JOHN LONGMORE’S REVENGE.
Señor Cisneros returned from the interior toward the latter end of
January, and immediately after the report of the surveyor and the deputy
inspector had been filed, a patent was issued to the Bella Mining
Company of Callao and New York, to dig ores from the district which had
been chartered and to extract precious metals therefrom.
Beyond this action, which secured the claim, nothing could be done until
peace should be declared. Hope-Jones and Ferguson undoubtedly had
interested capitalists of the United States, but it was impossible for
the Englishman and American to reenter Callao; and it was equally
impossible for them to communicate with their associates in Peru,
because all mail service had ceased with the establishment of the
blockade.
The fact that mining operations had been delayed did not greatly
inconvenience the Dartmoors, for the banks of Lima were only too glad to
come to their assistance. And at that period occurred a demand for
agricultural implements, so great that the receiver who had control of
the bankrupt hardware store reported rapidly increasing business,
notwithstanding the fact that Callao was often under fire; and with the
consent of local creditors he engaged the former owner of the
establishment to conduct the new trade, which promised soon to pay all
indebtedness and leave a profit.
Mr. Dartmoor regretted that he had not sent his wife and children to the
States, when he saw how the war promised to drag along; and Captain
Saunders was sorry that he had not insisted upon Carl going north with
his mother. But the boys were very well satisfied to remain. Not a day
passed without some excitement—the firing upon forts and the attacks on
war-ships at anchor, and the kaleidoscopic panorama of Lima, which was
the centre of a brilliant army corps.
The Dartmoors lived in the capital until the latter part of June, when
the bombardments having practically ceased, they reopened the house at
Chucuito and lived there part of the time. Mrs. Dartmoor and Rosita
would pass several days in each week in the spacious suburban home,
returning to Lima in the evening; but Louis and Harvey would frequently
remain all night, and usually Carl Saunders was with them. Although the
boys enjoyed life in Lima for a season, they were happier near the
ocean, for all three were splendid swimmers, and every morning they
could run over to the Santa Rosa beach and have a dip before breakfast.
On one of these occasions—it was the morning of July 3—they left home
somewhat earlier than usual; indeed, it was a half hour before dawn, for
they had been asked to go to Callao immediately after breakfast and
assist on their father’s books.
“Whew!” exclaimed Louis, as they emerged from the house. “It’s rather
cold for a dip, isn’t it?”
“The water is warmer than the air, fortunately,” said Carl, who had been
a visitor for nearly a fortnight with his chums.
“And a brisk run will put us in condition,” added Harvey. “So let’s be
off!”
They started at a swinging pace to cover the quarter mile, which was the
width of the peninsula at this point, and leaving behind them the rough
breakers of Mar Bravo, in which no man could live, they rapidly neared
the more peaceful shore on the bay side, where bathing was safe for
those who could swim.
But they did not take a “dip” on this morning; instead they became
witnesses to a tragedy, one of the tragedies of history.
For, as the lads swung down beneath the Santa Rosa fort, toward the line
where the rollers break, they saw a number of forms gathered on the
beach, and a sentinel’s call to “halt” brought them to a sudden stand.
An officer came running up, a very small officer, who, as soon as he saw
who the intruders were, exclaimed, “Good morning, boys”; and recognizing
General Matajente, they at once felt at their ease.
“You are out rather early, are you not?” he asked. “But you are in time
to witness something that I am sure will interest you. How would you
like to see the _Blanco Encalada_ blown out of water?”
This question was asked in a whisper; and without waiting for it to be
answered, the diminutive general turned and walked down to the beach,
closely followed by the three thoroughly astonished and interested lads.
A dozen officers and a score of soldiers and sailors were gathered near
the water line; but towering above them all was a figure that the boys
at once recognized in the growing light, and Harvey, exclaiming: “Why
that’s John Longmore! I haven’t seen him since the _Huascar_ was
captured!” darted forward and seized his old-time friend by the hand.
The man thus addressed had once been a recluse on San Lorenzo Island,
having lived there in solitude from the time of his wife’s death until
the outbreak of the war with Chile. He was an American by birth, but he
had so loved his Peruvian wife, for whom he had abandoned the sea, that
for her sake he had sworn allegiance to this South American country.
When war had been declared he enlisted on board the _Huascar_ and was
one of the crew during all her famous engagements. Wounded during the
fight off Point Angamos, he was sent home; and soon thereafter he
followed Captain Matajente into the ranks of Pierola’s forces, and took
part in the famous charge upon the artillery in Lima.
The boys had known him while he lived on San Lorenzo Island, frequently
rowing over to the rugged place where his hermit’s hut was perched; they
had been with him during some of the exciting scenes of the early war
and had witnessed his daring in Lima. But since old John had become a
captain in the Peruvian army they had not met him as frequently, and a
week before Harvey’s return he had been sent north on recruiting duty;
so the lad had not been able to greet him until this morning.
He grasped Harvey cordially by the hand, exchanged a few words with him,
then with Carl and Louis, and finally saying, “You are just in time,” he
left them to attend to the work in hand.
A remarkable sight met their gaze when they turned from greeting their
old-time friend to learn what was going forward. For a space of several
yards the beach appeared to have been transformed into a market stall.
The sand and stones were covered with meats and fresh vegetables, of a
quality that would have made them tempting even before the blockade had
transformed ordinary food products into delicacies, and of a quantity
that bespoke a large outlay of money. Rich red shoulders of beef, the
fat white and firm, told of the slaughter of a young Andean bull;
rounded joints of lamb and mutton spoke of importations from the fertile
grazing lands of the interior. Quail, snipe, and plover, which all knew
must have come from the mountain valleys, were piled promiscuously, and
so were barnyard fowl of the western slope. There was much green stuff
in sight—corn, sweet potatoes, cauliflower, and beans; baskets were
filled with tomatoes, paltas, and the tempting chirimoyas.
The boys looked upon all this in astonishment, marvelling equally
concerning the use to which it was about to be put, and the means by
which it had been procured. In the rapidly growing light, they saw other
strange sights—articles in marked contrast with the wealth of edibles:
barrels marked “gunpowder” and kegs filled with even more powerful
explosives. Near these was a peculiar machine, resembling druggists’
scales inverted, and minus the weighing pans. Drawn up on the beach, so
that only the stern rested in the water, was a large lighter. A number
of sentinels surrounded this strange conglomeration and also the
soldiers, sailors, and officers of both army and navy, who were gathered
near.
“Harvey,” said General Matajente, approaching the boys, “it’s lucky you
came. Can you tell us what time the tide turns? Since Captain Longmore
and I left the navy, to join the land forces, we have not kept posted on
such matters.”
It was not unusual for persons to appeal to the younger Dartmoor boy for
information concerning conditions in the bay. For three years before
going into the interior, he had made them a special study, and had found
that the information so gained aided him greatly when acting as coxswain
in regattas. After removing from Lima to Chucuito, he had resumed these
observations, probably more from force of habit than other reason, and
so he was able to answer promptly, “At twenty-nine minutes after six,
sir.”
“Then we have no time to lose. Captain, as this is your idea, I wish you
to take command here and carry out your plans.”
At the order from General Matajente, Old John—the boys could not think
of him save as Old John, the sailor, although he was now an artillery
officer—stepped forward, and by his command work was begun. The object
of their endeavor at first puzzled the lads, but in a few minutes all
became quite clear.
Sailors and soldiers rolled the barrels and kegs of explosives to the
side of the lighter, and the larger ones were lifted into the hull and
placed amidships. Also into the hull went Old John, who was handed the
peculiar mechanical contrivance, and the boys, who were permitted to
peer over the sides, saw him make fast the base to the floor of the
craft, then busy himself adjusting the arms, to one of which they saw a
spring had been attached. The kegs of explosives were now passed in and
placed nearer the peculiar machine than had been the barrels, then
Captain Longmore, still remaining within the lighter, directed that the
provisions be handed to him.
The more bulky of these, such as the shoulders of beef, were distributed
on the bottom of the boat, but arranged in such a manner that portions
of their surface would show above the mass of green stuff that was soon
thrown in. Although the beef, mutton, potatoes, cauliflower, and the
other vegetables were stowed away in bow and stern with apparent
carelessness, more attention was given to the placing of the products
amidships, in the vicinity of the explosives, and above the mechanism a
space about a foot in diameter was kept open.
The game, the fruit, and the smaller vegetables were placed in tempting
array on top of the coarser products, and after adjusting the edibles to
his satisfaction, John Longmore sprang out and called all the sailors
round him.
“Now, in with her, men! But carefully, so as not to dislodge the cargo!
Wade out beyond the line of breakers and hold her there, steady, until I
come.”
They formed ten deep on each side of the craft, and slowly pushed her
down the beach and into the water; then, following orders, they waded
out until the bow was about ten feet from shore. The big boat rose and
fell on the glassy rollers, and was kept in place by the sailors, who
held firmly to the gunwales.
“What time is it, sir?” asked Old John.
“Exactly half-past six,” replied General Matajente.
“Then the tide has turned and is on the ebb. Shall I let her go, sir?”
“Yes, if all is in readiness.”
“In a moment, sir, as soon as I attach this,” and he held up a
percussion cap; “and this,” and he displayed a small shoulder of lamb.
Strange combination! thought the boys as they saw these last articles
needed to complete the engine of death that was about to be set sailing
under the most alluring flag of peace—agriculture; and they watched
intently as the gaunt seaman strode through the surf to the side of the
lighter, then climbed on board.
The morning was misty, but at such a short distance from shore he was
easily discernible, bending over and moving his hands and arms. He was
not engaged in this for more than two minutes, then he dropped over the
side, and called out, “Push her off, men!”
Old John waded ashore, and the lighter, loaded with explosives and
disguised with market gardeners’ truck, with the choice from butchers’
stalls, with delicacies from the fruiterers; yes, even with a few
flowers, which were strewn carelessly on top, as if placed there by some
one who had given them as a memento to the owner of the cargo—this
engine of death drifted slowly into the mist, out toward the sea, borne
by the ebb tide.
The artillery captain spoke for a moment with General Matajente, then
turned to the boys and bade them good-by, saying that he must go to the
castles.
“But first, won’t you please tell us what you did when you went on the
lighter while the men were holding her?” asked Harvey. “We saw what was
done on shore, but cannot understand what followed.”
“Certainly, my lad. You noticed that I carried a percussion cap and a
shoulder of lamb?”
“Yes.”
“I placed the meat on the arm of the machine to which the spring is made
fast, and the percussion cap upon an open keg of powder, beneath the
other arm. Do you understand?”
[Illustration: “The engine of death drifted slowly into the mist.”]
“Yes, I think so. When the piece of lamb is lifted the spring will fly
up, the opposite arm will descend, explode the cap, and——”
“Exactly,” the captain said.
“But could not a person see all this arrangement and suspect something?”
asked Louis. “You left quite a space there.”
“That is all filled in, and I put the most tempting game and fruit right
above the powder.”
“Then,” said Carl, slowly, “you expect the boat will drift far out in
the bay; will be sighted by one of the ships on blockade; that an
attempt will be made to take the stuff on board, and all hands will be
blown to kingdom come?”
“That is what I hope, my lad.”
“It’s horrible!” said Harvey.
Old John laughed in a peculiar manner and walked away.
As the boys were going slowly up the beach, Carl said:—
“Did you notice the change in Old John? I believe he’s insane.”
“So do I,” said Louis.
“And I,” echoed Harvey. “The old whaler we once knew on San Lorenzo
couldn’t have planned such a trick.”
They had not gone far before they were joined by General Matajente. He
walked on in silence until they reached the La Punta road, then they
heard him mutter:—
“I don’t like it one bit, boys; I don’t like it one bit.”
“Don’t like what, general?”
“That business down on the beach.”
“Why then did you permit it, sir?”
“Orders, my boy, orders. It was not the old boatswain who suggested the
plan to a naval officer, but a captain in the artillery arm who went to
headquarters. John Longmore told the people in the palace at Lima of his
plan, and I was sent down here to oversee the operations.”
“Then you do not approve of what has been done?”
“Orders, my boy, orders,” was his only reply.