The Black Eagle of the Dacotahs E-Book

Aimard Gustave

• Herausgeber: La penna dorata
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

A new novel of the Far West published under the double signature of Gustave Aimard and Jules Berlioz d'Auriac. Civilization is animated by an immense force which pushes it to an unlimited expansion; like the impatient vapor raised by an ardent flame, it is always boiling, ready to spread beyond the known limits. Civilization is the perpetual movement of humanity, always in search of the infinite. But, in its path, it leaves traces, often miserable or bloody, wrecks tossed on the ocean of destiny; it destroys while creating; it makes ruins while consolidating its edifice; it engulfs whoever wants to fight with it. Only two centuries ago, people called Savages, why savages?... They were projecting in the virgin forests of the New World their free indolence, their solitary freedom, their carefree ignorance of the rest of the universe. Civilization has fallen upon these happy regions, like an avalanche, it has swept before it the woods, their wandering hosts, Indians, buffaloes, gazelles or leopards; it has suppressed the desert and its deep mysteries; it has absorbed everything.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

I To the West2

II A noble heart

III The Apostle

IV Charles and Hélène

V The Prisoner of the Dacotahs

VI Water!

VII The Mormon Cavalcade

VIII Fire on the Meadow

IX Heart-Law

X Complications

XI The Lone Rider

XII An unexpected guide

XIII Poor Waupee!

XIV Tribulations of a Prophet

XV A duel in the desert

Epilogue

ITo the West

Civilization is animated by an immense force which impels it to limitless expansion; like the impatient vapor raised by a burning flame, it is always boiling, ready to spread beyond the known limits. Civilization is the perpetual movement of humanity, always in search of the infinite.

But in its path it leaves traces, often miserable or bloody, - wrecks tossed about on the ocean of destiny; - it destroys while creating; it makes ruins while consolidating its edifice; it engulfs anyone who wants to fight with it.

Only two centuries ago, people called Savages - why savages? - were wandering through the virgin forests of the New World with their free indolence, their solitary freedom, their carefree ignorance of the rest of the universe.

Civilization has swept over these happy regions like an avalanche; it has swept before it the woods, their wandering hosts,-Indians, buffaloes, gazelles, or leopards;-it has suppressed the desert and its deep mysteries; it has absorbed everything.

Today, newspapers are printed and sold where once the Delaware, Mohican or Huron smoked the peace pipe; stock is traded where the buffalo roared; sewing machines are made where the Indian squaw prepared the hunter's pemmican; the rail-way has replaced the Sioux's trails on the warpath; hosiery is sold where heroes fought.

And little by little the Red Man, the real one, the master of the desert, withdrew, struggling at first, fleeing later, asking for mercy at last - asking, but not getting! for a last place on this land of his ancestors, to sleep beside their old bones.

Roll avalanche! fall nations from the desert! and roll down that inexorable slope which leads to the Ocean. Soon the Indian will have lived, he will be a legend, a shadow, a myth; he will be spoken of, as of a fable; and then he will not even be spoken of again; oblivion will have devoured everything.

Please follow us into this almost vanished world: the Oregon Prairies offer us hospitality, the great and majestic hospitality that God gives to man in the desert.

The morning was delightful: fresh and joyful from its nightly rest, the sun sent its first rays to gather in the chalice of the flowers myriads of pearls sown by the dew; every leaf of the forest, illuminated by a golden arrow, sent around it reflections of emerald; every hill became flushed; every pink cloud seemed to be looking for a nest to keep its freshness. The birds sang, the boughs babbled, the streams murmured; all was joy in the air and on the earth, and from the immense desert rose the ineffable harmony that each day greets the Creator.

In one of those groups of trees which so picturesquely break up the uniformity of the eternal lawns, was the rustic camp of a convoy of pioneers. In the midst of the circular entrenchment formed by the wagons stood, under the foliage of a tulip tree, a pretty white tent looking from a distance like some great swan asleep on the turf.

In the carriages one could have heard the robust breathing of the sleepers; this peaceful echo of sleep excited a melancholy reverie and some symptoms of envy in the sentry who watched over the salvation of the passengers.

The curtain of the little white tent swung open, and revealed the lovely head of a young girl; her long wavy hair, as blonde as the ripe wheat, spread profusely over her shoulders, while her two cute little hands sought in vain to unite it in a broad braid; Her black eyes with blue reflections illuminated a fresh pink face; a joyful smile animated her charming figure, at the sight of the splendours of the dawn; with a leap of a gazelle she dashed out of the tent and advanced on the lawn with the gait of a fairy or an enchanted princess.

She saw clumps of flowers that had been spared by the heavy feet of men and horses, and ran to pick them, dipping her hands laughingly into the fragrant dew.

- And now," she said to herself, with delighted eyes over the rolling plain, "let's take a little excursion into the meadow! It is not a walk to follow the fortified march of the wagons where I feel imprisoned. Let us go to the flowers! Let us go to the fields! How good it will be to run on this grass with the morning wind!

Esther Morse (that was her name) went into her tent and took a straw hat, rustic, but decorated with beautiful crimson ribbons, put it on coquettishly, and went off singing half-heartedly.

She passed by the sentry who, tired from his sleepless night, was leaning languidly on his rifle. He was a handsome young man, tall and strong, and when he saw the young walker he flinched as if he had seen an apparition.

- It is not my business to give you advice, Miss Esther," he murmured, "but beware; there is no telling what Redskins are lying in ambush behind those rocks over there.

- Don't worry about me, Abel Cummings," she answered with a graceful smile, "I only want to take a walk on the lawn. I shall be back before lunch.

- If angels came down to earth, I'd think I saw one," the young man thought as he watched her walk away.

Soon she had passed the camp enclosure; unconcerned with danger, and wholly absorbed in the charm of the delightful scenery around her, Esther ran to the stream whose fresh murmur could be heard in the wood. On the way she flitted from flower to flower, gathering to the right and to the left like a morning bee. When she arrived at the water's edge, she could not refrain from looking into it: never had this desert mirror reflected a prettier face; the young girl took advantage of the opportunity to make a country toilet and arrange a crown of flowers in the thick braids of her luxuriant hair.

Suddenly she was startled by a furtive noise, and listened for a moment, trembling, looking hastily around. Was it the wind in the branches...? the distant thunder of a band of galloping buffaloes...? or the wary tread of some great grey wolf...? or, oh, terror! the unseen march of the fierce Indian in search of captives or hair...?

At the first glance she cast behind her, she saw an Indian woman standing at some distance. Esther's first movement was to run towards the camp to escape the pursuit of the Indians; but at the first step she took, she felt a hand grasp the fluttering folds of her dress: the Indian woman was at her side.

- Look at me," said the latter in a guttural but caressing and harmonious voice; "look at me, not at the enemy. Has Paleface forgotten the Laramis? The memory of white women is not as straight as the heart of red women.

For a moment the blood in Esther's veins froze, and she recognized in the young Indian girl the daughter of a friendly tribe whom the travellers had met a few weeks before.

- The white woman has been good to me. Has she already forgotten me? Does she no longer recognize the wife of a great Sioux chief?

The young Indian girl, brightly illuminated by the nascent rays of the sun, realized in all its perfection the rare type of wild beauty. Slender and supple in stature, straightening herself with feline grace; small feet adorned with coquettish moccasins of white fur; long, silky brown hair with golden highlights; large gazelle eyes, deep and pensive; an eagle's profile, melted, as it were, into the physiognomy of a dove; all combined in her to make an admirable creature, who could not easily be forgotten.

- Yes," said Esther, "I remember you well, but what was your motive in going so far from your tribe? I did not think that Indian women were in the habit of going so far from their wigwams, and of leaving their husbands.

- Waupee no longer has a husband.

- What do you mean? Not a month ago I saw you the wife of a great warrior, famous on the hunting trail.

- One day a woman as beautiful as a white rose came to the Black Eagle's wigwam. The warrior forgot about Waupee his wife, and his heart went out to the white dress. Waupee no longer has a husband.

- Waupee! (that is, White Hawk) what are you talking about? I don't understand you.

- The warrior would not look at the moon again when the golden rays of the sun hit his eyelid.

- You speak to me in riddles; explain yourself clearly.

- The Black Eagle has his eyes fixed on the beauty of the Paleface," said the Indian woman, pressing her finger against Esther's breast.

- You are mistaken!" replied Esther with a worried smile.

- My tongue follows the straight path of truth.

- But this is madness! He will not see me again; he will forget me, Waupee! and beautiful days will come again for you.

- The red man never forgets.

- And you've come a long way... you've come so far to tell me about this?

- Wigwam of Waupee is sorry.

- You have another motive... speak, speak, I beseech you.

- Let my white-faced sister bend her ear, that Waupee may whisper secret words into it," said the Indian woman, lowering her voice and looking about her anxiously; "the woods, the waters, the rocks have ears.

- Oh, you scare me to death, what are you going to tell me?

White Hawk raised himself on his little feet to reach Esther's ear, and clasping her in his arms said hastily:

- The Black Eagle of the Sioux is on the trail of the Paleface, seeking to make her his prisoner.

- Horror! He may be posted between us and my father's camp; thank you! thank you! good Waupee, I...

- The earth trembles under the horses' feet, but they are far away. Let my pale-faced sister run back to her people, and let her go no further. The Black Eagle's eye is piercing, his feet light, his heart knows neither pity nor fear.

- What about you, Waupee?

- The Great Spirit will lead me. The poor Indian girl risked her life to save you: you will not forget her...

At the same moment, Waupee flinched as if bitten by a snake, and without a word, disappeared into the thicket.

Left to herself, Esther remained motionless and uncertain for a few seconds; then she fled towards the camp with the rapidity of a frightened deer. Feeling her legs give way under her, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath, and, while listening with terror, stooped to take with her hand a few drops of water from the stream.

When she got up to flee again, the bushes opened with a bang beside her, a dark shape appeared: it was the Black Eagle of the Sioux.

- Ugh!" came the guttural, restrained voice of the savage.

At the same time he seized the frightened girl in his red arms, and carried her away as the bird whose name he bore had done with a dove.

IIA noble heart

- Abel Cummings! What are you doing here, my good man? Come here a minute.

As he spoke, an elderly man of good looks and good humour emerged from a large carriage which had served as his bedroom.

- What am I doing, sir? Seeing if Miss Esther appears over there. She went out this morning, a bit recklessly, I thought.

- You can occupy yourself more usefully than in following the capricious walk of a woman. Let her run, and we shall see her come in a full gallop in a little while. Let us think of putting everything in order for the departure.

- But, sir, there are Indian vagabonds all over these woods; who knows what they would do to the girl?

- Perhaps they will eat it!" said the father with a hearty laugh.

Displeased at this reply, the young man turned away sharply, and for an hour forgot his fears amid the tumult of the preparations. However, several of his companions shared his anxiety, knowing well the recklessness of the girl, who had hitherto been accustomed to satisfy her every whim.

Her father himself, though apparently indifferent, kept turning his eyes in the direction Esther had taken. This charming child was the only survivor of a beloved family; she was the only and last happiness of her father, who, wounded in the heart by the successive deaths of his wife and sons, sought in the distant West solitude and deep rest.

Lunchtime came, and the girl did not return. A few moments passed in an increasingly anxious expectation, and soon every one's heart was clenched by the presentiment of some unknown catastrophe. All eyes looked anxiously towards the prairie, but there was nothing to be seen, everywhere trees, lawns as far as the eye could see, a few vultures in the air, but no appearance of a human creature; only a dishevelled band of wild horses appeared and disappeared like a flash, at the edge of the powdery horizon; then the desert resumed its solitary and inanimate physiognomy.

This fleeting incident reminded the old man of what had to be done.

- Saddle your best horses, children!" he cried.

This order, uttered in a heart-rending voice, was carried out with a kind of excitement by the anxious servants.

- Abel Cummings, take us there, for you were the last to see her.

- Yes, sir... I...

- Come on! No useless words! Quick and energetic actions! My daughter's safety depends on it. I promise a hundred dollars to the first man who brings me news of her. To horseback, my friends! Let us all go, except those who remain to guard the camp.