant when his hand was raised to strike down his most 
 mortal enemy. 
 
 When the young girl at length reluctantly yielded to the determi- 
 nation of once more seeing Don Rafael, her first emotion was one of 
 profound pleasure. She could not convince herself of the fact, that 
 her former lover could now be indifferent, or that from his mouth 
 she should hear the avowal that he no longer loved her. She be- 
 lieved that the message would convey to him a happiness similar to 
 that she herself felt in sending it; and it was for this reason, and 
 also the better to secure his fidelity and zeal, that she had led the 
 messenger to expect a magnificent reward, on the accomplishment 
 of his errand. Under the critical circumstances in which the mes- 
 senger found himself, after setting out from Oajaca, it was well that 
 such a golden lure glistened before his mental vision — else the pre- 
 cious talisman might have stood less chance of arriving at its desti- 
 nation. 
 
 On the departure of the messenger, Gertrudis felt as if inspired 
 with new life ; but this joyful state was but of short duration. Doubt 
 soon took the place of certainty. Between herself and her lover 
 more than one misunderstanding had arisen, all the result of impe- 
 rious circumstances. She. was no longer loved — this was her reflec- 
 tion. The distant proof she had for awhile believed in — the affair 
 of Aguas Calientes — was perhaps only a wild freak on the part of 
 
THE TALISMAN TRANSMITTED. 283 
 
 the Colonel ; and if he no longer loved her, it was because he loved 
 another. 
 
 Moreover, her messenger would have to traverse a country dis- 
 turbed by civil war, and there was every chance of his failing to 
 accomplish his mission. This doubt also added to the torture she 
 was undergoing. 
 
 Overcome by such sad thoughts, and at times devoured by black 
 and bitter jealousy, her heart was lacerated to the extreme of endur- 
 ance. Her cheek had paled to the hue of the lily ; while the purple 
 circle round her eyes told of the mental agony the young Creole was 
 enduring. 
 
 In this condition was she when Don Mariano set out on the jour- 
 ney from Oajaca — only three days after the departure of the mes- 
 senger Gaspar. 
 
 The fond father beheld with apprehension the extreme melancholy 
 that had taken possession of his daughter ; and, convinced of the 
 inutility of the efforts he had already made to cure her of her passion 
 for Don Rafael — by representing the latter as unworthy of her — he 
 had altogether changed his tactics in that regard. He now endeav- 
 ored to extenuate the faults of the Colonel; and, in the place of an 
 accuser, became his benevolent champion. 
 
 " The nobility and frankness of his character," Don Mariano 
 would say, " is enough to set aside all suspicion of his perfidy. His 
 silence may be explained by the events through which he has been 
 involuntarily borne, and by the political relationships that surround 
 him." 
 
 Gertrudis smiled sadly at the words of her father, but her heart 
 was not the less torn with grief. 
 
 In this unpleasant state of mind they passed three days, while 
 journeying from Oajaca to the borders of the lake Ostuta. On the 
 route they had met with no particular adventures nor encountered 
 any obstacle ; though from rumors that reached them from time to 
 time — of the sanguinary deeds perpetrated by the ferocious Arroyo 
 — they could not help experiencing a certain amount of apprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 It was on the third evening of the journey that they reached the 
 Ostuta river and had halted upon its banks at the spot already de- 
 scribed. During the night Don Mariano, rendered uneasy by hear- 
 ing certain confused noises in the adjoining forest, had dispatched 
 one of the trustiest of his servants in the direction of the crossing, 
 with directions to reconnoitre the place. 
 
 Two hours afterwards the domestic returned, with the report, that 
 
284 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 near the ford he had seen numerous fires blazing along the bank of 
 the river and on both sides of the ford. These could be no other 
 than the fires of Arroyo's camp ; since they had heard several times 
 along their route, that the brigand was encamped at the crossing of 
 the Ostuta. 
 
 The servant added, that in returning from his recorihoissance he 
 was under the belief that some one had followed him, as clogging his 
 steps through the forest. It was for this reason that Don Mariano 
 had caused the fires of his bivouac to be extinguished, and had so 
 suddenly taken his departure from the place. 
 
 By going some distance down the river, and making the circuit of 
 the lake into which it flowed, the servant of Don Mariano believed 
 he could find a crossing, by which they might reach the hacienda of 
 San Carlos on a different road. Although this detour would make 
 their journey nearly one day longer, it would still be preferable to 
 falling into the company of Arroyo and his brigands. 
 
 Among all the places in America, sacred to the worship of the 
 native races, perhaps none enjoys a greater celebrity than the lake 
 of Ostuta, and the mountain which rises up out of the bosom of its 
 waters. 
 
 The mountain is called Monopostiae, or the Cerro enrantndo (en- 
 chanted hill). Jt has long been the locale of Indian tradition; and 
 the singularly lugubrious aspect of the lake and its surrounding 
 scenery would seem to justify the legendary stories of which it has 
 been made the scene. It was to the borders of this lake, that the 
 necessity of seeking his own and his daughter's safety, was now con- 
 ducting Don Mariano de Silva. 
 
 The journey proved long and arduous. The feebleness of Gertru- 
 dis would not permit her to travel fast, even in her easy litera ; and 
 the bad state of the roads, which would scarce admit the passage of 
 the mules, contributed to retard their advance. 
 
 It was near midnight before they came within sight of the lake, — 
 its sombre waters suddenly appearing through an opening in the 
 trees. At the point where they approached, it was bordered by a 
 thick forest, whose dark shadowy foilage promised them an impene- 
 trable asylum where they might pass the night safe from discovery 
 or pursuit. 
 
 In this forest Don Mariano resolved to make halt, and wait until 
 the light of day might enable him to discover the crossing by which, 
 his servant had assured him, they might reach the bye-road leading 
 to the hacienda of San Carlos. 
 
X.ANTEJAS BEHEADED. 285 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 LANTEJAS BEHEADED. 
 
 The short interval of blueish light between daybreak and sunrise 
 in the tropics was nearly over when Captain Lantejas and his two 
 trusty followers climbed into their saddles to proceed towards the 
 ford of the Ostuta. A difficulty yet lay in the way of their reaching 
 it: since, before gaining the river it would be necessary for them to 
 pass within sight of the hacienda Del Valle, and they might be seen 
 as they supposed, by the sentinels of the royalist garrison. As yet 
 the three travelers were ignorant that the place was blockaded 
 by the guerilla of Arroyo. 
 
 " If we were to pass it by night," said Costal, " it would look 
 more suspicious. Better to go in full daylight. Clara can ride 
 ahead of us. Jf any one stops him, he can ask permission for a 
 merchant and his servants who are travelling southward. If, on the 
 other hand, he sees no one, he may ride on ; and we can follow him 
 without further ceremony." 
 
 The advice was to the liking of the Captain ; and they accordingly 
 commenced advancing along the road that would conduct them past 
 the hacienda. 
 
 In about a quarter of an hour they arrived in front of it, near the 
 end of the long avenue already mentioned. Costal and Don Cor* 
 nelio halted at some distance behind while Clara rode forward ; and, 
 to make sure that no one was there, even entered the avenue it- 
 self. 
 
 Not a human being could be seen. The place appeared deser- 
 ted — all was silent as upon that night when Rafael rode up to the 
 house to find only desolation and death. 
 
 Still further to guard against surprise, Clara rode on up the av- 
 enue ; but he had scarce gone a hundred paces from the main road 
 
280 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 when a soldier appeared behind the parapet of the hacienda, evi- 
 dently watching his approach. 
 
 The black seeing that he was discovered kept on straight for tho 
 building. 
 
 The distance hindered Don Cornelio and Costal from distinguish 
 ing the words that passed between Clara and the sentry; but they 
 could sec that the latter was pointing something to the black which 
 was to them invisible. What ever the object was, it appeared to 
 excite the risible faculties of the negro : for, distant as he was, they 
 could distinctly hear him laughing. 
 
 Meanwhile the sentinel disappeared, and as Clara continued to in- 
 dulge in his hilarity, it was evident he had obtained the permission 
 asked fur. At all events, Don Cornelio and Costal regarded his be- 
 haviour as a good omen. 
 
 Nevertheless he seemed to hesitate about returning to the road ; 
 and instead of doing so, the moment after he made signs to Don 
 Cornelio and Costal to advance up the avenue. 
 
 Both instantly obeyed the invitation ; and when they had arrived 
 near the walls, Clara, still shaking his sides with laughter, pointed 
 out to them the object which had given origin to its mirth. 
 
 On beholding it, Don Cornelio believed that his eyes were deceiv- 
 ing him. In truth the spectacle, to which he was thus introduced, 
 had very little in it to justify the merriment of the black. In place 
 of the heads of wolves and other noxious animals, which may 
 often be seen nailed up against the walls of country houses, here 
 there were three human heads ! They were not yet desiccated, but 
 appeared as if freshly cut off from the bodies to which they be- 
 longed. 
 
 " Wretched man !" cried Don Cornelio, addressing himself to 
 Clara, " what is there in such a sight to excite your gaiety ?" 
 
 " Carrambo /" exclaimed the negro, answering to the reproach 
 by a fresh burstof laughter, — then, in a whisper, he continued, point- 
 ing to one of the heads, — 
 
 " Senor Captain, don't you see 1 One of the heads is yours !" 
 
 " Mine V muttered the ex-student, suddenly turning pale, though, 
 as he felt his head still upon his shoulders, he believed that the ne- 
 gro was only mocking him. 
 
 " So the sentry has just told me," affirmed Clan, " but Senor 
 Captain, you who know know how to read may satisfy your- 
 self." 
 
 As the negro spoke he pointed to an inscription, that appeared 
 over one of the heads. Don Cornelio, despite the gloomy shadow 
 
LANTEJAS BEHEADED. 287 
 
 which the tall cypresses cast over the wall, was able to rend the in- 
 scription : " Esta es la eabeza del bisurgente Lantejas." (This is the 
 head of the insurgent Lantejas.) 
 
 It was in reality the head of an insurgent of the same name as 
 Don Cornelio himself — one of Arroyo's followers, who. as already 
 known, by the report of Gaspachio, had been captured during a sor- 
 tie of the beseiged. 
 
 Don Cornelio turned his eyes away from the hideous spectacle 
 presented by the head of his namesake ; and anathematising 
 once more the unfortunate name which he had inherited from his fa- 
 ther, made all haste to ride off from the spot. 
 
 In proportion as the distance between him and the hacienda in- 
 creased, his terror became diminished, and at length ended in a mel- 
 ancholy smile at the odd coincidence of the encounter with his be- 
 headed homonyme. 
 
 But the profound silence that surrounded him as he journeyed 
 along, and the knowledge that in a few minutes he would find him- 
 self face to face with the redoubtable guerillero, once more imbued 
 the mind of the Captain with the darkest presentiments. 
 
 Without permitting his companions to suspect the sentiments 
 that were troubling him, he would willingly have proposed deferring 
 for another day his interview with the bandit chief. Both Costal 
 and Clara, however, as they rode along by his side, presented an 
 appearance of such stoical indifference to danger, that he felt 
 ashamed of showing himself less brave than they, and thus restrain- 
 ed he continued to travel on in silence. 
 
 Shortly alter, they came in sight of the river, and at the same 
 time could command a view of the banks on both sides of the ford. 
 Don Cornelio became reassured at the sight. Neither horse, horse- 
 men nor tent was to be seen. 
 
 Noisy and bustling as the place had been in the morning, it was 
 now in the evening completely silent and deserted. Not a trace 
 remained of the encampment of Arroyo — save the smouldering bivou- 
 ac fires, and the debris of various articles that lay scattered over the 
 ground. 
 
 " It" i know," said Costal to the Captain, " how to pick the truth 
 from the lies which that scurvy fellow has told us — he Avho took 
 such a marvellous fancy to your cloak — I should say we are on the 
 road that will guide us to the man you are in search of. He is at 
 this moment, I venture to say, at the hacienda San Carlos — notwith- 
 standing the droll humbug appeared to make such a mystery of his 
 whereabouts.'* 
 
288 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " But suppose the hacienda San Carlos to be occupied by a Span- 
 ish garrison ?" suggested the Captain. 
 
 " Let us first cross the river," said Costal. "You can remain 
 on the other side with Clara, while 1 go forward and make a recorr 
 noisanee." 
 
 This proposition was agreed to by D'>n Cornelio, and the three 
 travellers having forded the stream, Costal prepared to separate 
 from them. 
 
 " Be cautious, good Costal," said Lantejas. " There is danger on 
 every side of us." 
 
 " For me and Clara," remarked the Indian, with an ironical smile, 
 "one who has already lost his head should have nothing more to 
 fear, Senor Captain." 
 
 Saying this, Costal went off at a trot, leaving the Captain and 
 Clara on the bank of the river. 
 
 The Indian had scarce passed out of sight, when a plunging in the 
 water announced that horses were crossing the ford. 
 
 Looking around, Don Cornelio beheld two horsemen riding out 
 on the. bank where he and Clara had halted. One of them carried 
 behind him a pair of canvas alforjas, which appeared to have some 
 large roundish objects inside. 
 
 Merely exchanging a brief salute, the horsemen were passing on, 
 when the Captain, in hopes of obtaining some information from 
 them, inquired if the hacienda of San Carlos was far distant. 
 
 " No," replied one, " only about a quarter of a league." 
 
 "Are we likely to be well received there?" further asked Don 
 Cornelio. 
 
 " Ah !" replied the second horseman, " that depends " 
 
 The muttered voices, and the distance which he had already gain- 
 ed, hindered Don Cornelio from perceiving the tone of irony in 
 which he spoke, but almost at the same instant the speaker eleva- 
 ted his voice to a high pitch, though only the last words were heard 
 with distinctness. 
 
 These were " Mejico e independencia." 
 
 The phrase was well known to Don Cornelio. 
 
 " What word came before it ?" inquired he of his companion, 
 ' viva, was it not ? ,r 
 
 " No, it was muera^ replied the negro. 
 
 " You are mistaken, I think, Clara." 
 
 ' No, [ repeat it — it was niuera /" 
 
 Not having inquired from the horsemen whether San Carlos was 
 
 
DON CORNELIO A CAPTIVE. 28t> 
 
 in the power of the royalists or insurgents Dun Cornelio remained 
 as undecided upon that point as ever. 
 
 A considerable time passed, and still Costal did not return. 
 
 "Suppose I gallop forward a bit," suggested Clara, "and see 
 whether I can meet him ?" 
 
 The Captain having become uneasy about the prolonged absence 
 of Costal, assented to this proposition ; but at the same time direct- 
 ed the black to return in a quarter of an hour, if Costal did not make 
 his aooearance within that time. 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 DCN CORNELIO A CAPTIVE. 
 
 Almost as soon as Clara had ridden out of sight, Don Cornelio 
 began to count the minutes. The quarter of an hour appeared a 
 whole one ; and when it had passed, with no signs of either return- 
 ing, he became more than uneasy — he felt alarm. 
 
 In order to create some distraction for his thoughts, he rode gently 
 forward — on the same path by which his two companions had gone. 
 Not meeting either, he kept on for another quarter of an hour. Be- 
 coming still more alarmed, he was about to make a halt, when he 
 saw lights that seemed to go and come along the summits of the 
 trees that appeared at some distance before him. These lights had 
 flashed into view at a turn in the road. 
 
 On looking more attentively, he perceived that the ground sloped 
 up from the place which he occupied ; and he was now enabled to 
 distinguish the outlines of a vast building, the windows of which 
 were so brilliantly illuminated from the inside, that one might have 
 fancied the house to be on fire. Outside upon the azotea, blazing 
 torches appeared to be carried backward and forward. It was these 
 that had at first attracted the eye of Don Cornelio, who on account 
 of the elevation at which they were seen, fancied them to be moving 
 among the tops of the trees ! 
 
 There was something too unnatural in these blazing torches, agita- 
 ted by the night breeze — but more especially in the strange lights 
 that shone through the windows — now red, now blue, and then of a 
 pale violet colour, and in an instant changing from one hue to anoth 
 
°,90 TIIK TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 er — something so fantastically singular that Don Cornel io suddenly 
 drew up, without daring to advance a pace further. 
 
 The superstitious ideas with which Costal had entertained him 
 during their journey now came into his mind; and despite his dis- 
 belief in them, he could not help conjuring up fancies almost as ab- 
 surd. He remembered the bull fulminated against the insurgents 
 by the Bishop of Oajaca — representing them as spirits of darkness 
 — and he began to fancy there was some truth in it, and that lie was 
 now within view of these very demons. The silence that reigned 
 around tended to strengthen this fancy — which was now further con- 
 firmed by the sight of a phantom like figure clothed in white, seen 
 for a moment gliding among the trees, and then as suddenly vanish- 
 ing out of sight. The phantom appeared to have come from the 
 direction of the illuminated building — as if fleeing from some danger 
 that there menaced it. 
 
 The Captain made the sign of the cross, and then sat motionless 
 in his saddle, uncertain whether to remain where he was, or to gal- 
 lop back to the ford. 
 
 While thus irresolute, and asking himself whether the phantom he 
 had seen might have been a stray reflection of one of the torches, 
 the lights all at once disappeared from the upper part of the build 
 ing. 
 
 At the same moment four or five horsemen issued forth from the 
 shadow of the walls, and galloped towards him, uttering loud yells. 
 Don Cornelio perceived that his presence was discovered ; hut to 
 put this beyond doubt, a light at the moment flashed up among the 
 horsemen, followed by the report of a carbine, and the hissing of a 
 bullet, which passed close to his ears. 
 
 He no longer hesitated as to whether he should stand or fly. The 
 bullet was sufficient cue for flight ; and, wheeling round, he set off in 
 full gallop towards the river. 
 
 Trained by the misfortunes which had occurred to him, from the 
 mistaken economy of his worthy father, Don Cornelio had ever since 
 felt an aversion to second-rate horses, and on the present journey he 
 had taken care to have a good one. Knowing the fact, he had fair 
 hopes of being able to distance his pursuers. Driving his spurs 
 deeply into the ribs of his horse, he permitted his animal to choose 
 its own course — so long as it carried him in a direction opposite to 
 that from which he was pursued. 
 
 Forgetting all about Costal and Clara, he rode away like tl.e 
 wind j and, in all likelihood, would have got clear beyond the reach 
 
DON CORNELIO A CAPTIVE. 201 
 
 of his pursuers, but for an unforeseen misfortune. In passing a 
 gigantic cypress his horse stumbled upon its projecting roots, and 
 came head foremost to the ground — flinging his rider out" of 1 ha 
 saddle with such force that, but for the softness of the spot on wljich 
 he fell, some of his bones would undoubtedly have suffered frac 
 ture. 
 
 He was but little damaged by the fall, and, before he could get 
 to his feet, and recover his horse, one of the pursuers had ridden up, 
 and casting a lazo, noosed him round the body 
 
 To whom was the Captain a prisoner? 
 
 Of this he was completely ignorant, still uncertain as to who were 
 in possession of the hacienda. As soon as he had regained his feet, 
 however, a voice cried out, interrogatively, " For Spain, or the 
 Independence ?" 
 
 Before making answer, Don Cornelio looked up. Half-a-dozen 
 men had arrived upon the ground, and encircled him in their midst, 
 forming a menacing cordon around, him. Of one and all the aspeci 
 was sinister and doubtful. 
 
 "Spain, or the Independence'?" repeated the voice, in a more 
 threatening tone. 
 
 Thus brusquely called on to proclaim his colours, the Captain. 
 not knowing those of the party who surrounded him, hesitated to 
 make answer. 
 
 "Very well, cavallero !" cried one of the men, " answer or not, as 
 you please. No doubt of it," he continued, addressing himself to a 
 comrade, " this fellow is in company with the other two. Brin$ 
 him along to the hacienda !" 
 
 At these words one of his captors seized Don Cornelio by th< 
 arm, and commenced dragging him towards the illuminated 
 building. 
 
 " Hold !" cried the first speaker, as, under the glare of the distant 
 lights, he saw that their prisoner was neither negro or Indian. 
 " For Dlos ! this fellow is white." 
 
 " Red, black, and white !" added another. " We want only a 
 mestizo to complete the collection." 
 
 From these speeches Don Cornelio conjectured that his comrades, 
 Costal and Clara, had already been captured by the same party who 
 were making him their prisoner. 
 
 He was still ignorant, however, as to whether his captors were 
 royalists or insurgents; and, before proceeding further, he deter- 
 mined v if possible, to settle that question. 
 
21)2 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 "What do you want with mc ?" lie inquired, in the hope of ob» 
 tabling some clue in the answer. 
 
 "Not much," replied the spokesman of the party. "Only to 
 nail your head in the place of that of Lantejas !" 
 
 " Lantejas I" exclaimed Don Cornelio, inspired with a fresh hope. 
 " That is my name. It is I who am the insurgent Lantejas, sent 
 here to Oajaca, by General Morelos." 
 
 The declaration was received with a hurst of savage laughter. 
 
 "Demonio !" cried one of the guerilleros, coming up with the 
 horse of Don Cornelio, "I have had trouble enough in catching this 
 accursed brute. It is to be hoped he carries something to repay mo 
 for it." 
 
 Don Cornelio fancied he knew the tone of this voice, but he had 
 no time to reflect upon where he had heard it, before its owner again 
 cried out, " Alabado sea Dios ! (Blessed be the Lord !) there is my 
 cloak !" 
 
 Don Cornelio recognized the man who the day before had taken 
 such a fancy to his cloak. In a word, the speaker was Gaspacho. 
 
 " What a lucky fellow I am to meet you again," continued the 
 brigand; "that cloak is much too large for you. 1 told you so 
 yesterday." 
 
 "Such as it is, it satisfies me," meekly responded the Captain. 
 
 "'Oh! nonsense," rejoined Gaspacho, at the same time throwing 
 off his own tattered serape, and making a significant gesture to Don 
 Cornelio to uncloak himself. 
 
 The latter hesitated to comply with this rude invitation ; but 
 almost on the instant Gaspacho snatched the garment from his 
 shoulders, and coolly wrapped it round his own. 
 
 "Now, amigo," cried one of Gaspacho' s confreres, " surely a man 
 without a head has no need of a hat? Yours appears as if it would 
 just fit me," and saying this, the bandit picked the hat from Don 
 Cornelio's head, at the same time flinging his own battered sombrero 
 to the ground. 
 
 As there was nothing more upon the person of the prisoner 
 to tempt the cupidity of the brigands, the lazo was unloosened from 
 around his arms, and he was ordered to accompany his captors to 
 the hacienda. This he did willingly enough : for the presence of 
 Gaspacho told him that he was in the hands of the guerilleros of 
 Arroyo. 
 
 " Can I see the Captain ?" he inquired. 
 
 " What Captain 7" 
 
 " Arrovo." 
 
DON COKNELIO A CAPTIVE. 2§8 
 
 "Ah ! you wish to see him ?" responded Gaspacho. "That rather 
 surprises me. You shall have the pleasure of seeing him soon 
 enough, 1 fancy. Come along !" 
 
 The gueriileros continued on to the house, conducting their pris- 
 oner along with them. 
 
 As they drew near to the walls, the attention of Don Cornelio 
 was again attracted to the singular lights that seemed to he burning 
 within the house. It could not be the flame of a conflagration, else 
 the building would long since have been consumed. 
 
 A few minutes brought them up to the gate. It was shut, and 
 one of the men gave utterance to a password, which Don Cornelio 
 did not understand. What he did comprehend was, that the mo- 
 ment had come when, boa gre mal gre, he was called upon to acquit 
 himself of the commission with which Morelos had entrusted him. 
 
 It often happens that danger in prospective is more dreaded than 
 when it is present ; and so was it in this instance : for, on his arrival 
 at the gate, Don Cornelio felt less embarrassed with apprehensions 
 than he had been ever since his departure from the camp at 
 Huajapam. 
 
 The huge door turned upon its heavy hinges to admit the horse- 
 men — in the midst of whom the prisoner was carried into a large, 
 paved courtyard, illuminated by the flames of several fires that 
 burned in the open air. Around these fires could be distinguished 
 the forms of men — to the number of one hundred or more — grouped 
 in different attitudes, or lying asleep upon the pavement. Along 
 the walls stood as many horses, completely equipped for the road. 
 The bridles only were off, and hanging suspended over the saddle- 
 bow — in order that the animals might consume their rations of 
 maize, served to them in wooden troughs. Here and there, stacks 
 of carbines, lances, and sabres, glanced under the light of the fires, 
 and Don Cornelio could not help shivering with terrror as he looked 
 upon these fierce bandits, in the midst of their picturesque accoutre- 
 ments. 
 
 Most of them remained as they were, without offering to stir. 
 The sight of a fresh prisoner was nothing new to them. One only 
 coming forward, asked Gaspacho, in a tone of indifference, what had 
 taken him out at that hour of the night. 
 
 "Well !" exclaimed the cloak-robber in reply. " They say that 
 the mistress of the hacienda has escaped by a window. Her hus- 
 band says she is absent. I don't care whether it's true or not. All 
 I know is, that we can see nothing of her without; and we should 
 have returned empty handed, if good fortune hadn't thrown into oar 
 
2U4 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 hundjs this gentleman here. I have no doubt he is a royalist spy, 
 since he wanted to pass himself off for our old comrade — the 
 Lieutenant Lantejas." 
 
 "Ah !" rejoined the other, " he would ill like to be Lantejas just 
 now." 
 
 And as the man said this he returned to the fire, which he had for 
 the moment forsaken. 
 
 The captors of Don Cornelio were soon lost amidst the groups of 
 their associates — Gaspacho alone staying to guard him. 
 
 Only a few seconds did the cloak- robber remain in the courtyard ; 
 after which, making a sign to his prisoner to follow him, he com- 
 menced reascending the stone escalera that led to the second store/ 
 uf the building. 
 
THE COLONEL OF COLONELS. 2\)ii 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 THE COLONEL OF COLONELS. 
 
 The da7 upon which these various events took place was anything 
 Diit a happy one for Arroyo. It appeared to him as if the reappear- 
 ance in the neighborhood of his deadliest foe, Don Rafael Tres Vil- 
 las, had been the signal for the series of disappointments which had 
 occurred to him. 
 
 Ten of his followers had fallen in a sortie of the besieged, besides 
 two more killed by the hand of Don Rafael — who had himself 
 escaped, as well as the prisoner Gaspar and the deserter, Juan el 
 Zapote. 
 
 The bloodthirsty disposition of the guerilla chief had been 
 strengthened by these disappointments, and in order to give 
 solace to his vexed spirit, he resolved to possess himself of the haci- 
 enda of San Carlos without further delay. 
 
 In addition to the wicked desires — which the promptings of Bo- 
 cardo had excited within him — there was another reason urging 
 him to carry out this design. 
 
 The hacienda of San Carlos with a little labor, could be converted 
 into a fortress of considerable strength, and. such as he might yet 
 stand in need of. 
 
 He saw that he had miscalculated the power of resistance of the 
 royalist garrison of Del Valle, and, still ignorant of its real strength, 
 he deemed it better to call off the besieging force until after the 
 taking of San Carlos. Then he could go back with his whole band 
 and make a determined assault against the place. 
 
 He had, for these reasons, ordered the besiegers to return to 
 
296 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 camp, and, striking his tent, had inarched with all his followers to 
 the capture of San Carlos. 
 
 This will explain why Don Cortielioaiid his companions had been 
 able to pass the hacienda Del Valle — and afterwards the ford of the 
 Ostuta — without seeing anything of Arroyo or his band — Gaspachu 
 alone excepted. 
 
 Numerous as were the servants of Don Fernando Lacarra — the 
 proprietor of San Carlos — their master did not for a moment dream 
 of making resistance. It would have been worse than useless against 
 an experienced guerilla, numbering in all above a hundred men. 
 At the first summons, therefore, the gates of the hacienda were open- 
 ed to Arroyo and his followers. 
 
 Having hitherto practised a strict neutrality, and being known to 
 have a strong sympathy with the cause of the Independence, the 
 young Spaniard believed that Arroyo only intended demanding 
 from him a contribution in provisions — and perhaps money — 
 for the support of his troops; and that with this he would be con- 
 tented. 
 
 Although not suspecting the designs of the brigand in regard to 
 his wife, he had deemed it prudent before opening the gates, that 
 she should conceal herself in one of the secret chambers of the 
 mansion — where he was also in the habit of keeping his money and 
 plate. 
 
 There, he fancied, she would be safe enough, unless, indeed, the 
 whole building should be ransacked and pillaged. 
 
 To strengthen this precaution, Don Fernando had informed the 
 brigands on their entering the house, that his wife, Marianita, was 
 not at home. 
 
 Unfortunately for him it was not a mere levy of black mail that 
 was now to satisfy the partizan chieftains. One was determined upon 
 robbing him of his wife — while the other coveted his money — and, 
 therefore, the subterfuges of Don Fernando were not likely to avail 
 him. 
 
 It was just at the time that the wretched husband was endeavor, 
 ing to mislead his visitors as to the hiding-place of his wife and his 
 treasure, that Don Cornelio Lantejas had come within view of the 
 building, the lights of whose windows had so mystified him. That 
 mystery was now to be cleared up, and the ex-student was to find 
 the explanation of those bright-coloured flames with their changing 
 hues. 
 
 Following Gaspacho up the stone stairway, Don Cornelio reach' 
 
THE COLONEL OF COLONELS. 297 
 
 ed a door upon the landing. It was closed, but inside a tumult of 
 voices could be heard, accompanied by cries — as of some one in pain. 
 
 His conductor unceremoniously opened the door, and pushed Don 
 Cornelio into a large room, the atmosphere of which almost suffoca- 
 ted him. 
 
 Several torches of resin, set in candelabras, were burning round 
 the walls, but the reddish light which those produced was almost 
 eclipsed under the glare that proceeded from a keg of brandy that 
 stood near the middle of the floor, and which, having been set on 
 (ire, was completely enveloped in violet-coloured flames. 
 
 The heat, the smell of blood, and the effluvia of the burning alco- 
 hol, constituted an atmosphere horrid to endure; but even this was 
 less painful to Don Cornelio than the sight which met his eyes as he 
 entered the room. On one side was a group of guerilleros — clustered 
 around some object which they were regarding with the most vivid 
 interest — all seemingly pleased with the spectacle. 
 
 It was that of an unfortunate man, stripped almost naked, and tied 
 with his face to the wall, while another man stood over him, grasping 
 a strong cow-hide whip, with which, at intervals, he struck the poor 
 victim, apparently with all tha strength th it lay in his arms. 
 
 He who handled the whip was a man of the most sinister aspect ; 
 and the blue flames of the alcohol flashing over his countenance ad- 
 ded to its demoniac expression. Gouts of blood, that had spurted 
 from the back of the sufferer, spotted the wall on both sides of him; 
 and the number of those spots showed that the punishment had been, 
 continued for some length of time. 
 
 By the side of the man who was inflicting the stripes — and whom 
 Lantejas supposed to be some common executioner — s'ood a woman 
 of a still more hideous aspect ; who, by her gestures and words, 
 kept exciting the wretch to still greater cruelty — as though he stood 
 in need of such encouragement. 
 
 Gaspacho, perceiving that no one perceived his entrance, cried out, 
 so as to be heard above the tumult, — 
 
 " Senor Captain ! we have captured the comrade of the negro and 
 the Indian. Here he is." 
 
 To the astonishment of Don Cornelio, the person thus addressed 
 as the Captain was no other than the hideous individual who was 
 handling the whip. 
 
 " Very well," responded the latter, without turning round. " 1 shall 
 attend to him presently, as soon as I have made this coyote confess 
 where he has hidden his wife and his money." 
 
 The whin again whistled through the air, and came down udou 
 
29S THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 the back of the wretched sufferer, without producing any other mao> 
 festation than a deep groan. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that the victim of this barbarous 
 treatment was Don Fernando Lacarra. The words of Arroyo have 
 already made this known to the reader. 
 
 Perfectly indifferent to the spectacle, Gaspacho, having introduced 
 his prisoner to the presence of Arroyo, walked out of the room. 
 
 As regards Don Cornelio, he stood where the robber had left him 
 paralyzed with horror. Independently of the compassion he felt for 
 the sufferer, he was under the suspicion that both Costal and Clara 
 had already perished, and that his own turn might come next. 
 
 While these fearful reflections were passing through his mind, a 
 man whom he had not before noticed now came up to him. This 
 was an individual with a jackaMike face, and the skulking mein of 
 that animal, with all its ferocious aspect. 
 
 " My good friend," said this man, addressing himself to Don Cor 
 nelio, "you appear somewhat lightly clad for one who is about to 
 present himself before people of distinction." 
 
 Lantejas, in reality — thanks to the bandits who had captured him 
 — was almost naked ; a torn shirt and drawers being all the cloth- 
 ing they had left him. 
 
 "Senor Captain," — said he, addressing the jackal-like individual, 
 and intending to account for the scantiness of his costume. 
 
 " Stop," interrupted the other, " not captain. Call me Colonel of 
 Colonels, if you please. It is a title which I have adopted, and no 
 one shall deprive me of it." 
 
 " Well, then, Colonel of Colonels ! if your people had not robbed 
 me of my broad cloth cloak, my hat of Vicuna wool, and various 
 other articles of clothing, you would not have seen ma so lightly 
 dressed. But it is not only that which grieves me. I have other 
 serious complaints to make " 
 
 " The devil !" exclaimed the Colonel of Colonels, without heeding 
 the last remarks. " A broad cloth cloak and Vicuna hat, did you 
 say ? Two things of which I stand particularly in need. They 
 must be recovered." 
 
 "I have to complam of violence offered to my person," continued 
 Don Cornelio. " I am called Lantejas — Captain Lantejas. I serve 
 the junta of Zitacuaro, under the orders of General Morelos ; and I 
 
 bear from him a commission, of which the proofs " 
 
 A sudden thought interrupted tne speech of Don Cornelio — a 
 terrible thought, for it just now occurred to him that his despatches* 
 
THE COLONEL OF COLONELS. 209 
 
 his commission as captain, his letters of credence — in short, all the 
 papers by which he could prove his identity — were in the pockets 
 of the stolen cloak ! 
 
 " Ho !" exclaimed the Colonel of Colonels, in a joyful tone, "you 
 call yourself Lantejas, do you 1 I am delighted to hear it, and h> 
 will our captain be. It is the luckiest circumstance in the world for 
 us, and for you, too,as you shall presently be convinced. Look !" 
 
 The speaker raised the corner of a serape that was spread upon 
 one of the tables standing near, and pointed to some objects lying 
 underneath. Don Cornelio saw they were human heads. 
 
 There were three of them. 
 
 " Now, my good friend," continued the Colonel of Colonels, 
 * there you see the head of our old comrade, Lieutenant Lantejas, 
 which we have brought away from where it was nailed over the gate 
 of the hacienda Del Valle. Conceive, then, what a lucky thing for 
 us ! What a splendid revanche we shall have when, in place of the 
 head of the insurgent Lantejas, we shall nail up that of Lantejas the 
 royalist spy !" 
 
 " But it is a mistake," cried Don Cornelio, rubbing the cold sweat 
 from his forehead. " I am not a royalist nor a spy neither. I have 
 the honour to serve the cause of the Independence " 
 
 " Bah ! everybody says the same. And besides, without any 
 proofs " 
 
 " But I have proofs. They are in the pocket of my cloak, of which 
 I have been robbed." 
 
 " Who took your cloak ?" inquired the Colonel of Colonels. 
 
 "Gaspacho," replied Don Cornelio, who had incidentally learnt 
 the name of the brigand who had despoiled him. 
 
 " Ah ! that is a terrible misfortune. Gaspacho has just received 
 orders to go in all haste to Las Cruces. He is off by this time, 
 and will not likely be back in less than ten days. You, by that 
 time will have lost your head, and I my cloak and Vicuna hat. 
 Both of them, I know, would have fitted me, since you and I are 
 both of a size. What a damnable misfortune for both of us !" 
 
 A fearful cry interrupted the dialogue between Don Cornelio and 
 the Colonel of* Colonels. The cry came from the wretched sufferer, 
 who fainted as soon as uttering it. 
 
 Almost at the same instant the alcohol shot up its last flickering 
 flame — as the spirit itself was consumed; and in the reddish light 
 of the torches Don Cornelio could perceive the men flitting about 
 like shadows, or rather like demons assisting in the horrible drama 
 that was being enacted. 
 
300 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVII. 
 
 THE COMMISION EXECUTED. 
 
 While the Captain Lantejas stood in the midst of an atmosphere 
 that nearly stifled his breathing, he saw one of these shadowy forms 
 step out from among the rest and advance towards him. As the 
 man came nearer, he recognised the ferocious captain of the bandits, 
 who, licking his blood-stained lips like a jaguar after leaving its 
 prey, cried out in a hoarse voice, " Bring me that spy ! I can ex- 
 amine him while the coyote is coming to himself." 
 
 " Here he is," replied Bocardo, seizing Don Cornelio by the 
 shoulder, and pushing him forward into the presence of his associate. 
 
 " My good friend," muttered Bocardo, addressing himself to Don 
 Cornelio, " it's your turn now. Of course the lash will make you 
 confess that you are a spy, and of course your head will be taken 
 off immediately after. I would, therefore, advise you not to waste 
 time about it, but acknowledge your guilt at once." 
 
 While Bocardo was giving this fearful counsel, his associate stood 
 regarding Don Cornelio with eyes that expressed a villanous pleas- 
 ure, at the idea of having another victim to satisfy his bloodthirsty 
 instincts. 
 
 *' Confess quickly !" he cried, " and let that end it. I am tired, 
 and shan't be kept waiting." 
 
 " Senor Arroyo !" replied Lantejas, "I am a captain in the insur- 
 gent army, and am sent by General Morelos to tell you " 
 
 Don Cornelio paused. He was hesitating whether he dare pro- 
 claim his real errand. 
 
 " Your proofs ?" demanded Arroyo. 
 
 " My papers have been taken from me," said Lantejas. 
 
 " A fig for your papers ! Hola ! wife !" continued Arroyo, turn- 
 ing to the hag who still stood by the fainting victim, " here's a little 
 *fork for you, as I am somewhat fatigued. I charge you with mak- 
 
THE COMMISSION EXECUTED. 301 
 
 ing this spy confess who sent him here, and what design he had in 
 coming. Make him speak out whatever way you please." 
 
 " By and by," answered the virago, " but not yet. This coyote 
 has come round again, and better still, has come to his right senses 
 at last : he is about to confess." 
 
 " Bring him here, then !" commanded Arroyo. 
 
 Several men hastened to execute the order, and, detaching the 
 victim from the place where he had been bound, half dragged, half 
 carried him across the floor. Don Cornelio saw that the unfortunate 
 individual was a young man — of less than thirty, of noble aspect, 
 though his features expressed at the moment the terrible agony he 
 was enduring. 
 
 " Now, Gachnpino /" exclaimed the woman, " where is your 
 money hid ?" 
 
 " Where is your wife?" cried Arroyo. On hearing this question 
 so pointedly put, the hideous companion of Arroyo directed upon 
 her husband a glance of concentrated rage and jealousy. 
 
 " I want the woman," muttered Arroyo, " in order that I may 
 draw a good ransom out of her father." 
 
 The young Spaniard, his spirit tortured to a certain degree of 
 feebleness, in a voice scarce audible, indicated to his persecutors 
 where lay the secret cham bar — the door of which, cunningly set in the 
 wall, had escaped even the keen eyes of the robbers. 
 
 Both Bocardo and Arroyo immediately repaired to the spot. A 
 keg of dollars, with a large quantity of plate, was found in the 
 chamber, but the Senora Marianita had disappeared. 
 
 On hearing this news, a tremor of joy passed through the lacera- 
 ted frame" of the young Spaniard. Little cared he for his treasure, 
 so long as his beloved wife had escaped from the outrages of the 
 brigands. His emotions caused him to faint anew ; and he lay 
 once more senseless at the feet of his tormentors. 
 
 Don Cornelio now remembered the white phantom he had observ. 
 ed gliding among the trees, and he doubted not that what he haa 
 seen was she of whom they were in search. 
 
 Arroyo returned to examine his prisoner, but by this time the 
 whole nature of Don Cornelio appeared to have become suddenly 
 transformed. The perfumes of the alcohol, mixed with that of the 
 resin torches, had mounted to his head ; and as he had never in his 
 life even tasted strong liquors, the effect was that of a partial but 
 instant intoxication. He appeared to have become animated with a 
 portion of that courage, with which in the field of battle the flaming 
 
302 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 eyes of Galeana had more than once inspired him — while combat 
 ing under the aegis of the marshal's death-dealing lance. 
 
 " Senor Arroyo !" he cried in a voice whose thundering tones as- 
 tonished even himself, " and you who call yourself the Colonel of 
 Colonels ! I command you both to respect the envoy of his Excel 
 lency the General Morelos- myself — who am charged to tell you, 
 that if you continue, by your sanguinary cruelties, to disgrace the 
 holy cause for which we light — not as brigands but as Christians — 
 you will both be drawn and quartered !"' 
 
 At this unexpected and insulting menace the eyes of Arroyo 
 sparkled with fury. Upon Bocardo the effect was somewhat differ- 
 ent. He trembled and turned pale at the name of Morelos. 
 
 Lantejas, though somewhat alarmed at his own boldness, never- 
 theless continued in the same strain. 
 
 " Bring here the negro and Indian !" demanded he, " prisoners 
 like myself — and see. if both do not know me as Don Cornelio Lan- 
 tejas. If they do not I consent " 
 
 At this point Arroyo interrupted the speaker, springing forward 
 and crying out in a husky voice — 
 
 " Woe be to you if you are lying! I will pluck the tongue out 
 of your head, and scourge with it the cheeks of an impostor." 
 
 Lantejas, now elevated in spite of himself to a point of haughty 
 grandeur, replied to this menace only with a superb smile. 
 
 Clara being sent for, the moment after appreared within the 
 room. 
 
 u Who is this man, dog of a negro? interrogated the fierce 
 brigand. 
 
 This time too punctual in executing the orders of his captain, the 
 black displayed his ivory teeth in a smile of significant intelligence. 
 " Don Lucas Alacuesta, of course !" he replied. 
 
 A cry of gratification arose from the lips of the bandit 
 
 " But there is another name which I also bear, is there not?" in- 
 quired Don Cornelio, without losing countenance. 
 
 " Don Cornelio Lantejas," added Clara. 
 
 "The proofs — the proofs!" cried the guerillero, pacing rapidly 
 backward and forward, like a caged tiger who sees the spectators out- 
 side the bars of his prison without being able to devour them, " the 
 proofs ! — I must have them at once." 
 
 At this moment confused and violent noises were heard outside 
 the door, and rising above all the voice of Costal. The door was 
 suddenly burst open, and the Indian rushed into the middle 
 of the room, holding in one hand a bloody dagger, while the other 
 
THE COMMISSION EXECUTED. 303 
 
 was enveloped in a shapeless mass of what seemed to be cloth- The 
 latter was serving him for a shield against the attack of several 
 guerilleros, who were pressing him from behind. 
 
 Costal, on getting inside, turned abruptly and stood facing his ad- 
 versaries. 
 
 These, finding themselves in the presence of their chief, desisted 
 for a moment from the attack — one of them crying out to Arroyo, 
 that the Indian had poniarded their comrade Gaspacho. 
 
 "I did it to get back my own property," replied Costal, "or 
 rather that of Captain Lantejas ; and here it is." 
 
 In saying these words, the Zapoteque unwound from his left arm 
 what had served him as a buckler, and which was now seen to be the 
 cloak so inopportunely missing. 
 
 Don Cornelio seized it from him with an exclamation of joy, and 
 at once plunged his hands into the pockets. 
 
 " Here are my proofs !" cried he, drawing out a number of pa- 
 pers, so stained with blood, fresh from the veins of the slain robber, 
 as to be scare legible. Enough, however, could be read to estab- 
 lish the identity of Don Cornelio and the authority under which he 
 was acting. 
 
 The mimes of Morelos and Galeana in the midst of the band of 
 brigands were, for him, like the whisper of the Lord to Daniel in 
 the den of lions. Even the two ferocious leaders lowered their tone 
 at the mention of these names so universally feared and respected 
 
 " You may go, then !" cried Arroyo, yielding reluctantly to the 
 authority that had awed him ; " but if you ever boast of the arro- 
 gant language you have used to me, Carajo!" and the brigand 
 hissed out the infamous oath. " As for General Morelos," he added, 
 "you may say to him, that each of us fights according to his own 
 way ; and, notwithstanding his threats I shall follow mine." 
 
 Saying this, an order was issued to let the prisoners pass free, af- j 
 ter delivering up to them their arms and horses. I 
 
 " Let six horsemen get ready to pursue this runaway Senora! v j 
 cried the bandit chief, as Don Cornelio and his companions were 
 leaving the room. " Some one bridle my horse quickly. 1 shall go 
 along with them, and you too. J3ocardo." 
 
 Bocardo made no reply, but not equally silent was Arroyo's fe- 
 male companion. 
 
 " What want you with the Senora ?" she inquired, in a tone of an- 
 grv jealousv. M Have you not got the keg of dollars to satisfy 
 
 you r 
 
 "I have told you already," rejoined Arroyo, with a demoniaa 
 
S04 THE TIGER-HUJSTER. 
 
 glance- at his wife, " that I want her for the purpose of enabling m,s 
 to extract a ransom from her father. I want her, and will have iit-j-. 
 You stay here and guard the treasure ; and by all the devils if vt3«i 
 dont behave youi self better " 
 
 The bandit drew his dagger with such an air of resolution and 
 menace, that the hag, cowed by the gesture, no longer offered op- 
 position to his will. Shrinking to one side, she appeared to busy 
 herself in looking after the keg of dollars. 
 
 Meanwhile Don Cornelio and his two acolytes, not caring to re- 
 main in such company longer than was absolutely necessary, hast- 
 ened from the room ; and, mounting their restored steeds, /"ade oi\\ 
 into the darkness of the night. 
 
THE CATALAN LILUTENANT. 805 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 THE CATALAN LIEUTENANT. 
 
 Tt is already known how Don Rafael Tres-Villas had fortified his 
 hacienda of Del Valle, and how, when called elsewhere by his mili- 
 tary duties, he had left its garrison of nearly a hundred men, under 
 the command of a Catalonian officer, Lieutenant Veraegui. 
 
 On the same day in which he had made a sortie from the hacienda, 
 and succeeded in capturing ten of the beseiging guerilleros, the 
 Lieutenant received a despatch from the governor of the province, 
 ordering him, without further delay, to attack the band of Arroyo, 
 and annihilate it, if possible. Then, with his whole troop, to repair 
 to Oajaca, which was now in danger of being besieged by Morelos. 
 The despatch also conveyed to Veraegui the additional intelligence 
 of the raising of the siege of Huajapam, and the total defeat of the 
 beseiging forces. 
 
 The news was anything but agreeable to the Catalonian Lieuten- 
 ant. In the alcavala — which he had for the past two years been ac- 
 customed to levy on all the traffic between Puebla and Oajaca, he 
 had found excellent pay for his soldiers ; and being a man not over 
 scrupulous, though brave as a lion, he felt greatly disinclined to 
 change his comfortable quarters. A fierce royalist, moreover, the 
 news from Huajapam excited his fury against the insurgents to the 
 highest pitch ; and he blamed himself for the clemency he had dis- 
 played that very morning in hanging four of the guerilleros he had 
 taken up by the neck, instead of by the heels, as he had done with 
 three of their comrades. 
 
 About an hour after Don Coriwlio Lanteias and his traveling 
 
300 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 companions had passed Del Valle — and only a few minutes from 
 the time, when, thanks to the darkness of the night, two of Arroyo's 
 followers had found an opportunity to carry off the heads of tlieir 
 three comrades — two men presented themselves in front of the for 
 titled hacienda. 
 
 They were Gaspar and Juan de Zapote, who had hidden them' 
 selves during the day, and awaited the friendly darkness, to enable 
 th3m to make their way through the lines of the besieging force. 
 
 " I see no one," muttered Zapote, as. they glided into the avenue. 
 " The place appears to be deserted ! It's likely enough that my 
 ex comrades have abandoned the siege." 
 
 " So much the better — let us keep on then !" rejoined Gaspar. 
 
 '•Gently, gently, compadre!" counselled Zapote. "You forget 
 that my costume is of a military kind, and likely to makeasentinel 
 suspicious of me. A carbine shot might be the only hail we should 
 get from one of these Royalists." 
 
 " Your physiognomy, amigo, is more likely than your costume to 
 beget suspicion." 
 
 " Ah ! that comes of the bad company I have been keeping of 
 laU." 
 
 "Never mind that. I shall go forward alone, and make myself 
 known to the sentries. I can then introduce you as a comrade, de- 
 voted to the service of Don Rafael Tres-Villas, and who offers to 
 assist i;i delivering the Colonel from danger." 
 
 " Precisely so, that is, if the Colonel be still alive." 
 
 " Quien- viva /" came the sonorous hail of a sentinel from the 
 crenel led parapet. 
 
 " Gente de paz /" replied Gaspar, advancing alone, while Zapote, 
 notwithstanding the obscurity of the night, instinctively placed him- 
 self b mind the trunk of a tree. 
 
 " What is your wish V demanded the guard. 
 
 " I am the bearer of important news from the Colonel Tres-Villas," 
 answered Gaspar. 
 
 " And we wish to communicate them to Lieutenant Veraegui," add- 
 ed Zipote, from behind, but without leaving the shelter of the tree. 
 
 " How many of you are there?" asked the sentinel. 
 
 "Two." 
 
 " You may advance, then," said the soldier, dropping his carbino 
 to the " order arms." 
 
 The gate was soon opened ; and Gaspar and Zapote, entering 
 within the fortress, were conducted by the corporal of the guard 
 towards the quarters of his commander. 
 
THE CATALAN LIEUTENANT. 307 
 
 The Lieutenant Vcraegui was, at that moment, within one of the 
 chambers of the mansion, engaged over a game of cards with a 
 young alferez. On the table before them stood a bottle of Catalan 
 brandy — the product of his own native province — clear and strong 
 as alcohol. A couple of glasses flanked the bottle, and beside them 
 lay a pile of Havana cigars. 
 
 Zapote, on entering, could not help a slight tremor ; which was 
 increased as the Catalan Lieutenant bent upon him an inquisitorial 
 look of his grey eyes, that glanced keenly under eyebrows long and 
 grizzled like his moustaches. 
 
 Veraegui was a soldier of fortune, of rude unpolished speech, and 
 with manners not very different from those which he had practised 
 while wearing the chevrons of a sergeant. 
 
 From the examination of Zapote, he passed unceremoniously to 
 that of Gaspar, whose features he instantly recognised. 
 
 " Ah ! it is you V he said, addressing the messenger. " Well, 
 you have seen the Colonel, and bring news from him'? He has, I 
 trust, escaped from the disaster of Huajapam." 
 
 " Senor Lieutenant," replied Gaspar, " I know not of what affair 
 you are speaking. All I know is, that this morning the Colonel 
 Tres-Villas was in the woods between here and the Ostuta — where 
 the bandits of Arroyo were tracking him like a wild beast." 
 
 "Ho !" cried the Lieutenant, angrily, as he started up from his 
 chair; "and it is only now you tell me of this, when you might 
 have brought the news in an hour ?" 
 
 " Pardon, Lieutenant: both my companion and myself were also 
 hunted by the same brigands ; and we were not able to escape from 
 the woods one minute sooner than we have done." 
 
 " Ah ! in that case, I ask your pardon, and that of your companion 
 there," continued the Lieutenant, turning to Zapote, " whom I should 
 certainly have taken for a friend of Arroyo, rather than an enemy 
 to that worthy individual. Where the devil have I seen you, my 
 good fellow ?" he added, fancying he recognised the features of the 
 deserter. 
 
 u Oh ! your honour, I have travelled a great deal," replied Zapote, 
 whose presence of mind did not forsake him. " It would not be 
 strange if " 
 
 " So the Colonel has sent you to apprise me of his situation ?" 
 said the Lieutenant, without waiting for Zapote's explanation. 
 
 " We met the Colonel without knowing him," blundered out 
 Gaspar. "It was only afterwards we learnt it was he." 
 
SOS THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " Ha ! that is very strange !" remarked the Catalan, again turning 
 his eye upon the men with a suspicious glance. 
 
 Gaspar now related how, as he and his companion were flying 
 from the bandits of Arroyo, Don Rafael had leaped down between 
 them from the branches of a tree; and how they had parted from 
 him without recognising him. 
 
 So far the story was well enough ; but the narrator was treading 
 on ground that was dangerous for Juan el Zapote. It lemaincd to 
 be explained how they had been informed, by the ex-comrades of 
 the deserter, that the fugitive they had encountered was the Colonel 
 Tres-Villas. 
 
 At this point Gaspar hesitated, while the suspicious glances of the 
 Lieutenant flitted alternately from one to the other. Zapote, how- 
 ever, came resolutely to the aid of his companion. 
 
 " My compadre," said he, "does not wish to tell the whole truth, 
 out of regard for me. I shall speak for him; and this it is. In 
 going away from here on his message to the Colonel my friend 
 Gaspar was captured by the scouts of Arroyo, and taken to the 
 camp of the guerilleros. There he stood a very fair chance of losing 
 his life, when, out of regard for our compadrxizgo, and old acquaint- 
 ance sake, I consented to assist him at the risk of losing my head." 
 
 " Oh ! you are then from the camp ot Arroyo V 
 
 "Yes," muttered Zapote, in a tone of eompuction "the lamb is 
 sometimes found in the company of wolves." 
 
 " Especially when the lamb so nearly resembles a wolf, that it is 
 difficult to distinguish them," rejoined the Lieutenant with a 
 smile. 
 
 "I have always been an honest man," affirmed Zapote, with a v 
 demure look. "Virtue has been my motto through life; and I 
 assure your honour, that I was forced to consort with these brigands 
 very much against my will. 1 was only too glad, when to save my 
 old compadre here, I found an opportunity of making some amends 
 for the wicked life 1 have been obliged to lead in their company." 
 
 "Hum!" said the Lieutenant, with a dubious shrug of the 
 shoulders, "I suppose you expect your virtue to be well rewarded. 
 But how did you ascertain that the man you encountered so unex- 
 pectedly was the Colonel V 
 
 Zapote now recounted their subsequent interview with the brig- 
 ands; and how he had learnt from them the object of their pursuit 
 — as well as the adroit ruse he had practised to secure the escape of 
 himself and his " compadre." 
 
THE CATALAN LIEUTENANT. 309 
 
 " It's all true as gospel !" affirmed Gaspar, when his companion 
 had finished the relation. 
 
 Zapote also made known the advice he had given to Don Rafael: 
 to conceal himself among the bamboos. 
 
 " At what place?" demanded the Lieutenant. 
 
 "Just below the ford,'' answered the deserter. 
 
 "Bit, Senor Lieutenant," added he, "I shall be most happy to 
 conluet you to the spot myself." 
 
 "Yoj shall do no such thing, my brave fellow. You and youi 
 worthy coinpidre, as you call him, shall remain here as hostages, 
 till Dv>;i Rafael is found. I have no confidence in lambs that have 
 been sj loag in the company of wolves. If the Colonel be living, 
 
 so m ly you ; but if I find it otherwise, then your prospects Ho, 
 
 th.u'e!" cried the Lieutenant, without finishing the threat, "take 
 these two men to the guard house, and keep them there, till I ordei 
 them to be set free." 
 
 So saying, the Catalan poured out a glass of his favourite liquor, 
 and commenced drinking it. 
 
 " What, and me, too 1" inquired Gaspar, in a tone not very 
 complimentary to his companion in misfortune. 
 
 " A fig for you, my worthy follow !" rejoined the Lieutenant. 
 " You should have remembered the proverb, mas vale viajar in 
 solo que mal ucompanadoy (Better travel alone than in bad com- 
 pany.) 
 
 " By the cross of Christ !" continued he, after quaffing off his 
 glass, " I shall make short work of it with this bandit, Arroyo. To- 
 night I shall finish with him and his band ; and if I don't give the 
 jackals and vultures a meal that will last them for a twelvemonth, 
 my name's not Veraegui !" 
 
 At an order from his superior, the alferez flung down the cards, 
 and hurried off to prepare the garrison troops for sallying out of the 
 fort to the rescue of their Colonel ; while the corporal of the 
 guards conducted Gaspar and Zapote to the prison — the latter no 
 little disconcerted at finding his first act of virtue so indifferently 
 rewarded ! 
 
310 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 NEWS SWEET AND SAD. 
 
 From the middle of the cane-brake where Don Rafael had found 
 shelter, he was able through the stems of the bamboos to see the 
 camp of Arroyo and his bandits. He could note many of the 
 movements passing within their lines ; and at length perceived thfr 
 guenlleros striking their tents, and riding off in a body from the 
 banks of the river. 
 
 He still kept his place, however, until the night had fairly come 
 on, and then wading back to the high bank where the bamboo 
 thicket commenced, he looked out upon the open space between 
 the river and the edge of the forest. 
 
 At first, all was silent along the bank of the stream ; but shortly 
 after three horsemen were seen riding past, and not far behind them 
 two other men followed, also on horseback. 
 
 The first party were Don Cornelio and his companions, making 
 for the ford of the river. The other horsemen were two of Arroyo's 
 guerilla — who, by his orders, had remained near the hacienda Del 
 Valle, for the purpose of taking down the heads of his three follow- 
 ers nailed over the gate — should an opportunity offer for their so 
 doing. They had found the opportunity — as already known — and 
 it was they who had passed Don Cornelio at the ford, and whose 
 ambiguous speech had caused a difference of opinion, as to its mean- 
 ing,. between the Captain and Clara. 
 
 The first care of Don Rafael, as soon as he believed the road to 
 be clear, was to recover his horse — which he had left tied in a 
 thicket in the woods. 
 
 Like his master, Roncador had escaped the researches of the 
 
NEWS SWEET AND SAD. 3 1 1 
 
 bandits; but so weak was ho with thirst and hunger, that Don 
 Rafael had doubts whether the poor animal would he able to carry 
 him. It was necessary that he should take the horse to the river, in 
 order to water him. This required to be done by stealth ; for, al- 
 though Don Rafael had witnessed the departure of the guenlleros 
 from the ford, he did not know whether those who blockaded the 
 hacienda had also gone away. 
 
 After giving Roncador his drink, just as he was leading the horse 
 up the bank again, he perceived a man coming from the direction of 
 the ford. As this man was on foot and alone, Don Rafael resolved 
 to stop and question him. Sabre in hand, therefore, he placed him- 
 self in front of the pedestrian. 
 
 The latter, thus assaded by a man with a naked sword — and who 
 was covered from head to foot with a coating of mud — was almost 
 frightened out of his senses. 
 
 "Oh, Lord!" he cried, "help a poor servant who is seeking as- 
 sistance for his master !" 
 
 " Who is your master?" demanded Don Rafael. 
 
 " Don Fernando Lacarra," answered the man. 
 
 " Of the hacienda San Carlos?" 
 
 "Si, Senor. You know him '?" 
 
 "Yes: is he in any danger?" 
 
 "Alas!" replied the servant, "the hacienda is pillaged by gueril- 
 leros; and, just as I was leaving it, I heard the groans of my poor 
 master under the lash of their Captain Arroyo " 
 
 "Again this villian !" muttered Don Rafael, interrupting the nar- 
 rator with his angry soliloquy. 
 
 "Ah ! he is always committing some crime," rejoined the 
 servant. 
 
 "And your mistress — the Dona Marianita — what of her?" 
 
 " It was to make him tell where she was concealed that Arroyo 
 was flogging my master," replied the man. " Fortunately I was 
 able to get her out of the way, by assisting her to descend from the 
 window of the chamber where they had hidden her. Afterwards 1 
 cot, off' myself, and am now on my way to the hacienda Dei Valle, 
 in hopes of getting assistance^ from its brave defenders, who them- 
 selves never violate the laws of war." 
 
 '•But how will you get in there? Are not some of Arroyo's 
 guerilleros still besieging the place?" 
 
 " No, Senor. The whole band is now at San Carlos." 
 
 "Good !" exclaimed the Colonel. "Come along with me, and I 
 promise you a prompt and bloody vengeance." 
 
£12 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Without further explaining himself. Don Rafael leaped upon his 
 h >rse 5 directing the domestic to mount behind him. and then started 
 off at a rapid trot in the direction of Dei Yalle. 
 
 "Where did you leave your mistress?" inquired Don Rafael, as 
 they rode on. 
 
 "In truth, sir," replied the domestic, "I was so confused 
 she left me, that I did not think of reinindin fly to Dei 
 
 1 only told her to make into ■ -. But the 
 
 most important matter was for her to get out of the reach of Ai*- 
 royo ; and 1 hope she will be sate in the chapparal. Poor young 
 creature ! She was so happy this morning. She was expecting on 
 this very night the arrival of her father and sister — neither of whom 
 she has seen for a long time." 
 
 The Colonel could not hinder himself from shuddering. 
 
 "Are you sure that is it tonight that Don Mariano and Dona 
 Gertrudis are expected at San Carlos?" he inquired, with a tone of 
 anxiety in his voice. 
 
 " Yes ; a letter had reached my master to say so. God forbid that 
 they, too, should fall into the hands of these merciless men ! They 
 say, too, that Arroyo is an old servant of Don Mariano." 
 
 " Let us hope they may not come !" said the Colonel, with a chok- 
 ing effort. 
 
 *■' It may be," continued the domestic, " that the illness of Dona 
 Gertrudis may detain them a day or two on the journey. That 
 would be the luckiest thing that could happen." 
 
 " What say you ? is Dona Gertrudis ill!" 
 
 " Senor !" exclaimed the domestic, " you who appear to know 
 tha family, are you ignorant that Dona Gertrudis is only the shadow 
 of her former self, and that some secret ffrief is wasting her awav ? 
 But, Senor, why do you tremble ?" inquired the man, who, with his 
 arm around his waist, felt the nervous agitation of Don Rafael's 
 body. 
 
 "Oh, nothing," replied the latter; "but tell me — does anyone 
 know the cause of her grief?" 
 
 " Rather say, who is their who don't know it, Senor] Dona Ger- 
 trudis was in love with a young officer; and so fondly, that it is said 
 she cut off the whole of her beautiful hair, as a sacrifice to the Holy 
 Virgin, for saving his life on an occasion when he was in danger! 
 And yet for all this, he who was thus loved proved faithless, and de- 
 serted her." 
 
 " Well?" mechanically interposed Don Rafael. 
 
 " Well," continued the servant, "the poor young lady is dying 
 
NEWS SWEET AND SAD. 813 
 
 on account of being so deserted— dying by inches; but surely — 
 why, Senor you are certainly ill? I teel your heart beating against 
 my hand as if it would leap out of your bosom !" 
 
 "It is true," answered Don Rafael in a husky voice. " I am sub- 
 ject to severe palpitations ; but presently " The colonel, for 
 
 support, fell back against the domestic, his herculean strength having 
 yielded to the powerful emotions which were passing within him. 
 "Presently," he continued, "I shall get over it. I feel better al- 
 ready. Go on with your history. This man — this officer — did he 
 ever tell Dona Gertrudis that he no longer loved her ? Does he love 
 any other ?" 
 
 " I do not know," was the response of the domestic. 
 
 " Could she not have sent him word — say by some means agreed 
 upon — which should bring him back to her from the farthest corner 
 of the earth? Perhaps then " 
 
 Don Rafael could not finish what he intended to have said. A 
 bright hope, long time suppressed, began to spring up within his 
 heart, and with such force, that he feared to know the truth — lest it 
 should be crushed on the instant. 
 
 " Senor, you ask me more than I am able to answer," replied the 
 domestic. " I have told you all I know of this sad story." 
 
 Heaving a deep sigh, the Colonel remained for some moments si- 
 lent. After awhile, he resumed the conversation, by putting a ques- 
 tion, the answer to which might terminate his doubts. 
 
 " Have you ever heard the name of this young officer 1 ?" 
 
 " No," replied the domestic ;" but were I in his place, 1 should not 
 leave this young lady to die, for one lovelier I never beheld in my 
 life." 
 
 These were the last words spoken on either side ; for at that mo- 
 ment the voices of the sentinels, challenging from the wails of the 
 hacienda, put an end to the conversation. 
 
 "Say to Lieutenant Veraegui," commanded Don Rafael, in reply 
 to the challenge. " that it is Colonel Tres-Villas." 
 
 The sound of the trumpets inside soon signalised the joy felt by 
 the garrison at the return of their old commandant, while the do- 
 mestic of Fernando flung himself promptly to the ground, asking a 
 thousand pardons for not recognising the quality of his compagnon 
 de chevaL 
 
 " It is I who have most reason to feel obliged," said Don Rafael. 
 " Remain here till I see you again. I may, perhaps, need you for an 
 important message." 
 
 The domestic bowed respectfully, Liking hold of the bridle of 
 
ol4 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Don Rafael's horse, while the Lieutenant Veraegui, the al/erez, with 
 several soldiers of the garrison, came forth with torches to con 
 gratulate their superior officer on his escape from the dangers that 
 had so lately surrounded him. 
 
 As soon as their first greetings had been exchanged, Veraegui in- 
 formed the Colonel that they were just about preparing to start 
 upon an expedition against the banditti of Arroyo. 
 
 "You know where they are, then?" said Don Rafael. 
 
 "Not the precise spot. But it is not difficult to find the traces 
 of these gentry," replied Catalan. 
 
 "True," rejoined the Colonel. "But I chance to know their 
 whereabouts. They are just now at the hacienda of San Carles. 
 This faithful servant, who is holding my horse, has lately escaped 
 from them, and come to beg your assistance to rescue his master 
 from the brutal outrages they are at this moment inflicting upon 
 him. Lieutenant Veraegui ! see that your men are provided with a 
 sufficient quantity of ropes. Let a piece of ordnance be mounted 
 upon the back of a mule : we shall, no doubt, require it to force open 
 the gate." 
 
 " But, Senor Colonel, what do you want with the ropes?" inquired 
 the Lieutenant, with a significant smile. 
 
 " For the execution of these brigands. We shall hang them to 
 the last man, my dear Veraegui." 
 
 " Good !" assented the Catalan, in a joyous accent, "and this time 
 by the heels, I hope. I shall never forgive myself for my foolish 
 indulgence " 
 
 "What! you have spared some of them?" interrupted Don 
 Rafael. 
 
 " I have been too merciful to four whom 1 captured yesterday — 
 in hanging them by the necks. But, by the way, Colonel, now I 
 jthink of it, two odd fellows came in awhile ago, who say that they 
 wish to speak with you." 
 
 " I cannot receive them now," answered Don Rafael, little sus- 
 pecting the supreme happiness their message would have given him. 
 " I shall see them on my return. We have already wasted too much 
 time, while the worthy proprietor of San Carlos is no doubt count- 
 ing the minutes in anguish. I shall not even stay to change my 
 dress ; so haste, and get your men upon horseback." 
 
 " Sound ' Boots and saddles !'." cried the Lieutenant, hurrying 
 into the courtyard to give further orders ; while Don Rafael, under 
 the pretext of being alone for a few minutes, walked out into the 
 
HEWS SWEET AND SAD. fll.5 
 
 garden, and directed his stops towards the spot where, two years 
 before, he had deposited the remains of his father in the tomb. 
 
 His spirit once more excited by the revelations made by the do- 
 mestic of Don Fernando, he felt he needed a moment of prayer to 
 strengthen him for this final effort for the punishment of his father's 
 assassins. The murder of his father had been for him a terrible 
 blow, but, as time passed, even this grief, by little and little, had 
 become appeased. 
 
 Far different was it with that other passion — which neither time, 
 nor absence, nor the constant changing of scene, nor the duties of an 
 active campaign, had been able to eradicate from his bosom. 
 
 He now knew that Gertrudis reciprocated his ardent love — that 
 she was dying of ir, ; and, in the midst of the mournful joy which 
 this news had produced, he could have forgotten that his father's 
 death was not yet avenged, as he had sworn it should be. One of 
 the assassins was at no great distance from him, and yet he could 
 scarcely restrain himself from yielding to the almost irresistible 
 desire of galloping direct to Oajaca, where he supposed Gertrudis 
 to be, and then, flinging himself at her feet, confessing that, without 
 her, he could no longer live. 
 
 It was to steel his soul against this temptation, and enable him to 
 keep the oath he had sworn, that Don Rafael now repaired to his 
 father's grave. 
 
olO THE TIGER-HUNTERi 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 THE CAPTURE OF SAN CARLOS. 
 
 A few minutes sufficed for tbe performance of his sacred duty ; 
 and Don Rafael, returning to the courtyard, placed himself at the 
 head of his troopers — already in their saddles. There were eighty 
 in all ordered upon the expedition — only a small garrison of twenty 
 men being left — just sufficient to defend the fortress. Two pack- 
 mules accompanied the party — one carrying a small howitzer, 
 while the other was laden with the necessary caisson of ammunition. 
 
 At a given signal the great gate of the hacienda was thrown open, 
 and the troopers filing through, passed on down the avenue at a 
 rapid trot, and in silence. 
 
 A dozen or so of light cavalry went in advance of the main body 
 > — for the purpose of reeonnoitering the ground — and at the head of 
 these was Don Rafael himself with the Lieutenant Veraegui. 
 
 On the way the Lieutenant, in brief language, rendered an account 
 to his superior of the events that had happened since his last dis- 
 patch to him — to all of which Don Rafael listened far from atten- 
 tively. Absorbed in his thoughts, he sat abstractedly in his saddle 
 until after they had forded the Ostuta. 
 
 On the other side of the river the advance jniard halted to give 
 the main body time to come up ; and here Don Rafael ordered the 
 domestic of Don Fernando to be brought into his presence. 
 
 " Do you know," said he, addressing the man, " if there be any 
 road by which we can get round the hacienda, and approach it from 
 the opposite side ?" 
 
 The. domestic answered in the affirmative. lie knew a path by 
 which he could conduct the troopers to the rear of the building, and 
 by which they might advance up to the very walls Without their 
 approach being discovered. 
 
 "Go ahead then along with the scouts !" directed Don Rafael. 
 
THE CAPTCR3 OF SAN CARLOS. S** 7 
 
 w It is necessary we take these robbers by surprise, else they may 
 get off from us as they have doue before." 
 
 The guide obeyed the order, and placing himself at the head of the 
 advance guard, the march w as resumed. 
 
 The path by which the domestic conducted them made a detour 
 round the foot of the hill, upon which the hacienda stood, and where 
 but a few hours earlier, Don Cornelio Lantejas had seen the flames 
 shining so brightly through the windows. All was now silent as the 
 tomb ; and no sound of any kind announced that the approach of 
 the assailing party was suspected. 
 
 A little further on the guide halted and pointed out to Don Rafa- 
 el several paths that branched off from the one they were following, 
 and by which the party, separating into several detachments, might 
 completely encompass the hacienda. This was exactly what Don 
 Rafael wanted. 
 
 Reserving to himself the command of the main body, he detached 
 three smaller parties by these paths — one under the direction of 
 Veraegui, the others each commanded by an alferez. These at a 
 given signal, were to attack on right, left and in the rear ; while 
 Don Rafael himself with the howitzer would storm the building in 
 front. Each party was provided with a supply of handgrenades, to 
 be thrown into the courtyard of the hacienda, or into such other places 
 as the enemy might seek refuge in. 
 
 So long as the assailants were sheltered from view by the trees 
 and shrubs that skirted the hill, they approached without being dis- 
 covered ; but the moment they became uncovered, on getting near- 
 er to the walls, shouts of alarm and shots fired by the sentries 
 summoned the garrison to the defence; and an irregular fusillade 
 was commenced from the azotea of the building. 
 
 The different parties of the attacking force, without heeding this, 
 kept on throwing their grenades as they advanced ; while the party 
 of Don Rafael, on arriving in front of the building, at once mounted 
 the howitzer upon its carriage, and opened fire upon the main 
 gateway. 
 
 The first shot crushed through the heavy timbers, carrying away 
 one of the posterns of the gate. 
 
 Meanwhile, the grenades, falling within the courtyard, began to 
 burst upon the pavement — frightening the horses of the guerilleros 
 to such an extent, that the animals broke from their fastenings, and 
 galloped about, causing the greatest confusion. The shouts of alarm, 
 the. groans of the wounded, and the furious imprecations of the ban- 
 
CIS THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 dits, was for a time the only answer made to the reports of the 
 bursting grenades, which were making such havoc in the ranks. 
 
 The loud explosion of the howitzer proclaimed a second discharge; 
 and this time the shot penetrated into the courtyard, and cut its way 
 through a mass of insurgents crowded near the further end of it. 
 
 " Once more ! once more !" cried Don Rafael. " Batter down 
 the other wing of the gate, and then, sword in hand, let us enter." 
 
 So quickly did the practised artillerists of Veraegui handle their 
 piece, that almost on the instant it was loaded and discharged for 
 the third time. The ball passed once more through the heavy door; 
 the leaf gave way and fell back with a heavy crash, leaving the 
 entrance open. 
 
 Tres-Villas, sword in hand, rushed into the gateway, followed by 
 his faithful adherents. 
 
 " Where is the dog Arroyo ?" cried he, bounding forward among 
 the thick of the brigands, and cutting down every one within reach 
 of his sword before an answer could be given. " On, my men !" he 
 continued, "neither prisoners nor quarter !" 
 
 " 1 shall hang by thj foot all who surrender !" thundered the voice 
 of the Catalan from behind. 
 
 But despite this moderate promise of mercy, not one of the ban 
 dits offered to deliver himself up; and very soon the courtyard 
 contained only a pile of dead bodies of the insurgents — the few who 
 still lived having betaken themselves to the upper rooms of the 
 building, where they secured themselves from present death by bar- 
 ricading the doors. 
 
 " Where is the dog Arroyo ? A thousand pesos to the man who 
 can lead me to the presence of the monster !" cried Don Rafael, 
 vainly searching tor the guerilla leader. 
 
 But Arroyo and his associate Bocardo were sought for in vain : 
 since it will be remembered that both had gone off from the haci 
 euda in search of its fugitive mistress. 
 
 The dead bodies were examined one after the other, and with care, 
 but no Arroyo — no Bocardo — could be found among them. 
 
 "Let us on, Veraegui !" said Don Rafael. "We must attack 
 them in their stronghold. The chiefs must be hidden up yonder! 
 There is no time to be lost/' 
 
 "Alas !" rejoined the Catalan, with a sigh, as he stood regarding 
 the dead bodies with an air of regret, " I fear, Colonel, our ropes 
 will be useless after all. These fellows are all dead ; and, as for 
 their comrades up there, w r c shall have to set fire to their retreat 
 
THE CAPTURE OF SAN CARLOS. 319 
 
 and burn them alive in it. It' we attempt to dislodge them other- 
 wise, it will cost us a goodly number of our people." 
 
 " Oh ! do not set fire to the house, Senor Colonel !" interposed 
 the faithful domestic, in an appealing tone; "my poor master is 
 there, and would suffer with the rest. All his people, too, are with 
 him, and in the power of the brigands." 
 
 " It is true, what he says," rejoined Don Rafael, moved by the 
 appeal of the domestic; " and yet it will never do to let these fiends 
 escape. If we. attack them, entrenched as they are, and knowing 
 that certain death await them, they may cost us, as you say, more 
 men than they are worth. What is your advice, Lieutenant ?" 
 
 "That we reduce them by a siege, and starve them into surren- 
 dering. For my part, 1 don't wish to be baulked about the hanging 
 of them — especially after the trouble we have taken in bringing 
 these ropes along with us." 
 
 "It will cost time ; but I agree with you, it seems the best thing 
 we can do. They must soon yield to hunger ; and perhaps before 
 that time we may find some opportunity of getting Don Fernando 
 out of their power. At all events, let us wait for sunrise before 
 renewing the attack. Meanwhile, I leave you to conduct the block- 
 ade. The poor lady, Marianita, is, no doubt, wandering about in 
 the woods near at hand. I shall myself go in search of her." 
 
 Saying this, and giving orders for half a dozen chosen men to 
 follow him, Don Rafael leaped into his saddle, and rode off through 
 the gateway of the hacienda. 
 
 He had scarcely passed out of sight, when the sentinels placed 
 by Veraegui were signalled by two men who wished to enter the 
 courtyard. Both were afoot, and appeared to have come in such 
 haste that they could scarce get breath enough to proclaim their 
 errand. 
 
 " What do you want?" asked the Catalan, before looking at the 
 men. "Eh ! my droll fellows?" he continued, recognising Gaspar 
 and Zapote, " it is you, is it? How the devil did you get out of 
 the guard-house ?" 
 
 " The sentry allowed us to go, your honour," answered Zapote. 
 " He knew that you did not wish us to be detained, if the Colonel 
 should be found alive; and as we have an important message to 
 him " 
 
 " The Colonel is gone away from here," interrupted Veraegui. 
 
 " Gone !" exclaimed Zapote, with an air of extreme chagrin. 
 " Where is he gone to, your honour?" 
 
320 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 The Lieutenant, after pointing out the direction in which Don Ra. 
 fael had ridden away, turned his back upon the tw r o adventurers — • 
 who, instead of being offended at this rudeness, were only too glad 
 to terminate their interview with the dreaded Catalan. They lost 
 no time, therefore, in making their exit from the courtyard; and, 
 as fast as their legs could carry them, they started off in the direc- 
 tion taken by him whom they had so long unsuccessfully followed. 
 
gp^J THE ENCHANTED LAKE. 321 
 
 CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 THE ENCHANTED LAKE. 
 
 It is ten o'clock at night, and a starry heaven is extended over ft 
 large expanse of level country — here clothed with virgin forests — 
 there with broad, almost treeless savannas, now and then partaking 
 of the character of marshes and covered with tall reeds. In the 
 midst of this landscape a large lake opens to the view. Its aspec 
 is sombre and sad — its dark, turbid waters scarce reflecting the stars 
 that shine so brilliantly over it; while the waves beating against its 
 sedge-encircled shores, utter only the most lugubrious sounds. 
 
 Near the centre of this lake rises a mountain of dark, greenish 
 colour, resembling an immense cairn constructed by the hands of 
 Titans. Upon its summit rests a cloud of white fog collected by 
 evaporation from the surrounding water, which has been condensed 
 by the freshness of the night. The numerous dark fissures distin- 
 guishable along the sides of this gigantic hill give it the appearance 
 of being a mass of lava — the debris vomited forth by some extinct 
 volcano — and at night, when the moon's rays fall obliquely upon its 
 flinks, it presents a vague resemblance to the scales of an alligator. 
 At the same time that this fancy is suggested, the huge Saurian it- 
 self may be heard, plunging among the reeds at its foot, and caus- 
 ing their culms to rattle against the rhomboid proturberances of his 
 hideous carapace. 
 
 The mournful and desolate aspect of this lake, as well as of the 
 shores that surround it — the eternal silence that reigns over it — the 
 bleak, lonely appearance of its island mountain — all combine to pro- 
 duce upon the spectator an irresistible impression of melancholy ; 
 and a spirit of superstitious inelinings cannot help giving way to 
 thoughts of the supernatural. No wonder that in such a place the 
 ancient aztec priests should have erected an altar for sanguinary sac* 
 
322 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 rifices ; and so strong is tradition, that even in modern times ths 
 lake of Ostuta and the mountain of Monopostiac, are invested with 
 supernatural attributes, and regarded by the vulgar with feelings of 
 awe. 
 
 It was to the shores of this lake that the domestic of Don Mari- 
 ano de Silva had conducted his master, certain of finding there a se 
 cure resting-place fbr the night. He knew that the country snr 
 rounding the lake was entirely uninhabited ; and the brigands of Ar 
 royo would scarce extend their excursions to such an unprofitable 
 foraging ground. The southern end of the lake was bordered by \ 
 strip of forest ; and it was in this forest that Don Mariano had de- 
 termined to make halt for the night. 
 
 A small glade surrounded by trees of many species was chosen by 
 the travellers as a place of their bivouac. The ground was coverec 
 with a carpet of soft grass, and many flowering shrubs and blossom 
 ing llianas, supported by the trees that grew around, yielded to th> 
 night an odorous incense that was wafted over the glade. It wus <; 
 in fact, a bower made by the hand of nature, over which was ex. 
 tended the dark blue canopy of the sky, studded with its millions ot 
 scintillating stars. 
 
 Don Mariano had selected this lovely spot with a design — that of 
 distracting his daughter's spirit from the sad reflections which tin 
 more gloomy portions of the forest might otherwise have called 
 up. 
 
 Shortly after halting, Dona Gertrudis had fallen asleep in he; 
 litem — through the curtains of which, only half closed, might be seer- 
 her soft cheek, white almost as the pillow upon which it lay. 
 
 Nature had almost repaired the outrage she had voluntarily com- 
 mitted on her long dark tresses ; but the life within her seemed fas; 
 hastening to an end, and her breathing told how feeble was the spirit 
 that now animated her bosom. 
 
 She appeared like one of the white passion-flowers growing neai 
 but more like one that had been plucked from the stem which 
 had been the source of its life and sw r eetness. 
 
 Don Mariano stood near the litem — gazing upon the pale face o 
 his child with feelings of sad tenderness. He could not help calling 
 up this very comparison — although it was torture to his soul ; foi 
 he knew that the ilovver once plucked must irrevocably wither anc 
 die. 
 
 At some distance from the litem, and nearer the edge of the lake- 
 three of the attendants were seated together upon the grass. They 
 were conversing, in low tones, for the purpose of passing the time, 
 
THE ENCHANTED LAKE. 
 
 3^ 
 
 The fourth, who was the guide already mentioned, had gone forward 
 through the woods — partly to search for the crossing, but also to 
 reconnoitre the path, and find out whether the road to San Carlos 
 wa-> clear of the guerilleros. 
 
 Through a break in the forest that surrounded the glade, the 
 enchanted mountain was visible — its sombre silhouette outlined 
 against the blue background of the sky. 
 
 lu all countries, every object that appears to vary from the 
 ordinary laws of nature, possesses, for the vulgar imagination, a 
 powerful interest ; and the servants of Don Mariano were no excep- 
 tion to the rule. 
 
 " I have heard it said," whispered one of them, "that the waters 
 of this lake now so muddy, were once as clear as crystal ; and that 
 it was only after they were consecrated to the devil, that they be- 
 came as they are now." 
 
 " Bah !" rejoined another, " I don't believe what they say about 
 the devil living up there upon thp Oerro encantado. He would 
 choose a more pleasant place for his residence. I should fancy." 
 
 " Well," said the first speaker, who was named Zefirino, and who 
 was better acquainted with the locality than either of his companions, 
 " whether the devil dwells there or not, some terrible things have 
 taken place on that mountain ; and it is said, still happen there. I 
 have heard that the fog which you see upon its summit, and which 
 always rests there at night, is extended over it by the god of the 
 Indians — who is only the devil himself. He does that to hide what 
 goes on up there. There's one strange story the Indians themselves 
 tell." 
 
 " What is it 1 Let us hear it, Zefirino." 
 
 "Well, you've heard how in old times the Indian priests had an 
 altar up yonder — upon which they used to sacrifice scores of human 
 beings — so that the blood ran down the fissures of the rock like 
 water after a shower of rain. Their plan was to cut open the 
 breast of the victim, and tear out his heart while still alive. But 
 why need I frighten you with a story that, by my faith, is fearful 
 enough ?" 
 
 " No — no — never mind ! Go on, Zefirino." 
 
 "Stay !" cried the other domestic. " Did you not hear a njise 
 — just down there by the edge of the lake?" 
 
 " Bah ! it's only an alligator snapping his jaws together. Go on, 
 Zefirino !" 
 
 " Well, comrades — the story is, that about five hundred years 
 ago, one of the unfortunate victims was about to be sacrificed in 
 
S&*" THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 this manner as usual. The cruel priest had opened his breast and 
 taken out the heart ; when, to the astonishment of all around, the 
 Indian seized hold of his own heart, and endeavoured to put it back 
 in its place. His hand, however, trembled, and the heart slipping 
 from his grasp, rolled down the mountain side and into the lake. 
 The Indian, uttering a terrible howl, plunged in after for the pur- 
 pose of recovering his heart from the water, and was never seen 
 again. Of course, a man like that could not possibly die; and for 
 five hundred years the Indian has been wandering round the shore 
 of the lake searching for his heart, and with his breast cut open, just 
 as the priest had left it. It's not more than a year ago that some 
 one saw this Indian, and just about here, too, on the southern shore 
 of the lake." 
 
 As Zenrino finished his narration, his two companions involuntarily 
 cast glances of terror towards the gloomy waters of the lake, as if in 
 dread that the legendary Indian might suddenly show himself. 
 Just at that moment, a rustling among the leaves caused all threo 
 of them to start to their feet, and stand trembling with fear. 
 
 Their alarm did not last long : for almost immediately after they 
 perceived that the noise had been caused by Castrillo, the guide — - 
 who, in the next moment, stepped forward into the glade. 
 
 " Well, Castrillo ! what have you seen ?" demanded his fellow 
 servants. 
 
 " Enough to make it necessary that I should at once communicate 
 with our master," and Castrillo passed on towards the litem, leav- 
 ing his companions to form their conjectures about what he had seea 
 as best they might. 
 
CHAPTER LXXIL 
 
 THE INVALID. 
 
 Ow perceiving the approach of the domestic, Don Mariano silently 
 closed the curtains of the litem, in order that the slumbers of Ger- 
 trudis might not be disturbed. 
 
 " Speak softly !" said he to the man, " my daughter is asleep." 
 
 The domestic delivered his report in an undertone. 
 
 " I have been almost as far as the hacienda ot San Carlos," said 
 he. "The road to the house is clear; and I should have gone up to 
 it, but for the strange sights which I saw there." 
 
 " Strange sights ! what sights, Castrillo ?" 
 
 " Oh, master ! I can hardly tell you what I saw — at least I cannot 
 explain ir. The windows were all lit up, but with such lights ! They 
 were blue and red, and of a purple colour, and they appeared to be 
 changing every instant, and moving about in the most mysterious 
 manner. While 1 stood looking at them, and trying to think what 
 it could mean, I saw a figure in white gliding past me in the dark- 
 ness, like some one not of this world." 
 
 "My worthy Castrillo, fear was troubling your senses. I am 
 afraid you only fancied these things ?" 
 
 " Oh, my master ! what I saw was but too real. If you had seen 
 these lights as I, you could not have doubted it. May it please God 
 that I may have been deceived !" 
 
 The tone of conviction in which the servant deliverea his report 
 produced its effect on Don Mariano ; and he could not help feeling 
 the unpleasant presentiment that some grand misfortune had hap- 
 pened to his daughter, Marianita, or her husband. 
 
 The information brought by Castrillo was only the reawakening 
 of a doubt that had been already oppressing him. 
 
 A prey to afflicting thoughts, he remained f^r awhile in that state 
 of silent uncertainty which follows the receipt of calamitous news 
 
 The servant having finished his report had joined his three com. 
 panions, and Don Mariano was alone. 
 
826 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Just then the curtains of the litera were drawn inside by a hand 
 from within, and the voice of Gertrudis interrupted for the moment 
 his gloomy reflections. 
 
 " My sleep has refreshed me," said the young girl ; " do you in- 
 tend soon to continue your journey, father? It is near daybreak, 
 is it not r 
 
 " It is not yet midnight, nina. It will be long before the day 
 breaks." 
 
 " Then why do you not go to sleep, dear father ? We are in safe- 
 ty here, I think ; and there is no reason why you should keep 
 awake." 
 
 " Dear Gertrudis, I do not desire to sleep until we are under the 
 roof of Marianita, and I can see you both together." 
 
 "Ah! Marianita is so very happy," sighed the invalid. "Her 
 life has been like one of the flowery paths we have been following 
 through the forest." 
 
 "And so will yours be yet, Gertrudis," rejoined Don Mariano 
 with an effort to console her. " It will not be long before Don Ra- 
 fael comes to see you." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I know he will come, since he has sworn it upon his 
 word of honour. He will come, but what then-?" murmured Ger- 
 trudis, with a melancholy smile. 
 
 " He will arrive to tell you that he still loves you," said Don 
 Mariano, affecting a conviction which, in reality, he did not feel. " It 
 is only a misunderstanding," he added. 
 
 "A misunderstanding that causes death, dear father," rejoined 
 Gertrudis, as she turned her head upon the pillow to conceal her 
 tears. 
 
 Don Mariano was unable to reply, and an interval of silence suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 Then Gertrudis, by one of these sudden reactions, common to 
 invalids, seemed all at once inspired with a fresh hope, and raising 
 her head, she inquired — 
 
 " Do you think the messenger has had time to reach Don Rafa- 
 el?" 
 
 " He would be three days in getting from Oajaca to the hacienda 
 Del Valle ; and if Don Rafael, as we have since heard, is at Hua- 
 japarn, in two days more the messenger should reach him. He has 
 been gone four days ; therefore, in four more, at the most, Don Ra- 
 fael should arrive at San Carlos, where he will know we are await- 
 ins: him." 
 
THE INVALID. 327 
 
 " Four days !" murmured Gertrudis. " Oh ! it is a long, long 
 time !" 
 
 Gertrudis did not dare to add, what she feared at the moment, that 
 her life might not last so long. 
 
 After a moment of silence she continued — 
 
 "And besides, when, with a blush upon my cheeks, and my eyes 
 turned away, I hear Don Rafael say to me, ' You have sent for me, 
 Gertrudis, I have come,' what answer can 1 make ? Oh, father ! I 
 shall die of grief and shame ; for 1 shall then feel that he no longer 
 loves me. He will see me as 1 am — a ruin — only a shadow of my 
 former self, with my health gone, and my freshness faded. Likely 
 enough, generosity will prompt him to feign a love which he does 
 not feel, and which I could not believe in. What proof could he 
 give that his words would only be spoken out of compassion for 
 mer 
 
 '• Who can tell V said Don Mariano. " Perhaps he may give 
 you some proof that you cannot help believing in his sincerity." 
 
 " Do not wish it, father, if you love me; for if he should offer a 
 proof I cannot refuse to believe in, I feel that I should die of joy. 
 Poor father !" continued she, with a choking sigh, and throwing her 
 arms round his neck, "in either case you are likely soon to have but 
 one daughter." 
 
 At this mournful declaration Don Mariano could no longer re- 
 strain bis grief; and returning the embrace of Gertrudis, he min- 
 gled his tears with hers. Both wept aloud, their voices being audi- 
 ble to the centzontle, on a neighbouring tree — that catching up the 
 mournful tones repeated them to the ear of night. 
 
 Just then the moon shot out from behind a thick mass of cloud9 
 that had hitherto been shrouding her from the sight ; and the land- 
 scape, illuminated by her silvery light, all a once assumed a less 
 lugubrious aspect. 
 
 The lake, as well as the forest on its shores, appeared less sombre; 
 and the corrugated flanks of the enchanted hill glanced with a vitre- 
 ous reflection like the greenish waves of an agitated sea. Upon the 
 surface of the water could be seen the hideous forms of huge alliga- 
 tors moving along the edge of the reeds, and now and then giving 
 utterance to their deep bellowing notes, as they disported themselves 
 under the light of the moon. 
 
 The domestics of Don Mariano, seated close together, more than 
 once fancied that they could distinguish the voices of human beings, 
 and all shivered with fear as they recalled the legend which Zefirino 
 had just related. 
 
3£8 THE TIGER HUNTER. 
 
 " I wish, comrades," said one of them, speaking in a tone of sub 
 dued terror, "1 wish that this night was well over. From the noises 
 we have heard, and those strange lights that Castrillo has seen, one 
 might fancy some terrible misfortune was to happen to-night! It 
 only wants the scream of an owl from one of the trees around here, 
 and then we may pray for the soul of our poor young mistress." 
 
 At that moment a voice — this time certainly a human voice — 
 proceeding from the direction of the lake, interrupted the speaker. 
 It seemed to arise out of the bosom of the water. 
 
 The four domestics started, and sat regarding each other with 
 looks of affright. There could be no doubt as to its being a human 
 voice which they had heard, as if intoning a song or chaunt, but 
 uttered in some unknown tongue — such as that in which the ancient 
 Indians used to converse with their divinities. 
 
 " Santissimo. mad re /" muttered one of the domestics, "what if it 
 should be the Indian searching for his heart 1" 
 
 His companions made no other answer than by nodding their 
 heads to signify that such had been the thought of each. 
 
 At this moment another noise reached them. It was a rustling as 
 of leaves, and almost simultaneously they saw the figure of a man 
 making his way through the reeds that grew by the edge of the 
 water. 
 
 In the clear light of the moon they could see that his skin was of 
 a bronze or copper colour — in other words, that he was an Indian. 
 
 As he passed through the reeds he parted their stems with his out- 
 stretched arms — at the same time keeping his eyes bent downwards 
 as if searching for something. 
 
 After reaching the edge of the open water, he plunged in ; and, 
 swimming vigorously out into the lake, appeared to direct himself to- 
 wards the enchanted hill. 
 
 " God of heaven !" muttered Zefirino, in an accent of terror. " It 
 is the Indian searching for his heart !" 
 
AN AERIAL COUCH. P29 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIIL 
 
 AN AERIAL COUCH. 
 
 After escaping from the company of Arroyo and his bandits, 
 Don Cornelio mechanically followed the guidance of Costal — who 
 was now aiming to reach the lake of Ostuta as soon as possible, in 
 order that he might commence his incantations before the rising of 
 the moon. 
 
 Don Cornelio knew that it would be breath thrown away to attempt 
 persuading the Indian to abandon his absurd and superstitious de- 
 sign ; and to propose accompanying him, and becoming either ac- 
 tor or spectator in the pagan ceremony, would be equally against 
 the wishes of Costal. 
 
 After they had ridden for some distance towards the lake, the Cap 
 tain admonished his companions of his intention to stay behind and 
 wait for their return, after they should have accomplished their pur. 
 pose, and had their interview with Tlaloc and his wife Matlacuezc ; 
 Costal was only too glad to agree to this proposition ; and promised 
 to find a proper halting place for Don Cornelio at some distance from 
 the shores of the lake. There was no house of any kind in the 
 vicinity, not even the meanest hut. This, Costal, from his perfect 
 knowledge of the locality, was aware of ; but the night was a pleas- 
 ant one, and a few hours might be passed in the open air without any 
 great inconvenience. 
 
 Shortly after, the cool freshness of the breeze proclaimed that the 
 lake was not far off; and a pleasant grove of shady palm-trees of 
 fered an inviting shelter to Don Cornelio. It was the spot which 
 Costal had designed for this halting-place ; and here, parting from 
 the two acolytes, the Captain dismounted, and prepared to make him- 
 self as comfortable as possible duridng their absence. Meanwhile 
 
330 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Costal and Clara kept on towards the lake, and were soon lost to 
 view under the shadow of the forest. 
 
 Don Cornelio had not been long toft to himself, ere he began to 
 rue the disposition thus made of him. It now occurred to him, and 
 not without reason, that the comrades of Gaspachio might fancy to 
 avenge the brigand's death, and for that purpose follow him and his 
 two attendants through the forest. Arroyo would now be ab- 
 sent from the hacienda , Don Cornelio had heard him proclaim his 
 intention of going in search of its mistress ; and his subaltern might 
 pay less respect to the emissary of Morelos than their chief. 
 
 These considerations influencing the spirit of Don Cornelio, pro. 
 duced within him a certain degree of uneasiness — sufficient to maka 
 him discontented with the position he had chosen. 
 
 Determined to get nearer to Costal — whom he looked upon al- 
 most as his natural protector — he remounted his horse, and contin- 
 ued along the path that had been taken by the other two. 
 
 After riding a few hundred yards, he discerned rising up before 
 his face a high hill crowned with mist ; and shortly after, the woods 
 becoming more open, he was enabled to perceive that this hill was 
 surrrounded by a large lake of dark, sombre aspect. Though he now 
 looked upon both the lake and mountain fop the first time, he had 
 no difficulty in identifying them as the Lake Ostuta and the sacred 
 mountain of Monopostiac. 
 
 A belt of forest still lay between him and the lake, extending 
 around its southern end. Entering into the timber, he rode nearly 
 across it, until the reedy shore of the lake came in view through the 
 openings between the trees. Here he again halted, and after a mo- 
 ment's reflection, <?ismounted. 
 
 Although the change of locality might make it more difficult for 
 the brigands of Arroyo to discover his retreat, he was not so certain 
 of being free from danger. To render his situation more secure, ho 
 determined upon climbing into a tree and concealing himself among 
 the branches. 
 
 He had another motive for treeing himself. At a short distancf 
 from the spot he saw the horses of Costal and Clara, standing tier 
 to some bushes; and he knew that their owners could not be fai 
 off. No doubt it was there they intended to go through tneir at 
 surd rites ; and all at once Don Cornelio had become inspired witl 
 a curiosity to witness them. His christian conscience slightly re 
 proached him, for thus assisting, as it were, at a pagan ceremony , 
 but he ended by persuading himself that there would be somethinc 
 meritorious in his being a witness to the confusion of the infidel. 
 
AN AERIAL COUCH. 331 
 
 A tree at hand offered him a favourable point of observation. 
 jTrom its higher branches he could command a full view of the lake 
 and its shores to a considerable distance on each side of him, and 
 also the sacred mountain in its midst. 
 
 Securing his horse below, he ascended the tree, and seated him- 
 self among its topmost branches. He had taken the precaution to 
 carry up his carbine along with him, which was hanging from his 
 shoulders upon its sling. 
 
 He had just fixed himself- commodiously upon his perch, when 
 the full moon appeared, at once lighting up the waters of the lake 
 with her most brilliant beams. 
 
 He looked to discover the whereabouts of Costal and the negro ; 
 but for some time he could see nothing of either. The enchanted 
 hill, glistening with a vitreous translucence under the white moon- 
 beams, presented, a wild, weird aspect ; and, from time to time, 
 strange unearthly sounds appeared to proceed from it, as also 
 from the woods around. 
 
 The nerves of the ex-student were at no time the strongest ; and 
 he had not long occupied his elevated post before he began to rue 
 his rashness, in having trusted himself alone in a place which seemed 
 to be the abode of the supernatural. 
 
 All at once a sound reached him, proceeding from the margin of 
 the lake ; and turning his eyes in that direction, he beheld the figure 
 of a naked man moving among the reeds. It was the same appari- 
 tion that-had caused such alarm among the domestics of Don Mari- 
 ano, who although unseen by the Captain, were at that moment only 
 fifty paces diftant, screened behind the bushes that grew around the 
 glade in which they had encamped. 
 
 The apparition, although it at first started Don Cornelio, did not 
 frighten him so much as it had the domestics ; for, by the light of 
 the moon, he was enabled to recognize the figure as that of his at- 
 tendant, Costal. The Captain, moreover, saw — what, from their 
 position, was invisible to the people in Don Mariano's camp-r- 
 am >t her human figure, naked like the first, but differing from it in 
 the colour of the skin, which was black as ebony. 
 
 Both having passed through the reeds, plunged at once into the 
 open water of the lake ; and, swimming off towards the enchanted 
 mountain, were soon lost to the eyes of Don Cornelio, as well as 
 to those of the affrightened attendants of Don Mariano. 
 
 While the latter remained under the full conviction that they had 
 seen the Indian who, for five hundred years, had been vainly search- 
 
332 THE TIGER HUNTER. 
 
 ing for his heart, Don Cornelio knew that the two adventurers were 
 his own followers, Costal and Clara. 
 
 From the direction they had taken through the water, he divined 
 that it was their object to reach the mountain island, there, no doubt, 
 to practice their superstitious ceremonial. 
 
 Although somewhat disappointed at being deprived of a specta- 
 cle he had felt curious to witness, he still remained on his perch 
 upon the tree. His apprehension of being pursued by the I audits 
 of Arroyo had not yet forsaken him ; and in such a contingency, 
 he believed that he would be safer amciig the branches than upon 
 the ground. He could watch fov Cental and Clara coming back 
 through the water, and then rej.x * them as they returned to take 
 possession of their horses, whicf* . »crc still visible to him from his 
 elevated post. 
 
 For a short time he remained ,n his position without heaiing any 
 noise in particular, or seeing anything calculated to alarm him. 
 Then a sound reached his ears that came from a direction opposite 
 to that in which lay the lake. Jt was a booming sound, like the re- 
 port of a cannon — shortly after followed by another and another of 
 precisely similar intonation. 
 
 Don Cornelio had no suspicion that at that very moment the haci- 
 enda of San Carlos was being attacked by the garrison of Del Valle, 
 and that the noise he heard was the report of the howitzer battering 
 the gates of the building. 
 
 Although at first rendered uneasy by these inexplicable sounds, as 
 they soon after ceased to be repeated, Don Cornelio no longer troubled 
 himself to explain them. He had heard so many ofners, as myste- 
 rious as they, that he despaired of finding an explanation. As time 
 passed, however, and neither Costal nor Clara showed themselves, 
 the Captain began to feel a strong desire to sleep, and his eyelids 
 every moment grew heavier, until at length he felt that he could no 
 longer resist the desire. Like Colonel Tres-Villas, on the prececd 
 ing night, he took the precaution, before committing himself to 
 slumber, of making secure against a fall ; and for this purpose he 
 attached himself with his sash to one of the branches. In another 
 minute he was in the land of dreams, unconscious of the singularity 
 of the couch on which he was reclining. 
 
THE GODDESS OF THE WATERS. 333 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIV. 
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE WATERS. 
 
 f?Q* the. first hour the sleep of Don Cornel io was undisturbed 
 even by dreams. With the second it was very different; for, 
 scarcely had he entered upon it, when a noise sounded in his ears 
 singular as it was terrible. He awoke with a start, on hearing, 
 what appeared to be the loud clanging of a bell rung at no great 
 distance off. 
 
 At first he fancied he was dreaming, and that what he heard in 
 his dreams was the bell of his native village ; but a moment's reflec- 
 tion sufficed to convince him that he was awake, and couched in the 
 fork of a small tree. 
 
 The sounds that had ceased for awhile, now recommenced ; Don 
 Cornelio was able to count twelve strokes, clear and distinctly 
 measured, as if some large clock was tolling the hour of mid- 
 night. 
 
 It was, in fact, just about that hour — as Don Cornelio could tell 
 by the moon , but the observation did not hinder him from shud- 
 dering afresh at the mysterious sounds. From his elevated position 
 he could see afar over both land and water. But no spire of village 
 church or hacienda was visible — nothing but the sombre surface of 
 the lake, the spray of the far-stretching forest, and the desert plains 
 in the distance. ■ 
 
 The tolling again vibrated upon the air ; and Don Cornelio was 
 now convinced that it was from the lake itself, or the enchanted 
 mountain in its midst, that the sounds proceeded. It seemed as if 
 it was a signal, to awaken the Indian divinities from their slee*> of 
 ages. 
 
354 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Trie moon was still rising higher in the heavens, and her brilliant 
 beams broadly illumined the lake, even penetrating through the 
 thickly-set stems of the reeds that bordered it. 
 
 Certuin vague noises that had from time to time fallen upon the 
 ear of Don Cornelio, while half slumbering, now that he was awake, 
 were hea.d more distinctly; and after a little while these sounds 
 became converted into long and dismal howlings, such as he never 
 before heard in his life. 
 
 Upon just such another night he had been sorely frightened by the 
 howling of jaguars ; but all the tigers in the world could not have pro- 
 duced such a frightful noise as that with which his ears were now as- 
 sailed. It was a chorus of voices entirely new to him, and thai 
 seemed to proceed from the powerful lungs of some gigantic creature 
 hitherto unknown. 
 
 As thoughts of the supernatural came into his mind, the Captain 
 shivered through his whole frame ; and, had he not been tied to its 
 branches, he would certainly have fallen from the tree. 
 
 His horse, standing below, appeared fully to partake of his terror;, 
 for after dancing about, aud causing the branches to crackle, the 
 animal at length broke away from its fastenings, and, galloping ofl£ 
 joined company with the horses of Costal and Clara that stood near- 
 er the edge of the water. 
 
 The terrible howlings, combined with the mysterious tolling of 
 the bell, produced upon the mind of Don Cornelio other impressions 
 besides those of mere dread. He began to believe in a supernatur- 
 al presence ; and that the sounds he heard were the voices of those 
 pagan divinities whom Costal had the boldness to invoke. 
 
 Captain Lantejas .vas not the only person whom these strange 
 noises had inspired with fear. A little more than gunshot distance 
 from him, and hidden behind the trees, could be.seen a number of 
 men closly grouped together, and whispering' their fears to one 
 another. It need scarcely be said that they were the domestics of 
 Don Mariano, who had counted with equal terror and astonishment 
 the twelve strokes of the mysterious midnight bell. 
 
 Their master, too, had heard the tolling, and was vainly endeav- 
 oring to account for the singular phenomenon. 
 
 Just then the frightful howlings came pealing from the woods be- 
 hind, awaking Gertrudis, and causing her to raise her head with a 
 cry of terror. The seven sleepers themselves would have been awak- 
 ened by such a terrible fracas of noises. 
 
THE GODDESS OF THE WATERS. 335 
 
 At this moment one of the domestics — Castrillo — appeared by the 
 litem, his face blanched with affright. 
 
 " What misfortune have you to announce ?" inquired Don Mari- 
 ano, struck with the expression upon the servant's countenance. 
 
 " Not any, Senor Don Mariano,' 1 replied the domestic, " unless to 
 say that we are here in some accursed place, and the sooner we get 
 out of it the better." 
 
 " Get your arms ready," rejoined Don Mariano, " it must be the 
 jaguars that are howling near us." 
 
 " Ah ! Senor master," replied the domestic, with a shake of his 
 head, "never did jaguar howl after that fashion; and all our wea- 
 pons will be useless where the spirit of darkness is against us. Lis- 
 ten, there — again !" 
 
 Once more a series of prolonged vociferations came echoing through 
 the forest, which certainly had but little resemblance either of ja- 
 guars or any other known animals. 
 
 " There have been many strange things during this night," gravely 
 continued Castrillo. "Everything in nature seems to be turned 
 upside down. Dead men have been seen by us wandering about; 
 bells have been heard tolling where there is neither church nor 
 dwelling, and now the devil himself is howling in the depths of 
 the forest. Oh, master, let us fly from this place while we may !" 
 
 " But where too 1 where can we go ?" rejoined Don Mariano, 
 casting an anxious glance towards the litera. "My poor child — she 
 can scarce endure the fatigues of the journey." 
 
 " Oh, father," said Gertradis, " do not think of me. I shall be 
 able to go on ; and I would rather go afoot, than remain longer in 
 this frightful place." 
 
 -Senor Don Mariano," continued the domestic, "if you will pray 
 God to protect us from the danger that threatens, I and the others 
 will go after the mules, and we shall get ready for marching. Above 
 all, we must leave this place at once; for if you stay I could not 
 hinder the rest from running away." 
 
 "Very well, then," said D«>;i Mariano, " be it as you wish. Plar- 
 ness the animals and let us start at once. We shall endeavor to 
 reach San Carlos." 
 
 That which Don Mariano and his people were about to make — a 
 movement from the place apparently haunted — the Captain Lante- 
 jas would not have attempted for all the gold in Mexico. Glued by 
 fear to the summit of his tree, and cursing the evil fortune that had 
 conducted him thither — regretting, moreover, his foolish curiosity— 
 
836 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 he continued to listen, though almost mechanically, to what he be- 
 lieved to be a dialogue between some Indian divinity and his fearless 
 worshipper. Costal. 
 
 All at once the noises came to a termination ; and a profound si- 
 lence succeeded, which was equally fearful to endure. 
 
 This was of short duration, however; for in a few moments the 
 stillness of the night was once more interrupted by other and dif- 
 ferent noises, that resembled Human voiees uttered at a considerable 
 distance from the spot. 
 
 Gradually the voices were heard approaching nearer, and Don 
 Cornelio was under the impression that it was Costal and Clara re- 
 turning to where they had left their horses. lie was mistaken about 
 this, however, and soon perceived his error. The voices proceeded 
 from the direction he had himself followed in approaching the lake. 
 
 Costal and Clara could not be coming that way. Moreover, he now 
 saw lights that appeared to be torches carried by those who were 
 talking; and from the rapidity with which the lights flitted from point 
 to point, they could only be borne by men on horseback. The In- 
 dian aud negro could not be mounted, since their horses were still 
 standing tied where they had left them, along with his own steed, 
 that had just taken refuge by their side. It could net be Costal and 
 Clara who carried the torches. 
 
 " Who then V mentally demanded Don Cornelio ; " might it be 
 Arroyo and his bandits ?V 
 
 He had scarce given thought to the conjecture, when a troop of 
 horsemen rode out upon the open ground near the edge of the lake ; 
 and two of them at the head of the others were instantly recognised 
 by Don Cornelio. They were, in truth, Arroyo and his associate, Bo- 
 card o. 
 
 The horsemen carrying the torches were seen riding from one 
 point to another, quartering the ground by numerous crossings, and 
 exploring the thickets on every side, as if in search of some person 
 that had escaped them. 
 
 On approaching the border of the lake, the horsemen turned off 
 along the margin of reeds, without having perceived the three horses 
 that stood under the trees. 
 
 The torches were now thrown away ; and, riding off under the 
 pale moonlight, the horsemen disappeared from the eyes of Don 
 Cornelio. 
 
 He was not without uneasiness as to the peril in which his two 
 companions would be placed, should they chance to fall once more 
 into the hands of the bandits; and he would gladh have warned 
 
THE GODDESS OF THE WATERS. 33? 
 
 them of their danger, had he known how. But ignorant of the lo- 
 cality in which Costal and Clara were at that exact moment, he could 
 do nothing more than hope that they might perceive the horsemen 
 first, and conceal themselves while the latter were passing. From 
 Costal's habitual wariness, Don Cornelio felt confident, that the ex- 
 tiger-hunter would be able to keep himself clear of this new dan- 
 ger. 
 
 The captain followed with anxious eyes the forms of the retreat- 
 ing horsemen; and his heart beat more tranquilly when he saw 
 them turn round an angle of the lake, and disappear altogether from 
 his sight. 
 
 The moon at this moment shining more brilliantly, enabled him to 
 command a better view of the waters of the lake, and the selvage 
 of reeds growing around it. Once more silence was reigning over 
 the scene, when all at once Don Cornelio fancied he saw a movement 
 among the sedge, as if some one was making his way through it. 
 In another instant a form, at first shadowy and indistinct, appeared 
 before his eyes. Presently it assumed the outline of a human form, 
 and what astonished Don Cornelio still more, it was the form of a 
 woman ! This he saw distinctly ; and perceived also that the woman 
 was dressed in a sort of white garment, with long dark hair hanging 
 in disordered tresses over her shoulders. 
 
 A cold perspiration broke out upon the brow of Don Cornelio, as 
 the female form was recognised, and his eyes became fixed upon it, 
 without his having the power to take them off*. He doubted not 
 that he saw before him the companion of Tlaloc, the terrible Mat* 
 latacuezc, who had just risen from her watery place in the Lake Os 
 tuta, whence she had been summoned by the invocations of Costal, 
 the descendant of the aaoient rulers of Tehuantepec ! 
 
S3S THE TIGER-HUNTE*. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXV. 
 
 TOLLING THE SUMMONS. 
 
 We return to Costal. We have seen the Zapoteque making hia 
 way through the sedge, and boldly launching himself into the mud- 
 dy waters of the lake—his blind fatalism rendering him regardless 
 of the voracious alligators of the Ostuta, as he had already shown 
 himself of the sharks of the Pacific. Could the eye of Don Cornelio 
 have followed him under the gloomy shadow which the enchanted 
 hill projected over the lake, it would have seen him emerge from the 
 water upon the shore of the sacred Cerro itself, his black skinned 
 associate closely following at his heels. 
 
 The mountain Monopostiac is neither more nor less than a gigan- 
 ic rock of obsidian, of a dark greenish hue. having its flanks irreg- 
 ularly furrowed by vertical fissures and ridges. This peculiar kind 
 of rock, under the sun, or in a very bright moonlight, gives forth 
 a sort of dull translucence, resembling the reflection of glass. The 
 vitreous glistening of its sides, taken in conjunction with the mass 
 of thick white fog which usually robes the summit of the mountain, 
 offers to the eye an aspect at once fantastic and melancholy. 
 
 At certain places, of which Costal had a perfect knowledge, are 
 huge boulders of obsidian, resting along the declivities of the Cerro, 
 and which, when struck by a hard substance, gives forth a sonorous 
 ring, having some resemblance to the sound of a bell. 
 
 After climbing some way up the steep declivity of the mountain, 
 Costal and his neophyte halted by one of these boulders. Now ap- 
 
TOLLING THE SUMMONS. 3C9 
 
 parently absorbed in profound meditation, now muttering in a low 
 tone, and in the language of his fathers, certain prayers, the Zapote- 
 que awaited that hour when the moon should reach its meridian, in 
 order to come to the grand crisis of his invocation. 
 
 It would bo a tedious detail were we to describe the many ab- 
 surd ceremonials practised by Costal to induce the genius of the 
 waters to appear before him, and make known the means by which 
 he might restore the ancient splendours of his race. Certainly, if 
 perseverance and courage could have any influence with the Indian 
 divinities, Costal deserved all the favours they could lavish upon 
 him. 
 
 Although up to this moment neither Tlaloc nor Matlacuese had 
 given the least sign of having heard his prayers, his countenance 
 exhibited such hopeful confidence, that Clara, gazing upon it, felt 
 fully convinced that upon this occasion there was not the slightest 
 chance of a failure. 
 
 Up to the time of the moon reaching the meridian — the moment 
 so eagerly expected — more than an hour was spent in every sort of 
 preparation for the grand crisis. Up to that moment, moreover, 
 Costal had preserved a grand and profound silence, enjoining the 
 same upon Clara. The silence related only to conversation between 
 them. Otherwise Costal had from time to time, as already stated, 
 given utterance to prayers, spoken, however, in a low muttered 
 voice. 
 
 The moment had now arrived when the dialogue of the two aco- 
 lytes was to be resumed. 
 
 " Clara," said the Zapoteque, speaking in a grave tone, " when the 
 gods of my ancestors, invoked by a descendant of the ancient Cac- 
 iques of Tehuantepec, who has seen fifty seasons of rains — when they 
 hear the sounds which I am now about to make, and for which they 
 have listened in vain for more than three centuries, some one of 
 them will appear beyond any doubt." 
 
 " I hope so,'' responded Clara. 
 
 " Certain they will appear/' said Costal ; " but which of them it 
 may be, I know not ; whether Tlaloc or his companion Matla- 
 cuezc." 
 
 " I suppose it makes no difference," suggested the negro. 
 
 " Matlacuezc," continued Costal, " would be easily known. She 
 is a goddess ; and, of course, a female. She always appears in a 
 white robe — pure and white as the blossom of the floripondio. 
 When her hair is not wound around her head, it floats loosely over 
 her shoulders, like the mantilla of a senora of high degree, Her eyes 
 
840 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 shine like two stars, and her voice is sweeter than that of the moek« 
 ing-bird. For all that, her glance is terrifying to a mortal, and there 
 are not many who could bear it. 
 
 " Oh, I can bear it," said the negro ; " no fear of that." 
 
 " Tlaloc," continued Costal, *' is tall as a giant. His head is en- 
 circled with a chaplet of living serpents, that, entwined among his 
 hair, keep up a constant hissing. His eye is full of fire, like that 
 of the jaguar ; and his voice resembles the roaring of an angry bull. 
 Reflect, then, while it is yet time, whether you can bear such a sight 
 as that." 
 
 " I have told you," replied Clara, in a resolute tone, "that I wish 
 for gold ; and it matters little to me whether Tlaloc or his wife 
 shows me the placer where it is to be found. By all the gods, 
 Christian and pagan ! 1 have not come thus far to be frightened 
 back without better reason than 'that No !" 
 
 " You are firmly resolved, comrade ? 1 sec you are. Now, then 
 — I shall proceed to invoke my gods." 
 
 On saying these words, the Indian took up a large stone, and 
 advancing to the boulder of obsidian, struck the stone against one 
 of its angles with all his might. The collision produced a sound 
 resembling that of a brazen instrument ; in fact, like the stroke of 
 a bell. 
 
 Twelve times did Costal repeat the stroke, each time with equal 
 force The sounds echoed over the waters of the lake, and through 
 the aisles of the forest on its shores j but their distant murmu rings 
 had scarce died upon the air, when a response came from the woods. 
 This was given in a series of the most frightful howiings — the same 
 which had terrified Captain Lantejas upon his tree, and which Don 
 Mariano had found himself unable to explain. 
 
 Clara partook of a terror almost equal to that of Don Cornelio, 
 but it arose from a different cause. He had no other belief, but 
 that the howling thus heard was the response vouchsafed by the 
 pagan gods to the invocation of his companion. After a moment 
 his confidence became restored, and he signed to Costal to continue. 
 
 " Sound again !" said he, in a low but firm voice, " it is Tlaloc 
 who has responded. Sound again !" 
 
 Hie Indian cast a glance upon his companion, to assure himself 
 that he was in earnest. The moon showed his face of a greyish 
 tint ; but the expression of his features told that he spoke serious- 
 
 " Bah!" exclaimed Costal, with a sneer, " ar3 you so little skilled 
 
TOLLING THE SUMMONS. 
 
 341 
 
 in the ways of the woods, as to mistake the voice of a vile animal 
 for that of the gods of the Zapoteque V 
 
 " What ! an animal to make a noise like that?" interrogated Clara 
 in a tone of surprise. 
 
 " Of course it is an animal," rejoined Costal, " that howls so. 
 Sufficiently frightful, I admit — to those who do not know what sort 
 of creature it is ; but to those who do, it is nothing." 
 
 " What kind of animal is it?" demanded Clara. 
 
 "Why, an ape; what else? A poor devil of a monkey, that 
 you could knock over with a bit of a stick ; as easily as you could 
 kill an opossum. Ah, hombre ! the voice of the great Tlaloc is more 
 terrible than that. But see ! what have we yonder ?" 
 
 As Costal spoke he pointed to the shore of the lake whence they 
 had come, and near the point where they had left their horses. It 
 was in this direction, moreover, the howlings of the ape had been 
 heard. 
 
 Clara followed the pointing of his companion, and both now saw 
 what gave a sudden turn to their thoughts — a party of horsemen 
 carrying torches, and scouring the selvage of the woods, as if in 
 search of something they had lost. 
 
 The two worshippers watched until the torches were put out, and 
 the horsemen passing round the shore disappeared under the shad- 
 ows of a strip of forest. 
 
 Costal was about to resume his invocations ; when, with his eyes 
 still turned towards the point where the horsemen had left the shore 
 of the lake, he beheld an apparition that caused even his intrepid 
 heart to tremble. By the thicket of reeds, and close to the water's 
 edge, a white form appeared suddenly, as if it had risen out of the 
 lake. It was the same which had been seen by Don Cornelio from 
 his perch upon the tree. 
 
 It was not fear that caused the Zapoteque to tremble. It was an 
 emotion of exulting triumph. 
 
 "The time is come at last !" cried he, seizing the arm of his com- 
 panion. " The glory of the Caciques of Tehuantepec is now to be 
 restored. Look yonder !" 
 
 And as he spoke he pointed to the form, which, in the clear moon- 
 light, could be distinguished as that of a woman, dressed in a robe 
 as white as the floripondw, with long dark tresses floating over her 
 shoulders like the mantilla of some grand senora. 
 
 " It is Matlacuezc," muttered the negro in a low, anxious tone, 
 and scarce able to conceal the terror with which the apparition ha4 
 inspired him. 
 
$42 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 " Beyond doubt," hurriedly replied Costal, gliding down tow&rfrs 
 the water, followed by the negro. 
 
 On arriving at the beach, both plunged into the lake, and com- 
 menced swimming back towards the shore. Although the form was 
 no longer visible to them from their low position in the water, Don 
 Cornelio could still see it glancing through the green stems of the 
 reeds, but no longer in motion. 
 
 Costal had taken the bearings of the place before committing him. 
 self to the water ; and, swimming with vigorous stroke, he soon 
 reached the shore several lengths in advance of his companion. 
 
 Don Cornelio could see both of the adventurers as they swam 
 back, and perceived, moreover, that the white form had been seen by 
 them, and it was towards this object that Costal was steering his 
 course. He saw the Indian approach close to it; and was filled 
 with surprise at beholding him stretch forth his arms, as if to grasp 
 the goddess of the waters, when all at once a loud voice sounded in 
 his ears, crying out the words — 
 
 " Death to the murderer of Gaspacho !" 
 
 Along with the voice a light suddenly flashed up among the bushes, 
 nnd the report of a carbine reverberated along the shores of the 
 1 ike. 
 
 Costal and Clara were both seen to dive at the shot ; and for a 
 time Don Cornelio could not see either of them. 
 
 The white form had also sunk out of sight, but near the spot 
 which it had occupied, the long reeds were seen to shake in a con- 
 fused manner, as if some one was struggling in their midst. 
 
 Don Cornelio could hear their stems crackle with the motion ; and 
 he fancied that a low cry of agony proceeded from the spot ; but the 
 moment after all was silent ; and the lake lay glistening under the 
 silvery moonbeam, with nothing visible in its waters, or upon its 
 shores, to break the tranquil stillness of its repose. 
 
THE PURSUIT. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVI. 
 
 THE PURSUIT. 
 
 Only for a very short interval did the shores of the lake Ostuta 
 preserve their silence. In a few moments after the white robe had 
 disappeared from the eyes of Don Cornelio, he saw Costal and 
 Clara rise to the surface of the water, and make their way rapidly 
 through the reeds in the direction of the bank. Presently both, ap- 
 peared on dry land at less than a hundred yards distance from where 
 he was perched. 
 
 - The tragedy of real life which he was now witnessing, had so sud- 
 denly mingled its scenes with the fancies that had just passed through 
 his mind, and he could scarcely distinguish the true from the fan- 
 tastic. Though he saw that his faithful followers were still alive 
 and well, the words he had heard, and the shot that succeeded them, 
 told him that they were in danger. That could be no fancy ; and its 
 reality was further confirmed on his perceiving two men, sabre in 
 hand, rush forth out of the bushes and make after Costal and Clara 
 with threatening cries and gestures. 
 
 The latter ran towards their horses. The sight of his two fol- 
 lowers in flight, completely restored Don Cornelio's senses ; and al- 
 most mechanically he caught hold of his carbine, which he had by 
 his side. 
 
 Resting the barrel over a fork of the branches, he sighted one of 
 the pursuers, and fired. At the report a bandit fell forward on his 
 face, who, after sprawling awhile upon the ground, lay motionless. 
 The other halted and bent over his comrade to see if he was dead. 
 
 The delay caused by this unexpected interruption of the pursuit 
 enabled the Indian and negro to reach their horses, and both naked 
 as they were, their skins glistening with the water of the lake, at once 
 leaped into their saddles, wheeled their horses round, and galloped 
 back towards the pursuers. 
 
344 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 It was now Costal's turn to pursue. 
 
 The bandit who still kept his feet had stopped only a moment 
 over his fallen companions; but that moment proved fatal lo him. 
 Before he could reach his own horse — which, in order to effect his 
 ambuscade, he had left behind him in the woods — the avenging Za- 
 poteque was upon him, who, galloping over, trampled him under 
 his horse's hoots, and then riding back, ran his long rapier through 
 the prostrate body without dismounting from his saddle. 
 
 Meanwhile Don Cornelio had made all haste to descend from the 
 tree; and hurrying forward called his followers by name. 
 
 "Ah! Senor Capitan," cried Costal, seeing him advance, "I am 
 glad you are still on your feet. Seeing your horse along with ours 
 I had fears that some misfortune had happened to you. Quick !" 
 continued he, addressing himself to Clara, and leaping out of the 
 
 saddle, " we must back to the lake at once, else Matlacuezc . 
 
 Senor Don Cornelio, you will be good enough to wait for us here. 
 We have important matters on hand, and need to be alone." 
 
 At this moment, however, a new inei< cut arose to interrupt the 
 designs of Costal. Five horsemen, and a litera carried by mules, 
 appeared suddenly in the open ground by the edge of the v cod. It 
 was Don Mariano with his domestics. 
 
 Having heard Don Cornelio pronounce the well-known r.r.mcs of 
 two of his old servitors, the hacieudado had advanced in the direc- 
 tion whence the voice proceeded, full of hope in this unexpected 
 succour which heaven seemed to have sent to him. lie had seen 
 the party of brigands as they rode past with their torches; and his 
 people easily recognized their old fellow-servants, Arroyo and Bo- 
 cardo. It was a relief to know that two more faithful than they — 
 Costal and Clara- were in the same neighbourhood. He advanced, 
 therefora, calling them by name, while he also pronounced the name 
 of Lantejas — asking if it were the Don Cornelio Lantcjas who had 
 once been his guest at the hacienda of Las Palmas. 
 
 "Yes; certainly 1 am the same," replied the Captain, agreeably 
 surprised at thus finding himself among friends, in a place which, 
 up to that moment, had appeared to him so melancholy and deso- 
 late. 
 
 Before any conversation could take place between Don Cornelio 
 and his former host, an incident of a still more thrilling character 
 was to be enacted on the scene. From behind the belt of the ce- 
 drela forest — into which Arroyo and his followers had ridden but a 
 few minutes before — six horsemen were seen debouching at full gal- 
 
THE PURSUIT. 345 
 
 lop, as if riding for their lives ; while close upon their heels came 
 six others, who appeared straining after them in eager pursuit ! 
 
 For a moment the six in front seemed to waver in their course — 
 as if undecided as to what direction they should take. Only for a 
 moment, however, and then heading their horses along the shore of 
 the lake, they pressed on in wildest flight. Galloping at such a 
 rapid pace they appeared not to see either the party of Don Mari- 
 ano or Don Cornelio and his two followers — who on their part had 
 scarce time to draw back into the bushes, ere the horsemen went 
 sweeping past the spot like a cloudof dust 
 
 Despite the rapidity of their course, however, the keen eye of 
 Costal enabled him to distinguish among the horsemen two of his 
 fellow servants of Las Palmas — Arroyo and Bocardo. 
 
 " We are on dangerous ground here, comrade,'" said he hi a whis- 
 per to Clara. " It is Arroyo and Bocardo, pursued, no doubt, by 
 the royalists. Whichever wins it Is no good for us." 
 
 He had scarce finished his speech, when the six horsemen in pur- 
 suit passed the group, going at a pace not less rapid and furious than 
 the others. O.ie of the pursuers, of commanding figure, was sever- 
 al lengths ahead of the other five. Bent cbown almost to the level 
 of the horse's neck, he appeared to be straining every muscle in the 
 pursuit ; and although his horse seemed rather to fly than gallop, 
 the rider still kept urging him with the spur. 
 
 Clutching convulsively his broad-brimmed sombrero — which the 
 rapid course had lifted from his head — he crushed it down over his 
 brows in such a manner that his face was almost hidden by it. His 
 horse at the same instant, whether frightened by the litem of Ger- 
 trudis, or by some other object, shied suddenly to one side — as he 
 did so giving utterance to a strange snorting sound which was re- 
 sponded to by a feeble cry from behind the curtains of the litera. 
 
 The cry was not heard by the horseman, who, absorbed with the 
 pursuit of his enemy, passed on without turning his head. 
 
 Gertrudis was not the only one who trembled with emotion on 
 recognising the snort of the steed. It brought vividly to the 
 remembrance of Captain Lantejas the chase he had sustained on the 
 plain of Huajapam — just before the powerful arm of Colonel Tres- 
 Viilas had lifted him out of his stirrups. 
 
 Neither could Don Mariano fail to recognise the peculiarity of a 
 steed that he had so long kept in his stables; and as for the rider, 
 the figure appeared to answer for that of Don Rafael. Could it 
 indeed be he whom they believed to be at the seige of Huajapam ? 
 
346 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Don Mariano could scarce doubt that it was Colonel Tres-V.llas 
 who had ridden past. 
 
 " By all the devils in hell !" cried Costal, swearing like a pagan 
 as he was ; " what has set the world mad on this particular night ? 
 What sends everybody this way, to interrupt the worshippers of 
 the great Tlaloc?" 
 
 " True, it is damnably vexatious," rejoined Clara, who was 
 equally chagrined at this sudden and unexpected intrution upon 
 what he regarded as the only chance they might ever have of an 
 interview with the gold-finding goddess. 
 
 Putting off their invocations to a more favourable opportunity, 
 both Indian and negro now hastened away to dress and arm them- 
 selves, in order that they might be in readiness for any untoward 
 event ; while Don Cornelio stayed beside the haciendado and his 
 party. 
 
 As yet uncertain how to act, Don Mariano thought it better to 
 remain where he was, and await the result Of an action which he 
 could not regard otherwise than with anxiety. It is needless to say 
 that the occupant of the litera listened with still more vivid emotion 
 mingled with deep apprehension, to the sounds that rung back along 
 the shores of the lake. 
 
 The chase was soon too distant to be witnessed by the eye, but 
 upon the still night air could be heard confused cries of terror and 
 vengeance — which indicated to all that the pursuers were closing 
 rapidly upon the pursued. 
 
YENGEANCE FORBOESfi. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVII. 
 
 VENGEANCE FORBORNE. 
 
 By a lucky accident Don Rafael, after leaving the hacienda of 
 San Carlos, had ascertained that the bandit chieftains were no longer 
 within its walls. He had also learnt the object that had carried 
 them out — the same that was influencing himself, only from a far 
 different motive. A renegade guerillero had made known to him 
 the intentions of Arroyo in regard to Dona Marianita; and it is 
 needless to say that the noble spirit of Don Rafael was, on hearing 
 this report, only the more stimulated to overtake and destroy the 
 bandit chieftain. 
 
 Guided by numerous signs — which the bandits, unsuspicious of 
 being pursued, had left along their track — Don Rafael and his party 
 found no difficulty in following them, almost at full speed. In less 
 than an hour after leaving the hacienda, they had arrived within 
 sight of Arroyo and his followers — still continuing the search for 
 Dona Marianita, along the borders of the lake. The impetuosity 
 of Don Rafael's vengeance had hindered him from using caution in 
 his approach — else he might at once have come hand to hand with 
 the detested enemy. As it was, he had advanced towards them into 
 the open ground; and going at full gallop, under the clear moon- 
 light, his party had been discovered by the bandits long before they 
 could get within shot range. Arroyo, from whose thoughts the 
 terrible Colonel was never for a moment absent, at once recognised 
 him at the head of the approaching troop, and, giving the alarm to 
 Bocardo — who equally dreaded an encounter with Don Rafael — the 
 two brigands put spurs to their horses and rode off in dastardly 
 flight. Of course they were followed by their four comrades, who, 
 
S4S THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 recalling the fate of Panchita Jolas, had no desire to risk the recep- 
 tion of a similar treatment. 
 
 The sight of that hated enemy — for whom Don Ttafael had so 
 long fruitlessly searched — stirred within him all the angry energies 
 of his nature, and ; involuntary uttering a wild cry, he charged for- 
 ward in pursuit. 
 
 At each moment the spa:*e between pursuers and pursued appear- 
 ed to be diminishing, and Arroyo — notwithstanding a certain brute 
 courage which he possessed while combating with other enemies — 
 now felt his heart beating convulsively against his ribs as he per- 
 ceived the probability of being overtaken by his dreaded pur 
 suer. 
 
 For a moment there appeared a chance of his being able to save 
 himself. The troopers of Don Rafael, not so well mounted as their 
 chief, had fallen behind him several lengths of his horse ; and had 
 Arroyo at this moment faced about with his followers, they might 
 have surrounded the Colonel, and attacked him all at once. 
 
 Arroyo even saw the opportunity ; but terror had chased away 
 his habitual presence of mind ; and he permitted this last chance to 
 escape him. He was influenced, perhaps, by his knowledge of the 
 terrible prowess of his enemy, and despaired of being able to 
 crush him in so short a time as would pass before his troopers 
 could come to his assistance. 
 
 The pursued party had now reached the eastern extremity of 
 the lake. Before them stretched a vast plain, entirely destitute of 
 timber or other covering. Only to the left appeared the outlines 
 of a tract of chapparal, or low forest. 
 
 The bandits, on looking forward, saw at a glance that the open 
 ground would give them no advantage. Their horses might be 
 swifter than those of their pursuers, but this was doubtful; and 
 from the snorting heard at intervals behind them, they knew that 
 one at least was capable of overtaking them. The bright moon- 
 light enabled the pursuers to keep them in view — almost as if it 
 had been noon day ; and on the broad, treeless savanna, no hiding- 
 place could be found. Their only hope then lay in being able to 
 reach the timber, and finding concealment within the depths of the 
 forest jungle. 
 
 To accomplish this, however, it would be neccessary for them to 
 swerve to the left, which would give the pursuers an advantage ; 
 but there was no help for it, and Arroyo — whom fear had now ren* 
 
VENGEANCE FORBORNE. 349 
 
 dered irresolute — rather mechanically than otherwise, turned to- 
 wards the left, and headed for the chapparal. 
 
 Despite the fiery passions that agitated him. Don Rafael still 
 preserved his presence of mind. Watching with keen glance every 
 gesture of the bandits, he had anticipated this movement on their 
 parts; and, even before they had obliqued to the left, he had him- 
 self forged farther out into tne plain, with a view of cutting them 
 off from the woods. On perceiving them change the direction of 
 their flight, he had also swerved to the left , and was now riding in 
 a parallel line, almost head for head with Arroyo and Bocardo ; 
 while the shadow of himself and his horse, far projected by the 
 declining moon, fell ominously across their track. 
 
 In a few seconds more the snorting steed was in the advance, and 
 his shadow fell in front of Arroyo. A sudden turn to the right 
 brought Roncanor within a spear's length of the bandit's horse, and 
 the pursuit was at an end. 
 
 " Carajo /" cried Arroyo, with a fierce emphasis, at the same 
 time discharging his pistol at the approaching pursuer. 
 
 But the bullet, ill aimed, passed the head of Don Rafael without 
 hitting him ; and the instant after, his horse, going at full speed, 
 was projected impetuously against the flanks of that of the bandit, 
 bringing both horse and rider to the ground. 
 
 Bocardo, unable to restrain his animal, was carried forward 
 against his will - t and now became between Don Rafael and his 
 prostrate foe. 
 
 •'Out of the way, vile wretch!" exclaimed Don Rafael, while 
 with one blow of his sabre hilt, he knocked Bocardo from his 
 saddle. 
 
 Arroyo, chilled with terror, and rendered almost senseless by the 
 fall, his spurs holding him fast to the saddle, vainly struggled to re- 
 gain his feet. Before he could free himself from his struggling 
 horse, the troopers of Don Rafael had ridden up, and with drawn 
 sabres halted over him , while his four followers, no longer regarded, 
 continued their wild flight towards the chapparal. 
 
 Don Rafael now dismounted, and with his dagger held betw r een 
 his teeth, seized in both his hands the wrists of the bandit. In vain 
 Arroyo struggled to free himself from that iron grasp ; and in anoth- 
 er moment he lay upon his back, the knee of Don Rafael pressing 
 upon his breast — heavy as a rock that might have fallen from Mo- 
 nopostiac. The bandit, with his arms drawn crosswise, saw that 
 resistance was vain ; and yielding himself to despair he lay motiorv 
 
350 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 l Gsg __rage and fear strangely mingling in the expression of his fea 
 tures. 
 
 " Here !" cried Don Rafael, " some one tie this wretch ! 
 
 In the twinkling of an eye, one of the troopers wound his lazo 
 eight or ten times around the arms and legs of the prostrate gueril- 
 lero, and firmly bound them together. 
 
 " Now, then"!" continued Don Rafael, " let him be attached to 
 the tail of my horse !" 
 
 Notwithstanding the terrible acts of retaliation, which the royal- 
 ist soldiers were accustomed to witness, after each victory on one 
 side or the other, this order was executed in the midst of the most 
 profound silence. They knew the fearful nature of the punishment 
 about to be inflicted. 
 
 In a few seconds time the end of the lazo, which bound the limbs 
 of the brigand, was tightly looped around the tail of the horse; and 
 Rafael had leaped back into his saddle. 
 
 Before using the spur, he cast behind him one last look of hatred 
 upon the murderer of his father ; while a smile of contempt upon his 
 lips was the only reply which he vouchsafed to the assassin's appeal 
 for mercy. 
 
 " Craven ! you need not ask for life !" he said, after a time. " An- 
 tonio Valdez met his death in the same fashion, like yourself mean- 
 ly begging for mercy. You shall die as he did. J promised it 
 when 1 met you at the hacienda Las Palmas, and I now keep my 
 word." 
 
 As Don Rafael finished speaking, his spurs were heard striking 
 against the flanks of his horse, that, apparently dismayed at the aw- 
 ful purpose for which he was to he used, reared violently upon his 
 hind legs and refused to advance! at the same instant the bandit 
 uttered a wild cry of agony, which resounded far over the lake, till 
 it rang in echoes from the sides of the enchanted mountain. Like 
 an echo, too, came the strange snorting from the nostrils of Ronca- 
 dor, who, at a second pricking of the spur, made one vast bound 
 forward, and then suddenly stopped trembling and affrighted. The 
 body of the bandit, >udden'ly jerked forward, had fallen back heavily 
 to the earth, while groans of agony escaped from his quivering 
 lips. 
 
 Just at this moment — this fearful crisis for the guerilla leader — 
 two men were seen running towards the spot, and with all the speed 
 that their legs were capable of making. It was evident they were 
 in search of Don Rafael with some message of great importance. 
 
VENGEANCE FORBORNE. 351 
 
 " A word with you, Colonel, in the name of God !" cried one of 
 them, as soon as they were near enough to be heard. " For Hea- 
 ven's sake do not ride off till we have spoken to you. My compan- 
 ion and I have had the worst luck in trying to find you." 
 
 The min who spoke, and who had exhausted his last breath in the 
 wards, was no other than the veritable Juan el Zapote, while his 
 companion was the honest Gaspar. 
 
 " Who are these men ?" indignantly inquired Don Rafael. "Ah! 
 it is you, my brave fellows?" continued he, softening down, as he 
 recognized the two adventurers whom he had met in the forest, and 
 whose advice had proved so advantageous to him. "What do you 
 want with me ? You see I am engaged at present, and have no time 
 ■9 attend to you ?" 
 
 "True !" replied Juan el Zapote. " We see your honour is occu- 
 pied ; and that we have arrived at an inconvenient time ! Ah! it 
 is the Senor Arroyo with whom you are engaged ! But your honor 
 must know that we have a message for you, and have been running 
 after you for twenty-four hours, without being able to deliver it. It 
 is one of life and death." 
 
 '• Mercy ! mercy !" shrieked Arroyo, in a tone of piteous ap- 
 peal. 
 
 " H old your tongue, you stupid !" cried Juan el Zapote, reproach- 
 fully addressing his former chief. " Don't you see that the Colonel 
 h is business with us ? You are are hindering him from attending to 
 it." 
 
 " A message of life and death !" repeated Don Rafael, his heart 
 suddenly bounding with a triumphant hope. " From whom do you 
 come V 
 
 " Will your honour direct your people to step aside ?" whispered 
 Zapote. "It is a confidential mission with which we are charged — 
 a love message," added he in a still lower tone. 
 
 By a commanding gesture of the Colonel — for the communica- 
 tions of Zapote had deprived him of the power of speech — the 
 troopers moved off to one side, and he was left alone with the mes- 
 senger — to whom he now bent downwards from his saddle, in order 
 that their words might not be heard. 
 
 What they said to him need not be repeated : enough to know 
 that when their message was finally delivered it appeared to produce 
 a magical effect upon the Colonel, who was heard to give utterance 
 to a stifled cry of joy. 
 
 Holding by one hand the withers of his horse — which he appeared 
 to need as a support to hinder him from falling out of his saddle^-* 
 
352 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 with the other he was observed to conceal something in the breast 
 of his coat, apparently a packet which the messengers had handed 
 him. They, in their turn, were seen to bound joyfully over the 
 ground at some word which Don Rafael had spoken to them, and 
 which seemed to have produced on Zapote an effect resembling the 
 dance of St. Vitus. 
 
 In another moment the Colonel drew his dagger from its sheath, 
 and called out in a loud voice enough to be heard by all : — " God 
 does not will that this man should die. He has sent these men as 
 the saviours of his life. I acknowledge the hand of God !" 
 
 And forgetting that he held in his power his most mortal foe, the 
 murderer of his father — forgetting his oath, no more to be remem- 
 bered amidst the delicious emotions that filled his heart — remember- 
 ing only the promise of mercy he had made to Gertrudis, herself — 
 he leant back over the croup of his saddle, and cut the lazo by which 
 the brigand was attached to the tail of his horse. 
 
 Disdaining to listen to the ontpouring of thanks which the craven 
 wretch now lavished upon him, he turned once more towards the 
 messengers. 
 
 " Where is she who sent you V he inquired in a low voice. 
 
 " There !" answered Zapote, pointing to a group of horsemen who 
 at this moment were seen advancing along the shore as the escort 
 to a litera which appeared in their midst. 
 
 Roncador, freed from the human body, which attached to his tail 
 had so frightened him, no longer refused to obey the spur ; and in 
 another moment he was bounding in the direction were the curtains 
 of the litera of Gertrudis were seen undulating under the last rays 
 of the waning moon. 
 
A BRACE OF CRAFTY COURIERS. 353 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVITI. 
 
 A BRACE OF CRAFTY COURIERS. 
 
 [r is necessary to explain the cause of Don Mariano's advance to- 
 wards the spot. 
 
 From the place in which he and his party had taken their stand, 
 they could witness most part of the pursuit, as well as the events 
 that followed it ; but so confusedly, that it was impossible to tell 
 by the eye who were the victors, and who the vanquished. The ear 
 gave them a better clue as to how the strife was turning ; for the 
 chase had not been carried on in silence. 
 
 So long as the shores of the lake at that special point were cleared 
 of people, it mattered little to Costal and Clara who should have 
 the advantage. With Don Mariano the case was different. 
 
 Convinced by what he had seen, that the leader of the sanguinary 
 pursuit could be no other than the Colonel Tres-Villas, whose life 
 was now almost as precious to him as that of his own daughter — 
 since hers depended upon it — he stood for a while absorbed in the 
 most painful uncertainty. From the commencement of the drama 
 he had, in fact, preserved a solemn silence — feeling that words could 
 in no way relieve the anxiety of Gertrudis. 
 
 A vivid sentiment of curiosity had equally kept in silence Don 
 Cornelio and his two followers, who at some paces from the litera 
 stood listening. 
 
 Don Mariano was still ignorant of the fact that the hacienda of 
 San Carlos had been captured and pillaged by the band of Arroyo. 
 
354 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 Had he known of this, and other events of a yet more horrid 
 nature, his soul might have been harrowed by a far more agonising 
 emotion than that of mere uncertainty ; and perhaps he mi<rht have 
 become an actor instead of spectator in the strife that was accru- 
 ing. 
 
 As for Dona Gertrudis, as she had easily distinguished that 
 strange sound that issued from the nostrils of the well-known steed; 
 and with her ear eagerly bent, she listened with mortal anguish to 
 every breath that was borne back from the scene of the struggle. 
 
 Costal, who was impatient to return with Clara towards the spot 
 where he had been so near capturing the white-robed Matlacuezc, 
 was the first to break the prolonged silence. 
 
 " Whatever may be the result," said he, in hopes of inducing 
 Don Mariano and his party to move away from the place, " the 
 path is now clear for you, Senor Don Mariano. If it is to the 
 hacienda of Las Palmas you are going, you will find the road both 
 open and safe." 
 
 " We are not going to Las Palmas," answered Don Mariano, 
 with an air of abstraction, at the same time advancing a few paces 
 in ordsr to have a better view of what was passing. 
 
 " If I were in your place," persisted Costal, in a significant tone, 
 " I should go there. It is the safest route y^u can take, and let mo 
 
 assure you the moments are precious Carrambo /" continued he 
 
 in an angry tone, and suddenly feeing round, as the crackling of 
 branches announced that some one was passing near through the 
 thicket. " By all the serpents in the hair of Tlaloc, there are some 
 more people in the woods. In the name of " 
 
 The invoked deity was not mentioned, as just at that moment 
 voices were heard where the bushes were in motion, and Costal in- 
 terrupted his speech to listen. The words were — 
 
 "This way, compadre — this way ! I hear over yonder the voice 
 of the man we are in search of. Listen ! that's the Colonel's voice 
 to a certainty. Quick, by all the devils ! Let us run at full speed, 
 or we shall miss him again." 
 
 The voice of this speaker was not known to any of those who had 
 heard it, and he who was addressed as " eompadre" appeared to have 
 made no reply. But the sound of their footsteps, and the swish of 
 the recoiling branches, each moment became more indistinct, till at 
 length the noises were lost in the distance. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that the two men, who had thus 
 passed so near, were the messengers so often disappointed, Gaspar 
 and Juan el Zapote. As already known, they had been to the 
 
A BRACS OF CRAFTY COURIERS. 
 
 hacienda San Carlos, where they had learnt the direction taken by 
 Don Rafael at the leaving it. They had followed his tracks, which 
 to Juan el Zapote, a skilled rastreador, was easy enough — especially 
 in such a moonlight. They had even recognised Don Mariano and 
 his party, on coming near the spot where the haciendado had halted ; 
 and for a moment Gaspar hesitated about going up to the group 
 and reporting himself to his master, as he ought to have done. 
 
 From the performance of his duty he was dissuaded by his astute 
 associate, who represented to him, that, in case of his reporting him- 
 self, Don Mariano might countermand the message he had sent to 
 the Colonel, now that the latter was known to be on the ground. 
 He might prefer delivering the precious talisman in propria persona, 
 and then where would be the bounty they had long expected, and 
 for which they had more than once risked their necks ? 
 
 These arguments prevailed even with the honest Gaspar ; and to 
 such an extent, that from this very motive he had declined to an- 
 swer the speeches of Zapote, lest his voice might be recognised by 
 Don Mariano, or some of his fellow-servants ! Cautiously did the 
 two make a detour through the trees, and so rapidly, that no one 
 was likely to be able to intercept them, before they could reach the 
 place to which the voice of the Colonel was guiding them. 
 
 As socn as the men had passed out of hearing, Costal ana 
 Clara, who saw that Don Mariano showed no sign of following 
 their advice, exchanged glances of vexatious disappointment. The 
 haciendado still kept his ground; and with his ear catching every 
 sound, was vainly endeavouring to obtain a solution of the painful 
 uncertainty that surrounded him. 
 
 The moon, about to sink behind the summit of the enchanted 
 hill, cast oblique rays along the level shore of the lake. There he 
 could make out a confused group of men and horses, some of the 
 former dismounted and flinging long shadows over the plain. 
 What was passing in the middle of this group ? Some terrible 
 scene, no doubt, was there being enacted — to judge from the hur- 
 ried movements of the men, and the angry intonation of their 
 voices. 
 
 At that moment a frightful cry rose upon the air, and, borne up- 
 on the still breeze, was distinctly heard by Don Mariano, and the 
 people around him. It was the agonised cry of a wretch begging 
 for mercy. The voice even could be distinguished by Don Mari- 
 ano, by Costal, by Clara, and the domestics. All knew it was the 
 voice of Arroyo. 
 
 The cry was significant. Beyond doubt Don Rafael was the 
 
256 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 victor, and was now executing upon the murderer of his father the 
 act of merciless justice he had promised before the walls of Las 
 Pal mas. 
 
 Don Mariano hesitated no longer ; but, giving the order to his 
 attendants, advanced towards the scene of vengeance. 
 
MATLACUEZC A MORTAL. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIX. 
 
 MATLACUEZC A MORTAL ! 
 
 The shores uf the Lake Ostuta, hitherto so solitary and silent, 
 appeared upon this night to have become a general rendezvous for 
 the world. The Utera of Gertrudis had scarce moved from the 
 spot which Don Mariano had chosen for his bivouac, when another 
 Utera was seen entering the glade, and moving onward through it. 
 This, however, was borne by men, and preceded by some half-doz- 
 en Indian peons with blazing torches of ocote wood carried in their 
 hands. 
 
 On reaching the shore of the lake, the second Utera with its es- 
 cort made halt, while the Indians bearing the torches commenced 
 searching for something among the reeds. 
 
 Costal and Clara, instead of accompanying the party of Don 
 Mariano, had remained upon the ground, in hopes that they would 
 now be left free to continue their pagan incantations, and once 
 more behold the Syren of the dishevelled hair. Don Cornelio also 
 lingered behind, not caring just then to encounter the victorious 
 royalists. 
 
 As soon as Costal perceived the approach of this new party — ■ 
 once more interrupting his designs — his fury became uncontrollable; 
 and, making towards it on horseback, he snatched a torch from the 
 hands of one of the Indians who were in advance, and then rode 
 straight up to the Utera. The apparition of a gaunt horseman 
 with a torch in one hand, and a bloody sword in the other, his 
 countenance expressing extreme rage, produced an instantaneous ef- 
 
858 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 feet on the bearers of the litera. Without waiting to exchange a 
 word, they dropped their burden to the ground, and ran back 
 into the woods as fast as their legs could carry them. 
 
 A stifled cry came from the interior of the litera ; while Don 
 Cornelio, who had followed Costal, hastened to open the cur- 
 tains. By the light of the torch which the Zapoteque still car- 
 ried, they now saw stretched inside the body of a man, with a 
 face wan, pallid, and stained with blood. Don Cornelio at once 
 recognised the young Spaniard — the proprietor of the hacienda 
 San "Carlos — the victim of Arroyo's ferocity, and of the cupidity 
 of his associate. 
 
 The dying man, on seeing Costal, cried out— 
 
 " Oh ! do not harm me — I have not long to live." 
 
 Lantejas made signs for the Zapoteque to step aside; and, 
 bending over the litera, with kind and affectionate speeches en- 
 deavoured to calm the apprehensions of the unfortunate sufferer. 
 
 "Thanks ! thanks !" murmured the latter, turning to Don Cornelio 
 with a look of gratitude. Ah, Senor !" continued he, in a suppli- 
 cating tone, " perhaps you can tell me — have you seen anything of 
 her?'' 
 
 The interrogatory caused a new light to break upon him to whom 
 it was addressed. lie at once remembered the phantom which he 
 had seen while approaching the hacienda ; the white form that had 
 vanished into the woods, and again the same apparition just seen 
 among the reeds. Both, no doubt, were one and the same unfortu- 
 nate creature. Twice, then, had he seen living, one whom the young 
 Spaniard was never likely to see again, except as a corpse! 
 
 " 1 have seen no one," replied Don Cornelio, hesitating in his 
 speech, an 1 unwilling to make known his drea.l suspicions, " no one, 
 except two brigands, who had hidden themselves in the thicket, and 
 who are now " 
 
 " Oh ! Senor, for the love of God, search for her : She cannot be 
 far from this place. I am speaking of my wife. We have found 
 just now her silk scarf, and not far off this slipper. Both I know to 
 be hers. She must have dropped them in her flight. Oh ! if I 
 could only once more see her — embrace her before I die !" 
 
 And so speaking the young man bent a look of supplicant anguish 
 upon Don Cornelio, while exhibiting the two objects which his at- 
 tendants had found upon the path, and which had served to guide 
 them in their search. 
 
 Don Cornelio, unable longer to endure the painful interview, al- 
 
MATLACUEZC A MORTAL. 359 
 
 lowed the curtains of the litera to close over the wretched husband ; 
 and, stepping aside, rejoined the Zapotequc — who was still giving 
 vent to his anger in strong and emphatic phraseology. 
 
 " Costal," said the Captain, " 1 fear very much that the wife of 
 this young Spaniard is no longer alive. 1 saw a woman robed in 
 white down there among the reeds, just as the brigand fired his car- 
 bine; and from what I saw afterwards, I am afraid she must have 
 been hit by the bullet. Surely it must have been her that they are 
 now searching for." 
 
 " You are a fool !" cried Costal in his ill-humour forgetting the 
 respect due to his superior. " The woman you saw in white robes 
 was no other than Matlacueze, and I should have had her in my arms in 
 another second of time but for that accursed coyote, who, by firing 
 his carbine, caused her suddenly to disappear. Well ! he has paid 
 for his indiscretion ; that's some comfort, but, for all that " 
 
 " it is you who are a fool, you miserable heathen," said Don Cor- 
 nelio, interrupting Costal in his turn. "The poor creature, who has 
 no doubt been struck with the bullet, is no other than the wife of 
 this young Spaniard ! Do you hear that V 
 
 This last interrogatory had relation to a cry that came up from 
 the reeds, where the Indians with their torches were still continuing 
 their search. 
 
 " Look yonder !" continued Don Cornelio, pointing to them, " they 
 have stopped over the very spot, and that wail — that is signifi- 
 cant." 
 
 As Don Cornelio spoke a chorus of lamentations came back upon 
 the breeze, uttered by the Indian searchers. It was heard by the 
 dying man in his litera, and apprised him of that which Don Corne- 
 lio would otherwise have attempted to conceal from him. It was 
 now too late, however, and the Captain ran towards the litera, in 
 hopes of offering some words of consolation. 
 
 " Dead ! dead !" cried the young Spaniard, wringing his hands in 
 mortal anguish. " Oh God ! she is dead !" 
 
 " Let us hope not," faltered Don Cornelio ; " these people may be 
 mistaken." 
 
 " Oh ! no, no ! she is dead ! I knew it; I had a presentiment of 
 it ! O merciful Saviour ! dead, my Marianita dead !" 
 
 After a moment, becoming more calm, the dving man continu- 
 ed :— 
 
 " What better fate could I have wished for her? She has escaped 
 dishonour at the hands of these pitiless brigands, and lam about to 
 
3G0 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 die myself. Yes, friend ! death is now sweeter to me than life ; for 
 it will bring me to her whom 1 love more than myself." 
 - And like those who, calmly dying, arrange everything as if for 
 soma ordinary ceremonial, the young man laid his head upon the 
 pillow ; and then stretching out his hands, composed the coverlet 
 around him — leaving it open atone side, as if for the funereal couch 
 of her whom he would never see more. 
 
 Dan Cornelio, turning away from the painful spectacle, advanced 
 towards the lake, making signs for Costal to follow him. 
 
 " Come this way," he said, " and you shall see how much truth 
 there is in your pagan superstitions." 
 
 Costal made no objection ; for he had already begun to mistrust 
 the evidences of his own senses ; and both proceeded together 
 towards the spot where the torch-bearers had halted. 
 
 A white robe, torn by the thorns of the thicket, stained with 
 blood, and bedraggled by the greenish scum of the water, enveloped 
 the lifeless form of the young wife, whom the Indians had already 
 deposited upon a bed of reeds. Some green leaves that hung over 
 her head appeared to compose her last parure. 
 
 "She is beautiful as the Syren of the dishevelled hair," said Cos. 
 tal, as he stood gazing upon the prostrate form, " beautiful as Mat- 
 lacuezc ! Poor Don Mariano ?" continued he, recognising the 
 daughter of his old master, " he is far from suspecting that he has 
 now only one child !" 
 
 Saying this the Indian walked away from the spot, his head 
 drooping forward over his breast, and apparently absorbed in pain- 
 ful meditation. 
 
 " Well," said Don Cornelio, who had followed him, " do you 
 still believe that you saw the spouse of your god Tlaloc?" 
 
 " I believe what my fathers have taught me to believe," replied 
 Costal, in a tone of discouragement. " I believe that the descend- 
 ant of the Caciques of Tehuan tepee is not destined to restore the 
 ancient glories of his race. Tlaloc, who dwells here, has forbidden 
 it." 
 
 And saying this the Zapoteque relapsed into silence, and walked 
 on with an air of gloomy abstraction that seemed to forbid all fur- 
 ther conversation on the subject of his mythological creed. 
 
TWO HAPPY HEARTS. 30] 
 
 CHAPTER LXXX. 
 
 TWO HAPPY HEARTS 
 
 We have arrived at the final scene of our drama. The shores of 
 the lake Ostuta, which in so short a space of time had witnessed so 
 many stirring events, are once more to relapse into their mourn- 
 ful silence. 
 
 Already Don Cornelio and his two companions have disappeared 
 from the spot, and taken the road for Oajaca. 
 
 The funeral cortege is moving off towards the hacienda of San 
 Carlos — the Indians who carry the bier marching in solemn silence. 
 On that bier two corpses are laid side by side — the Spaniard Don 
 Fernando de Lacarra by the side of his youthful wife. . 
 
 Don Mariano, accompanied by his attendants — follows at a short 
 distance ; and still further behind, the troopers of Don Rafael form 
 a rear-guard closing up the procession. The most profound and 
 solemn silence is observed by all : as if all were alike absorbed by 
 one common sorrow. 
 
 This, however, is only apparent ; for there are two individuals in 
 that procession whose hearts are not a prey to grief. On the con- 
 trary, both are at this moment in the enjoyment of the most per- 
 fect felicity which it is permitted for mortals to experience upon 
 earth. Both are now assured of a mutual love, tried by long tor- 
 tures, and scarce too dearly bought, since the past anguish has re- 
 sulted in such delicious ecstaey. 
 
 At nearly equal distances from the escort of Don Mariano and 
 the troopers forming the rear-guard, these two personages appear : 
 one borne in her litera, the other mounted upon horseback, and rid- 
 
3G2 THE TIGER-HUNTER. 
 
 ing alongside. It need not be told who is the occupant of the litem 
 nor who the tall horseman who, bending down from his saddle, 
 whispers so softly and gently, that no one may hear his words, save 
 her for whom they are intended. 
 
 Absorbed with this interchange of exquisite emotions, both are 
 still strangers to the sad event that has occurred within the hour. 
 Don Mariano, devouring his grief in silence, has left them ignorant 
 of the sad misfortune. 
 
 God has been merciful to him in thus fortifying his soul against 
 sorrow at the loss of one child, by permitting him to behold the un- 
 speakable happiness of the other, who is thus preserved to him as an 
 angel of consolation. He well knows the strong affection of Ger- 
 trudis for her sister, and fearing in her feeble state to announce the 
 melancholly event, lest the shock would be too much for her, he 
 has carefully concealed the sad news, until some opportunity may 
 arise of preparing her to receive it. A few hours of the happiness 
 she is now enjoying may strengthen her long tortured spirit, and en- 
 able her to bear up against this new and unexpected sorrow. 
 ******** 
 
 Still ridnig by the side of the litcra, his eyes fervently glancing 
 through the half-open curtains, his ear close to them lest he might 
 lose a single word that falls from the lips of Gertrudis, Don Rafael 
 devours the sweet speeches addressed to him, with the avidity of 
 the thirsty traveller who has reached the pure and limpid fountain, 
 so eagerly yearned for on his long and weary route. 
 
 As the moon is now low in the sky, and gleams with an uncer- 
 tain light through the curtains of the litem, Don Rafael can only- 
 trace indistinctly the features of Gertrudis. This half-obscurity, 
 however, favours the young girl, concealing at the same time her 
 happiness and confusion, both of which are betraying themselves in 
 full blush upon her cheeks, hitherto so wan and pale. 
 
 Impelled by the strength of her love, from time to time she cast a 
 furtive glance upon the face of her lover. It is a glance of strange 
 significance ; its object being to discover whether upon his features 
 the tortures of long absence have not also left there imprint. 
 
 But the passion which Don Rafael has suffered under although as 
 incurable as her own, has left no other trace upon his countenance 
 than that of a profound melancholy, and at the moment, his heart 
 filled with exquisite happiness, all traces of this melancholly have 
 
TWO HAPPY HEARTS. oC)3 
 
 disappeared. Gertrudis only looks upon a countenance that shows 
 not a souvenir of suffering. 
 
 Don Rafael no longer doubts the love of Gertrudis. She has 
 given him proofs no more to be questioned. But of his? What 
 proofs has he offered in return ? Gertrudis cannot hinder herself 
 from doubting. 
 
 The young girl endeavors to conceal the sigh which these thoughts 
 have summoned up, and though the moon is still bright enough for 
 her to perceive upon the countenance of Don Rafael an expression 
 of the most loyal love, she cannot rest satisfied. Unable to restrain 
 herself, again and again she repeats the interrogatory, "Do you still 
 love me, Rafael ?" Again and again she receives the same affirm- 
 ative answer without being .assured ! 
 
 "Oh, it is too much happiness!" cries she, suddenly raising her 
 head from the pillow, '-' 1 cannot believe it, Rafael. As for the sin- 
 cerity of my words, you could not doubt them. The messenger 
 has told you — plainly, has he not, — that I could not live without 
 you? Then you came to me — yes, you have come," continues she, 
 with a sigh that betokens the mingling of sorrow with her new 
 sprung joy , '"but for all that, oh ! Rafael, what can you say to me 
 that will convince me you still love me?" 
 
 ••' What shall 1 say ?" rejoins Don Rafael, repeating her words. 
 '• Only this, Gertrudis. I vowed to you that whenever I should re- 
 ceive this sacred message," at this drawing the tress from his bosom, 
 and pressing it proudly his to lips, <k I vowed that though my arm 
 at the moment might be raised to strike my deadliest enemy, it 
 should fall without inflicting the blow. I have come, Gertrudis — I 
 am here !" 
 
 " You are generous, Rafael. I know that. You swore it, and — 
 oh ! my God ; what do I hear ?" 
 
 The interruption was caused by a loud cry that seemed to rise out 
 of the earth close to the path which the procession was following. 
 Jt seemed like the .voice of some one in pain, and calling for deliver- 
 ance or mercy. Gertrudis trembled with affright as she nestled 
 closer within the curtains of the litem. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed," said Don Rafael ; " it is nothing you 
 need fear ; only the voice of the monster Arroyo praying to be set 
 t'reo. He is lying over yonder upon the sand, bound hand and foot. 
 He is still living , and to you, Gertrudis, does he owe his life. This 
 assassin of my father — whom for two years I have pursued in vain 
 — but a moment ago was about to receive death at my hands, when 
 
SGi THE TiaER-HUNTER. 
 
 your rnpssenger arrived. I hesitated not, Gertrudls. It was but 
 
 too much happiness to keep my oath. 1 cut the cords that attached 
 him to the tail of my horse — in order that 1 should come to you 
 sooner.'" 
 
 Gcrtrudis, almost fainting, allowed her head to fall hack upon the 
 pillow ; and as Don Rafael, frightened at the effect of his commu- 
 nication, bent closer to the Utera, he heard murmured in alow voice 
 the sweet words — 
 
 " Your hand, Rafael ! Oh ! let me thank you for the happiness 
 you have given me, a happiness that no words can describe." 
 
 And Don Rafael, his frame quivering with exquisite emotion, felt 
 the soft pressure of her lips upon the hand which he had hastened 
 to offer. 
 
 Then, as if abashed by this ardent avowal of her passion, the 
 young girl suddenly closed the curtains of the litem, to enjoy in 
 secret, and under the eye of God alone, that supreme felicity of 
 knowing that she was beloved as she herself loved — a felicity that 
 had. as it were, restored her life. 
 
 Like phantoms which have been called up by the imagination — 
 like the unreal shadows in a dream, which one after another vanish 
 out of sight — so the different personages in our drama, whose suffer- 
 ings, whose loves, an 1 whose combats we have witnessed, are all 
 gradually disappearing from the scene where we have viewed them 
 for the last time — Don Fernando and Marian ita on their funereal 
 bier; Gertrudis, in her Utera, restored to new life; Don Rafael, 
 Don Mariano, and his followers. 
 
 Don Cornelio, Costal, and Clara had already gone far from the 
 spot; and soon the last horseman of the Colonel's escort, forming 
 the rear-guard of the procession, had filed through the belt ofcedrela 
 trees — leaving the lake Ostuta apparently as deserted us if human 
 footsteps had never strayed along its shores. 
 
 And yet this desertion was only apparent. Upon the edge of the 
 lake at that point where the chase of the bandits had terminated, 
 two human bodies might be seen lying along the ground. One was 
 dead ; and the other, though still living, was equally motionless. 
 The former was the corpse of Bocardo, who in the melee had been 
 despatched by the troopers of Don Rafael. The living body was 
 that of Arroyo, who, still bound hand and foot with the lazo, was 
 unable to stir from the spot. There lay he with no one to pity — • 
 
TWO HAPPY HEARTS. 8<V* 
 
 no one to lend a helping hand ; destined at no distant time to make 
 a meal for the vultures, to perish by the poignard of some royalist, 
 or to excite the compassion of an insurgent. 
 
 The moon had disappeared below the horizon, and the vitreous 
 transparence which her light had lent to the enchanted hill, giving 
 it a semblance of life, was no more to be observed. The lake no 
 longer glittered under the silvery beam. Both Ostuta and Mono- 
 postiac had resumed the sombre aspect that usually distinguished 
 them, with that mournful tranquility that habitually reigned over 
 the spot — interrupted only by the cry of the coyote, or the shriJJ 
 maniac scream of the eagle preparing to descend to the banquet of 
 human flesh. 
 
366 THE TIGER HUNTER. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Our drama has reached its finale. It only remains to drop the 
 curtain ; but, as the reader may be curious to know something of 
 the after life of the dramatis ])erso?ice, we shall endeavour to satisfy 
 his curiosity before bidding him adieu. 
 
 First, we shall speak of the result of Don Cornelio's mission to 
 Oajaca, and we cannot do better than give the account of it in the 
 words of the worthy canon. Don Lucas de Alacuesta. 
 
 "On the arrival at Oajaca," said Don Lucas, " which I was only 
 able to enter after running great risk of being shot by the sentries, 
 I made direct for the house of my uncle ; who, for greater security 
 during these troublous times, had left his hacienda at San Salvador, 
 and taken up his residence in the capital. 
 
 "In the first conversation which 1 had with him, I thought thai I 
 remarked a certain tendency on his part to blame the acts of the 
 viceregal government, and that he had imbibed a partiality for the 
 cause of the insurrection. For this reason, I determined upon 
 opening my affairs to him, and telling him all that had happened — 
 among others, of the situation which I held upon the staff of 
 Morel os. 
 
 " Never was I more mistaken in the sentiments of a man. I 
 had scarce finished my confession, when my uncle flew into the 
 greatest rage, crossing himself, as if he saw in me those marks 
 which the bishop had promised that all the insurgents should car- 
 ry ; and then, without further ado, he ordered me, along with my 
 followers, to leave his house instantly — adding, that I might con- 
 sider myself lucky that his friendship for my father hindered him 
 from delivering up to the public vengeance a son who had so dis- 
 honoured the house of Lantejas. 
 
 " This," said Don Lucas, " was my first attempt at ambassador- 
 ship, and it taught me to be more cautious in sounding others about 
 their fidelity to the royalist cause. 
 
EPILOGUE. 307 
 
 " Shortly after that time, however, Oajaca fell into the hands of 
 Morelos ; and, along with the capital, the whole province came in- 
 to the power of the insurgent army. 
 
 " But the fortune of the ex-cura of Caracuaro had now reached 
 its culminating point. The names cf Morelos and Galeana had ac- 
 quired all the renown that man might desire; and the time was 
 not far distant when these two heroic chieftains were to disappear 
 from the scene. 
 
 " In less than six months afterwards, the battle-field of Puma- 
 ram became the tomb of the military glory of Morelos ; and some 
 months later I was present in the last action fought by Galeana, in 
 which he perished with his favourite war-cry upon his lips — ' Aqiii 
 esta Galeana /' " 
 
 The good canon finished his narrative by giving some further de- 
 tails of his own after history, and that of the other characters who 
 have figured in our drama. 
 
 After the fall of Morelos and Galeana — from whom death alone 
 could separate him — he had quitted the insurgent service, without, 
 however, being included in the indulto granted by the Spanish gov- 
 ernment. Under the assumed name of Don Lucas Alcuesta — 
 which he had definitively adopted — he was enabled to find a safe 
 asylum now in one province, now in another, of those which re- 
 mained in the hands of Morelos's successors ; and living in this 
 way he had resumed his theological studies, so long interrupted. 
 After many crosses and difficulties — which his patient perseverance 
 enabled him to surmount — he was at length admitted to the holy 
 orders, and obtained the care of the canon ry of Tepic, where he 
 could enjoy that tranquil life so much suited to his taste. 
 
 Costal, notwithstanding the many disappointments he had met 
 with, was still occasionally troubled with dreams of restoring the 
 glories of his ancient race ; but these did not hinder him remain- 
 ing true to his old captain — now the good canon — with whom he 
 afterwards continued to live, being at one and the same time his 
 guest, purveyor, and friend. An occasional excursion on his own 
 account now and then carried the Zapoteque to a distance ; but he 
 always returned again loaded with game, or such other good things 
 as he knew would be welcome to the table of the worthy canon. 
 
 As for Clara, his instinctive habits of vagabondage hindered 
 him from settling anywhere, though at intervals he might be seen 
 in company with his old comrade, enjoying the hospitality of his 
 former captain. 
 
 Don Rafael, united to the woman he had so long and ardently 
 
368 THE TIGER HUNTER. 
 
 loved, had reached the accomplishment of his dearest desires. 
 The oath he had taken to combat the insurrection till it should he 
 crushed, compelled him to remain in the royalist service. Shortly 
 after, as the revolution appeared to be at an end, and the royalist 
 cause once more triumphant throughout Mexico, Don Rafael, now 
 raised to the rank of a general in the Spanish army, felt himself 
 released from the oath he had taken ; and resigning his commis- 
 sion, he retired into private life. The hacienda of Del Valle was 
 that which he had chosen for his future residence; but Don Mari- 
 ano having no longer a companion to cheer his hours, insisted upon 
 his son in-law making Las Palmas his home ; and thus Gertrudis 
 enjoyed the double satisfaction of having always near her a father 
 whom she affectionately loved, and a husband she passionately 
 adored. 
 
 Though the short interval of peace had relieved the General Tres- 
 Villas from any obligation again to combat in the royalist cause, it 
 was far from being the end of the revolution. Another wave soon 
 appeared above the horizon, which, sweeping over the land, carried 
 destruction everywhere to the enemies of Mexican independence. 
 When its surging had subsided, and tranquility again restored, that 
 proud flag, which for more than three centuries had floated over the 
 fields of Anahuac, was no longer to be seen ; Mexico was lost to 
 Spain, and for ever ! 
 
 THS END. 
 
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