Mr. Fortescue - William Westall (i read a book .txt) 📗

shout from Gahra, I once more opened my eyes the sun was lower and the heat less intense.

"What is it," asked Carmen, who, like myself, had been half asleep. "I see nothing."

"A cloud of dust that moves--there!" (pointing).

"So it is," shading his eyes and looking again. "Coming this way, too. Behind that cloud is a body of horsemen. Be they friends or enemies--Mejia and his people or loyalist guerillas?"

"That is more than I can say, senor. Mejia, I hope."

"I also. But hope is not certainty, and until we can make sure we had better hedge away toward the north, so as to be nearer the hills in case we have to run for it."

"You think we had better make for the hills in that case?" I asked.

"Decidedly. Mejia is sure to return thither, and Morale's men are much less likely to follow us far in that direction than south or east."

So, still riding leisurely, we diverged a little to the right, keeping the cloud-veiled horsemen to our left. By this measure we should (if they proved to be enemies) prevent them from getting between us and the hills, and thereby cutting off our best line of retreat.

Meanwhile the cloud grew bigger. Before long we could distinguish those whom it had hidden, without, however, being able to decide whether they were friends or foes.

Carmen thought they numbered at least two hundred, and there might be more behind. But who they were he could, as yet, form no idea.

The nearer we approached them the greater became our excitement and surprise. A few minutes and we should either be riding for our lives or surrounded by friends. We looked to the priming of our pistols, tightened our belts and our horses' girths, wiped the sweat and dust from our faces, and, while hoping for the best, prepared for the worst.

"They see us!" exclaimed Carmen. "I cannot quite make them out, though. I fear.... But let us ride quietly on. The secret will soon be revealed."

A dozen horsemen had detached themselves from the main body with the intention, as might appear, of intercepting our retreat in every direction. Four went south, four north, and four moved slowly round to our rear.

"Had we not better push on?" I asked. "This looks very like a hostile demonstration."

"So it does. But we must find out--And there is no hurry. We shall only have the four who are coming this way to deal with, the others are out of the running. All the same, we may as well draw a little farther to the right, so as to give them a longer gallop and get them as far from the main body as may be."

The four were presently near enough to be distinctly seen.

"Enemies! _Vamonos!_" cried Carmen, after he had scanned their faces. "But not too fast. If they think we are afraid and our horses tired they will follow us without waiting for the others, and perhaps give us an opportunity of teaching them better manners. Your horse is the fleetest, senor Fortescue. You had better, perhaps, ride last."

On this hint I acted; and when the four guerillas saw that I was lagging behind they redoubled their efforts to overtake me, but whenever they drew nearer than I liked, I let Pizarro out, thereby keeping their horses, which were none too fresh, continually on the stretch. The others were too far in the rear to cause us concern. We had tested the speed of their horses and knew that we could leave them whenever we liked.

After we had gone thus about a couple of miles Carmen slackened speed so as to let me come up with him and Gahra.

"We have five minutes to spare," he said. "Shall we stop them?"

I nodded assent, whereupon we checked our horses, and wheeling around, looked our pursuers in the face. This brought them up short, and I thought they were going to turn tail, but after a moment's hesitation they lowered their lances and came on albeit at no great speed, receiving as they did so a point-blank volley from our pistols, which emptied one of their saddles. Then we drew our swords and charged, but before we could get to close quarters the three men sheered off to the right and left, leaving their wounded comrade to his fate. It did not suit our purpose to follow them, and we were about to go on, when we noticed that the other guerillas, who a few minutes previously were riding hotly after us, had ceased their pursuit, and were looking round in seeming perplexity. The main body had, moreover, come to a halt, and were closing up and facing the other way. Something had happened. What could it be?

"Another cloud of dust," said Gahra, pointing to the north-west.

So there was, and moving rapidly. Had our attention been less taken up with the guerillas this new portent would not so long have escaped us.

"Mejia! I'll wager ten thousand piasters that behind that cloud are Mejia and his braves," exclaimed Carmen, excitedly. _Hijo de Dios!_ Won't they make mince-meat of the Spaniard? How I wish I were with them! Shall we go back Senor Fortescue?"

"If you think--"

"Think! I am sure. I can see the gleam of their spears through the dust. By all means, let us join them. The Spaniards have too much on their hands just now to heed us. But I must have a spear."

And with that Carmen slipped from his horse and picked up the lance of the fallen guerilla.

"Do you prefer a spear to a sword?" I asked, as we rode on.

"I like both, but in a charge on the llanos I prefer a spear decidedly. Yet I dare say you will do better with the weapon to which you have been most accustomed. If you ward off or evade the first thrust and get to your opponent's left rear you will have him at your mercy. Our _llaneros_ are indifferent swordsmen; but once turn your back and you are doomed. Hurrah! There is Mejia, leading his fellows on. Don't you see him? The tall man on the big horse. Forward, senors! We may be in time for the encounter even yet."


CHAPTER XIV.

CAUGHT.

A smart gallop of a few minutes brought us near enough to see what was going on, though as we had to make a considerable _detour_ in order to avoid the Spaniards, we were just too late for the charge, greatly to Carmen's disappointment.

In numbers the two sides were pretty equal, the strength of each being about a thousand men. Their tactics were rather those of Indian braves than regular troops. The patriots were, however, both better led and better disciplined than their opponents, and fought with a courage and a resolution that on their native plains would have made them formidable foes for the "crackest" of European cavalry.

The encounter took place when we were within a few hundred yards of Mejia's left flank. It was really a charge in line, albeit a very broken line, every man riding as hard as he could and fighting for his own land. All were armed with spears, the longest, as I afterward learned, being wielded by Colombian _gauchos_. These portentous weapons, fully fourteen feet long, were held in both hands, the reins being meanwhile placed on the knees, and the horses guided by voice and spur. The Spaniards seemed terribly afraid of them, as well they might be, for the Colombian spears did dire execution. Few missed their mark, and I saw more than one trooper literally spitted and lifted clean out of his saddle.

Mejia, distinguishable by his tall stature, was in the thick of the fray. After the first shock he threw away his spear, and drawing a long two-handed sword, which he carried at his back, laid about like a _coeur-de-lion_. The combat lasted only a few minutes, and though we were too late to contribute to the victory we were in time to take part in the pursuit.

It was a scene of wild confusion and excitement; the Spaniards galloping off in all directions, singly and in groups, making no attempt to rally, yet when overtaken, fighting to the last, Mejia's men following them with lowered lances and wild cries, managing their fiery little horses with consummate ease, and _making no prisoners_.

"Here is a chance for us; let us charge these fellows!" shouted Carmen, as eight or nine of the enemy rode past us in full retreat; and without pausing for a reply he went off at a gallop, followed by Gahra and myself; for although I had no particular desire to attack men who were flying for their lives and to whom I knew no quarter would be given, it was impossible to hold back when my comrades were rushing into danger. Had the Spaniards been less intent on getting away it would have fared ill with us. As it was, we were all wounded. Gahra got a thrust through the arm, Carmen a gash in the thigh; and as I gave one fellow the point in his throat his spear pierced my hat and cut my head. If some of the patriots had not come to the rescue our lives would have paid the forfeit of our rashness.

The incident was witnessed by Mejia himself, who, when he recognized Carmen, rode forward, greeted us warmly and remarked that we were just in time.

"To be too late," answered Carmen, discontentedly, as he twisted a handkerchief round his wounded thigh.

"Not much; and you have done your share. That was a bold charge you made. And your friends? I don't think I have the pleasure of knowing them."

Carmen introduced us, and told him who I was.

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance, senor," he said, graciously, "and I will give you of my best; but I can offer you only rough fare and plenty of fighting. Will that content you?"

I bowed, and answered that I desired nothing better. The guerilla leader was a man of striking appearance, tall, spare, and long limbed. The contour of his face was Indian; he had the deep-set eyes, square jaws, and lank hair of the abonguil race. But his eyes were blue, his hair was flaxen, and his skin as fair as that of a pure-blooded Teuton. Mejia, as I subsequently heard, was the son of a German father and a mestizma mother, and prouder of his Indian than his European ancestry. It was probably for this reason that he preferred being called Mejia rather than Morgenstern y Mejia, his original appellation. His hereditary hatred of the Spaniards, inflamed by a sense of personal wrong, was his ruling passion. He spared none of the race (being enemies) who fell into his hands. Natives of the country, especially those with Indian blood in their veins, he treated more mercifully--when his men would let him, for they liked killing even more than they liked fighting, and had an unpleasant way of answering a remonstrance from their officers with a thrust from their spears.

Mejia owed his ascendancy over them quite as much to his good fortune in war as to his personal prowess and resolute character.

"If I were to lose a battle they would probably take my life, and I should certainly have to resign my command," he observed, when we were talking the matter over after the pursuit (which, night being near, was soon abandoned); "and a _llanero_ leader must lead--no playing