The Red Lure

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER XXV THE BATTLE OF RIO HONDO

  The battle of Rio Hondo will probably never be recorded on the printedpages of the history of Honduras or Mexico, but to the last day of hislife it will remain indelibly stamped on Pant's memory.

  As he caught the white gleam of machetes against the morning sky, manysearching questions invaded his mind. He was about to engage in a battlethat might mean the death of some faithful Carib. Was there yet anopportunity for parley, for compromise? No! It was too late. Yet, intheir previous actions had there been blunders? Had he been too hasty?Could the fight have been avoided? These questions he could not fullyanswer; all he could say was that he had believed himself to be actingfor the good of all.

  "As for compromise," he told himself stoutly, "there can be no compromisewith evil. This man Daego hesitates at nothing that he may gain a littlemore wealth, wealth for which he has no need. The men we must fight havesold their souls to him." Having thus put himself at peace with his ownmind, he set calmly about the task of posting his men.

  The purpose of the raiders was to break up his raft. If they could butsever the encircling boom, his logs would be set free, each to find itsseparate way to the ocean. They would then be lost to him forever.

  One anxious glance he cast toward the approaching boats. One thing hefeared most of all,--firearms.

  "He wouldn't dare," Pant told himself, as no rifle or pistol appeared inthe uplifted hands. "A fight between crews is one thing; wholesaleslaughter quite another. The laws of Great Britain are strict, herofficers tireless."

  His eyes gleamed with a touch of pride as he surveyed his small army ofdefense. What stalwart fellows they were! How their dark arms gleamed inthe sun! From the belt of each hung a machete. These they had beenordered to use only as a last resort. By the side of each, grounded likea rifle, was a stout six-foot mahogany pike-pole. He had taught them thelast trick of offense and defense with these weapons.

  So they waited as on came the invading host. In the hands of some he sawthe white gleam of sapodilla axe handles. With these axes they wouldattempt to loosen a chain of the boom or chop a log of it in two. Othersbalanced heavy sledges on the edge of their boats. With these they hopedto sever the chains. Their machetes were for defense. They waved them tointimidate the Caribs.

  "Not so easily done," Pant smiled grimly as his Caribs sent back aringing cry of defiance.

  "Don't let a man of them board us," was the last word Pant passed alongthe line. "If they gain a footing on the raft we're lost. If one getsaboard, double on him and pitch him overboard."

  As the dark line advanced it spread out fan-shape; then, with everywild-eyed Spaniard of them all splitting his lungs in a savage yell, theyshot their crafts alongside.

  With drawn machetes they leaped for the first mahogany logs that layagainst the boom. But what was this? As they swung their machetesthreateningly, they received a rain of blows that sent many a machetewhirling through space to find its watery grave beneath the black waters.

  Against such an offensive they were not able to stand. Seizing theirpaddles, they backed away to a respectful distance, there to hold acouncil of war.

  The result of this council Pant read as if it were an open book. Withmachetes sheathed, but with axes and sledges at hand, the enemy spreadout to advance upon the raft from every side. By this Pant judged thatthey hoped to scatter his men and to effect a break in the boom thatwould not only set his logs free, but throw his Caribs into the river,there to fight for their lives against pitching, grinding logs andlurking alligators.

  One move he had not anticipated became apparent soon enough. The instanttheir boats touched, as the Caribs rushed at them with their mahoganypikes, the Spaniards who were not armed with sledges and axes did theirbest to seize the pikes and wrest them from the Caribs. In this, here andthere, they were successful, and always in the corner where thisoccurred, the tide began to turn. It was one thing to prod and beat aSpaniard; quite another to be prodden and beaten by him. In the meantime,keen oars flashed here and there. There came the disheartening chop-chopof axes and the thud of sledges that told that at any moment the boommight be broken, the battle lost.

  Heroic work was going on at every point. Outnumbered almost two to one,the Caribs fought valiantly. With their wild shouts forever on theirlips, they seized fresh pikes when one was lost and fought with renewedvigor.

  Tivoli, their chief, seemed everywhere at once. His great strength servedhim well. Here, where a sledge was battering dangerously at a chain, hemade a mighty thrust, swinging his pike sidewise at a Spaniard's head.The sledge splashed into the water. Danger at this point was at an end.Here an axe swung in air to meet with Tivoli's well aimed pike and gospinning through air to join the sledge.

  But for all this, the battle was going badly. Here and there a chain wasbadly battered and in several places a log of the boom was half cutthrough. Seeing his men outnumbered where ten Spaniards crowded a singledugout, Pant, whose slight strength had lost him his pike at the veryonset, seized a pike aimed at his head and, gripping hard, executed aflying pole vault right over the heads of the enemy and into the boomingwaters.

  The result was all that could be hoped for. The Spaniard, who still clungto the pike, was dragged half out of the dugout, whereupon that unstablecraft promptly capsized, pitching ten lusty attackers, axes, sledges andall, into the river.

  Tivoli, too, lost his pike. Angered at this victory on the part of anenemy, he watched his chance and when the Spaniard swung his pike to oneside, with bare hands and unarmed, Tivoli rushed at him and rained suchblows on his head as drove him to drop his pike and leap into the river.

  This much for scattered conflicts. Victory here and there along the line;more than one Spaniard in the river; but for all that, here and there theboom was being dangerously weakened. The battle was going badly.

  "Only a matter of time," thought Pant, as he struggled back to the raft."A half hour; perhaps less. Then our work is all undone!"

  * * * * * * * *

  Just as the storm came to an end and morning broke, Johnny Thompson,still blindfolded and riding among the Mayas, felt his boat swervesharply to the right and enter a small creek where overhanging branchesswept the awnings over the boats.

  They had not gone far up this stream before their boat bumped the bankand they were helped to disembark.

  Imagine their surprise and joy when someone, very short, very laughinglytugged away the cloths that blinded them and permitted them for the firsttime in two days to see.

  "See!" exclaimed the princess, for it was she who had unbound their eyes."See what a beautiful world we have brought you to!"

  It was indeed a beautiful world. All a-glitter with raindrops flashing inthe sun, palms and giant tropical ferns had never seemed so lovely asnow.

  Birds sang their best. Even the screaming parrots, that they might not beentirely out of harmony, appeared to soften their discordant notes.

  But into this symphony there crept a wildly disturbing sound. Dim,indistinct, yet unmistakable, there came the noise of battle.

  At the first sound of it, Johnny Thompson glanced wildly about him. Then,having sighted down the creek a familiar bend in the river, he exclaimed:

  "It's Daego. The battle is on! They are not a mile from here. I must go!"

  Seizing the prow of a boat, he pushed it into the stream, sprang in,seized a paddle, and would have been away, single-handed, to enter theconflict.

  They dragged him back. The old chief tried to learn, from Johnny's wildflinging arms, what it was all about. In the end he appeared tounderstand, for, after instructing his men to look to their weapons, heordered them into their boats. Once more the Mayas, a hundred strong,swept down the river, grim, silent, determined.

  So it happened that a second time that day Pant saw the river above hisraft lined with boats.

  "Friends or enemies?" he thought. "Let them come. Without aid we lose.More of th
e enemy cannot matter."

  As for Daego's men, they watched the on-coming fleet with consternation.Daego had no men up the river. They knew that. Who, then, were these?

  As the fleet came closer, a figure standing in the prow of the foremostboat became plainly visible. He was waving his arms and shouting wildly.It was Johnny.

  One of Daego's keen-eyed Spaniards was the first to recognize him. With awild cry of fear he dashed for his pit-pan.

  "There is the man who has died," he shouted. "His ghost has been seenmany times above the treetops. Now he comes back. He is a ghost. Who arethese with him? They have gleaming spears. They, too, are ghosts." So hethought, and prepared to flee.

  So thought they all. To a man they dropped oar, maul, pike, pole ormachete, and turned to flee.

  When Johnny's boat bumped the raft there was not a Spaniard withingunshot.

  But what was this? As he turned about to look at his companions in theboat he saw only Roderick and Jean. By some skillful trick of boatmanshipor swimming, the Maya paddlers had left the boat. Now, some distanceaway, the Maya princess was waving them farewell as the remaining boatswent speeding back up the river.

  "That's funny," said Johnny.

  "How--how strange and ghost-like!" murmured Jean.

  "Nothing ghost-like about this," said Johnny, as he patted his pack whichheld the rare Maya god.

  The joyful reunion that followed was cut short by the pressing businessof getting the log boom started down the river. The motor boat wasbrought around, the Carib sail boats hitched on behind, and they wereaway.

  Hardgrave, who knew Jean's father and the location of his camp, advisedher and Roderick to go with them down the river. This advice was notunwelcome, especially to Johnny, who felt that he could never see toomuch of the bonny Scotch girl.

  They had made their slow way down two-thirds of the distance when astrange procession caught up with and passed them. Motor boats, launches,flatboats, and pit-pans moved by. Each was loaded to capacity with thestrangest cargoes. Here were four tractors on a flat-boat; there manywheels that might have belonged to cannons, but did belong to loggingwagons; here a pit-pan loaded high with great vats and kettles that hadonce held the boiling sap of the sapodilla tree. So they drifted by. Itwas like the passing of a defeated army. And so it was. The defeated kingof the Black River was leaving the Rio Hondo forever.

  Two weeks later, with his treasure of red lure safely piled at thewaterfront in Belize, Johnny met his millionaire friend, RoderickGrayson, at the dock as a United Fruit steamer's launch came in. Threedays later, in Johnny's room at the hotel, Grayson met the Governor ofQuintanaroo and together they drew up contracts which were to mean much,not only to Quintanaroo and Grayson, but to Johnny and Pant as well. Ineach contract it was agreed that Grayson's company was to pay the boys aroyalty, a wee bit of a royalty on their entire output and, though thepercentage is small, the output is destined to be large, and there is noreason to believe that the two boys will lack for funds for travel andadventure in the future.

  The rare Maya god found its way to a museum in London. The proceeds fromits sale Johnny insisted upon dividing with Jean. There was talk ofspending the whole of it in a visit to London and the Old World by Jeanand her family, accompanied by Johnny and Pant.

  At about this time, however, Johnny chanced to wander down to thebreakwater, where little boats anchor, and there he met a strangeseafaring man who had a strange tale to tell. And right there began oneof the most unusual adventures that ever befell Johnny Thompson. You willfind it all written down in our next book, "Forbidden Cargoes".

  The Roy J. Snell Books

  Mr. Snell is a versatile writer who knows how to write stories that willplease boys and girls. He has traveled widely, visited manyout-of-the-way corners of the earth, and being a keen observer has foundmaterial for many thrilling stories. His stories are full of adventureand mystery, yet in the weaving of the story there are little threadsupon which are hung lessons in loyalty, honesty, patriotism and rightliving.

  Mr. Snell has created a wide audience among the younger readers ofAmerica. Boy or girl, you are sure to find a Snell book to your liking.His works cover a wide and interesting scope.

  Here are the titles of the Snell Books:

  _Mystery Stories for Boys_

  1. Triple Spies 2. Lost in the Air 3. Panther Eye 4. The Crimson Flash 5. White Fire 6. The Black Schooner 7. The Hidden Trail 8. The Firebug 9. The Red Lure 10. Forbidden Cargoes 11. Johnny Longbow 12. The Rope of Gold 13. The Arrow of Fire 14. The Gray Shadow 15. Riddle of the Storm 16. The Galloping Ghost 17. Whispers at Dawn; or, The Eye 18. Mystery Wings 19. Red Dynamite 20. The Seal of Secrecy 21. The Shadow Passes 22. Sign of the Green Arrow

  _The Radio-Phone Boys' Series_

  1. Curlie Carson Listens In 2. On the Yukon Trail 3. The Desert Patrol 4. The Seagoing Tank 5. The Flying Sub 6. Dark Treasure 7. Whispering Isles 8. Invisible Wall

  _Adventure Stories for Girls_

  1. The Blue Envelope 2. The Cruise of the O'Moo 3. The Secret Mark 4. The Purple Flame 5. The Crimson Thread 6. The Silent Alarm 7. The Thirteenth Ring 8. Witches Cove 9. The Gypsy Shawl 10. Green Eyes 11. The Golden Circle 12. The Magic Curtain 13. Hour of Enchantment 14. The Phantom Violin 15. Gypsy Flight 16. The Crystal Ball 17. A Ticket to Adventure 18. The Third Warning

  Transcriber's Notes

  --Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text--this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.

  --Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.

  --Relocated promotional material to the end of the book, and completed the list of books in the three series (using other sources).