CHAPTER XI.
A NARROW ESCAPE.
"It is a great honour," exclaimed Jose, "and you should feel proud."
I had just returned from an interview with the colonel, who had askedme to undertake for a short time the duties of his private secretary.It seemed a simple task then, but afterwards I regarded it differently.For the next three weeks I was attached to the colonel, who took mewith him everywhere. A secretary is generally supposed to write, butmy work consisted in riding. Day after day, from morning till night,we were on horseback, now travelling over sandy deserts to theseashore, again penetrating into the heart of the mountains--hungry,thirsty, and tired, and always in danger of falling into the hands ofthe enemy.
As a measure of precaution our little force retired to Tacna, where,much to my satisfaction, the colonel received from Lima news of anarmistice. This, of course, extended to all parts of the country; butI was mistaken in thinking it would increase my leisure, as my time wasstill kept fully occupied.
In one way this was a good thing, as it kept me from brooding overSantiago's story, though even at the busiest times the thought of myfather's fate would creep into my mind. I saw nothing of Jose, who hadbeen left behind with some Indians to hold a mountain pass, butoccasionally I paid a brief visit to the Spanish prisoners for a chatwith the friendly major.
We had been at Tacna a month, when one evening Colonel Miller saidabruptly: "Crawford, the armistice is at an end, and we must retreat.Tell Videla to send the stores and the sick to Arica the first thing inthe morning; then carry this order to Ilo. You will find three smallbrigs there; they are to sail at once for Arica. Take Castro the guidewith you, and rejoin me on the march to Arica."
"Very good, sir," I replied, though my words belied my feelings.However, I went out, gave Videla the colonel's message, and hunted upthe guide.
Castro was an educated Indian, trained by one of the missionaries, anda very decent fellow. I found him sound asleep; but he rose at once,looked to see if his bag of coca was full, loaded his pistols, andsaddled his horse.
"A pleasant night for a ride, lieutenant,"--the colonel had given methat rank,--"and every yard will take us further from the Spaniards. Ihear that La Hera is getting ready to swoop."
"He will find his pigeon a hawk if he comes too close," I answered,laughing. "Bring your horse, and wait for me at the hospital."
The night was still young, and many people, civilians and military,were in the street, talking in excited whispers. It was plain thatthey had heard of La Hera's approach, and were discussing what theyknew of the colonel's plans.
Soon, however, the town was left behind, and we had fairly started onour journey. There was no danger in it, except that of getting lost,which, with Castro for a guide, was not likely to happen. He knew thedistrict as well as, perhaps better than, I knew the streets of Lima.
We jogged along quietly till midnight, not wishing to tire the animals,and then stopped near the edge of a sandy desert for an hour's rest.By this time I had begun to hate the very sight of sand; it seemed tome more dreary and pitiless than the stoniest of barren ground. Castrodid not mind in the least, but lay on his back looking at the starrysky and placidly chewing his coca.
"Come, lieutenant," said he briskly at the end of an hour, "it is timeto mount;" and we were soon plodding on as patiently as before.
It was nine o'clock when we finally arrived at Ilo. It may have beenowing to my own tired state, but I thought I had never seen such amiserable and desolate spot in all my life. The houses were wretchedmud-built hovels, and the few people in the place looked woebegonebeyond belief.
The three brigs were in keeping with the village, being old andworm-eaten, and the craziest craft imaginable. I would not have sailedone across a pond. However, I sought out the commander of this raggedsquadron, and gave him the colonel's order.
On reading it his face brightened, and he declared his intention ofrunning out to sea that very afternoon.
"He doesn't look much of a hero," observed Castro; "but," with anexpressive glance at the three floating coffins, "I imagine there arefew braver men in Peru."
"One need not be brave to seize any chance of getting away from thisdepressing place," said I. "I believe I could easily take the risk ofbeing drowned if there were no other way of escape."
"You will have the risk, lieutenant, if we are to go afloat in thesebrigs; but my opinion is that the bottoms will drop out of them beforethey reach Arica."
"In that case we must either beat La Hera or be annihilated."
"That's what it looks like," replied Castro coolly.
We stabled our horses in a tumble-down shed, fed and watered them, and,as it was impossible to leave till they were rested, lay down to snatcha brief sleep on the ground. We were invited to use the floor of ahovel for a couch, but after glancing at it, declined with greatpoliteness and many sonorous words of thanks.
When we awoke the brigs had disappeared, and a roaring wind wassweeping down from the north.
"They'll never make headway against that," remarked Castro. "We canreturn to the colonel and tell him his brigs are at the bottom of thesea. There will be a pretty tune played presently, and La Hera willprovide the music."
To a sailor, perhaps, the danger would not have seemed formidable; butstanding on that desolate beach, listening to the hurricane rush of thewind, I could not but think Castro was right. And if indeed he hadprophesied truly, then was our little force in sad straits. Burdenedwith sick, hampered by fleeing patriots, encumbered by prisoners, withhalf his troops weakened as usual by ague, the English colonel couldneither fight nor flee. What, then, could he do? By this time everyone knew him too well to dream he would surrender.
"Castro," said I, "we carry bad news, and bad news flies apace. Let uskeep up the reputation of the old proverb. Half an hour or so may makeall the difference in the world."
He made a grimace as if to say that a few minutes more or less wouldmatter little; but he saddled his horse promptly, nevertheless, and wasready to start as soon as I.
"I reckon," he said, "that we may strike the road from Tacna to Aricaby midnight to-morrow, unless our animals founder by the way. Can youtrust your horse?"
"The colonel selected him."
"That ought to be sufficient warrant. The chief knows a horse, thoughhe will ride in the absurd English style."
There were few men in the country who would have cared to cutthemselves adrift as Castro did on this ride of ours to intercept themarching Patriots. His only guides were those he could interpret fromnature. While daylight lasted, he steered by the sun; at night, by thestars and the faint wind that fanned our faces.
For twenty-four hours, during which time we rested, of course, both forour own sakes and for the sakes of our animals, not one human beingcrossed our path, or even came within sight of us. And during thattime, also, we saw neither bird nor beast, nor any manner of livingthing, save only ourselves and our animals.
And then, quite unexpectedly to me, we came upon an oasis in the drearydesert--a little hamlet with mud-walled hovels, but better than thoseat Ilo, and having patches of cultivated ground enclosed. The nativeshad reclaimed this piece of land by means of the waters of amoderate-sized stream, and lived in almost as great isolation as ifthey had been on Robinson Crusoe's island.
They were neither Patriots nor Royalists, and I doubt much whether theyknew of the struggle going forward; but they had kind hearts, and gaveus a warm welcome, pressing upon us gifts of fruits and vegetables tothe limits of their scanty stock. They found ample forage, too, forthe weary animals, and we stayed there a matter of three hours to restCastro's horse, which had shown symptoms of breaking down.
I seized this opportunity to snatch an hour's sleep; but my guide waskept chattering by the natives, who listened with amazement to hisnews. They knew no Spanish, and could not understand the native patoisI spoke; neither could I understand a word of what they said. As forCastro, I suppose no man in South A
merica had the gift of so manyIndian dialects.
"After all, lieutenant," exclaimed he, as we took leave of this simplecommunity, "I doubt if these people have not the best of life. Theyeat, drink, and are at peace, caring no more for a president than for aking."
"And doing nothing for either," I replied, laughing. "How does thehorse seem now?"
"I think he will do this journey. But if I'm to ride with the colonel,he will have to provide me with another."
Throughout the evening we rode silently side by side, while all aroundus was the awful stillness of a dead world. The sun went down, andpresently the stars gleamed above us, throwing a ghostly light over thesea of sand.
Midnight found us still riding, and another hour passed before Castrodrew rein at the broken track leading from Tacna to Arica. Throwingthe reins over his horse's neck, and jumping down, he examined theground carefully, reading it as skilfully as the student reads aprinted book.
To and fro he went, casting off here and there like a hunting-dog, tillhe was satisfied. Then he returned to me, saying, "Carts have gone byhours since, and the infantry quite recently, but I see no signs ofcavalry."
"They would remain till the last minute, so as to deceive La Hera."
"That is so; but the question is, has the colonel stayed with them? Itis to him we want to give our information."
"The infantry can tell us."
"We shall waste time if he is in the rear, and time is precious."
"Let us separate. You go forward; I will ride toward Tacna."
"It is dangerous, senor."
"You forget that I have been over this route."
"Well, as you will. If the colonel has not passed, I shall return.Keep to the track; do not wander from it either to right or to left."
"All right, Castro; I will take care."
He vaulted to the saddle, wished me a safe journey, and rode off, whileI turned my horse's head in the opposite direction. Fortunately thenight was clear, while the dawn was not far off, so that I had a greatadvantage in steering my way. True, I rode at no great pace, beingboth afraid and unwilling to spur my jaded beast. Now and again I evendismounted and walked at his head to give him some relief.
It was perhaps about three o'clock in the morning. A heavy fog hadarisen, and I was riding with the greatest care, when suddenly I founda musket pointed straight at me, and heard the demand, "Halt, or Ifire!"
The man spoke in Spanish, but his accent showed him to be an Indian,and I hoped he was one of Miller's cavalry detachment. Whistlingsoftly, he was at once joined by a second and a third man, the last ofwhom sharply ordered me to dismount.
At the sound of his voice I laughed aloud, saying, "You post your menwell, Jose, but they have not made a great capture this time. Is thecolonel here?"
"We are all here," said Jose, giving my hand a grip; "but I thought youhad gone to Arica. Is anything wrong?"
"A good deal," I answered, speaking in English, so that the Indiansmight not understand. "I must see Colonel Miller at once."
"Jump down, then. Leave your horse here, and I will take you to him.Mind where you step; the men are all tucked in and sound asleep."
But for the fog, I could by this time have seen my way clearly; as itwas, I could only just distinguish the ponchos enveloping the men'sheads. When the fog lifted, the light showed a more curious spectaclethan most of you have perhaps ever seen. It was the custom, wheneverwe halted in a sandy desert, for each man to scoop out for himself ashallow grave. In this he lay, scraping the loose sand over his bodyfor bed-clothes, and leaving his head, wrapped in his poncho, aboveground. It was, indeed, a most comfortable and delicious bed, as inthose days, or rather nights, I often proved.
The colonel lay buried alive, as it were, like his men; but he sleptlightly, and pushing off his sandy bed-clothes at our approach, hestruggled to his feet.
Pushing off his sandy bed-clothes at our approach, hestruggled to his feet.]
"Who is it?" he asked. "Crawford, where is your guide?"
"Gone another way to look for you, colonel."
"Have the brigs left Ilo?"
"Yes; but both Castro and I doubt if they will reach Arica. They arealtogether crazy, and as soon as they left the harbour a strong galefrom the north, which will drive them out of their course, sprang up."
"You are rather a Job's comforter," laughed the colonel. "I daresaythey will arrive all right. Still," he continued, speaking more tohimself, "everything depends upon their safe arrival--everything! Jumpin, Crawford, and have a nap; I may want you presently."
He went away with Jose, while I got into his bed, pulled the sand overme, and was fast asleep before the two men had gone a dozen yards.
For two whole hours I lay like a log; then a soldier pulled the ponchofrom my head, saying that the colonel waited for me at breakfast. Irose quickly, made my toilet--not an elaborate proceeding, you may besure--and waited on the colonel.
"Sit down," said he, laughing; "it's early in the day for banqueting,but we must feast when we can. I hope you are not blessed with toogood an appetite?"
"I don't think I should feel greatly tempted to indulge much atpresent," I replied, with a grimace at the dried meat I was cutting."Indigestion would only too surely follow."
"Then," said he, and his eyes twinkled with merriment, "we will eatsparingly. I am going straight to Arica, and you will ride with me."
"I am afraid I shall have to get you to find me a fresh horse, as myown has broken down, colonel."
Turning to one of the soldiers near, he said, "Ask Major Videla to sendme a good horse at once.--Take your time, Crawford; I am awaiting amessenger from Tacna."
Nearly an hour passed before he was ready, during which time I saddledmy fresh mount, transferred my holsters, and had a chat with Jose. Hetold me they had been compelled to release their prisoners, Santiagoamong them.
"I had no idea you were so hard pressed," I said.
"If La Hera doesn't blunder," answered Jose, "he can sweep us all intohis net. The only thing that saves us now is Miller's skill andreputation. Every one believes he is going to show fight somewherebetween this and the coast."
Presently the colonel came along, accompanied by Major Videla, to whomhe gave final directions; and then, bidding me follow, rode from thecamp. Four miles out we came upon Castro, walking, and leading hishorse, which had fallen dead lame.
"Have you been into Arica?" asked Miller.
"No, colonel; but I have learned some news. There are four finevessels in the roadstead; if you could get them, the troops would besafe."
"Ah!" cried the colonel sharply; and telling Castro to wait for thecavalry, he rode off at a great pace towards Arica. At four o'clock westaggered into the town, and were instantly met by the governor with asorrowful tale. He had secured the use of three vessels, but thecommander of the fourth absolutely refused to be either coaxed orthreatened into lending his assistance.
There was not a moment to be lost, and Colonel Miller, with no otherattendant than myself, ran down to the beach. There we got on a balsa,or raft, which carried us to a launch, whose crew at once took usalongside a fine North American schooner.
Clambering on deck, we found the master, to whom the colonel appliedfor the loan of his vessel. The sour old sea-dog turned a deaf ear.The colonel offered a sum of money that would have bought the schooneroutright at market value; he would have none of it.
Now, it chanced that some of the crew were Englishmen who had servedunder Miller in the Chilian War; and though I did not know that, Icould plainly see how interested they were in the discussion. Thecolonel saw it too, and in a few simple but terse and vigorous words helaid the case before them.
This produced a marked effect. The men growled their approbation, andone sturdy fellow exclaimed stoutly, "I'm not going to see a countrymanof mine hard pushed without helping him. What's your sentiments,mates?"
"The same!" cried they.--"We'll stand by you, colonel. The Spaniardssha
n't cut you off if we can help it."
"Thanks, men," replied Colonel Miller, "and I'll treat you fairly.Neither your master nor you shall have cause to complain."
The skipper, however, was not to be appeased. He threw up his commandand went ashore with us, leaving the mate to navigate the vessel. Itwas rather a high-handed proceeding, perhaps, on the colonel's part,but he was saving his troops from an unavailing fight againstoverwhelming odds.
All that night we worked like slaves. The launches could not comeclose inshore, so that every one and everything had to be transportedto them on balsas. The colonel did not spare himself, and my positionprocured me the honour of standing beside him knee-deep in surf whilehe superintended the embarkation.
Most of the sick were got on board one or other of the four vessels,but the worst cases had to remain in hospital. Then nearly a hundredpeople of the town, who had recently joined the Patriot cause,clamoured for protection, which was, of course, afforded.
In the morning the colonel insisted I should take a rest, but the workcontinued all day, while from time to time scouts came in with the newsthat La Hera was advancing at full speed. At length it was all done;only the colonel and I remained to go on board, and we had just reachedthe launch, when, with a yell and thunder of hoofs, the Royalistcavalry galloped down to the beach.
"Just too late to take their passage," laughed Miller. "What a pity!"
"There's our late prisoner," I cried, standing up in the launch. "Lookat the rascal; he is shaking his sword at us, and laughing."
"He's a fine fellow," remarked the colonel. "I don't grudge him hisliberty."
Taking off my cap, I waved it vigorously; to which Santiago repliedwith a salute; and then, as pursuit was impossible, he led his men backinto the town.
At the Point of the Sword Page 11