Queen of the Savannah

Gustave Aimard

Description

Though born in France, author Gustave Aimard spent a long stretch of his life roaming the Western territories of the United States. He was particularly fascinated by the rough-and-tumble borderlands that stretch across the vast area that is now California, Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. The thrilling action-adventure tale The Queen of the Savannah unfurls against the backdrop of a local uprising that gradually takes hold across the region.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Adventure

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 décembre 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776596836
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE QUEEN OF THE SAVANNAH
A STORY OF THE MEXICAN WAR
* * *
GUSTAVE AIMARD
Translated by
LASCELLES WRAXALL
 
*
The Queen of the Savannah A Story of the Mexican War First published in 1862 Epub ISBN 978-1-77659-683-6 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77659-684-3 © 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
*
Prologue Chapter I - The Adventurers Chapter II - A Night in the Woods Chapter III - The Succour Chapter IV - Inside the Hacienda Chapter V - The Council Chapter VI - General Fray Pelagio Chapter VII - A Conversation Chapter VIII - The Envoy Chapter IX - Don Melchior Díaz Chapter X - Mother and Daughter Chapter XI - The Sortie Chapter XII - On the Road Chapter XIII - An Alarm Chapter XIV - The Redskins Chapter XV - Count de Melgosa Chapter XVI - Diego López Chapter XVII - Leona Vicario Chapter XVIII - The Interview Chapter XIX - The Dungeon Chapter XX - Sotavento Makes a Move Chapter XXI - The Council of the Red Buffaloes Chapter XXII - The War Trail Chapter XXIII - The Snare Chapter XXIV - Oliver Clary Chapter XXV - The Wounded Man Chapter XXVI - Doña Emilia Chapter XXVII - The Chief's Proposal Chapter XXVIII - Preparations for a Rescue Chapter XXIX - The Revolution Chapter XXX - On the Trail Chapter XXXI - The Jacal Chapter XXXII - The Prisoner Chapter XXXIII - Moonshine Chapter XXXIV - The Teocali Chapter XXXV - In the Field Chapter XXXVI - A Young Heart Chapter XXXVII - The Ambush Chapter XXXVIII - The Pursuit Chapter XXXIX - Running Water Endnotes
Prologue
*
Chapter I - The Expedition
The story begins on May 5, 1805, in one of the wildest and most abruptportions of New Spain, which now forms the State of Coahuila, belongingto the Mexican Confederation.
If the reader will have the kindness to take a glance at a numerouscavalcade, which is debouching from a canyon and scaling at a gallopthe scarped side of a rather lofty hill, on the top of which stands an aldea , or village of Indios mansos, he will at the same time form theacquaintance of several of our principal characters, and the country inwhich the events recorded in this narrative occurred.
This cavalcade was composed of fifteen individuals in all; ten of themwere lancers, attired in that yellow uniform which procured them thenickname of tamarindos . These soldiers were execrated by the people,in consequence of their cruelty. They advanced in good order, commandedby a subaltern and an alférez—an old trooper who had grown gray inharness, who had long white moustachios and a disagreeable face. As hegalloped on, he looked around him with the careless, wearied air of aman for whom the future reserves no hopes either of ambition, love, orfortune.
About twenty paces from this little band, and just so far aheadthat their remarks reached the soldiers' ears in a completelyincomprehensible fashion, three persons, two men and a woman, wereriding side by side.
The first was a gentleman of about thirty years of age, of commandingstature; his harsh, haughty, and menacing features were rendered evenmore gloomy by a deep scar of a livid hue which commenced on his righttemple and divided his face into two nearly equal parts.
This man, who was dressed in the sumptuous costume of the Mexican campesinos , which he wore with far from common grace, was named DonAníbal de Saldibar, and was considered the richest hacendero in theprovince.
His companion, who kept slightly in the rear, doubtless throughrespect, was a civilized Indian, with a quick eye, aquiline nose, and awide mouth lined with two rows of dazzling white teeth. His countenanceindicated intelligence and bravery. He was short and robust, and thealmost disproportioned development of his muscles gave an enormouswidth to his limbs. This individual must assuredly be endowed withextraordinary strength. His attire, not nearly so rich as that of thehacendero, displayed a certain pretension to elegance, which was anextraordinary thing in an Indian.
This man's name was Pedro Sotavento, and he was majordomo to Don Aníbal.
As we have said, the third person was a female. Although it was easy tosee, through the juvenile grace of her movements and her taper waist,that she was still very young, she was so discreetly hidden behindgauze and muslin veils, in order to protect her from the burning heatof the sun which was then at its zenith, that it was impossible todistinguish her features. Long black locks escaped from beneath herbroad-brimmed vicuña hat, and fell in profusion on her pink and whiteshoulders, which were scarcely veiled by a China crape rebozo .
At the moment when we approach these three persons they were conversingtogether with considerable animation.
"No," Don Aníbal said, with a frown, as he smote the pommel of hissaddle, "it is not possible, I cannot believe in so much audacityon the part of these Indian brutes. You must have been deceived,Sotavento."
The majordomo grinned knowingly, and buried his head between hisshoulders with a motion which was habitual to him.
"You will see, mi amo ," he replied, in a honeyed voice, "myinformation is positive."
"What!" the hacendero continued with increased fury, "They would reallyattempt resistance! Why, they must be mad!"
"Not so much as you suppose, mi amo; the aldea is large and contains atleast three thousand callis ."
"What matter? Suppose there were twice as many, is not one Spaniard asgood as ten Indians?"
"In the open, perhaps so."
"What is that you say—perhaps?" Don Aníbal exclaimed, turning sharplyround, and giving his majordomo a glance of supreme contempt. "Really,Sotavento, your Indian origin involuntarily abuses your judgment bymaking you regard things differently from what they really are."
"No, mi amo. The Indian origin with which you reproach me, on thecontrary, makes me judge the situation healthily; and, believe me, itis far more serious than you imagine."
These words were uttered in a serious tone, which caused the proudSpaniard to reflect.
Pedro Sotavento had been in his service for a long time. He knewthat he was brave and incapable of being intimidated by threats orrodomontade. Moreover, he had always been kind to him, and believedhimself sure of his devotion, hence he continued in a milder key—
"That is the reason, then, why you insisted so strongly on my taking anescort when we passed the Fort of Agua Verde?"
"Yes, mi amo," he replied, giving the soldiers a glance of singularexpression. "I should have liked it to be more numerous."
"Nonsense, had it not been through consideration for the señora, whomI am anxious not to terrify in her present condition, I would nothave accepted a single soldier. We alone are more than sufficient tochastise these scoundrels, were there a thousand of them."
"Don Aníbal," the young lady here said in a soft and harmonious voice,"the contempt you profess for these poor people is unjust. Though theyare of a different colour from us, and almost devoid of intellect,they are men for all that, and as such have a claim on our pity."
"Very good, señora," the hacendero answered savagely; "take their partagainst me, that will not fail to produce an excellent effect."
"I take no person's part, Don Aníbal," she continued, with a slighttremor in her voice. "I merely offer an opinion which I considercorrect, that is all. But your outbursts of passion terrify me; perhapsit would have been better to leave me at the hacienda, as I expressed adesire."
"My family are never insulted with impunity, señora; I wished you towitness the vengeance which I intend taking for the insult offered toyou."
"I made no complaint to you, Don Aníbal. The slight insult I received,even admitting that it was an insult, does not deserve so terriblea punishment as you purpose to inflict on these unhappy creatures.Take care, Don Aníbal. These men whom, in your Castilian pride, youobstinately insist on ranking with the brute beasts and treating assuch, will grow weary one day. They already feel a profound hatred foryou. The Indians are vindictive, and may wait perhaps for twenty yearsthe opportunity to repay you the evil you have done them; but thentheir vengeance will be frightful."
"Enough, señora," the hacendero said roughly; "but while waiting forthis vengeance with which you menace me in their name, I mean to treatthem as they deserve."
The young lady bowed her head, and made no further remark.
"Oh!" the majordomo said, with a grin of mockery, "You can strikewithout fear, mi amo. The Indians have been too long accustomed tobend their necks for them ever to feel any desire to draw themselves upand bite the hand which chastises them."
These words were uttered with an accent which would have caused DonAníbal to reflect seriously, had he not been so infatuated about hisreal or supposed superiority over the unfortunate race that formed thesubject of the conversation we have just reported.
The opinion expressed by the hacendero was not so erroneous as it mightappear to a European. The Spanish name was at this period surroundedby such a prestige; the hapless Indians were reduced to such a stateof degrading servitude and brutalization; they seemed to have sothoroughly recognized the superiority of their oppressors, that thelatter did not even take the trouble to hide the contempt with whichthese degenerate remains of the powerful races they had vanquished informer times inspired them. They affected, under all circumstances, tomake them feel all the weight of the yoke