The Rifle Rangers

by Reid, Mayne

  * * *

  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.

  "Not yet, Captain," answered Raoul in a whisper. "Farther on."

  We passed the grating, then another and another, and at length reached one where only a feeble ray struggled downward through the bars.

  Here my guide stopped, and listened attentively for several minutes. Then, stretching out his hand, he undid the fastening of the grate, and silently turned it upon its hinge. He next swung himself up until his head projected above ground. In this position he again listened, looking cautiously on all sides.

  Satisfied at length that there was no one near, he drew his body up through the grating and disappeared. After a short interval he returned, and called down:

  "Come, Captain."

  I swung myself up to the street. Raoul shut down the trap with care.

  "Take marks, Captain," whispered he; "we may get separated."

  It was a dismal suburb. No living thing was apparent, with the exception of a gang of prowling dogs, lean and savage, as all dogs are during a siege. An image, decked in all the glare of gaud and tinsel, looked out of a glazed niche in the opposite wall. A dim lamp burned at its feet, showing to the charitable a receptacle for their offerings. A quaint old steeple loomed in the darkness overhead.

  "What church?" I asked Raoul.

  "La Magdalena."

  "That will do. Now onward."

  "Buenas noches, Senor!" (good-night) said Raoul to a soldier who passed us, wrapped in his great-coat.

  "Buenas noches!" returned the man in a gruff voice.

  We stole cautiously along the streets, keeping in the darker ones to avoid observation. The citizens were mostly in their beds; but groups of soldiers were straggling about, and patrols met us at every corner.

  It became necessary to pass through one of the streets that was brilliantly lighted. When about half-way up it a fellow came swinging along, and, noticing our strange appearance, stopped and looked after us.

  Our dresses, as I have said, were of leather; our calzoneros, as well as jackets, were shining with the sea-water, and dripping upon the pavement at every step.

  Before we could walk beyond reach, the man shouted out:

  "Carajo! caballeros, why don't you strip before entering thebano ?"

  "What is it?" cried a soldier, coming up and stopping us.

  A group of his comrades joined him, and we were hurried into the light.

  "Mil diablos!" exclaimed one of the soldiers, recognising Raoul; "our old friend the Frenchman!Parlez-vous francais ,Monsieur ?"

  "Spies!" cried another.

  "Arrest them!" shouted a sergeant of the guard, at the moment coming up with a patrol, and we were both jumped upon and held by about a dozen men.

  In vain Raoul protested our innocence, declaring that we were only two poor fishermen, who had wet our clothes in drawing the nets.

  "It's not a fisherman's costume, Monsieur," said one.

  "Fishermen don't usually wear diamonds on their knuckles," cried another, snatching a ring from my finger.

  On this ring, inside the circlet, were engraven my name and rank!

  Several men, now coming forward, recognised Raoul, and stated, moreover, that he had been missing for some days.

  "He must, therefore," said they, "have been with the Yankees."

  We were soon handcuffed and marched off to the guard-prison. There we were closely searched, but nothing further was found, except my purse containing several gold eagles-an American coin that of itself would have been sufficient evidence to condemn me.

  We were now heavily chained to each other, after which the guard left us to our thoughts. They could not have left us in much less agreeable companionship.

  * * *

  The guerilleros now halted and dismounted. We were left in our saddles. Our mules were picketed upon long lazos, and commenced browsing. They carried us under the thorny branches of the wild locust. The maguey, with its bill-shaped claws, had torn our uniform overalls to shreds. Our limbs were lacerated, and the cactus had lodged its poisoned prickles in our knees. But these were nothing to the pain of being compelled to keep our saddles, or rather saddle-trees-for we were upon the naked wood. Our hips ached intensely, and our limbs smarted under the chafing thong.

  There was a crackling of fires around us. Our captors were cooking their breakfasts, and chattering gaily over their chocolate. Neither food nor drink was offered to us, although we were both thirsty and hungry. We were kept in this place for about an hour.

  "They have joined another party here," said Raoul, "with pack-mules."

  "How know you?" I inquired.

  "I can tell by the shouts of the arrieros. Listen!-they are making ready to start."

  There was a mingling of voices-exclamations addressed to their animals by the arrieros, such as:

  "Mula! anda! vaya! levantate! carrai! mula-mulita!-anda!-st!-st!"

  In the midst of this din I fancied that I heard the voice of a woman.

  "Can it be-?"

  The thought was too painful.

  A bugle at length sounded, and we felt ourselves again moving onward.

  Our road appeared to run along the naked ridge. There were no trees, and the heat became intense. Our serapes, that had served us during the night, should have been dispensed with now, had we been consulted in relation to the matter. I did not know, until some time after, why these blankets had been given to us, as they had been hitherto very useful in the cold. It was not from any anxiety in regard to our comfort, as I learned afterwards.

  We began to suffer from thirst, and Raoul asked one of the guerilleros for water.

  "Carajo!" answered the man, "it's no use: you'll be choked by and by with something else than thirst."

  The brutal jest called forth a peal of laughter from his comrades.

  About noon we commenced descending a long hill. I could hear the sound of water ahead.

  "Where are we, Raoul?" I inquired faintly.

  "Going down to a stream-a branch of the Antigua."

  "We are coming to another precipice?" I asked, with some uneasiness, as the roar of the torrent began to be heard more under our feet, and I snuffed the cold air from below.

  "There is one, Captain. There is a good road, though, and well paved."

  "Paved! why, the country around is wild-is it not?"

  "True; but the road was paved by the priests."

  "By the priests!" I exclaimed with some astonishment.

  "Yes, Captain; there's a convent in the valley, near the crossing; that is, therewas one. It is now a ruin."

  We crept slowly down, our mules at times seeming to walk on their heads. The hissing of the torrent grew gradually louder, until our ears were filled with its hoarse rushing.

  I heard Raoul below me shouting some words in a warning voice, when suddenly he seemed borne away, as if he had been tumbled over the precipice.

  I expected to feel myself next moment launched after him into empty space, when my mule, uttering a loud whinny, sprang forward and downward.

  Down-down! the next leap into eternity! No-she keeps her feet! she gallops along a level path! I am safe!

  I was swung about until the thongs seemed to cut through my limbs; and with a heavy plunge I felt myself carried thigh-deep into water.

  Here the animal suddenly halted.

  As soon as I could gain breath I shouted at the top of my voice for the Frenchman.

  "Here, Captain!" he answered, close by my side, but, as I fancied, with a strange, gurgling voice.

  "Are you hurt, Raoul?" I inquired.

  "Hurt? No, Captain."

  "What was it, then?"
/>
  "Oh! I wished to warn you, but I was too late. I might have known they would stampede, as the poor brutes have been no better treated than ourselves. Hear how they draw it up!"

  "I am choking!" I exclaimed, listening to the water as it filtered through the teeth of my mule.

  "Do as I do, Captain," said Raoul, speaking as if from the bottom of a well.

  "How?" I asked.

  "Bend down, and let the water run into your mouth."

  This accounted for Raoul's voice sounding so strangely.

  "They may not give us a drop," continued he. "It is our only chance."

  "I have not even that," I replied, after having vainly endeavoured to reach the surface with my face.

  "Why?" asked my comrade.

  "I cannot reach it."

  "How deep are you?"

  "To the saddle-flaps."

  "Ride this way, Captain. It's deeper here."

  "How can I? My mule is her own master, as far as I am concerned."

  "Parbleu!" said the Frenchman. "I did not think of that."

  But, whether to oblige me, or moved by a desire to cool her flanks, the animal plunged forward into a deeper part of the stream.

  After straining myself to the utmost, I was enabled to "duck" my head. In this painful position I contrived to get a couple of swallows; but I should think I took in quite as much at my nose and ears.

  Clayley and Chane followed our example, the Irishman swearing loudly that it was a "burnin' shame to make a dacent Christyin dhrink like a horse in winkers."

  Our guards now commenced driving our mules out of the water. As we were climbing the bank, someone touched me lightly upon the arm; and at the same instant a voice whispered in my ear, "Courage, Captain!"

  I started-it was the voice of a female. I was about to reply, when a soft, small hand was thrust under the tapojo, and pushed something between my lips. The hand was immediately withdrawn, and I heard the voice urging a horse onward.

  The clatter of hoofs, as of a horse passing me in a gallop, convinced me that this mysterious agent was gone, and I remained silent.

  "Who can it be Jack? No. Jack has a soft voice-a small hand; but how could he be here, and with his hands free? No-no-no! Who then? It was certainly the voice of a woman-the hand, too. What other should have made this demonstration? I know no other-it must-it must have been-."