I wonder what puts such nonsense into my head? But come! You forget that I havent tasted food since morning. What have you got?
Theres only the cold venison and the corn-bread. If you like Ill put the venison in the pot.
Yes, do so. I can wait.
Phelim was about stepping outside, when a growl from Tara, accompanied by a start, and followed by a rush across the floor, caused the servitor to approach the door with a certain degree of caution.
The individual, who had thus freely presented himself in front of the mustangers cabin, was as unlike either of its occupants, as one from the other.
He stood fall six feet high, in a pair of tall boots, fabricated out of tanned alligator skin. A deerskin undershirt, without any other, covered his breast and shoulders; over which was a blanket coat, that had once been green. He was equipped in the style of a backwoods hunter. There was no embroidery upon his coarse clothing. Everything was plain almost to rudeness.
The individual was apparently about fifty years of age, with a complexion inclining to dark, and features that, at first sight, exhibited a grave aspect.
It was Zebulon Stump, or Old Zeb Stump, as he was better known to the very limited circle of his acquaintances.
Kentuckian, by birth and raising,as he would have described himself, if asked the country of his nativity. The hunter had passed the early part of his life among the forests of the Lower Mississippi; and now, at a later period, he was living and hunting in the wilds of south-western Texas.
The behaviour of the staghound told of a friendly acquaintance between Zeb Stump and Maurice the mustanger.
Evening! laconically saluted Zeb.
Good evening, Mr Stump! rejoined the owner of the hut, rising to receive him. Step inside, and take a seat! On foot, Mr Stump, as usual?
No: I got my old creature out there, tied to a tree.
Let Phelim take her round to the shed. Youll have something to eat? Phelim was just getting supper ready. Im sorry I cant offer you anything very dainty. Ive been so occupied, for the last three days, in chasing a very curious mustang, that I never thought of taking my gun with me.
What sort of a mustang? inquired the hunter.
A mare; with white spots on a dark chocolate ground a splendid creature!
Thats the very business thats brought me over to you. Ive seen that mustang several times out on the prairie, and I just wanted you to go after her. Ill tell you why. Ive been to the Leona settlements since I saw you last, and since I saw her too. Well, there has come a man that I knew on the Mississippi. He is a rich planter, his name is Poindexter.
Poindexter?
That is the name one of the best known on the Mississippi from Orleans to Saint Louis. He was rich then; and, I reckon, isnt poor now seeing as hes brought about a hundred niggers along with him. Beside, theres his nephew, by name Calhoun. Hes got the dollars, and nothing to do with them but lend them to his uncle the which, for a certain reason, I think he will. Now, young fellow, Ill tell you why I wanted to see you. That planter has got a daughter, shes fond of horses. She heard me telling her father about the spotted mustang; and nothing would content her there and then, till he promised hed offer a big price for catching the creature. He said hed give a couple of hundred dollars for the animal. So, saying nothing to nobody, I came over here, fast as my old mare could fetch me.
Will you step this way, Mr Stump? said the young Irishman, rising from his stool, and proceeding in the direction of the door.
The hunter followed, not without showing some surprise at the abrupt invitation.
Maurice conducted his visitor round to the rear of the cabin; and, pointing into the shed, inquired
Does that look anything like the mustang youve been speaking of?
Dog-gone my cats, if its not the same! Caught already! Two hundred dollars! Young fellow, youre in luck: two hundred, and the animals worth every cent of the money! Wont Miss Poindexter be pleased!
1) How does Maurices dwelling characterize its owner? Describe it.
2) Who is Phelim?
3) Who is Maurices new captive?
4) Why was Maurice unable to obtain repose? What did he talk about in his dreams?
5) Who is Zeb Stump? What did he come for?
Chapter Four
The estate, or hacienda,[19] known as Casa del Corvo, extends along the wooded bottom of the Leona River. A structure of superior size whose white walls show conspicuously against the green background of forest with which it is half encircled. It is the newly acquired estate of the Louisiana planter and his family.
Louise Poindexter flung herself into a chair in front of her dressing-glass, and directed her maid Florinda to prepare her for the reception of guests. It was the day fixed for the house-warming,[20] and about an hour before the time appointed for dinner to be on the table.
Soon they loud voices were heard in the courtyard.
Oh, Mr Zebulon Stump, is it you? exclaimed a silvery voice, followed by the appearance of Louise Poindexter upon the verandah.
I didnt expect to see you so soon, continued the young lady, you said you were going upon a long journey. Well I am pleased that you are here; and so will papa and Henry be. Pluto! go instantly to Chloe, the cook, and see what she can give you for Mr Stumps dinner.
Zeb told Louise that he had come to talk to her father about the spotted mustang that hed promised to purchase for her. She asked who caught it, and the hunter told her it was a mustanger.
His name?
Well, as to the name of his family, Ive never heard it. Hes known up there about the Fort as Maurice the mustanger.
The old hunter was not sufficiently observant to take note of the tone of eager interest in which the question had been asked, nor the sudden deepening of colour upon the cheeks of the questioner as she heard the answer. Neither had escaped the observation of Florinda.
Miss Looey! exclaimed the latter, thats the name of the brave young white gentleman that saved us in the black prairie?
Yes! resumed the hunter, relieving the young lady from the necessity of making reply. He told me of that circumstance this very morning, before we started. Thats the very fellow as has trapped the spotty; and he is trotting the creature along at this identical minute, in company with about a dozen others. He ought to be here before sundown. I pushed my old mare ahead, to tell your father the spotty was coming, and let him get the first chance of buying. I thought of you, Miss Louise!
Lightly did Louise Poindexter trip back across the corridor. Only after entering her chamber, did she give way to a reflection of a more serious character, that found expression in words low murmured, but full of mystic meaning
It is my destiny: I feel I know that it is! I dare not meet, and yet I cannot shun it I may not I would not I will not!
On that same evening, after the dining-hall had been deserted, the roof, instead of the drawing-room, was chosen as the place of re-assemblage.
The company now collected to welcome the advent of Woodley Poindexter on his Texan estate, were the elite of the Settlements not only of the Leona, but of others more distant.
His lovely daughter Louise the fame of whose beauty had been before her, even in Texas acted as mistress of the ceremonies moving about among the admiring guests with the smile of a queen, and the grace of a goddess.
To say that Louise Poindexter was beautiful would only be to repeat the universal verdict of the society that surrounded her. A single glance was sufficient to satisfy any one upon this point strangers as well as acquaintances.
She was the cynosure of a hundred pairs of eyes, the happiness of a score of hearts, and perhaps the torture of as many more.
But mingling in that splendid crowd was a man who, perhaps, more than any one present, watched her every movement; and endeavoured more than any other to interpret its meaning. It was Cassius Calhoun.
At intervals, not very wide apart, the young mistress might have been seen to approach the parapet, and look across the plain, with a glance that seemed to interrogate the horizon of the sky.
Why she did so no one could tell. No one presumed to conjecture, except Cassius Calhoun. He had thoughts upon the subject thoughts that were torturing him.
When a group of moving forms appeared upon the prairie, emerging from the light of the setting sun when the spectators pronounced it a drove of horses in charge of some mounted men the ex-officer of volunteers had a suspicion as to who was conducting that cavalcade.
Wild horses! announced the major commandant of Fort Inge, after a short inspection through his pocket telescope. Some one bringing them in, he added, a second time raising the glass to his eye. Oh! I see now its Maurice the mustanger. He appears to be coming direct to your place, Mr Poindexter.
I am sure of it, said the planters son. I can tell that horseman to be Maurice Gerald.
The cavalcade came up, Maurice sitting handsomely on his horse, with the spotted mare at the end of his lazo. The mustanger looked splendid, despite his travel-stained habiliments. His journey of over twenty miles had done little to fatigue him.
What a beautiful creature! exclaimed several voices, as the captured mustang was led up in front of the house.
Surely, said Poindexter, this must be the animal of which old Zeb Stump has been telling me?
Ye-es, Mister Poindexter; the identical creature a mare, answered Zeb Stump, making his way towards Maurice with the design of assisting him.
I shall owe you two hundred dollars for this, said the planter, addressing himself to Maurice, and pointing to the spotted mare. I think that was the sum stipulated for by Mr Stump.
I was not a party to the stipulation, replied the mustanger, with a significant but well-intentioned smile. I cannot take your money. She is not for sale. You have given me such a generous price for my other captives that I can afford to make a present what we over in Ireland call a `luckpenny. It is our custom there also, when a horse-trade takes place at the house, to give the douceur, not to the purchaser himself, but to one of the fair members of his family. May I have your permission to introduce this fashion into the settlements of Texas?