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
But all these different buildings were arranged so as to be isolated,
and so far from each other, that in the event of fire, the loss of one
building need not absolutely entail that of the rest; several wells were
also dug at regular distances, so as to have abundance of water, without
the necessity of fetching it from the river.
In a word, we may say that the Captain, as an old experienced soldier,
accustomed to all the tricks of border warfare, had taken the minutest
precautions to avoid not merely an attack, but a surprise.
Three months had elapsed since the settlement of the Americans; this
valley, hitherto uncultivated, and covered with forests, was now in
great part ploughed up; clearings effected on a large scale had removed
the forest more than a mile from the colony; all offered the image of
prosperity and comfort at a spot where, so shortly before, the
carelessness of the Redskins allowed nature to produce at liberty the
small stock of fodder needed for their beasts.
Inside the colony, all offered the most lively and busy sight; while
outside, the cattle pastured under the care of mounted and well-armed
herds, and the trees fell beneath the blows of the axemen; inside, all
the workshops were in full activity, long columns of smoke rose from the
forges, the noise of hammers was mingled with the whirring of the saw;
on the river bank, enormous piles of planks stood near others composed
of fire-wood; several boats were tied up, and from time to time the
shots of the hunters could be heard, who were carrying out a battue in
the woods in order to stock the colony with deer-meat.
It was about four in the afternoon, and the Captain, mounted on a
magnificent black horse, with four white stockings, was ambling across a
freshly-cleared prairie.
A smile of quiet satisfaction played over the old soldier's stern face
at the sight of the prodigious change his will and feverish activity had
effected in so short a time on this unknown corner of earth, which must,
however, in no remote future, acquire a great commercial importance,
owing to its position; he was approaching the colony, when a man,
hitherto hidden behind a pile of roots and bushes heaped up to dry,
suddenly appeared at his side.
The Captain repressed a start of anger on perceiving this man, in whom
he recognised Monkey-face.
We will say here a few words about this man, who is destined to play a
rather important part in the course of our narrative.
Itsichaichè was a man of forty, tall, and well proportioned; he had a
crafty face, lit up by two little gimlet eyes; his vulture-beaked nose,
his wide mouth, with its thin and retiring lips, gave him a cunning and
ugly look, which, in spite of the cautious and cat-like obsequiousness
of his manner, and the calculated gentleness of his voice, inspired
those whom accident brought in contact with him with an impulsive
repugnance which nothing could overcome.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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