Roger the Bold: A Tale of the Conquest of Mexico

by F. S. Brereton

"More likely to strike friend than foe," was the reassuring answer. "Ah! That shot would have sunk a single canoe with the wash it caused. Philip is lighting up."

It was still sufficiently light to enable those on the causeway to see what was passing, and Roger distinctly noticed Philip stand erect, and lift his pole into the canoe. Then there was a glow from the smouldering match he carried, followed by a burst of smoke, and then by a leaping flame which seemed to spread all over the craft. No! Not all over, for there was Philip at the stern, surrounded by flame, it seemed, and still poling towards the enemy. As for Peter, a shot fired from the nearest brigantine had struck the water within a foot of him, and as Roger had said, had well-nigh swamped his frail boat. However, he was unhurt, and following Philip's example, struck his match and then poled the flaming craft towards the brigantines. Fierce shouts resounded on every side, while aboard the brigantines there was the utmost confusion. Men raced up and down the decks, while the crews were called to the anchors. Some endeavoured to handle the pieces. But none were fashioned to be rapidly depressed, and so it happened that not a single shot struck the fire-craft. Nor did those who held the muskets help in the matter, for they too were taken with a panic. They threw down their weapons and helped at the anchor, or seized the long poles and endeavoured to push the vessel away into the lake.

Thud! The canoe in which stood Philip struck the side of the nearest brigantine, and Roger saw the young Englishman coolly grapple the rail with the hook with which his pole was armed. Then he beckoned to the native, and handing him the pole, drew his sword. In another moment he had sprung aboard, and the last that Roger saw of him he was slashing furiously at the enemy, while the native, clinging to the fire-craft till he was scorched, kept it close to the enemy's vessel till it had caught fire. Then he called loudly to Philip, and waiting till the latter had leaped into the water, disappeared in the same himself. Peter had equal luck, and showed the same pluck and determination. Indeed, within five minutes two of the brigantines were in flames from end to end, for they were constructed of a highly inflammable wood, while their crews were plunging overboard in frantic alarm. As for the others, they cut away from their anchorage and poled into deep water, their crews aghast at the boldness and the success of the Mexicans. On the far side of the gap the Spaniards could hardly believe their eyes. They stared at the blazing vessels, forgetting their own particular portion of the conflict. It was an opportunity, and Roger seized upon it.

"The plank, Tamba," he shouted. "Now follow, every one, and sweep them from the causeway."

He leaped upon the top of the barricade, his tall figure standing out finely against the glare of the blazing vessels. Then, as Tamba placed the plank in position, he ran across it, and threw himself alone upon the Spaniards.

"Ah! A sortie! The dog of an English giant!" shouted their leader, who happened to be nearest. "Rally men! To the gap! Hold the causeway!"

His sword leaped to the front, and he made a thrust at Roger, which might well have transfixed him. But Roger had not experienced all this fighting for nothing. He put the thrust aside with a swift movement, and returned the blow with a terrific cut which fell full upon the Spaniard's helmet. There was the noise of rending steel, the Spaniard gasped and let his sword fall with a clatter. Then he pitched forward on to the causeway, and happening to tumble into a portion of the gap which had been only partially filled, and which sloped steeply, he slid, an inert mass, down the slope, and disappeared in the lake.

"Rally! Rally! Men of Mexico. Your leader is here. Forward, and drive the enemy! Forward, till we reach their camp!"

It was Teotlili who took up the shout, and voiced it to the pitch of his lungs. Not that the Mexicans needed encouragement, for their excitement was great, and their spirits raised to the utmost pitch by the success of the fire-ships. They shouted lustily, and then, to the accompaniment of shouts and shrill whistles came over the barricade like a swarm of bees, and hurled themselves against the Spaniards. And now numbers and the suddenness of the sortie told in their favour; for whereas formerly those armed with the native sword had been practically helpless in the face of the Spanish swordsmen, now the rush carried all before the Mexicans. The Spaniards broke and fled, Roger and his men in hot pursuit.

"To their camp! To their camp!" he shouted. Then seeing Teotlili, he urged his way toward him, the Mexicans making a path at once.