On my arrival at the manager's office, I found him in consultation
with the Prefecto of Arequipa and the General in command of the
regular army. I was informed that another revolution was about to be
attempted in Peru in favor of General Pierola.
The General said he had a valuable package which must be delivered to
the Prefecto of Puno, that in the event the package was captured it
would ruin all their plans. Would I undertake to deliver it for the
government? I turned to the general manager and, speaking to him in
English, said: "There is some mystery connected with this. Before I
pledge myself to do this, it will be necessary to have a clear
understanding." He repeated my request to the General, who informed me
that a secret message had come over the wires that a revolution had
broken out again, and this time the insurgents had taken possession of
several points to prevent the government troops from reaching Puno;
that the package I was to take was a notice to the Prefecto of Puno,
for himself and those in favor of the government, to proceed to a
designated place, where the government troops would arrive, and march
by stages to Puno.
I realized the danger connected with this undertaking and accepted the
responsibility with some trepidation. A generous reward awaited me if
I succeeded, but it was understood in accepting the perilous message,
no instructions were to be given me; that I was to use my own judgment
and, if danger threatened the package, to destroy it before it should
be captured.
The little Arequipena had long since been rebuilt, and I at once
proceeded to put her in readiness for the journey. Manuel, my fireman,
was a native of Arequipa, a powerfully built and sturdy fellow. He
had been much among the British and American railway men and could
understand English.
After leaving orders as to the time of starting, I called on an
English friend and confided my mission. I asked him, in event of my
death, to write to my relatives in Scotland, giving the details. He
did everything in his power to dissuade me, but I told him his talk
was idle. No use, I had made up my mind. Upon seeing the Arequipena
ready, the men in the shops questioned me, but I evaded their
questions.
I went to the office of the general manager and he gave me the
package, unaddressed, done up securely, and sealed with red wax. I
placed it in the inside pocket of my vest. The manager asked me to be
careful with myself. He would much rather I should not go, but in my
state of mind, I was only too glad to get my thoughts off the sad
remembrance of Felicita's fate.
I left Arequipa at ten o'clock that night, cautiously and silently
leaving the station. I arrived at Puno the following evening and lay
over at Juliaca Junction a few hours. At this point the station master
asked me where I was going. I replied that I had orders for Puno.
Leaving Juliaca, I arrived at Puno at exactly five o'clock. I blew the
whistle for the station. I noticed that it was crowded with people,
but saw no one I would suspect of being a revolutionist. I put the
engine in the shed, and then went and washed up. I hid the package in
a secure place, where it was impossible for anyone to find it, as I
had planned to go to the hotel, eat supper and then learn my chances
for getting to the Prefecto, before I took the package from its hiding
place. The station of Puno, like all terminal stations of the Arequipa
railway, was fenced in by corrugated iron, about eight feet high, and
it was necessary to go through the station outlet, which was only
opened on the arrival and departure of trains, or another outlet
guarded by a dog and night watchman. I went out by the small gate,
familiarly bidding the watchman good evening. This gate only employes
had the right to use. I walked up town to the hotel Inca. I met
several gentlemen who knew me and asked one to play a game of
billiards before supper. No one seemed to think that my coming was
anything more than the usual routine of railway business.
After darkness, I lit a cigar and strolled down the street where the
Prefecto lived. I observed the sentry at the front entrance and upon
close observation, I found that the rear of the house could be
approached by a little back street connecting with a small alleyway by
means of which the house could be entered from the front.
I retraced my steps to the station but did not go near the gate. I
went around to the engine shed, where an opening had been made by the
boys so they could get to their rooms when out late nights and avoid
answering the questions of the watchman. When I reached the
Arequipena, the wipers were cleaning her. I spoke to the foreman, and
getting the package, went out the same way, no one noticing my
departure. Then going through, the narrow street I went up the small
alley and, seeing no one, presented myself at the main entrance of the
Prefecto's house. Here the sentry barred my passage and demanded the
password. I told him to call the officer of the guard, and when he
appeared I explained that I had important business with Senor
Prefecto, and desired to see him personally.
"Who are you?"
"The Senor Prefecto will answer that question," I replied.
I had folded the package and hid it in the lining of my overcoat which
I had thrown over my arm. The officer withdrew for a few minutes, but
soon returned and allowed me to pass the sentry. Halting in front of a
large door, a signal was given and it was opened by another officer. I
was ushered in, and from there into an adjoining room, where I was
told to wait.
Presently there came in a priest, then an officer with side arms, and
last Senor Prefecto, who asked me the nature of my business. I replied
that I had a message for the Prefecto, which could be imparted to him
alone. When my errand was communicated to him, he could do as he
chose.
There was much hesitation before my request for a private audience was
granted, but on being searched, overcoat and all, the Senor Prefecto
finally agreed to see me alone. When the others had retired, I took
the package from the lining of my overcoat and gave it to him.
I watched him closely as he read the contents. His face became
blanched, and his hands shook in abject fear, although nothing else
could have been expected from him, as he was an arrant coward.
After reading the document, he called the others. He handed it to the
priest, who asked where I came from. I told him. Then he wanted to
know if anyone had seen me enter here, and whether the arrival of the
Arequipena was known. I told him I thought no one would pay any
attention to the arrival of the train but would consider it the
ordinary routine railway business. A consultation was held, and after
they found that I knew the contents of the message I had brought, they
admitted me to their council. They asked me to get the Arequipena
ready, and they and the principal officers would flee to Arequipa. I
told them that such a course could not be pursued, as all the
telegraph offices were in the hands of the insurgents, and that our
departure would become known, the engine surrounded and all taken
prisoners. They agreed it would be impossible to escape that way, and
decided that about midnight they would escape on horseback. Just then
an officer arrived and reported that the insurgents had taken
possession of the station, and two engines, one being the regular
passenger. One of the engine runners had been taken prisoner. Their
spy had reported that it was their intention to take both engines and
several coaches loaded with soldiers and arms; also, large quantities
of powder had been put on the Arequipena for the purpose of destroying
Sumbay bridge--to prevent the passage of government troops.
I was forgotten for the time being, their fear for their own safety
outweighing all other considerations. Another officer came in and
breathlessly added the climax. The regiment of regulars had joined the
insurgents!
I was now doing some rapid thinking. If Sumbay bridge was destroyed
and the fact not known in Arequipa, the government troops would come
along and, with the engine crew, be hurled into eternity. The bridge
being about one hundred and seventy-five feet high and six hundred
feet long and on a curve with deep cuts on either side and a heavy
down grade, it would be impossible for any train to stop, unless
warned beforehand.
This was the murderous scheme of the insurgents.
I learned it was the intention of the insurgents to proceed to
Vincocaya in the morning, destroy as they went along, the telegraph
offices, wait at Vincocaya until the arrival of the regular passenger
train from Arequipa and then proceed to Sumbay bridge. They evidently
had calculated with a great deal of precision, and if their plans
carried, victory would certainly be theirs.
All these things were filling me with apprehension. I knew I would be
captured, but how could I save the bridge? I was determined to try at
all hazards.