Carmio: the little Mexican-Indian captive

Contents

I. Captured 5

II. The Escape 19

III. DANGER 33

II

HE Indians traveled rapidly all the rest of that afternoon and into the night. Then, coming to a wooded place, where a small stream ran, they stopped and prepared to camp.

Carmio and Hermando were so tired from the long, rough ride on the bare backs of the ponies, and so cut and hurt by the tight cords that bound them, that they could hardly stand when lifted from the ponies. Indeed, after making a great effort to stand, Carmio fell.

“ Get up! ” said one of the Indians, giving him a savage kick.

He tried to obey, found himself more unsteady upon his feet than ever, clutched at Hermando to save himself, and this time both wert over together. They were jerked to their feet, and again kicked.

The Indians now unloosed the cords that bound their hands and partly so those that bound their feet. Then they made them crawl about and gather twigs with which to build the fire.

The supper was cooked and eaten. Only a small amount was given to the two young captives. But small as it was, it was more than they could eat, for their hearts were so full of the pain and the terror of what had happened to them that it made the sobs almost choke them.

The Indians heaped up the brush and leaves for beds, and, placing two on guard, prepared to go to sleep for the night. They formed a circle about the fire, Carmio and Hermando being placed within the circle. Soon all were asleep except the two on guard and the little captives. Carmio lay upon his back, watching the stars as they twinkled through the boughs of the trees. Now and then he could not see them at all for the blinding tears that filled his eyes.

Somewhere up there Carmio knew there was a great Being whose name was God. Carmio had been taught to pray to him through the Virgin, who was the mother of his son, Jesus, and had been taught that this great God could do many things if only the Virgin or one of the saints would beseech him in the name of the one who prayed. There was the good Saint Anthony ; he was the saint of little children. He had played with the child Jesus and helped to carry his playthings, therefore he loved all children and would help them when in trouble.

“ Oh, dear, good Virgin, sweet Mother of Jesus, and dear good Saint Anthony/' prayed poor little Carmio out of the fullness of his sorrow, ‘‘do hear, do pity, and do save poor Carmio and Hermando ! 0 Virgin, forgive that I dis-

obeyed my own precious mother. If I had only thought of thee and of her and of how it would have wounded both, I would not have done it ! I would not, I would not ! ’ *

After a while he heard Hermando call to him softly :

“ Art thou asleep, Carmio ? ”

“ No,” replied Carmio in the same low tones.

“ Pay close heed, then, to what I will tell thee. We must try to escape, for I would rather die than go away with these Indians. All are asleep. I have looked about closely, and I am sure. Even the two who were put to watch are nodding. They will soon be gone into sound slumber. When they are, then we must creep away.”

“ But how can we with our feet and hands bound as they are ? ' *

‘‘Hist! Bend thine ear closer. The Indian who tied my hands the last time did not do it well. I have slipped the cords, and my hands are now free. Hast thou a knife, Carmio ? ”

“Yes, a little knife my brother gave me. It is in my pocket.' *

“ Which pocket ? "

Carmio told him.

“Well, turn as I tell thee and I will get it out. Hist! be careful; the two Indians on guard are not yet well asleep."

Carmio turned nearer Hermando, so that he could run his hand into his pocket and draw out the knife. Though small it was sharp, and Hermando soon had not only his own bonds cut but Carmio 's also. They were free now as to hand and foot, but how were they to get away with so many of the Indians all around them ? Even if they got without the circle safely, might not some noise, however careful they might be, betray them ? The ground was full of dried twigs, any one of which was likely to snap if stepped upon. It was dark too, under the trees, and they could not pick their way as carefully as in the light.

But Hermando was bound to escape, never mind how great the risk, for, as he said, he would rather die than be carried away a captive by these Indians. As his was the stronger nature, it led Carmio's.

“ The two have at last fallen into sound sleep,” whispered Hermando. “ Now, Carmio ! Let us get on our hands and knees and creep away. There is room between those Indians yonder. For thy life do not make a sound ! ”

They crept away softly, and passed the line of sleeping Indians. They were now outside the circle.

“ We can get on our feet,” said Hermando. “It is now the twigs I fear. Look for them closely, Carmio.”

They were not more than twenty paces from the camp, when all of a sudden Hermando' s foot came upon a dry icross a little hollow, and it gave way with a loud snap.

do,

“Run,” said Hermand, “or we are lost ! ”

Carmio started, but it was too late ! Three of the Indians were aroused, the two that were on guard and one of the sleeping circle. They saw at once what had happened, and sprang up to follow.

“ Stop! ” called one of the Indians.

Carmio obeyed, and in this way his life was saved. But not so Hermando. He kept on, rushing away as fast as his strong young legs would carry him. He had said, “ Better death than captivity/ * and he had meant it.

On went Hermando, but alas ! those legs, once strong and swift, had been weakened by the binding, and they could not carry him now with their usual vigor. It was dark too, in the woods, and he could not see just the best way to go. Suddenly he fell, stumbled in a hollow, and went rolling over and over. Before he could get up again one of the Indians was beside him. Very angry, the man drew his lance and in a moment more poor Hermando was dead.

The body was brought back to camp on the point of the Indian’s lance, and laid down with a meaning gesture directly in front of Carmio. He almost fainted when he saw it. Oh, what a terrible end for poor Hermando ! They then took Hermando’s body and threw it out on the prairies for the wolves and buzzards to eat.

This was more than poor Carmio could endure. He begged them to bury Hermando, to give him even a shallow grave in the sand. They refused him and with threats. But at last one of the Indians, who seemed to have a kinder heart than the others, said that Hermando might be buried, but that Carmio must bury him. This Carmio was very ready to do; so they unbound him that he might dig the grave. He scooped it out of the sand with a piece of wood and with his hands, and all the time the Indians were standing over him and taunting him in various ways. It was at last dug, and Carmio 's hands laid Hermando in his lonely grave on the far-away prairies. Then the sand was thrown in and rocks piled about the place.

“ Oh, if I ever get home,” said Carmio to himself sadly as he turned away from the grave, “ I will beg Father Rodrigo to say a mass for poor Hermando.’ ’

Yes, if he ever got home again! Would he ? The chances seemed so against it now that even the thought sickened poor Carmio’s heart.

At sunrise the next morning the Indians had broken camp, and were again on their way, keeping the heads of their ponies turned almost northward.

Carmio now rode between two of the Indians. He was more closely bound than ever; only at camping times were his bonds loosened, and then only that he might bring the wood and water and make the fires.

As they went onward Carmio noticed something that caused a ray of sudden hope to go to his heart. For he was thinking all the time about making his escape from the Indians. Hermando’s death had left him sadder and lonelier than ever, and he felt, as poor Hermando had, that he would rather die than go on with these Indians. He had thought for some time that one of the captured ponies looked as though he had seen it before, and now he was sure that he did know the pony. It was Pedro, a pony his brother had owned. Indeed, he had sold it only a few days before to a near ranchman. It had perhaps been left out to graze, and thus the Indians had found it.

Carmio knew Pedro to be a fast pony, one of the fastest in all that part of the country. Once on Pedro’s back and flying southward like the wind, it would give the Indians a task to catch him if they ever did. Another hope was that he felt sure Pedro would know the way, for he was a bright pony as well as a fast one.

When they halted for dinner that day

Carmio managed to give Pedro a gentle pat and a soft word. The pony at once knew him, for he whisked his head and answered with a glad neigh. Carmio would have made the effort to escape then, but it was not the time he wanted. He would wait for the dusk.

At evening they stopped again to camp for the night. The place was not so thickly wooded as before. It was a mere strip of trees, and beyond it were the prairies, the tall grasses swaying gently in the wind.

They unbound Carmio’s hands and feet and sent him to gather fuel. In the meantime they staked the ponies, placing them some little way off on the prairie.

Carmio had brought one turn of fuel and was going for another. Feeling sure that Hermando’s fate had cowed him enough so that he would not try to escape, the Indians were not so careful in watching him.

Carmio started for the fuel, keeping

3 2 one eye upon the camp and the other upon the ponies. He went out of his way to one side and suddenly, instead of going deeper into the woods, turned toward the prairie where the ponies were grazing. He gained the group of ponies and passed in between them and was thus screened. With a running bound he reached the stake to which Pedro was fastened, threw into the effort all the strength of his young arms and jerked it from the earth. Then, keeping the stake in his hands and gathering in the rope, he sprang upon Pedro’s back with a word of endearment and the command to go. The pony needed no second bidding. The next moment they had begun their race for life headed for the south. But not before the dread Comanche warwhoop, coming from the camp, broke upon the air.

HI

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T T took the Comanches some time to gain their ponies, unfasten them, and mount. By this time Carmio was nearly the third of a mile ahead, and rushing onward like the wind. The long journey of the day had tired Pedro ; but as for that all the ponies had had a share in it. It was in Pedro’s favor

That he had not carried any heavy burden during the march. The way he was speeding along now, he did not seem to be tired at all. Doubtless Pedro felt, as did his little rider, that the joy of freedom, perhaps of life, depended upon his efforts.

Carmio feared the long piece of rope and the stake to which Pedro had been tied, and which he had gathered in his hands as he sprang to the pony’s back.

If he should drop it, then it might become tangled in Pedro’s feet, tripping him, and thus cause great mischief. He determined to get rid of it if he could. Bending down, and clinging more closely to the pony, he managed to unfasten it from about Pedro’s neck. Straightening up again, he gathered stake and rope more carefully in his hand, and threw it from him, as far from the course the pony was taking as he could. He now had neither saddle nor bridle, but Carmio, for a little fellow, was a fearless rider. Besides he trusted Pedro. The pony would need no guidance, for he knew the way. Carmio felt he need only cling to his mane, keep a firm seat, and trust to Pedro.

He could hear the yells and shouts of the Indians as they came on behind him. Once he looked back. They were sending their arrows after him, but so far none had reached him. The course taken by the pony was almost parallel with the strip of woods. Soon they came to a jutting point, or rather a bend of the forest. Around this the pony rushed, heading due southwest. By this movement the Indians were for a time shut off from view. But alas ! in that time something happened to Carmio which might bring upon him not only capture, but also death, for poor Hermando’s fate had told him that one meant the other.

It must have been a hollow in the prairie ; at any rate Pedro rushing onward, suddenly stumbled, and with such force that Carmio went spinning over his head and into a sand hillock. Now, had Pedro been less excited over the race for liberty, he might have stopped for Carmio to get on his back again. But alas ! Pedro was only a pony, and so couldn’t think as a human helper would have done. He knew he was being chased, and the wish to escape was the first thing with Pedro. Thus, getting on his feet, he went speeding on and on, leaving poor Carmio lying in the sand hillock.

For a second or so Carmio was too stunned to rise. His hands and face too were scratched and bleeding, for he had fallen near the outer edge of a bed of cactuses. As he realized his danger he made haste to get upon his feet. Already he could hear the shouts and cries of the Indians as they neared the point. Once around it there would be no hope for him. He must escape while he could. There was no chance to reach Pedro, for the pony was now almost out of hearing. Even if he could hear a call, and obeying it return, it would be too late. The Indians would be there. Carmio must fly to the woods and hide himself until the Indians passed. They would see the pony and think that Carmio was still upon Pedro's back, for they would know nothing of the fall if he could get out of sight.

The woods were near, not more than fifteen or twenty paces. It was now dusk, and the shadows had gathered.

There was a moon, but it was only faintly shining from among the trees. Objects at a distance could not be seen clearly. With all his strength Carmio turned and ran toward the woods. He had barely time to crouch down behind a tree, when the Indians came speeding around the bend. Seeing the pony still flying along in the distance, they urged their own ponies to greater speed, and set off with renewed shouts.

As soon as they had passed out of sight, Carmio started to make his escape more sure by going farther into the woods. He had just moved away when he thought he heard a shout. Could it be that the Indians had seen he was not on Pedro's back, and were coming back ? The thought aroused Carmio so that he began to run like a frightened deer into the woods, taking little care as to where he placed his feet. He was running in this headlong way, when all at once he felt his feet slip from under him, and down he went, rolling over and over, till there was a sudden, sharp shock, and then Carmio knew no more for some minutes. When he came to himself he was lying on a bed of leaves, seemingly midway between the top and bottom of a ravine, and not far away he could hear the sound of falling water. He raised himself, and soon found that, except for a few sore places, he was all right. He did not know what better to do than to stay where he was until morning.

There was a hollow in the side of the bank near where he lay. He drew the leaves into this until he had a great bed of them. In this he cuddled down snugly, pulling the leaves up about him, and slept soundly until morning.

The sun was shining into the ravine when he woke. The gorge seemed to be about thirty feet deep and ten or twelve wide. Carmio, as has been said, had fallen only about half-way, a projecting ledge having caught him. He scrambled down and found his way to the water he had heard during the night, for he was very thirsty. It was a tiny stream that trickled through the rocks and fell into a mossy pool below. All about it grew ferns and wild flowers, and it was such a beautiful place that for the moment Carmio forgot all his troubles in delight.

He knelt down beside the tiny basin and drank, then bathed his face and hands. He was very hungry ; what could he find to eat ? He looked about. There were no berries or nuts. At last he found a tree, but the squirrels had been there before him.

While he was looking about a saucy gray squirrel, with his plume curled over his back, came and sat on a rock almost beside him. Carmio’ s hand went to a stone that lay near by. He knew that he could easily kill the little animal, for though Carmio was small, he had a sure hand in throwing. His fingers closed about the rock, then he let it slip away again.

“No,” he said; “no, I will not kill thee. Life is sweet to thee as to me. God made thee as well as me. Keep then the life he gave ; I know how dreadful death can be.”

Tears were in his eyes as he turned away from the squirrel. He would find something to eat, but it would be nothing that had life in it and that he must kill.

All at once a daring resolve came to him. He was pressed by hunger or he never would have thought of it even for a moment. He would return to the camp where the Indians had been and get food. He knew they had plenty which they had left when they started to chase him. It never once came to him that all the Indians might not have left the camp, that some would stay to care for the things. But before Carmio had walked many steps he took a second thought. To this he owed his life. It was that before he started toward the camp he would creep near the edge of the forest and take a look out upon the plains. He climbed up into the thick branches of a tree and glanced out over the prairie. The tree grew almost at the edge of the forest. Carmio had not more than settled himself and raised his eyes for the look out, when he saw a sight that made his heart beat so that it almost choked him. In. plain view was a band of Indians. They were mounted and were riding straight toward him, though they seemed to be riding slowly.

Carmio’ s first impulse was to jump down and run back into the forest; but he was afraid he would be seen. By the time he could scramble from the tree and spring to the ground he was sure he would be seen. So he crouched still farther within the limbs and waited.

On came the Indians. As they drew nearer Carmio saw with increased fear that they were the Indians who had chased him. They had plainly given up the chase, either because they had failed to overtake Pedro, or because they had found out that Carmio was no longer upon the pony's back. Carmio was afraid it was the latter by the suspicious way they glanced at the forest as they came near. Would they spy him in the tree? It looked very much like it, for as they came near two of the Indians left the others and rode toward the forest. Carmio could hear his heart beat. Surely the Indians would hear it too. It seemed to him, in the great fright that held him, that they must even hear him breathe.

But surely God was helping poor Carmio, for, having given a sweeping glance through the forest, the two Indians rode on to rejoin the others. It may have been they were not looking for Carmio after all, but for some chance game that might be in the woods. However, just as Carmio thought himself the safer, it seemed that greater danger than ever was at hand.

The two Indians had not more than reached their company, and all were unpleasantly near, when Carmio, in trying to ease his cramped position, lost his hold upon a limb, and with a noise that he felt sure was louder than the crash of the whole tree in falling, plunged to the branches below, clinging there for dear life. At the same moment there came ringing out the loud shout of the Comanches.

“I am lost!” moaned Carmio. “0 sweet Virgin, dear Mother of God, let me die ere they seize me.”

Ah, if Carmio had only known then how to pray direct to God.

IV

ARM 10 waited in terrible suspense, his head bent down, his eyes upon the ground. He dared not raise them; he could not. The sight would be too dreadful to endure. Every moment he thought he would feel those savage hands close about him and drag him from the tree. Their awful shouts of triumph would soon be in his ears. But he would not have to listen to them long. In a moment or so all would be over. They would make quick work of him as they had of poor Hermando.

But hark ! what did those sounds mean? For instead of coming nearer, the cries, the shouts, were going farther and farther away. With his heart almost standing still, Carmio raised his eyes. Could he believe them? Two deer had bounded from the woods, and the Indians were now in hot chase straight across the prairie. It had then been game, after all, for which the two Indians were looking when they rode so near the strip of forest, and the deer had bounded out just in time to draw their attention from Carmio as he fell.

' He waited until the Indians were too far away to notice him, even if they had turned to look back, then he scrambled down from the tree and again went deeper into the forest.

But soon he knew this would not do. If he were ever to find his way home, as he longed with all his heart to do, then he must leave the forest and go over the prairies. There was no other course. He could go for only about a half-mile or so by way of the forest.

When he had come to the farthest edge of the woods, he hid behind a tree and gazed long and carefully out over the plains. No living thing was in sight.

He did not see even an animal moving about. Still he lingered; still his heart failed him. In the forest there was some protection, some chance of hiding, but out on the prairies there was neither. But if he stayed in the forest he would never reach his home. If that sweet time was to come to him he must go forward.

His hunger, which fright had made him forget for the time, had now increased so much that he could hardly endure it. Before leaving the woods he would search for some berries at least. After much looking he found a tree with some nuts. He cracked a handful between the stones and ate them ; then he filled his pockets.

He now turned his face toward the prairies. At this place the grass was very tall. It came nearly to his waist. He found some trouble in making his way through it; but he knew this was not nearly so bad as the stretches of cactus to which he would come after a while.

CAR M 10

Soon the sun began to grow unpleasantly warm. It made Carmio feel faint and sick. The thirst too, came back, but alas ! there was now no sweet trickling stream at hand to give a drink. He toiled on almost ready to drop. Not a tree or a bush could he see anywhere, only bare plains with here and there a clump of sharp cactus. He was indeed thankful these were not nearer together, for then he would have had a bad time getting through them.

After a while, when he had almost given up in despair and felt that he must fall by the way, he came to a great patch of wild sunflowers, such as now and then may be seen on the prairies of the West. Some of the stalks were as large as a man's wrist. They gave a deep shade, into which poor little Carmio sank with ft a moan, he was so tired, as well as with a feeling of the deepest thankfulness. He was so weak, so weary, ; “n he lay there for the rest of the day scarcely moving. He now decided he would do most of his traveling by night. There would be less chance of his being seen by Indians.

When the moon came up he started again. He had not gone more than two or three miles when a new, an awful danger faced him. Over the prairies, and charging down toward him, he saw a herd of wild cattle. His first impulse was to turn and flee, but that, he knew a moment afterward, would be almost like inviting death, for should the cattle see him they would be sure to chase him.

The cattle were not far away now , and still rushing toward him. He tried to get out of their way as much as possible, but it was hard to tell now just which way they would come. Any little thing might cause them to swerve from the direction in which they seemed to be coming.

A sudden thought struck Carmio. It was like a flash of inspiration. In his pocket was a box of the little wax matches he had brought from his Mexican home. He would tear off a piece of his straw hat, set it afire, and with it fire the grass in front of the cattle. The wind was blowing that way and it would carry the fire toward them.

The first match went out, and so did the second. His hand trembled so that he could scarcely hold the third. There was not a moment to lose. The cattle were now so near the tramp of their feet shook the earth where he stood. The match flared up, flickered, flared up again, and then held a steady flame. The dry bit of straw caught well, and soon the grass was afire. It swept toward the cattle, growing brighter and bigger. There was a sudden mighty bellowing, cries of almost human terror, then with a swiftness and skill that would have done credit to a body of cavalrymen, the herd of cattle swerved sharply to the right and thus passed around the circle^ of fire and Carmio.

Yes, Carmio was saved; but was there not a new danger ? He stood watching the fire. Every moment it seemed to grow brighter and bigger and fiercer.

“Oh, what mischief have I done?” he cried. “ Have I set the whole prairie on fire ? If so, then I may never see my home, for the wind may change, and it may sweep back this way and seize me. And to think too, of the poor creatures that may burn ! ’ '

This last thought was so dreadful to Carmio that he dropped his head upon his hands and gave way to tears. When at last he raised his eyes, he saw that the fire was burning itself out. It had met with something that refused to feed it. When at length the ground grew cool enough for him to go on, he saw that it was a water hole. Had Carmio been older and with more knowledge of the desert, he would have known from the signs that there was one not far away.