 | CHAPTER I. Guarica, the charib bride |  |
1. CHAPTER I.
The heavy dew of the tropics was yet
lying bright and unexhaled on every herb
and flower; myriads of which, in most
profuse variety of odor and bloom, strewed,
like one gorgeous carpet, the beautiful savannahs,
and wild forest glades of the fair
province of Cahay. The sun had not fairly
risen, although the warm and rosy light
which harbingered his coming, was tinging,
with its fairy dyes, the small and fleecy
clouds that floated, like the isles of some
enchanted sea, over the azure skies. The
faint sea-breeze, which murmured still
among the fresh green leaves, though it
was fast subsiding, was laden with perfumes
of such strange richness, that while
they gratified they almost cloyed the
senses; birds of the most superb and gorgeous
plumage were glancing, meteor-like,
among the boughs; but the innumerable
insect tribes, which almost rival
them in beauty, had not as yet been called
forth to their life of a day, by the young
sunbeams. The loveliness of those sequestered
haunts, which had but recently
been opened to the untiring and insatiate
avarice of the Europeans, exceeded the
most wild conceptions, the most voluptuous
dreams, of the romancer or the poet. The
solemn verdure of the mighty woods thick
set with trees, more graceful than the
shades of those ægean Isles, where the
Ionian muse was born to witch the world
for ages—the light and feathery mimosas,
the fan-like heads of the tall palms, towering
a hundred feet above their humbler, yet
still lofty brethren—the giant oaks, their
whole trunks overgrown with thousands of
bright parasites, and their vast branches
canopied with vines and creepers—masses
of tangled and impervious foliage—the natural
lawns, watered by rills of crystal—
the rocks, that reared themselves among
the forests, mantled not as the crags of the
cold northern climes, with dark and melancholy
ivy, but with festoons of fruits and
flowers that might have graced the gardens
of the fabulous Hesperides. It was
upon such a scene, as is but imperfectly
and feebly shadowed forth, in the most
glowing language, that the sweet dawn
was breaking, when, from a distance,
through the lovely woodlands, the mellow
notes of a horn, clearly and scientifically
winded, came floating on the gentle air;
again it pealed forth its wild cadences,
nearer and louder than before—and then
the deep and ringing bay of a full mouthed
hound succeeded. Scarcely had the first
echo of the woods replied to the unwonted
sounds, before a beautiful, slight hind, forcing
her way through a dense thicket of
briers, dashed with the speed of mortal terror
into the centre of a small savannah,
through which stole almost silently a broad
bright rivulet of very limpid water. Pausing
delicate creature stood, with its swan-like
neck curved backward, its thin ear erect,
its full black eye dilated, and its expanded
nostrils snuffing the tainted breeze. It was
but for a second that she stood; for the next
moment a louder and more boisterous crash
arose from the direction whence she had
first appeared—the blended tongues of
several hounds running together on a hot
and recent trail. Tossing her head aloft,
she gathered her slight limbs under her,
sprung at one vigorous and elastic bound
over the rivulet, and was lost instantly to
view among the thickets of the further
side. A few minutes elapsed during which
the fierce baying of the hounds came quicker
and more sharply on the ear; and then,
from the same brake out of which the bind
had started, rushed, with his eyes glowing
lika coals of fire, his head high in the air,
and his long feathery tail lashing his tawny
sides, a formidable blood hound, of that savage
breed which was, in after times, so
brutally employed against the hapless Indians
by their Christian conquerors. Another,
and another, and a fourth succeeded,
making the vaulted woods to bellow with
the deep cadences of their continuous cry.
Hard on the blood hounds, crashing through
the tangled branches with reckless and impetuous
ardor, a solitary huntsman followed
splendidly mounted on a fiery Andalusian
charger, of a deep chestnut color, with four
white legs, and a white blaze down his
face, whose long thin mane, and the large
cord-like veins that might be seen meandering
over his muscular, sleek limbs, attested,
as surely as the longest pedigree,
the purity of his blood. The rider was a
young man of some four or five-and-twenty
years, well, and rather powerfully made
than otherwise, though not above the middle
stature; his long dark hair, black eye,
and swarthy skin told of a slight admixture
of the Moorish blood; while the expression
of his features, though now excited somewhat
by the exhilaration of the chase,
grave, dignified and noble, bespoke him
without a doubt a polished cavalier of
Spain. His dress, adapted to the occupation
which he so gallantly pursued, was a
green doublet belted close about his waist
by a girdle of Cordovan leather, from which
swung, clinking at every stride of his
horse, against the stirrup, a long and basket-hilted
bilboa blade, in a steel scabbard,
which was the only weapon that he wore,
except a short two-edged stiletto, thrust
into the belt at the left side. A broad
sombrero hat, with a drooping feather,
breeches and gloves of chamois leather,
laced down the seams with silver, and russet
buskins drawn up to the knee, completed
his attire. He sat his horse gracefully
and firmly; and the ease with which
he supported him, and wheeled him to and
fro among the fallen trees and rocks, notwithstanding
the fiery speed at which he
rode, bespoke him no less skillful than intrepid
as a horseman. The chase continued
for above an hour, during which
every species of scenery that the level portions
of the isle contained was traversed by
the hunter; the open forest, the dense
swampy brake, the wide luxuriant savannah—and
each at such hot speed, that
though he turned aside neither for bush,
nor bank, though he plunged headlong
down the steepest crags, and dashed his
charger, without hesitation, over every fallen
tree that barred his progress, and every
brook or gulley that opposed him, still it
was with no little difficulty that he contrived
to keep the hounds in hearing. And
now the hapless hind, worn out by the sustained
exertions which had at first outstripped
the utmost pace of her pursuers,
but which availed her nothing to escape
from foes against whose most sagacious instinct
and unerring scent she had but fleetness
to oppose—was sinking fast, and must,
as the rider judged by the redoubled speed
and shriller baying of his hounds, soon turn
to bay, or be run down without resistance.
Her graceful head was bowed low toward
the earth; big tears streamed down her
hairy cheeks; her arid tongue lolled from
her frothing jaws; her coat, of late so
sleek and glossy, was all embossed with
points than one by the sharp thorns and
prickly underwood through which she had
toiled so fruitlessly. Still she strove on,
staggering and panting in a manner pitiful
to witness, when the deep bay of the blood
hounds was changed suddenly into a series
of sharp and savage yells, as they caught
view of their destined prey.
Just at this moment the hind had reached
the verge of a piece of dense and tangled
woodland, through which she had toiled for
several miles, when the low range of hillocks
which it overspread sank suddenly
by a steep and craggy declivity of twelve
or fourteen feet, having at its base a rapid
stream, brawling and fretting over many a
rocky ledge, down to a wide and lovely
meadow. Situated nearly in the centre of
this flower-sprinkled lawn, half circled by
a deep bight of the streamlet, and perfectly
embowered by the canopy which a close
group of waving palms spread over it, there
stood an Indian dwelling. It was of larger
size than were most of the native cottages,
thatched neatly with the broad leaves of
the palm, and ornamented in front by a
portico of wooden columns, quaintly, and
not ungracefully adorned by carvings
wrought by the flint-edged chisel of the yet
unsophisticated savage. A mat, woven
with tasteful skill, from many-colored and
sweet-scented rushes, was spread upon the
floor; while several stools of ebony, inlaid
with shells, and sculptured with grotesque
devices, were ranged along the walls. On
a projecting slab, which apparently supplied
the want of a table, stood several gourds,
ingeniously manufactured into cups and
trenchers; some bowls of hard wood, even
more highly finished than the other articles
of furniture, and many ornaments of gold
and strings of pearl scattered in rich profusion,
lay among the humbler vessels of the
household. From three columns were suspended
large wicker cages, beautifully interlaced
with intricate and quaint devices,
containing paroquets and other birds of rare
and splendid plumage; while from the
others hung carved war-clubs of the pon
derous iron-wood, flint-headed javelins, and
several bows—not the short, ill-strung,
worthless weapons used by the Africans,
but long, tough, and admirably made, and
scarcely, if at all, inferior to the tremendous
long bow which had gained so much
renown, and wrought so much scathe to
their foes, in the hands of the English
archery. Under the shadow of the portico,
sheltered by it from the warm beams of the
sun, there sat an Indian youth, tall and
slightly framed, and not above sixteen or
seventeen years of age at the utmost, polishing
with a chisel the shaft of a long javelin.
On the lawn in front of the cottage a
bright fire was blazing, and several native
females were collected round it, preparing
their morning meal, with cakes of the cassava
baking among the hot wood-embers,
and fish broiling on small spits of aromatic
wood. But at a little distance to the left
of these, at the extreme end of the building,
nearest to the steep bank which terminated
the forest, outstretched in a light
grass hammock, which was suspended at
the height of two or three feet from the
ground, between two stately palm trees,
and swaying gently to and fro in the light
currents of the morning breeze, there lay
the loveliest girl eyes ever looked upon;
her rich black hair, braided above her brow,
and fastened with one string of pearls, was
passed behind her ears, whence it fell in
a profusion of glossy curls, so wondrously
luxuriant that had she stood erect, it would
have flowed quite downward to her ankles;
her eyes large, dark, and liquid as those of
a Syrian antelope, were curtained by the
longest and most silky lashes that ever
fringed a human eyelid; her features classically
regular and even, were redeemed
from the charge of inspidity by the sly
dimple at the angles of that exquisitely
arched and rosy mouth, which Aphrodite,
fresh from her ocean cradle, might have
envied; and by the voluptuous curve of the
soft chin. Her complexion was of a warm
and sunny hue—half brown and half golden
—through which the eloquent blood mantled
at every motion, like the last flush of sunset
however, as was the countenance, and enchanting
the expression of this Indian
beauty, it yet was not until the second or
third glance that the eye could stray from
the matchless symmetry, the untaught
graces, and the voluptuous and wavy motions
of her form, to notice the less striking
charms of face and features. Her beautiful
arms, bare to the shoulder, were adorned
with massy rings of virgin gold, so flexible,
from the purity of the metal, that they
were twisted and untwistod with as much
ease as though they had been silken cords;
the right hung over the edge of the hammock,
its small and graceful hand resting
upon a little stand or table at her side—
while the left, folded beneath her head, was
half veiled beneath her abundant hair. Her
dress, a single robe of soft, fine muslin, was
clasped on the right shoulder by a golden
stud, whence it passed under her left arm,
leaving her bosom half exposed, and was
girt around her slender waist by a cord of
gaily colored cotton, covering the rest of
her person down to the tiny feet—although
its slight folds clung so closely to the rich
contour of her limbs that not a single charm
but wooed the eye of the observer.
Such was the scene, and such the occupants
of it, into which, darting with a momentary
energy, that gained convulsive
strength from the near presence of her
dreaded foes, the hunted hind leaped suddenly.
The craggy bank and stream were
cleared by one tremendous bound, the level
lawn was traversed with speed that seemed
almost miraculous, yet scarce two spears'
length from her haunches the furious blood-hounds
followed. Whether it was that her
eyes were cast backward toward her dreaded
foes, and that every sense was engrossed
by agonizing terror, so that she marked not
anything before her, or whether a strange
instinct told her that no danger was to be
apprehended from that quarter, the shy,
timid creature dashed straight across the
meadow, passing within ten paces of the
fire—from the vicinity of which the women
fled, fearful of the savage hounds—and sank
down with a deep, heart-broken sob, close
to the hammock of the Indian beauty.
Roused suddenly from the half-dozing
dreamy languor in which she had been so
luxuriously indulging, the maiden started
from the couch, and, without thinking of
the peril, by an involuntary impulse stooped
down, and lifting up the head of the
dying hind, wiped away the foam from its
sobbing lips, and gazed with wistful pity
upon its glazing eyes. All this had passed
with almost the speed of light—for not ten
seconds had intervened between the first
appearance of the trembling fugitive and
the compassionate movement of the young
girl. It happened, too, as will oftentimes
occur, when hounds are running at the utmost
of their speed, the blood-hounds, since
they had viewed for the first time their
quarry, had given no tongue, chasing solely
by the eye—so that until his attention was
called to what was passing, by the flight of
the terrified and trembling menials, the
youth had remained quietly engaged at his
occupation, unconscious of the peril to which
his sister—for such was the relationship between
them—was exposed. Diverted, however,
from his occupation, by the tumultuous
flight of the girls, he looked up quickly,
and at a glance beheld the hind fall dying
at his sister's feet, the fierce hounds dashing
forward to glut their savage instinct in
the life-blood of the quarry; and the girl,
by her own act, thrown, as it were, into the
very jaws of the literally blood-thirsty
brutes—which, with hair erect and bristling,
as if instinct with sentient life and
fury, the white foam flying from their
tushes, and their eyes glaring with the
frantic light of their roused natures, were
bounding toward her, scarce three paces
distant.
At the same point of time the Spanish
cavalier, who had, while they were running
mute, lost the direction of the chase, made
his appearance at the top of the abrupt descent;
and seeing, as if by intuition, all
that was going on, lifted his blooded horse
hard with the Moorish bit, on which he
rode him, and pricking him at the same
the sheer fall of the ground, compelled him
to take the fearful leap. The horse sprung
nobly at it, and, aided by the great fall of
the surface, landed his hind feet well upon
the level ground beyond the rivulet; but
even then he would have fallen, such was
the shock of so steep a drop leap, had he
not been met by the quick support of a
master hand; so that, recovering himself
with a heavy flounder, he dashed on after
scarce a moment's pause. Still, had there
been no readier aid than his, the maiden
must have perished beneath the fangs of
the infuriate bloodhounds; for though the
hunter shouted in the loudest tones of his
clear, powerful voice, rating the dogs, and
calling them by name, their fierceness was
so thoroughly aroused that they paid not
the least regard to his commanding accents,
and probably would not have been restrained
had he been interposed himself between
them and the object of their stanch pursuit,
from springing on the master who had
fed them, and to whose slightest gesture,
under more favorable circumstances, they
were implicitly obedient. But as he saw
them already well nigh darting at her
throat, that stripling leaped upon his feet,
and snatching from the nearest pillar a bow
which fortunately happened to be strung,
and two long arrows, in less time than is
needed to describe it, notched a shaft on
the sinew, drew the tough bow-string to
his ear, and drove the whirring missile with
almost the speed of light toward the leading
dog.
It was not till the whistling shaft hurtled
close past her ear, that the maid was aware
of her own danger; for, engrossed by the
faint struggles and waning breath of the
poor deer, she had not raised her eyes, till
startled by the passing weapon; and now,
as she lifted them, and met the red glare
shot from the angry orbs of the foremost
hound, and almost felt the warmth of his
quick panting breath against her brow,
hope left her; and her senses yielding to
the sudden terror, she sank down upon the
body of the dead hind, as helpless and as
innocent. But even as light left her eyes,
the well aimed shaft reached its mark; directed
at the throat of the animal, it flew
correctly, and the keen flint-head, cutting
a little way below the ear, clove through
and through the neck, piercing the jugular
vein. The blood gushed in a torrent from
the wound; nor from that only, but from
the throat and nostsils, likewise; and, with
one savage yell he leaped into the air, and
fell quite dead within a yard of the Indian
girl, whose snow-white dress was actually
sprinkled with large gouts of the crimson
gore. Still she was far from safe; for, unchecked
and undaunted by their leader's
death, the others of the little pack, baying
tremendously, were close at hand.
Again the bow was raised, and the string
drawn to the utmost, but with a jerking
and irregular tension, which snapped the
tendon of which it was framed! With a
sharp twang the bow recoiled, and the shaft
fell harmless, close at the archer's feet;
but, unarmed as he was, he bounded forward,
and grasping the staff of the unstrung
and useless bow, he gallantly bestrode the
body of the damsel, and with a calm and
resolute expression in his clear eye and
comely features, awaited fearlessly the onset
of the approaching savages. And now
the first was close upon him, and with his
bristles all erect, like quills upon the porcupine,
and a deep stified growl, dashed at
his face. Still he blenched not, but made
a desperate lunge with the tough horn tipped
bow, full at the open mouth and yawning
throat of his assailant. And well for
him it was that his eye was true, and his
hand steady, for nothing else could have
availed, even though now the cavalier was
within three strides of the spot, to save his
life. The thrust took effect, and though the
weapon was but ineffective, and the beast
not materially affected by the blow, it still
had force enough to check, in some degree,
the violence of his assault, and to hinder
him from using his fangs for a moment.
Yet, notwithstanding, such was the weight
of his sinewy lythe body, and such the terrible
impetuosity of his attack, that checked
violently against the breast of his young
antagonist, that he dashed him to the
ground; and, himself falling, they rolled
over and over, with a stern grapple and
fierce cries, on the ensanguined greensward.
But at this critical moment a new
and more important aider came up in the
young Spaniard; who, dashing his spurs
into the flanks of his Ahdalusian, with his
long two-edged sword unsheathed, and
brandished in the air, as he stood upright
in his stirrups, purposely galloped over one
of the hounds, sending it cowed and howling
to a respectful distance, then pulling
up his horse close to the confused group,
well knowing the tremendous fury of the
animal with which he had to deal, when it
was thoroughly aroused, he smote the other
which was struggling with the boy, and
which had just got free from his gripe, exactly
at the junction of the neck and skull.
So true and steady was the blow, and so
keen was the temper of that thin two-edged
blade, that it shore right through
muscle, bone and sinew, severing entirely
the head, except where a small portion of
the skin remained uninjured, at the farther
side. This done he hastily dismounted,
and striking the fourth and last dog a heavy
blow with the flat of his sword, rating him
at the same moment, by his name, succeeded
in asserting his ascendancy over
his crest-fallen vassal. The boy had, in
the mean time, risen from the ground, still
grasping in his hand the bow, which during
all the progress of that tremendous struggle,
he had never let go—and gazed, half
doubtful of the stranger's purpose, into his
eyes—till re-assured by the grave smile
which played upon the features of the
Spaniard, and by perceiving how effectual
had been his aid, when earthly aid seemed
hopeless; he suffered the tense muscles of
his dark visage to relax, and stretching out
his hand to his preserver, uttered a few
words in the Spanish language, not strictly
true in the pronunciation, but in a voice of
most melodious richness, thanking him for
his timely aid.
But little heed did the young gallant pay
to his addresses, for he had thrown aside
his blood-stained weapon, and raising the
slight body of the maiden from the earth,
for she had not as yet recovered from her
fainting fit, bore her as easily as though
she had been but a feather's weight, with
her head leaning upon his shoulder, and her
long tresses flowing in dark luxuriance
over his arms, into the sheltered portico.
Placing her on one of the low cotton cushioned
stools, and supporting her against his
breast, he called aloud in the Indian tongue,
which he spoke fluently and well, for water;
and having sprinkled her lovely face, and
set about restoring her with a degree of
eagerness that savored not a little of the
gallantry of knightly courtship. Nor was
it long before his efforts were crowned with
complete success; for in a moment or two
the fringed lashes partially arose, revealing
the dark eyes, still swimming in unconscious
languor. Dazzled by the full light,
she once again suffered the lids to fall, and
remained for a few moments perfectly passive
in his arms; although he felt, by the
increased pulsation of her heart, which
throbbed almost against his own, that life
and sense were speedily returning. Again
she raised her eyes, and gazed for an instant
with an air of simple wonderment
into his face; then, while the warm blood
rushed back in a crimson flush to the pale
features, she attempted to start from the
half embrace in which he held her.
“Fear nothing, gentle one,” he said, in
her own liquid tongue, with a calm placid
smile, which did more to reassure her than
the words which fell half unheard on her
ear, yet confused and giddy.
“Fear nothing, gentle one, from me.
Not for the wealth of the whole Indies—
not to be monarch of Castile, would I work
aught of harm to thee or thine!”
While he was speaking her eye wandered
from his face, and falling on the blood-stained
group, which lay confusedly piled
on each other—the lifeless limbs of the
dead hind and fierce hounds, one transfixed
by the unerring arrow of the brother, the
lay beside them on the turf—the panting
charger, which stood, although unfastened,
in the cool shade of the palm trees; and
the two dogs which had survived their
fellows crouched humbly on the grass
before the portice, their tongues lolling
from their jaws, their sides panting from
their late exertion, and their eyes closed
listlessly. She saw the truth intuitively,
and, with a quiet smile, sank back again
upon his breast, unable yet to rise, and lay
there until her brother had brought forth
the females of the household to attend her.
Leaning on these, the fair girl left them,
with the gesture of farewell as dignified,
yet easy, as though she had been the lineal
scion of a hundred European monarchs.
She was not absent long, however, for she
had returned ere the Spaniard learned from
his host, while he was busily employed in
wiping and returning to its seabbard his
trusty rapier, in picketing his charger, and
securing his two hounds—that the girl
whom he had so bravely rescued from a
terrible and painful death, was in good
truth of royal birth—a Caribbean princess
—the niece of that peerless queen Anacaona,
who though the sister of that most
dauntless foeman of the white invaders, the
valiant Caonabo, lord of the Golden House,
had proved herself from first to last the
friend and patroness of the pale stranger;
who, in after days, returned her kindness
with ingratitude so base and barbarous.
In a short time, then, the Guarica returned,
and thanking her preserver with the
most feminine and easy grace, pressed him
to stay and share their morning meal; and
he, half captivated at the first by her artless
beauty, assented willingly—and lingered
there, enchanting the simple mind of the
Indian beauty by all the rich stores of his
cultivated intellect; and listening, in turn,
to the sweet native ballads which she sang
to him, in her rich melodious tongue, not
rill the morning meal alone was ended, but
through the heat of the high noon, and even
till the dewy twilight; and when he said
adieu, a tear swam in the dark eye of the
maiden, and her small hand trembled in
his grasp; and he rode pensively away beneath
the broad light of a moon, a thousand
times more pure and brilliant than that
which silvers the skies of his own bright
land, bearing along with him, far in his
heart of hearts, deep thoughts and high
warm feelings, blended with doubts and
cares, and the engrossing impulses of interest
conflicting with the wilder passions of
a hot and impetuous nature. Nor did he
leave behind him, in the breast of the young
Guarica, sentiments less novel, or feelings
less tumultuous. Truly, to them, that day
was the hinge whereon the doors revolved
of future happiness or misery! For, from
that day, each dated a new life, fraught
with new wishes, and regulated by new
destinies—and to each was it the harbinger
of many strange adventures, of many joys
and many sorrows! and, whether for evil
or for good, or of their doom here, and it
may be, hereafter.
| CHAPTER I. Guarica, the charib bride | |