Between Two Fires.
The ravine was filled with shrubs and trees, through which we partly forced, partly threaded our way, until we reached a spot where we were invisible from the road.
“Now off with your cobija and throw it over your horse’s head,” said Carmen. “If they don’t hear they won’t neigh, and a single neigh might be our ruin.”
“You mean to stay here until the troops have gone past?”
“Exactly, I knew there was a good hiding-place hereabout, and that if we reached it before the troops came up we should be safe. If there be any more of them they will pass us in a few minutes. Now, if you will hitch Pizarro to that tree—oh, you have done so already. Good! Well, let us return to the road and watch. We can hide in the grass, or behind the bushes.”
We returned accordingly, and choosing a place where we could see without being seen, we lay down and listened, exchanging now and then a whispered remark.
“Hist!” said Carmen, presently, putting his ear to the ground. He had been so long on the war-path and lived so much in the open air, that his senses were almost as acute as those of a wild animal.
“They are coming!”
Soon the hum of voices, the neighing of steeds, and the clang of steel fell on my ear, and peering between the branches I could see a group of shadows moving toward us. Then the shadows, taking form and substance, became six horsemen. They passed within a few feet of our hiding-place. We heard their talk, saw their faces in the moonlight, and Carmen whispered that he could distinguish the facings of their uniforms.
“It is as I feared,” he muttered, “the entire regiment of Irun, shifting their quarters to Caracas. We are prisoners here for an hour or two. Well, it is perhaps better to have them behind than before us.”
“What will happen when they find the bodies of the two troopers?”
“That is precisely the question I am asking myself. But not having met us they will naturally conclude that we have gone on toward Caracas.”
“Unless they are differently informed by the man who escaped us.”
“I don’t think he would be in any hurry to turn back. He went off at a devil of a pace.”
“He might turn back for all that, when he recovered from his scare. He could not help seeing that we were only two, and if he informs the others they will know of a surety that we are hiding in the ravine.”
“And then there would be a hunt. However, at the speed they are riding it will take them an hour or more to reach the scene of our skirmish, and then there is coming back. Everything depends on how soon the last of them go by. If we have only a few minutes start they will never overtake us, and once on the other side of Los Teycos we shall be safe both from discovery and pursuit. European cavalry are of no use in a Venezuelan forest; and I don’t think these Irun fellows have any blood-hounds.”
“Blood-hounds! You surely don’t mean to say that the Spaniards use blood-hounds?”
“I mean nothing else. General Griscelli, who holds the chief command in the district of San Felipe, keeps a pack of blood-hounds, which he got from Cuba. But, though a Spanish general, Griscelli is not a Spaniard born. He is either a Corsican or an Italian. I believe he was originally in the French army, and when Dupont surrendered at Baylen he went over to the other side, and accepted a commission from the King of Spain.”
“Not a very good record, that.”
“And he is not a good man. He outvies even the Spaniards in cruelty. A very able general, though. He has given us a deal of trouble. Down with your head! Here comes some more.”
A whole troop this time. They pass in a cloud of dust. After a short interval another detachment sweeps by; then another and another.
“Gracias a Dios! they are putting on more speed. At this rate we shall soon be at liberty. But, caramba, how they might have been trapped, Señor Fortescue! A few men on that height hurling down rocks, the defile lined with sharp-shooters, half a hundred of Mejia’s llaneros to cut off their retreat, and the regiment of Irun could be destroyed to a man.”
“Or taken prisoners.”
“I don’t think there would be many prisoners,” said Carmen, grimly. “These must almost be the last, I think—they are. See! Here come the tag-rag and bobtail.”
The tag-rag and bob-tail consisted of a string of loaded mules with their arrieros, a dozen women riding mules, and as many men on foot.
“Let us get out of this hole while we may, and before any of them come back. Once on the road and mounted, we shall at least be able to fight; but down here—”
“All the same, this hole has served our turn well. However, I quite agree with you that the best thing we can do is to get out of it quickly.”
This was more easily said than done. It was like climbing up a precipice. Pizarro slipped back three times. Carmen’s mare did no better. In the end we had to dismount, fasten two lariats to each saddle, and haul while the horses scrambled. A little help goes a long way in such circumstances.
All this both made noise and caused delay, and it was with a decided sense of relief that we found ourselves once more in the saddle and en route.
“We have lost more time than I reckoned on,” said Carmen, as we galloped through the pass. “If any of the dragoons had turned back—However, they did not, and, as our horses are both fresher than theirs and carry less weight, they will have no chance of overtaking us if they do; and, as the whole of the regiment has gone on, there is no chance of meeting any more of them—Caramba! Halt!”
“What is it?” I asked, pulling up short.
“I spoke too soon. More are coming. Don’t you hear them?”
“Yes; and I see shadows in the distance.”
“The shadows are soldiers, and we shall have to charge them whether they be few or many, amigo mio; so say your prayers and draw your Toledo. But first let us shake hands, we may never—”
“I am quite ready to charge by your side, Carmen; but would it not be better, think you, to try what a little strategy will do?”
“With all my heart, if you can suggest anything feasible. I like a fight immensely—when the odds are not too great—and I hope to die fighting. All the same, I have no very strong desire to die at this particular moment.”
“Neither have I. So let us go on like peaceable travellers, and the chances are that these men, taking for granted that the others have let us pass, will not meddle with us. If they do, we must make the best fight we can.”
“A happy thought! Let us act on it. If they ask any questions I will answer. Your English accent might excite suspicion.”
The party before us consisted of nine horsemen, several of whom appeared to be officers.
“Buene noche, señores,” said Carmen, so soon as we were within speaking distance.
“Buene noche, señores. You have met the troops, of course. How far are they ahead?” asked one of the officers.
“The main body are quite a league ahead by this time. The pack-mules and arrieros passed us about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Gracias! Who are you, and whither may you be wending, señores?”
“I am Sancho Mencar, at your service, señor coronel, a Government messenger, carrying despatches to General Salazar, at La Victoria. My companion is Señor Tesco, a merchant, who is journeying to the same place on business.”
“Good! you can go on. You will meet two troopers who are bringing on a prisoner. Do me the favor to tell them to make haste.”
“Certainly, señor coronel. Adios, señores.”
“Adio señores.”
And with that we rode on our respective ways.
“Two troopers and prisoner,” said Carmen, thoughtfully.
“So there are more of them, after all! How many, I wonder? If this prisoner be a patriot we must rescue him, señor Fortescue.”
“With all my heart—if we can.”
“Only two troopers! You and I are a match for six.”
“Possibly. But we don’t know that the two are not followed by a score! There seems to be no end of them.”
“I don’t think so. If there were the colonel would have asked us to tell them also to hurry up. But we shall soon find out. When we meet the fellows we will speak them fair and ask a few questions.”
Ten minutes later we met them.
“Buene noche, señores!” said Carmen, riding forward. “We bring a message from the colonel. He bids you make haste.”
“All very fine. But how can we make haste when we are hampered by this rascal? I should like to blow his brains out.”
“This rascal” was the prisoner, a big powerful fellow who seemed to be either a zambo or a negro. His arms were bound to his side, and he walked between the troopers, to whose saddles he was fastened by two stout cords.
“Why don’t you blow his brains out?”
“Because we should get into trouble. He is the colonel’s slave, and therefore valuable property. We have tried dragging him along; but the villain throws himself down, and might get a limb broken, so all we can do is prod him occasionally with the points of our sabres; but he does not seem to mind us in the least. We have tried swearing; we might as well whistle. Make haste, indeed!”
“A very hard case, I am sure. I sympathize with you, señores. Is the man a runaway that you have to take such care of him?”
“That is just it. He ran away and rambled for months in the forest; and if he had not stolen back to La Victoria and been betrayed by a woman, he would never have been caught. After that, the colonel would not trust him at large; but he thinks that at Caracas he will have him safe. And now, señores, with your leave we must go on.”
“Ah! You are the last, I suppose?”
“We are; curse it! The main body must be a league ahead by this time, and we shall not reach Caracas for hours. Adios!”
“Let us rescue the poor devil!” I whispered to Carmen.
“By all means. One moment, señores; I beg your pardon—now, Fortescue!”
And with that we placed our horses across the road, whipped out our pistols and pointed them at the troopers’ heads, to their owners’ unutterable surprise.
“We are sorry to inconvenience you, señores,” said my companion, politely; “but we are going to release this slave, and we have need of your horses. Unbuckle your swords, throw them on the ground, and dismount. No hesitation, or you are dead men! Shall we treat them as they proposed to treat the slave, Señor Fortescue? Blow out their brains? It will be safer, and save us a deal of trouble.”
“No! That would be murder. Let them go. They can do no harm. It is impossible for them to overtake the others on foot.”
Meanwhile the soldiers, having the fear of being shot before them, had dismounted and laid down their weapons.
“Go!” said Carmen, pointing northward, and they went.
“Your name?” (to the prisoner whose bonds I was cutting with my sword).
“Here they call me José. In my own country I was called Gahra—”
“Let it be Gahra, then. It is less common than José. Every other peon in the country is called José. You are a native of Africa?”
“Si, señor.”
“How came you hither?”
“I was taken to Cuba in a slave-ship, brought to this country by General Salazar, and sold by him to Colonel Canimo.”
“You have no great love for the Spaniards, I suppose?”
Gahra pointed to his arms which had been chafed by the rope till they were raw, and showed us his back which bore the marks of recent stripes.
“Can you fight?”
“Against the Spaniards? Only give me the chance, and you shall see,” answered the negro in a voice of intense hate.
“Come with us, and you shall have many chances. Mount one of those horses and lead the other.”
Gahra mounted, and we moved on.
We were now at the beginning of a stiff ascent. The road, which though undulating had risen almost continuously since we left Caracas, was bordered with richly colored flowers and shrubs, and bounded on either side by deep forests. Night was made glorious by the great tropical moon, which shone resplendent under a purple sky gilding the tree-tops and lighting us on our way. Owing to the nature of the ground we could not see far before us, but the backward view, with its wood-crowned heights, deep ravines, and sombre mountains looming in the distance, was fairy-like and fantastic, and the higher we rose the more extensive it became.
“Is this a long hill?” I asked Carmen.
“Very. An affair of half an hour, at least, at this speed; and we cannot go faster,” he answered, as he turned half round in his saddle.
“Why are you looking backward?”
“To see whether we are followed. We lost much time in the quebrado, and we have lost more since. Have you good eyes, Gahara? Born Africans generally have.”
“Yes, sir. My name, Gahra Dahra, signifies Dahra, the keen sighted!”
“I am glad to hear it. Be good enough to look round occasionally, and if you see anything let us know.”
We had nearly reached the summit of the rise when the negro uttered an exclamation and turned his horse completely round.
“What is it?” asked Carmen and myself, following his example.
“I see figures on the brow of yonder hill.”
“You see more than I can, and I have not bad eyes,” said Carmen, looking intently. “What are they like, those figures?”
“That I cannot make out yet. They are many; they move; and every minute they grow bigger! That is all I can tell.”
“It is quite enough. The bodies of the two troopers have been found, the alarm has been given, and we are pursued. But they won’t overtake us. They have that hill to descend, this to mount; and our horses are better than theirs.”
“Are you going far, señor?” inquired Gahra.
“To the llanos.”
“By Los Teycos?”
“Yes. We shall easily steal through Los Teycos, and I know of a place in the forest beyond, where we can hide during the day.”
“Pardon me for venturing to contradict you, señor; but I fear you will not find it very easy to steal through Los Teycos. For three days it has been held by a company of infantry and all the outlets are strictly guarded. No civilian unfurnished with a safe conduct from the captain-general is allowed to pass.”
“Caramba! We are between two fires, it seems. Well, we must make a dash for it. The sentries cannot stop us, and we can gallop through before they turn out the guard.”
“The horses will be very tired by that time, señor, and the troopers can get fresh mounts at Los Teycos. But I know a way—”
“The Indian trail! Do you know the Indian trail?”
“Yes, sir. I know the Indian trail, and I can take you to a place in the forest where there is grass and water and game, and we shall be safe from pursuit as long as we like to stay.”
“How far off?”
“About two leagues.”
“Good. Lead on in heaven’s name. You are a treasure, Gahra Dahra. In rescuing you from those ruffianly Spaniards we did ourselves, as well as you, a good turn.”
Our pursuers, who numbered a full score, could now be distinctly seen, but in a few minutes we lost sight of them. After a sharp ride of half an hour, the negro called a halt.
“This is the place. Here we turn off,” he said.
“Here! I see nothing but the almost dry bed of a torrent.”
“So much the better. We shall make no footmarks,” said Carmen. “Go on, Gahra. But first of all turn that led horse adrift. Are you sure this place you speak of is unknown to the Spaniards?”
“Quite. It is known only to a few wandering Indians and fugitive slaves. We can stay here till sunrise. It is impossible to follow the Indian trail by night, even with such a moon as this.”
After we had partly ridden, partly walked (for we were several times compelled to dismount) about a mile along the bed of the stream, which was hemmed in between impenetrable walls of tall trees and dense undergrowth, Gahra, who was leading, called out: “This way!” and vanished into what looked like a hole, but proved to be a cleft in the bank so overhung by vegetation as to be well-nigh invisible.
It was the entrance to a passage barely wide enough to admit a horse and his rider, yet as light as a star-gemmed mid-night, for the leafy vault above us was radiant with fireflies, gleaming like diamonds in the dark hair of a fair woman.
But even with this help it was extremely difficult to force our way through the tangled undergrowth, which we had several times to attack, sword in hand, and none of us were sorry when Gahra announced that we had reached the end.
“Por todos los santos! But this is fairyland!” exclaimed Carmen, who was just before me. “I never saw anything so beautiful.”
He might well say so. We were on the shore of a mountain-tarn, into whose clear depths the crescent moon, looking calmly down, saw its image reflected as in a silver mirror. Lilies floated on its waters, ferns and flowering shrubs bent over them, the air was fragrant with sweet smells, and all around uprose giant trees with stems as round and smooth as the granite columns of a great cathedral; and, as it seemed in that dim religious light, high enough to support the dome of heaven.
I was so lost in admiration of this marvellous scene that my companions had unsaddled and were leading their horses down to the water before I thought of dismounting from mine.
Apart from the beauty of the spot, we could have found none more suitable for a bivouac! We were in safety and our horses in clover, and, tethering them with the lariats, we left them to graze. Gahra gathered leaves and twigs and kindled a fire, for the air at that height was fresh, and we were lightly clad. We cooked our tasajo on the embers, and after smoking the calumet of peace, rolled ourselves in our cobijas, laid our heads on our saddles, and slept the sleep of the just.