IN THE FIELD.
The duty confided to Moonshine by General Cárdenas was not difficult to
carry out. The track of the Mexicans was clearly marked on the ground,
and the hunter suspected that the bargain the general had proposed
to him was merely a pretext, and that in reality he wished to keep
him by his side, in order to punish him if he had laid a trap for the
Spaniards. Still the couple continued to gallop side by side, talking
pleasantly and apparently well satisfied with each other. The day was
splendid, the sky blue, and the sun dazzling; the leaves, washed by the
rain, were greener and dew laden; the night storm had refreshed the
atmosphere, and the hot sunbeams incessantly drawing out the moisture,
made the earth smoke like the mouth of a crater; the birds twittered
beneath the foliage, the squirrels leapt from branch to branch, and at
times elks and antelopes, awakened by the sound of the horses, rose
amid the lofty grass, looked around them timidly, and then bounded off
in all directions. Men and horses unconsciously underwent the influence
of the scene; they eagerly inhaled the air impregnated with the sharp
scent of flowers and plants, and felt happy at living.
"On my honour," said the general, "give me the country. It is pleasant
to breathe the fresh air, when you have been confined within stone
walls for several days."
"Yes, you are right, General," the Canadian answered, joyously; "life
is splendid in the desert; existence in town is ridiculous. Men were
great asses for inventing them, and restricting their horizon,
when they had space and liberty before them. Deuce take towns. The
handsomest house is not worth the blade of grass that shelters the
grasshopper we can hear singing so merrily."
"You seem to love the desert, Señor Moonshine?"
"I, General? Why I was born in it. My father was in the service of the
Hudson's Bay Company as trapper. My mother brought me into the world
on the shore of one of our magnificent Canadian lakes. My eyes first
opened beneath the majestic verdant arcades of a virgin forest. The
first horizon I gazed at was surrounded by chains of mountains whose
haughty crest no human foot has yet trodden. Oh! General, how glorious
it is to live in the desert without ties of any sort, to feel your
heart beat freely in your bosom, to aspire through every pore the
fragrant exhalations of the savannah. Alone with your horse, with no
regrets for the past or care for the future, you feel that you live,
and you unconsciously become a better man, because you are nearer to
GOD whose sublime book ever lies open before you. Such an existence
is the only true one, the only possible for a stout-hearted man; the
other is only a continual slavery, an incessant restraint which withers
ideas, dulls the intellect, and converts man such as GOD created him
into a badly organized machine, a quarrelsome and wicked creature, who
goes to his grave pale, sickly, and discontented."
"By Jove! That is what I call enthusiasm, my boy," the general said,
laughing. "Unfortunately, all this is only good in theory. What would
become of civilization if everybody followed your example?"
"Oh, yes," the hunter exclaimed, with a disdainful smile, "that's the
great word, 'civilization'--that is to say, slavery; brutalization of
the masses for the advantage of ambitious and insatiable minorities;
an association of bandits decorated with pompous titles and sounding
names, among whom strength represents the law, and who answer
arguments by gaols, prisons, and bullets; where everything is paid
for, life as well as death, and even the very vitiated atmosphere,
breathed in muddy, narrow streets, and low, stifling houses. Deuce
take civilization and the rogues who invented it for their own profit!
Civilization is the plague and cause of all the diseases that afflict
humanity. I'll have none of it."
The general listened to the hunter with increasing surprise. The
nervous blunt language involuntarily seduced him. It was the first time
he found himself in the presence of one of those wood rangers who,
impatient of control, have resolutely broken with the life of society.
He could not understand this strange nature, so contrary to those he
had hitherto elbowed in life.
While conversing thus the general and the Canadian reached the ford
where Sotavento had escaped that morning. The column halted for a
moment; for about two leagues on the other side of the river ran a
chain of lofty, wooded mountains, while an enormous barranca yawned
in the centre of this range, and formed a narrow defile--the only
place by which the Spanish troops could pass to continue their march.
The general examined with growing anxiety the gloomy landscape spread
out before him. All around was silent and desolate. In vain did the
general survey the plain through his telescope; he could see nothing
but trees growing very close together, through which it seemed almost
impossible to force a passage. The canyon or barranca began just
opposite the ford, and there was no doubt but that the Mexican army
had followed this, the sole practicable road, for the traces of its
passage were deeply marked in the ground. The general frowned, and
looked suspiciously at the hunter; the latter, who had fallen behind to
tighten his girths, went up to him.
"I understand--" he said to him.
"What do you understand?"
"Why, that you suspect me, General."
"And suppose I did, what then?"
"You would be wrong."
"Why so?"
"For a hundred reasons."
"Tell me one of them."
"For what purpose should I have led you into a trap?"
"To betray me, ¡viva Cristo! If, as I suppose, you belong to the
Mexican army."
"I do belong to that army," the hunter replied coolly; "but what does
that prove?"
"What it proves?" the general exclaimed furiously, "That you are a spy,
and that I shall have you shot."
"That is not answering, General, but knocking a man down."
"Be it so; recommend your soul to God."
"A man like myself is ever ready to appear before Him. Could you say
the same?"
The general stamped his foot furiously.
"But give me a reason, at least," he said.
"I did give you one; but you would not accept it."
"Seek another."
"Well, if you wish to argue the matter, I am quite agreeable," the
hunter, who still quiet, calm, and straightforward, continued.
"What has occurred between us? I informed you that the Mexicans had
abandoned their camp, leaving their train behind. Was that false? No;
it was true, and I told you nothing else. You resolved to set out in
pursuit of the insurgents, and instead of urging you on to do so, I
recommended you to remain at Coahuila. Is that like a traitor? I do
not think so. You insisted on my following you, and I obeyed. My part
was entirely restricted to that, I think you will allow, General? Now
that you find yourself in front of a defile in which you are afraid of
being attacked, you turn upon me. Is that fair? I fancy that if you
are really afraid of falling into an ambuscade, there is one very easy
thing to do."
"What is it?"
"Why, turn back and reach Coahuila again as quickly as possible; if
the Mexicans wished to lay a trap for you, they will be caught in it
themselves, as they leave their guns and ammunition in your hands."
The general reflected.
"What would you do in my place?" he asked.
"Well, I will be frank with you, General. We men of the desert regard
courage in a manner diametrically opposite to yours. As we generally
fight only to save our life or our plunder, we never venture on an
action unless we have almost a certainty of success."
"Hence, under the present circumstances?"
"I should turn back without shame, and be off to Coahuila at the same
pace at which I started, that is, a gallop; that is what I should do. I
can understand that you would act differently."
"Ah!" the general said, giving him a piercing glance, "For what reason?"
"Nonsense, General, you are making fun of me; for you know as well as
I do. Come, have me shot, and let us have an end of it."
"I shall not have you shot," he answered; "for, traitor or no, you have
spoken to me like an honest man. Go where you please; you are free."
The Canadian felt involuntarily affected by this remark.
"Thanks, General. Now take my advice, and do not push on."
"Does danger really exist?"
"I cannot tell you; still, I confess that I have a bad opinion of that
black large hole I see over there; it seems to me to contain a storm."
"Yes, I feel that I ought to follow your advice, but unhappily I cannot
do so. The troops of the king, my master, must not appear to recoil
before such miserable foes; for it would be giving these scoundrels an
importance which they do not possess."
"You know better than I how you should act; but, I repeat, take care."
"Oh, be sure of that. Well, good-bye; get away before the action
begins."
"Well, then, thank you, and good-bye, General--I dare not wish you
good luck."
The Canadian turned his horse and started at a gallop in the direction
of Coahuila. The general looked after him till he was hidden by a turn
in the road.
"What a singular man!" he muttered; "If he is a spy I never saw one
like him."
It was high time, however, to come to some resolution, and so the
general summoned his officers around him.
"Caballeros," he said bluntly, when they were assembled, "I am afraid
that we acted very imprudently in venturing to pursue the enemy with
so small a force as we have at our disposal. Although I do not wish
to throw any of my responsibility as chief upon you, still I deem it
urgent to take your advice before crossing this stream, beyond which,
as you can see from here, is a canyon, which, if I am not mistaken,
contains a formidable ambuscade. Answer me frankly, which shall we do?
Push boldly on, at the risk of what may happen; or quietly turn back
and regain our entrenchments?"
The officers were mostly of opinion that they must march forward at
all risks. The effect of a retreat made almost in the presence of the
enemy might have as disastrous an influence upon the prestige that
surrounded the Spanish army as a battle lost. All these brave soldiers
were ashamed at appearing to fly before an invisible enemy; for as yet
only vague suspicions were entertained, which might be false, more
especially as the plain continued to be deserted, and nothing of a
dubious nature had been perceived.
"Very well, caballeros," the general said with a bow to his officers,
"we will march on; if fate betrays our courage we will fall like brave
men. Long live Spain!"
"Long live Spain!" the officers repeated enthusiastically.
"Captain Don Luis Obregozo, take two hundred horse, and make a
reconnoissance in the canyon; be very prudent, and do not venture too
far. Don Pedro Castilla will hold himself in readiness to support you
with five hundred cavalry, should it be necessary; the rest of the army
will not cross the stream till your return. Go at once."
The two officers selected by the general immediately prepared to
obey; the troopers, leaving the infantry they carried with the main
body, crossed the ford, and galloped into the plain. The general gave
orders for the troops to be drawn up in a column, in order to lose as
little time as possible in passing, and, opening his telescope, he
attentively followed the movements of the two detachments he had sent
on ahead. The second body, commanded by Captain Castilla, halted about
halfway between the stream and the canyon, ready to act on the first
alarm, Captain Obregozo boldly pushed on, sending a few troopers ahead
as scouts, while others scattered on either side the main body, and
examined the thickets. The detachment advanced thus almost into the
entrance of the defile, and nothing suspicious occurred. On reaching
this point the captain ordered a halt.
"My lads," he said to his soldiers, "if the enemy is really in there,
it is unnecessary for us all foolishly to enter the wolf's throat; a
few men of good will are enough. Who will follow me?"
The soldiers remained motionless and silent.
"What?" the captain exclaimed with a frown, "Does not a man offer to
follow me?"
"It is not that, Captain," an old sergeant replied roughly; "you know
very well that we are all of good will and ready to follow you to
purgatory; choose yourself the men you will take with you."
"Very good," the captain said gaily, as he pointed out five or six
troopers. They at once quitted the ranks, and placed themselves behind
the captain; The latter, after temporarily entrusting the command of
the detachment to his lieutenant, with strict orders not to enter the
defile, whatever might happen, but, on the contrary, to fall back on
the reserve if he did not return, boldly entered the canyon, followed
by his weak escort. Several minutes elapsed, and then a discharge was
suddenly heard, and two riderless horses galloped back into the plain.
"The captain! Let us save the captain!" the dragoons shouted, as they
waved their sabres frantically.
And without listening to the remonstrances of their lieutenant, who
tried in vain to hold them back, they dashed irregularly into the
defile. The officer, finding his efforts useless, bravely placed
himself at their head. Then the sound of a regular combat and a well
sustained musketry fire was audible.
"Let us support our brothers!" Captain Castilla exclaimed, drawing his
sword.
"Forward, forward!" the soldiers yelled.
The second detachment, starting at a gallop, in its turn was engulfed
in this accursed defile, which, like the mouth of the infernal regions,
swallowed up everything but gave nothing back. The general, as we said,
was attentively watching the movements of his scouts.
"The unhappy men!" he exclaimed, on seeing what was going on, "The
maniacs! They will be killed to the last man. Come back, come back, I
command you," he shouted, without reflecting that the troops he thus
addressed were too far off to hear or obey him, and that had they by
chance heard, they would not have obeyed him, owing to the frenzy which
seemed to have suddenly assailed them.
The soldiers remaining on the river bank also saw, not what was going
on in the defile, but on the plain; they began muttering at the
inactivity to which their chief condemned them, and brandished their
weapons with a fury which only required an excuse to break out.
"Shall we let our brothers be butchered?" an old officer asked, biting
his moustache passionately.
"Silence, caballero," the general answered savagely; "had they obeyed
my orders, this would not have occurred."
"But the misfortune is done at present, General; we must not desert
seven hundred men in that way."
"Look, look," the soldiers exclaimed, on perceiving several horsemen
issue from the defile vigorously pursued by others, who speedily caught
them up and sabred them.
This last episode raised the exasperation of the troops to the highest
pitch, a species of vertigo seized on them, and refusing to listen to
anything, many of them forced their horses into the river.
"Stop, stop!" the general shouted in a voice of thunder, "Since you
absolutely insist on marching to an inevitable butchery, let me at
least guide you."
The soldiers recognizing, in spite of their excitement, the voice they
had so long been accustomed to obey, halted instinctively. Then the
general restored order among them as far as was possible, and the ford
was crossed rapidly and in a manner that did not endanger the position
of the army. On reaching the plain the infantry dismounted and formed;
the general arranged them so that they should support the cavalry, and
drew his sword, whose blade flashed in the sun.
"I throw away the scabbard," he shouted in a voice heard by all;
"forward! For the king and for Spain!"
"Long live Spain!" the soldiers shouted.
The Spanish army then rushed like an avalanche into the defile, whence
the noise of the invisible combat could still be heard.