THE FLIGHT TO TLATONAC.
Boot and saddle, away! away!
We must be far e'er the breaking of day.
The standard is down,
The foe's in the town,
Forbidding us longer to stay, to stay.
Boot and saddle! we ride! we ride!
Over the prairie land side by side,
Our foemen behind,
Speed swift as the wind,
And gain on us steadily, stride by stride.
Boot and saddle! so fast! so fast!
We ride till the river be crossed and past;
Then over the plain,
With loose-hanging rein,
And find ourselves safe in the town at last.
Before them spread the plains, flat and desolate-looking, covered with
coarse grass, and stretching towards the horizon in vague immensity.
West-ward the faint flush of sunset, delicately pale, lingered low
down, but otherwise the sky was coldly clear, darkly blue, thick
sprinkled with chill-looking stars. To the right the leaden-hued waters
of the river moving sluggishly between low mud banks, and on the left
sandy wastes, alternating with hillocks and convex-shaped mounds. All
this desolation appearing ghostly under a veil of mist exhaled whitely
from the hot earth.
Over these monotonous plains galloped the six fugitives. Philip and
Jack in the van, Don Sebastian and his one soldier in the rear; between
Tim, side by side with Peter. For some time they urged on their horses
in silence. Then a sudden flare of crimson caused them to turn in their
saddles. The low walls of Janjalla were crowned with smoke, beneath
which leaped tongues of flame, crimson and yellow. A rapid, disjointed
conversation ensued.
"Those brutes are burning the city!"
"It will only be some drunken soldiers. Xuarez will soon put a stop to
that. He cannot afford to lose his city of refuge, after paying so much
to gain it."
"Must we swim our horses across the river?" called out Grench,
unexpectedly.
"Not unless the bridge is down. It was standing when we came this way a
week ago."
Philip answered the question, and then cast an anxious look at the sky.
"I wish the moon would rise," he said disconsolately; "we need some
light."
"What the deuce would be the good of that when we're on the high-road.
Hang it, the moon would only show Xuarez how to follow us."
"Que dici?" asked Don Sebastian, looking at Jack.
"The Señor Correspoñsal thinks we might be pursued."
"I doubt it, Don Juan. Xuarez will be too busy checking the excesses of
his soldiers. Besides, Señor, as we escaped in the confusion, it may be
that we will not be missed for some hours."
Peter, unaccustomed to riding, began to feel sore with this incessant
galloping, and raised his voice in protest.
"I hope we will be able to rest at Centeotl. When do we reach it?"
"Before midnight, probably. Then we will rest till dawn, get fresh
horses, and push on to Tlatonac."
"Hope we'll get there," muttered Jack, shaking his reins. "But if the
Indians----"
"Deuce take the Indians," retorted Philip, irritably. "Come on Jack,
and don't worry so much."
Their horses were fortunately quite fresh, having been mewed up in
Janjalla without exercise for some weeks. Stretching their necks, they
clattered along at a breakneck speed. The road was as hard as flint,
and their iron-shod hoofs struck out sparks from the loose stones. The
riders, with their heads bent against the wind whizzing past their
ears, let the reins hang loosely, and pressed on with blind trust along
the highway leading to Centeotl.
Here and there they passed a flat-roofed house, deserted by its
occupants, and standing up lonely, a white splotch amid the vague gloom
of its flat acreage. Clumps of trees loomed suddenly against the clear
sky, at times a ragged aloe sprang spectral-like from the reddish soil,
thorny thickets lay densely in the hollows, tall spear-grass waved on
the tops of undulating drifts of sand, and at intervals an oasis of
rank herbage would frame an oval pool thickly fringed with reeds.
The road wound onward, turning now to right, now to left, dipping into
hollows, curving over eminences, stretching white and dusty towards the
horizon like a crooked winding river. On either side they could mark
the moving forms of animals, flying from the clatter of their horses'
hoofs, cattle, vicuñas, llamas, and flocks of sheep. The white peak of
Xicotencatl arose suddenly like a ghost from the shadows of forests
lying heavily along the verge of earth between plain and sky. A thin
vapour lay white over the plain, and gathered thickly along the banks
of the river. The horses stretched their necks and neighed loudly. They
smelt the water of the stream.
"The bridge is down!" cried Jack, drawing rein at the verge of the
stream. "Indians!"
"Or Xuarez!" added Philip, gravely. "I suspect the latter. Indians are
not sufficiently civilised to destroy bridges."
The _débris_ of the bridge impeded the current, and here the waters
boiled white amid the black ruins. Jagged posts stretched in black rows
to the other side of the stream, but there was no foothold left by
which they could cross dry-shod.
"Swim!" said Tim, briefly, and sent his steed down the bank. The others
followed, and in a few minutes the surface of the stream was dotted
with black figures. The river being sluggish, with little or no
current, they found no difficulty in crossing, and speedily gained the
opposite bank. Climbing the slope on to the flat land, they regained
the line of road, and once more urged their horses to full speed.
The moon arose, round and bright, making the whole scene cheerful with
her kindly light. The fugitives looked back, but could see no sign of
pursuit. Even the town had vanished. Behind, before, lay nothing but
the immensity of the plains. It was as though they were in the midst of
a leaden-hued sea. The appearance of the moon raised their spirits, and
they redoubled their speed. Centeotl was now comparatively near. The
ground began to show signs of cultivation. Hedges of cacti ran along
the sides of the road, bearing fleshly looking flowers of tawny gold.
Right and left stretched gardens, environing country houses, and before
them arose a white line of wall.
"Centeotl!" cried Don Sebastian, pushing forward.
The gates were closed owing to the fear of the townspeople lest the
Indians should make a night attack. De Ahumada galloped on ahead, and
reined his horse immediately under the walls. At intervals the
sentinels called the one to the other, "Centinella alerte," to show
that they were awake. The noise of the approaching horses brought them
to the walls.
"Quien vive!"
"Amigos! From Janjalla."
The red light of torches glared from the low battlements, and in a few
minutes the gates were opened. The officer in charge recognised Don
Sebastian, and was much depressed at learning Janjalla had fallen.
"Dios! It is Centeotl next that Xuarez will capture," he said,
disconsolately, and then led the fugitives to the house of the Jefe
Politico.
That individual received them kindly, and gave them food and beds. He
also promised them horses for the next morning, to push on to Tlatonac,
but feared lest they should fall into the hands of the Indians, whom he
believed were further north. The telegraph-wires between Centeotl and
Hermanita had been destroyed by the savages. His town was now quite
isolated in the plains. Only five hundred men were within its walls,
and he expected it would be shortly besieged and captured by Don
Hypolito, unless aid arrived from the capital.
During the night straggling parties of soldiers arrived from Janjalla
for refuge. All brought the same tale. Janjalla was nearly in ruins, as
the rebels had fired many houses, and the bombs and cannon had smashed
others. Xuarez had kept all his men in the town, and was doing his best
to reduce them to order; but many were beyond his control. There was no
pursuit in any case. It was reported that he would throw forward two
regiments of cavalry next day, to attack Centeotl.
"Santissima!" said the Jefe, in despair; "we are lost, Señores. When
you arrive at Tlatonac, tell his Excellency that I am faithful to the
Junta, but that my town is too weak to hold out against the rebels."
De Ahumada promised and shortly afterwards, thoroughly worn out, they
all composed themselves to sleep. It was impossible, however, to get
much repose, as the constant arrival of fugitives, the clattering of
horses through the streets, and the murmur of many voices, kept them
awake. At dawn they were up at once, mounted fresh horses, and rode
away from the town in the direction of Hermanita, twenty miles away.
They reached that town in two hours, and found the inhabitants in a
state of terror. The Indians had been threatening for the last week,
and had been scouring the country to the south. Now they had gone
north, and, it was believed, with the intention of making an attack on
the Puebla de los Naranjos. Nor did the news brought by Jack and his
friends reassure them in any way. What with the Indians in the north,
and Xuarez threatening them in the south, there was no doubt that
Hermanita was in a terrible fix. As had Centeotl, they also implored
Don Sebastian to ask Gomez to send aid, lest they should fall victims
to the rebels or to the Indians.
After taking a hurried meal, the fugitives once more proceeded on their
way to the north. Towards noon they struck Puebla de los Naranjos, and
found it a heap of ruins. Undefended as were the other towns by stone
walls, the town was surrounded by orange groves, and had therefore been
easily captured by the Indians. A few terrified survivors crept about
the ruins of their houses, the streets were thick with dead bodies, and
the whole place presented a scene of unexampled desolation. Those folks
who survived said that the Indians had plundered the town two days
previously, and had then departed with the intention of taking
Chichimec. As this city was only distant twenty miles from the capital,
the little party was quite appalled at the audacity of the savages. It
showed how little they cared for the power of the Republic.
"If Gomez had crushed this rebellion at once, all would have been
well," said Jack, as they rode from the smoking ruins of Puebla de los
Naranjos; "but now it seems as though the Indians and Xuarez were going
to have it all their own way."
"Gomez should have placed the command of affairs in the hands of a
competent man, and not meddled with them," replied Philip, impatiently.
"He keeps all his army in the capital, and lets the country be laid
waste. The end will be that all the inland towns will join with Xuarez,
and the capital will be besieged. With the whole of Cholacaca against
it, the capital must fall."
"Unless the Junta can capture or sink the two remaining warships of
Xuarez," said Don Sebastian, who was fearfully enraged at the
destruction of the country.
"True! Then Xuarez won't be able to get more troops from Acauhtzin."
"He has got quite enough troops, as it is to make things unpleasant for
the capital," said Tim, in Spanish, for the benefit of Don Sebastian.
"Six thousand at Janjalla--five thousand Indians. Quite enough to
invest the town. The Junta has but eight thousand troops in Tlatonac."
"Well, that's a good number!"
"Yes; but what with his own troops and the savages, Xuarez has three
thousand to the good. Besides which, he is a capable general."
"If the Indians could only be detached from his cause, the rebellion
might be crushed," said Jack, ponderingly. "It is the only way of
saving the present Government."
"There is no chance of doing that," replied Tim, disconsolately. "The
Indians are mad about the loss of the opal, and will fight like fiends
to get it back."
"Perhaps they can be quietened by means of the opal!"
"Dios!" exclaimed Sebastian, turning in his saddle. "What mean you,
Señor?"
"I have an idea," replied Jack, quietly. "It was suggested to me by a
remark of Cocom's."
"And this idea?"
"I will not tell you at present, lest I should fail to carry it out,
and thus disappoint your hopes. Wait till we reach Tlatonac."
"If we ever do get there," muttered Philip, savagely. "Now we are half
way to Chichimec, gentlemen. There, according to report, the Indians
are camped. I vote we make a detour, and reach Tlatonac in some other
way. Do you know of a road, Don Sebastian?"
"No, Señor. I know not this country."
"I do!" cried Duval, suddenly. "I have been all over this portion. That
is a good idea of yours, Philip! We must avoid the Indians. I know a
road!"
"Bueno! Take the lead."
It was fortunate, indeed, that Philip suggested such an idea, and that
Jack's knowledge of the country enabled them to carry it out, else they
would assuredly have fallen into the hands of the Indians. Making a
detour towards the coast, they managed to avoid Chichimec by some
miles. They learned from a peon, whom they met making his way to
Tlatonac, that the town was entirely invested by the savages, but that
as yet, thanks to the strong walls, they had been unable to effect an
entrance. The Jefe Politico had sent this peon to the capital with a
request for immediate aid from Don Francisco.
"What, in God's name, can the President be thinking about?" cried Jack,
on hearing this intelligence. "He is simply playing into the hands of
his enemies."
"Things certainly look bad for the Junta, owing to his negligence.
Janjalla captured by Xuarez. Puebla de los Naranjos ravaged, Chichimec
invested. Perhaps, when the whole country is in the hands of Don
Hypolito, this very wise ruler will bestir himself."
"Wait till I have a conversation with Don Miguel!" muttered Jack,
striking the spurs into his horse. "We are outsiders, and cannot
interfere with local politics; but it makes me sick to see how Gomez is
fooling away his chances. If I can only rouse Don Miguel into making
things hot for the President, I shall do so!"
"A house divided against itself----" began Peter; but Tim cut him
short.
"Hold your tongue, Peter. Jack is quite right. Unless a good man is put
at the head of affairs, Don Hypolito will enter Tlatonac within the
month. It's a mighty black look-out for the Government. Don Francisco
ought to be shunted at once."
The peon ran alongside them, and kept up with their horses in the most
wonderful manner. It was noon when they left Puebla de los Naranjos,
and it was now late at night. In ten hours they had come nearly fifty
miles. Their horses were quite worn out, owing to the incessant
galloping. Now they were within a mile of the capital, and already, in
the dim light, could see the line of walls looming in the distance.
They were glad it was dark, or, rather, comparatively so, as it
afforded them a certain amount of protection from wandering Indian
scouts.
"The luck holds!" said Philip, thankfully, as they rode towards the
Puerta de la Culebra. "We have not seen a single savage since we left
Janjalla."
"Had it not been for your forethought, Philip, they would have had our
scalps by this time."
"My thought, but your actions, Jack. It was lucky you knew the
country."
"A mutual admiration society, you are!" cried Tim, whose spirits were
wonderfully light. "How do you feel, Peter?"
"Worn out," replied the doctor, laconically.
"Faith. I'm not astonished. I'm bumped to death also. A hundred miles
isn't bad for an inferior rider like myself."
"Oh, you are a war correspondent," began Peter, fretfully, when his
remarks were cut short by an exclamation from Sebastian.
"Dios! the gates are open! Soldiers are coming out!"
"Reinforcements for Janjalla. I've no doubt," said Philip, grimly.
"They are a trifle late. Come, gentlemen, let us see the officer in
charge."
They urged their jaded horses towards the gate. At the sight of the
little party, the soldiers halted, and an officer rode to the front.
"From whence come you, Señores?" he asked in surprise.
"From Janjalla."
"Janjalla? Why, we are just marching thither, Señor."
"You can spare yourself the trouble!" replied Jack, grimly. "Janjalla
has fallen."
The news passed rapidly from mouth to mouth, and a cry of rage went up
from the throng.
"Moreover," added Jack, quietly. "Puebla de los Naranjos has been
attacked and sacked by the Indians!"
Another cry of rage.
"And," concluded this bearer of bad news, "Chichimec is now invested by
six thousand savages."
A low murmur of dismay ran through the lines. Calamity after calamity
seemed to be falling on the heads of the Government. Suddenly a man
rode through the gate at full speed, and pulling up his horse on its
haunches, as he faced the party, made the same inquiry as had the
officer.
"Janjalla," cried Don Miguel Maraquando.
Jack uttered the same reply.
"Janjalla has fallen!"