THE ATTACK ON THE ESTANCIA.
Shortly after we had all settled down at the _estancia_, and things began
to resume their wonted appearance, albeit we lived in a state of constant
preparation to repel attack, an interview took place one day in
Moncrieff's drawing-room, at which, though I was not present, I now know
all that happened.
To one remark of Townley's my mother replied as follows:
'No, Mr. Townley, I think with you. I feel even more firmly, I believe,
than you do on the subject, for you speak with, pardon me, some little
doubt or hesitancy. Our boy's conscience must not be tampered with, not
for all the estates in the world. Much though I love Coila, from which
villainy may have banished us, let it remain for ever in the possession of
the M'Rae sooner than even hint to Murdoch that an oath, however imposed,
is not binding.'
'Yes,' said Townley, 'you are right, Mrs. M'Crimman; but the present
possessor of Coila, the younger Le Roi, or M'Rae, as he was called before
his father's death, has what he is pleased to call broader views on the
subject than we have.'
'Mr. Townley, the M'Rae is welcome to retain his broad views, and we will
stick to the simple faith of our forefathers. The M'Rae is of French
education.'
'Yes, and at our meeting, though he behaved like a perfect
gentleman--indeed, he is a gentleman--'
'True, in spite of the feud I cannot forget that the M'Raes are distant
relatives of the M'Crimmans. He must, therefore, be a gentleman.'
'"My dear sir," he said to me, "I cannot conceive of such
folly"--superstitious folly, he called it--"as that which your young
friend Murdoch M'Crimman is guilty of. Let him come to me and say boldly
that the ring found in the box and in the vault was on the finger of
Duncan--villain he is, at all events--on the night he threatened to shoot
him, and I will give up all claim to the estates of Coila; but till he
does so, or until you bring me other proof, I must be excused for
remaining where I am."'
'Then let him,' said my mother quietly.
'Nay, but,' said Townley, 'I do not _mean_ to let him. It has become the
one dream of my existence to see justice and right done to my dear old
pupil Murdoch, and I think I begin to see land.'
'Yes?'
'I believe I do. I waited and watched untiringly. Good Gilmore, who still
lives in Coila, watched for me too. I knew one thing was certain--namely,
that the ex-poacher Duncan M'Rae would turn up again at the castle. He
did. He went to beg money from the M'Rae. The M'Rae is a man of the world;
he saw that this visit of Duncan's was but the beginning of a never-ending
persecution. He refused Duncan's request point-blank. Then the man changed
flank and breathed dark threatenings. The M'Rae, he hinted, had better not
make him (Duncan) his enemy. He (M'Rae) was obliged to him for the house
and position he occupied, but the same hand that _did_ could _undo_. At
this juncture the M'Rae had simply rung the bell, and the ex-poacher had
to retire foiled, but threatening still. It was on that same day I
confronted him and told him all I knew. Then I showed him the spurious
ring, which, as I placed it on my finger, even he could not tell from the
original. Even this did not overawe him, but when I ventured a guess that
this very ring had belonged to a dead man, and pretended I knew more than
I did, he turned pale. He was silent for a time--thinking, I suppose. Then
he put a question which staggered me with its very coolness, and,
clergyman though I am, I felt inclined at that moment to throttle the man
where he stood. Would we pay him handsomely for turning king's evidence on
himself and confessing the whole was a conspiracy, and would we save him
from the legal penalty of the confessed crime?
'I assure you, Mrs. M'Crimman, that till then I had leaned towards the
belief that, scoundrel though this Duncan be, some little spark of
humanity remained in his nature, and that he might be inclined to do
justice for justice's sake. I dare say he read my answer in my eyes, and
he judged too that for the time being I was powerless to act. Could he
have killed me then, I know he would have done so. Once more he was silent
for a time. He did not dare to repeat his first question, but he put
another, "Have you any charge to make against me about _anything_?" He
placed a terribly-meaning emphasis on that word "anything." I looked at
him. I was wondering whether he really had had anything to do with the
death of old Mawsie, and if the ring of which I had the facsimile on my
finger had in reality belonged to a murdered man. Seeing me hesitate, he
played a bold card; it was, I suppose, suggested to him by the appearance
at that moment of the village policeman walking calmly past the window of
the little inn where we sat. He knocked, and beckoned to him, while I sat
wondering and thinking that verily the man before me was cleverer by far
than I. On the entrance of the policeman--"This gentleman, policeman," he
said, quietly and slowly, "makes or insinuates charges against me in
private which now in your presence I dare him to repeat." Then turning to
me--"The ball is with you," he said. And what could I reply? Nothing. I do
believe that at that very moment even the worthy village policeman
noticed and pitied my position, for he turned to Duncan, and, nodding,
made this remark in Gaelic: "I know Mr. Townley as a gentleman, and I know
you, Duncan M'Rae, to be something very different. If Mr. Townley makes no
charge against you it is no doubt because he is not prepared with proofs.
But, Duncan, boy, if you like to remain in the glen for a few days, I'm
not sure there isn't a charge or two I could rub up against you myself."
'I left the room with the policeman. Now I knew that, although foiled,
Duncan did not consider himself beaten. I had him watched therefore, and
followed by a detective. I wanted to find out his next move. It was
precisely what I thought it would be. He had heard of our poor chief
M'Crimman's death, remember. Well, a day or two after our conversation in
the little inn at Coila, Duncan presented himself at the M'Rae's
advocate's office and so pleaded his case--so begged and partially hinted
at disclosures and confessions--that this solicitor, not possessed of the
extraordinary pride and independence of the M'Rae--'
'A pride and independence, Mr. Townley,' said my aunt, 'which the M'Raes
take from their relatedness to our family.'
'That is true,' said my mother.
'Well, I was going to say,' continued Townley, 'that Duncan so far
overcame the advocate that this gentleman thought it would be for his
client's interest to accede in part to his demands, or rather to one of
them--viz., to pay him a sum of money to leave the country for ever. But
this money was not to be paid until he had taken his passage and was about
to sail for some--any--country, not nearer than the United States of
America, Mr. Moir's--the advocate's--clerk was to see him on board ship,
and see him sail.'
'And did he sail?' said my aunt, as Townley paused and looked at her.
'Yes, in a passenger ship, for Buenos Ayres.'
'I see it all now,' said my aunt. 'He thinks that no charge can be made
against him there for conspiracy or crime committed at home.'
'Yes, and he thinks still further: he thinks that he will be more
successful with dear Murdoch than he was with either the M'Rae or
myself.'
There was a few minutes' pause, my aunt being the first to break the
silence.
'What a depth of well-schemed villainy!' was the remark she made.
Moncrieff had listened to all the conversation without once putting in a
word. Now all he said was--
'Dinna forget, Miss M'Crimman, the words o' the immortal Bobbie Burns:
"The best laid schemes o' mice and men
Gang aft agley,
And leave us naught but grief and pain
For promised joy."'
* * * * *
To the fear and fever consequent upon the depredations committed by the
Indians there succeeded a calmness and lull which the canny Moncrieff
thought almost unnatural, considering all that had gone before. He took
pains to find out whether, as had been currently reported, our Argentine
troops had been victorious all along the frontier line. He found that the
report, like many others, had been grossly exaggerated. If a foe retires,
a foe is beaten by the army which _sees_ that foe retire. This seems too
often to be the logic of the war-path. In the present instance, however,
the Indians belonged to races that lived a nomad life. They were
constantly advancing and retreating. When they chose to advance in this
particular year there was not a sufficient number of cavalry to oppose
them, nor were the soldiers well mounted. The savages knew precisely on
what part of the stage to enter, and they did not think it incumbent on
them to previously warn our Argentine troops. Indeed, they, like sensible
savages, rather avoided a conflict than courted one. It was not conflict
but cattle they were after principally; then if at any time strategy
directed retreat, why, they simply turned their horses' heads to the
desert, the pampas, or mountain wilds, and the troops for a time had seen
the last of them.
I think Moncrieff would have made a capital general, for fancied security
never sent him to sleep. What had happened once might happen again, he
thought, and his _estancias_ were big prizes for Indians to try for,
especially as there was plenty to gain by success, and little to lose by
defeat.
I have said that our Coila Villa was some distance from the fortified
Moncrieff houses. It was now connected with the general rampart and
ditches. It was part and parcel of the whole system of fortification; so
my brothers and I might rest assured it would be defended, if ever there
was any occasion.
'It seems hard,' said Townley to Moncrieff one day, 'that you should be
put to so much trouble and expense. Why does not the Government protect
its settlers?'
'The Government will in course of time,' replied Moncrieff. 'At present,
as we lie pretty low down in the western map, we are looked upon as rich
pioneers, and left to protect ourselves.'
They were riding then round the _estancias_, visiting outlying _puestos_.
'You have your rockets and red-lights for night signals, and your flags
for day use?' Moncrieff was saying to each _puestero_ or shepherd.
'We have,' was the invariable reply.
'Well, if the Indians are sighted, signal at once, pointing the fan in
their direction, then proceed to drive the flocks towards the _estancias_.
There,' continued Moncrieff, 'there is plenty of corraling room, and we
can concentrate a fire that will, I believe, effectually hold back these
raiding thieves.'
One day there came a report that a fort had been carried by a cloud of
Indians.
This was in the forenoon. Towards evening some Gauchos came in from a
distant _estancia_. They brought the old ugly story of conflagration and
murder, to which Moncrieff and his Welsh partner had long since become
used.
But now the cloud was about to burst over our _estancia_. We all ate our
meals together at the present awful crisis, just, I think, to be company
to each other, and to talk and keep up each other's heart.
But to-day Moncrieff had ordered an early dinner, and this was ominous.
Hardly any one spoke much during the meal. A heaviness was on every heart,
and if any one of us made an effort to smile and look cheerful, others saw
that this was only assumed, and scarcely responded.
Perhaps old Jenny spoke more than all of us put together. And her remarks
at times made us laugh, gloomy though the situation was.
'They reeving Philistines are coming again, are they? Well, laddie, if the
worst should happen I'll just treat them to a drap parridge.'
'What, mither?'
'A drap parridge, laddie. It was boiled maize I poured ower the shoulders
o' them in the caravan. But oatmeal is better, weel scalded. Na, na,
naething beats a drap parridge. Bombazo,' she said presently,'you've been
unco quiet and douce for days back, I hope you'll no show the white
feather this time and bury yoursel' in the moold like a rabbit.'
Poor Bombazo winced, and really, judging from his appearance, he had been
ill at ease for weeks back. There was no singing now, and the guitar lay
unheeded in its case.
'Do not fear for me, lady. I am burning already to see the foe.'
'Weel, Bombazo man, ye dinna look vera warlike. You're unco white about
the gills already, but wae worth the rigging o' you if ye dinna fecht. My
arm is strong to wield the auld ginghamrella yet.'
'Hush, mither, hush!' said Moncrieff.
Immediately after dinner Moncrieff beckoned to Townley, and the two left
the room and the house together.
'You think the Indians will come to-night?' said Townley, after a time.
'I know they will, and in force too.'
'Well, I feel like an idler. You, General Moncrieff, have not appointed me
any station.'
Moncrieff smiled.
'I am now going to do so,' he said, 'and it is probably the most important
position and trust on the _estancia_.'
They walked up as far as the great canal while they conversed.
Arrived there, Moncrieff pointed to what looked like a bundle of
brushwood.
'You see those branches?'
'Yes.'
'And you see that wooden lock or huge doorway?'
'I do.'
'Well, my friend, the brushwood conceals a sentry-box. It overlooks the
whole _estancia_. It conceals something else, a small barrel of gunpowder,
which you are to hang to the hook yonder on the wooden lock, and explode
the moment you have the signal.'
'And the signal will be?'
'A huge rocket sent up from either my _estancia_ house or Coila Villa.
There may be several, but you must act when you see the first. There is
fuse enough to the bomb to give you time to escape, and the bomb is big
enough to burst the lock and flood the whole ditch system in and around
the _estancia_. You are to run as soon as you fire. Further on you will
find another brushwood place of concealment. Hide there. Heaven forbid I
should endanger a hair of your head! Now you know your station!'
'I do,' said Townley, 'and thankful I am to think I can be of service in
this great emergency.'
Before dark all the most valuable portion of our stock was safely
corraled, and silence, broken only by the occasional lowing of the cattle
or the usual night sounds of farm life, reigned around and over the
_estancia_.
Later on Townley stole quietly out, and betook himself to his station.
Still later on Yambo rode in and right up to the verandah of our chief
sitting-room. The horse he bestrode was drenched in sweat. He had seen
Indians in force; they were even now advancing. He had ridden for his
life.
The order 'Every man to his quarters!' was now given.
The night which was to be so terrible and so memorable in the annals of
Moncrieff's _estancia_ had begun. It was very still, and at present very
dark. But by and by the moon would rise.
'A rocket, sir!' we heard Archie shout from his post as sentinel; 'a
rocket from the south-western _puesto_.'
We waited, listening, starting almost at every sound. At length in the
distance we could plainly hear the sound of horses' hoofs on the road, and
before many minutes the first _puestero_ rode to the gate and was
admitted. The men from the other _puestos_ were not far behind; and, all
being safe inside, the gates were fastened and fortified by triple bars of
wood.
All along the ditches, and out for many yards, was spread such a thorny
spikework of pointed wood as to defy the approach of the cleverest Indian
for hours at least.
While we waited I found time to run round to the drawing-room. There was
no sign of fear on any face there, with the exception perhaps of that of
poor Irish Aileen. And I could well believe her when she told me it was
not for herself she cared, but for her 'winsome man.'
I was talking to them as cheerfully as I could, when I heard the sound of
a rifle, and, waving them good-bye, I rushed off to my station.
Slowly the moon rose, and before many minutes the whole _estancia_ was
flooded with its light. And how we thanked Heaven for that light only
those who have been situated as we were now can fully understand.
Up it sailed between the dark whispering poplars. Never had these trees
seemed to me more stately, more noble. Towering up into the starry sky,
they seemed like sentinels set to guard and defend us, while their taper
fingers, piercing heavenwards, carried our thoughts to One who never
deserts those who call on Him in faith in their hour of need.
The moon rose higher and higher, and its light--for it was a full
moon--got still more silvery as it mounted towards its zenith. But as yet
there was no sign that a foe as remorseless and implacable as the tiger of
the jungle was abroad on the plains.
A huge fire had been erected behind the mansion, and about ten o'clock the
female servants came round our lines with food, and huge bowls of steaming
_mate_.
Almost immediately after we were at our quarters again.
I was stationed near our own villa. Leaning over a parapet, I could not
help, as I gazed around me, being struck with the exceeding beauty of the
night. Not far off the lake shone in the moon's rays like a silver mirror,
but over the distant hills and among the trees and hedges was spread a
thin blue gauzy mist that toned and softened the whole landscape.
As I gazed, and was falling into a reverie, a puff of white smoke and a
flash not fifty yards away, and the ping of a bullet close to my ear,
warned me that the attack had commenced.
There had been no living thing visible just before then, but the field on
one side of our villa was now one moving mass of armed Indians, rushing on
towards the ditch and breastwork.
At the same moment all along our lines ran the rattle of rifle-firing.
That savage crowd, kept at bay by the spikework, made a target for our men
that could hardly be missed. The war-cry, which they had expected to
change in less than a minute to the savage shout of victory, was mingled
now with groans and yells of anger and pain.
But this, after all, was not the main attack. From a red signal-light far
along the lines I soon discovered that Moncrieff was concentrating his
strength there, and I hastened in that direction with five of my best men.
The Indians were under the charge of a _cacique_ on horseback, whose
shrill voice sounded high over the din of battle and shrieks of the
wounded. He literally hurled his men like seas against the gates and
ramparts here.
But all in vain. Our fellows stood; and the _cacique_ at length withdrew
his men, firing a volley or two as they disappeared behind the hedges.
There was comparative silence for a space now. It was soon broken,
however, by the thunder of Indian cavalry. The savages were going to
change their tactics.