RESCUED
He threw himself down on the platform, which was entirely deserted, and
lay there for five minutes; then he unwound the coil of leather-thong,
and threw the weighted end over. He knew that he had allowed ample
length, and drew it in until he felt a slight strain; then came three
jerks. The party below had hold of the thong; two more jerks told that
they had fastened the end of the lariat to it; in a couple of minutes it
was in his hands. There was a parapet some eighteen inches high along
the edge of the platform, intended doubtless to prevent the children
from falling over. Seeing no place to which he could fasten the lariat,
he tied it round the middle of the two poles, laid these on the ground
close to the parapet, put his feet upon them, and then leaned over. Two
pulls on the lariat told him that the next man was tied on, and he began
at once to haul upon it. He found the weight much less than he had
expected. Not only was the vaquero short and wiry, but he was using both
his hands and feet with such effect that in five minutes he stood beside
Will.
The work went on quickly now. One after another the men were pulled up,
and in less than an hour all were assembled on the platform, where, save
three engaged in pulling their comrades up, they had laid down as soon
as they reached it. Will had been glad to relinquish the work to others,
for his hands were cut and bleeding. He had crawled along, keeping by
the wall of rock until he reached the point where the bulge or bend in
the face of the cliff enabled him to see to the other end of the
platform. To his surprise not a soul was visible, but, peering over the
parapet, he saw four figures standing as sentinels at the points where
there were breaks in the path, and the moonlight enabled him to make out
that the ladders had been pulled up and laid beside them.
He could hear a confused hum of voices from the principal cave, but,
though most anxious to know what was going on there, he dared not
venture farther until all the men were up, as anyone coming out of the
cave would at once see him. He therefore rejoined the others. Each man
as he came up gave him a silent grip of the hand, and the Indian chief
muttered something which Sancho whispered meant "heap great brave". As
soon as the last man was up they moved silently forward. Every man knew
the part he had to play. Sancho and three others crept forward on hands
and knees, under shelter of the parapet, to the other end of the
platform, where they were to await the signal, the rest halting at the
front of the main entrance to the cave.
Here a sight met their eyes that filled them with horror. The entrance
opened into a wide hall, which was lighted by a dozen torches. At the
farther end was a hideous idol carved from a solid rock; in front of
this was a sort of altar, upon which lay a figure, which they at once
recognized as that of Donna Clara. Beside her stood two men, naked to
the waist, with their bodies painted with strange figures. They had
knives in their hands, and, rocking themselves to and fro, were uttering
some sort of prayer or incantation.
"You take the fellow to the left, Antonio, I will take the other."
[Illustration: THE FIGHT IN THE CAVE]
The shots rang out together--the distance was but sixteen or seventeen
yards--and without a cry the two priests or executioners fell dead. A
terrible cry of astonishment and dismay broke from the crowd, and before
they could recover from their surprise, the vaqueros and the two
Indians, headed by Will, burst their way through them. Will had given
strict orders that there was to be no general firing, as men, women, and
children were likely to be mixed up together, but as they entered they
caught the sound of four rifles outside, and knew that the sentries had
been disposed of. Will caught up the girl, who was evidently insensible,
and threw her over his shoulder, and, surrounded by his men, made his
way outside the cave. Here he handed her over to Antonio, who was a very
powerfully built man, and the latter, without a word, started for the
steps.
"Now, my men," Will shouted, as with cries of fury the Indians followed
them, "don't spare one of these bloodthirsty wretches, but don't touch
the women."
The fight was short, half the Indians being shot down as they poured out
on to the platform; the others, however, maddened by the loss of their
expected victim and the capture of their stronghold, fought desperately
to the end, the Mexicans using the butt ends of their rifles, while the
savages fought with knives. After the fight was over, the cave was
thoroughly searched; many of the women had fallen, for they had joined
in the fight as fiercely as the men, and in the darkness and confusion
it was impossible to distinguish them apart. The rest, with the
children, were forced to descend the steps. The ladders had been
replaced by Sancho and his party, who, having finished their work, had
run off at once to bring up the horses.
Clara was still unconscious when they returned. Will mounted, and
Antonio handed her to him. Sancho and two of the men accompanied him,
while the rest in charge of the captives followed more slowly. Fires
were blazing high at the Moquis village, and it was evident that the
attack had been eagerly watched, and that the firing on the platform had
shown that the caves had been taken, for on the still night air came
the sound of horses, drums, and loud shouting. Will at once urged his
horse into the water, his companions swimming by their horses close to
him so as to render assistance, if necessary; but the distance was
short, and it was not long before the horse felt the bottom again. The
sudden chill of the water had roused the girl from her faint.
"Where am I?" she murmured.
"You are safe in my arms," Will said. "We have got you safely out of the
hands of those wretches. All danger is over."
"Is it Will," she asked, "or am I dreaming?"
"It is I, sure enough, Clara," he said; "and I am glad that for once you
have dropped the don. I followed you with Antonio and Sancho and
thirteen other vaqueros. We were joined by the Genigueh chief, Teczuma,
and one of his tribe, who have been invaluable in following your track."
"Holy Virgin, I thank you!" the girl murmured, and then lay silent for a
time.
"Where are you going now?" she asked presently.
"To the Moquis village, where you will be most kindly received, and
where we shall stay till you have got your strength again."
"Zona, my gallant Zona! Is she safe?"
"Yes. She seemed pretty nearly recovered from her fatigue when we found
her this morning, and will be ready to carry you back again."
As they approached the hill they saw a number of people coming down the
zigzag path, with torches, who welcomed Will on his arrival with loud
cries of triumph. The horses could go no farther, as the path, like that
up to the caverns, was at several points cut away, the breaks being in
the daytime filled with long planks. As the girl was altogether unable
to walk, some of the boys ran up the hill, and in a quarter of an hour
returned with some poles, with which a litter was speedily improvised.
In this she was laid, and four Moquis carried her up the hill, Will
walking beside her and holding her hand. The whole of the villagers
were assembled on the top of the hill, shouting and dancing with joy at
the destruction of their enemies, for Sancho had already made the chiefs
aware that all the men had been killed, and the women and the children
were being brought in as prisoners.
The Moquis houses surprised Will, as they had neither windows nor doors
on the ground floor, and entrance was only obtainable by a ladder to the
upper story. Clara was here handed over to the care of the principal
women of the village. Half an hour later the rest of the party came up
with the prisoners. These were for the time confined in one of the
houses, two armed Moquis keeping guard over them. The women would,
Sancho explained to Will, be used as servants and to fetch water from
the springs at the foot of the hill. The children would probably be
adopted into the tribe.
It was ten days before Clara was strong enough to think of starting. She
had for twenty-four hours been in a high fever, but the care lavished
upon her, and her fine constitution, speedily brought her through this,
and two days later she was able to see Will.
"Tell me all that has happened," she said. "I feel sure that mother has
been killed, for the valley was full of Indians, and I know that there
were but few men at home."
"I am afraid that there is no doubt about that," Will said gently. "We
may be thankful, Clara, that your father and Juan were both away, or
they, too, might have fallen."
Then he related very briefly how those by the river had been saved, how
they had learned from Sancho that she had been away at the end of the
valley, and how they had started in chase; and then, in a few words,
told how he had scaled the face of the cliff, had assisted his followers
up, and had arrived just in time.
"I will tell you about my journey another time," she said. "I do not
like to think of the last part of it; we were both worn out, Zona and I,
and if we had not come down upon the river we should have both died. I
took a long drink, and then fell down and went to sleep. I was awakened
by being lifted up, and found that I was being carried by two Indians,
and that others were all round me. I was too weak even to struggle, but
I remember being carried up a very steep path on the face of the cliff.
As soon as I was laid down I went to sleep, and I suppose slept all
night. In the morning they gave me food and water, but left me alone
till it was dark again; then they led me into a large cave lit up by
torches, with a horrible idol at the end. They laid me down on a great
stone in front of it, and two men with knives came beside me. Then I
suppose I fainted, and I remember nothing more till I woke up feeling
strangely cold as we were swimming across that river."
Almost the whole of the inhabitants of the village paid a visit to the
cave on the morning after the fight, and when shown the ropes, still
hanging, by which the party had been drawn up, could at first hardly
believe Sancho and the two Indians who assured them that Will had
climbed up there unaided. After Clara's illness had taken a turn, and
there was no longer cause for anxiety about her, Will was greatly
interested in the Moquis village. He was taken into one of the
underground rooms that served as temples, and was horrified at finding
that hundreds of rattlesnakes and other venomous serpents were kept
there, and still more astonished when he saw the priests handle them
carelessly and take them in their mouths. He could not believe that they
had not been rendered harmless until shown that they still retained
their poison-fangs. He was told that once a year there was a great
festival in which all the men in the village took part and performed
dances, holding the snakes in their mouths.
The villagers endeavoured to show their thankfulness at the destruction
of their enemies by profuse hospitality to their guests, and the latter
thoroughly enjoyed their stay. On starting on the return journey Clara
rode with Will, the two vaqueros, and the Indian chief to the foot of
the cliff, and was shown the spot where Will had climbed up. After
looking at it for some time she suddenly burst into tears.
"It is dreadful even to think of your going up there, Will," she said.
"I should never have forgiven myself if you had been killed when risking
your life in that way to save me."
"You would never have known it," he said.
"I should have known it," she said earnestly, "when we met in the
Hereafter."
The journey home was conducted in easy stages. Wolf, the Indian, and one
of the vaqueros had been sent off the day after Clara rallied from her
attack of fever. If they found the Apaches still in the valley, they
were to return to warn them; if not, they were to ride on until they met
Señor Sarasta and told him of his daughter's safety.
When half-way back they met Juan with ten well-armed vaqueros. The
meeting was a joyful one, although saddened by the loss, now confirmed,
of their mother.
"Ah! Will," Juan exclaimed, after his first tender embrace of his
sister, "you are tenfold my brother now. You have saved Clara's life as
well as mine; your messengers have told me how you scaled a cliff that
seemed to all of them so impossible that none had the slightest hope
that you could succeed."
"And how are things in the valley?"
"Better than might have been hoped. The red-skins only remained three
days; some ten thousand of the cattle have been recovered; many were
found in the woods in the hillsides, more still had gone right up the
valley, and when the red-skins tried to follow them they were assailed
with such showers of arrows by the Geniguehs that they fell back, having
indeed already as many cattle as they could drive away. Two of the men
from the raft brought us the news to San Diego, and the commandant at
once told off one hundred cavalry to accompany us, and in future a fort
is to be built near the hacienda, and fifty soldiers are to be stationed
there. The commandant was rather reluctant to agree to this until he had
received orders from government, but on our undertaking to supply the
garrison with bread and meat, he consented, seeing that it would be a
distinct saving of expense. So we need have no fear of the red-skins
meddling with us again. My father has already sent down to Monterey to
arrange for the purchase of ten thousand head of cattle from the ranches
there, so in two or three years we shall be in full working order again.
We found twenty of the vaqueros assembled at the hacienda; they had
taken to the woods at the first attack, and had remained in hiding until
they found that the red-skins had gone."
A messenger was at once sent on ahead to inform Señor Sarasta of the
time at which the party would arrive, and he met them at the upper end
of the valley. The meeting was an affecting one. After embracing his
daughter the Mexican threw his arms round Will with as much affection as
if he had been his father.
"I did not think," he said, when the first emotion was over, "when I
left you in charge that the duty would be such an onerous one, but you
have nobly fulfilled your trust, most nobly, and I thank you from the
bottom of my heart."
On arriving at the hacienda they found that great efforts had been made
to remove all signs of the visit of the Apaches. Donna Sarasta had been
buried in the little chapel near the house. The broken and torn-up
shrubs had been replaced, and although inside the rooms were bare, for
the furniture had been hacked to pieces by the red-skins, everything was
spotlessly clean. Will did not enter with Señor Sarasta into the house,
but went straight to the stables with the vaqueros and saw his horse and
Zona cared for. When he went to the house, Don Sarasta and Juan went out
to him.
"We have been talking together, Will," the Mexican said, "and the result
is this: I do not know what your sentiments may be, but I have
ascertained those of my daughter. We have been as one family for seven
or eight months. We all wish that we shall continue to be so in reality,
and I now offer you formally the hand of my daughter, Donna Clara
Sarasta, in marriage. I know that I can intrust her happiness to you,
and the match will afford both myself and Juan the most lively
satisfaction."
"It would be altogether beyond my hopes, señor," Will said, greatly
moved. "I will not deny that I have from the first had a profound
admiration for your daughter, but I should never have spoken of it,
seeing that I am at present a penniless man, and am, indeed, much below
the age at which we think of marriage in the States."
The Mexican smiled. "According to Spanish law, and our own policy, the
legal age for marriage is fourteen for the man and twelve for the woman,
and although it is not often that marriages take place quite so young as
that, they are very frequent when the man is sixteen and the girl
fourteen or fifteen; therefore, that is no obstacle whatever."
"Then, señor, I accept your generous offer most gladly and thankfully,
and shall consider myself the most fortunate man alive in winning such a
bride as Donna Clara."
"Well, you had better go in and tell her so," the señor said. "I think
that that will be more in accordance with your American customs than for
me to go in and formally hand her over to you."
Three months later a double marriage took place at San Diego. Don
Sarasta settled a large sum of money upon his daughter, and, with Juan's
cordial assent, arranged that at his death the hacienda and ranch, and,
indeed, all of his property, should become the joint property of his son
and daughter, with power to make any future division of it that they
might think fit. After remaining a week at San Diego, Will sailed with
his wife to Panama, crossed the isthmus, and took ship to New York,
where he astounded his father and mother by presenting to them his wife,
and mentioning casually that she had a fortune of $200,000, and was
joint heiress to estates and property worth at least $2,000,000, which
caused Mr. Harland, senior, to acknowledge that Will's mania for the sea
had not turned out so badly after all.
* * * * *
HISTORICAL TALES BY G. A. HENTY
The Cat of Bubastes: A Story of Ancient Egypt.
For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem.
The Dragon and the Raven: or, The Days of King Alfred.
A Knight of the White Cross: The Siege of Rhodes.
The Lion of St. Mark: A Story of Venice in the 14th Century.
A March on London: A Story of Wat Tyler.
At Agincourt: A Tale of the White Hoods of Paris.
St Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars.
By England's Aid: or, The Freeing of the Netherlands.
The Lion of the North: A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus.
When London Burned: A Story of the Great Fire.
A Jacobite Exile: In the Service of Charles XII.
Bonnie Prince Charlie: A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden.
At the Point of the Bayonet: A Tale of the Mahratta War.
With Frederick the Great: The Seven Years' War.
True To the Old Flag: The American War of Independence.
In the Reign of Terror: The French Revolution.
A Roving Commission: A Story of the Hayti Insurrection.
At Aboukir and Acre: Napoleon's Invasion of Egypt.
Under Wellington's Command: The Peninsular War.
Through the Fray: A Story of the Luddite Riots.
One of the 28th: A Story of Waterloo.
On the Irrawaddy: A Story of the First Burmese War.
Maori and Settler: A Story of the New Zealand War.
By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti War.
Out with Garibaldi: A Story of the Liberation of Italy.
The Dash for Khartoum: A Tale of the Nile Expedition.
With Roberts To Pretoria: A Tale of the South African War.
LONDON: BLACKIE & SON, LIMITED, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C.