THE GUIDE.
Military law is inflexible--it has its rules, from which it never
departs, and discipline allows of neither hesitation nor tergiversation;
the oriental axiom, so much in favour at despotic courts, "to hear is to
obey," is rigorously true from a military point of view. Still, however
hard this may appear at the first blush, it must be so, for if the right
of discussion were granted inferiors with reference to the orders their
superiors gave them, all discipline would be destroyed; the soldiers
henceforth only obeying their caprices, would grow ungovernable, and the
army, instead of rendering the country the services which it has a right
to expect from it, would speedily become a scourge.
These reflections, and many others, crossed the Captain's mind, while he
thoughtfully followed the guide whom his General's despatch had so
singularly forced on him; but the order was clear and peremptory, he was
obliged to obey, and he did obey, although he felt convinced that the
man to whom he was compelled to trust was unworthy of the confidence
placed in him, if he were not an utter traitor.
As for the trooper, he galloped carelessly at the head of the caravan,
smoking, laughing, singing, and not seeming to suspect the doubts
entertained about him.
It is true that the Captain carefully kept secret the ill opinion he had
formed of the guide, and ostensibly placed the utmost confidence in him:
for prudence demanded that in the critical situation in which the
conducta was placed, those who composed it should not suspect their
Chief's anxiety, lest they might be demoralized by the fear of an
impending, treachery.
The Captain, before starting, had given the most severe orders that the
arms should be in a good state; he sent off scouts ahead, and on the
flanks of the troops, to explore the neighbourhood, and be assured that
the road was free, and no danger to be apprehended; in a word, he had
taken most scrupulously all the measures prudence dictated, in order to
guarantee the safety of the journey.
The guide, who was an impassive witness of all these precautions, on
whose behalf they were taken with so much ostentation, appeared to
approve of them, and even drew attention to the skill the
border-ruffians have in gliding through bushes and grass without leaving
traces, and the care the scouts must devote to the accomplishment of the
mission entrusted to them.
The further the conducta advanced in the direction of the mountains, the
more difficult and dangerous the march became; the trees, at first
scattered over a large space, became imperceptibly closer, and at last
formed a dense forest, through which, at certain spots, they were
compelled to cut their way with the axe, owing to the masses of creepers
intertwined in each other, and forming an inextricable tangle; then
again, there were rather wide streams difficult of approach, which the
horses and mules were obliged to ford in the midst of iguanas and
alligators, having frequently the water up to their girths.
The immense dome of verdure under which the caravan painfully advanced,
utterly hid the sky, and only allowed a few sunbeams to filter through
the foliage, which was not sufficient entirely to dissipate the gloom
which prevails almost constantly in the virgin forests, even at mid-day.
Europeans, who are only acquainted with the forests of the old world,
cannot form even a remote idea of those immense oceans of verdure which
in America are called virgin forests.
There the trees form a compact mass, for they are so entwined in each
other, and fastened together by a network of lianas which wind round
their stems and branches, plunging in the ground to rise again like the
pipes of an immense organ, or forming capricious curves, as they rise
and descend incessantly amid tufts of the parasite called Spanish beard,
which falls from the ends of the branches of all the trees; the soil,
covered with detritus of every sort, and humus formed of trees that have
died of old age, is hidden beneath a thick grass several feet in height.
The trees, nearly all of the same species, offer so little variety, that
each of them seems only a repetition of the others.
These forests are crossed in all directions by paths formed centuries
agone by the feet of wild beasts, and leading to their mysterious
watering-places; here and there beneath the foliage are stagnant
marshes, over which myriads of mosquitoes buzz, and from which dense
vapours rise that fill the forest with gloom; reptiles and insects of
all sorts crawl on the ground, while the cries of birds and the hoarse
calls of the wild beasts form a formidable concert which the echoes of
the lagoons repeat.
The most hardened wood-rangers enter in tremor the virgin forests, for
it is almost impossible to find one's way with certainty, and it is far
from safe to trust to the tracks which cross and are confounded; the
hunters know by experience that once lost in one of these forests,
unless a miracle supervene, they must perish within the walls formed by
the tall grass and the curtain of lianas, without hope of being helped
or saved by any living being of their own species.
It was a virgin forest the caravan entered at this moment.
The guide pushed on, without the least hesitation, appearing perfectly
sure of the road he followed, contenting himself by giving at lengthened
intervals a glance to the right or left, but not once checking the pace
of his horse.
It was nearly mid-day; the heat was growing stifling, the horses and
men, who had been on the march since four in the morning along almost
impracticable roads, were exhausted with fatigue, and imperiously
claimed a few hours' rest, which was indispensable before proceeding
further.
The Captain resolved to let the troop camp in one of those vast
clearings, so many of which are found in these parts, and are formed by
the fall of trees overthrown by a hurricane, or dead of old age.
The command to halt was given. The soldiers and arrieros gave a sigh of
relief, and stopped at once.
The Captain, whose eyes were accidentally fixed at this moment on the
guide, saw a cloud of dissatisfaction on his brow; still, feeling he
was watched, the man at once recovered himself, pretended to share the
general joy, and dismounted.
The horses and mules were unsaddled, that they might browse freely on
the young tree shoots and the grass that grew abundantly on the ground.
The soldiers enjoyed their frugal meal, and lay down on their zarapés to
sleep.
Ere long, the individuals composing the caravan were slumbering, with
the exception of two, the Captain and the guide.
Probably each of them was troubled by thoughts sufficiently serious to
drive away sleep, and keep them awake, when all wanted to repose.
A few paces from the clearing, some monstrous iguanas were lying in the
sun, wallowing in the grayish mud of a stream whose water ran with a
slight murmur through the obstacles of every description that impeded
its course. Myriads of insects filled the air with the continued buzzing
of their wings; squirrels leaped gaily from branch to branch; the birds,
hidden beneath the foliage, were singing cheerily, and here and there
above the tall grass might be seen the elegant head and startled eyes of
a deer or an ashata, which suddenly rushed beneath the covert with a low
of terror.
But the two men were too much occupied with their thoughts to notice
what was going on around them.
The Captain raised his head at the very moment when the guide had fixed
on him a glance of strange meaning: confused at being thus taken
unawares, he tried to deceive the officer by speaking to
him--old-fashioned tactics, however, by which the latter was not duped.
"It is a hot day, Excellency," he said, with a nonchalant air.
"Yes," the Captain answered, laconically.
"Do you not feel any inclination for sleep?"
"No."
"For my part, I feel my eyelids extraordinarily heavy, and my eyes close
against my will; with your permission I will follow the example of our
comrades, and take a few moments of that refreshing sleep they seem to
enjoy so greatly."
"One moment--I have something to say to you."
"Very good," he said, with an air of the utmost indifference.
He rose, stifling a sigh of regret, and seated himself by the Captain's
side, who withdrew to make room for him under the protecting shadow of
the large tree which stretched out above his head its giant arms, loaded
with vines and Spanish beard.
"We are about to talk seriously," the Captain went on.
"As you please."
"Can you be frank?"
"What?" the soldier said, thrown off his guard by the suddenness of the
question.
"Or, if you prefer it, can you be honest?"
"That depends."
The Captain looked at him.
"Will you answer my questions?"
"I do not know."
"What do you say?"
"Listen, Excellency," the guide said, with a simple look, "my mother,
worthy woman that she was, always recommended me to distrust two sorts
of people, borrowers and questioners, for she said, with considerable
sense, the first attack your purse, the others your secrets."
"Then you have a secret?"
"Not the least in the world."
"Then what do you fear?"
"Not much, it is true. Well, question me, Excellency, and I will try to
answer you."
The Mexican peasant, the Manzo or civilized Indian, has a good deal of
the Norman peasant about him, in so far as it is impossible to obtain
from him a positive answer to any question asked him. The Captain was
compelled to be satisfied with the guide's half promise, so he went
on:--
"Who are you?"
"I?"
"Yes, you."
The guide began laughing.
"You can see plainly enough," he said.
The Captain shook his head.
"I do not ask you what you appear to be, but what you really are."
"Why, señor, what man can answer for himself, and know positively who he
is?"
"Listen, scoundrel," the Captain continued, in a menacing tone, "I do
not mean to lose my time in following you through all the stories you
may think proper to invent. Answer my questions plainly, or, if not--"
"If not?" the guide impudently interrupted him.
"I blow out your brains like a dog's!" he replied, as he drew a pistol
from his belt, and hastily cocked it.
The soldier's eye flashed fire, but his features remained impassive, and
not a muscle of his face stirred.
"Oh, oh, señor Captain," he said, in a sombre voice, "you have a
singular way of questioning your friends."
"Who assures me that you are a friend? I do not know you."
"That is true, but you know the person who sent me to you; that person
is your Chief as he is mine. I obeyed him by coming to find you, as you
ought to obey him by following the orders he has given you."
"Yes, but those orders were sent me through you."
"What matter?"
"Who guarantees that the despatch you have brought me was really handed
to you?"
"Caramba, Captain, what you say is anything but flattering to me," the
guide replied with an offended look.
"I know it; unhappily we live at a time when it is so difficult to
distinguish friends from foes, that I cannot take too many precautions
to avoid falling into a snare; I am entrusted by Government with a very
delicate mission, and must therefore behave with great reserve toward
persons who are strangers to me."
"You are right, Captain; hence, in spite of the offensive nature of your
suspicions, I will not feel affronted by what you say, for exceptional
positions require exceptional measures. Still, I will strive by my
conduct to prove to you how mistaken you are."
"I shall be glad if I am mistaken; but take care. If I perceive anything
doubtful, either in your actions or your words, I shall not hesitate to
blow out your brains. Now that you are warned, it is your place to act
in accordance."
"Very good, Captain, I will run the risk. Whatever happens. I feel
certain that my conscience will absolve me, for I shall have acted for
the best."
This was said with an air of frankness which, in spite of his
suspicions, had its effect on the Captain.
"We shall see," he said; "shall we soon get out of this infernal forest
in which we now are?"
"We have only two hours' march left; at sunset we shall join the persons
who are awaiting us."
"May Heaven grant it!" the Captain muttered.
"Amen!" the soldier said boldly.
"Still, as you have not thought proper to answer any of the questions I
asked you, you must not feel offended if I do not let you out of sight
from this moment, and keep you by my side when we start again."
"You can do as you please, Captain; you have the power, if not the
right, on your side, and I am compelled to yield to your will."
"Very good, now you can sleep if you think proper."
"Then you have nothing more to say to me?"
"Nothing."
"In that case I will avail myself of the permission you are kind enough
to grant me, and try to make up for lost time."
The soldier then rose, stiffing a long yawn, walked a few paces off, lay
down on the ground, and seemed within a few minutes plunged in a deep
sleep.
The Captain remained awake. The conversation he had held with his guide
only increased his anxiety, by proving to him that this man concealed
great cunning beneath an abrupt and trivial manner. In fact, he had not
answered one of the questions asked him, and after a few minutes had
succeeded in making the Captain turn from the offensive to the
defensive, by giving him speciously logical arguments to which the
officer was unable to raise any objection.
Don Juan was, therefore at this moment in the worst temper a man of
honour can be in, who is dissatisfied with himself and others, fully
convinced that he was in the right, but compelled, to a certain extent,
to allow himself in the wrong.
The soldiers, as generally happens in such cases, suffered from their
chief's ill temper; for the officer, afraid of adding the darkness to
the evil chances he fancied he had against him, and not at all desirous
to be surprised by night in the inextricable windings of the forest, cut
the halt short much sooner than he would have done under different
circumstances.
At about two o'clock P.M. he ordered the boot and saddle to be sounded,
and gave the word to start.
The greatest heat of the day had passed over, the sunbeams being more
oblique, had lost a great deal of their power, and the march was
continued under conditions comparatively better than those which
preceded it.
As he had warned him, the Captain intimated to the guide that he was to
ride by his side, and, so far as was possible, did not let him out of
sight for a second.
The latter did not appear at all troubled by this annoying inquisition;
he rode along quite as gaily as heretofore, smoking his husk cigarette,
and whistling fragments of jarabés between his teeth.
The forest began gradually to grow clearer, the openings became more
numerous, and the eye embraced a wider horizon; all led to the
presumption that they would soon reach the limits of the covert.
Still, the ground began rising slightly on both sides, and the path the
conducta followed grew more and more hollow, in proportion as it
advanced.
"Are we already reaching the spurs of the mountains?" the Captain asked.
"Oh, no, not yet," the guide answered.
"Still we shall soon be between two hills?"
"Yes, but of no height."
"That is true; still, if I am not mistaken, we shall have to pass
through a defile."
"Yes, but of no great length."
"You should have warned me of it."
"Why so?"
"That I might have sent some scouts ahead."
"That is true, but there is still time to do so if you like; the persons
who are waiting for us are at the end of that gorge."
"Then we have arrived?"
"Very nearly so."
"Let us push on in that case."
"I am quite ready."
They went on; all at once the guide stopped.
"Hilloh!" he said, "Look over there, Captain; is not that a musket
barrel glistening in the sunbeams?"
The Captain sharply turned his eyes in the direction indicated by the
soldier.
At the same moment a frightful discharge burst forth from either side of
the way, and a shower of bullets poured on the conducta.
Before the Captain, ferocious at this shameful treachery, could draw a
pistol from his belt, he rolled on the ground, dragged down by his
horse, which had a ball right through its heart.
The guide had disappeared, and it was impossible to discover how he had
escaped.