Forward, March by Kirk Munroe (mobi ebook reader .TXT) 📕

For an hour longer the peace of the camp was unbroken. At the end of that time one of the horses snorted more loudly than usual, while the other dropped heavily to the ground as though lying down.

After awhile, if Ridge had been awake, he might have noted a slight rustling in the grass, as though some animal were making a cautious way through it towards the hut. But his slumber was too profound to be easily broken, and no instinct warned him of approaching danger.

The rustling drew closer, until it sounded within a few feet of the unconscious sleeper. Then a black bulk slowly lifted from the ground, and gradually assumed the proportions of a man standing motionless. Of a sudden this figure, whose blurred outlines were barely discernible, made a quick movement, and the hammock of the young Spaniard was cut in twain by the sweeping blow of a machete.

At the same moment a pistol-shot rang out, followed by another and another. There was a smothered yell, a rush of feet, a brief struggle from the place where the horses were tethered, a crash, and directly afterwards Señorita, trembling in every limb, made her way to where her young master stood, as he had leaped from his hammock, dazed, and uncertain what to do.

CHAPTER XVII IN THE HANDS OP SPANISH GUERILLAS

In addition to his alarm, Ridge was overcome with a guilty knowledge of having fallen asleep while on guard. Of course, he felt certain that he had only closed his eyes for a minute; but in that minute something dreadful, for which he was responsible, had happened. He had no idea what it was, but imagined the worst, and was greatly relieved to hear the voice of his prisoner-comrade at his side.

"What on earth--" he began; but just then Señorita dashed up to him in a state of terror, and for the moment demanded his attention. As he soothed her he called loudly for Dionysio, but there was no response.

"I am afraid he has escaped," said the young Spaniard, in rather a faint voice, from the ground, to which he had dropped exhausted by weakness and the intense strain of the past few hours. "He tried to kill me, you know."

"Tried to kill you!" exclaimed Ridge, incredulously. "But wait a moment. We must have a light. This darkness is awful."

Thus saying, he stepped to where a few coals of the camp-fire still smouldered, and began to throw on sticks, which, after a little coaxing, sprang into a bright blaze. By its light he detected two dark forms lying motionless a short distance away, and, with pistol held ready for action, went to discover their nature.

"Navarro must have been dreaming, or else greatly mistaken," he said to himself, "for here is Dionysio fast asleep. Come, wake up!" he cried aloud, at the same time prodding the prostrate form with his toe. As there was no response, he stooped to give the sleeper a vigorous shaking; but almost with the first touch he sprang back in horror. The man lay on his back, but with his head so twisted about that only its rear portion was visible, and Ridge instinctively knew that he was dead. The other motionless form was that of a dead horse, the one recently ridden by Lieutenant Navarro.

Having made this ghastly discovery, Ridge hastily returned to the hut to gain from his companion an explanation of what had happened,

"I could not sleep," said the young Spaniard, in answer to his inquiries, "though I lay still and tried hard to do so, until, by your heavy breathing, I discovered that you were no longer awake."

"I am awfully ashamed of myself," said Ridge.

"It is not to be wondered at," rejoined the other, consolingly. "You had not so much at stake as I, for only my life was threatened. Somehow, I felt certain that the black fiend who thirsted for my blood was also lying awake, and would make an attempt to kill me in my hammock before morning. So, without disturbing you, I moved to the back of the hut and waited for him. It must have been an hour before the horses began to give signs of great uneasiness, and then one of them fell. I suppose he must have killed it."

"Yes," said Ridge, "I reckon he did, since it now lies dead, and bleeding from a stab behind the left fore-shoulder."

"I imagined something of the kind," continued the other, "but still thought it safer for both of us not to disturb you. So I waited, more keenly alert than before, but heard nothing, until I saw him slowly rise and stand beside my hammock. The blow that he dealt it would have cut me in two had I still occupied it; and, with this discovery of his design, I fired three shots, one of which, I think, must have hit him. At any rate, he uttered a great cry and staggered away."

"After that," said Ridge, "he must have tried to escape on my horse, which probably flung him over her head and broke his neck. Didn't you, old girl?"

Had Señorita possessed the power of speech, she would certainly have answered "Yes," for that was exactly what had happened.

"At any rate," continued the young trooper, with a sigh of relief, "I am mighty glad my neglect of duty did not result more seriously. At the same time we are left in an awkward shape for continuing our journey."

"How so?" asked the other. "I am not afraid to walk."

"But I have lost my guide."

"You have lost one and gained another, who will serve you with equal skill, since I know very well the road to Jiguani."

"Of course you must know it," replied Ridge. "How stupid of me not to remember! and, as we can take turns at riding my horse, we shall doubtless get along all right."

There was no more sleep for either of the young soldiers that night; and by earliest dawn, having already eaten their frugal breakfast of roasted yams--an article of diet of which Ridge was becoming heartily tired--they set forth on the road to Jiguani.

As they were already on the southern slope of the mountains and descending into a broad valley, they made such rapid progress, by alternately riding and walking, that the sun had not passed its meridian when they reached the Cauto--the longest river in Cuba. There was formerly a small settlement at the crossing, but it had long since been destroyed, and now only presented the sight, so common in Cuba, of charred ruins devoid of human presence. There was neither bridge nor boat, but Lieutenant Navarro declared the river fordable at this point. Ridge regarded dubiously the chocolate-colored flood already swollen by the first of the summer rains, and wished that they had at least two horses with which to cross it. As they had not, and as nothing was to be gained by delay, he took his companion up behind him, and Señorita, thus doubly burdened, plunged bravely into the stream. Until they were half-way across all went well, the mare cautiously feeling her way, and the water not reaching more than to her belly, Then, without warning, she dropped into a hole so deep that the turbid current closed above the heads of her riders as well as her own.

Reappearing on the surface, the mare struck out for shore, with Ridge swimming beside her, and the young Spaniard, who was a poor swimmer, clinging desperately to her tail. Fortunately the channel into which they had plunged was so narrow that within two minutes they had reached its farther side in safety, and could once more touch bottom. Wading up-stream to a point where the road left the river, they emerged from the water, soaked and dripping, but thankful to have met with no worse harm than a ducking.

As Ridge turned to laugh at the forlorn appearance presented by his companion, the latter uttered an exclamation of dismay, and at the same moment they were surrounded by half a dozen as villainous-looking ruffians as our troopers had yet seen in Cuba. His heart sank within him. Again was he a prisoner with the prospect at least of having his journey seriously delayed. In the confusion of the moment he did not note that those into whose hands he had fallen wore blouses and trousers of blue drilling traversed by narrow, vertical stripes of white, the campaign uniform of the Spanish army in Cuba; but his companion instantly recognized it, and demanded, with a tone of authority, "Who commands here?"

"I do," replied the most ill-favored of the crew, stepping forward.

"You are a guerilla, are you not?"

"A captain of irregular cavalry, señor. And you?"

"I," replied the lieutenant, "am a major of regulars, attached to the staff of General Luis Pando, and on an urgent mission to Jiguani. My horse was killed by insurgents this morning, and I had a narrow escape, leaving one of them dead."

"Which is the reason that two of you rode one horse in crossing the river, and so led me to mistake you for 'mamby?'" [1] said the guerilla captain.

"Very likely, sir, though I can't be accountable for your mistakes. Now you may let your men make a fire by which we can dry ourselves, and you may also have food prepared, for we are hungry."

"But your friend, Major, who is he?" asked the other, scanning Ridge's brown canvas uniform doubtfully.

"None of your business, sir. Let it be sufficient that he is my friend, and do as I bid you without further words."

At this Discipline, even though suspicious, yielded to the voice of Authority, and the guerilla made surly announcement that both fire and food were close at hand.

This proved true; for, on gaining the face of the bluff, our friends found themselves in the presence of some twenty more guerillas, who were gathered about fires, cooking and eating strips of meat from a recently butchered steer. Their horses were picketed close at hand, and beyond them grazed a herd of small wild-looking Cuban cattle. For these this detachment of "beef-riders" had scoured the country-side, and they were now returning with them to Jiguani. A scout from this party, patrolling the river-bank, had notified the captain that strangers were about to cross from the other side, and he had thus been enabled to prepare for their reception.

He was evidently disappointed that they and their belongings could not be seized as prizes of war, and manifested this by the envious glances that he cast at Señorita as well as upon the weapons that Ridge was drying and cleaning. Especially was the young trooper's rifle an object of longing admiration, and, after a critical examination, the captain even went so far as to offer to buy it; but Ridge refused to part with the gun, whereupon the man turned sulky, and declined to hold further intercourse with him.

After a while the whole party again took the road, Lieutenant Navarro riding a spare horse that he had "requisitioned" from the guerilla leader. The latter rode with his guests at the head of the advance-guard, and Ridge noticed that, as two scouts were still in front of them, while others of the guerillas rode on either side, they were completely surrounded, and practically prisoners. He suggested as much to his companion, but the latter only smiled, and said:

"What matters it, so long as we are safely escorted to Jiguani?"

"But I don't want to go there."

"True. I had forgotten. You wish to proceed to Enramada, where I am to join you."

"Yes, on the second day from now."

"With only slight delay we might travel together."

"I have reasons for preferring to go alone."

"You will be in danger from the Cubans."

"Ask your guerilla captain if he thinks so."

The latter said he did not believe there were any insurgents on the Enramada road just then, since their chief, General Garcia, had withdrawn from Bayamo, and was understood to be collecting his entire