THE FORWARD MARCH.
The sun had risen nearly an hour when Valentine, and the band he commanded, joined Captain de Laville and the prisoners again at about two leagues from La Magdalena. The Mexicans were marching with bowed heads, and hands fastened behind their backs, between two files of French horsemen, with their rifles on the thigh, and finger on the trigger. The captain was slightly in advance of his men, conversing with the old Mexican officer, whose legs had been tied under his horse's belly, owing to an attempt at escape he had made.
In the rear came the prisoners' horses, easily recaught by the adventurers, and loaded with the muskets, sabres, and lances of their ex-masters. When the two bands united they went on more rapidly. Valentine, had he wished it, could have reached the camp before sunrise; but it was important for the success of the expedition, at the head of which the count had placed himself, that the population of La Magdalena, at this moment increased tenfold by the strangers who, owing to the festival, had flocked in from all parts of Sonora, should understand that the French had not undertaken an expedition so feather-brained as was supposed, or at least as the Mexican Government wished it to be supposed, and therefore the prisoners would march into camp in broad daylight.
The count, warned by Curumilla, whom the hunter sent on in advance, determined to give great importance to this affair, and display a certain degree of ostentation: consequently the whole army was under arms; and the flag, planted in front of the count's tent to the sound of bugles and drums, was saluted by the shouts of the adventurers. As the count had foreseen, the inhabitants of La Magdalena rushed to the camp to witness the sight the count prepared for them; and the road was soon covered by curious persons on horse and on foot, hurrying to be the first to arrive. When the head of the detachment reached the camp gates it stopped at a signal from Valentine, and a bugler sounded a call. At this summons an officer came out.
"Who goes there?" he shouted.
"France!" Captain de Laville, who had advanced a few paces, replied.
"What corps?" the officer continued.
"The liberating army of Sonora!"
An immense shout, raised by the populace, drowned the words.
"Enter," the officer said.
The barrier was raised, the drums began beating, the bugles sounding, and the marching past began. There was something really grand in this scene, so simple in itself, but which made the heart beat more rapidly when you examined the resolute air of this handful of men, left to themselves without succour, six thousand leagues from their country, who so proudly sustained the name of France, and who, at the beginning of the campaign, without firing a shot, returned with a hundred prisoners captured at the moment they were preparing to surprise the camp.
The Sonorians, under an involuntary emotion, regarded the Frenchmen with a respectful timidity, mingled with admiration, and, far from pitying the fate of their compatriots, they overwhelmed them with yells and jests. So great is the influence of courage and energy on these primitive races! When the prisoners were collected in the middle of the camp square the count approached them, surrounded by his staff and some of the chief inhabitants of La Magdalena, who followed him instinctively, carried away by their enthusiasm. It was really a holiday. Floods of light inundated the landscape; a gentle breeze refreshed the atmosphere; the bugles played merry tunes; the drums rattled; and the assembled populace uttered shouts of joy, while waving handkerchiefs and hats. The count smiled, for he was momentarily happy. The future appeared to him less gloomy and sad. He examined the prisoners for a moment with a pensive eye.
"I have come to Sonora," he at length said in a piercing voice, "to give liberty to the people of this country. I have been represented to you as a cruel and faithless man. Begone! You are free! Go and tell your countrymen how the chief of the pirates avenges the calumnies spread abroad about him. I do not even ask of you the promise not to bear arms against me again. I have on my side something which is stronger than all the soldiers who can be opposed to me—the hand of God, which guides me; for He wishes that this country should be at length free and regenerated. Unfasten those men, and restore them their horses."
The order was immediately obeyed, and the people greeted this generous resolution with shouts and ebullitions of joy. The prisoners hastened to quit the camp, though not before they had displayed by energetic protestations, their gratitude for the count's generosity. Don Louis then turned to Captain Isidro.
"As for you, captain," he said gravely, "you are one of the few lions left from that war of independence which overthrew the Spanish power. We are brothers, for we both serve the same cause. Take back your sword: a brave man like you must always wear it at his side."
The captain looked at him gloomily.
"Why can I no longer hate you?" he replied. "I should have preferred an insult to your generosity. Now I am no longer free."
"You are so, captain. I ask from you neither friendship nor gratitude. I have acted as I thought it my duty to do. Let us each follow our own road, but let us try not to meet again."
"Your hand, caballero; and now a word."
"Speak."
"Take care of the persons in whom you place confidence."
"Explain yourself."
"I can say no more, or I should be a traitor myself."
"Oh, ever, ever the same treachery!" the count muttered, growing thoughtful.
"And now farewell, caballero. If I am forbidden to wish the success of your plans, at least I will do nothing against them; and if you do not see me among the ranks of your friends, I shall not be in those of your enemies."
The old captain bounded into his seat, made his horse perform a few graceful curvets, and after bowing to the company, started at a gallop.
The remainder of the day was one continued festival. The count had succeeded: his generous conduct to the prisoners bore its fruits. The French adventurers had risen enormously in the opinion of the Sonorians. The count had already acquired a great influence in the country, and several persons began to prognosticate a successful issue for the expedition.
At nightfall Don Louis convoked all the chiefs of the army to a secret council of war. By a providential accident, the count, who would doubtlessly have permitted Don Cornelio to be present at the council, owing to the confidence he placed in him, had sent that gentleman to La Magdalena to buy several horses he required. This commission, by preventing the Spaniard's presence at the council, insured its secrecy.
Don Cornelio had succeeded by a miracle in escaping the hunter's pursuit, and had re-entered the camp unnoticed about two hours before the arrival of the prisoners. He had killed his horse, but was this time at least safe himself, for no one dreamed of suspecting him; and even had it been the case, nothing would have been easier for him than to establish an alibi.
At eight in the evening the roll call sounded, the camp gates were closed, and the officers proceeded to head quarters; that is to say, the jacal inhabited by the count. A row of sentries, set about ten paces distant from the hut, so as to be themselves out of hearing distance, had orders to fire on the first person who attempted to enter the place of meeting without orders.
The count was seated at a table, on which a road map of Sonora was laid out. The assembly was composed of some fifteen persons, among whom were Valentine, Curumilla, Captain de Laville, and Belhumeur, who was too intimate a friend of the count to be excluded from a conference of such an important nature. When all had arrived the door was shut, and the count rose.
"Comrades," he said in a firm voice, though suppressed, lest he should be heard outside, "our expedition is about to commence in reality: what we have done up to the present is nothing. I have several times sounded, either myself or through my spies, the intentions of the richest hacenderos or campesinos of this State. They seem very well disposed toward us; but let us not be deceived by fallacious promises. These people will do nothing as long as our expedition does not rest on a solid base of operations; in other words, we must seize on a city. If we succeed, our cause is gained, for the whole country will rise for us. I have led you to this place because La Magdalena forms the extremity of an angle at which three roads debouch, each leading to one of the chief cities of Sonora; and it is one of those cities we must carry. But which shall it be? That is the question. All three are crammed with troops: in addition, General Guerrero holds the roads leading to them, and he has sworn," the count added with a smile, "to make only one mouthful of us, if we dare to take one step in advance. But that disquiets you but very slightly, I suppose: let us, therefore, return to the important question. Captain de Laville, be good enough to give us your opinion."
The captain bowed.
"I am inclined for Sonora," he said. "It is a new city, I grant, but it bears the name of the country we propose to deliver, and that is an important consideration."
Several officers spoke in turn, and the majority ranged themselves on the side of Captain de Laville. The count then turned to Valentine.
"And what is your opinion, brother?"
"Hum!" the hunter said, "I am no great hand at talking, as you know, brother," he answered. "Still I have a certain knowledge of warfare, which may perhaps inspire me rightly. You want a rich and manufacturing city, in order to protect the opulent inhabitants of the country from any sudden attack, and whence you can effect your retreat without danger, if too numerous forces try to crush you. Is it not so?"
"Indeed, the city we seize must combine these three conditions as far as possible."
"There is only one which combines them."
"It is Hermosillo," Belhumeur said.
"That is true," Valentine went on. "That city is inclosed with walls. It is the entrepôt of all the trade of Sonora, and consequently very rich; and, which is of the last importance to us, it is only fifteen leagues from Guaymas, the port where reinforcements will land coming from California, if we require them, and where we can seek a refuge if we are compelled to fight our retreat."
The truth of these words was immediately recognised by the hearers.
"I am also inclined for Hermosillo," the count said; "but I must not conceal from you that General Guerrero, who, after all, is an experienced soldier, has so well comprehended the advantages which would result to us from the occupation of that city, that he has concentrated imposing forces there."
"All the better, count!" de Laville exclaimed. "In that way the Mexicans will learn to know us at the first blow."
All applauded these words, and it was definitively settled that the army should march on Hermosillo.
"Another objection," the count said: "the Mexicans are masters of the three roads. We must put them off the scent."
"That is my business," Valentine said with a laugh. "Good! we will make demonstrations on three sides at once, so as to keep the enemy on the move, and we will advance by forced marches on Hermosillo. Still I am afraid we shall lose a heavy number of men."
Curumilla rose. Up to this moment the Araucano had remained silently on a stool, smoking his Indian calumet, and not seeming to hear what was said around him.
"Let the chief speak," Valentine said; "his words are worth their weight in gold."
Everyone was silent.
"Curumilla," the chief said, "knows a crossroad which abridges the distance, and of which the Mexican general is ignorant. Curumilla will guide his friends."
The chief then took up his calumet again, and sat down once more as if it were nothing. From this moment the discussion was at an end. Curumilla, according to his custom, had cut the knot by removing the most dangerous obstacle.
"Comrades," the count said, "the wagons and guns are horsed. Wake up your men, and break up the camp silently. The inhabitants of La Magdalena, on getting up tomorrow morning, must not know what has become of us."
Then taking Captain de Laville and Valentine one side,—
"While I am going along the crossroad under the chiefs guidance, you, captain, will proceed in the direction of Ures; and you, brother, will march on Sonora. Get near enough to be seen, but do not engage in any skirmish; fall back, and join me again at once. We can only conquer our enemies by the rapidity of our movements."
"But in case we cannot join you on the road," Valentine objected, "what place will you appoint for our meeting?"
"The Hacienda del Milagro, four leagues from Hermosillo," Belhumeur said. "Headquarters will be there."
"Yes," the count said, furtively pressing the Canadian's hand.
The meeting broke up, and each went to execute the orders he had received. The camp was broken up in the utmost silence, and the most minute precautions were taken to allow none of the movements to transpire outside. The bivouac fires were left lighted; in short, nothing was touched which could cause any suspicion of a hurried departure.
At about eleven in the night the two parties, under Valentine and Captain de Laville, set out in different directions: the count soon followed them with the main body and the baggage, so that by midnight the camp was entirely deserted. Curumilla had not deceived the count. After about two hours' march he made the troops wheel to the right, and entered a narrow path, in which there was just room for the vehicles, and the whole company disappeared in the infinite windings of a true wild beast's track, in which it was impossible to suppose that an armed body, accompanied by numerous and heavy wagons and field pieces, would ever venture.
Still, when the first obstacles were overcome, this road, which appeared so difficult, offered no serious causes for delay, and the Frenchmen pushed on rapidly. Two days after they were rejoined by the detachments which had operated on their flank. Captain de Laville and Valentine had been completely successful in deceiving the general, whose advanced post still continued to guard the roads, little suspecting that they had been turned.
This march lasted nine days, through numberless difficulties, over shifting sand which fled beneath the feet, under a parching heat with no water, and, during the last two days, with no provisions or forage. But nothing could lessen the courage of the men, or destroy their inexhaustible gaiety: they went on bravely, keeping their eyes fixed on their chief, who went on foot before them, consoling and encouraging them. On the evening of the ninth day they saw in the distance, in the centre of a well-wooded landscape, the outlines of a considerable hacienda. It was the first house they had come across since leaving La Magdalena.
"What hacienda is that?" Don Louis asked Belhumeur, who walked by his side.
"The Hacienda del Milagro," the Canadian answered.
The Frenchmen uttered a shout of joy: they had arrived. They had marched sixty leagues in nine days, along almost impracticable roads.
Curumilla had kept his promise. Thanks to him, the column had not been molested.