The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan WarAimard, Gustave
History
The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan War
Aimard, Gustave
Texas -- History -- To 1846 -- Fiction; Western stories
Blue-fox soon perceived that his supposition was false, that he had
given his enemy credit for much greater skill and sagacity than he
really possessed, and that what he had regarded as an extremely
complicated scheme intended to deceive him, was, in fact, what he had at
first thought it, namely, the passing of a man.
After hesitating and turning back several times, the Indian at length
resolved on pushing forward, and following what he believed to be a
false trail, under the conviction that he would speedily find the real
one; but, as he was persuaded that he had to do with extremely crafty
fellows, he redoubled his prudence and precautions, only advancing step
by step, carefully exploring the bushes and the chaparral, and not going
on till he was certain he had no cause to apprehend a surprise.
His manoeuvres occupied a long time; he had left his comrades for more
than two hours, when he found himself all at once at the entrance of a
rather large clearing, from which he was only separated by a curtain of
foliage.
The Indian stopped, drew himself up gently, parted the branches, and
looked into the clearing.
The forests of America are full of these clearings, produced either by
the fall of trees crumbling with old age, or of those which have been
struck by lightning, and laid low by the terrible hurricanes which
frequently utterly uproot the forests of the New World. The clearing to
which we allude here was rather large; a wide stream ran through it, and
in the mud of its banks might be seen the deeply-imprinted footprints of
the wild beasts that came here to drink.
A magnificent mahogany tree, whose luxuriant branches overshadowed the
whole clearing, stood nearly in the centre. At the foot of this gigantic
denizen of the forest, two men were visible.
The first, dressed in a monk's gown, was lying on the ground with closed
eyes, and face covered with a deadly pallor; the second, kneeling by his
side, seemed to be paying him the most anxious attention.
Owing to the position occupied by the Redskin, he was enabled to
distinguish the features of this second person, whose face was turned
toward him.
He was a man of lofty stature, but excessively thin; his face, owing to
the changes of weather to which it must have been long exposed, was of a
brick colour, and furrowed by deep wrinkles; a snow-white beard fell on
his chest, mingled with the long curls of his equally white hair, which
fell in disorder on his shoulders. He wore the garb of the American
rangers combined with the Mexican costume; thus a vicuña-skin hat,
ornamented with a gold _golilla_, covered his head; a zarapé served as
his cloak, and his cotton velvet violet trousers were thrust into long
deer-skin gaiters, that came up to his knees.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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