The Rifle Rangers

by Reid, Mayne

  An isolated fragment hung lowering above the snowy cone of Orizava, like a huge vampire suspended over his sleeping victim.

  From the great "parent cloud" that rested upon the Sierra Madre, lightning-bolts shot out and forked hither and thither or sank into the detached masses-the messengers of the storm-king bearing his fiery mandates across the sky.

  Away along the horizon of the east moved the yellow pillars of sand, whirled upward by the wind, like vast columnar towers leading to heaven.

  The storm had not yet reached the rancho. The leaves lay motionless under a dark and ominous calm; but the wild screams of many birds-the shrieks of the swans, the discordant notes of the frightened pea-fowl, the chattering of parrots as they sought the shelter of the thick olives in terrified flight-all betokened the speedy advent of some fearful convulsion.

  The rain in large drops fell upon the broad leaves with a soft, plashing sound; and now and then a quick, short puff came snorting along, and, seizing the feathery frondage of the palms, shook them with a spiteful and ruffian energy.

  The long green stripes, after oscillating a moment, would settle down again in graceful and motionless curves.

  A low sound like the "sough" of the sea or the distant falling of water came from the north; while at intervals the hoarse bark of thecoyote and the yelling of terrified monkeys could be heard afar off in the woods.

  "Tapa la casa! tapa la casa!" (Cover the house!) cried Don Cosme as soon as he had fairly got his head above ground. "Anda!-anda con los macates!" (Quick with the cords!) With lightning quickness a roll of palmetto mats came down on all sides of the house, completely covering the bamboo walls, and forming a screen impervious to both wind and rain. This was speedily fastened at all corners, and strong stays were carried out and warped around the trunks of trees. In five minutes the change was complete. The cage-looking structure had disappeared, and a house with walls of yellowpetate stood in its place.

  "Now, Senores, all is secured," said Don Cosme. "Let us return to the drawing-room."

  "I should like to see the first burst of this tornado," I remarked, not wishing to intrude upon the scene of sorrow we had left.

  "So be it, Captain. Stand here under the shelter, then."

  "Hot as thunder!" growled the major, wiping the perspiration from his broad, red cheeks.

  "In five minutes, Senor Coronel, you will be chilled. At this point the heated atmosphere is now compressed. Patience! it will soon be scattered."

  "How long will the storm continue?" I asked. "Por Dios! Senor, it is impossible to tell how long the `_norte' may rage: sometimes for days; perhaps only for a few hours. This appears to be a `_huracana'. If so, it will be short, but terrible while it lasts.Carrambo !"

  A puff of cold, sharp wind came whistling past like an arrow. Another followed, and another, like the three seas that roll over the stormy ocean. Then, with a loud, rushing sound, the broad, full blast went sweeping-strong, dark, and dusty-bearing upon its mane the screaming and terrified birds, mingled with torn and flouted leaves.

  The olives creaked and tossed about. The tall palms bowed and yielded, flinging out their long pinions like streamers. The broad leaves of the plantains flapped and whistled, and, bending gracefully, allowed the fierce blast to pass over.

  Then a great cloud came rolling down; a thick vapour seemed to fill the space; and the air felt hot and dark and heavy. A choking, sulphureous smell rendered the breathing difficult, and for a moment day seemed changed to night.

  Suddenly the whole atmosphere blazed forth in a sheet of flame, and the trees glistened as though they were on fire. An opaque darkness succeeded. Another flash, and along with it the crashing thunder-the artillery of heaven-deafening all other sounds.

  Peal followed peal; the vast cloud was breached and burst by a hundred fiery bolts; and like an avalanche the heavy tropical rain was precipitated to the earth.

  It fell in torrents, but the strength of the tempest had been spent on the first onslaught. The dark cloud passed on to the south, and a piercing cold wind swept after it.

  "Vamos a bajar, senores!" (Let us descend, gentlemen), said Don Cosme with a shiver, and he conducted us back to the stairway.

  Clayley and the major looked towards me with an expression that said, "Shall we go in?" There were several reasons why our return to the drawing-room was unpleasant to myself and my companions. A scene of domestic affliction is ever painful to a stranger. How much more painful to us, knowing, as we did, that our countrymen-thatwe -had been the partial agents of this calamity! We hesitated a moment on the threshold.

  "Gentlemen, we must return for a moment: we have been the bearers of evil tidings-let us offer such consolation as we may think of. Come!"

  * * *

  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 crie
d `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.