Under the Chilian Flag: A Tale of War between Chili and Peru

by Harry Collingwood

“Ay, that you will, you inhuman scoundrel,” muttered Jim; “but it will not be the sort of sleep of which you are thinking!” However, the prisoners and their guards pushed forward, and in about ten minutes’ time the group arrived at the foot of the little hill, which they at once began to climb.

“Now I wonder,” thought Jim, “whether the next time we tread this road it will be as free men once more. God grant us success this night, for if we fail there will be no second chance for us!”

The other officers seemed to be occupied with similar thoughts, for they examined the whole place and its surroundings very carefully as they ascended; evidently in order that, should the attempt be successful, they might be able to find their way down in the darkness. At last the summit was reached; but before the weary men could enjoy the rest of which they stood in such great need, they were obliged to unload the tents and provisions from the pack mules, the Peruvians being much to lazy to do anything for themselves. It was therefore about eight o’clock by the time that the tents were pitched and the evening meal prepared; and when the food was ready the prisoners ate as much as they could, for they did not in the least know where they would obtain their next meal. This having been done, the pots and pans had to be cleaned and put away; so that it was a tolerably weary company which at last sought its tents to lie down and rest.

But not to slumber. There was not a single Chilian among those to whom the plan had been revealed who closed his eyes, lest he should fall asleep and thus not be ready when the momentous signal should be given. Long before this it had been ascertained that there were but four keys for the purpose of locking and unlocking the prisoners’ manacles; one being held by the captain, while the other three were distributed in turn among the soldiers, being given to three different men every day, for the better security of the prisoners, and to make sure that there could be no tampering with the guards. Jim had been keeping his eyes very wide open all through the day, and he had noticed which of the Peruvians were the men who had the keys in their possession that night, while he had also carefully marked the positions where they had thrown themselves down to sleep. Two of the soldiers had retired to a tent, but the third had fortunately elected to sleep in the open, as the night was very warm.

The plan arranged was for Jim and his group of manacled fellow-officers to crawl forward, and either kill or stun one of the gaolers—it would be too risky to tackle more than one—secure his key, unlock their own fetters, and then to go silently the rounds, setting free their companions. When all were at liberty they were to seize their shovels and pickaxes and with them attack the slumbering soldiery, killing as many as possible before they were fully awake and could seize their rifles. Should they be discovered before the work was complete, those who were free were to keep off the Peruvians while the remainder were set at liberty.

It sounded rather a barbarous scheme, but Jim could think of no other which would be at all likely to be successful; and he was by this time rendered altogether too hardened by privation and ill-treatment to feel very much pity for the callously brutal Peruvian guards. Besides, it was his life or theirs, and he had no difficulty in choosing.

The young Englishman waited until midnight, in order to allow the soldiers to get well asleep, and then he silently nudged his companions to make sure that all were awake. They all were,—very wide awake, too,—and, after a few low-voiced instructions from Douglas, the little body of men began to crawl away through the darkness, taking the utmost care that there should be no clanking of chains to betray their movements. Forward on hands and knees they went, all moving together; and they soon passed through the ranks of their comrades, who did not make a single movement while the gallant little band crawled past.

Soon they had left the Chilian part of the encampment behind; and a few minutes later, Jim, who was the leading man of the party, came abreast of the first Peruvian tent. The night was pitchy dark, although there was a young moon, for the sky was covered with dark, low-lying clouds. This was all the better, for it lessened the probability of their being seen by the sentries; but they had to exercise a great deal of caution to avoid colliding with and so disturbing any soldiers who had elected to sleep out in the open.

“Now,” whispered Jim, as they came abreast of a certain tent, looming up dim and ghostly in the darkness; “Pedrillo is sleeping just outside this tent. Forward, men; but carefully, for your lives. One false step now, and all will be lost. Come along, and remember—we must be quick and silent at—at the work which we have to do. There must not be so much as a single struggle.”

His companions now came up abreast of Douglas, instead of following in single file; and, still abreast, they crawled toward the slumbering custodian of the key. Nearer and nearer they drew, until only a few yards separated them from their prey, then only a few feet. They were almost within arm’s length of him now; silently they crept forward again, then they paused. The only sound was that caused by the heavy breathing of the victim and the soft, hissing breaths of his executioners. Now they crept forward again until they were close to the man; Jim plucked the sleeve of the Chilian nearest to him, and together they leaned over the gaoler.