IN THE TRACK OF COLUMBUS.
Spread sails, out oars, the galley's beak
Points westward where the sunset dies.
The fabled land of gold we seek,
Which glows beneath the tropic skies,--
A jewelled land of Paradise;
The waters round our prow are curled,
White foam bells streak their turquoise blue,
We leave behind the ancient world,
To seek the new.
Spread sails, out oars, a path of gold
Streams from the sinking sun at eve,
As those bold mariners of old,
Again romances wild we weave,
Of splendours we would fain believe;
Yon path leads on to fairyland,
Which glows within the sunset's heart,
We anguish for that magic strand,
And so depart.
Notwithstanding the notoriety of the Atlantic Ocean for storms, _The
Bohemian_ met with little or no bad weather during her voyage to
Cholacaca. Blue skies, blue seas and fair winds, it was an ideal
cruise, and had it not been necessary to reach Tlatonac with as little
delay as possible, Philip would willingly have prolonged this ocean
tramping for an indefinite period. Jack, however, was anxious to see
Dolores; the special correspondent looked forward eagerly to the fierce
delights of possible battles, and Peter hankered after the insect
tribes of Central America; so, in deference to their wishes, Philip
made his yacht act well up to her reputation as a fast boat. _The
Bohemian_ did not belie her fame, and made a bee-line straight for her
destination.
Ignoring Lisbon, where boats generally touch on their way to South
America, the yacht held on straight for the Azores, passed them in the
night, and continued her course to Cuba, from whence she could drop
down to Tlatonac in a few days. She touched at Havana, which was a
trifle out of her course, at the express request of Jack, who had a few
commissions to fulfil for Dolores; otherwise her nearest point of call
would have been Kingston, in the Island of Jamaica.
Truly there are worse lots in the world than a lotus-eating existence
on board a crack yacht, and none of the four friends found the voyage
too long or too dull. Peter attended to his entomological traps; Tim,
obeying his journalistic instincts, made notes of daily events for
future use; and Philip, in conjunction with his sailing master,
attended to the navigation of the boat. The only idle person on board
was Jack Duval, who did nothing but eat, sleep, drink, and think of
Dolores, save when he amused himself by worrying his busier companions.
Thanks to the powerful engines of _The Bohemian_ and the uniform
speed at which they were kept the whole time, the voyage to the
Carribean Sea was accomplished in a wonderfully short period.
Occasionally, when the bearings of the engines became heated by
constant friction, the screw was stopped and the sails were set, when
the yacht, leaning slightly to one side, swirled through the waters
under a cloud of canvas. They depended chiefly on steam power, however,
and it was rarely that the drum of the screw ceased resounding through
the vessel as she held on steadily westward in the eye of the sunset.
All four friends had plenty to do and plenty to talk about, so managed
to get through the days in a sufficiently pleasant fashion. After
dinner, which was the principal event of the twenty-four hours, they
sat on deck chatting in the warm tropic nights, or else stayed in the
saloon listening to Philip's piano playing and Jack's singing. Tim also
sang in a pleasant tenor voice, and often favoured the company with a
varied selection of ditties, ranging from pathetic Irish melodies to
the latest music-hall songs of the day. Peter was the most unmusical
member of the party, and, save talking, did little else to amuse his
friends. It is true that he offered to give them a lecture on
"lepidopterous moths," but the offer was promptly refused on the score
that it would be dull. Peter could not understand such an adjective
being applied to so interesting a subject.
It was at one of these symposiums that Jack gave them a description of
the political situation in Cholacaca, information peculiarly acceptable
to Tim, who was anxious to be thoroughly acquainted with the local
affairs of the country. On reaching Tlatonac, he wrote a capital
article embodying Jack's information, and sent it off at once to _The
Morning Planet_, in whose columns it duly appeared, and gave the
British public an excellent idea of Don Hypolito's reasons for
rebelling against the Established Government of the Republic. Tim's
articles were brutally plain and untempered by style.
The night was warm and cloudless. Westward the faint after-glow of the
sunset; and in the east, the slender crescent of the moon, low down on
the horizon. Overhead the constellations large and mellow burned like
lamps in the purple sky, and mirrored their flashing points in the
deep, so that the yacht cut her way through a glittering sea of
planetary splendours. The sails were all furled, and a light breeze
made humming noises in the taut hemp of the rigging. From the wide
mouth of the funnel floated a faint trail of smoke, and the steady
screw, with monotonous repetition, throbbed like a beating heart. The
water hissing like serpents, streamed past the black sides of the boat,
and at the prow the white foam boiled like a witch's cauldron, as she
rose and fell on the heaving plain. It was all wonderfully charming,
and the voyagers seated on deck felt it to be so. After a time
conversation ceased, and they remained silent, drinking in the beauty
of the night and the infinite magic of the sea. Peter, unromantic
Peter, was the first to break the charm with a commonplace remark.
"I hope we shall get fresh milk in Cuba; I'm tired of this Swiss
stuff."
"The heathen!" cried Tim, in a disgusted tone; "he thinks of nothing
but his fat little paunch. Can't you admire the works of Nature, you
little dunderhead."
"Well, I _do_ want fresh milk," urged Peter, obstinately.
"You have no eye for beauty, Peter," said Jack, gravely; "look at the
grandeur of the scene around you."
"It's very pretty."
"Pretty!" cried Philip, laughing. "I once heard a young lady call the
Hallelujah Chorus pretty. You must be a relation of that young lady,
Peter."
"Of all the adjectives in the English language," said Duval, with mock
solemnity, "the one I most detest is 'pretty.'"
"Especially when it is applied to a certain damsel, whereof we wot,"
interjected Philip, mischievously; whereat Jack blushed and the others
laughed.
"If Peter is so enthusiastic over all this," said Tim, waving his hand
to indicate the same, "what will he say when he sees Doña Serafina."
"Bother Doña Serafina," retorted the doctor, growing red. "I wish you
fellows would stop roasting me on the subject."
"She isn't a subject, Peter, but an object. Forty-five, and as plain as
Tim there!"
"Is it me you mean, Jack. Why, I'm not bad looking, at all. I've had
that same on the best female authority. We can't all be heathen gods,
like you and Philip."
"I object to be compared to a heathen god," said the baronet, lighting
a fresh cigarette. "There is ugly Vulcan as well as beautiful Apollo.
Your compliment reads both ways, Tim."
"Oh, the vanity of the creature. But I'm not going to pass compliments,
sir. No, it's my intention to request Mister Duval to deliver a
speech."
"What about?" asked Jack, considerably taken aback at this cool
request.
"On the politics of Cholacaca. I dursn't neglect my business, lads, and
the first letter I have to send to my chief is a report of the cause of
this shindy."
"The information will be useful to us all," said Philip, settling
himself more comfortably in his chair; "we will then know which side to
take, Don Miguel's or Don Hypolito's. Go on, Jack, and you, Peter, hold
your tongue; interrupt, and I'll give orders for your removal
overboard."
The doctor grinned and expressed his desire to know all that Jack had
to say on the subject; whereat Duval, without wasting any time, plunged
at once into the middle of the subject.
"It's a difficult task," he said, rubbing his chin in some perplexity;
"but first you must know the geography of Cholacaca. It has more depth
than breadth, being a strip of country lying south of Yucatan, about
four hundred miles long and two hundred broad. Tlatonac, the chief
town, is in the south, and Acauhtzin, the second city, in the north,
about three hundred miles intervening. There are other towns of more or
less importance in the interior; but the most of Cholacaca consists of
dense forests inhabited by Indians and dotted with buried cities."
"One of which contains the Temple of the Harlequin Opal, I suppose,"
said Philip, leisurely.
"Yes; I have an idea that the Temple of the Opal is not very far from
Tlatonac; but of this I am not sure. Well, to proceed. The country is
very mountainous, and there are comparatively few roads. I am engaged
by the Government to construct a railway to Acauhtzin."
"How far have you constructed?"
"Fifty miles, or thereabouts, and now that this war is on the tapis, I
expect the works will have to be abandoned. Failing this railway, the
only way to get to the second capital is by water. So, you see,
communication between the two towns is not so perfect as it might be."
"And thus offers good opportunities to Don Hypolito to make things
nasty for the Government."
"There's no doubt of that, provided Don Hypolito can secure the
allegiance of the navy."
"The navy!" said Peter, in surprise. "You don't mean to say, Jack, that
Cholacaca has a navy?"
"A very good one, as South American navies go. They have three
war-ships, named respectively, _The Columbus_, _The Cortes_, and _The
Pizarro_, all first-class vessels. The Government has also sent to
England for two torpedo-boats, which are expected out shortly."
"Then, if Don Hypolito commands the navy, he can do what he likes."
"Not exactly. Tlatonac is well fortified, and the war-ships would have
to keep well out of the range of the guns."
"Any army worth mentioning?"
"Yes; a capital army for this part of the world. Mostly Mestizos, you
know; and, if needs be, I dare say the Government can secure the forest
Indians as their allies. Fools if they do. No wise man trusts an
Indian. That holds good of governments also, I take it."
"Judging from your opal story," said Philip, reflectively, "it seems to
me that this Indian business depends on the stone."
"No doubt. If Don Hypolito secures Dolores and her opal, the Indians,
out of sheer superstition, will side with him against the Government.
In that case, they are too near Tlatonac to be pleasant."
"And what are the plans of this Don, if you please," asked Tim, who was
scribbling shorthand notes in his pocket-book.
"Hum! you'll have to ask Xuarez about those, and then he won't tell
you. So far as I can judge, he will win over the navy to his side,
establish his head-quarters at Acauhtzin, and make things unpleasant
all round. With the navy of three, he can blockade Tlatonac."
"What about the torpedo-boats?"
"They, no doubt, are on their way out from England. If the war-ships
can stop them, they certainly will."
"Torpedo-boats are unpleasant things to handle."
"Yes; I don't suppose the war-ships will try force. Those in charge of
the two torpedo-boats won't know of the disaffection of the navy; so
possibly their commander will be decoyed on board the ships, and the
rebels can place their own men in charge of the torpederas."
"In that case," said Philip, after a pause, "it would be as well to use
this yacht to warn them before they enter the harbour."
"My dear Philip, if you tried on that game, the rebels would send a
war-ship after you, and _The Bohemian_ would be knocked to bits."
"Not if she gets a start. I'll back her speed against the whole
Cholacacan navy. When _The Bohemian_ has all her furnaces going, she
is like a streak of greased lightning."
"But, after all," said Peter, yawning, "I don't see why we need
anticipate evil. Don Hypolito may _not_ have rebelled, and the
navy may still be loyal to the Government."
"What!" cried Tim, sticking his chin in the air, "d'ye think I've come
all these miles to see a flash in the pan. If Don Hypolito doesn't
revolt, I shall consider myself deceived. I want war--blood red war,
and plenty of it."
"Barbaric wretch!" said Philip, indolently. "War wasn't invented to
fill the empty columns of your paper during the silly season. Not that
I would mind a war myself."
"You'll see all that and more," remarked Jack, confidently. "Xuarez is
bent on becoming Dictator of the Republic, and as President Gomez won't
care about being kicked out, it will be a case of war to the knife."
"What kind of a man is Xuarez?"
"He's like Napoleon: a wonderful man, I can tell you. You can see from
his face that he was born to command. If he gains the day, he won't be
content with playing at Dictator. Not he! He'll make himself Emperor,
establish his capital in the neck of the Isthmus of Panama, and conquer
South America. He won't attempt the north further than Mexico, in case
the U.S. Government might make it hot for him. The Yankees object to
foreign domination. Some people are so particular."
"The New World is not the place for empires," said Philip, decisively.
"Monarchs are at a discount in the Americas. Maximilian failed;
Iturbide failed; Dom Pedro had to leave Brazil. No; Montezuma was the
last of the American emperors--there will never be another."
"Don't prophesy till you know, Philip. Don Hypolito is as cunning as
the devil, and as clever."
"I don't care how clever he is. No one can depend on the half-baked lot
that form the population of Spanish America. You have to form a nation
before you can construct an empire."
"There's some truth in that."
"Still, if Xuarez appeals to their superstition through this opal,"
said Peter, mildly, "there will be----"
"That only counts with the Indians. The Mestizos and the descendants of
the Spaniards won't be led by such child's play."
"What about the Church?"
Jack flicked a spot of dust off his coat.
"The Church has that much power in Cholacaca now," he said slowly,
"it's effete; it's worn out. The age of the Inquisition is past."
"If Don Hypolito does get to be Lord-Lieutenant," asked Tim,
inquiringly, "what will he do for the downtrodden country?"
"According to his own showing--everything. Don't I tell you he wishes
to found a monarchy. But when he's got the upper hand, I question
whether he'll do much, save what chimes in with his own personal
ambition. Besides, Cholacaca is going ahead now quite as much as is
good for it."
"That refers to the railway, Jack."
"Partly, and to other things also. This railway will open up a lot of
valuable country. It will run through from end to end. From Janjalla in
the south to Acauhtzin in the north. Then lines will branch off here
and there to the sea-coast on one side, to the mountains on the other.
Thus the whole country will be a network of railways, bringing the
population and towns within trading distance of one another."
"All of which visions are to be realised by Jack," said Peter, with
mock sarcasm.
"Yes, realised by Jack," assented the engineer, good-humouredly. "If
Don Hypolito gets beaten, and things go on as now, I will have plenty
of work."
"Much virtue in 'if,'" quoted Philip, smiling.
"It is certainly difficult to foresee the end. Still, Gomez has the
army."
"And Don Hypolito has the navy. It's pretty even, I think."
"The combat will be decided by us four," said Tim, conceitedly, "and
we'll fight on the side of Jack's choosing."
"Then we will assist the Government. I don't want to help Xuarez to
marry Dolores, and get the Harlequin Opal."
"It's my opinion that the war has nothing to do with the Harlequin
Opal," said Peter, decisively. "If the Indians have got it, the Indians
will keep it."
"Unless I'm within stealing distance of it," replied Jack, promptly.
"No; whatever comes and goes, I'm determined to get that opal. It
belongs to Dolores."
"And Dolores belongs to you. You are an unselfish person, Jack."
Duval laughed good-humouredly at Philip's mild protestation, and began
to talk of other things. Tim went down to the saloon to arrange his
notes; Peter turned in, and the symposium broke up without further
conversation.
This is only a sample of the many talks they had on the subject of
Cholacaca. The information supplied by Jack was useful, as it showed
his three companions plainly how matters stood. On their arrival at
Tlatonac, they were thus well acquainted with the causes of the war,
and could follow future developments with great interest. And when this
last conversation took place, Tlatonac was not far off.
After leaving Havana, where they only stayed a few hours for a run
ashore, the yacht dropped down towards the Bay of Honduras, and drew
steadily towards their destination. The nearer they came, the more
excited did Jack become at the prospect of seeing Dolores once more. As
a rule, the young engineer was a steady, cool-headed fellow; but this
love had upset his brain, and he was as love-sick and inconsequent as
any raw lad. Amused at this spectacle, Philip did his best to restrain
Jack's impatience, and kept the engines at full speed, so that the
lover might the sooner arrive within kissing distance of his beloved.
Within the circle of the Indian isles the heat grew almost unbearable.
Blue sea, blue sky, and the burning eye of the sun grilling them
constantly during the day. When the west flared red with his setting,
and the waters heaved in billows of crimson, they were glad to welcome
the cool night with serene moon and chilly, gleaming stars. The pitch
bubbled sluggishly in the seams of the deck, the brasses burnt like
fire when touched by an incautious hand, and the very air was tremulous
with the heat. In vain, with linen suits, solar topees, and constant
keeping in the shade, they endeavoured to find coolness; the sun found
them out, and baked them with his fierce rays till they were half dead
with exhaustion. The heat did not brown them as is customary in more
temperate climes, but simply squeezed all the life out of their poor
bodies, until they waxed so indolent that did they nothing but lie
about in shady corners all day, longing for the night. Even Peter
abandoned his entomology; so, from such sacrifice, must the intense
heat be judged.
Tim was a perfect god-send in those glowing days of heat and thirst. He
was skilful at preparing drinks, and concocted beverages which enabled
them to hold out during twelve hours of incessant sun glare.
Occasionally they passed an island covered with masses of palms, cacti,
and aloes, and sometimes a distant ship arose and fell against the line
of the horizon; but they were too indolent to trouble about such
trifles. It was nothing but eternal sunshine and eternal heat. But all
things must come to an end, and so did this voyage.
"To-morrow," said Philip, thankfully, as he broiled in the shade.
"To-morrow we will sight British Honduras. Then Tlatonac won't be far
off."
"Perhaps it will be worse on shore than at sea," sighed Peter, mopping
his bald head with a red-silk pockethandkerchief. "Why, if----"
"For Heaven's sake, Peter, throw that handkerchief overboard," cried
Jack, irritably; "the very colour makes me hot."
"But it's silk!"
"I don't care what it is. It's red, and that's enough for me."
"Don't lose your temper, Jack!" said Tim, soothingly. "Vamos a tomar
las once."
This Spanish phrase, meaning, "Let us go and take the eleven," was
introduced by Jack, and referred to "aguardiente" (brandy), which has
eleven letters. It was in constant use, and when the familiar sound
struck on their ears, Philip and Peter lifted their heads anxiously. It
is but fair to state, however, that in the sense in which the saying
was used on board the yacht, it referred to lemon squash, which also
has that number of letters.
"I'll take one, if you prepare it."
"Carambo!" said Tim, viciously. "I won't. Brew one for yourself. I'm
not a bar tender."
"Tim's getting up his Spanish for the ladies," murmured Philip, lazily.
"If he greets them with carambo, he'll be slung out of Tlatonac,"
retorted Jack, who frequently indulged in American slang.
"Oh, I also know how to make love in Spanish," said the Irishman,
bluntly. "El hombre prevenido nunca fue vencido."
"Oh, shut up!"
"What does that mean?" asked Peter, who was profoundly ignorant of the
Castillian tongue.
"It means, 'The prepared man is never conquered,' you ignorant
creature. Peter, you'll have to learn Spanish, if only to flirt with
old Serafina."
Peter deliberately arose from his chair, and walked down to the saloon.
"That's Peter's way of remonstrating," said Jack, smiling. "It's hot
here; we had better follow his example."
They did, and in a remarkably short space of time were fast asleep. The
siesta had also been introduced by Jack with such success that they
slept all day and sat up all night, when it was cool. It was the only
way they had of making life bearable.
The next morning they were within sight of Tlatonac. A long low line of
sand appeared in the distance, topped here and there with a slender
palm. As they drew nearer, they saw the frowning walls of the forts
rising above the waters, and beyond, on a hill, the red-roofed houses
of the city. Above all, the slender towers and high dome of the
cathedral.
"Hullo!" said Jack, noting the absence of the war-ships. "No navy! This
looks ominous."
"Do you think war has begun?" asked Peter, turning round in dismay.
"Lord knows! It looks like it."
"Well, at all events, the war-ships can't hurt us now," said Philip;
"we are under the guns of the forts."
From the central part of the forts a long wharf shot into the blue
waters. The bay was covered with boats; intensely green vegetation
clothed the shores, and the white walls of the forts glistening like
silver in the blazing sunlight. And this was Tlatonac.
"A most exposed situation," said Philip, thinking of the war. "If the
war-ships start shelling those red roofs, there won't be much of them
left."
He addressed Jack; but that young man did not reply. He was thinking of
Dolores. Philip turned towards Peter; but the doctor's mental eye was
fixed on clouds of gorgeous butterflies. Tim!
"I'd like to see a naval combat in this bay," said Tim, gravely, "with
war-ships and torpedoes."
"Three monomaniacs," said Philip, rising. "War, butterflies, and
Dolores. We'd better go ashore now, lads. I'm tired of those three
subjects."