Le lion du désert: Scènes de la vie indienne dans les prairies

On a waning March evening in 1855, the once‑thriving pueblo of Santa Fe spreads across a sun‑kissed plain, its stone walls and earthen rooftops whispering of faded Spanish grandeur. Now home to only a few hundred souls, the town clings to fertile soil and clear skies while decay looms over its adobe streets. Amid this blend of lingering prosperity and looming ruin, two striking riders break the evening hush, their arrival promising to disturb the fragile peace.

Don López Arriaga leads, a bronze‑skinned man in velvet, gold‑trimmed attire and silver‑tipped spurs, a rifle slung across his chest like a badge of authority. Beside him, the grim Don Juan Venado matches his flamboyance with a steel‑hard gaze, bound by a secret commission that has drawn them to the modest ranch of Pépé Naïpès. There, uneasy alliances between settlers and the local Indians simmer, suggesting a clash that will test loyalty and the fragile hopes of a region on the edge of change.