MOONSHINE.
It was about four in the morning; the night storm had completely swept
the sky, which was of a deep azure; day would speedily appear. General
Cárdenas, leaning sadly over the battlements of the town wall, was
reflecting, while his eye wandered over the plain and the camp of the
Mexicans, whose bivouac fires were beginning to die out. A little
distance behind him, aides-de-camp and orderly officers carelessly
leaning on their sabres were waiting with ill-disguised impatience till
their chief thought proper to leave the ramparts and return to the
cabildo.
The general, we said, was reflecting. His thoughts were sad and gloomy.
Provisions and ammunition, squandered by the officers ordered to serve
them out, were running short; the garrison, tired of being shut up
within the walls, were beginning to mutter, and would ere long complain
loudly. Coahuila had been so completely invested by the Mexican army
that, from the day the siege began, no one had been able to enter or
leave the town. The general, consequently, was as much deprived of news
as if he were five hundred leagues away from Mexico. The soldiers,
accustomed since the beginning of the insurrection to live at the
expense of the country people, plunder, and ill-treat them, did not
like the confined diet to which they were constrained. Unpleasant
rumours circulated among them, although it was impossible to trace them
to their source. The officers themselves were discouraged, and desired
the end of this state of things, which every day that passed rendered
worse. The general, therefore, saw with terror the moment at hand when
all would fail him at once, and he would be forced to throw himself on
the mercy of enemies whom he had supposed so contemptible, and whom
he had taken a delight in exasperating by unlooked-for and objectless
cruelty. Hurled thus from his high estate into a bottomless abyss, the
general was suffering from one of those cold and concentrated attacks
of fury which are the more terrible because they can find no outlet.
All at once the general fancied he could distinguished the shadowy
outline of a man, who was approaching the ramparts with the utmost
caution. Still this man appeared to care very little about being seen
from the town, and only tried to conceal himself from the sentries, who
might have noticed him in the camp. Some considerable time elapsed ere
this man, who advanced looking back anxiously every moment, arrived
within pistol shot of the ramparts. The general rose, and, making an
officer a sign to approach, whispered a few words in his ear. The
officer went off, and the general returned to his post of observation.
The stranger still advanced, apparently growing bolder the nearer he
drew to the ramparts. All at once several men dashed out of a postern
gate, and ere the stranger had time to attempt a useless resistance, he
was thrown down, bound, and carried into the town by the men who had so
cleverly seized him. Still, we are bound to mention that the soldiers
experienced no difficulty in dragging their prisoner along; on the
contrary, he affected to follow them with the most perfect readiness.
The general, while waiting for the prisoner, walked up and down the
ramparts; when he was brought up to him, he looked at him for a moment
in silence. The stranger was a young man, with an intelligent and
sarcastic face, tall and powerfully built.
"Who are you, scamp?" the general asked him roughly, "And how is it
that you dare to prowl so near the walls of a besieged town?"
"Hang it all," the stranger replied, in excellent Spanish, though with
a marked foreign accent, "I was not prowling round the walls."
"What were you doing, then?"
"I was merely trying to get into the town."
"This is an impudent scoundrel," the general said to himself, "but at
least he is frank. And, why, pray, did you want to enter Coahuila?"
"If you do not mind, General, giving orders that I should be freed from
these cords, which annoy me, I shall answer you with greater ease."
"Very good; but I warn you that, at the slightest suspicious movement,
I shall have your brains blown out."
"That is your business, General," the stranger replied carelessly.
At a signal from the general the stranger was unfastened; he gave a
sigh of relief on feeling himself at liberty.
"There," he said, "now a man can talk."
"Are you disposed to answer me?"
"Ask me a question."
"What is your name?"
"Moonshine."
"A capital name for a night bird."
"It is mine."
"What are you?"
"Canadian, and wood ranger; but, look ye, General, if we go on this way
we shall never come to an end. I prefer coming straight to facts. I
have come to offer you a bargain."
"What is it?"
"Oh, oh, General, do not go on too fast; in the first place how much
will you give me?"
"Why in the first place I must know--"
"The amount, that is true; well, I will tell you,--four hundred
ounces."[1]
"What! Four hundred ounces!" the general exclaimed, "You seem to me to
be an amusing scoundrel; but take care I do not hang you, in order to
teach you not to play the mountebank with me."
"That is the reward for doing people a service," the Canadian said with
a philosophic shrug of his shoulders.
"But, animal," the general continued impatiently, "what service are you
doing me?"
"An immense one, General."
"Come, explain yourself."
"I am most anxious to do so, but you will not let me speak."
The general had a knowledge, or fancied he had, of his fellow men; he
remembered his interview with Oliver, and understood that if this man,
knowing his reputation, ventured to speak in this way to him, he must
have very powerful incentives, and feel very sure of impunity; besides,
his own serious position made it a bounden duty for him to obtain
information by all possible means. He therefore restrained himself,
resolved if the Canadian was really laughing at him to have him hung at
once.
"Well, speak, and the plague smother you!" he said to him.
"In that case, General, the matter is this. But pledge me first your
word of honour that if what I am going to tell you is really as
important to you as I fancy, you will at once pay me the sum I ask."
"Very good; but if you deceive me you will be hung or shot--the choice
being left you."
"Very good; it is a bargain. Where is the money?"
"Do you suppose that I carry four hundred ounces about me?"
"Hang it, what is to be done?" the Canadian said, scratching his head.
"Stay," the general said, as he showed him two diamond rings, "these
are worth nearly double the sum you ask. Are you satisfied?"
"On your word, now? Well, I will risk it. Well, listen. This night I
had sheltered myself as well as I could about three or four leagues
from here, for the purpose of camping. Unfortunately for me, the storm
came on, and compelled me to seek a safer shelter."
"Cut it short."
"I will, General. The night was so dark that, not knowing the country,
I lost my way, and got into the very centre of the Mexican camp."
"Ah, ah! And I suppose they gave you a warm reception?"
"They gave me no reception at all, General."
"What? Did they turn you out?"
"Who turn me out?"
"Hang it, how do I know? The sentries, perhaps."
"Why, General, that is the very point; the camp is deserted; the
Mexican army has disappeared."
The general gave a bound of surprise.
"Are you mocking me, scoundrel?" he shouted violently; "Are you aware
whom you are speaking to when you come to tell me such falsehoods?"
"Hang it, General, it is easy to assure yourself whether I speak the
truth, by going to see. However, it appears that the Mexicans were in a
hurry to be off, for they left behind them cannon, forage--everything,
in a word."
"That is strange," the general muttered, as he fixed on the Canadian
a glance that seemed trying to read his very heart's secrets, which
the hunter sustained without evincing the slightest confusion, "that
is strange," he repeated; "and do you not know the cause of this
precipitate departure?"
"How should I know it? I am a stranger. Perhaps, though--but no, they
cannot know it yet, as I expected to obtain a good reception from them
by telling them of it."
The hunter spoke with such simple frankness, his face displayed such
candour, that the general had not for a moment a thought of suspecting
him; on the contrary, he listened to him with the most earnest
attention.
"What more?" he asked eagerly.
"What, do you not know it?"
"It seems not."
"And yet it has caused a regular disturbance. It is reported that
General Iturbide has been surprised by the Viceroy's troops and taken
prisoner, after an obstinate resistance, so that the insurrection is
once again subdued."
At this moment an officer, who had gone off with several others to
obtain information about the Canadian's statement, ran up breathless.
"General," he said, "what this man has told you is true; the Mexican
army has abandoned its camp with such haste that hardly anything has
been removed."
"Then," said the hunter, "I have earned my money, General?"
"Yes," he answered, as he handed the Canadian the rings, which he
carefully placed in his bosom. "But," he added, as he looked at him
fixedly, and laid a stress on every word, "as you might, after all,
be a traitor and clever spy, you will remain here till we obtain more
thorough information. You appear to me to be much sharper than you
pretend, and your head shall answer for your sincerity."
"I shall be very glad to remain here," the hunter replied carelessly;
"here or elsewhere makes little difference to me. Still I do not quite
understand how I can be a traitor, since you recognize the truth of
what I have told you."
Moonshine allowed himself to be led away without the slightest emotion,
and the general mounted his horse, in order to assure himself of the
certainty of the facts announced to him. The camp was most thoroughly
deserted, not a man or horse remained in it. Everything testified
to the precipitation with which the Mexicans had retired. They had
attempted to carry off a few guns and baggage waggons; but, doubtless
discouraged by the difficulties they had to overcome, and probably
demoralized by some crushing news, they had left guns and train
scattered in all directions. Tumbrils filled with ammunition, arms,
stores, even provisions, were thrown about in disorder, as if they had
at first intended to remove them, but, pressed by time, had been forced
to leave them behind.
The road followed by the Mexican army was perfectly visible, not only
by the deep marks on the saturated ground, but also by the utensils of
every description, uniforms, and arms scattered on the road. It was no
longer a retreat, but a flight. The general tried in vain to seek the
clue to this insoluble enigma. The chief of the Mexican army could not
have had the idea of laying a trap for him. Everything contradicted
this supposition; it was not admissible that an experienced soldier,
for the purpose of deceiving his enemy, would consent to abandon to him
his guns, ammunition, and even provisions; such a trick would have been
most clumsy, since it would provide the Spaniards with all they wanted,
as the Mexicans must be perfectly aware.
It was more simple to believe that what the hunter said was true; that
General Iturbide has been defeated and made a prisoner by the Spanish
troops, and that the Mexicans, terrified by this disastrous news, had
been assailed by a panic and disbanded, seeking their safety in flight,
as had happened several times already during the course of the war.
Still, the general in chief, as a prudent and experienced man, would
not risk anything till he had heard the opinions of his officers. After
giving the requisite orders for a guard to be placed in the camp, he
galloped back to the town and summoned a council of war. Moonshine was
summoned before the council, and was heard again. The hunter repeated,
without the variation of a syllable, what he had already told the
general.
This deposition produced a marked effect on the members of the council.
Each was of opinion that they must at once start in pursuit of the
fugitives, in order not to allow them time to recover from their terror
and reassemble. This was the general's opinion too; still, under
circumstances of such gravity, he had desired to avoid responsibility,
and appear constrained to yield to the wishes of his officers. As
generally happens in such cases, the Spaniards passed from a state of
the utmost dejection to the greatest braggadocio. The Mexicans, who
had so long caused them to tremble, were only scoundrels, unworthy to
contend with brave men, and they could be brought to order with the
flat of the sabre.
The general, considering it useless to leave a strong garrison in the
town, as the enemy had retired, and not wishing, in the case of the
Mexicans making a stand, to advance without an imposing force, ordered
two regiments of cavalry to mount, each trooper having an infantry
man on his crupper, and took two field guns with him. This small army
amounted to about five thousand men, more than sufficient to pursue and
destroy demoralized bands, who would probably attempt no defence and be
easily cut up. When all was ready for the start, General Cárdenas gave
orders to bring up the Canadian, who had first brought him the happy
news of the enemy's flight. The latter arrived, accompanied by the
officer to whom he had been given in charge. The general smiled on the
hunter.
"Listen to me," he said to him, "you appear a man of sense. You will
come with us."
"What to do, General?" the hunter answered coldly; "I suppose you do
not want me anymore?"
"I should like to have you near me."
"In order to blow out my brains, if you think proper to do so, eh?"
"That is possible; but come, notwithstanding."
"That would not be fair, General; I have honestly kept to my bargain.
It is not my fault if, instead of quietly remaining here, you think
proper to roam about the country at the risk of something happening."
"Then your advice would be that I should remain here?" the general said
to him, with a searching glance.
"I have no advice to give you, General; I am neither a soldier nor an
officer, and your affairs do not concern me. I tell you my opinion,
that is all."
"But you are a wood ranger?" he continued, after a moment's reflection.
"Yes, General, and nothing else."
"In that case, you will make a famous scout."
"You want to make a second bargain with me, I think."
"Perhaps so. Do you refuse?"
"I am not at liberty either to accept or decline. You have the power on
your side, and I am forced to obey."
"I like to hear you talk in that way. Perhaps you can find the enemy
for me?"
The hunter detected the snare.
"Hang it!" he said simply, "As a wood ranger I can easily follow a
trail. Put me on the traces of the Mexicans, and if they have not run
to earth like prairie dogs, or flown away like eagles, there are heavy
odds in favour of my bringing you up with them."
The general reflected.
"Listen to me," he said directly after, "I trust to you. If you serve
me faithfully, you shall be nobly rewarded; if you deceive me, you will
die."
"I do not understand you; I will try to bring you up with the people
you are looking for; but I cannot pledge myself to more, as the rest
concerns you."
"That is all I ask."
"On those conditions I am your man."
"Come along, then," the general continued; "but," he added, looking
fixedly at him, "remember that you risk your head; at the slightest
suspicion I will have you strung up without the least hesitation."
The Canadian merely shrugged his shoulders in answer to this threat,
smiled craftily, mounted a horse that was brought him, coolly placed
himself on the general's right hand, and at the word of command the
small corps left the town in good order. So soon as it reached the
plain, it proceeded towards the Mexican camp, curiously watched by all
the inhabitants of Coahuila, who had flocked to the ramparts to witness
the departure of the Spaniards, and who, in all probability, formed
internal vows never to see them again.
[1] About £1600 of our currency.