THE SCOUT IN THE JUNGLE.
Riding at a leisurely pace, the five scouts started upon their
dangerous quest, Ronie and one of the Venezuelans riding side by side,
with Jack and another behind them, leaving the single man to follow.
The young sergeant was pleased to find that the trio selected to
accompany him by Colonel Marchand were very prepossessing men, one of
them a man with gray hair, while the others were but a little over
twenty years of age. The oldest, whose name was Riva Baez, claimed he
knew the country well, so it was he who rode beside our hero to show
the way.
"About ten kilometers to the west we shall strike the main road to
Truxillo," he remarked. "But it may be well for us to avoid that. El
Capitan and his followers are believed to be hovering around the
foothills between here and Barquisimete. It is a country just suited
to ambuscade and concealment."
"How far is it to the nearest town?"
"Less than five kilometers. It is a small town called Caro."
"Is it held by the insurgents?"
"No, though it bears the marks of one of their raids. The people have
been left too poor to be either feared or sought for."
"We need not go there?"
"About a kilometer this side we can strike a mountain road leading into
the wild country."
"Where we are likely to find El Capitan and his insurgents?"
"_Si_, Sergeant Rand."
"Then that is our course, senor. Show us the way."
Nothing further was said until possibly three miles had been passed,
when Riva Baez drew rein. The road they had taken soon after leaving
the encampment of the troops, by this time had sort of "dwindled away,"
as Jack put it, until it was now little more than a cattle path. The
country ahead was thinly populated, if settled at all. The guide of
the little party was the first to speak:
"If we follow this course half a kilometer farther we shall come out
upon the road leading to Caro, which winds down from the mountains.
Beyond, the country is infested with the insurgents, and we are likely
to run upon them at every turn. If we keep on through Caro we shall
soon come into the lower country, where we shall find a string of towns
along the way, but the people, as a rule, unfriendly to us. If we bend
to the left here we shall be able to make a short cut over the spur of
the ridge and reach the region of Maracaibo without much risk of
stirring up El Capitan's hornets. Which way shall we go, sergeant?"
"Our purpose is to learn all we can of the enemy," replied Ronie.
"According to your account, we shall learn very little of them by
keeping to the left. Neither are we especially anxious just at present
to seek towns in the lower country. But we will go to Caro first."
"_Si_, Sergeant Rand," and without longer delay Riva Baez led the march
forward again. Owing to the unfavorable conditions of the route, they
had advanced slowly, and it was now past midnight. The moonbeams
tipped the treetops with a silvery halo, but underneath this foliage it
was so dark that our riders had to pick their way with constant
caution, lest they should run into some trap of nature or set by the
hand of an enemy that claimed this country as his own.
Nothing to cause them actual alarm, however, took place, and after a
while Riva declared they were close down to Caro, which he described as
lying in a narrow valley through which wound one of the numerous
mountain streams watering the country. Upon receiving this
intelligence, Ronie called a halt, and after a short consultation with
his guide and Jack, he decided to enter the town alone with the former,
leaving the others to await their return, unless called by a signal
agreed upon. With this understanding he and the guide rode cautiously
forward, the road overhung with the dense vegetation springing from a
rich soil under most favoring conditions of the atmosphere.
A ride of less than five minutes, even at a slow pace, brought the two
scouts in sight of the little hamlet made tip of coffee planters'
homes. At that time the silence of sleep lay upon the place, no sound
of night breaking the gentle murmur of the river flowing parallel with
the road. Near the edge of the first plantation Ronie motioned for his
companion to stop, when he slipped from the saddle to the ground.
"I am going to make a little exploration alone," he whispered. "Do you
remain here with the horses. I will not be gone over ten minutes. If
I am, you may understand that I am in trouble, and act at your own
discretion."
"Look sharp, senors," warned Riva Baez. "No one seems to be astir,
but, for all that, one of El Capitan's sharpshooters may be lying in
wait to shoot you down like a jaguar."
"I have had a bit of experience among the Igorrotes of Luzon," replied
Ronie, "and you can count upon me not running headlong into an ambush.
What a beautiful night it is," he could not refrain from adding.
"If you think this is delightful, sergeant, you ought to witness a
night on the Orinoco in the great rubber country of the south."
Without making any reply to this, Ronie stole silently forward upon
foot, soon finding himself in the midst of the beehive homes of the
small coffee planters. But not a soul seemed to occupy the primitive
dwellings without doors or windows, but left free for the passage of
the night breeze.
"It is singular no one should be awake," he mused, "but the houses
appear to be as deserted as if they had never been occupied. There is
a mystery about this I do not understand. I am inclined to risk my
chances and enter one of them. I will if they all prove to look as
empty as these."
With these thoughts in his mind he moved stealthily along past hut
after hut, reached by avenues bordered by stately, flowering plants of
tropical brightness and verdure. But everywhere he went prevailed the
utter loneliness and emptiness which had first struck him as so
unusual. Finally, satisfied in his own mind regarding the actual
situation, he ventured to enter one of the dwellings, though not
without extreme caution. He crept along under cover of a row of
broad-leafed guamos bearing pods eight or ten inches in length, which
were filled with rows of black beans enveloped in a pulp of snowy
whiteness and agreeable sweetness. But if these facts had been known
to the young scout at this time they would certainly have been unheeded
by him, as he made his stealthy advance. He was aware that the time
for his return to Riva Baez was nearly passed, but he disliked to
return until the mystery of the silent town had been solved. So he
continued his advance until at last he stood on the earth floor under
the thatched roof, where the complete silence of undisturbed repose
reigned.
The conviction which had at first forced itself upon him had before
this become a settled fact. The dwelling was entirely deserted. Not
only was this the case with the hut he had entered, but it was true of
all the others. Caro was an abandoned town!
Anxious now to return to his companions with the intelligence, he lost
no further time in retracing his steps, but he had barely gained the
road when he was aware of the approach of a horse! Ay, listening a
moment, he was certain there were two of them. Knowing it was
necessary for him to be on the alert for enemies, he drew back into the
mass of plants and waited until he should obtain a good view of the
riders who were abroad, half expecting one of them to be Riva Baez. He
was rewarded a moment later by the sight of his guide, who had become
uneasy and had come in search of him. A signal from him attracted the
Venezuelan's attention, and he showed unfeigned delight at finding his
leader so quickly.
Riva Baez expressed little surprise when Ronie told him that Caro was a
deserted settlement, though he could offer no satisfactory explanation
for the fact.
"El Capitan may have taken them all captives, or butchered them in cold
blood."
"There is nothing to show that violence has been done them. The huts
are simply deserted, just as if the owners had been called suddenly
away for a brief absence."
"True, Sergeant Rand. Shall we stop here a while or push on toward the
next place?"
"We have no time to waste at this stage of action," replied the
energetic young American. "Let's move on into the country of the
insurgents. We can learn nothing by keeping away from them. The day
will soon be breaking."
"_Si_, sergeant; I am at your command. We will climb the hill back of
us, and then turn to the right. At the top of the hill I think a call
will bring our comrades."
"The safer call is to go to them. I will wait on the hill while you
are gone."
From the vantage he had gained where he waited for his companions to
rejoin him, Ronie obtained a wide sweep of the surrounding country, a
view he knew was likely to prove of great value to him in his future
actions. He could not follow, even in the pale light of the western
moon, which was beginning to lose its glory before the coming of the
new light on the eastern horizon, the trend of the mountain ranges as
he had not been able to do before. He was really in the region of a
distinct offshoot of mountains from those that lead away from the
greatest mountain chain on the globe, the mighty Andes. The mountain
system which crosses Venezuela in this district is an offset from the
eastern Cordillera, and runs down to the Caribbean Sea in irregular
conformity with the eastern shore of the Lake of Maracaibo. From this
chain the Venezuelan system of two ranges, running almost side by side,
extends toward the east, the most northerly branch, which follows quite
closely to the seashore culminating in the Island of Trinidad. As he
looked down upon it in the still morning atmosphere, the whole panorama
of country appeared like a solid mass of forest, uneven, it is true,
but unbroken by the hand of man. The intense silence which had hung
over deserted Caro was intensified here, so that it became oppressive.
Ronie could not fully throw off this spirit of utter loneliness which
weighed down his very soul, so that he exclaimed involuntarily, in an
undertone:
"Strange I should feel so impressed that something wrong is going to
happen. Somehow, I cannot shake off the impression that I stand in the
presence of a power that portends me mortal danger."
He had only partially succeeded in overcoming this passing weakness
when he hailed with delight the reappearance of his companions, and the
five then moved ahead with their accustomed caution.
Half an hour later, when the light of the new day was beginning to
penetrate the tropical foliage with growing brightness, they were still
slowly moving along the narrow way, overhung by tall, graceful trees,
adorned at their tops with brilliant flowers, when the silence of the
scene was suddenly broken by a loud rifle shot. It was, in fact, two
reports blending into one, for two bullets cleft the air; with a swift,
hissing sound. One of these struck the horse ridden by Riva Baez, and
the poor animal reared suddenly into the air, and snorted with pain and
terror. The other bullet cut away a lock of hair from the temple of
Ronie, and for an instant he was stunned by the force of the shot.