The station of Santa Marta was so small that its only permanent staff
was the station-master and a boy, the former being also signalman. Will
had seen him several times, and had once before visited the place in his
hydroplane, so that the man was not at all surprised when he entered his
room.
"Good-morning, senor," said Will, knowing that, however urgent his
mission was, the Spaniard would not pardon a neglect of the customary
civilities.
"Good-morning, senor," returned the man. "I have easy work to-day. All
traffic is suspended. It would give me great pleasure to be permitted
to enjoy a ride in your wonderful vessel."
"I am afraid your information is imperfect, senor. General Carabano has
seized railhead, and is coming before long with a train full of soldiers
to make an attack on Bolivar. I have come to warn the Jefe. Will you
send a wire at once giving him information?"
"This is surprising, senor. I had word from Bolivar that all traffic
was suspended, but no explanation. When will General Carabano arrive?"
"Really, senor, there is no time for particulars. He is coming now; he
is on the way; he may be here at any minute; and he intends to seize the
station and flay you alive if you don't join him."
This had the intended effect of overcoming the Spaniard's habitual
sluggishness. He quickly flashed a message to Bolivar, giving Will's
name (ludicrously misspelt) as his informant. In a few minutes he
received an answer, saying that the message was received, and bidding
him secure what cash and valuables he had and leave the station.
Meanwhile his wife, to whom he had explained the situation, got a few
things together, dressed her child, and hurried down to the hydroplane,
Will having offered to give them all a passage to the city. It occurred
to him that the General would be delayed if the train could be switched
into a siding adjoining the station. While the Spaniard was engaged at
the telegraph instrument, Will ran on to the line, rushed to the
hand-switch, pulled it over, and locked it. Just as he was mounting the
platform again, he saw the smoke of the engine about two miles down the
line.
"There is no time to be lost, senor," he said, running into the
station-master's room. "The train will be here in four minutes or less.
There'll be a smash if it runs into the siding at speed, but the
engine-driver may see that the lever points the wrong way, and that will
give us time to get to the river."
The two hurried out, and boarded the hydroplane, which Jose and the
Indian had turned round within the narrow limits of the canal so that
its head pointed towards the Orinoco. Will felt that his little vessel
was much overloaded, especially as the forepart could not be used, or
planing would be impossible. He set off down the canal, and was
half-way to the river before the train arrived. The engine-driver had
slackened speed; evidently the General intended to stop and seize the
station, and probably also to question the station-master. A shout from
the train warned Will that he had been seen, and he smiled to think of
Machado's rage and mortification. "He will wish he hadn't said so much
to Carabano," he thought.
The changing of the points escaped the engine-driver's notice until he
was nearly on the siding. He jammed on the brakes, but was unable to
avoid being switched off the main track; then he had to back out and
alter the points. This took three or four minutes, so that by the time
the train had started again the hydroplane had turned into the Orinoco
and was almost level with it. Will felt all the excitement and
enjoyment of a race, though he was not now specially concerned to get
far ahead of the train: the warning had been given. The train followed
the more direct course, and the smoke of the engine was only
occasionally visible among the trees. Will, overladen as the little
craft was, managed to keep abreast of the train, and so they ran on,
neck and neck, until they were within seven or eight miles of Bolivar.
Then Will heard a muffled explosion. He guessed what it meant, and
found a mile farther on that he was right. One of the arches of a long
culvert had been blown up. There was a six or seven-mile march before
General Carabano.
Will pushed on. As he drew nearer to the city he heard the sound of
firing. Apparently Colonel Orellana had already developed his attack on
the south-east. "He wants to get in first, and turn liberator of the
Republic instead of Carabano," thought Will. In a few minutes he ran
the hydroplane alongside of the landing-stage, unchallenged: clearly no
attack had been expected on this quarter. He left the vessel in charge
of the two natives and hastened along the Calle de Coco with the
station-master to seek the Jefe. He had already been introduced to that
worthy official; indeed, he had thoroughly enjoyed himself at a ball
given by the Jefe during a short stay in the city with Mr. Jackson.
There was a great commotion in the streets. Officers and orderlies were
galloping in all directions, troops hastening from one part of the city
to another, many of the men being civilians armed for the nonce.
Shopkeepers were barricading their windows; peons were throwing
barricades across the principal streets; here and there were the
inevitable loafers, lolling against the walls and smoking as if all was
peaceful and serene. Will hurried along, towards the Alameda, and came
to the Town Hall, the portico of which was thronged. He pushed his way
in, with the station-master, and sent up his name. He waited for some
time; nobody came to fetch him; and in fact, the Jefe was so busily
engaged in arranging for the defence of the city that he had scarcely
heeded the functionary who informed him of Will's presence. It was
doubtful whether his name was properly pronounced. Will was, however,
determined to see him. He felt a certain compunction in leaving his
friends captive at the hacienda while he occupied himself with the
affairs of a State to which he owed nothing. He reflected that if he
had lain low until the rebels had started, he might have found an
opportunity of releasing them--unless perchance General Carabano had
brought them with him. Certainly he owed it to them to make an
immediate application to the Jefe on their behalf.
At last he grew impatient, and asked a passing official whether he could
not go up to the Jefe.
"His Excellency is too much engaged to give audience, senor," was the
reply, and the man passed on without waiting for more.
Suddenly remembrance came to Will.
"Isn't your aunt's uncle engaged in the administration?" he asked the
station-master.
"My mother's cousin, senor. I was not aware that you knew it."
"Then please will you send a message to your mother's cousin and see
whether he cannot bring us to the Jefe," said Will, stifling a
temptation to shake the man.
"But he is a high official, senor; he may be displeased."
"Good heavens! Don't you see it's the chance of your life! You are the
man who sent the warning telegram from Santa Marta. Get your mother's
cousin to take you to the Jefe: he may make you superintendent of the
line."
This vision of glory was sufficiently dazzling to overcome the
station-master's reluctance to trouble his relative. Mentioning the
official's name, he was led along a corridor and ushered into his
presence. A few words explained his errand; then the assistant
secretary said he would certainly introduce him to the Jefe as the man
whose timely warning had been so valuable. Will accompanied them to the
room in which the Jefe sat, among a throng of officers. The assistant
secretary presented his relative, magnifying his promptitude and zeal
for the State. The Jefe embraced him: then, recognizing Will, gave him
a finger.
"The Republic thanks you, senor," he said to the station-master; "the
President will reward you. Your warning gave us time to blow up the
culvert, and if I can hold the rebel Colonel Orellana at bay, I may be
able to vanquish General Carabano himself. By a malign stroke of fate,
scarcely an hour before I received your message, three hundred of my
best troops left by steamer for Caracas, sadly reducing my garrison."
"Did you not receive a telegram from Caracas ordering the dispatch of
these reinforcements, Excellency?" asked Will.
"That is true, senor," replied the Jefe, with a look of surprise.
"The order was fabricated, Excellency," said Will at once. "It was part
of General Carabano's plan, managed with the connivance of one of your
telegraph staff. His name is--let me think: Perugia--no, Pereira."
"Do you say so, senor?" cried the Jefe, springing up in agitation. "How
do you know it?"
"I overheard a conversation between General Carabano and my Company's
telegraphist, who has joined the rebels."
"Caramba! could anything be more unfortunate--or more atrocious! Captain
Guzman, be so good as to have this Pereira instantly arrested. Would
that I could recall the troops! But by this time they are twelve miles
down-stream."
An idea struck Will.
"I have my hydroplane at the quay, Excellency," he said, "and if the
steamer left only an hour ago I can easily overtake it if you will give
me an order recalling the troops. In less than three hours they will be
at your Excellency's disposal."
The Jefe grasped both his hands and shook them warmly.
"I cannot sufficiently thank you, senor. You will do the State a great
service. If the troops return within that time they will be here almost
as soon as General Carabano; it may be our salvation. Do not delay, I
beg you."
"I must have a written order, Excellency."
"Assuredly. Senor Crespo" (addressing the assistant secretary), "kindly
make out the order for my signature at once."
He turned to speak to his officers. The station-master, finding himself
forgotten, stood looking very ill at ease. In a few moments the order
was signed, and Will took his leave. Hurrying through the streets, he
remembered that he was hungry and stopped at a shop to buy bread and
cheese. But putting his hand into his pocket for the money, he
discovered that he was without a single peseta.
"I came away in a hurry," he said to the scowling shopkeeper. "Look,
here is an order signed by the Jefe; my mission is urgent, I will pay
you when I get back, at the offices of the British Asphalt Company of
Guayana."
"Very well, senor," said the man, to whom the name of the Company was
well known: and Will hurried off, carrying enough food to provide
himself and his two companions with a substantial meal.
Five minutes afterwards he sprang on board the hydroplane, cast off, and
set her going at full speed. The current was with him, and the vessel
whizzed along at forty knots, Azito standing with his pole a few feet
from the wind screen, holding in his left hand a hunch of bread from
which he took a bite occasionally. Will employed his left hand in the
same way, steering with the right.
Caracas, he knew, was several hundreds of miles distant from Ciudad
Bolivar by water. The steamer would run with the tide to the mouth of
the river, or strike out by one of its arms to the sea, and then follow
the coast-line. Will knew that he could overtake it long before it
reached the mouth. Indeed, in less than half-an-hour Azito reported
that he saw its smoke in the distance. Five minutes afterwards it was
clearly visible as a spot on the river's broad expanse, and in yet
another five minutes the hydroplane was alongside, Will shouting to the
crowded deck that he had a message of recall from the Jefe. The steamer
slowed down and stopped: Will clambered on board and handed the order to
the officer in command. The vessel was instantly put about; the engines
were forced to their utmost, and huge volumes of black smoke poured from
the funnels, the hydroplane being made fast with a rope and towed.
The steamer was now moving against the current, and it seemed to Will to
go at a snail's pace in comparison with the hydroplane. He became so
bored with the slow progress and the officer's questions about his
vessel that he made up his mind to quit the steamer and hasten back in
advance, to inform the Jefe that the troops were on the way to his
relief. He called to Jose to start the motor and drive the hydroplane
alongside, slipped over by means of a rope, and was soon careering ahead
of the steamer at three times its speed.
When he arrived within a few miles of the city he heard heavy firing,
and as he drew nearer he recognized that the attack was being pressed in
two quarters. Evidently General Carabano had made a very rapid march
from the broken culvert. On reaching the quay, he left Jose and Azito
in charge of the hydroplane as before, and hurried along the deserted
streets to the Town Hall. The Jefe was absent. He had taken the
command against General Carabano on the south-west, while Captain Guzman
was engaged with Colonel Orellana on the south-east. Will hastened on
to find the Jefe. He discovered him a short distance south of the town,
on rising ground, his front protected by the walls of two or three
gardens.
The Jefe was decidedly flurried. He had only three or four hundred men
against a force which he estimated to number nearly eight hundred. Will
wondered how so many had been squeezed into the train. They must have
been packed like sardines. Three guns had been drawn to the spot and
unlimbered behind the walls; but the Jefe, when Will told him that the
steamer was coming down at full speed, explained with much vehemence
that when his artillerymen tried to fire the guns they found that the
powder was mixed with sand. Will was not surprised. Some official had
no doubt made a little fortune out of the contract.
General Carabano's attack had been twice rolled back, but he had now
divided his force into two portions. One threatened the front of the
Jefe's position, from the reverse slope of a hill about a quarter of a
mile distant; the other was working through a small wood to the west,
with the evident intention of taking the position in flank. Indeed,
just after Will arrived, an enfilading fire broke out on the right, and
began to thin the ranks of the men holding the gardens, for the wood
through which the enemy was approaching was at a somewhat higher level,
so that the defenders lost the protection of the wall running at right
angles to their front. The position was already no longer tenable, and
the Jefe, who had no great confidence in his men's steadiness, began to
withdraw them by twenties behind barricades thrown up at the end of two
streets leading towards the middle of the city. The retirement was
hailed with loud shouts by the enemy, who, emboldened by their success,
came pouring out of the wood, pressing the Government troops hard. The
last of these to leave the gardens were closely followed by the main
body of the enemy under General Carabano himself. They came yelling
forward right up to the barricades. Then, however, they were met by a
galling fire from the men already in position; and the General's voice
could be heard ordering them to scatter and take refuge in the gardens
which had lately sheltered their opponents.
It was obvious that the barricades could not be taken by direct assault
without heavy loss, but the General was equal to the difficulty. While
his men kept up a dropping fire from the garden, the flanking force,
under Captain Espejo, skirmishing along under cover of broken country,
gained a point some hundred yards beyond the barricades, and then,
swinging to their right, charged through a cross lane, a movement which
threatened the rear of the defenders and placed them between two fires.
The Jefe saw his peril in time, and withdrew his men hurriedly from the
barricade, occupying houses commanding the intersection of the streets
with the lane.
He had barely completed this operation when he saw his mistake. He was
in a trap. His force was no longer mobile. The enemy, protected by the
barricades which he himself had raised, could prevent him from leaving
the houses, while he, though the buildings to some extent commanded the
barricades, was quite unable to bring to bear upon the enemy a fire
destructive enough to drive them away. General Carabano's intentions
were soon clear. He ordered up Captain Espejo, and left him to hold the
Jefe in check, while preparing himself to detach the rest of his men and
press on by a flank march towards the centre of the city, which was
practically undefended. This division of his force, which would have
been hazardous in face of superior numbers, was perfectly safe in the
unfortunate situation in which the Jefe was placed.
During these exciting moments Will had remained with the Jefe. That
poor harassed man was in great distress of mind at having allowed
himself thus to be cut off.
"How long will the steamer be?" he asked Will anxiously, standing at a
window.
"It can't be far off, Excellency," replied Will. "Shall I go and hurry
up the reinforcements?"
"It is a generous offer, senor, but impossible to carry out. You would
certainly be shot."
"I am not so sure, Excellency. Captain Espejo's men are all beyond the
barricades: the General is now some distance away; if you pour in a hot
fire on the barricades when I slip out I think I might escape."
"You are a stranger, senor. You have no reason to imperil your life in
our unhappy cause."
"But the very existence of my Company depends on your crushing General
Carabano, Excellency. I am willing to take the risk."
"I can say no more, senor. Give me a signal when you reach the door and
I will do my best for you."
Will instantly ran down the stairs. He stood at the door for a moment
to make sure that the street to the right was clear; then, shouting to
the Jefe, he sprinted away. Instantly there was a rattle of musketry
from the windows above. Will ran a few yards up the street, one or two
bullets whizzing perilously close, then darted into an alley on his
right and made at full speed towards the river.
The city seemed to be deserted. All the civilians had barricaded
themselves in their houses. When Will reached the quay, he saw the
smoke of the steamer about a mile away. Springing into the hydroplane,
he started it down-stream, and on meeting the vessel, swung round and
explained in a few hurried sentences to the officer in command what was
happening. The officer, who appeared to be a capable soldier, was alive
to the situation. If General Carabano swooped down on the rear of
Captain Guzman's force, engaged in an unequal struggle with Colonel
Orellana in the south-east of the city, he might easily crush the
defence in that quarter. He could then join hands with Captain Espejo
and sweep the city from end to end. It was obviously the first duty of
the reinforcements to save the garrison on the southeast from being
crushed, and there was no time to be lost.
Accordingly the steamer went on until it reached the quay. The troops
were landed, hastily formed up, and led up the steep hill streets
towards the danger point, from which the sound of continuous firing, now
much louder than when Will came through the city, showed that Captain
Guzman was being hard pressed.
The reinforcements had barely begun the advance when a loud outburst of
firing was heard, apparently not more than a few hundred yards away.
There could be no doubt that General Carabano had crossed the city and
was now falling on the rear of the garrison. Will had had no military
training or experience, but he realized how critical the situation was.
If Captain Guzman's defence was broken, it was doubtful whether, even
with the aid of the reinforcements, the city could be saved. The
officer, Colonel Blanco, ordered his men to double and to refrain from
shouting.
"Go back, senor," he cried to Will: "you will be in danger."
"Not a bit of it," replied Will, in the grip of intense excitement.
He ran along beside the Colonel, wishing that he had had the forethought
to borrow a rifle before he left the Jefe. He did not pause to consider
that he was properly a non-combatant; he was in fact too much excited to
think of his own position at all.
The head of the little column soon came in view of a large plaza, so
full of smoke that it was impossible to see whether the men firing were
friends or foes. But in a few moments Will caught sight of a number of
Indians, wearing green feathers, swarming out of one of the streets
opening on the plaza.
"They are General Carabano's bloodhounds," cried Will.
"Charge!" shouted the Colonel.
With a great shout the men sprang impetuously forward. Behind the
Indians Will saw General Carabano's towering form. He was evidently
taken by surprise at the sudden appearance of a force from an unexpected
quarter; but he called to his men to swing round, and with wild cries,
in no order, Indians and Venezuelans charged straight for the head of
the column. There was no time to fire. The two bodies came together
with a shock, and then began a desperate hand to hand fight in which
bayonets, clubbed rifles, lances, machetes, swords, revolvers, all
played a part.
Will began to wish he had not been so impetuous. He was in the thick of
it now, pressed upon so closely that it was impossible to escape from
the mellay. For some minutes he dodged this way and that, with no other
thought than to avoid the enemy's weapons. He was in some measure
protected by the very denseness of the struggling mass, which was jammed
so tight that there was little room for wielding arms of any kind. But
presently, as the swaying throng thinned a little, a furious llanero
lunged at him with his bayonet. It shaved his shoulder almost by a
hair's-breadth, only missing his chest because the man stumbled over one
of Blanco's soldiers who had just fallen. Will's blood was up. Before
the llanero recovered his footing, Will let drive at him with his right
fist, at the same time gripping his rifle by the barrel with the left.
A vigorous wrench forced it from the man's hand. Will had just time to
change it to his right hand when two yelling Indians sprang at him with
machetes. He parried the stroke of one, catching it on the barrel, and
dropped on his knee, in the nick of time to evade a sweeping blow from
the weapon of the other, which shaved the top clean off his sun-helmet.
"Bravo!" shouted Colonel Blanco, felling the first man with his
revolver. Then Will, springing up as the second Indian stumbled past
him, brought the stock of the rifle down on the man's head, and he fell
like a log.
By this time the rest of Colonel Blanco's column had forced its way into
the plaza and closed round the surging mass of men. Their rifles were
loaded; they fired one volley into the rear ranks of the enemy, careful
not to hit their friends; then they too clubbed their rifles and joined
doughtily in the fray. They were fresh; General Carabano's men were
weary with their forced march and the ensuing struggle. The General's
loud voice could be heard above the din, shouting to his men to reform
their ranks. But he might as well have harangued a flock of sheep. Nor
was there more order in Colonel Blanco's force. There was not so much
method in the fighting as in a Rugby scrimmage.
Numbers began to tell. There were signs of wavering among the enemy.
Colonel Blanco seized the moment to shout to his men to press home the
charge. Some of the Indians were seen making across the plaza, almost
sweeping the General off his feet. He slashed at them as they passed,
commanding them to stand; but his men were falling back; Colonel Blanco
had succeeded in forming a line; and the General, recognizing that the
game was up, ordered the retreat. Will was amazed to see how fast so
big a man could run. Colonel Blanco set off at the head of his men in
pursuit, but the enemy scattered, running like hares into the various
streets on the south side of the plaza. Several were overtaken and cut
down, but the remainder made good their escape and fled from the city
into the open country.
There were still sounds of firing to the southeast, and Colonel Blanco
swung his column round to go to the relief of Captain Guzman. He
reached him at a moment when his men, exhausted with their long
struggle, were giving way before the superior numbers of Colonel
Orellana. The sudden appearance of the reinforcements turned the tide.
Seeing Government troops instead of those of General Carabano, which he
had expected, Colonel Orellana recognized that their plan had in some
way miscarried, and drew off his men in good order. Colonel Blanco
deemed it inadvisable to pursue until he had assured himself of the
relinquishment of the attack on the Jefe. Hurrying back across the
city, he found that Captain Espejo had learnt of his chief's
discomfiture, and was already in full flight. The raid had failed
utterly; and Colonel Blanco, joining hands with the Jefe, declared that
the revolution was snuffed out.