THE STAY IN THE FOREST.
When the fight was over, and order restored at the post, the Captain
bade his Lieutenant have the bodies lying on the battlefield picked
up and hung by the feet to the trees on the plain, so that they
might become the prey of wild beasts, though not until they had been
decapitated. The heads were to remain exposed on the walls of the
forts, and act as an object of terror to the bandits, who, after this
act of summary justice, would not venture to approach the neighbourhood
of the post.
Then, when all these orders had been given, the Commandant returned
to his residence, where Don Ruiz had already preceded him in order to
re-assure his sister as to the result of the fight. Don Marcos was
radiant: he had gained a great advantage--at least he thought so--over
the border ruffians; he had inflicted on them an exemplary punishment
at the expense of an insignificant loss, and supposed that for a long
time no one would venture to attack the post entrusted to him.
Unfortunately, the wood ranger was not of the same opinion: each time
the Captain smiled and rubbed his hands at the recollection of some
episode in the fight, Stronghand shook his head sadly, and frowned
anxiously. This was done so frequently, that at last the worthy
Commandant was compelled to take notice of it.
"What's the matter with you now?" he asked him, with an air half
vexed, half pleased. "You are, on my soul, the most extraordinary man
I know. Nothing satisfies you; you are always in a bad temper. Hang
it! I do not know how to treat you. Did we not give those scoundrels a
remarkable thrashing, eh? Come, answer!"
"I allow it," the hunter replied laconically.
"Hum! It is lucky you allow so much. And yet they fought bravely, I
fancy."
"Yes; and it is that which frightens me."
"I do not understand you."
"Was I not giving you important information when we were interrupted by
the Cabo Hernandez?"
"That is to say, you were going to give it me."
"Yes; and with your permission, now that we have no fear of being
interrupted for a while, I will impart the news to you."
"I ask nothing better; although I suppose that the defeat the pirates
have experienced must deprive the news of much of its importance."
"The pirates play but a very small part in what I have to tell you."
"Speak, then! I know that you are too earnest a man to try and amuse
yourself at my expense by inspiring me with ridiculous alarm."
"You shall judge for yourself the perils of the situation in which you
may find yourself at any moment, if you do not employ the greatest
precaution and the most excessive prudence."
The two men seated themselves on butacas, and the Commandant, who was
more excited than he wished to show by this startling preamble, made
the hunter a sign to commence his revelations.
"About two months ago," the latter began, "I was at the Presidio of
San Estevan, whither certain personal matters had called me. This
Presidio, which, as you know, is about two days' journey from here, is
very important, and serves to some extent in connecting all the posts
scattered along the Indian border."
The Captain gave a nod of assent.
"I am," the hunter continued, "on rather intimate terms with Don
Gregorio Ochova, the Colonel commanding the Presidio, and during my
last stay at San Estevan I had opportunities for seeing him rather
frequently. You know the savageness of my character, and the species of
instinctive repulsion with which anything resembling a town inspires
me; hence, I need hardly say, that no sooner was my business ended than
I made preparations to depart, and, according to my custom, intended
to leave the Presidio at a very early hour. I did not like to go away
without saying good-bye to the Colonel and shaking hands with him;
so I went to his house for the purpose of taking leave. I found him
in a state of extreme agitation, walking up and down, and apparently
affected by a violent passion or great anxiety. On seeing me, he
uttered an exclamation of delight, and ran up to me, exclaiming--"
"'Oh, Stronghand! Where on earth have you been hiding? I have been
seeking you everywhere for the last two hours, and have put a dozen
soldiers on your heels, who could not possibly find you.'"
"I looked at the Colonel in surprise."
"'You were seeking for me, Don Gregorio? I assure you that I was close
to you, and very easy to find.'"
"'It seems not. But here you are--that is the main point; and I care
little where you were, or what you were doing. Do you think about
making any lengthened stay at San Estevan?'"
"'No, Colonel,' I answered at once, 'my affairs are settled; I intend
to start at an early hour tomorrow, and I have just come to say
good-bye, and thank you for the hospitality you have shown me during my
stay at the Presidio.'"
"'Good!' he said eagerly, 'that is all for the best but,' he added,
recollecting himself, and taking my hand in a kindly way, 'do not
suppose that it is my desire to see you depart that makes me speak
thus.'"
"'I am convinced of the contrary,' I remarked with a bow."
"He continued,--'You can, Stronghand, do me a great service, if you
will.'"
"'I am at your command.'"
"'This is the matter,' he said, at once entering on the business. 'For
some days past, the most alarming reports have been spreading through
the Presidio, though it is impossible to find out their origin.'"
"'And what may they be?' I asked."
"'It is said--(notice, I say it is said, and affirm nothing, as I know
nothing positive)--it is said, then, that a general uprising against us
is preparing--that the Indians, laying aside for a moment their private
hatreds, and forgetting their clannish quarrels to think only of the
hereditary hatred they entertain for us, are combining to attempt a
general attack on the posts, which they purpose to destroy, in order
to devastate our borders more freely. Their object is said to be, not
only the destruction of the posts, but also the invasion of several
States, such as Sonora and Sinaloa, in which they intend to establish
themselves permanently after expelling us.'"
"'The reports are serious,' I remarked, 'but nothing has as yet
happened to confirm their truth.'"
"'That is true; but you know that there is always a certain amount of
truth in every vague rumour, and it is that truth I should like to
know.'"
"'Is no nation mentioned by name among those which are to take up
arms?'"
"'Yes; more particularly the Papayos--that is to say, the grand league
of the Apaches, Axuas, Gilenos, Comanches, Mayos, and Opatas. But the
more serious thing is, always according to the report, that the white
and half-bred marauders on the border are leagued with them, and mean
to help them in their expedition against us.'"
"'That is really serious,' I answered; 'but, pardon me for questioning
you, Colonel; what do you purpose doing to make head against the
imminent danger that threatens you?'"
"'That is exactly why I want you, my friend; and you would do me a real
service by assisting me in this affair.'"
"'I am ready to do anything that depends on myself to oblige you.'"
"'I was certain of that answer, my friend. This is the matter, then.
You understand that I cannot remain thus surrounded by vague rumours
and terrors that have no apparent cause, but still carry trouble into
families and cause perturbation in trade. During the last few weeks,
especially, various serious events have given a certain consistency
to these rumours--travellers have been murdered, and several valuable
waggon trains plundered, almost at the gates of the Presidio. It is
time for this state of things to cease, and for us to know definitively
the truth or falsehood of the rumours; for this purpose I require a
brave, devoted man, thoroughly acquainted with Indian manners and
customs, who would consent--'"
"I interrupted him quickly."
"'I understand what you want, Colonel; seek no further, for I am the
man you stand in need of. Tomorrow at sunrise I will start: and within
two months I pledge myself to give you the most explicit information,
and tell you what you may have to fear, and what truth there is in all
that is being said around you.'"
"The Colonel thanked me warmly, and the next morning I set out on my
tour of investigation, as we had arranged."
"Well," the Captain exclaimed, who had followed this long story with
ever increasing interest; "and what information have you picked up?"
"This information," the hunter answered, "is of a nature far more
serious than even public report had said. The situation is most
critical, and not a moment must be lost in preparing for defence. I was
going to San Estevan, where Colonel Don Gregorio must be awaiting my
return with the utmost impatience, when I thought of seeing whether the
Post of San Miguel, which had been so long unoccupied, had received a
garrison. That is how chance, my dear Captain, made us meet here when I
thought I should see you at the Presidio."
The Captain shook his head thoughtfully. "A month ago," he said, "Don
Gregorio ordered me to come here and hold my ground, though he did not
inform me of the motives that compelled him so suddenly to place San
Miguel in a state of defence."
"Well; now you know the reasons."
"Yes; and I thank you for having told me. But, between ourselves, are
matters so serious as you lead me to suppose?"
"A hundred times more so. I have traversed the desert in all
directions; I have been present at the meetings of the chiefs--in
a word, I know the most private details of the expedition that is
preparing."
"_¡Viva Dios!_ I will not let myself be surprised--be at your ease
about that; but you were right in advising me to ask for help, as my
garrison is too weak to resist a well-arranged assault. This morning's
attack has made me reflect; so I will immediately--"
"Do not take the trouble," the hunter interrupted him; "I will act as
your express."
"What! Are you going to leave us at once?"
"I must, my dear Captain; for I have to give Don Gregorio an account of
the mission he confided to me. Reflect what mortal anxiety he must feel
at not seeing me return."
"That is true. In spite of the lively pleasure I should feel in keeping
you by me, I am compelled to let you go. When do you start?"
"This moment."
"Already?"
"My horse has rested; there are still five or six hours of daylight
left, and I will take advantage of them?" He made a movement to leave
the room.
"You have not said good-bye to Don Ruiz and his sister," the Captain
observed.
The hunter stopped, his brows contracted, and he seemed to be
reflecting.
"No," he said, ere long, "it would make me lose precious time. You will
make my apologies to them, Captain. Moreover," he added with a bitter
smile, "our acquaintance is not sufficiently long, I fancy, for Don
Ruiz and his sister to attach any great importance to my movements, so
for the last time, good-bye."
"I will not press you," the Captain answered; "do as you please. Still,
it would have perhaps been more polite to take leave."
"Nonsense," he said, ironically; "am I not a savage? Why should I
employ that refinement of politeness which is only customary among
civilized people?"
The Captain contented himself with shrugging his shoulders as an
answer, and they went out. Five minutes later the hunter was mounted.
"Do not fail to report to the Colonel," Don Marcos said, "what happened
here today; and, above all, ask him for assistance."
"All right, Captain; and do not you go to sleep."
"_Caray_--I shall feel no inclination. So now, good-bye, and good luck!"
"Good-bye, and many thanks."
They exchanged a last shake of the hand, the hunter galloped out into
the plain, and the Captain returned to his house, muttering to himself.
"What a strange man! Is he good or bad? Who can say?"
When the supper hour arrived, the two young people, astonished at the
hunter's absence, asked after him of the captain. When the latter told
them of his departure, they felt grieved and hurt at his having gone
without bidding them farewell; and Doña Mariana especially was offended
at such unaccountable behaviour on the part of a caballero; for which,
in her desire to excuse him, she in vain sought a reason. Still they
did not show their feelings, and the evening passed very pleasantly.
At the hour for retiring, Don Ruiz, more than ever eager to rejoin
his father, reminded the Captain of the offer of service he had made
him, and asked for an escort, in order to continue his journey on
the morrow; but Don Marcos answered with a peremptory refusal, that
not only would he give no escort, but he insisted on his relations
remaining temporarily under his guard.
Don Ruiz naturally asked an explanation of his cousin; which he did not
hesitate to give, by telling them of the conversation between himself
and the hunter. Don Ruiz and his sister had been too near death to
expose themselves again to the hazards of a long journey in the desert
alone, and unable to offer any effectual defence against such persons
as thought proper to attack them; still the young man, annoyed at this
new delay, asked the Captain at what period they might hope to regain
their liberty.
"Oh! Your seclusion will not be long," the latter replied with a
smile; "so soon as I have received the reinforcements I expect from San
Estevan--that is to say, in seven or eight days at the most--I will
pick you out an escort, and you can be off."
Don Ruiz, forced to satisfy himself with this promise, thanked him
warmly; and the young people made their arrangements to pass the
week in the least wearisome way possible. But life is very dull at a
frontier post, especially when you are expecting a probable attack from
the Indians, and when, consequently, all the gates are kept shut, when
sentries are stationed all around, and the only amusement is to look
out on the plain through the loopholes.
The Captain, justly alarmed by the news the hunter had given him, had
made the best arrangements his limited resources allowed to resist any
attack from the Indians, if they appeared before the succour arrived
from San Estevan. By his orders all the rancheros and small landowners
established within a radius of fifteen leagues had been warned of an
approaching invasion, and received an invitation to take shelter within
the post.
The majority, recognising the gravity of this communication, hastened
to pack up their furniture and most valuable articles; and driving
before them their horses and cattle, hurried from all sides at once to
the fort, with a precipitation which proved the profound terror the
Indians inspired them with. In this way, the interior of San Miguel
was soon encumbered with young men and old men, women, and children,
and cattle--most of whom, unable to find lodgings in the houses, were
forced to bivouac in the yards; which, however, was but a trifling
inconvenience to them in a country where it hardly ever rains, and
where the nights are not cold enough to render sleeping in the open air
unpleasant.
The Captain organized this heterogeneous colony to the best of his
ability. The women, children, and old men were sheltered under tents or
_jacales_ made of branches, to protect them from the copious morning
dew, while all the men capable of bearing arms were exercised, so as in
case of attack to assist in the common defence.
But this enormous increase of population required an enormous stock
of provisions; and hence the Captain sent out numerous patrols for
the purpose of procuring the required corn and cattle. Don Ruiz took
advantage of this to make excursions in the vicinity; while his sister,
in the company of young girls of her own age, of whom several had
entered the fort with their families, tried to forget, or rather cheat,
the weariness of their seclusion.
The appearance of the post had completely changed; and, thanks to the
Captain's intelligence, ten days after the hunter's departure San
Miguel had become a really formidable fortress. Large trenches had been
dug, and barricades erected; but, unfortunately, the garrison, though
numerous enough to resist a sudden attack, was too weak to sustain a
long siege.
One morning, at sunrise, the sentries signalized a thick cloud of dust
advancing towards the post with the headlong speed of a whirlwind. The
alarm was immediately given; the walls were lined with soldiers; and
preparations were made to resist these men, who, though invisible, were
supposed to be enemies.
Suddenly, on coming within gunshot, the horsemen halted, the dust
dispersed, and the garrison perceived with delight that all these men
wore the Mexican uniform. A quarter of an hour later, eighty lanceros,
each carrying an infantry man behind him, entered the fort, amid the
deafening shouts of the garrison and the farmers who had sought refuge
behind the walls. It was the succour requested by the Captain, and
sent off from San Estevan by Colonel Don Gregorio.