I was in the midst of circumstances still unexplained. A wounded man
found lying upon the field of battle--a mere youth; in no respect,
either in costume, accoutrements, or personal appearance, resembling the
thing called a "common soldier," and yet bearing no insignia to show
that he was aught else.
Found with an enemy standing over him, not a national foe, but a
countryman--and, as it appeared, an old school-fellow, _machete_ in
hand, threatening to accomplish what the foeman had left incomplete--
threatening his life, and only hindered from taking it by the merest
accidental intervention!
Near at hand, soon after to appear by his side, a woman--not one of
those hideous hags sometimes seen on the morrow of a bloody battle,
skulking among the slain, and stooping, vulture-like, over the mangled
corpse--but a young girl of sweet voice and lovely aspect; so
contrasting with the rude objects around her, so apparently out of place
amid such scenes, that instead of a human being, a form of flesh and
blood, one might have believed her to be an angel of mercy, that had
descended from the sky to soothe the sufferings which men in their
frantic fury had caused one another!
And this angel-like creature to prove the _sister_--and not the
_sweetheart_--of him whose cries had called me from my couch!
Even in this circumstance there was something to cause me surprise. It
would not have been the first time I had met the soldier's sweetheart on
the field of battle; but never before had I encountered his sister.
I might have been more surprised at this peculiar encounter, but that on
the afternoon of that very day I had been spectator of a scene
calculated to explain it. In a field adjoining the hamlet-village of El
Plan I had gazed upon four thousand soldiers of Santa Anna's army made
prisoners during the action; and circling among them--not as spectators,
but real actors in the affairs of the camp--were at least half this
number of women!
Though most stood in a different relationship, I learned that many of
these devoted creatures were the sisters--some of them the mothers--of
the men who had mingled in the fight!
I could not help contrasting this bi-sexual crowd with the invading army
to which I myself appertained; in which some half-dozen hags, under the
appellation of sutler's assistants; a like number performing the
_metier_ of the laundress; and one or two virgins of still more
questionable calling, formed the whole female camp-following.
After such a scene as that witnessed by the _rancheria_ of El Plan, it
could not much astonish me to find the sister of Cairo? Vergara on the
field of battle. My astonishment only arose from seeing _such a
sister_!
On being left alone with the Jarocho, I could no longer repress my
desire to obtain an explanation of the series of mysteries, that had so
suddenly and unexpectedly surrounded me.
My interference in his behalf had furnished me with a sort of right to
make the request--even to demand it.
"Ramon Rayas," I said, as soon as the girl was gone out of
hearing--"This Ramon Rayas appears to be no friend of yours?"
"Ah, senor! my bitterest enemy."
"He is not the enemy of your sister, though! He professes to be her
very best friend--at least her lover, which should be the same thing?
Is _she_ of that opinion?"
"My sister hates him."
"Are you sure of that?"
"Nor capitan, you are a stranger to me; but the service you've this
night performed makes me feel as if I were talking to an old friend.
Excuse the freedom I take. I am only a poor Jarocho--owning nothing but
my _rancho_, a few varas of garden-ground, my horse, my saddle, and my
_machete_. I was going to say my liberty, but that's not true: else why
am I dragged from my home to fight battles in which I have no interest?
You may say what our military oppressors say--it is to fight for my
country. Bah! what use in spilling one's blood for a country that's not
free? It isn't for that I've been brought to Cerro Gordo, and shot down
like a dog. It was to fight for a tyrant, not for a country--for El
Cojo, and nobody else!"
"You have not been in the battle by your own will, then?"
"_Carrambo_! nothing of the sort, _nor deconocio_! I am here by
conscription; and I've been shot down by conscription. No matter now.
_We_ have no liberty left in Mexico--at least I have none. Still, nor
capitan, there's one treasure left to me which I prize above everything
else before riches, or even liberty. It was left me by my parents--who
have long ago gone to a better world."
"What treasure?" I inquired, seeing that the speaker hesitated to
declare it.
"_Na Lola--mia hermanita_." (Lola, my dear sister.)
"I hope there is no danger of your losing her?"
"There is. This very night you must have heard something to tell you
that there is."
"'Tis true I heard something that sounded like a threat; but what need
you fear from a man who can have no control over you or your sister?
You say she scorns his suit. If that be so, I cannot understand how she
is in danger."
"Ah! _nor deconocio_! you know not our country, else you might
understand. The man you speak of has power; that is, if he be still
alive."
The speaker glanced significantly towards the blood-stained cutlass.
"Power! How?"
"He is my captain. I am one of a band of _guerilleros_, raised in our
village and neighbourhood. This man, Don Ramon Rayas, is our chief. He
had his appointment from the dictator himself, Don Antonio Lopez de
Santa Anna. It's a puzzle to me--and to others as well--how he obtained
it: for it's well known that before the beginning of this war with the
Americanos, Rayas was a _salteador_."
"A highway robber!"
"Neither more nor less, nor capitan."
"I heard you apply that unenviable appellation to him. But what can be
his motive for attempting to take your life?"
"Only to get rid of me; and then Lola--my poor sister would be more
easily--_carrai_! you know what I mean!"
I needed not a more ample explanation, though Calros proceeded to give
it.
"Nor deconocio," said he, speaking in a low voice, so as not to be heard
outside the tent, "I shall tell you all about it. You've seen my
sister. Well, perhaps to you, whose countrywomen I have heard say are
very fair-skinned, Lola may not appear much--"