A Fleet of Brigantines
Boom! A cannon-shot thundered from the nearest brigantine, and a ball
ploughed its way through the very heart of the fleet of Mexican canoes.
Boom! a second shot rang out, and was followed by a fusillade, which was
helped from each one of the ships.
"Forward!" called out Teotlili, who was with Roger and Philip. "Take no
heed of their shot, but close in and scramble aboard. Our numbers will
overwhelm them."
"Shout to the men to separate," called out Roger; "then there will be
less chance of being hit. Now, push on. A breeze would ruin our
chances."
"And one is coming, my leader," said Peter, mournfully, pointing to the
sky. "There is wind there, and it will fill the sails before we can get
to this fleet. They are a long cannon-shot from us yet, and there is
time for them to gather way. Better perhaps to retire."
"Better to risk disaster than do that," exclaimed Roger, sharply. "To
retire would be to dishearten the men. Forward! We will make a brave
attempt to capture them."
He urged the rowers to get the bulky craft ahead of the others, and,
thanks to the fact that more than thirty were plying the paddles, the
boat shot ahead and took the lead. Then Roger pointed to the largest of
the brigantines.
"Run us aboard that," he said in peremptory tones, "and, Philip, prepare
to follow me over the side. The natives will come after us willingly,
and with a rush we may capture the craft. Now, push on, push on!"
His eye shifted from the brigantines to the sky, and back to the surface
of the lake. It was ruffled already, he noticed, and the large, flapping
sails of the enemy's fleet flapped louder still, while some bellied. It
was a question of time, he knew, for if the brigantines could get the
wind, and a good one, too, they could sail away from the canoes, could
circle round them, and deluge the Mexicans with shot. Worse still, these
bulky vessels, the like of which had never appeared on the lake before
in the memory of man, would, if they were sailed boldly down upon the
canoes of the Mexicans, overwhelm them, and ride over them as if they
were straws floating in the water. It was a race, and Roger and his men
made strenuous efforts to win it.
"They are off. Look at their sails. They are under way! Master Roger,
'twould be better to beat a retreat."
Peter took him by the sleeve, but our hero shook him off.
"We have men to spare, even if the whole fleet be sunk," he said, "and
at this stage of the battle it is better to risk all than to set a bad
example. Let us show the Spaniards that we will not be conquered
without a struggle. Come, take the tiller, and set us aboard."
He was inflexible now that he had given his orders, and, come what
might, was determined to give battle to the enemy.
"It may seem unwise," he said to himself over and over again, "but it is
a necessary act, I am sure. Besides, if we could cripple one of the
brigantines only it would be something gained, even at the cost of
thousands of lives. And, if the wind is really coming steadily, they
would be after us if we retired, and would treat us just as badly as
they can do now. No. Attack is the only thing for us, and we will see it
through."
By now the two fleets were rapidly approaching one another--the
Spaniards moving slowly through the water, with their sails only half
filled, while the Mexican fleet advanced at a swifter pace, propelled by
paddles. Those who were free to do so answered the cannon-shots with
shouts and shrill whistles, while every canoe showed a number of dusky
figures brandishing their arms. Occasionally a shot would strike one of
the tiny craft, and she would sink at once, the occupants swimming away
to others, or turning their heads toward the city. Roger hardly noticed
these, however. His eye was fixed upon the large brigantine, which he
was determined to capture. And those aboard her evidently saw his
object, for they trained a gun upon him and took careful aim.
"'Tis the dog of a white giant," said the gunner who trained the piece.
"Stand back, while I blow him to atoms!"
He waved his comrades to one side and squinted along the sight. Then he
raised his head and peered over the side.
"The breeze comes stronger," he said with a husky laugh, "and maybe the
gun will not be required. But I will try. I would give a gold doubloon
to be able to strike the head from that fellow."
Once more his eye went to the piece, and he adjusted the aim minutely.
Then he touched the vent with his port-fire and sprang away. There was a
roar, a spout of smoke and flame flew from the brigantine's side, and a
shot hummed over the craft in which Roger stood.
"A close ball," he remarked with a laugh. "The Spaniards have singled us
out and hope to sink us. But we shall be there before they can repeat
the attempt. Warn the men to be ready."
Teotlili did as he was asked, and then stood beside his friend, both
watching the gunner aboard the brigantine. By now they were much closer,
and it was possible to make out his figure distinctly, and even to see
his features.
"A face which I have good cause to know," exclaimed Roger, suddenly,
staring at the enemy. "That is Alvarez, the traitor who stole the golden
sign and afterwards nearly stabbed me to death. There is added reason
for capturing that vessel. Urge the rowers on, Teotlili. Time is of the
utmost importance."
Time was, in fact, of more than the utmost importance. Every minute
brought added freshness to the wind, and the brigantines, which a little
while before had lain there rolling lazily, were now running free, and
churning up a salt wave at their bows. It became no longer a race, for
the Spaniards now bore down upon the fleet of Mexican canoes; but it
was simply a question of where the combatants would meet, and whether
the canoes would be able to grapple with the enemy.
"We shall be stove in and sunk at once," said Peter; "and now it is too
late to retire. Better give orders to all to seize the vessel and
abandon this."
"Whereby we shall make sure of her capture," exclaimed Roger. "A good
thought, Peter, and the order shall be given. Tell all the crew to
spring for the rail and fight their way on to the deck, Teotlili. Let
them desert this craft, for it will be useless. Ah! the distance grows
less. That ruffian is about to fire."
He pointed to the bows of the brigantine, to the figure posted there,
now without doubt that of Alvarez. He was peering over the rail again,
waiting for the craft to come to closer quarters, and the smoke of his
port-fire could be seen as he blew upon it.
"For the god of air!" he shouted out, catching sight of Roger and waving
the brand. "This will send him quicker to his end than would the stroke
of a dagger. One minute and he and his men will be blown from the
water."
He shook his fist at the approaching canoe, and then bent to his sights
again.
"Put us over a little," said Roger, quietly, touching Peter's arm to
attract his attention. "Now, Teotlili, let the men stop rowing."
Paddles were at once drawn from the water, while the way on the craft
allowed her to be steered to one side. She shot to the left, while the
brigantine held on her course. Almost at the same moment Alvarez blew
on his port-fire again and applied it to the vent, sending a charge of
small shot tearing through the air, to strike the surface of the lake
within a few feet of the canoe.
"Row, and put us over again," shouted Roger. "That is right. She will
strike us within a minute, and we must climb. Put her nose up as the
brigantine gets close, and then she will not roll us over."
There was a moment of confusion while the orders were carried out. But
Peter was an excellent seaman, and had been in dangerous work before. He
held his tiller firmly, beckoned to the rowers to give a few strokes
with their paddles, and then, just as the stem of the brigantine bore up
for the broadside of the craft, he put his helm over again, causing the
enemy's vessel to sail smoothly alongside.
"Aboard her! Cling to her rails," shouted Roger, springing to that side
of the canoe and leaping for the deck of the brigantine. He was followed
by every man aboard, and ere a minute had passed some fifty natives were
hanging to the brigantine--some half upon the deck, while others merely
retained a grip of the rail. As for their canoe, it swung round till the
stern was caught by the brigantine, which happened to roll at that
instant. The impact caused the Mexican craft to crumple up as if she had
been made of paper, and before anyone could have thought it possible it
had gone to the bottom. It was a desperate situation for the attackers,
and all recognized that victory must be won if they wished to live. One
by one they scrambled on to the deck, though a few were flung off by the
Spaniards. But the latter had been taken by surprise at the sudden
manoeuvre of the Mexicans, and before they could dash along to that
side, Roger and Peter and Philip stood firmly upon the deck, with some
forty natives beside them.
"Charge before they can use their muskets and crossbows!" shouted Roger.
"St. George! St. George! Follow to the stern."
His sword was held firmly in his hand, and he had long ago donned his
steel cap. With that to protect him, and a thickly padded cotton jerkin
over his chest, he flung himself upon the astounded Spaniards
recklessly, his eye searching for Alvarez. Men opposed him, and dashed
at him with their swords. But he hardly seemed to notice. His deft blade
put the thrusts and cuts aside, while his furious blows cut his
assailants down. One man even discharged a musket in his face, the
bullet tearing over his head, while the flames from the discharge singed
his hair. But Roger hardly noticed the incident, for at that very moment
he had caught sight of the crafty Alvarez standing in rear of his
comrades, where he had run from the bows.
"Ah, Alvarez the traitor!" he shouted scornfully, while the Spaniard
glared at Roger like a tiger. "Alvarez the traitor, who took us all in
and deceived us. Well, within a minute I shall be with you, and then
there shall be payment of my debt. Let every one who comes within reach
of that man secure him alive, for I want him. And be sure to take him
with the satchel which he wears beneath his arm."
Roger's quick eye had seen the same bag in which he had brought the
golden sign ashore now secured over Alvarez's shoulder, and doubtless
containing the coveted disc--the plaque which held the secret of the
Mexican treasure, and which, if he could only secure it, would lead to
an immense reward for himself and the expedition; that is, supposing he
and his comrades escaped from Mexico, which was not at all certain. In
the meanwhile they had their hands sufficiently full, for as they fought
on the deck of the Spanish brigantine, the other vessels sailing beneath
the flag of Castile bore down upon them, churning their way through a
mass of canoes, which were swamped for all the world as though they were
but tiny shells. None of the Mexican craft could withstand these heavy
vessels--not even those constructed by Peter Tamworth. The huge prows of
the brigantines crashed into them and bore them down, rolling them and
their freight over, and sending the canoes to the bottom. The natives,
however, could swim like fish, and while numbers made vain attempts to
clamber aboard the brigantines, others swam to their comrades or turned
for the long swim home. But they had to contend with more than water
alone, for as the brigantines ran, the Spanish plied the enemy with
their guns, using small shot, one of which was sufficient to wreck a
canoe, while broadsides often slew fifty and more of the unfortunate
Mexicans. Then the crossbow-men aboard turned to the brigantine on which
Roger and his friends fought, sending their shafts amongst them.
"Tell some of our men to keep down that fire," gasped Roger, halting for
a moment and turning to Teotlili. "Now, Peter and Philip, one more
effort and we will drive these Spaniards out into the lake. Shoulder to
shoulder, and bring up some of the natives with the lances. We will make
a capture, and will take this fellow Alvarez; for see, the disc is
hanging to his shoulder."
They gathered into a close body again, and at a shout from our hero
advanced along the deck at a run. The Spaniards opposed them stubbornly,
but the lances kept the swordsmen well away, while the crossbows held
the fire from the nearest brigantines. And while the lances hampered the
enemy, Roger and his two comrades, together with a number of the
Mexicans who were armed with their obsidian swords, dashed into close
quarters, and struck fiercely at their opponents. There was a desperate
mêlée, a struggle, the fate of which hung in the balance, and a conflict
at which Alvarez the traitor stared as if he were dumfounded. He was
cornered. He saw before him men who were determined to win, and men,
moreover, who had a personal enmity for himself. He remembered his
treachery--the dastardly blow which he had struck at the young giant
fighting in the very centre of the ship's deck, and he trembled now for
the consequences. He stood with the port-fire still smouldering in his
hand, and a look of terror on his face. Then seeing his comrades slowly
giving way, he dived below and disappeared for a moment.
"He is a coward at heart," shouted Roger, who had kept an eye on him.
"He has slunk below the deck, and there we shall find him. Now, one rush
and we shall have the craft."
"He has come up again. What devil's trick is he playing?" suddenly
exclaimed Philip. "See him; he has something in his hand! He is laying a
train!"
"And will blow the brigantine up! The villain!" shouted Roger. "Let us
get to him before he can apply the match."
They made frantic efforts to come at Alvarez, and their terrific blows
forced the enemy back. Then Roger rushed like a maddened bull into the
very centre of the Spaniards, and with a shout of consternation they
gave way and ran to the stern. But they were not allowed to pause there,
for the Mexicans were now fully roused. The lances were levelled, and
the natives came at a run full tilt at their enemies. It was a desperate
situation for the Spaniards. They had to choose between death from those
lances and the swords of the Englishmen, or a leap into the lake and the
possibility of being rescued by their friends or of being taken by the
enemy.
"Jump!" shouted Alvarez; "they shall not have the vessel. Jump! I have
made a train ready and will fire it. Now overboard, every man of you."
He glanced along the deck, gave Roger a look which spoke volumes, and
which threatened unutterable reprisals, and then blew on his match.
"We will send their god of air higher than he had hoped," he shouted
with a derisive laugh. "We will send him to the skies, and in little
pieces. Farewell, Roger de Luce, one-time lieutenant aboard the
brigantine, and now Roger the Cacique, lord of Mexico. We shall not meet
again."
The lances were within four yards of him when he thrust the match into
the black train trailing across the deck. But even then his coolness and
determination did not desert him. He pushed in the glowing end and
waited till the grains commenced to splutter. Then he tossed the brand
full at Roger, and setting the example to his men, leaped over the side,
the Spaniards following instantly, tumbling into the lake with a series
of loud splashes, and with loud shouts to attract the attention of their
comrades. As for the attackers, the Mexicans hardly realized what was
happening, for they were unacquainted with the powers of gunpowder, and
even then, after their conflicts with the Spaniards, did not know how
the thunder of their guns was produced, nor the means by which the ball
was driven. They stared over the side, therefore, while the crossbow-men
sent their shafts at the swimmers. And there they would have remained,
deafening the air with their shouts of triumph, had it not been for
their leader. Roger bounded forward and leaped at the spluttering train,
hoping to put out the fire with his foot. But it ran as swiftly as a man
could travel, and as he reached the black and smoking line which it had
left, he saw that it was already descending the rough ladder which led
below, and was racing over the piece of canvas on which Alvarez had laid
it. Beyond, in the darkness, which the flashes of the powder helped to
lighten spasmodically, was the faint outline of a barrel.
"The powder! We are dead men if we do not leap overboard!" he shouted.
Then he seized Teotlili and dragged him to the side.
"Tell all to leap at once for their lives," he said. "Come, Philip,
Peter, and every one. We will capture Alvarez in the water."
There was not a moment to be lost, and therefore, without another glance
at those aboard, he flung himself into the water, and swimming beneath
the surface as far as possible, rose at length when he was forced to do
so by the need of air. At the same instant there was a deafening
explosion, the brigantine split into fragments, while her deck and
spars, together with some dozen of the unhappy natives, were flung into
the air with terrific force, the _débris_ descending within a few
seconds, and splashing into the lake. Roger trod water and looked vainly
for Alvarez. But he was nowhere to be seen. Then he turned to look for
Peter and Philip, to find them close behind him.
"The enemy are being picked up by that brigantine," gasped Philip,
pointing to one which was close at hand. "We had better move away, or
they will take us prisoners."
"Or shoot us down with their shafts," spluttered Peter, who was no great
swimmer. "Better get aboard one of the canoes."
"We must do so at once," answered Roger. "Alvarez must escape for the
time, but I know that he is with the enemy now, and that he has the
disc. Let him wait, for I will take him yet, and make him pay for his
treachery. Ah, here is Teotlili."
"My lord, I have whistled for one of the larger craft. Let us get aboard
and be gone. It would be well to signal to all to retire. The
brigantines are too strong for us."
The Mexican noble trod water vigorously, and waved his arm. At the
signal one of the larger craft dashed up at a brisk pace, for the sails
had been hoisted again, and very soon she had taken the swimmers aboard.
Then Roger had an opportunity of seeing how the battle went, and
realized that Teotlili had spoken correctly. For the brigantines would
have conquered even if they had had no armed men aboard, and merely
sufficient to man the ropes and the tiller. The breeze had freshened,
and the surface of the lake was now driven into little waves, on which
the canoes danced up and down. And through the water came the
brigantines, handled by men who knew their work well. They came down
upon the line of canoes, and plunged through and through them, upsetting
them, crashing their timbers, and sending them to the bottom. Then they
wheeled, and came back again, spreading shot and crossbow shafts amongst
the swimmers and those on the canoes. Nothing could withstand them, and
though Roger and his friends made another gallant attempt to board one
of the enemy, they failed, a cannon-shot stripping their craft of its
free-board, and causing it to sink. Once more he was thrown into the
water, and with difficulty was picked up by another of the craft made up
of several canoes.
"Better turn our faces to Mexico," said Teotlili, who possessed
wonderful vitality. "All is lost here, my lord, while there we can still
fight. The ships are too strong for us."
Roger reluctantly admitted the fact, and at once the shrill whistle, the
signal for retreat, sounded across the lake. The canoes turned about,
and men laboured at the oars to get away from the enemy. But the breeze
that day was unfriendly to the Mexicans. It filled the sails of the
brigantines, till the vessels heeled with the pressure, while they came
through the water with a big foaming wave at their cutwaters. Their pace
easily enabled them to come up with the flying canoes, and once again
they ploughed through them, sinking them and killing or drowning the
occupants. It was a disaster, and Roger was not to escape from it so
easily. For Alvarez had never lost sight of him.
"That is the craft," he bellowed in the ear of the commander of the
brigantine on which he had taken refuge. "There is their god of air, the
Mexican cacique hailing from England. Follow the canoe, and you will win
honour for all of us. Cortes will give you promotion and a special
reward."
He raced to the bows and stood there staring out at Roger, shaking his
fist at him, and aiming a musket at his figure as often as possible.
"We shall be overwhelmed before we can return to the city," said
Teotlili, after a little while. "They sail so swiftly that even we
cannot get away. I fear that all will perish."
"Then let us strike off this course and make for the northern shore,"
exclaimed Roger, standing to his full height and surveying the
terrifying scene. "We have drifted close in there during the battle, and
a half-hour's run will take us to the land. There we can desert the
canoes and make overland to the city. Better that than see all perish."
It was, in fact, the only means of saving the occupants of the Mexican
fleet, which had put out with such confidence from the city, and at a
signal from Teotlili all turned their prows towards the shore. And now,
for the very first time on this disastrous day, fortune smiled upon the
Mexicans. For it happened that the shore on this northern side of the
lake shelved very gradually--so much so that within a little while the
fleet was fleeing over a portion of the lake where the water was very
shallow. The brigantines came after them at their swiftest pace, till
the foremost came to a gradual stop, and remained fixed in the mud. Then
the others lay to, firing with their guns.
"Had all gone ashore we should have had them at our mercy," said Roger,
in tones of vexation. "But the attempt would be useless now. They can
lie off within easy range, and we should lose heavily. Better make the
best of our way home."
"And comfort ourselves with the thought that we have made a brave
attempt, and that we have aided in the destruction of one of the
vessels," answered Teotlili. "My lord must not be down-hearted. These
men who have died on the lake to-day have done service to Mexico, for we
cannot always win. We have opposed an enemy of whom we were afraid in
former times, and we have shown our men that by using strategy we can
capture vessels. May the opportunity not occur later for a second
attack? Surely it will be possible, with the knowledge gained this day,
to organize an attempt on another occasion. We can lay an ambush for the
Spaniards on the water, and perhaps take all these brigantines. Let my
lord consider that, and think of the future rather than of what has just
happened."
The noble laid his hand on Roger's shoulder, for he saw that the latter
was troubled and depressed at the defeat suffered by the fleet. And who
can blame Roger for feeling so? The whole responsibility of the affair
rested on his shoulders, and as he made for the shore he asked himself
over and over again whether he had not been rash--mad, indeed--to make
such an attempt.
"It might have succeeded," he said at length. "Had the wind not risen we
could have surrounded the fleet of brigantines, and they would have been
overwhelmed. Yes, the attempt was justifiable, and its non-success is
no fault of ours. Circumstances were too strong for us. And, as Teotlili
says, the knowledge we have gained will prove useful, for we will lay a
trap for the enemy."
His mind at once became occupied with the thought, and so interested was
he that he hardly noticed when the canoes reached the land.
"We are as close as we can get now," said Teotlili, touching him on the
arm. "We had better wade ashore and run to the city, for their horsemen
might attempt to cut us off. Hark! I hear sounds of fighting."
They stood up in the canoe and listened, the noise of some conflict
coming to their ears.
"The first attack on the causeways," said Roger. "We need have no fear
of the enemy breaking in while we are absent. But we had better run,
for, as you say, the Spaniards might send out their horse to cut us off.
Let the men keep together."
They stepped into the water, and waded across the mud-flats till they
reached dry ground, the Mexicans dragging their canoes after them. Then
all set their faces toward Mexico, where they arrived within half an
hour. They found each of the three Spanish divisions hotly engaged on
the causeways, and hastened at once to aid in the defence, the arrival
of Roger being hailed with loud shouts of triumph.
"The cacique has come," the men bellowed to one another. "Here is the
fighting chief who has promised to lead us. We will show these Spaniards
what we can do."
Men rushed out and picked the young giant up in their arms. Then he was
borne to the main causeway, to where the King of Mexico was stationed.
"I am glad that you have come," said the latter, grasping his hand
warmly. "I am lost without you. You know these men against whom we
fight, and you are able to meet their strategy with methods which are
new to us. Come to the edge of the breach and see what is happening."
They walked along the causeway to that part which faced the far shore,
and was within a stone's throw of it. A wide breach had been made, on
the near side of which the Mexican crossbow-men were posted, while on
the far side stood the Spaniards, baulked for the moment, and viciously
plying the defenders with a hail of shot and cannon-ball. The attack had
commenced, in fact--an attack which was to develop, and which was to be
of unparalleled ferocity.