The Rifle Rangers (5 page)

Chapter
SIXTEEN. THE SCOUT CONTINUED, WITH A VARIETY OF REFLECTIONS.

I began to reflect upon the real danger of our situation-corralled upon a naked prairie, ten miles from camp, with no prospect of escape. I knew that we could defend ourselves against twice the number of our cowardly adversaries; they would never dare to come within range of our rifles. But how to get out? how to cross the open plain? Fifty infantry against four times that number of mounted men-lancers at that-and not a bush to shelter the foot-soldier from the long spear and the iron hoof!

The nearestmotte was half a mile off, and that another half a mile from the edge of the woods. Even could the motte be reached by a desperate run, it would be impossible to gain the woods, as the enemy would certainly cordon our new position, and thus completely cut us off. At present they had halted in a body about four hundred yards from the corral; and, feeling secure of having us in a trap, most of them had dismounted, and were running out their mustangs upon their lazos. It was plainly their determination to take us by siege.

To add to our desperate circumstances, we discovered that there was not a drop of water in the corral. The thirst that follows a fight had exhausted the scanty supply of our canteens, and the heat was excessive.

As I was running over in my mind the perils of our position, my eye rested upon Lincoln, who stood with his piece at a carry, his left hand crossed over his breast, in the attitude of a soldier waiting to receive orders.

"Well, Sergeant, what is it?" I inquired.

"Will yer allow me, Cap'n, ter take a couple o' files, and fetch in the Dutchman? The men 'ud like ter put a sod upon him afore them thievin' robbers kin git at him."

"Certainly. But will you be safe? He's at some distance from the stockade."

"I don't think them fellers 'll kum down-they've had enuf o' it just now. We'll run out quick, and the boys kin kiver us with their fire."

"Very well, then; set about it."

Lincoln returned to the company and selected four of the most active of his men, with whom he proceeded towards the entrance. I ordered the soldiers to throw themselves on that side of the inclosure, and cover the party in case of an attack; but none was made. A movement was visible among the Mexicans, as they perceived Lincoln and his party rush out towards the body; but, seeing they would be too late to prevent them from carrying it off, they wisely kept beyond the reach of the American rifles.

The body of the German was brought into the inclosure and buried with due ceremony, although his comrades believed that before many hours it would be torn from its "warrior grave", dragged forth to feed the coyote and vulture, and his bones left to whiten upon the naked prairie. Which of us knew that it might not in a few hours be his own fate?

"Gentlemen," said I to my brother officers, as we came together, "can you suggest any mode of escape?"

"Our only chance is to fight them where we stand. There are four to one," replied Clayey.

"We have no other chance, Captain," said Oakes, with a shake of the head.

"But it is not their intention to fightus . Their design is to starve us. See! they are picketing their horses, knowing they can easily overtake us if we attempt to leave the inclosure."

"Cannot we move in a hollow square?"

"But what is a hollow square of fifty men? and against four times that number of cavalry, with lances and lazos? No, no; they would shiver it with a single charge. Our only hope is that we may be able to hold out until our absence from camp may bring a detachment to our relief."

"And why not send for it?" inquired the major, who had scarcely been asked for his advice, but whose wits had been sharpened by the extremity of his danger. "Why not send for a couple of regiments?"

"How are we to send, Major?" asked Clayley, looking on the major's proposition as ridiculous under the circumstances. "Have you a pigeon in your pocket?"

"Why?-how? There's Hercules runs like a hare; stick one of your fellows in the saddle, and I'll warrant him to camp in an hour."

"You are right, Major," said I, catching at the major's proposal; "thank you for the thought. If he could only pass that point in the woods! I hate it, but it is our only chance."

The last sentence I muttered to myself.

"Why do you hate it, Captain?" inquired the major, who had overheard me.

"You might not understand my reasons, Major."

I was thinking upon the disgrace of being trapped as I was, and on my first scout, too.

"Who will volunteer to ride an express to camp?" I inquired, addressing the men.

Twenty of them leaped out simultaneously.

"Which of you remembers the course, that you could follow it in a gallop?" I asked.

The Frenchman, Raoul, stood forth, touching his cap.

"I know a shorter one, Captain, by Mata Cordera."

"Ha! Raoul, you know the country. You are the man."

I now remembered that this man joined us at Sacrificios, just after the landing of the expedition. He had been living in the country previous to our arrival, and was well acquainted with it.

"Are you a good horseman?" I inquired.

"I have seen five years of cavalry service."

"True. Do you think you can pass them? They are nearly in your track."

"As we entered the prairie, Captain; but my route will lie past this motte to the left."

"That will give you several points. Do not stop a moment after you have mounted, or they will take the hint and intercept you."

"With the red horse there will be no danger, Captain."

"Leave your gun; take these pistols. Ha! you have a pair in the holsters. See if they are loaded. These spurs-so-cut loose that heavy piece from the saddle: the cloak, too; you must have nothing to encumber you. When you come near the camp, leave your horse in the chaparral. Give this to Colonel C."

I wrote the following words on a scrap of paper:-

"Dear Colonel,

"Two hundred will be enough. Could they be stolen out after night? If so, all will be well-if it gets abroad...

"Yours,

"H.H."

As I handed the paper to Raoul, I whispered in his ear-

"To Colonel C's own hand. Privately, Raoul-privately, do you hear?"

Colonel C. was my friend, and I knew that he would send aprivate party to my rescue.

"I understand, Captain," was the answer of Raoul.

"Ready, then! now mount and be off."

The Frenchman sprang nimbly to the saddle, and, driving his spurs into the flanks of his horse, shot out from the pen like a bolt of lightning.

For the first three hundred yards or so he galloped directly towards the guerilleros. These stood leaning upon their saddles, or lay stretched along the green-sward. Seeing a single horseman riding towards them, few of them moved, believing him to be some messenger sent to treat for our surrender.

Suddenly the Frenchman swerved from his direct course, and went sweeping around them in the curve of an ellipse.

They now perceived theruse , and with a yell leaped into their saddles. Some fired their escopettes; others, unwinding their lazos, started in pursuit.

Raoul had by this time set Hercules's head for the clump of timber which he had taken as his guide, and now kept on in a track almost rectilinear. Could he but reach the motte or clump in safety, he knew that there were straggling trees beyond, and these would secure him in some measure from the lazos of his pursuers.

We stood watching his progress with breathless silence. Our lives depended on his escape. A crowd of the guerilleros was between him and us; but we could still see the green jacket of the soldier, and the great red flanks of Hercules, as he bounded on towards the edge of the woods. Then we saw the lazos launched out, and spinning around Raoul's head, and straggling shots were fired; and we fancied at one time that our comrade sprang up in the saddle, as if he had been hit. Then he appeared again, all safe, rounding the little islet of timber, and the next moment he was gone from our sight. There followed a while of suspense-of terrible suspense-for the motte hid from view both pursuers and pursued. Every eye was straining towards the point where the horseman had disappeared, when Lincoln, who had climbed to the top of the rancho, cried out:

"He's safe, Cap'n! The dod-rotted skunks air kummin 'ithout him."

It was true. A minute after, the horsemen appeared round the motte, riding slowly back, with that air and attitude that betoken disappointment.

Note 1. Troop of guerillas, who in Spanish are properlyguerilleros .

* * *

I entered my chamber-to sleep? No. And yet it contained a bed fit for Morpheus-a bed canopied and curtained with cloth from the looms of Damascus: shining rods roofed upwards, that met in an ornamental design, where the god of sleep, fanned by virgins of silver, reclined upon a couch of roses.

I drew aside the curtains-a bank of snow-pillows, as if prepared for the cheek of a beautiful bride. I had not slept in a bed for two months. A close crib in a transport ship-a "shake-down" among the scorpions and spiders of Lobos-a single blanket among the sand-hills, where it was not unusual to wake up half-buried by the drift.

These were mysouvenirs . Fancy the prospect! It certainly invited repose; and yet I was in no humour to sleep. My brain was in a whirl. The strange incidents of the day-some of them were mysterious-crowded into my mind. My whole system, mental as well as physical, was flushed; and thought followed thought with nervous rapidity.

My heart shared the excitement-chords long silent had been touched-the divine element was fairly enthroned. I was in love!

It was not the first passion of my life, and I easily recognised it. Even jealousy had begun to distil its poison-"Don Santiago!"

I was standing in front of a large mirror, when I noticed two small miniatures hanging against the wall-one on each side of the glass.

I bent over to examine, first, that which hung upon the right. I gazed with emotion. They wereher features; "and yet," thought I, "the painter has not flattered her; it might better represent her ten years hence: still, the likeness is there. Stupid artist!" I turned to the other. "Her fair sister, no doubt. Gracious heaven! Do my eyes deceive me? No, the black wavy hair-the arching brows-the sinister lip- Dubrosc!"

A sharp pang shot through my heart. I looked at the picture again and again with a kind of incredulous bewilderment; but every fresh examination only strengthened conviction. "There is no mistaking those features-they are his!" Paralysed with the shock, I sank into a chair, my heart filled with the most painful emotions.

For some moments I was unable to think, much less to act.

"What can it mean? Is this accomplished villain a fiend?-the fiend of my existence?-thus to cross me at every point, perhaps in the end to-."

Our mutual dislike at first meeting-Lobos-his reappearance upon the sand-hills, the mystery of his passing the lines and again appearing with the guerilla-all came forcibly upon my recollection; and now I seized the lamp and rushed back to the pictures.

"Yes, I amnot mistaken; it is he-it is she, her features-all-all. And thus, too!-the position-side by side-counterparts! There are no others on the wall; matched-mated-perhaps betrothed! His name, too, Don Emilio! The American who taught them English! His is Emile-the voice on the island cried `Emile!' Oh, the coincidence is complete! This villain, handsome and accomplished as he is, has been here before me! Betrothed-perhaps married-perhaps-Torture! horrible!"

I reeled back to my chair, dashing the lamp recklessly upon the table. I know not how long I sat, but a world of wintry thoughts passed through my heart and brain. A clock striking from a large picture awoke me from my reverie. I did not count the hours. Music began to play behind the picture. It was a sad, sweet air, that chimed with my feelings, and to some extent soothed them. I rose at length, and, hastily undressing, threw myself upon the bed, mentally resolving to forget all-to forget that I had ever seen her.

"I will rise early-return to camp without meeting her, and, once there, my duties will drive away this painful fancy. The drum and the fife and the roar of the cannon will drown remembrance. Ha! it was only a passing thought at best-the hallucination of a moment. I shall easily get rid of it. Ha! ha!"

I laid my fevered cheek upon the soft, cold pillow. I felt composed- almost happy.

"A Creole of New Orleans! How could he have been here? Oh! have I not the explanation already? Why should I dwell on it?"

Ah, jealous heart-it is easy to say "forget!"

I tried to prevent my thoughts from returning to this theme. I directed them to a thousand things: to the ships-to the landing-to the army-to the soldiers-to the buttons upon their jackets and the swabs upon their shoulders-to everything I could think of: all in vain. Back, back, back! in painful throes it came, and my heart throbbed, and my brain burned with bitter memories freshly awakened.

I turned and tossed upon my couch for many a long hour. The clock in the picture struck, and played the same music again and again, still soothing me as before. Even despair has its moments of respite; and, worn with fatigue, mental as well as physical, I listened to the sad, sweet strain, until it died away into my dreams.

* * *

I overtook my companions as they were entering the woods. Clayley, who had been looking back from time to time, brushed alongside, as if wishing to enter into conversation.

"Hard work, Captain, to leave such quarters. By Jove! I could have stayed for ever."

"Come, Clayley-you are in love."

"Yes; they who live in glass houses-. Oh! if I could only speak the lingo as you do!"

I could not help smiling, for I had overheard him through the trees making the most he could of his partner's broken English. I was curious to know how he had sped, and whether he had been as `quick upon the trigger' as myself. My curiosity was soon relieved.

"I tell you, Captain," he continued, "if I could only have talked it, I would have put the question on the spot. I did try to get a `yes' or a `no' out of her; but she either couldn't or wouldn't understand me. It was all bad luck."

"Could you not make her understand you? Surely she knows English enough for that?"

"I thought so too; but when I spoke about love she only laughed and slapped me on the face with her fan. Oh, no; the thing must be done in Spanish, that's plain; and you see I am going to set about it in earnest. She loaned me these."

Saying this, he pulled out of the crown of his foraging-cap a couple of small volumes, which I recognised as a Spanish grammar and dictionary. I could not resist laughing aloud.

"Comrade, you will find the best dictionary to be the lady herself."

"That's true; but how the deuce are we to get back again? A mule-hunt don't happen every day."

"I fancy there will be some difficulty in it."

I had already thought of this. It was no easy matter to steal away from camp-one's brother-officers are so solicitous about your appearance at drills and parades. Don Cosme's rancho was at least ten miles from the lines, and the road would not be the safest for the solitary lover. The prospect of frequent returns was not at all flattering.

"Can't we steal out at night?" suggested Clayley. "I think we might mount half a dozen of our fellows, and do it snugly. What do you say, Captain?"

"Clayley, I cannot return without this brother. I have almost given my word to that effect."

"You have? That is bad! I fear there is no prospect of getting him out as you propose."

My companion's prophetic foreboding proved but too correct, for on nearing the camp we were met by an aide-de-camp of the commander-in-chief, who informed me that, on that very morning, all communication between the foreign ships of war and the besieged city had been prohibited.

Don Cosme's journey, then, would be in vain. I explained this, advising him to return to his family.

"Do not make it known-say that some time is required, and you have left the matter in my hands. Be assured I shall be among the first to enter the city, and I shall find the boy, and bring him to his mother in safety."

This was the only consolation I could offer.

"You are kind, Capitan-very kind; but I know that nothing can now be done. We can only hope and pray."

The old man had dropped into a bent attitude, his countenance marked by the deepest melancholy.

Taking the Frenchman, Raoul, along with me, I rode back until I had placed him beyond the danger of the straggling plunderer, when we shook hands and parted. As he left me, I turned to look after him. He still sat in that attitude that betokens deep dejection, his shoulders bent forward over the neck of his mule, while he gazed vacantly on the path. My heart sank at the spectacle, and, sad and dispirited, I rode at a lagging pace towards the camp.

Not a shot had as yet been fired against the town, but our batteries were nearly perfected, and several mortars were mounted and ready to fling in their deadly missiles. I knew that every shot and shell would carry death into the devoted city, for there was not a point within its walls out of range of a ten-inch howitzer. Women and children must perish along with armed soldiers; and the boy-he, too, might be a victim. Would this be the tidings I should carry to his home? And how should I be received by her with such a tale upon my lips? Already had I sent back a sorrowing father.

"Is there no way to save him, Raoul?"

"Captain?" inquired the man, starting at the vehemence of my manner.

A sudden thought had occurred to me.

"Are you well acquainted with Vera Cruz?"

"I know every street, Captain."

"Where do those arches lead that open from the sea? There is one on each side of the mole."

I had observed these when visiting a friend, an officer of the navy, on board his ship.

"They are conductors, Captain, to carry off the overflow of the sea after a norther. They lead under the city, opening at various places. I have had the pleasure of passing through them."

"Ha! How?"

"On a little smuggling expedition."

"It is possible, then, to reach the town by these?"

"Nothing easier, unless they may have a guard at the mouth; but that is not likely. They would not dream of anyone's making the attempt."

"How wouldyou like to make it?"

"If the Captain wishes it, I will bring him a bottle ofeau-de-vie from the Cafe de Santa Anna."

"I do not wish you to go alone. I would accompany you."

"Think of it, Captain; there is risk foryou in such an undertaking. I may go safely. No one knows that I have joined you, I believe. If you are taken-."

"Yes, yes; I know well the result."

"The risk is not great, either," continued the Frenchman, in a half-soliloquy. "Disguised as Mexicans, we might do it; you speak the language as well as I. If you wish it, Captain-."

"I do."

"I am ready, then."

I knew the fellow well: one of those dare-devil spirits, ready for anything that promised adventure-a child of fortune-a stray waif tumbling about upon the waves of chance-gifted with head and heart of no common order-ignorant of books, yet educated in experience. There was a dash of the heroic in his character that had won my admiration, and I was fond of his company.

It was a desperate adventure-I knew that; but I felt stronger interest than common in the fate of this boy. My own future fate, too, was in a great degree connected with his safety. There was something in the very danger that lured me on to tempt it. I felt that it would be adding another chapter to a life which I have termed "adventurous."

* * *

At night Raoul and I, disguised in the leathern dresses of two rancheros, stole round the lines, and reached Punta Hornos, a point beyond our own pickets. Here we "took the water", wading waist-deep.

This was about ten o'clock. The tide was just setting out, and the night, by good fortune, was as dark as pitch.

As the swell rolled in we were buried to the neck, and when it rolled back again we bent forward; so that at no time could much of our bodies be seen above the surface.

In this manner, half wading, half swimming, we kept up to the town.

It was a toilsome journey, but the water was warm, and the sand on the bottom firm and level. We were strengthened-I at least-by hope and the knowledge of danger. Doubtless my companion felt the latter stimulant as much as I.

We soon reached the battlements of Santiago, where we proceeded with increased caution. We could see the sentry up against the sky, pacing along the parapet. His shrill cry startled us. We thought we had been discovered. The darkness alone prevented this.

At length we passed him, and came opposite the city, whose battlements rested upon the water's edge.

The tide was at ebb, and a bed of black, weed-covered rocks lay between the sea and the bastion.

We approached these with caution, and, crawling over the slippery boulders, after a hundred yards or so found ourselves in the entrance of one of the conductors.

Here we halted to rest ourselves, sitting down upon a ledge of rock. We were in no more danger here than in our own tents, yet within twenty feet were men who, had they known our proximity, would have strung us up like a pair of dogs.

But our danger was far from lying at this end of the adventure.

After a rest of half an hour we kept up into the conductor. My companion seemed perfectly at home in this subterranean passage, walking along as boldly as if it had been brilliantly lighted with gas.

After proceeding some distance we approached a grating, where a light shot in from above.

"Can we pass out here?" I inquired.