The Tiger Hunter. Майн Рид

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СКАЧАТЬ and almost without warning. Ha! I 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 distinguish it from the roar of the river. I am almost certain it is the inundation.”

      “Heaven have mercy upon us!” exclaimed the black. “What are we to do?”

      “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 Dios! 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 sitting 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 perceive this unexpected apparition.

      “Look, Costal!” said he, hastily grasping his companion by the arm, and whispering in his ear; “look there! As I live, the diadem 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.

Chapter Thirteen.

       Table of Contents

      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 fashion, around the under 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 at the mistake he had made, and from that time losing all belief in the genius of the cascade.

      “An officer!” murmured Costal, recognising the military equipments of the dragoon, who, with a carbine in one hand, and his bridle in the other, sat smoking his cigar, as immoveable 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 speaker the Indian whose incantation he had witnessed.

      “Delighted to hear you speak at last, my fine fellows,” continued the dragoon in his military off-hand way, at the same time causing his horse to step forward face to face with the adventurers.

      “Perhaps we are not so much pleased to hear you,” replied Costal roughly, as he spoke, shifting his gun from one shoulder to the other.

      “Ah! I am sorry for that,” rejoined the dragoon, smiling frankly through his thick moustache, “for I’m not inclined to solitary habits, 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 adventurers.

      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 pocket of his jaqueta, “you have no good feeling towards me for disturbing you in your proceedings, which I confess I did not understand. 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 justice 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 Palmas?”

      “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 follow up the course of this river. But if you wish a shorter route—one which avoids the windings of the stream—you will go that way.”

      As Costal finished speaking, he pointed in a direction very different 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 directions were honestly meant.

      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,” coolly 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 his 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. “If 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.

      “Oigate, señor cavallero! A brave man СКАЧАТЬ