Stronghand

Gustave Aimard

Description

In this action-packed Western, a young woman finds herself lost in a desolate stretch of the desert in what is now the Southwest U.S. and is soon set upon by a pack of drifters with nefarious intent. Is there any way she can escape what appears to be her certain fate?

Sujets

• Westerns
• Western (genre)
• Western

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 décembre 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776596751
• Langue: English

Extrait

STRONGHAND
OR, THE NOBLE REVENGE
* * *
GUSTAVE AIMARD
Translated by
LASCELLES WRAXALL
 
*
Stronghand Or, The Noble Revenge First published in 1864 Epub ISBN 978-1-77659-675-1 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77659-676-8 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - An Exchange of Shots Chapter II - On the Prairie Chapter III - The Bivouac Chapter IV - The Post of San Miguel Chapter V - The Stay in the Forest Chapter VI - A Glance at the Past Chapter VII - The Family Tribunal Chapter VIII - The Two Brothers Chapter IX - A New Character Chapter X - Don José Paredes Chapter XI - On the Road Chapter XII - A Conversation by Night Chapter XIII - The Real de Minas Chapter XIV - The Bargain Chapter XV - The Papazos Chapter XVI - The Atepetl Chapter XVII - The Spy Chapter XVIII - The Council of the Sachems Chapter XIX - The Rancho Chapter XX - Lost! Chapter XXI - Stronghand Chapter XXII - The Return Chapter XXIII - Chance Work Chapter XXIV - Father and Son Chapter XXV - The Hatchet Chapter XXIV - The White-Skins Chapter XXVII - Serious Events Chapter XXVIII - The Tigrero Chapter XXIX - The Excursion Chapter XXX - The Hunter's Camp Chapter XXXI - The Legend Chapter XXXII - Kidd Reappears Chapter XXXIII - Complications Chapter XXXIV - Two Villains Chapter XXXV - A Friendly Bargain Chapter XXXVI - The Hacienda del Toro Chapter XXXVII - The Huerta Chapter XXXVIII - The Assault on Quitovar Chapter XXXIX - The Vengeance of Heaven Chapter XL - Funeral of a Sachem
Chapter I - An Exchange of Shots
*
The country extending between the Sierra de San Saba and the RioPuerco, or Dirty River, is one of the most mournful and melancholyregions imaginable.
This accursed savannah, on which bleach unrecognized skeletons, whichthe wind and sun strive to convert into dust, is an immense desert,broadcast with grey rocks, beneath which snakes and wild beasts have,from time immemorial, formed their lurking-place, and which onlyproduces black shrubs and stunted larches that rise from distance todistance above the desert.
White or Indian travellers rarely and most unwillingly venture tocross this frightful solitude, and at the risk of lengthening theirjourney they prefer making a detour and following the border, wherethey are certain of finding shade and water—those delights of tropicalcountries and indispensable necessities for a long trip on the westernprairies.
Towards the second half of June—which the Navajo Indians call the"strawberry moon" in their harmonious language—and in the Year ofGrace 1843, a horseman suddenly emerged from a thick clump of oaks,sumachs, and mahogany trees, entered the savannah at a gallop, and,instead of following the usual travellers' track, which was distinctlytraced on the edge of the sand, he began without any hesitationcrossing the desert in a straight line.
This resolution was a mark of great folly, or a proof of extraordinarydaring on the part of a solitary man, however brave he might be; orelse some imperious reasons compelled him to lay aside all prudence inorder to reach his journey's end more speedily.
However, whatever the motives that might determine the traveller, hecontinued his journey rapidly, and buried himself deeper and deeper inthe desert, without seeming to notice the gloomy and desolate aspectthe landscape around him constantly assumed.
As this person is destined to play an important part in our story, wewill draw his portrait in a few words. He was a man of from twenty-fiveto thirty years of age—belonging to the pure Mexican race, of averageheight, and possessed of elegant manners; while his every gesture,graceful though it was, revealed a far from ordinary strength. Hisface, with its regular features and bright hue, evidenced frankness,bravery, and kindliness; his black eyes, haughty and well open,had a straight and penetrating glance; his well cut mouth, adornedwith dazzling white teeth, was half concealed beneath a long brownmoustache; his chin, of too marked an outline perhaps, denoted a greatfirmness of character; in short, his whole appearance aroused interestand attracted sympathy.
As for his dress, it was the Mexico costume in all its picturesquerichness. His broad-brimmed Vicuna skin hat, decorated with a doublegold and silver golilla , was carelessly set on his right ear, andallowed curls of luxurious black hair to fall in disorder on hisshoulders. He wore a jacket of green velvet, magnificently embroideredwith gold, under which could be seen a worked linen shirt. An Indianhandkerchief was fastened round his neck by a diamond ring. His calzoneras , also of green velvet, held round his hips by a red silkgold-fringed faja were embroidered and slashed like a jacket, whiletwo rows of pearl-set gold buttons ran along the opening that extendsfrom the boot to the knee. His vaquero boots, embroidered with prettydesigns in red thread, were fastened to his legs by silk and goldgarters, from one of which emerged the admirably carved hilt of a longknife. His zarapé, of Indian fabric and showy colours, was folded onthe back of his horse, an animal full of fire, with fine legs, smallhead, and flashing eye. It was a true prairie mustang; and its masterhad decorated it with the coquettish elegance peculiar to Mexicanhorsemen.
In addition to the knife we referred to, and which the horseman worein his right boot, he had also a long American rifle laid across hissaddle-bow, two six-shot revolvers in his girdle, a machete, or speciesof straight sabre, which was passed, unsheathed, through an iron ringon his left side; and, lastly, a reata of plaited leather, rolled upand fastened to the saddle.
Thus armed, the man we have just described was able—on the admissionthat his determined appearance was not deceitful—to make head againstseveral adversaries at once, without any serious disadvantage. Thiswas a consideration not at all to be despised in a country where atraveller ever runs the risk of encountering an enemy, whether man orbeast, and, at times both together.
While galloping, the horseman carelessly smoked a husk cigarette, onlytaking an absent and disdainful glance at the coveys of birds that roseon his approach, or the herds of deer and packs of foxes which fled interror on hearing the horse's gallop.
The savannah, however, was already beginning to assume a more gloomytinge; the sun, now level with the ground, only appeared on the horizonas a red unheated ball, and night was soon about to cover the earthwith its dense gloom. The horseman drew up the bridle of his steedto check its speed, though not entirely stopping it, and, casting aninvestigating glance around him, seemed to be seeking a suitable spotfor his night halt.
After a few seconds of this search, the traveller's determination wasformed. He turned slightly to the left, and proceeded to a half driedup stream that ran along a short distance off, and on whose banks grewa few prickly shrubs and a clump of some dozen larches, forming aprecarious shelter against the curiosity of those mysterious denizensof the desert that prowl about in search of prey during the darkness.
On drawing nearer, the traveller perceived to his delight that thisspot, perfectly hidden from prying glances, by the conformation of theground and a few blocks of stone scattered here and there among thetrees and shrubs, offered him an almost certain shelter.
The journey had been tiring; and both man and horse felt themselvesworn with fatigue. Both, before proceeding further, imperiouslyrequired a few hours' rest.
The horseman, as an experienced traveller, first attended to his steed,which he unsaddled and led to drink at the stream; then, after hobblingthe animal for fear it might stray and become the prey of wild beasts,he stretched his zarapé on the ground, threw a few handfuls of Indiancorn upon it, and when he was assured that his horse, in spite of itsfatigue, was eating its provender willingly, he thought about himself.
Mexicans, when travelling, carry behind their saddle two canvas bags,called alforjas , intended to convey food, which it is impossible toprocure in the desert; and these, with two jars filled with drinkingwater, form the sole baggage with which they cover enormous distances,and endure privations and fatigue, the mere enumeration of which wouldterrify Europeans, who are accustomed to enjoy all the conveniencessupplied by an advanced stage of civilization.
The horseman opened his alforjas, sat down on the ground with his backagainst a rock, and, while careful that his weapons were within reach,for fear of being attacked unawares, he began supping philosophicallyon a piece of tasajo, some maize tortillas, and goat's cheese as hardas a flint, the whole being washed down with the pure water of thestream.
This repast, which was more than frugal, was soon terminated. Thehorseman, after cleaning his teeth with an elegant gold toothpick,rolled a pajilla, smoked it with that conscientious beatitude peculiarto the Hispano-Americans, and then wrapped himself in his zarapé, shuthis eyes, and fell asleep.
Several hours passed; and it is probable that the traveller's sleepwould have been prolonged for some time, had not two shots, fired ashort distance from him, suddenly aroused him from his lethargy. Thegeneral rule on the prairie is, that when you hear a shot, it is rarefor it not to have been preceded by the whistle of a bullet past yourear—in other words, there are nin