The Bandolero Part 33

I felt like folding Francisco Moreno in my friendliest embrace. I could have stayed by his bedside to nurse him, or, what was then more likely, to close his eyelids in death!

I could have canonised him for the words he had spoken. To me they had imparted new life--along with a determination, that soon absorbed every impulse of my soul.

I need not tell what it was. In less time than it would take to declare it, I was scaling the steeps of Ixticihuatl in search of my lost love-- once more, _Mercedes_!

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

THE BANDITS AT BAY.

I went not without a guide, else I might have climbed Ixticihuatl in vain.

The stage-driver still acted in this capacity. By good fortune he had made the ascent before--on some speculative expedition during a recess, when the ribbons were out of his hands; and he knew of a second "robbers' nest" still higher up than that chosen as the scene of the nuptials.

It was a lone log hut, the residence of a reputed charcoal burner; but the situation was too high to be convenient for charcoal burning; and, in Sam Brown's opinion, the "carb.o.n.e.ro" was in reality a _bandolero_.

There was just a chance we might find Carrasco at this hut; if not, somewhere else among the mountains.

How different were the feelings with which I now prosecuted the search.

No longer indifferent about the escape of the robbers, I was determined on tracking them up, if I should have to traverse every defile in the Cordillera, or climb to the summit of Popocatepec!

Like a second Ordaz, I could have plunged into its fiery crater to rescue the captive, who but a short hour before might have leaped into it, without my stretching forth a hand to restrain her!

It was all changed now. The wound, that had been bleeding for six long months, had become suddenly cicatrised. A load seemed lifted from my heart.

I felt light and lithe as I sprang up the acclivity. No Alpine climber could have equalled me in energy: for never went one with such a purpose to stimulate his strength. It were a trite triumph to scale the summit of the Matterhorn, compared with that of rescuing Mercedes Villa-Senor!

The path was not only difficult, but perilous. It would have been so in the day. At night both the danger and difficulty were doubled. It was all up hill--steep as the side of a cairn, and with footing not much surer. The surface was corrugated with lava runs, that had been liquid some centuries before--now congealed into scoriae that resembled the slag cast forth from a furnace.

It was not treeless; but spa.r.s.ely covered with cactus, gra.s.s-like tufts of _zamia_, and stunted fir-trees. Here and there were patches bare and coal-black--as if the lava had but recently cooled, after being vomited forth from the _volcan_ above.

Two things greatly delayed us: the darkness, and the necessity of making a noiseless advance. The slightest sound--a word spoken aloud--might frustrate the purpose of our pursuit.

I had given strict orders for no one to speak--even in whispers. In these alone the guide conversed, as he gave his directions. We knew that our voices would be carried upward to the ears of the brigands, while there was not much likelihood of our hearing theirs.

That they were above us we had little doubt; though we neither heard nor saw them. We were a.s.sured by the nature of the ground. The path carried us along the combing of a ridge--on either side flanked by a stupendous precipice. It was but the continuation of the twin cliffs that hemmed in the hacienda below. We saw no side track, that the robbers could have taken. We were certain we had them before us.

Our search promised fair for success. The robbers could have no suspicion that they were being followed--least of all by a score of American riflemen. The only enemy they might deem near had been left helpless below.

Silently we toiled on, stepping as lightly as possible over the loose lava.

At intervals we stopped to listen. We fancied we could hear footsteps and the murmuring of men. We were not sure about either. The torrent tearing along the bottom of the "barranca" sent its "sough" into our ears--filling them to the exclusion of almost every other sound.

Still the ravishers could not be far ahead of us. Not suspecting pursuit, they would have no motive for moving in a hurry; though Carrasco might have one--Mercedes!

The horrid thought chilled the blood within my veins, causing me to stride on with nervous impatience.

Though the place we were making for was scarce a mile from that we had left, nearly two hours elapsed before we came in sight of it.

We did so at length.

What we saw was a rude parallelopipedon projected in dark silhouette against the moonlit sky. It was a cabin constructed of hewn tree trunks; very similar to that of the "States," only with a flat terraced roof instead of the slanting cover of "clap-boards."

It stood upon the very edge of the abyss, its back being flush with the escarpment of the cliff! Only one aperture appeared on the side towards us--a narrow doorway, with a door upon it; which, as we came within sight, appeared to be shut.

Presently it was opened from the inside--letting out a stream of light that scattered over the cleared track in front. On this we could distinguish the figures of several men, hitherto unseen under the shadow of the walls. The logs were in juxta-position, as if carefully "c.h.i.n.ked" to keep out the cold: for the dwelling was situated on the extreme limits of the _tierra fria_.

While the door remained open we could see a number of men moving inside, and in their midst the loosely dressed form of a woman. A white scarf floated among the darker drapery of cloaks and _jaquetas_.

The robbers appeared to have just arrived. We knew they could not have been there long. Those inside the hut were hurrying to and fro--some carrying torches that appeared recently ignited.

The party without had commenced kindling a fire, that soon blazed up, throwing its red glare athwart the grey pine-trees; a grove of which growing near the edge of the cliff flung its sable shadow over the dwelling.

The bivouackers were the inferior men of the band; for whom there was no accommodation inside.

We could bear voices, both inside and out; but the harsh hissing of the cascade, both above and below, hindered us from making anything of what was said.

We needed no words to give us an explanation of what we saw. It was intelligible without this. We had tracked the bandits to their den.

They were in it--their victims along with them!

For the first time since starting on the uphill pursuit, we felt puzzled as to how we should act. My own impulses prompted me to spring forward, and bring the affair to an instant termination.

As far as regarded victory or defeat, I had no fear about the issue.

Although Carrasco's party and ours were nearly equal in numbers, I knew that in real strength--as in courage and equipment--we were as two to their one.

But even reversing the order, my men would not have s.h.i.+ed from the contest; not if the enemy had been ten to our one.

For myself--with the motive I had, to move, and madden me,--odds never entered my thoughts.

As it was, we simply considered ourselves in the presence of _vermin_, that we could crush beneath the heels of our boots.

With such feeling of contempt for our antagonists, the impulse was to set upon them at once. My men only waited for the word.

I was prevented from giving it by a reflection. In destroying the vermin the game might be injured along with it? Mercedes and her sister--I thought only of Mercedes--might be wounded, perhaps killed in the conflict?

This fear was sufficient to restrain us. My comrades intuitively shared it with me; and I had no difficulty in keeping them in check.

For some time we stayed, crouching behind the trees, where we had first come within sight of the cabin.

Who could say what was best to be done? This was the inquiry that pa.s.sed mechanically among us.

The sergeant had conceived an idea. He was an old veteran of the Texan wars--had served in the campaigns of Houston--and obtained a thorough knowledge of the Mexican character.

"Best way, capten," said he, whispering close to my ear, "would be to besiege 'em, and make 'em come to tarms."