The White Scalper by Gustave Aimard

Author:Gustave Aimard
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620138977
Publisher: Duke Classics

Chapter XIII - A Conversation

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Tranquil and Loyal Heart, as we have seen, withdrew immediately the opportunity appeared favourable to them, and returned to the hunter's rancho, where No Eusebio had made all preparations to give them a hearty reception. Loyal Heart was too sad by nature, the Canadian too preoccupied by a fixed idea which he had hitherto; kept in his heart, for these two men to take the slightest interest in the coarse festivities of the Indians. All this noise and disturbance wearied them; they felt a desire to rest themselves.

Doña Garillas received them with that calm and radiant smile which seemed to pass over her pale and sad face like a sunbeam passing between two clouds. Attentive to satisfy their slightest desires, she seemed to be thankful to them for their return, and tried, by those thousand little attentions of which women alone possess the secret, to keep them as long as possible by her side.

The hunter's house, so peaceful and comfortable, although in the prejudiced sight of a European it would have seemed hardly above the most wretched labourer's cabin in this country, formed a contrast which was not without grandeur with the leather callis of the Redskins, those receptacles of vermin, where the most utter neglect and complete forgetfulness, not only of comfort, but of the most simple enjoyments of life, were visible.

Loyal Heart, after respectfully kissing his mother's forehead, shaking hands with No Eusebio, and patting his dogs, which leapt up at him with joyous whines, sat down to table, making Tranquil a sign to follow his example. Since the previous night a singular change had taken place in the manner, and even countenance of the old hunter. He whose movements were generally so frank and steady, seemed embarrassed; his eye had lost the fire which illumined it and gave it so noble an expression; his eyebrows continually met under the effect of some secret thought; his very speech was sharper than usual.

The young man watched pensively, and with a melancholy smile, the hunter's movements. When the meal was over, and the pipes were lit, after making his mother and No Eusebio a sign to withdraw, he turned to the Canadian—

"My guest," he said affectionately, "we are old friends, are we not? Although we have known each other but a short time."

"Certainly! Loyal Heart, in the desert friendships and hatreds grow rapidly, and we have been together under circumstances when two men, side by side, can appreciate each other in a few minutes."

"Will you let me ask you a question?"

"Of course," the hunter answered.

"Stay," the young man continued; "do we understand each other? Will you promise to answer me this question?"

"Why not?" Tranquil said quietly.

"Who knows—¿quién sabe? as we Spanish Americans say," the young man replied with a smile.

"Nonsense," the Canadian replied carelessly; "ask your question, mine host; I cannot foresee the possibility of my being unable to answer you."

"But, supposing it were so?"

"I do not suppose it; you are a man of too upright sense, and too great intelligence, to fall into that error.

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