CHAPTER XIII.
IN THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY.
The last words of José Pelado were called forth by the sudden appearance of a peon with the announcement that a body of insurgents had been seen the night before, and that a flock of cattle had been killed or driven away by them. Upon receiving this intelligence, the coffee planter replied in Spanish in a tone that showed great anger. When he had conversed with the messenger for a few minutes he turned back to his guests, saying:
"The hungry hounds are again abroad. That mountain outlaw, Juan Rhoades, is at his old pranks, and this time he has become bolder than common from the fact that he has succeeded in calling about him more than five hundred rebels. News also comes from San Carlos that two spies are in this vicinity, and that efforts are being made to hunt them down. Well, let the fools look after themselves. Rhoades had better give me a wide berth."
Ronie and Jack were beginning to think it was about time for them to be on their way. Their horses were well rested by this time, so they proposed to Señor Pelado that they bid him good-by. He seemed disappointed to find they were not going to stay longer, and showed his good-will by offering to send an escort of men to protect them in case they should be attacked by Rhoades and his outlaws. But our heroes stoutly opposed this, while thanking him for his kindness.
"Two will be able to get through where a larger body might attract attention and find it difficult to escape," replied Jack.
"You seem like plucky fellows, and I think you will get through all right. In case you do need help, do not hesitate to call on José Pelado. If you succeed in meeting General Castro give him my regards."
These parting words were not spoken until Ronie and Jack had regained their saddles, and were heading their horses toward Caracas. As they dashed out upon the road they noticed a crowd of peons watching them with looks not altogether friendly.
"Did you notice that tall fellow—the one with the extraordinary mustache—who stood somewhat in the background while we talked with Pelado?" asked Ronie.
"That I did, lad, and I says to myself: 'That fellow is hatching mischief.' He was not in sight the last part of our stay."
"I did not see him, Jack. What do you think he will do—follow us?"
"Not exactly; but if we do not meet some of his confederates before night I shall be happily disappointed. At any rate, it behooves us to be on the lookout continually."
The way now wound through a coffee country, and they were frequently met by these small planters, sometimes singly, but more often by twos or in squads.
"The idleness that usually follows in the footsteps of war seems lo have fallen on the inhabitants," remarked Jack.
As this did not seem to call for any reply, Ronie remained silent, his mind busy with the thoughts of past adventures and conjectures over the possibilities ahead. So the midday was passed, and the afternoon came on apace, while they moved leisurely on so as not to exhaust their horses. These were given their noon meal, and allowed two hours of rest under the friendly shade of a tacamahaca, which was fragrant with the resinous substance that it exuded from its trunk, an opaque, lemon-colored sort of wax which the natives on the Orinoco used very much for torchlights. This was a tree of great size and beauty. They were now in a region broken by the outlying spurs of mountain, and about sunset reached a mountain hamlet which bore a decidedly deserted appearance.
It had been their intention to push on beyond this place, preferring to pass the night at some isolated planter's than here, but Ronie's horse, which had showed slight lameness for several hours, now became unable to go any farther. In this dilemma they looked about for a stopping place. In this matter they soon found they were not to be given much choice. The dwellings were so nearly alike, and built after the pyramidal style of architecture already described, slanting roofs reaching nearly to the ground, thatched with palm leaves, four posts with ox hides stretched between composed the walls, so the collection looked like a colony of beehives. Unfortunately, they were soon to learn that it was not "a land of milk and honey." The houses possessed no doors and windows, professedly for the reason that they were not needed in that climate. Neither were they needed to protect the occupant from prowling thieves, for the very simple reason that the owner owned nothing worth stealing!
After passing nearly the length of this poverty-marked hamlet, our heroes hailed with delight the appearance of a building which looked like a palace when compared to the others. It did prove to be a sort of public house, or, rather, a hospital where people seeking the bracing atmosphere of this mountain retreat and the mineral water to be found here could stop. The lower half of the walls were made of stout planks in the rough, with doors and windows. The upper portion was left open to allow free passage of air and light. Ample protection from sun and storm was afforded by the slanting roof, which reached to within five feet of the ground. Under these overhanging eaves a narrow veranda encircled the building.
Half a dozen swarthy-hued men in loose attire, a pair of breeches, tightly buttoned at the knees, and a shirt of bright colors, marked off like a checkerboard, lounged about the abode, but not one of them offered them any attention, except to stare upon them with undisguised curiosity, as our twain paused in front of the main entrance. Upon dismounting and entering the building, they were greeted by the proprietor with many smiles and much scraping and bowing.
"Señor, Americanos have heard of the wonderful curative powers of the waters of San Andrea, and have come hither to recover their wasted vitality?" he half questioned, half answered, bowing at almost each word which he delivered in a musical tone.
"Partly for that, and partly for pleasure," replied Jack. "Our horses are tired, and one of them is lame. We ourselves are weary and dust laden, and so desire rest and quiet more than we do food."
"Si, señors," waving one hand to a group of peons, who instantly left the apartment, ostensibly to look after the jaded animals, and the other toward an opening leading into an adjoining room. Thinking it was meant for them to repair thither, Jack and Ronie did so at once. It must have been dark in the room at midday; it was certainly now too dusky for them to distinguish each other with clearness. Seeing two or three clumsy, cedar chairs, covered with rawhide, standing near the wall, they each selected a seat, while they glanced about them with feelings hard to describe. If the place boasted as the resort for invalids and pleasure seekers, it had very little to offer in the way of the comforts of either. It was in truth scarcely better fitted to accommodate its guests than the tent of the wandering Arab of the desert. In addition to the rude chairs mentioned, there was a rough table placed against the wall, evidently because it could not stand alone, and a couple of grass hammocks that were intended for the double purpose of bed and lounge. Nothing in the shape of a bowl in which to lave their dust-stained faces and hands was to be seen, while they were to learn a little later that water was too scarce at this resort of mineral springs to show any need of it.
"Well," said Jack, in a low tone, "this beats anything we have found before. But if they will give our poor horses care we can get along ourselves."
"I suppose we had better give them our personal attention," said Ronie.
"In due course of time, lad. I wish now we had kept nearer the seacoast, but I will not borrow trouble. Who is coming now?"
The visitor proved to be an attendant of the house, who wished to inquire in regard to the wants of their "illustrious guests."
"We need nothing more at present," replied Jack, "than a couple of basins of cool water in which to lave these bodies and limbs of ours."
"Si, señors; your slightest wish is law at San Andrea," and, bowing very low, the speaker withdrew, and our friends were left alone for more than half an hour, when the man returned bearing in either hand a small calabash filled with water that was too thick with mud to spill over. These rude dishes possibly contained a quart of the dirty liquid each. Depositing these vessels on the table, the servant expressed the wish that they might enjoy a "very excellent bath."
"No doubt we shall," declared Jack. "Did you have to bring this far?"
"From the river, señor; two kilometers away."
"Horn of rock—Gibraltar, if you please, we'll excuse you for the time it took you. But haven't you water nearer than a mile?"
"A little, señor. Supper will be ready when you have washed."
After supper they went to examine their-horses, to find that Ronie's did not show much improvement. One of the peons, however, had interested himself so far as to bandage the limb in some black decoction that he claimed was good for a sprain, which was evidently the trouble with the creature. This man became very friendly upon finding that his efforts were so well appreciated, and he began to talk glibly of other matters, saying, among other things:
"You come from Maracaibo, I think, señors. Did you see anything of Captain Rhoades and his bold riders?"
"We heard of him," replied Jack. "We have been looking for them. Are you expecting them this way?"
"No one can tell where El Capitan will strike next, señor. He is very brave, and he moves about as if he and his men had wings."
"Is it possible that Castro's hirelings have penetrated into this region?" asked Jack, as a feeler.
"Possible it may be, but not probable. He has been whipped on every hand, and I have no doubt General Matos will ride into Caracas its conquerer before we are much older."
"Si, señor," replied Jack, who, finding that nothing more was likely to be learned, led the way back into the house. A few men were standing about in the reception-room, but everything seemed very quiet, giving little indication of the storm so soon to rise.
Ronie and Jack lay down upon their hammocks without delay, believing it would be good policy to rest while they; might, knowing not what an hour might bring forth. They had slept about three hours, when they were awakened by a commotion in the adjoining apartment, supplemented by loud voices. In a moment they were sitting bolt upright, listening to catch what was being said. The tones were loud enough for them to do this, but the speakers, all of whom were talking in Spanish, spoke in such excitement and disjointed manner that it was some time before even Jack could understand sufficient to explain the situation.
"I think it is a band of the mountain guerrillas," he whispered to Ronie, as they moved close together. "It may be Rhoades' band, I cannot say. Ha! they are speaking of a couple of Americanos coming this way. Now the proprietor is telling them there are two stranger Americanos in here. Lad, they mean us! It looks so we have got to get out or fall into their hands."
Before his companion could reply an ugly-looking visage appeared above the edge of the woodwork forming the walls of the building, and which, as has been said, were built only half the height of the structure. Then it became evident from the sounds that the body of soldiers in the adjoining room were about to enter their quarters!
"We are in for it now!" said Jack. "We might as well make a bold dash for liberty. The time for palavering is past."