A RIDE FOR LIFE.
'Moncrieff!' I cried, as soon as I got within hail, 'the Indians will be
on us in less than half an hour!'
'Then, boy,' replied Moncrieff, 'call in your brothers and the men; they
cannot hold the dune. We must fight them here, if it be fighting they
mean. Hurry back, I have something to show you.'
We had all returned in less than ten minutes. Greatly to our astonishment,
we found no one in the pit now, but we heard voices beneath, and I hurried
in and down.
They had found a cave; whether natural or not we could not at present say.
At one side lay a heap of mouldering bones, in the opposite corner a huge
wooden chest. Moncrieff had improvised a torch, and surely Aladdin in his
cave could not have been more astonished at what he saw than we were now!
The smoky light fell on the golden gleam of nuggets! Yes, there they were,
of all shapes and sizes. Moncrieff plunged his hand to the bottom of the
box and stirred them up as he might have done roots or beans.
This, then, was the secret the ruin had held so long--the mystery of the
giant ombu-tree.
That the Indians in some way or other had got scent of this treasure was
evident, and as these wandering savages care little if anything for gold
on their own account, it was equally evident that some white man--himself
not caring to take the lead or even appear--was hounding them on to find
it, with the promise doubtless of a handsome reward.
Not a moment was there to be lost now. The treasure must be removed. An
attempt was first made to lift the chest bodily. This was found to be
impossible owing to the decayed condition of the wood. The grain-sacks,
therefore, which formed a portion of the Gaucho's mule-trappings, were
requisitioned, and in a very short time every gold nugget was carried out
and placed in safety in a corner of our principal room in the
hunting-box.
The beasts were placed for safety in another room of the ruin, a trench
being dug before the door, which could be commanded from one of our
windows.
'How many horsemen did you count?' said Moncrieff to me.
'As near as I could judge,' I replied, 'there must be fifty.'
'Yes, there may be a swarm more. One of you boys must ride to-night to the
_estancia_ and get assistance. Who volunteers?'
'I do,' said Dugald at once.
'Then it will be well to start without delay before we are surrounded.
See, it is already dusk, and we may expect our Indian friends at any
moment. Mount, lad, and Heaven preserve you!'
Dugald hardly waited to say another word. He saw to the revolvers in his
saddle-bows, slung his rifle over his shoulder, sprang to the saddle, and
had disappeared like a flash.
And now we had but to wait the turn of events--turn how they might.
* * * * *
Dugald told us afterwards that during that memorable ride to the
_estancia_ he felt as if the beast beneath him was a winged horse instead
of his own old-fashioned and affectionate mule. Perhaps it was fear that
lent him such speed, and possibly it was fear transmitted even from his
rider. Times without number since we had come out to our new home in the
Silver West my brother had shown what sort of stuff he was made of, but a
ride like this is trying to a heart like oak or nerves like steel, and a
young man must be destitute of soul itself not to feel fear on such an
occasion. Besides, the very fact of flying from unseen foes adds to the
terror.
Down through the cactus jungle he went, galloping in and out and out and
in, himself hardly knowing the road, trusting everything to the sagacity
of the wondrous mule. Oftentimes when returning from a day on the hills,
tired and weary, he had thought the way through this strange green
bushland interminably long; but now, fleetly though he was speeding on, he
thought it would never, never end, that he would never, never come out
into the open braeland, and see, miles away beneath him, the twinkling
lights of the _estancia_. Many an anxious glance, too, did he cast around
him or into the gloomiest shades of the jungle, more than once imagining
he saw dusky figures therein with long spears ready to launch at him.
He is out at last, however; but the path is now loose and rough and stony.
After riding for some hundred yards he has to cut across at right angles
to the jungle he has left. To his horror, a dozen armed Indians at that
very moment leave the cactus, and with levelled spears and wild shouts
dash onward to intercept him. This is indeed a ride for life, for to his
immediate left is a precipice full twenty feet in height. He must gain the
end of this before he can put even a yard of actual distance betwixt
himself and the savages who are thirsting for his life. More than once he
has half made up his mind to dare the leap, but the venture is far too
great.
Nearer and nearer sweep the Indians. Dugald is close at the turning-point
now, but he sees the foremost savage getting the deadly lasso ready. He
must shoot, though he has to slacken speed slightly to take better aim.
He fires. Down roll horse and man, and Dugald is saved.
They have heard that rifle-shot far away on the _estancia_. Quick eyes are
turned towards the braelands, and, dusk though it is, they notice that
something more than usual is up. Five minutes afterwards half a dozen
armed horsemen thunder out to meet Dugald. They hear his story, and all
return to alarm the colony and put the whole place in a state of defence.
Then under the guidance of Dugald they turn back once more--a party of
twenty strong now--towards the hills, just as the moon, which is almost
full, is rising and shining through between the solemn steeple-like
poplars.
To avoid the jungle, and a probable ambuscade, they have to make a long
_detour_, but they reach the ruin at last, to find all safe and sound. The
Indians know that for a time their game is played, and they have lost; and
they disappeared as quickly and mysteriously as they came leaving not a
trace behind.
The gold is now loaded on the backs of the mules, and the journey home
commenced.
As they ride down through the giant cacti two huge vultures rise with
flapping wings and heavy bodies at no great distance. It was into that
very thicket that Moncrieff rode this morning. It was there he fired his
revolver. The vultures had been disturbed at a feast--nothing more.
Great was the rejoicing at the safe return of Moncrieff and his party from
the hills. Our poor aunt had been troubled, indeed, but Aileen was
frantic, and threw herself into her husband's arms when she saw him in
quite a passion of hysterical joy.
Now although there was but little if any danger of an attack to-night on
the _estancias_, no one thought of retiring to bed. There was much to be
done by way of preparation, for we were determined not to lose a horse,
nor even a sheep, if we could help it. So we arranged a code of signals by
means of rifle-shots, and spent the whole of the hours that intervened
betwixt the time of our return and sunrise in riding round the farms and
visiting even distant _puestos_.
My brothers and I and Moncrieff lay down when day broke to snatch a few
hours of much-needed rest.
It was well on in the forenoon when I went over to Moncrieff's mansion. I
had already been told that strangers had arrived from distant _estancias_
bringing evil tidings. The poor men whom I found in the drawing-room with
Moncrieff had indeed brought dreadful news. They had escaped from their
burned _estancias_ after seeing their people massacred by savages before
their eyes. They had seen others on the road who had suffered even worse,
and did not know what to do or where to fly. Many had been hunted into the
bush and killed there. Forts had been attacked further south, and even the
soldiers of the republic in some instances had been defeated and scattered
over the country.
The year, indeed, was one that will be long remembered by the citizens of
the Argentine Republic. Happily things have now changed for the better,
and the Indians have been driven back south of the Rio Negro, which will
for ever form a boundary which they must not cross on pain of death.
More fugitives dropped in that day, and all had pitiful, heartrending
stories to tell.
Moncrieff made every one welcome, and so did we all, trying our very best
to soothe the grief and anguish they felt for those dear ones they would
never see more on earth.
And now hardly a day passed that did not bring news of some kind of the
doings of the Indians. Success had rendered them bold, while it appeared
to have cowed for a time the Government of this noble republic, or, at
all events, had confused and paralyzed all its action. Forts were overcome
almost without resistance. Indeed, some of them were destitute of the
means of resisting, the men having no proper supply of ammunition.
_Estancia_ after _estancia_ on the frontier had been raided and burned,
with the usual shocking barbarities that make one shudder even to think
of.
It was but little likely that our small but wealthy colony would escape,
for the fact that we were now possessed of the long-buried treasure--many
thousands of pounds in value--must have spread like wild-fire.
One morning Moncrieff and I started early, and rode to a distant
_estancia_, which we were told had been attacked and utterly destroyed,
not a creature being left alive about the place with the exception of the
cattle and horses, which the Indians had captured. We had known this
family. They had often attended Moncrieff's happy little evening parties,
and the children had played in our garden and rowed with us in the
gondola.
Heaven forbid I should attempt to draw a graphic picture of all we saw!
Let it be sufficient to say that the rumours which had reached us were all
too true, and that Moncrieff and I saw sights which will haunt us both
until our dying day.
The silence all round the _estancia_ when we rode up was eloquent,
terribly eloquent. The buildings were blackened ruins, and it was painful
to notice the half-scorched trailing flowers, many still in bloom,
clinging around the wrecked and charred verandah. But everywhere about, in
the out-buildings, on the lawn, in the garden itself, were the remains of
the poor creatures who had suffered.
'Alas! for love of this were all,
And none beyond, O earth!'
Moncrieff spoke but little all the way back. While standing near the
verandah I had seen him move his hand to his eyes and impatiently brush
away a tear, but after that his face became firm and set, and for many a
day after this I never saw him smile.
* * * * *
At this period of our strange family story I lay down my pen and lean
wearily back in my chair. It is not that I am tired of writing. Oh, no!
Evening after evening for many and many a long week I have repaired up
here to my turret chamber--my beautiful study in our Castle of Coila--and
with my faithful hound by my feet I have bent over my sheets and
transcribed as faithfully as I could events as I remember them. But it is
the very multiplicity of these events as I near the end of my story that
causes me to pause and think.
Ah! here comes aunt, gliding into my room, pausing for a moment, curtain
in hand, half apologetically, as she did on that evening described in our
first chapter.
'No, auntie, you do not disturb me. Far from it. I was longing for your
company.'
She is by my side now, and looking down at my manuscript.
'Yes,' she says many times--nodding assent to every sentence, and ever
turning back the pages for reference--'yes, and now you come near the last
events of this story of the M'Crimmans of Coila. Come out to the castle
roof, and breathe the evening air, and I will talk.'
We sit there nearly an hour. Aunt's memory is better even than mine, and I
listen to her without ever once opening my lips. Then I lead her back to
the tower, and point smilingly to the harp.
She has gone at last, and I resume my story.
* * * * *
We, Moncrieff and I, saw no signs of Indians during our long ride that
day. We had gone on this journey with our lives in our hands. The very
daringness and dash of it was probably our salvation. The enemy were
about--they might be here, there, anywhere. Every bush might conceal a
foe, but they certainly made no appearance.
All was the same apparently about our _estancias_; _but_ I wondered a
little that my brothers had not come out to meet me as usual, and that
faithful, though plain-faced Yambo looked at me strangely, and I thought
pityingly, as he took my mule to lead away to the compound.
I went straight away through our gardens, and entered the drawing-room by
the verandah window.
I paused a moment, holding the casement in my hand. Coming straight out of
the glare of the evening sunset, the room appeared somewhat dark, but I
noticed Dugald sitting at the table with his face bent down over his hand,
and Donald lying on the couch.
'Dugald!'
He started up and ran towards me, seizing and wringing my hand.
'Oh, Murdoch,' he cried, 'our poor father!'
'You have had a letter--he is ill?'
'He is ill.'
'Dugald,' I cried, 'tell me all! Dugald--is--father--dead?'
No reply.
I staggered towards the table, and dropped limp and stricken and helpless
into a chair.
I think I must have been ill for many, many days after this sad news. I
have little recollection of the events of the next week--I was engrossed,
engulfed in the one great sorrow. The unexpected death of so well-beloved
a father in the meridian of life was a terrible blow to us all, but more
so to me, with all I had on my mind.
'And so, and so,' I thought, as I began to recover, 'there is an end to my
bright dreams of future happiness--_the_ dream of all my dreams, to have
father out here among us in our new home in the Silver West, and all the
dark portions of the past forgotten. Heaven give me strength to bear it!'
I had spoken the last words aloud, for a voice at my elbow said--
'Amen! Poor boy! Amen!'
I turned, and--_there stood Townley_.
'You wonder to see me here,' he said, as he took my hand. 'Nay, but nobody
should ever wonder at anything I do. I am erratic. I did not come over
before, because I did not wish to influence your mind. You have been ill,
but--I'm glad to see you weeping.'
I did really sob and cry then as if my very heart would burst and break.
* * * * *
I was well enough in a day or two to hear the rest of the news. Townley,
who was very wise, had hesitated to tell me everything at once.
But if anything could be called joyful news now surely this was--mother
and Flora were at Villa Mercedes, and would be here in a day or two.
Townley had come on before, even at considerable personal risk, to break
the news to us, and prepare us all. Mother and sister were waiting an
escort, not got up specially for them certainly, but that would see to
their safety. It consisted of a large party of officers and men who were
passing on to the frontiers to repel, or try to repel, the Indian
invasion.
* * * * *
We all went to meet mother and sister at the far-off cross roads. There
was quite a large and very well-armed party of us, and we encamped for
three days near an _estancia_ to await their coming.
It was on the morning of the fourth day that one of the Gauchos reported
an immense cloud of dust far away eastwards on the Mendoza road.
'They might be Indians,' he added.
'Perhaps,' said Moncrieff, 'but we will risk it.'
So camp was struck and off we rode, my brothers and I forming the
vanguard, Moncrieff and Archie bringing up the rear. How my heart beat
with emotion when the first horsemen of the advancing party became visible
through the cloud of dust, and I saw they were soldiers!
On we rode now at the gallop.
Yes, mother was there, and sister, and they were well. Our meeting may be
better imagined than described.
* * * * *
Both mother and Flora were established at the _estancia_, and so days and
weeks flew by, and I was pleased to see them smile, though mother looked
sad, so sad, yet so beautiful, just as she had ever looked to me.
Dugald was the first to recover anything approaching to a chastened
happiness. He had his darling sister with him. He was never tired taking
her out and showing her all the outs-and-ins and workings of our new
home.
It appeared to give him the chiefest delight, however, to see her in the
gondola.
I remember him saying one evening:
'Dear Flora! What a time it seems to look back since we parted in old
Edina. But through all these long years I have worked for you and thought
about you, and strange, I have always pictured you just as you are now,
sitting under the gondola awnings, looking piquant and pretty, and on just
such a lovely evening as this. But I didn't think you would be so big,
Flora.'
'Dear stupid Dugald!' replied Flora, blushing slightly because Archie's
eyes were bent on her in admiration, respectful but unconcealable. 'Did
you think I would always remain a child?'
'You'll always be a child to me, Flo,' said Dugald.
But where had the Indians gone?
Had our bold troops beaten them back? or was the cloud still floating over
the _estancia_, and floating only to burst?