White Scalper

Gustave Aimard

Description

Set against the backdrop of the Mexican-American War, Gustave Aimard's thrilling adventure tale The White Scalper is yet another of the author's novels whose central protagonist is something of a cultural misfit, an outsider who has spurned social niceties in favor of what he views as a higher moral calling. Packed with action that transpires on the battlefield and off, this novel will please fans of classic Western yarns.

Sujets

• Westerns
• Western (genre)
• Western

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 mai 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776536993
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE WHITE SCALPER
A STORY OF THE TEXAN WAR
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GUSTAVE AIMARD
 
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The White Scalper A Story of the Texan War First published in 1861 Epub ISBN 978-1-77653-699-3 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77653-700-6 © 2013 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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Advertisement Chapter I - A Reconnoissance Chapter II - A Bargain Chapter III - The Retreat Chapter IV - John Davis Chapter V - Before the Battle Chapter VI - The Battle of Cerro Pardo Chapter VII - The Atepetl Chapter VIII - Hospitality Chapter IX - The Marriage Chapter X - Return to Life Chapter XI - The Pirates of the Prairies Chapter XII - In the Cavern Chapter XIII - A Conversation Chapter XIV - Two Enemies Chapter XV - The Ambuscade Chapter XVI - The Scalp Dance Chapter XVII - The Meeting Chapter XVIII - A Reaction Chapter XIX - A Page of History Chapter XX - The Bivouac Chapter XXI - Sandoval Chapter XXII - Loyal Heart's History Chapter XXIII - The Expiation Chapter XXIV - In the Desert Chapter XXV - The Last Halt Chapter XXVI - San Jacinto Endnotes
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With the conclusion of the present series of GUSTAVE AIMARD'S tales, itmay be advisable to inform the readers in what succession the elevenvolumes already published should be read. It is as follows;—
First Series.
1. BORDER RIFLES. 2. FREEBOOTERS. 3. WHITE SCALPER.
Second Series.
1. TRAIL HUNTER. 2. PIRATES OF THE PRAIRIES. 3. TRAPPER'S DAUGHTER. 4. TIGER-SLAYER. 5. GOLD-SEEKERS. 6. INDIAN CHIEF.
Third Series.
1. PRAIRIE FLOWER. 2. INDIAN SCOUT.
These, three Series are now complete, and in the ensuing volumes theAuthor intends to introduce an entirely fresh set of characters.
Chapter I - A Reconnoissance
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Colonel Melendez, after leaving the Jaguar, galloped with his headafire, and panting chest, along the Galveston road, exciting with hisspurs the ardour of his horse, which yet seemed to devour space, sorapid was its speed. But it is a long journey from the Salto del Frayleto the town. While galloping, the Colonel reflected; and the more he didso, the more impossible did it appear to him that the Jaguar had toldhim the truth. In fact, how could it be supposed that this partisan,brave and rash though he was, would have dared to attack, at the head ofa handful of adventurers, a well-equipped corvette, manned by a numerouscrew, and commanded by one of the best officers in the Mexican navy? Thecapture of the fort seemed even more improbable to the Colonel.
While reflecting thus, the Colonel had gradually slackened his horse'sspeed; the animal, feeling that it was no longer watched, had insensiblypassed from a gallop into a canter, then a trot, and by a perfectlynatural transition, fell into a walk, with drooping head, and snappingat the blades of grass within its reach.
Night had set in for some time past; a complete silence brooded over thecountry, only broken by the hollow moan of the sea as it rolled over theshingle. The Colonel was following a small track formed along the coast,which greatly shortened the distance separating him from Galveston. Thispath, much used by day, was at this early hour of night completelydeserted; the ranchos that stood here and there were shut up, and nolight gleamed through their narrow windows, for the fishermen, fatiguedby the rude toil of the day, had retired to bed at an early hour.
The young officer's horse, which had more and more slackened its pace,emboldened by impunity, at length stopped near a scrubby bush, whoseleaves it began nibbling. This immobility aroused the Colonel from hisreverie, and he looked about him to see where he was. Although theobscurity was very dense, it was easy for him to perceive that he wasstill a long distance from his destination. About a musket-shot aheadwas a rancho, whose hermetically-closed windows allowed a thin pencil oflight to filter through the interstices of the shutters. The Colonelstruck his repeater and found it was midnight. To go on would bemadness; the more so, as it would be impossible for him to find a boatin which to cross to the island. Greatly annoyed at this obstacle,which, supposing the Jaguar's revelations to be true, might entailserious consequences, the young officer, while cursing this involuntarydelay, resolved on pushing on to the rancho before him, and once there,try to obtain means to cross the bay.
After drawing his cloak tightly round him, to protect him as far aspossible from the damp sea air, the Colonel caught up his reins again,and giving his horse the spur, trotted sharply towards the rancho. Thetraveller speedily reached it, but, when only a few paces from it,instead of riding straight up to the door, he dismounted, fastened hishorse to a larch-tree, and, after placing his pistols in his belt, madea rather long circuit, and stealthily crept up to the window of therancho.
In the present state of fermentation from which people were suffering inTexas, the olden confidence had entirely disappeared to make way for thegreatest distrust. The times were past when the doors of houses remainedopen day and night, in order to enable strangers to reach the firesidewith greater facility. Hospitality, which was traditional in theseparts, had, temporarily at any rate, changed into a suspicious reserve,and it would have been an act of unjustifiable imprudence to ride up toa strange house, without first discovering whether it was that of afriend. The Colonel especially, being dressed in a Mexican uniform, wasbound to act with extreme reserve.
This rancho was rather large; it had not that appearance of poverty andneglect which are found only too often in the houses of Spanish AmericanCampesinos. It was a square house, with a roof in the Italian fashion,having in front an azotea-covered portillo. The white-washed walls werean agreeable contrast to the virgin vines, and other plants which ranover it. This rancho was not enclosed with walls: a thick hedge, brokenthrough at several places, alone defended the approaches. Thedependencies of the house were vast, and well kept up. All proved thatthe owner of this mansion carried on a large trade on his account.
The Colonel, as we have said, had softly approached one of the windows.The shutters were carefully closed, but not so carefully as not to letit be seen that someone was up inside. In vain did the Colonel, though,place his eye at the slit, for he could see nothing. If he could notsee, however, he could hear, and the first words that reached his earprobably appeared to him very serious, for he redoubled his attention,in order to lose no portion of the conversation. Employing once againour privilege as romancers, we will enter the rancho, and allow thereader to witness the singular scene going on there, the mostinteresting part of which escaped the Colonel, greatly to his annoyance.
In a rather small room, dimly lighted by a smoky candle, four men, withgloomy faces and ferocious glances, dressed in the garb of Campesinos,were assembled. Three of them, seated on butacas and equipals, werelistening, with their guns between their legs, to the fourth, who, withhis arms behind his back, was walking rapidly up and down, whiletalking.
The broad brims of the vicuña hats which the three first wore, and theobscurity prevailing in the room, only allowed their faces to be dimlyseen, and their expression judged. The fourth, on the contrary, wasbare-headed; he was a man of about forty, tall, and well built; hismuscular limbs denoted a far from common strength, and a forest of blackand curly hair fell on his wide shoulders. He had a lofty forehead,aquiline nose, and black and piercing eyes; while the lower part of hisface disappeared in a long and thick beard. There was in the appearanceof this man something bold and haughty, which inspired respect, andalmost fear.
At this moment, he seemed to be in a tremendous passion; his eyebrowswere contracted, his cheeks livid, and, at times, when he yielded to theemotion he tried in vain to restrain, his eye flashed to fiercely, thatit forced his three hearers to bow their heads humbly, and they seemedto be his inferiors. At the moment when we entered the room, thestranger appeared to be continuing a discussion that had been going onfor some time.
"No," he said in a powerful voice, "things cannot go on thus any longer.You dishonour the holy cause we are defending by revolting acts ofcruelty, which injure us in the opinion of the population, and authoriseall the calumnies our enemies spread with reference to us. It is not byimitating our oppressors that we shall succeed in proving to the massesthat we really wish their welfare. However sweet it may be to avenge aninsult received, where men put themselves forward as defenders of aprinciple so sacred as that for which we have been shedding our bloodthe last ten years, every man must practise self-denial, and forget allhis private animosities to absorb them in the great national vengeance.I tell you this frankly, plainly, and with no reserve. I, who was thefirst that dared to utter the cry of revolt, and inaugurate resistance:I, who, since I have reached man's estate, have sacrificed everything,fortune, friends, and relations, in the sole hope of seeing my countryone day free, would retire from a struggle which is daily dishonoured byexcesses such as the Redskins themselves would disavow."
The three men, who had been tolerably quiet up to this moment, thenrose, protesting simultaneously that they were in