The Tiger Hunter. Майн Рид
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white men, or buried in the dark mines—while the conquerors have divided among them and made slaves of the survivors! An hundred needy adventurers have been transformed into grand magnates—each endowed with a portion of the conquered territory; and at this moment the last descendant of the Caciques is forced to earn his subsistence almost as a slave—to submit to the tyranny of a white master—to expose his life daily for the destruction of fierce beasts, lest they should ravage the flocks and herds of his thankless employer; while, of the vast plains over which he is compelled to pursue his perilous calling, there remains to him not a spot he can call his own—not even the ground occupied by his miserable hut.”
The speaker might have gone on much longer without fear of his hearer interrupting him. The latter was held mute with astonishment, as well as by a kind of involuntary respect with which the words of his companion had inspired him. In all probability the negro had never before heard that a powerful and civilised people existed in that country previous to the arrival of the Spaniards. At all events he had never suspected that the man who was thus enlightening him—the half-Pagan, half-Christian tiger-hunter—was the descendant of the ancient masters of Tehuantepec.
As for Costal himself, after making these statements of the former splendours of his family—in which, notwithstanding his pompous mode of declaring them, there was much truth—he lapsed into a profound silence; and, his face turned with a melancholy expression upon the ground, he took no notice of the effect produced on the mind of his black companion.
Chapter Seven.
The Chase of the Jaguar.
The sun was gradually inclining towards the horizon, when a prolonged howl, shrill at first, but ending in a hoarse roar, fell upon the ears of the two adventurers. It appeared to come from a brake some distance down the river; but, near or distant, it at once changed the expression upon the countenance of the negro. Fear took the place of astonishment; and, on hearing the sound, he sprang suddenly to his feet.
“Jesus Maria!” exclaimed he, “it is the jaguar again!”
“Well, what if it be?” said Costal, who had neither risen, nor made the slightest gesture.
“The jaguar!” repeated the negro in his terror.
“The jaguar? You are mistaken,” said Costal.
“God grant that I may be,” rejoined the black, beginning to hope that the sounds had deceived him.
“You are mistaken as to the number,” coolly proceeded Costal. “There is not one jaguar, but four—if you include the cachorros!”
Perceiving the sense in which Costal meant he was mistaken, the negro, with terror gleaming in his eyes, appeared as if about to start off towards the hacienda.
“Take care what you do!” said the Indian, apparently inclined to amuse himself with the fears of his companion. “It is quite true, I believe, that these animals are very fond of black men’s flesh.”
“Carrambo! just now you told me the contrary?”
“Well, perhaps I am mistaken upon that point; but one thing I know well—for I have proved it a hundred times—that is, that a brace of tigers, when the male and female are together, seldom roar in that fashion—especially if they suspect the presence of a human being. It is more likely, therefore, that at this moment they are separated; and by going towards the hacienda, you might risk getting between the two.”
“Heaven preserve me from getting into such a scrap,” muttered the negro.
“Well, then; the best thing you can do is to stay where you are—beside a man who don’t care a claco for the jaguars.”
The negro hesitated, not quite certain that it would be the best thing for him. At that moment, however, a second howl, coming in a direction entirely opposite to the first, decided his uncertainty, and convinced him that the tigrero had spoken the truth.
“You see,” said Costal, “the brutes are in search of something to eat. That’s why they are calling to one another. Well, now! if you’re still in the mind, off with you to the hacienda!”
This was of course meant as a taunt; for the negro, who now perceived that there was a jaguar howling in the way that led to the hacienda, had given up all notion of proceeding in that direction. On the contrary, while his black face turned of an ashen-grey colour, he drew closer to his imperturbable companion—who had not even attempted to take hold of the carbine which lay on the grass by his side!
“Bah!” muttered Costal, speaking to himself, “this comrade of mine is scarce brave enough for my purpose. I must defer it, till I meet with one possessed of more courage.” Then resuming the current of his thoughts, which had been interrupted by the howling of the jaguars, he said aloud—“Where is the red man, where the black, who would not lift his arm to aid this brave priest?—he who has risen against the oppressor—the oppressor of all Zapoteques, Creoles, and Aztecs. Have these Spaniards not been more ferocious than even the tigers themselves?”
“I should not fear them, at any rate,” interposed Clara.
“Good! I am glad you talk that way, comrade. To-morrow let us give warning to our master, Don Mariano de Silva. He must find another tigrero; and we shall go and join the insurgents in the west.”
The Indian had scarce finished his speech, when another howl came from the jaguars, as if to put the patience of the tiger-hunter to the test. It was even more spitefully prolonged, coming in the direction in which the first had been heard—that is, from a point upon the river a little above where the two men were seated.
On hearing it, thus uttered as a signal of defiance, the eyes of the tigrero began to sparkle with an irresistible desire for the chase.
“By the souls of the Caciques of Tehuantepec!” exclaimed he, “this is too much for human patience. I shall teach those two braggarts not to talk so loud of their affairs. Now, Clara!” continued he, springing to his feet, “you shall have the opportunity of becoming acquainted with a jaguar at closer quarters than you have hitherto been.”
“Carrambo!” exclaimed the black, “why should I go near them? I have no weapon, and would be of no use to you?”
“Hear me, Clara!” said the Indian, without replying to the speech of his comrade. “The one that howled last is the male. He was calling to the female, his mate. He is a good distance from here, up stream. We must go up to him; and as there’s not a stream on all the estate, where I haven’t either a canoe or periagua, for the purposes of my calling—”
“You have one here, then?” interrupted Clara.
“Certainly I have. We can go up the river; and in the canoe you will not be in the slightest danger. I have my own notions as to how we may best approach this noisy brute.”
“But the jaguars can swim like seals, I have heard?”
“I don’t deny it. Never mind that; come on!”
Without deigning further speech, the tigrero started forward; and going cautiously, approached that part of the bank where his canoe was moored.
Clara seeing that it would be perhaps less dangerous to accompany him than remain where he was alone, reluctantly followed.
In a few minutes they arrived at the place where the canoe was fastened to the bank; a rude craft, just large enough to carry two men. A paddle lay at the bottom; along with a piece of matting of plaited palm-leaf, which on occasions was called into requisition as a sail. But Costal threw out the matting, as there was no likelihood of its being required upon the present occasion.
Having loosed the cord by which the canoe was attached to the