The Tiger Hunter. Майн Рид

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СКАЧАТЬ Rafael checked his horse.

      “Speak, friend,” said he; “I shall not listen to you ungratefully.”

      “To reach from here the hacienda of Las Palmas,” continued Costal, “without going astray, or making détours, be careful always 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 moment. 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 shelter of that very hacienda where you are going. Ay! the very tigers will not escape, with all their swiftness.”

      “I 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 situation 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 too 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 earshot, 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 very 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 neighbourhood 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 herself 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.”

      “What about the young fellow whom the officer has recommended to our care?”

      “We shall go to look after him in the morning. Meanwhile, we must have some rest ourselves. Let us climb out of the ravine, and carry the canoe up to the summit of the Cerro de la Mesa. 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 ahuehuetes, have made every bone in my body as sore as a blister.”

      And as the two confrères ended their dialogue, they stepped briskly forward, and were soon at the top of the precipitous path that led up from the ravine.

Chapter Fourteen.

       Table of Contents

      Precious Moments.

      The Captain of the Queen’s Dragoons continued his gallop towards 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 frondage of the palms swayed gently under a sky sparkling with stars, and the penetrating odour 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. Mechanically 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 of his journey had been perplexing him—the houses abandoned—the canoes suspended from the trees. Now, for the first time, did he comprehend the meaning of these circumstances, no longer strange. The canoes and periaguas 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.

      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 him; but from a point diametrically opposite—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 be 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 ears laid back, and muzzle stretched horizontally forward, he continued his rapid gallop; his spread nostrils inhaling the puffs of damp air which came like avant-couriers in advance of the troubled waters.

      It СКАЧАТЬ