HEMMED IN ON EVERY SIDE
A small crescent of the moon rode high in a cloudless sky on that
eventful night when Dudley led his little band back towards the dark
forest line behind which lay the estancia that they had so recently
visited; and the faint light it shed helped them not a little as they
rode.
"We are fortunate," whispered Dudley to Harold, who jogged along
beside him. "If it had been one of those pitch-dark nights which we
have on occasion, we should have found it difficult to discover even
the forest, for it is wonderful how easily one loses one's bearings
on the pampas."
"Even during broad daylight," came the answer. "Why, time and again
I have found myself at a loss, and have wondered which direction I
ought to take. Then I have remembered the advice which Pietro gave,
and soon I have got my direction from the sun. But we are lucky
to-night, as you say. There is the forest, and there--yes, there is
Pepito and his following."
They pulled in their horses for a minute and stared steadily ahead to
where, stretching ghostly and silently across their track a mile
away, lay the forest line, the belt of trees which separated them
from the estancia towards which they were riding. What might not be
in store for them there? What unthought-of danger might they not be
about to encounter?
"I am sure, as sure as a fellow can well be, that the man who lives
over there is a rascal," murmured Dudley, as if speaking his thoughts
aloud. "If ever there was 'ruffian,' written upon a man's face, he
had it on his; and the more I think of Mr. Blunt's tales, of the
attacks with which he has had to put up, and the mystery which
surrounds the brigands who have made these attacks, the more sure I
am that there is something in our suspicions. There is good reason
for them, and to-night we will do our best to settle the matter."
"And supposing you find evidence that this fellow is a ruffian,"
asked Harold thoughtfully, "will you----?"
"Attack him promptly? No, Harold, that would be doing too much. I
have no orders to interfere with him, and besides I should hardly be
able to obtain evidence that he or his men had actually made a raid
on Mr. Blunt. No, our best plan, if our suspicions are confirmed,
will be to slink away, and, once we are back home, help our employer
to make other plans. Then we will set a net for the fellow, and one
of these days perhaps he will fall into it. In any case we shall be
warned of the danger, and after that it will be our own fault if this
man is successful. Ah, there is Pepito! I can see his men
distinctly. We will move on again."
Away to his right, dimly illuminated by the feeble rays of the moon,
a ghostly band of riders could be seen jogging slowly on towards the
forest, and a glance told Dudley that the men he saw must be part of
the escort which he had brought from the estancia. He shook his
reins, pressed his knees into the flanks of his horse, and set the
beast in motion. Then his eyes left the silent band riding under the
moonlight, and fixed themselves on the forest line ahead. And
presently, as the distance decreased, he was able to make out the
tops of the trees, which were moving in the breeze, and later even
caught the whisper of the leaves, and the distant creak of swaying
branches. Down below the summits of the trees the same dark line
continued, save for a small break here and there, where the faint
light from the sky filtered in between the trees.
Nothing else could be seen, and though he searched every foot of that
dark line with his eyes, he discovered nothing to cause him alarm, or
to warn him of the dark figures hovering in the forest. For some few
feet within the shadow cast by the trees a silent band sat their
horses, waiting the word of the squat individual who rode at their
head.
"The fools! To think that they should play so nicely into my hands!"
this leader whispered to the man at his elbow. "Here were we, sure
that the knaves suspected us, about to ride out with the hope of
surprising their camp. Gauchos are the same all over the pampas, and
who knows, it is more than likely that their guards would have
discovered us, and to take them all would have meant a long and fast
gallop across the plains, a thing that neither you nor I like,
_amico_."
A grunt from his companion told this leader that the man heard and
assented.
"Even a gaucho may be thrown and killed when galloping at night," he
answered sourly. "There was Guino, an old comrade, who broke his
neck when----"
"Yes, yes, I remember," was the hasty interruption. "But to return
to these fools. They have saved us all that trouble. Instead of our
riding out and attempting to surprise their camp they come to us.
You hear me? They ride to the forest, thereby placing their necks in
the noose we have prepared, and showing me plainly that if I was
suspicious of them, they also had little faith in me. Good! They
shall be captured. You have placed the men?"
"They are in position, señor. They await your whistle."
"And you gave them strict orders to do as I said?"
"They understand what is wanted of them thoroughly. These men are to
be captured. Our fellows would sooner kill them at once and have
done with them. But you have reasons for saving their lives, and our
fellows are not fools."
The man answered sourly, as if he considered his leader to be acting
stupidly, and showed plainly that if the order was that this band of
inquisitive gauchos and their English leaders was to be captured
unharmed, he at least was not in favor of such a policy.
"I have given the order strictly," he added; "but were I in your
shoes I would wring the neck of every one of the dogs."
"But you are a fool," came the short, curt answer, while the squat
figure turned in the saddle and faced the man who had just spoken,
the ugly leader of the band of ruffians peering into his lieutenant's
face with such a malignant expression that had it been light the man
would have started backward. As it was he had incurred the anger of
his master more than once before, and even though the darkness hid
the scowling face which was thrust within a foot of his, this ruffian
cringed, and sat far back in his saddle, muttering beneath his
breath. For Antonio Sarvisti had a reputation. He was the leader of
a band of lawless men, and knew that such a position was no sinecure.
Words meant weakness. Disobedience on the part of one of his men, if
left unpunished for an instant, would lead to mutiny, and then a
swift death would be the reward of the leader. No, Antonio had a
short way with his following, and a hand which went quickly to his
revolver. A lesson now and again was of advantage, and this ugly
leader was not the man to hesitate. He was one of those ruthless
savages who know how to command desperadoes. He held them at arm's
length, treated them more as children, allowed them to quarrel and
fight as much as they liked amongst themselves, and, like the astute
ruffian he was, whenever they showed signs of discontent he at once
organized a raid with which to distract their attention, for he well
knew that the mere thought of the booty which they would gather would
sweeten their tempers. But whatever happened, strict obedience to
his mere nod was a point on which he insisted, and the smallest
breach meant always the crack of a pistol and a bullet in the head of
the one who had misbehaved. Even the surly individual who acted as
Antonio's lieutenant was never free from the haunting fear that he
too might fall a victim to his leader, and it was seldom that he
presumed upon his position. At this very moment he sat back in his
saddle, staring fearfully at the squat figure of the Italian, while
one hand instinctively slid towards the pocket which held his
revolver.
"You heard," came the sharp question from Antonio. "I said you were
a fool, and now I think you a bigger one, for your hand is near your
revolver, while, if you will only look, my weapon is within an inch
of your face. There, feel it!"
The cold ring of steel touched the gaucho's forehead, sending a
shiver through his frame and causing him to start back. Beads of
perspiration burst out on his face, while his hands trembled. For
this Antonio was marvellous.
"Preserve us!" he murmured with quivering lips. "The man sees like a
cat. Señor, I am at your mercy."
"As you will always be," was the answer, given this time in softer
tones. "Antonio Sarvisti is not the man to be played with, and if he
makes one of his band a lieutenant, with higher wages and a bigger
share of the booty--a bigger share, mind you, _amico_,--he expects
greater obedience from that man. But there; we will not quarrel, you
and I. Thank the fates that you are not in my shoes, and learn to
understand that I have always a reason for every action. I could
have shot you like a dog a moment ago, but then I should have alarmed
the fools who are riding into our net. A reason, you see, amico.
Then you will gather that I have something in my mind which causes me
to order that these men shall be unharmed. Listen! If they are shot
down and killed, and if afterwards I am successful in slaying my
enemy in the estancia over there, the deaths of so many gauchos will
arouse a cry throughout the pampas. The owners are already
attempting to combine. They would gather their forces at once, and
it is likely that information would reach them that it was on this
estancia that the trouble had commenced, for one of these men might
escape. Now, do you see my meaning? You would raise a hornet's nest
about us. Secure these gauchos, kill this Mr. Blunt, and I warrant
that within a month our captives will take service with us. There,
silence now! The fools are getting near."
Dudley and his men were indeed within a short distance of the forest
line by now, and it looked as if they would ride right into the trap
which had been set for them without taking any precautions. But,
suddenly, as the rascals within stared out from the shadows, they saw
our hero lift his arm above his head and bring the band to a
standstill. Almost at the same instant a shrill whistle sounded away
on the right, a signal which all knew came from Pepito.
"Something wrong, I think," said Dudley to Harold, who rode up to his
elbow. "I called a halt here as I could see no easy way into the
forest. Everything looks so black ahead that I thought it wise to
send a man to search for an opening. And now Pepito gives a whistle.
What can be the reason?"
They sat their horses there, uncertain how to act, and never dreamed
that within a few yards of them, hidden beneath the dense shadow and
the foliage, Antonio Sarvisti and his men lurked unseen. Not a
whisper reached their ears, though a minute later one of the gauchos
spurred his horse to our hero's side and warned him that he had heard
movements in the forest.
"There are men there, señor," he said in low and warning tones. "I
heard them as they moved. This owner whom we have come to watch is
there with his following, and we are in danger of attack. There!
That was a horseman. I heard the hoofs of the beast moving over the
fallen leaves."
"And here is Pepito," said Dudley suddenly, catching sight of a band
of horsemen riding towards him across the pampas. "You say you heard
men moving. Perhaps Pepito has heard the same, and in that case
there will be nothing left for us but to retreat as fast as possible.
Give a whistle, my man."
An answering signal was sent, and very soon, spurring hard and
galloping as fast as possible, Pepito and his men arrived on the
scene.
"Your pardon, señor," he said, as he pulled his panting horse in
within a foot of Dudley. "We were about to enter the forest through
a gap, when sounds came to our ears. It may have been the wind,
though I think myself that it was caused by horsemen. After that I
did not venture to enter, but signalled so that you would be warned."
"We have found the same here. One of the gauchos declares that he
heard horsemen moving over the fallen leaves, Pepito. If that is the
case these men are watching us, and are prepared to attack us. I
think we had better ride away on to the pampas, and make direct for
the estancia."
"The señor is right," came the prompt answer. "It would be madness
to enter now. Better collect in a ring and gallop away at our
fastest pace. If men are there they will surely fire at us the
instant we move away, and if we went slowly we should be killed."
"While if we ride in a bunch we shall as certainly make an excellent
mark for their bullets," exclaimed Dudley, at a loss how to act, for
he had never anticipated such evil fortune as to be discovered in the
very first stage of his enterprise. Even now he could hardly believe
that the actions of his little band had been watched, and that men
were within the forest, ready to pounce upon his following when they
entered. Nor did he even dream that Antonio Sarvisti, the evil-faced
owner of the neighboring estancia, had already laid his plans to
capture the whole party, and afterwards to fall upon Mr. Blunt and
the remaining gauchos, and do his best to kill the former and wreck
his estancia.
"We will gallop away now," Dudley said, after a moment's thought,
"and as we ride we will separate. Pass those orders. Are all ready?"
He waited for a few seconds, so as to make sure that all understood,
and was on the point of giving the signal for the retirement of the
whole party, when suddenly a voice was heard from the forest, a voice
the tones of which he and Harold instantly recognized.
"Ride if you will, señor, and be shot down by my men. But if you
will take your orders from me you will at once throw down your arms
and dismount, for I have sixty men here, and each one has a rifle
trained on you. Dismount, señor, instantly!"
The words came like blows, so unexpected were they. In a flash
Dudley saw himself and his men prisoners, and the task which he had
set himself, and from which he had hoped for so much, turned into a
terrible disaster. In a second he realized that all his suspicions
of this Antonio Sarvisti were more than well founded, and that the
capture of his little band would leave Mr. Blunt and his estancia
open to instant attack. The forest was before him, black and
forbidding, and sheltering beneath its deep shadow the ruffian whose
movements he had returned to watch, while behind lay the moonlit
pampas, and freedom if he could but escape. Then he thought of the
rifles, which no doubt covered every member of his band, and realized
that a movement of the horses would mean death for many of his men.
Surrender alone seemed to be left, and then----
"Pepito," he whispered, "there is only one course. Will the men
support me?"
"Try them, señor," came the crisp answer.
"Then let them dismount as if about to surrender. The instant they
are off their horses they are to lie full length and wriggle forward
into the forest. We will fight these fine fellows in their own
cover."
"Well, the señor has thought it out?" came the jeering question from
the forest. "He is about to surrender. That is well. Dismount and
no harm shall come to you."
Without troubling to reply, Dudley flung his leg across the pommel of
his saddle and slipped to the ground, each one of the party following
his example. Then, in less time than it takes to tell, all were on
their faces and creeping rapidly towards the cover.
"Treachery! Fire on them!" shouted Antonio, suddenly realizing that
a trick was being played. "Call the flanks out into the open and let
them surround these men as was arranged. Fire on them, or they will
give us trouble."
The squat figure of the rascal showed up for one instant, as a
gleaming ray from the moon penetrated through a break in the trees
and fell upon him, then he, too, slid to the ground, and in a flash
was hidden from view. A second later a volley spurted from the dense
cover in front, the bullets ripping the leaves and hurtling out over
the pampas. Then there came a solitary shot. Crash! A rifle, fired
from a point some six yards away, suddenly lit up the dense darkness
of the forest, while a ball whizzed over Dudley's head and thudded
against the flanks of one of the horses. The poor beast rose high in
the air and stood there poised on his hind legs; then he lost his
balance and tumbled backwards with a crash. But he was up in an
instant, and began to lash out in all directions, kicking the other
horses till all were in a condition of terror.
Crash! Another shot startled the silence, and then came a cry, the
sharp call of a man who has been wounded. It was Pepito, who lay
just beside Dudley, and at that moment was creeping into the shadow
of a bush on the very edge of the forest. But he was not the lad to
make a fuss because a bullet had ripped a hole through the muscles of
one of his thighs. One sharp cry of pain he gave, and then, setting
his lips, and fixing his eyes on the spot from which the shot had
come, he raced forward, bending low all the while and gripping his
hunting knife in his hand.
"One to us, I think!" he heard someone exclaim in low tones. "Now
for number two."
The gaucho's keen eyes could even penetrate the darkness of the
forest, and as he sat on his heels, waiting for the man who had fired
to show himself, he saw a barrel pushed through the fork of a trunk
within three feet of where he sat. A white blotch behind showed
where the man's face was, and gave Pepito all the information he
required. With one bound he reached the tree and threw the muzzle of
the weapon up just as the man pulled the trigger. Then, ere the
flash had died down, he had reached behind the trunk, had dragged the
ruffian who had fired closer to him, and with one stroke of his knife
had sent him to his end.
"So let all robbers die," he murmured, as he stooped over the man.
"We will speak to the others in the same way."
Assuring himself that the man was dead, he fell on all fours again,
and crept back towards Dudley, narrowly missing a shot which one of
his own gauchos fired at him as he came.
"A blow for a blow, señor," he said. "The ruffian hit me through the
thigh and has been punished. The others have gone, I think, for they
know well that here in the forest we are equal to them."
"Then get the men together and set a watch all round," was the sharp
order. "After that we will place two men to cover the horses with
their rifles, for it would never do to have them captured."
"And then, señor?"
"We will wait. There is nothing more that we can do, for if we
attempt to move through the forest we shall certainly be attacked.
Those fellows have a clever leader, who saw at once that in the
darkness of this place we had as much chance as he and his men. But
you may be sure that the rascals are all round us, ready to fire a
volley into us the instant we move or rise to our feet. As to how
long we shall wait I do not know; but if only the moon would go down
our course would be open. We should rush to the horses and ride for
our lives."
The predicament in which Dudley and his following found themselves
was indeed by no means a pleasant one. It is true that they had
escaped capture for the moment, but it was very doubtful if they were
any the better off for that; for retreat across the pampas meant
disaster, and the volley which had greeted them as they threw
themselves on to the ground had told them plainly that they had an
overwhelming number to deal with. The wonder was, in fact, that one
only of their party had been wounded, and that the bullets had
whistled over the heads of the others. A minute later the aspect of
affairs was seen to be even worse, for no sooner had Pepito placed
his guards on every side than he himself went to look at the horses,
creeping like a snake through the forest as he made for the edge, for
to have stood up would have meant to invite a bullet.
"Gone!" he exclaimed, with an exclamation of dismay, as he stared
into the open. "Those robbers have been too quick for us. We are
cornered, and can never escape."
He crept back to Dudley's side with his tale, and there for some few
minutes lay at full length, whispering to him.
"Gone, señor," he said with a groan, "as if they had vanished into
the night. There is no trace of them, though I looked to right and
left. The rascals must have driven them into the cover. We are
cornered. Escape is out of the question."
"Never say die!" answered Dudley stubbornly. "Things look nasty, I
admit, but we are not taken yet. But there is something else which
is worrying me. Listen, Pepito! We must send a warning to Mr.
Blunt, for I can see the game which this fellow and his men are
playing. We thought to take them unawares, and to find out all about
them; while they must have seen that we suspected them. More than
that, once they had heard from us of the intended combination of the
owners of the estancias, they saw that instant action on their part
was necessary, or we should soon be too strong for them. Our faces
must have told them what we thought, and have warned them of the
report we should give to Mr. Blunt. The rest is clear."
"Clear, señor. I do not understand," answered Pepito.
"Then I will tell you. The rascals decided to attack us at once and
capture every one of our band. Then that report would never reach
our estancia; while, instead of our arriving, this Italian--for that
I think he is--would raid the place with his ruffians, and as likely
as not kill our employer and those who attempted to defend him."
An exclamation burst from the gaucho spread full length at his side.
"Then that explains their presence here, señor," he said. "They
followed us, and were waiting in the forest to ride out and surround
our camp. And we, thinking to watch their movements, raised the
camp, and rode back here into their arms. Bah! It makes one's blood
boil to think that we have had such evil luck. But you were saying,
señor, that you had some trouble."
"I have," replied Dudley decidedly. "We have others to think of.
There is Mr. Blunt; he must be warned. Someone must creep away from
here and make for the estancia. I would go myself, but I am in
command, and stand or fall with my men."
"Then I will go," came the prompt answer, while Pepito sprang eagerly
to his feet, only to fall again the next moment; for now that the
contest had slackened and active movement had not been necessary for
some few minutes, the fact that he had been wounded was borne in on
his mind. He had felt the stinging blow given by the bullet, and had
at once determined on revenge, for this handsome and gallant gaucho
had the hot blood of Spain in his veins, and to him a blow received
demanded an instant return. But punishment had been given, the enemy
had for the moment been forced to retire, and now the pain of his
wound returned. The injury was not a very serious one, but
sufficient to make the limb stiff and movement painful. It was clear
at once that the task of reaching the estancia was, for him at least,
an impossible one.
"More evil luck!" he groaned. "This wound would tire me before I had
gone many miles, even on a horse. The task falls to some other man.
If the señor will permit I will choose one who is crafty and brave."
A minute later, indeed, he had called one of his gauchos to his side,
where he repeated the orders which his young leader gave.
"You will creep out into the forest and search for a horse, _amigo_,"
he said. "Take your pistol and knife only, and strike hard if you
should meet one of the robbers. When you are through, ride for your
life and warn them at the estancia. Let them gather the other owners
and the gauchos and bring them, back here at the gallop. There, go.
You are brave."
The man, a young fellow of Pepito's own age, merely grunted his
assent, gripped Dudley and his comrade by the hand, and at once crept
off into the cover like a snake. Behind him he left the remainder of
the little band, crouched low amid the trees and brambles, listening,
listening eagerly for a sound. Once they heard a sharp crack, the
sound made by a man who has trodden on a dried stick, and a second
later a low thud, a gurgling cry, and then a second's silence. But
the stillness of the forest did not last for long, for once more the
voice of the leader of the band of rascals was heard.
"Fire!" he shouted. "They are trying to move through the forest.
Give them a volley."
Hardly had the words died down when from every point, from right and
left, and from the pampas even, spurts of flame lit up the darkness,
while bullets ripped through the leaves, sending a shower to the
ground, ricochetting from the trunks of the trees, and singing
through the air in a manner sufficient to awe the boldest. Some two
minutes later the gallant gaucho who had made the attempt to slip
through the hands of the surrounding enemy crawled to Dudley's side
again.
"Alas, señor," he whispered, "the net is drawn too closely even for a
snake to escape. By an evil chance I happened to tread on a dried
stick, and in an instant one of the ruffians was upon me. He died,
señor. My blade found a spot between his shoulders, and he dropped
without a word. There were others near him, and for that reason,
seeing it was impossible to advance, I returned to warn you. We are
surrounded."
The news was only too true. Dudley and his men were now hemmed in on
every side. Enemies surrounded them so closely that, as the gaucho
had said, even a snake stood little chance of being able to crawl
through. Their horses were captured, their retreat cut off, and the
least that could be said of their position was that it was desperate.
Surrender, a miserable ending to all their hopes and ambitions,
stared them in the face, and, worse than all, perhaps--a fact which
recurred time and again to Dudley,--the capture of his little party
meant more even than imprisonment. He could see the matter very
clearly now, and realized that once he and his men were caged there
was nothing to prevent this rascal Sarvisti from riding down on the
lands owned by Mr. Blunt and utterly annihilating all who lived
there. As if in a dream he saw the comfortable house on the estancia
in flames, and on the threshold the body of Mr. Blunt, done to death
by this enemy who had so often and in so many ways attempted to kill
him.
"It shall never be," he said aloud, clenching his fists. "While I
live I swear that I will stop this ruffian. I will never surrender!"