RONIE RECEIVES A COMMISSION.
"She must not be allowed to escape, Jack!" exclaimed Ronie. "I heard
Colonel Marchand say that she knows secrets which it would not be well
for his enemies to learn."
"Ay, lad; it is not too late for us to stop them."
Without further delay the twain sprang forward, and were in season to
intercept the fugitives. As they brought their firearms to bear upon
the men who had constituted themselves Senora de Caprian's escort,
Ronie cried, sharply:
"Stand where you are!"
The woman uttered a cry of dismay at this command, while the men
suddenly stopped, facing the determined Americans with frightened looks.
"Let me pass, senors, I implore you," begged the prisoner, the tears
springing to her eyes, while she clasped her hands and turned upon them
such looks of agony as haunted them for many a day. Ronie, at least,
felt that he had committed an act which he should regret, and it is
possible if the opportunity had remained when he could have allowed her
to escape with safety, he might have done it. But the die was cast,
and there was no retreat. The loud, authoritative words had aroused
others. The soldiers were suddenly recalled to their duty, while the
sight of the fugitive and their captors quickly caught the attention of
the newcomers upon the scene, foremost among these being Colonel
Marchand!
He instantly comprehended the situation, and a look of admiration for
the prompt deed lightened the bronze upon his cheeks, while he said:
"By the soul of Bolivar! you have done well, senors. Soldiers, secure
the prisoner immediately, and see that her liberators are taken into
custody."
"I hope there will be no cause for us to regret what we have done,
colonel," said Ronie, who really felt sorry for the prisoner.
"You may cut off my right hand if you do, Senor Rand. At present it is
necessary that we hold the woman as a prisoner of war, but she shall be
well treated, and I have no doubt be set free soon."
Ronie knew Colonel Marchand was a man of his word, and he felt better
over what he and Jack bad done. This pleasure was further increased by
the words of the colonel as they accompanied him to his headquarters.
"This will prove a good day's work for you, Ronie. I only regret I had
not been able to report it to General Castro when I sent my dispatch,
but better late than never. What do you say to going with us on our
campaign toward Maracaibo? We start within an hour. The rebels are
rallying in that direction, and we must look after them before they
become too strong."
The fact that it was likely to take them nearer to Harrie, if not quite
to San Carlos, was enough to shape their decision, and inside of an
hour they were mounted and riding with the troops toward the west,
Ronie getting his first taste of warfare.
The days that followed would never be forgotten by our American
soldiers in the service of Venezuela. Colonel Marchand seemed to be
always on the move, but the enemy was even more active than he, and
always kept one scene ahead of him. For instance, he left the little
hamlet where Ronie and Jack joined his forces to go to another country
town called Verona, where it was reported the insurgents had made a
raid. Upon reaching this settlement, which was little more than a
collection of coffee planters' conical dwellings, it was ascertained
that the enemies had been gone a few hours, and that they were headed
toward Juan. Hither, posthaste, dashed the Venezuelan cavalry,
resolved to be in season this time, only to find that again the bird
had flown. But Castro's troops were led by a captain who had the name
of never sleeping, and once more he followed on their heels. Then he
learned they had gone back to Verona! Thus two weeks were spent in
vain advances and retreats, swift dashes ahead and equally as rapid
doubling upon the track, until we finally find the grimy riders halted
near the rim of a little plain which formed the foot of a mountain
range trending away toward the more lofty peaks making the highest
elevations of land in the Western World. As may be imagined, the
doughty colonel was in no enviable mood, as he sat by the door of his
tent, whose roof was the bended sky. It was one of those inns found at
those outposts between the agricultural and pastoral regions.
The men were busy getting the evening meal, which was to be made up
largely of a fat bullock killed a few minutes before. Evidence had
been witnessed where the insurgents had broken into a herd that very
day and slaughtered several of the best beeves. This killing of cattle
was characteristic of Venezuelan warfare. The ragged troops of the
revolutionists must be fed, and what easier way to do it?
Ronie and Jack, who had ridden until they were tired and sore, were
attending to their tough ponies before spreading their ponchos over the
stony spot which they had cleared of the rank vegetation so as to
prepare their couch for the night, as there were no posts upon which to
hang their hammocks, when a messenger informed them that Colonel
Marchand wished to see them immediately. At a loss to know what this
order could mean, they lost no time in answering the summons.
They found the colonel, usually so genial, very much out of humor. At
first Ronie feared that he had done something to arouse this uncommon
state of mind on the part of his superior.
"Sergeant Rand," greeted the colonel, brusquely, giving our hero a
title quite unexpected to him, "I have sent for you to see if your
Yankee ingenuity and courage cannot help me out of this difficulty."
"I am at your service, colonel," replied Ronie, with a military salute,
"and I am sure my friend here is equally as faithful."
"Ay, ay, Colonel Marchand; where Ronie Rand leads I----"
"Sergeant Rand, if you please, Senor Greenland," interrupted the
officer. "I will now explain what I want of you."
Though taken somewhat aback by this greeting, our twain bowed and
waited respectfully for the other to explain.
"In the first place," began the colonel, "I need not tell you how I
have been buffeted about for the last ten days. It has set my teeth on
edge. On every hand my scouts have been baffled by these scoundrels of
the bush, who make a farce of war and style themselves 'Sons of
Liberty!' Word comes in that they are everywhere successful, and that
Castro is discouraged. I know better than the last. He is not that
kind of a man. But enough of that. What I want of you is simply this:
Take as many men with you as you wish, and reconnoiter the country as
far as you think best, and report to me as often as possible. Are you
willing to undertake this hazardous mission?"
"I am willing to do my duty, Colonel Marchand."
"Ay, ay, colonel," added Jack.
"Spoken like true soldiers. I know I can depend on you. Now name the
number of men you want to go with you, and I will have them detailed at
once. Remember you are to have command of the squad, with your friend
as deputy."
"I assure you, colonel, we appreciate the honor. I think three men
will be sufficient. A small body of men can go where a large one would
be likely to attract attention."
"Good! My scouts dare not stir out of their hammocks without an army
is at their heels. How soon can you be ready to report, sergeant?"
"In half an hour, colonel."
"Thank you, sergeant. That will give me time to detain [Transcriber's
note: detail?] the men, and I will see that you have the best in the
regiment. By the way, sergeant, I wish to say that I have received as
yet no reply from General Castro, but I probably shall before you get
back. I would also add that I expect to move to Baracoa in the
morning, where I shall await news from you."
"Well, Jack, what do you think of this?" asked Ronie, as soon as they
had left the presence of Colonel Marchand.
"Looks as if we were going to taste of real warfare," replied Jack. "I
can't say that I am sorry, for as long as we cannot go ahead with our
work it will serve to break the monotony."
"If I only knew that mother was safely at home, and Harrie was with us,
I really think I should enjoy it. If there was only some way I could
get a letter sent to her, I would write to mother in New York, hit or
miss."
"Perhaps the colonel will have a chance to get it to the capital,"
suggested Jack. "If you want to write it, I will see that everything
is got in readiness for our start."
"You are very kind. I think I will do it. It will certainly do no
harm."
So Ronie wrote his letter to his mother, describing briefly his recent
experiences, and speaking particularly of the portrait he had picked
up. He had to make his letter short, for he not only prepared that,
but he ate a hasty meal, which Jack had prepared, and with his faithful
companion presented himself at the commander's tent in exactly half an
hour.
"I am glad to find you so punctual," remarked the colonel. "Yes, I
will send your letter along at the first opportunity. Here are the men
who are to accompany you. I wish you success, but I do not believe I
need to caution you to move cautiously. You have been here long enough
to know something of the character of these bush rebels."
In this brusque manner Colonel Marchand saw them depart, though he did
not return to his papers until they had disappeared beyond the line of
forest vegetation which encircled the clearing in the shadows of the
mountains. His eye trained upon the spot where he had last seen them
after they had vanished for several minutes, he finally turned back,
saying, under his breath:
"I hope I shall not be disappointed in them as I have the others who
have gone before them."