Beneath the Walls
Tom Copstone leading, the party of three swiftly made their way through
the woodland. Their mark was the south-western angle of the fort; that
was the quarter, said Copstone, whence it might be most safely
reconnoitred. The ground rose gradually as they proceeded, and after
walking for what must have been several miles they came upon a large
open space which had evidently been cleared by fire.
"'Tis the black cayman on the hill above the fort," whispered Turnpenny
to Dennis. "You mind, sir?"
"Ay, the landmark of which you made mention."
Skirting the upper side of the clearing for a few hundred yards, being
careful to remain slightly within the edge of the forest, they arrived
at a spot where, while themselves concealed, they had an uninterrupted
view of the country before them. There was a thin belt of woodland
beyond the clearing, but the hill then dipped somewhat steeply, and
through this dip they saw the fort which held so many bitter memories
for the sailors, and the sea stretching out beneath it, a vast
shimmering plain.
"'Tis bigger than I deemed likely," said Dennis, "the garrison being
but fifty, if I remember right."
"True, sir," said Copstone, "there be but fifty Spaniards, but there be
Indians and maroons within the walls as well, the slaves and
pearl-fishers to wit. Aforetime, as I have heard tell, the fishers
lived in huts around; but about six year ago a French vessel bore
suddenly down upon the place. The Spaniards, some twenty or thirty
then, had no warning, and the Frenchmen had an easy job to carry off
all the treasure that the captain had stored up, and in the tumult a
great part of the fishers made off and were never seen more.
Thereafter the Governor of Cartagena gave command that the fort should
be strengthened and the workers lodged within: you can see the huts
ranged along inside by the wall."
"'Twas shutting the door after the steed was stolen," said Dennis, with
a smile. "Now let me print the lines of the settlement upon my memory."
The fort was a rough square in shape, with a round tower at each
corner. In the centre of the enclosure was a long low house, with a
veranda, which Copstone explained was the Commandant's new house, but
lately finished. Close by was a smaller house, occupied by the captain
of the garrison, and beyond this a row of still smaller buildings,
devoted to the Spanish troops. From their elevated position they could
see that on the eastern side the fort was bounded by a stream which
appeared to wash the wall; but Copstone said that between the wall and
the stream was a level walk, about twelve feet wide, where the officers
were accustomed to promenade in the cool of the evening. The one gate
of the fort was cut in the eastern wall, and it led immediately to a
narrow pier running into the river, where the vessels were loaded and
unloaded. Between the pier and the mouth of the stream a small
two-masted bark now lay at anchor; there was safe harbourage, and this
vessel probably awaited its cargo of pearls to be conveyed to
Cartagena, having brought provisions thence.
The northern wall, Copstone said, was built on a rocky cliff about
thirty feet high, washed at high tide by the sea, which swept round the
north-eastern angle, and formed, with a series of broken rocks and
boulders, an effective defence to a great part of the western wall.
The southern face of the fort was hidden from the spectators by the
intervening trees, but between it and this belt of woodland was an open
space some two hundred and fifty yards wide, cleared with the object of
depriving possible assailants of cover. About a mile to the right was
the scene of the pearl-fishing, and the fishers were at that moment to
be seen at work, diving from canoes, in each of which, said Copstone,
were two Spaniards fully armed.
"And where be our dear comrades, Torn?" asked Turnpenny. "In my time
they were lodged in underground dungeons hewn out of the rock beneath
the south-east tower yonder."
"And there they be still, poor souls," said Copstone. "Ah! many's the
hour I've spent in the selfsame dungeons, groaning with the pain of the
stripes made by their whips on my bare back."
"And 'twas thence 'ee fled, Tom? I marvel how 'ee broke out o' that
strong-fast place."
"Nay, never a soul has broken out of they dungeons. It was in this
wise with me. One day a fearsome storm blew up without a minute's
warning. The harbour yonder, that is wont to be safe, was a seething
whirlpool then, and a bark that lay beside the pier, laden with a
treasure of pearls in readiness for the voyage, was dashed hither and
thither by the fury of the waves until she was like to be battered into
splinters. There was a cry for all hands to save her, and we were
driven out of the gate to do what we could. The sky was black as
pitch, though 'twas an hour or two from sunset; and in the midst of
that coil, covered by the darkness, I dropped down over the embankment
wall, clinging on with my hands, and so worked myself along till I came
to the extremity of the walk, fearing every moment lest a wave should
come and sweep me away. But by the mercy of God I came safe to the end
of the walk, where the round tower juts out--you mind, Haymoss?--its
foundations being struck into jagged rocks, with many a cleft in
between. There I refuged myself till the night came, beat upon by the
waves till the breath was well-nigh battered out of my body. But
there, a drenched mortal, I clung until the tempest fell to a calm, and
in the darkness I got me away to the woods."
"My heart! 'twas a deed of daring and peril," said Turnpenny. "But
list! What be adoing down yonder?"
The silence below was suddenly broken by the ringing sound of picks.
Men were apparently at work on the face of the fort nearest the
observers. The labourers were out of sight, and Copstone confessed
himself unable to guess what their task might be. The fort seemed
complete; for a month before Copstone's escape the work had indeed been
hurried on in response to urgent orders from Cartagena, where the
Governor desired more men to assist in his own defences. His commands
resulted in the prisoners being treated with increased brutality, and
Copstone said that it was a stock joke with the Spanish garrison that
by the time they had done with the captives at Porto Aguila there would
be little work left in them.
For an hour or more the three men stood scanning the fort and its
surroundings, until Dennis felt that every detail was firmly graven
upon his mind. Then, as they had a long journey back to the boat, and
it was desirable that they should reach their companions before the
fall of night, they set off to return to the creek. Copstone knew it
well; under his guidance the others took a short cut through the
forest, that saved them, he said, more than a mile, and the short
tropical twilight had only just begun when they arrived at the canoe.
The maroons had not been disturbed during their absence. One of the
Spaniards, who recognized the creek, had tried to persuade the natives
to set them at liberty, promising them a rich reward. But they had no
faith in him or any of his race, and their answer was to make his bonds
more secure.
Knowing that they were several leagues from the fort, with a long
wooded hill between them, the sailors agreed that it would be safe to
kindle a fire on shore, beside which they might camp for the night
without molestation by insects. But they had little sleep. The three
sat long over the fire, Copstone relating incidents in his prison life
that made the blood of his hearers boil with rage and indignation.
With the good food given him from the stock they had brought, and the
companionship of his countrymen, he had already become a very different
being from the famished solitary creature they had met in the forest;
and when, fired with passionate hatred of the Spanish oppressors and
with pity for their hapless prisoners, Dennis and Turnpenny vowed that
they would go through with their enterprise, no matter at what cost,
Copstone declared himself heart and soul with them, and only longed for
the moment of action to come.
But it was not enough to be full of zeal. The greatest courage and
determination would not suffice alone to achieve their object.
"We are but ten against fifty," said Dennis, "and one of the ten a fat
negro whom the sight of a bare blade would cause to shake like a jelly."
"Leave him out, sir," said Turnpenny. "He would squeal like a stuck
pig if his finger were pinched."
"There are but nine of us, then, and what can nine do against fifty?"
"If all the nine were men of Devon like Tom Copstone and me," said
Turnpenny, "we would face fifty don Spaniards and beat 'em too. But
you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, as the saying is, and
you can't turn a negro or maroon into a true fighting man that will
never say die. Men of their sort cannot play a losing game, though
they be full of courage if things go well with them."
"I fear me even nine men of Devon could not fight a pitched battle
against five times their number, whether Spaniards or other. But 'tis
not my purpose to approach the walls with a trumpet and deliver a
defiance. Our only chance is by surprising the fort in the darkness,
and so taking them at a disadvantage. How stands it then, Amos?"
"Why, sir, it stands clean topsy-versy, which is to say it is by no
means possible. The walls, as you did yourself see, be too high to
leap over, and the gate be shut and bolted and barricadoed by night."
"But is it watched?"
"That I know not. Do 'ee know, Tom?"
"Nay; afore dark all the prisoners be thrust into the dungeons, and
kept fast in ward until morning light."
"And do they set a guard over the dungeons?"
"Not as I know, sir. What would be the good? The doors be strong and
clamped with iron; the guard house be just above; and we was all so
worn with toil and so sick at heart that nary one of us ever had the
spirit to attempt a sally. When they had us fast in the dungeons,
there they might leave us, with never a fear but we would be safe
bound."
"Methinks that same security would forbid them to keep a watch
seawards. The sea washes the north side of the fort, you said?"
"Ay, sir, and even at high tide there is no draught for a vessel of
more than twenty tons burden, so they need fear no attack thence.
True, they might keep a watch on the harbour when a vessel lies there;
but 'tis years since any enemy has appeared, and with the dons 'tis out
of sight, out of mind, I trow."
"Well, does not that favour us? Grant we cannot scale the walls, nor
force the gate, we may still approach the fort from the sea by night,
without risk of being discovered, and that is the very thing that we
must do. This night is too far spent for us to make any attempt in
that quarter. We must possess our souls in patience for yet another
day, and truly that is not amiss, for it will give us leisure to spy
once more upon the fort. Think you 'tis possible to come where we may
view the north side?"
"There is but one way; to make a circuit as we lately did, and go
further through the woods, and creep down at dusk to the rocks, when
the work for the day is over and we are not like to be seen by the
Spaniards who keep ward over the fishers."
"That is what we will do, then. And now, since we know not what the
day may bring forth to try our strength, let us get what sleep we can,
and so fortify ourselves."
But for many hours Dennis lay awake, thinking over the next day's
doings. Up with the dawn, he set the maroons to cut from the trees a
number of light tough poles, and these Copstone and Turnpenny, with
seamen's skill, quickly fashioned into a rough but serviceable ladder.
It was made to taper from bottom to top in three sections, the first
seven feet long, the second five feet, and the last, four. The first
and second were lashed together with some spare rope brought in the
canoe, but the supply gave out when this was done, and Dennis was at a
loss for material to fasten the second and third sections together.
The headman of the maroons speedily made good the deficiency. Going
into the forest, he soon returned with long pliable tendrils of a
creeper called bejuca that grew plentifully among the undergrowth, and
these, when cut into short lengths, formed lashings as strong as could
be desired.
The greater part of the morning was spent in constructing and testing
the ladder. After the midday meal Dennis and the sailors again made
their way through the forest to their former place of espial, waited
until they saw the canoes return with the pearl fishers, and then, in
the late afternoon, crept down the hillside westward of the fort until
they came to the rocks on the shore. From their new position they were
able to glance along the northern wall of the fort. The tide was on
the turn, and it was clear from the masses of seaweed and the waterworn
appearance of the rocks on which the wall was built that at high water
the base of the escarpment would be washed by the waves, as Copstone
had said. Having formed a careful mental picture of the place, Dennis
gave the word for return, and they reached their camping ground just
before dark, as on the previous evening.
Arrangements were at once made for their expedition. Turnpenny
estimated that the distance by water from the mouth of the creek to the
fort was about ten miles. It was desirable to start early if the
paddlers were not to be overtired when the serious work of the night
began. Dennis was in some doubt what to do with the prisoners, but
after consultation with the sailors he decided to leave them behind in
the charge of the cook and one of the maroons. He deplored the
necessity of thus diminishing his little party, but it was clearly
impossible to trust the guardianship of the prisoners to Baltizar
alone. That flabby and chicken-hearted negro was desperately afraid of
being left. He feared the prisoners, although they were securely
pinioned; still more he feared the wild beasts of the forest.
Turnpenny "gave him a piece of his mind," as he said, and his language
was none the less forcible because he eked out his scanty vocabulary of
Spanish with racy expressions in his own vernacular. He called
Baltizar a slack-twisted nollypate, a wambling dumbledore, an
ell-and-a-half of moidered dough, mingling with his expletives an
instruction to keep up the fire if he wished to scare the beasts away,
and a warning that the Spaniards, if they were allowed to escape, would
certainly kill him first. And to guard against the danger that the
prisoners might work upon his fears and persuade him to loose their
bonds, the maroon chosen to remain with him was told, in his hearing,
that if he had any conversation with the two men he was instantly to be
knocked on the head. Watching the negro's expression, Dennis felt
pretty sure that he would prove a most zealous jailor.
The night was still young, the moon had not yet risen, when the canoe
floated silently seawards down the creek. The little party of three
white men and five maroons was not hilarious; every man knew that he
had taken his life in his hands. But neither were they down-hearted,
for seven of them had the recollection of a night adventure which had
wonderfully succeeded against great odds; and though the odds this time
were immeasurably in favour of the enemy, and the task was infinitely
more difficult, the very magnitude of what they had set themselves to
do fired them with eagerness and hope.
The sections of the ladder had been unlashed, and were safely bestowed,
with the rope and the tendrils, in the sides of the canoe. In his
ignorance of the coast, Dennis ordered the paddlers to put some
distance out to sea before heading the canoe westward, so as to avoid
any rocks or shoals that might lie in wait for the frail craft. The
wind was north-east, and as there was only the faint illumination of
the stars, the sail was run up during the first part of the voyage.
But when they rounded the headland that lay between the creek and the
fort, Turnpenny took in the sail, lest by some unlucky chance it should
be observed from the shore, and bade the maroons paddle slowly, for
they wished to arrive at the fort when the tide was high, a little
before dawn.
Slowly as they paddled, however, the fort loomed up on the shore a good
hour before they had intended to draw in. None of the party had any
means of telling the time; but Turnpenny, experienced in reading the
heavens on many a silent night on the deep, guessed it pretty
accurately by the horn of the moon just peering above the horizon. To
delay their arrival a little, Dennis ordered the men to rest on their
oars, and for an hour the canoe rocked gently on the swelling tide.
The pause would have been even longer had not Dennis perceived that the
inaction bred a certain nervous restlessness in the maroons--an ill
mood in which to face the coming ordeal.
At last, shortly after four in the morning, the nose of the canoe was
turned towards the fort, and the vessel crept in dead silence towards
the line of white foam that showed where the tide was lapping the wall.
It was still half a musket-shot distant when its progress was arrested
with a suddenness that threw the paddlers heavily forward. Recovering
themselves, they backed water lustily, but without avail; the canoe was
fast on a rock. Instantly three of the men slipped gently overboard to
lighten the vessel, kicking their legs busily to ward off any ground
sharks that might be adventuring in the neighbourhood. In a few
moments the canoe slid off the rock, the men clambered back to their
places, and the paddling was resumed. But it was soon discovered that
the shock had torn a hole in the vessel's side; she was filling fast;
and by the time she came beneath the wall of the fort she was wellnigh
waterlogged. Not a man of the party ventured to speak a word; but from
the glances they gave one another it was clear that they realized what
the accident meant for them. Nothing but complete success could now
save them, for if the attempt on the fort failed, it would certainly be
impossible to escape on this leaking vessel, and they must fall an easy
prey to their enemies.
One after another they quietly left the canoe, carrying the climbing
apparatus, and their calivers and ammunition, which had fortunately
lain on the raised stern of the vessel and had escaped a wetting. They
found themselves on the rocks, in two or three feet of water.
Turnpenny and Copstone gave their weapons into the charge of two of the
maroons while they carefully lashed the two longer sections of the
ladder together. Meanwhile Dennis was scanning the wall above him with
the object of finding a suitable spot against which to plant the
ladder. In spite of Copstone's belief that the fort was not
sentinelled, Dennis had taken the precaution to land a little to the
west of the tower at the angle, thinking that the sentry, if one were
posted there, would probably be taking shelter under the eastern
parapet. But so far as he could see in the dim light the line of the
wall was unbroken.
At the top, however, a battlement slightly overhung it. To Dennis,
gazing up, this battlement seemed terribly far off, and his heart sank
as he felt that the ladder would certainly not be long enough. But it
was possible that the apparent height was deceptive; at any rate the
attempt must be made. Accordingly, Turnpenny and Copstone, as he had
previously arranged with them, planted the ladder beneath the wall
while he mounted. The first steps were easy, but when he came near the
top he was seized with a momentary dizziness and had to pause before he
ventured to take another upward step. He climbed very slowly: he was
now close against the wall, with nothing to cling to, and he maintained
his balance only by pressing forward until he was almost flat against
the smooth surface. He reached the last rung; it was impossible to
ascend another inch; and the top of the wall was still, it appeared, at
least twelve feet above him. Even if the third section of the ladder
was added, the coping would be still utterly beyond his reach.
It was a position in which many a bold fellow might have despaired,
and, for a little, Dennis did feel dismay and a touch of compunction
for having brought the men below into what appeared to be a hopeless
case. But it is such moments as these that prove the grit of a man's
character. Dennis was no weakling; and as he stood and leant against
that wall, shrouded by the night, he set his teeth and vowed that by
hook or crook he would ere long be upon the other side.
He looked up and around, to see if there were any notches or seams by
means of which he could scale the wall. The moon was creeping round
the sky, and now threw a little more light on the scene. Letting his
eye travel slowly over every foot of the surface from left to right, he
suddenly caught sight of what seemed to be a hole in the wall, some
distance to his right, several feet above him, and a yard or so below
the parapet. It flashed upon him that this must be a gun embrasure;
was it possible, he wondered, to make his way in by that? Carefully
descending the ladder, he told the sailors in a whisper what he
proposed; they quickly lashed on the last section, and shifted the
ladder until it stood immediately below the dark patch which at this
distance the embrasure appeared to be. Then Dennis mounted again.
Once more he was disappointed. At the imminent risk of falling
backwards he crept up to the highest point, but even then he found he
could but just touch the lower edge of the hole. He had not sufficient
grip on the smooth sill of it to pull himself up: he could not raise
himself high enough to peep through. He wondered whether Copstone, who
stood nearly a head taller, would have better success; but remembering
the man's privations he thought it scarcely possible that he would have
nerve enough to mount on this frail ladder, which bent dangerously
beneath his weight now that the last section was added, without
becoming dizzy and toppling down. Was there any conceivable manner in
which the ladder could be still further lengthened?
Down he crept again and held another whispered consultation with the
two men. At first neither was able to make a suggestion. They stood
looking at one another in perplexity. Then suddenly Turnpenny,
forgetting himself in his excitement, uttered an exclamation in a tone
which sent a shiver down Dennis's back.
"Hush, man!" said Dennis in a warning whisper. "What is it?"
"Ah, I must talk gentle," said Turnpenny. "Of a sudden I thought of
muscles and sinews, and the power of a strong back. Me and the headman
of the maroons--not so strong as me, to be sure, but yet with mighty
shoulders of his own--me and him betwixt us can raise the ladder aloft,
and hold it firm while you mount, and then without doubt you'll be high
enough to peep through the port-hole and see all that may be seen."
"Art sure you can do it, Amos?" asked Dennis, eagerly.
"Why, sir, look at this!" he returned, bending his arm until the muscle
showed like a globe of iron.
Without more ado, Turnpenny and the maroon hoisted the ladder, and, one
on either side of it, supported it with their shoulders. Then Dennis
climbed on to Copstone's back, thence to the ladder, and began the
ascent. The ladder was more tremulous than ever, and Dennis felt a
flutter at the heart as he came nearer and nearer to the top. But the
stalwarts below did not yield an inch, and Dennis crawled up and up
until at length his head came to the level of the embrasure, and with
one more step he found himself able to rest his arms in it. To his joy
the embrasure was empty: the gun had evidently been withdrawn; and
taking this as a good omen--surely it indicated great security on the
part of the garrison!--he hoisted himself up and wriggled into the
aperture. Then, breathless, with a hurrying pulse, he crouched to
consider his next move.