The White Scalper: A Story of the Texan WarAimard, Gustave
History
The White Scalper: A Story of the Texan War
Aimard, Gustave
Texas -- History -- Revolution, 1835-1836 -- Fiction; Western stories
The old man's face writhed; his eye became moist; he warmly squeezed the
monk's hand, which he had till now held in his own, and it was with
much emotion and tenderness that he added--
"Thanks. This kindness will not be lost; the events of the last few days
have greatly modified my way of looking at certain things; you shall
never regret having saved my life."
"I hope so; but be gone, and may Heaven guard you!"
"We shall meet again."
"Who knows?" the monk muttered, as he gave the guides a signal.
The latter flogged their mules, and the litter began moving. About an
hour after the start, it met a covered cart, in which lay Tranquil, but
they passed without seeing each other. The monk had only spoken the
truth about Ruperto. The worthy adventurer was most attentive to the
sick man, carefully watching over him, and trying to while away the
tedium of the journey. Unluckily, the party had to cross an essentially
primitive country, in which there were no roads, and where the guides
were generally obliged to cut a path with their axes. The litter
advanced but slowly, and with unheard of difficulty, along the
abominable tracts, and, despite the most minute precautions, the wounded
man suffered horribly from the jolting and shakes the mules gave the
litter almost every moment.
Ruperto, to fatigue the patient as little as possible, only travelled by
night, or very early in the morning, ere the sun had acquired its full
strength. They marched thus for a fortnight, during which the country
grew wilder, and the ground gradually ascended; the scenery became more
abrupt and stern, the virgin forests closed in, and they could see that
they were approaching the mountains.
One evening, when the little party had established their night bivouac
on the banks of a rapid stream that flowed into the Arkansas, the
Scalper, who, in spite of the privations and fatigue to which he had
been constantly exposed since his departure from the rancho, felt his
strength gradually returning, asked his guide how many days their
journey would still last--which as yet he had been unwilling to do,
through a feeling of delicacy. At this question, Ruperto smiled
cunningly.
"Our journey has been finished for the last four days," he said.
"What do you mean?" the Scalper asked with a start of surprise.
"The people we are going to see," the adventurer went on, "do not like
to receive visits without being previously advised; surprises do not
agree with them. In order to avoid any misunderstanding, which is always
to be regretted between old friends, I employed the only means in my
power."
"And what is it?"
"Oh, it is very simple. Just look at our camp--do people guard
themselves in this way on the desert? Instead of being at the top of a
hill, we are at the watering place of the wild beasts; the smoke from
our fire, instead of being concealed, is, on the contrary, visible for a
great distance. Do all these acts of imprudence committed purposely
teach you nothing?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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