At the Point of the Sword Part 15

Just inside the entrance Jose and the traitorous Indian stood over the windla.s.s, by means of which the rope was worked, and as I ran to their side, one of the Spanish soldiers uttered a cry of alarm. Instantly all was tumult and confusion. Shots were fired at random, men shouted wildly, "We are betrayed!" while, above all, Jose's voice rang out high and clear, "Surrender! you are my prisoners."

With a rush the Spaniards sprang at us, fighting with the fury of wild animals, while we had to guard not only ourselves but the rope up which our men were swarming. If that were cut or loosened, our opponents would hold us at their mercy. We fought against long odds, but for a time held our own, though once I was stricken almost to my knees, and felt the graze of a sharp blade across my cheeks.

Fortunately help came soon, or it would have gone badly with us. With a wild shout a burly trooper sprang into the fray, and another soon joined him. A third and a fourth followed quickly, and the issue was placed beyond doubt.

Now, although our Indians made splendid soldiers, they hated the Spaniards so much that it was difficult to restrain their pa.s.sions.

Some excuse may be found for them in the long years of misery and oppression they had endured; but, of course, Jose set his face sternly against cruelties.

Thus it was in our enemies' own interest that I raised my voice, crying, "Surrender, and we will spare your lives! You cannot escape!"

And Jose echoed my appeal. He, too, dreaded the slaughter that must ensue if our Indians got out of hand. Perhaps the Spaniards guessed our motive; at least they must have seen the futility of continuing the contest. One by one they flung their weapons sullenly to the ground, and yielded themselves prisoners.

"Torches!" cried Jose quickly, "and let us examine our capture. Where is Colonel La Hera?"

No one spoke, but several Indians plucked blazing brands from the fire and brought them to us. By their light we saw one man lying dead near the windla.s.s, and three wounded. Six others, disarmed, stood round, for the most part black-browed and scowling.

Jose repeated his question. "Where is Colonel La Hera?" he asked.

"Gone to get reinforcements to drive you into the sea," answered a calm voice.

"Then he is not in this cave?" asked Jose bluntly, but with a certain ring of admiration in his tone.

Now all this time I had been taking particular notice of this Spaniard.

His uniform showed him to be a major, though he was quite young. His face was frank and open; he had dark, expressive eyes, and a pleasant, musical voice, which somehow seemed familiar to me. Where had I met this man before? In a moment or two he himself supplied the answer.

"Who is in command here?" asked Jose.

"I have the honour, and, as it seems, the misfortune also, of commanding these brave fellows. I am Major Santiago Mariano, in the service of His Spanish Majesty, whom may G.o.d preserve!"

"I wish him no harm," replied Jose; "only for the future he must not reckon Peru among his dominions. Now, how am I to know that La Hera is not here?"

"Ask the man who betrayed us," said the major scornfully; and on questioning the Indian, it appeared he had mistaken Santiago for the famous colonel.

"Well," muttered Jose, "it's a disappointment; but it can't be helped.

What are we to do with the wounded? They can't go down the rope."

"Let me stay with them," I suggested, "and you can send a doctor back."

"Meanwhile," interrupted the major, "I have some little skill in surgery, and, with your permission, I will remain also. You need not fear that I shall run away. I will give my parole to come to Moquegua.

After that, matters must shape their own course."

"Very well," exclaimed Jose; "the plan has its advantages. I'll hurry along the first doctor I come across, Jack. But you are hurt!"

"It's only a scratch; nothing serious at all."

Jose sent half a dozen of his men down the rope; then the dead Spaniard was lowered, the prisoners followed, and Jose himself descended with the remainder of the troopers.

"Haul up the rope, Jack," he cried in farewell, "and make sure of your visitors before dropping it again."

CHAPTER IX.

A GLEAM OF HOPE.

As soon as the party had disappeared, I turned to the major and said with a smile,--

"Now, my dear Santiago, let us attend to the needs of these poor fellows."

I was now standing full in the firelight, and he glanced at my face with a puzzled expression. Then a half gleam of recognition shone in his eyes, and he exclaimed doubtfully--

"Surely you can't be the boy Crawford who vanished so mysteriously from the fort?"

"I am, though!" said I, laughing at his amazement. "But we shall have time for a talk presently; let us do what we can for these poor fellows first. Is there any water in the cave?"

"Yes; there is a spring at the far end. I will fetch some. Put some more wood on the fire; it smokes if allowed to go down."

Of the three wounded men only one was seriously hurt, and he, I feared, was beyond the aid of the most skilled surgeon. However, we did our best for all the sufferers, gave them water to drink, arranged them comfortably on beds of straw, and bathed and bandaged their wounds.

Then I washed the cut in my cheek, and Santiago smeared it with a native ointment, which he said possessed wonderful healing properties.

"Now," said he, "I judge you are ready for late supper or early breakfast, whichever you may prefer to call it. The provisions are homely, and I am an indifferent cook, but I can at least give you enough to eat. Those brigands of yours have stored sufficient food here for an army."

Carrying a torch, I accompanied him round the cavern, gazing in wonder at the piles of Indian corn, the heaps of potatoes, and the strings of charqui, the last suspended from the walls.

"Come," said I, "there is no need to starve in the midst of plenty.

What shall we have? Roast potatoes and jerked beef? The potatoes will require the least attention."

"And they are not bad if you are downright hungry, as I was when we crept in here after the affair at Mirabe. There's a smart soldier leading your men, Crawford."

"Yes; he is an Englishman named Miller, and a very fine fellow. But how come you to be here?"

"We'll talk over these things presently. Meanwhile, let us cook the potatoes. Bring another handful; I daresay two of the men will be able to eat a little breakfast."

"If it is breakfast!"

"It must be for us, because we had our supper before you paid us so unceremonious a visit. Of course we were betrayed."

"Well, as to that," I replied, "you must ask the colonel; I only acted under orders."

"Just so. Well, I am very pleased to see you, though I dislike the way in which you introduced yourself. Cut this piece of beef up finely while I fetch some salt."

"Have you any?" I asked, in some surprise.

"Oh yes. Your amiable brigands know how to stock a larder."

Two of the wounded men were able to eat, and they were very grateful for the food we took them. Then we returned to the fire, piled up some sacks to serve as seats, and began our meal.

It was all most strange to me and very delightful; it might have been a chapter lifted bodily from one of my favourite story-books. There seemed to be a piratical flavour about the whole business.