A NARROW ESCAPE.
"It is a great honour," exclaimed José, "and you should feel proud."
I had just returned from an interview with the colonel, who had asked
me to undertake for a short time the duties of his private secretary.
It seemed a simple task then, but afterwards I regarded it differently.
For the next three weeks I was attached to the colonel, who took me
with him everywhere. A secretary is generally supposed to write, but
my work consisted in riding. Day after day, from morning till night,
we were on horseback, now travelling over sandy deserts to the
seashore, again penetrating into the heart of the mountains--hungry,
thirsty, and tired, and always in danger of falling into the hands of
the enemy.
As a measure of precaution our little force retired to Tacna, where,
much to my satisfaction, the colonel received from Lima news of an
armistice. This, of course, extended to all parts of the country; but
I was mistaken in thinking it would increase my leisure, as my time was
still kept fully occupied.
In one way this was a good thing, as it kept me from brooding over
Santiago's story, though even at the busiest times the thought of my
father's fate would creep into my mind. I saw nothing of José, who had
been left behind with some Indians to hold a mountain pass, but
occasionally I paid a brief visit to the Spanish prisoners for a chat
with the friendly major.
We had been at Tacna a month, when one evening Colonel Miller said
abruptly: "Crawford, the armistice is at an end, and we must retreat.
Tell Videla to send the stores and the sick to Arica the first thing in
the morning; then carry this order to Ilo. You will find three small
brigs there; they are to sail at once for Arica. Take Castro the guide
with you, and rejoin me on the march to Arica."
"Very good, sir," I replied, though my words belied my feelings.
However, I went out, gave Videla the colonel's message, and hunted up
the guide.
Castro was an educated Indian, trained by one of the missionaries, and
a very decent fellow. I found him sound asleep; but he rose at once,
looked to see if his bag of coca was full, loaded his pistols, and
saddled his horse.
"A pleasant night for a ride, lieutenant,"--the colonel had given me
that rank,--"and every yard will take us further from the Spaniards. I
hear that La Hera is getting ready to swoop."
"He will find his pigeon a hawk if he comes too close," I answered,
laughing. "Bring your horse, and wait for me at the hospital."
The night was still young, and many people, civilians and military,
were in the street, talking in excited whispers. It was plain that
they had heard of La Hera's approach, and were discussing what they
knew of the colonel's plans.
Soon, however, the town was left behind, and we had fairly started on
our journey. There was no danger in it, except that of getting lost,
which, with Castro for a guide, was not likely to happen. He knew the
district as well as, perhaps better than, I knew the streets of Lima.
We jogged along quietly till midnight, not wishing to tire the animals,
and then stopped near the edge of a sandy desert for an hour's rest.
By this time I had begun to hate the very sight of sand; it seemed to
me more dreary and pitiless than the stoniest of barren ground. Castro
did not mind in the least, but lay on his back looking at the starry
sky and placidly chewing his coca.
"Come, lieutenant," said he briskly at the end of an hour, "it is time
to mount;" and we were soon plodding on as patiently as before.
It was nine o'clock when we finally arrived at Ilo. It may have been
owing to my own tired state, but I thought I had never seen such a
miserable and desolate spot in all my life. The houses were wretched
mud-built hovels, and the few people in the place looked woebegone
beyond belief.
The three brigs were in keeping with the village, being old and
worm-eaten, and the craziest craft imaginable. I would not have sailed
one across a pond. However, I sought out the commander of this ragged
squadron, and gave him the colonel's order.
On reading it his face brightened, and he declared his intention of
running out to sea that very afternoon.
"He doesn't look much of a hero," observed Castro; "but," with an
expressive glance at the three floating coffins, "I imagine there are
few braver men in Peru."
"One need not be brave to seize any chance of getting away from this
depressing place," said I. "I believe I could easily take the risk of
being drowned if there were no other way of escape."
"You will have the risk, lieutenant, if we are to go afloat in these
brigs; but my opinion is that the bottoms will drop out of them before
they reach Arica."
"In that case we must either beat La Hera or be annihilated."
"That's what it looks like," replied Castro coolly.
We stabled our horses in a tumble-down shed, fed and watered them, and,
as it was impossible to leave till they were rested, lay down to snatch
a brief sleep on the ground. We were invited to use the floor of a
hovel for a couch, but after glancing at it, declined with great
politeness and many sonorous words of thanks.
When we awoke the brigs had disappeared, and a roaring wind was
sweeping down from the north.
"They'll never make headway against that," remarked Castro. "We can
return to the colonel and tell him his brigs are at the bottom of the
sea. There will be a pretty tune played presently, and La Hera will
provide the music."
To a sailor, perhaps, the danger would not have seemed formidable; but
standing on that desolate beach, listening to the hurricane rush of the
wind, I could not but think Castro was right. And if indeed he had
prophesied truly, then was our little force in sad straits. Burdened
with sick, hampered by fleeing patriots, encumbered by prisoners, with
half his troops weakened as usual by ague, the English colonel could
neither fight nor flee. What, then, could he do? By this time every
one knew him too well to dream he would surrender.
"Castro," said I, "we carry bad news, and bad news flies apace. Let us
keep up the reputation of the old proverb. Half an hour or so may make
all the difference in the world."
He made a grimace as if to say that a few minutes more or less would
matter little; but he saddled his horse promptly, nevertheless, and was
ready to start as soon as I.
"I reckon," he said, "that we may strike the road from Tacna to Arica
by midnight to-morrow, unless our animals founder by the way. Can you
trust your horse?"
"The colonel selected him."
"That ought to be sufficient warrant. The chief knows a horse, though
he will ride in the absurd English style."
There were few men in the country who would have cared to cut
themselves adrift as Castro did on this ride of ours to intercept the
marching Patriots. His only guides were those he could interpret from
nature. While daylight lasted, he steered by the sun; at night, by the
stars and the faint wind that fanned our faces.
For twenty-four hours, during which time we rested, of course, both for
our own sakes and for the sakes of our animals, not one human being
crossed our path, or even came within sight of us. And during that
time, also, we saw neither bird nor beast, nor any manner of living
thing, save only ourselves and our animals.
And then, quite unexpectedly to me, we came upon an oasis in the dreary
desert--a little hamlet with mud-walled hovels, but better than those
at Ilo, and having patches of cultivated ground enclosed. The natives
had reclaimed this piece of land by means of the waters of a
moderate-sized stream, and lived in almost as great isolation as if
they had been on Robinson Crusoe's island.
They were neither Patriots nor Royalists, and I doubt much whether they
knew of the struggle going forward; but they had kind hearts, and gave
us a warm welcome, pressing upon us gifts of fruits and vegetables to
the limits of their scanty stock. They found ample forage, too, for
the weary animals, and we stayed there a matter of three hours to rest
Castro's horse, which had shown symptoms of breaking down.
I seized this opportunity to snatch an hour's sleep; but my guide was
kept chattering by the natives, who listened with amazement to his
news. They knew no Spanish, and could not understand the native patois
I spoke; neither could I understand a word of what they said. As for
Castro, I suppose no man in South America had the gift of so many
Indian dialects.
"After all, lieutenant," exclaimed he, as we took leave of this simple
community, "I doubt if these people have not the best of life. They
eat, drink, and are at peace, caring no more for a president than for a
king."
"And doing nothing for either," I replied, laughing. "How does the
horse seem now?"
"I think he will do this journey. But if I'm to ride with the colonel,
he will have to provide me with another."
Throughout the evening we rode silently side by side, while all around
us was the awful stillness of a dead world. The sun went down, and
presently the stars gleamed above us, throwing a ghostly light over the
sea of sand.
Midnight found us still riding, and another hour passed before Castro
drew rein at the broken track leading from Tacna to Arica. Throwing
the reins over his horse's neck, and jumping down, he examined the
ground carefully, reading it as skilfully as the student reads a
printed book.
To and fro he went, casting off here and there like a hunting-dog, till
he was satisfied. Then he returned to me, saying, "Carts have gone by
hours since, and the infantry quite recently, but I see no signs of
cavalry."
"They would remain till the last minute, so as to deceive La Hera."
"That is so; but the question is, has the colonel stayed with them? It
is to him we want to give our information."
"The infantry can tell us."
"We shall waste time if he is in the rear, and time is precious."
"Let us separate. You go forward; I will ride toward Tacna."
"It is dangerous, señor."
"You forget that I have been over this route."
"Well, as you will. If the colonel has not passed, I shall return.
Keep to the track; do not wander from it either to right or to left."
"All right, Castro; I will take care."
He vaulted to the saddle, wished me a safe journey, and rode off, while
I turned my horse's head in the opposite direction. Fortunately the
night was clear, while the dawn was not far off, so that I had a great
advantage in steering my way. True, I rode at no great pace, being
both afraid and unwilling to spur my jaded beast. Now and again I even
dismounted and walked at his head to give him some relief.
It was perhaps about three o'clock in the morning. A heavy fog had
arisen, and I was riding with the greatest care, when suddenly I found
a musket pointed straight at me, and heard the demand, "Halt, or I
fire!"
The man spoke in Spanish, but his accent showed him to be an Indian,
and I hoped he was one of Miller's cavalry detachment. Whistling
softly, he was at once joined by a second and a third man, the last of
whom sharply ordered me to dismount.
At the sound of his voice I laughed aloud, saying, "You post your men
well, José, but they have not made a great capture this time. Is the
colonel here?"
"We are all here," said José, giving my hand a grip; "but I thought you
had gone to Arica. Is anything wrong?"
"A good deal," I answered, speaking in English, so that the Indians
might not understand. "I must see Colonel Miller at once."
"Jump down, then. Leave your horse here, and I will take you to him.
Mind where you step; the men are all tucked in and sound asleep."
But for the fog, I could by this time have seen my way clearly; as it
was, I could only just distinguish the ponchos enveloping the men's
heads. When the fog lifted, the light showed a more curious spectacle
than most of you have perhaps ever seen. It was the custom, whenever
we halted in a sandy desert, for each man to scoop out for himself a
shallow grave. In this he lay, scraping the loose sand over his body
for bed-clothes, and leaving his head, wrapped in his poncho, above
ground. It was, indeed, a most comfortable and delicious bed, as in
those days, or rather nights, I often proved.
The colonel lay buried alive, as it were, like his men; but he slept
lightly, and pushing off his sandy bed-clothes at our approach, he
struggled to his feet.
[Illustration: Pushing off his sandy bed-clothes at our approach, he
struggled to his feet.]
"Who is it?" he asked. "Crawford, where is your guide?"
"Gone another way to look for you, colonel."
"Have the brigs left Ilo?"
"Yes; but both Castro and I doubt if they will reach Arica. They are
altogether crazy, and as soon as they left the harbour a strong gale
from the north, which will drive them out of their course, sprang up."
"You are rather a Job's comforter," laughed the colonel. "I daresay
they will arrive all right. Still," he continued, speaking more to
himself, "everything depends upon their safe arrival--everything! Jump
in, Crawford, and have a nap; I may want you presently."
He went away with José, while I got into his bed, pulled the sand over
me, and was fast asleep before the two men had gone a dozen yards.
For two whole hours I lay like a log; then a soldier pulled the poncho
from my head, saying that the colonel waited for me at breakfast. I
rose quickly, made my toilet--not an elaborate proceeding, you may be
sure--and waited on the colonel.
"Sit down," said he, laughing; "it's early in the day for banqueting,
but we must feast when we can. I hope you are not blessed with too
good an appetite?"
"I don't think I should feel greatly tempted to indulge much at
present," I replied, with a grimace at the dried meat I was cutting.
"Indigestion would only too surely follow."
"Then," said he, and his eyes twinkled with merriment, "we will eat
sparingly. I am going straight to Arica, and you will ride with me."
"I am afraid I shall have to get you to find me a fresh horse, as my
own has broken down, colonel."
Turning to one of the soldiers near, he said, "Ask Major Videla to send
me a good horse at once.--Take your time, Crawford; I am awaiting a
messenger from Tacna."
Nearly an hour passed before he was ready, during which time I saddled
my fresh mount, transferred my holsters, and had a chat with José. He
told me they had been compelled to release their prisoners, Santiago
among them.
"I had no idea you were so hard pressed," I said.
"If La Hera doesn't blunder," answered José, "he can sweep us all into
his net. The only thing that saves us now is Miller's skill and
reputation. Every one believes he is going to show fight somewhere
between this and the coast."
Presently the colonel came along, accompanied by Major Videla, to whom
he gave final directions; and then, bidding me follow, rode from the
camp. Four miles out we came upon Castro, walking, and leading his
horse, which had fallen dead lame.
"Have you been into Arica?" asked Miller.
"No, colonel; but I have learned some news. There are four fine
vessels in the roadstead; if you could get them, the troops would be
safe."
"Ah!" cried the colonel sharply; and telling Castro to wait for the
cavalry, he rode off at a great pace towards Arica. At four o'clock we
staggered into the town, and were instantly met by the governor with a
sorrowful tale. He had secured the use of three vessels, but the
commander of the fourth absolutely refused to be either coaxed or
threatened into lending his assistance.
There was not a moment to be lost, and Colonel Miller, with no other
attendant than myself, ran down to the beach. There we got on a balsa,
or raft, which carried us to a launch, whose crew at once took us
alongside a fine North American schooner.
Clambering on deck, we found the master, to whom the colonel applied
for the loan of his vessel. The sour old sea-dog turned a deaf ear.
The colonel offered a sum of money that would have bought the schooner
outright at market value; he would have none of it.
Now, it chanced that some of the crew were Englishmen who had served
under Miller in the Chilian War; and though I did not know that, I
could plainly see how interested they were in the discussion. The
colonel saw it too, and in a few simple but terse and vigorous words he
laid the case before them.
This produced a marked effect. The men growled their approbation, and
one sturdy fellow exclaimed stoutly, "I'm not going to see a countryman
of mine hard pushed without helping him. What's your sentiments,
mates?"
"The same!" cried they.--"We'll stand by you, colonel. The Spaniards
shan't cut you off if we can help it."
"Thanks, men," replied Colonel Miller, "and I'll treat you fairly.
Neither your master nor you shall have cause to complain."
The skipper, however, was not to be appeased. He threw up his command
and went ashore with us, leaving the mate to navigate the vessel. It
was rather a high-handed proceeding, perhaps, on the colonel's part,
but he was saving his troops from an unavailing fight against
overwhelming odds.
All that night we worked like slaves. The launches could not come
close inshore, so that every one and everything had to be transported
to them on balsas. The colonel did not spare himself, and my position
procured me the honour of standing beside him knee-deep in surf while
he superintended the embarkation.
Most of the sick were got on board one or other of the four vessels,
but the worst cases had to remain in hospital. Then nearly a hundred
people of the town, who had recently joined the Patriot cause,
clamoured for protection, which was, of course, afforded.
In the morning the colonel insisted I should take a rest, but the work
continued all day, while from time to time scouts came in with the news
that La Hera was advancing at full speed. At length it was all done;
only the colonel and I remained to go on board, and we had just reached
the launch, when, with a yell and thunder of hoofs, the Royalist
cavalry galloped down to the beach.
"Just too late to take their passage," laughed Miller. "What a pity!"
"There's our late prisoner," I cried, standing up in the launch. "Look
at the rascal; he is shaking his sword at us, and laughing."
"He's a fine fellow," remarked the colonel. "I don't grudge him his
liberty."
Taking off my cap, I waved it vigorously; to which Santiago replied
with a salute; and then, as pursuit was impossible, he led his men back
into the town.