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
The hunter chose the driest wood he could find to kindle the fire, in
order that there might be no smoke, and the flame might light up the
vicinity, so as to reveal at once the approach of the dangerous
neighbours whose cries they could hear, and whom thirst would not fail
soon to bring toward them.
The roasted birds and a few handfuls of pemmican composed the rangers'
supper; a very sober meal, only washed down with water from the river,
but which they ate with good appetite, like men who knew how to
appreciate the value of any food Providence places at their disposal.
When the last mouthful was swallowed, the Canadian paternally shared his
stock of tobacco with his new comrade, and lit his Indian pipe, in which
he was scrupulously imitated by Quoniam.
"Now," said Tranquil, "it is as well you should know that an old friend
of mine gave me the meeting at this spot about three months ago; he will
arrive at daybreak to-morrow. He is an Indian Chief, and, although
still very young, enjoys a great reputation in his tribe. I love him as
a brother, and we were, I may say, brought up together. I shall be glad
to see you gain his favour, for he is a wise and experienced man, for
whom desert life possesses no secrets. The friendship of an Indian Chief
is a precious thing to a wood-ranger; remember that. However, I feel
certain you will be good friends at once."
"I will do all that is required for that. It is sufficient that the
Chief is your friend, for me to desire that he should become mine. Up to
the present, though I have wandered about the woods a long time as a
runaway slave, I have never seen an independent Indian; hence it is
possible that I may commit some awkwardness without my knowledge. But be
assured that it will not happen through any fault of mine."
"I am convinced of it, so be easy on that head. I will warn the Chief,
who, I fancy, will be as surprised as yourself, for I expect you will be
the first person of your colour he has ever met. But night has now quite
set in; you must be fatigued by the obstinate pursuit you experienced
the whole day, and the powerful emotion you endured: sleep, while I
watch for both, especially as I expect we shall make a long march
to-morrow, and you must be prepared for it."
The Negro understood the correctness of his friend's remarks, the more
so as he was literally exhausted with fatigue; he had been hunted so
closely by his ex-master's blood-hounds, that for four days he had not
closed his eyes. Hence, laying aside any false shame, he stretched out
his feet to the fire, and slept almost immediately.
Tranquil remained seated on the canoe with his rifle between his legs,
to be prepared for the slightest alarm, and plunged into deep thought,
while attentively watching the neighbourhood, and pricking his ear at
the slightest noise.
CHAPTER IV.
THE MANADA.
The night was splendid, the dark blue sky was studded with millions of
stars which shed a gentle and mysterious light.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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