Ahead of the Army

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by William Osborn Stoddard


  CHAPTER VII.

  THE LAND OF THE MONTEZUMAS

  "Father Crawford, do read that newspaper! The war has begun! They arefighting great battles on the Rio Grande! Oh, how I wish you hadn't sentNed to Mexico! He may get killed!"

  She was a woman of middle age, tall, fine-looking, and she was evidentlymuch excited. She was standing at one end of a well-set breakfast table,and was holding out a printed sheet to a gentleman who had been lookingdown at his plate, as if he were asking serious questions of it.

  "My dear," he said, as he took the paper, "I knew it was coming, but Ididn't think it would come so soon as this. I don't really see that Nedis in any danger. Captain Kemp will take care of him."

  "But," she said, "the _Goshhawk_ may be captured."

  "No," replied Mr. Crawford, confidently. "She hasn't sailed acrossprairie to the Rio Grande. There won't be any fighting at Vera Cruz forever so long. There can't be any on the sea, for Mexico has no navy. The_Goshhawk_ is entirely safe, and so is Ned. It'll be a grand experiencefor him."

  "I don't want him to have so much experience at his age," she said,anxiously. "I'd rather he'd be at home,--if there's going to be a war."

  "I've often wished that I could see a war," replied her husband, as heglanced over the black-typed headings of the newspaper columns. "I'vetravelled a good deal in Mexico, and I wanted Ned to learn all he couldof that country. He will hardly have any chance to do so now."

  "He might see too much of it if he were taken prisoner," she exclaimed."I can't bear to think of it! Oh, how I wish he were at home!"

  Mr. Crawford was silent, and again he appeared to be thinking deeply. Hewas not a pale-faced man at any time, but now his color was visiblyincreasing. His face was also changing its expression, and it wore astrong reminder of the look which had come into his son Ned'scountenance when the fever of Mexican exploration took hold of him.People say "like father, like son," and it may be that Ned's readinessfor a trip into the interior belonged to something which had descendedto him from a father who had been willing to educate his son for thesouthern trade by sending him to sea with Captain Kemp. The UnitedStates has had a great many commercial men of that stamp, and there wasa time when almost all the navy the nation possessed was provided by themerchant patriots, who armed and sent out, or themselves commanded, itsfleets of privateers. Very likely the Crawfords and a number of otherAmerican families could point back to as adventurous an ancestry ascould any Spaniard whose forefathers had fought Moors or won estates forthemselves in Mexico or Peru. As for Mrs. Crawford, she was hardly ableto drink her coffee that morning, after reading the newspaper, and shemight have been even more willing to have Ned come home if she had knownwhat had become of the _Goshhawk_, and in what company he was a couple ofhours after she arose from her table.

  Company? That was it. He was now walking along one of the streets ofVera Cruz with a squad of men of whom she would have decidedlydisapproved, but whose character her husband would have understood atsight. Ned's first acquaintance, Pablo, as he called himself, with hisfour comrades, made up so thoroughly Mexican a party at all points thatit was in no danger of being interfered with by the mob. Every member ofthis had seen, often enough, the son of some wealthy landholder from theupland country attended by a sufficient number of his own retainers tokeep him from being plundered, and it was well enough to let him alone.On they went, but it was by a circuitous route and a back street thatthey reached the Tassara place. Even then, they did not enter it by thefront door, but by a path which led down to the stables in the rear ofthe house. No outsider would afterward be able to say that he saw thatparty of men march into the courtyard to be welcomed by Colonel Tassaraand the mysterious personage whom Ned was trying to think of as GeneralZuroaga.

  "He may be of more importance than I had any idea of," said Ned tohimself, "and I wish I knew what was coming next."

  He was not to find out immediately, for Zuroaga motioned him to go oninto the house, while he himself and Tassara remained to talk withPablo and the other machete-bearers.

  Hardly was Ned three steps inside of the dwelling, when he was met bySenora Tassara, apparently in a state of much mental agitation.

  "My dear young friend!" she exclaimed, "I am so glad you have escapedfrom them! Come in. We shall have no regular dinner to-day. You will eatyour luncheon now, however. We are all busy packing up. We must set outfor the country as soon as it is dark. The colonel's enemies arefollowing him like so many wolves! Felicia, my dear, you will see thatSenor Carfora is properly attended to."

  The saucy senorita was standing a little behind her mother, and she nowbeckoned to Ned, as if she had no hostility for him whatever.

  "Come right along in," she said, peremptorily. "I must eat my luncheon,too. I want to hear where you have been, and what you have been doing.Is there any more news from the war? Have your gringo generals beenbeaten again? Tell me all you know!"

  She was evidently in the habit of being obeyed by those around her, andNed felt decidedly obedient, but this was his first intimation that itwas fully noon. Time had passed more rapidly than he had been aware of,for his mind had been too busy to take note of it. He was hungrily readyto obey, however, especially concerning the luncheon, and his first bitof news appeared to please his little hostess exceedingly.

  "Not another ship is in," he told her, "and I don't believe there isgoing to be any war, anyhow, but I saw some of your soldiers. They wereguarding the American consulate from the mob. They were splendid-lookingfellows. Is your father's regiment of that kind of men?"

  "Father's regiment?" she said, angrily. "That's just the difficulty now.He hasn't any soldiers. Those that he had were taken away from him. Sohe must go and gather some more, or President Paredes will say that heis not patriotic. They took his old regiment away from him after he hadmade it a real good one. Tell me about your gringo soldiers. Are there agreat many of them? Do they know how to fight? I don't believe they do."

  She was all on fire about the war and her father's enemies, and Ned wasready to tell her all he knew of the American army, if not a littlemore. At least, he described to her the elegant uniforms which wereworn on parade occasions by the New York City militia regiments,feathers, flags, brass bands, and all, rather than the externalappearance of any martial array that General Taylor was likely to takewith him when he invaded Mexico. Felicia was especially interested inthose magnificent brass bands and wished that she could have some ofthem taken prisoners to come and play in front of her house, but all thewhile they were talking he was glancing furtively around the room. Thishad undergone a remarkable change during his brief absence. The trophiesof arms were all gone, and the wonderful Seville coffee-urn haddisappeared. Perhaps it had walked away, beyond the reach of possiblethieves, and with it may have gone the other silverware of the Tassarafamily. Senorita Felicia's quick eyes had followed his own, for she waswatching him.

  "Yes, Senor Carfora," she said, "it's all gone. The china is all storedaway in the deep cellar. I don't believe they could find it, and if theydid they could not carry it away to melt it up and make dollars of it.That's what they did with all the silver one of my aunts had, exceptsome spoons that were hid in the stable, under the hay. One of therobbers went into the stable to hunt, too, and a good mule kicked himdead. If anybody comes to rob this house while we are gone, I wish hemight be kicked by one of our mules at the hacienda. He would not stealany more."

  Ned had other things to tell her, about the United States forts, troops,and ships of war, and she had stories to tell with excited vivacity thatset forth sadly enough the wretchedly unsettled condition of hercountry, which she appeared to love so well, after all. Troubled as itwas, it was her own land, and she hated its enemies.

  It was a hot, oppressive day, with a promise of greater heat soon tocome, and the weather itself might be a good enough reason why anyfamily should be in a hurry to get out of the _tierra caliente_. As forthe removal of valuable property, Ned had already learned that Vera Cruzwas haunted not only b
y bad characters from the interior, but bydesperadoes from up and down the coast and from the West India Islands.He was not near enough to hear, however, when Zuroaga remarked to hisfriend Tassara:

  "You are right, my dear colonel. The Americans will hold the Texanborder with a strong hand, but if Paredes does not promptly come toterms with them, we shall see a fleet and army at Vera Cruz before long.This is the weak point of our unhappy republic."

  "I think not," replied Tassara, gloomily. "I wish it were a solidnation, as strong as the castle out yonder. Our weak point is that weare cut up into factions, and cannot make use of the strength that wereally have undeveloped. As for anything else, one case of yellow feverwas reported yesterday, and I am informed that his Excellency, PresidentParedes, talks of coming here shortly to confer with Colonel Guerra.That may mean trouble for him, and neither you nor I would wish to bebrought before any such council of war as might be called together."

  "It might not consist altogether of our friends," said Zuroaga. "In mycase, if not in yours, it might be followed quickly by an order for afile of soldiers and a volley of musketry. I should not look for mercyfrom a tiger."

  "On the other hand," responded the colonel, "it would be well for him tobe careful just now. He will need all the strength he can obtain."

  "Humph!" exclaimed Zuroaga. "He will try to leave no living, or, atleast, no unimprisoned enemies behind him when he marches for theborder."

  It was plain that they were not to be numbered among their President'sfriends, whether or not they were altogether just to him. Bloodyseverity in putting down sedition was the long-established custom inMexico, and one man might not be more to blame for it than another. Ithad been handed down from the old days of Spanish rule, and the recordwhich had been made is not by any means pleasant reading.

  When the luncheon was over, the senorita left Ned to himself, appearingto feel somewhat more friendly than at first, but still considering himas a gringo and a foreigner. She said she had some things to pack up,and he went to look after his own. These did not require much packing,and before long he had again found his way out to the courtyard and thestables. These were indeed the most interesting spots about the place,for they contained all the men, the horses, and the mules. Ned shortlyconcluded that here were also gathered most of the firearms and at leasta dozen of the wildest kind of Mexican Indians, all ragged and allbarefooted. Preparations for a journey were going forward under SenoraTassara's direction, and Ned pretty quickly understood that the menwere a great deal more afraid of her than they were of her husband. Hefelt so himself, and he instantly got out of her way, as she told him todo, when he unwisely undertook to help her with her packing.

  The horses were of several sorts and sizes, and more like them wereshortly brought in. One large spring wagon and a covered carryallcarriage were in good order. Both were of American manufacture, and sowas the harness of the teams which were to draw them. Ned was feeling acertain degree of curiosity as to what kind of carriage was to carryhim, when Senor Zuroaga beckoned him to one side and said:

  "We shall be with Colonel Tassara's party only the first day. But I havebeen thinking. When we were on the _Goshhawk_, you told me that you hadnever ridden a horse in your life----"

  "Why, I'm a city boy," interrupted Ned. "There isn't any horsebackriding done there. I'd rather go on wheels."

  "Of course you would," laughed Zuroaga. "But there won't be any use forwheels on some of the roads I am to follow. I've picked you out a ponythat you can manage, though, and you will soon learn. You will have tobe a horseman if you are to travel in Mexico."

  "So father used to tell me," said Ned. "He can ride anything. Which ofthese is my horse? They all look skittish----"

  "Neither of these would do for you," replied the senor. "But listen tome sharply. Twice you have called me general. Don't do it again until weare beyond the mountains. I'm only a plain senor in all this region ofthe country. I only hope that some men in Vera Cruz do not already knowthat I am here. If they did, I am afraid I should not get out so easily.This is your horse. He is a good one."

  Hitched to a post near the wall was a fat, undersized animal, black asjet, and with more mane and tail than was at all reasonable. He carrieda Mexican saddle with wooden stirrups and a tremendous curb-bit bridle.In front of the saddle were pistol holsters, and behind it hung anammunition case, as if Ned were about to become a trooper. He went toexamine the holsters, and found that each of them contained a largehorse-pistol with a flintlock. He also found powder and bullets in thecase, and he wondered whether or not he would ever be able to shootanybody with one of those heavy, long-barrelled things without havingsomething to rest it on.

  "I practised for an hour once in a pistol-gallery," he remarked, "but itwasn't with anything like that."

  "You didn't hit centre even then, eh?" laughed the senor. "Well, notmany men can do much with them, but they are better than nothing. Theyare too heavy for a hand like yours. Here is your machete. Put it on."

  Ned felt a queer tingle all over him, as he took the weapon and hitchedit at his belt. Then he drew it from the sheath and looked at it,swinging it up and down to feel its weight. It was a straight, one-edgedblade, with a sharp point, and a brass basket hilt, and he remarked:

  "Senor Zuroaga, I could hit with that, I guess."

  His face had flushed fiery red, and it could be seen, from his handlingof the machete, that his muscles were unusually strong for his size andage. The senor nodded his approbation, as he remarked:

  "I think you will do. There is fight in you, but I hope we shall have nofighting to do just now. I shall try to find a safe road home."

  "A fellow could cut down bushes with this thing," said Ned.

  "That's exactly what our rancheros use them for," replied the senor."They will do almost anything with a machete. They will cut their waythrough thick chaparral, kill and cut up beef cattle, split wood, fightmen or animals, and on the whole it's about the most useful tool thereis in a Mexican camp or hacienda."

  "What's that?" asked Ned.

  "Any kind of farm with a house on it," said the senor. "You may have tolearn all about haciendas before you get home."

  "Just what I'd like to do," said Ned. "I'll learn how to ride, too. Howsoon are we to set out?"

  "Not till after dark," said the senor. "But you need not be in any hurryto get into the saddle. You will have quite enough of it before you getout of it again. There is a long ride before us to-night."

  "I'm ready," replied Ned, but nevertheless he looked at that Mexicansaddle with doubtful eyes, as if he were thinking that it might possiblyprove to be a place of trial for a beginner.

  At that very hour there were several gentlemen in uniform closeted withColonel Guerra in one of the rooms of the Castle of San Juan de Ulua.The colonel appeared to have been giving them a detailed report of thecondition of the fortress and of its means for defence, whether or nothe had stated exactly the amount of the ammunition brought him by theill-fated _Goshhawk_. Other subjects of conversation must now have comeup, however, for one of them arose with great dignity of manner,remarking:

  "My dear colonel, I am glad that I shall be able to make so encouraginga report to his Excellency. As for Colonel Tassara, we shall serve ourwarrant upon him some time to-morrow. We are informed that, beyond adoubt, the traitor Zuroaga intends to return from Europe shortly. Assure as he does, he will be engaged in dangerous intrigues against theexisting order of things, and the good of the country requires that heshall be brought to justice before he can put any of his nefarious plansin operation. At the same time, we are assured that the invaders uponthe Rio Grande will soon be defeated yet more thoroughly."

  All the rest had arisen while he was speaking, and one of them, a fat,short man in a brilliant uniform, added, enthusiastically:

  "We feel that we can rely upon you, Colonel Guerra. We pity the gringosif they should attempt to beleaguer this impregnable fortress. For myown part, I believe that Colonel Tassara's court martial can have buton
e result. His disobedience must be paid for with his life. Allconspirators like Zuroaga should be shot as soon as they are captured.This is not a time, my friends, for undue leniency."

  "Gentlemen," responded Colonel Guerra with graceful courtesy, "I bid youall a brief farewell with sincere regret. Your visit has given meunmixed satisfaction. Do not forget that all of you are to dine with meto-morrow. From my very heart I can echo your noble sentiments of valorand patriotism and of devotion to our beloved commander-in-chief, hisheroic Excellency, President Paredes."

  Then followed smiles and handshakings of mutual confidence all around,and the visiting officers took their departure. Hardly had the doorclosed behind them, however, before Colonel Guerra again sat down,hoarsely muttering between his set teeth:

  "The snake-hearted villains! What they really hoped for was to find thefort and garrison in bad condition and unprovided, so that they mightruin me. They want my disgrace and removal, to make room for one ofthem. I don't believe they will catch either Tassara or Zuroaga thistime. The colonel will soon raise his new regiment, and my old friendwill be down in Oaxaca in safety, waiting for the hour that is to come.Paredes would give something to see my last letter from Santa Anna."

  So there were many plots and counterplots, and the politest men mightnot be always what they seemed.

 

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