Mr. Fortescue by William Westall (reading books for 5 year olds .TXT) 📖

slippers.

"Look out!" cried Carmen, reining in his horse. "We are not far from the first grip. Don't you see something like a black streak running across the grass? That is it."

"How wide, do you suppose?"

"Eight or ten feet. Don't try to guide your horse. He won't refuse. Let him have his head and take it in his own way. Go first; my horse likes a lead."

Pizarro went to the edge of the rift, stretched out his head as if to measure the distance, and then, springing over as lightly as a deer, landed safely on the other side. The next moment Carmen was with me. After two or three more grips (all of unknown depth, and one smelling strongly of sulphur) had been surmounted in the same way, we came to the stream. The bank was so steep and slippery that the horses had to slide down it on their haunches (after the manner of South American horses). But having got in, we had to get out. This proved no easy task, and it was only after we had floundered in the brook for twenty minutes or more, that Carmen found a place where he thought it might be possible to make our exit. And such a place! We were forced to dismount, climb up almost on our hands and knees, and let the horses scramble after us as they best could.

"That is the last of our difficulties," said Carmen, as we got into our saddles. "In ten minutes we strike the road, and then we shall have a free course for several hours."

"How about the patrols? Do you think we have given them the slip?"

"I do. They don't often come as far as this."

We reached the road at a point where it was level with the fields; and a few miles farther on entered a defile, bounded on the left by a deep ravine, on the right by a rocky height.

And then there occurred a startling phenomenon. As the moon rose above the Silla of Caracas, the entire savanna below us seemed to take fire, streams as of lava began to run up (not down) the sides of the hills, throwing a lurid glare over the sleeping city, and bringing into strong relief the rugged mountains which walled in the plain.

"Good heavens, what is that!" I exclaimed.

"It is the time of drought, and the peons are firing the grass to improve the land," said Carmen. "I wish they had not done it just now, though. However, it is, perhaps, quite as well. If the light makes us more visible to others, it also makes others more visible to us. Hark! What is that? Did you not hear something?"

"I did. The neighing of a horse. Halt! Let us listen."

"The neighing of a horse and something more."

"Men's voices and the rattle of accoutrements. The patrol, after all. What shall we do? To turn back would be fatal. The ravine is too deep to descend. Climbing those rocks is out of the question. There is but one alternative--we must charge right through them."

"How many men does a patrol generally consist of?"

"Sometimes two, sometimes four."

"May it not be a squadron on the march?"

"It may. No matter. We must charge them, all the same. Better die sword in hand than be garroted on the plaza. We have one great advantage. We shall take these fellows by surprise. Let us wait here in the shade, and the moment they round that corner, go at them, full gallop."

The words were scarcely spoken, when two dragoons came in sight, then two more.

"Four!" murmured Carmen. "The odds are not too great. We shall do it. Are you ready? Now!"

The dragoons, surprised by our sudden appearance, pulled up and stood stock-still, as if doubtful whether our intentions were hostile or friendly; and we were at them almost before they had drawn their swords.

As I charged the foremost Spaniard, his horse swerved from the road, and rolled with his rider into the ravine. The second, profiting by his comrade's disaster, gave us the slip and galloped toward Caracas. This left us face to face with the other two, and in little more than as many minutes I had run my man through, and Carmen had hurled his to the ground with a cleft skull.

"I thought we should do it," he said as he sheathed his sword. "But before we ride on let us see who the fellows are, for, 'pon my soul, they have not the looks of a patrol from Caracas."

As he spoke, Carmen dismounted and closely examined the prostrate men's facings.

"_Caramba!_ They belong to the regiment of Irun."

"I remember them. They were in Murillo's _corp d'armee_ at Vittoria."

"I wish they were at Vittoria now. Their headquarters are at La Victoria! Worse luck!"

"Why?"

"Because there may be more of them. You suggested just now the possibility of a squadron. How if we meet a regiment?"

"We should be in rather a bad scrape."

"We are in a bad scrape, _amigo mio_. Unless, I am greatly mistaken the regiment of Irun, or, at any rate, a squadron of it is on the march hitherward. If they started at sunrise and rested during the heat of the day, this is about the time the advance-guard would be here. Having no enemy to fear in these parts, they would naturally break up into small detachments; there has been no rain for weeks, and the dust raised by a large body of horsemen is simply stifling. However, we may as well go forward to certain death as go back to it. Besides, I hate going back in any circumstances. And we have just one chance. We must hurry on and ride for our lives."

"I don't quite see that. We shall meet them all the sooner."

Carmen made some reply which I failed to catch, and as the way was rough and Pizarro required all my attention, I did not repeat the question.

We passed rapidly up the brow, and when we reached more even ground, put our horses to the gallop and went on, up hill and down dale, until Carmen, uttering an exclamation, pulled his horse into a walk.

"I think we can get down here," he said.

We had reached a place where, although the mountain to our right was still precipitous, the ravine seemed narrower and the sides less steep.

"I think we can," repeated Carmen. "At any rate, we must try."

And with that he dismounted, and leading his horse to the brink of the ravine, incontinently disappeared.

"Come on! It will do!" he cried, dragging his horse after him.

I followed with Pizarro, who missing his footing landed on his head. As for myself, I rolled from top to bottom, the descent being much steeper than I had expected.


CHAPTER XII.

BETWEEN TWO FIRES.

The ravine was filled with shrubs and trees, through which we partly forced, partly threaded our way, until we reached a spot where we were invisible from the road.

"Now off with your _cobija_ and throw it over your horse's head," said Carmen. "If they don't hear they won't neigh, and a single neigh might be our ruin."

"You mean to stay here until the troops have gone past?"

"Exactly, I knew there was a good hiding-place hereabout, and that if we reached it before the troops came up we should be safe. If there be any more of them they will pass us in a few minutes. Now, if you will hitch Pizarro to that tree--oh, you have done so already. Good! Well, let us return to the road and watch. We can hide in the grass, or behind the bushes."

We returned accordingly, and choosing a place where we could see without being seen, we lay down and listened, exchanging now and then a whispered remark.

"Hist!" said Carmen, presently, putting his ear to the ground. He had been so long on the war-path and lived so much in the open air, that his senses were almost as acute as those of a wild animal.

"They are coming!"

Soon the hum of voices, the neighing of steeds, and the clang of steel fell on my ear, and peering between the branches I could see a group of shadows moving toward us. Then the shadows, taking form and substance, became six horsemen. They passed within a few feet of our hiding-place. We heard their talk, saw their faces in the moonlight, and Carmen whispered that he could distinguish the facings of their uniforms.

"It is as I feared," he muttered, "the entire regiment of Irun, shifting their quarters to Caracas. We are prisoners here for an hour or two. Well, it is perhaps better to have them behind than before us."

"What will happen when they find the bodies of the two troopers?"

"That is precisely the question I am asking myself. But not having met us they will naturally conclude that we have gone on toward Caracas."

"Unless they are differently informed by the man who escaped us."

"I don't think he would be in any hurry to turn back. He went off at a devil of a pace."

"He might turn back for all that, when he recovered from his scare. He could not help seeing that we were only two, and if he informs the others they will know of a surety that we are hiding in the ravine."

"And then there would be a hunt. However, at the speed they are riding it will take them an hour or more to reach the scene of our skirmish, and then there is coming back. Everything depends on how soon the last of them go by. If we have only a few minutes start they will never overtake us, and once on the other side of Los Teycos we shall be safe both from discovery and pursuit. European cavalry are of no use in a Venezuelan forest; and I don't think these Irun fellows have any blood-hounds."

"Blood-hounds! You surely don't mean to say that the Spaniards use blood-hounds?"

"I mean nothing else. General Griscelli, who holds the chief command in the district of San Felipe, keeps a pack of blood-hounds, which he got from Cuba. But, though a Spanish general, Griscelli is not a Spaniard born. He is either a Corsican or an Italian. I believe he was originally in the French army, and when Dupont surrendered at Baylen he went over to the other side, and accepted a commission from the King of Spain."

"Not a very good record, that."

"And he is not a good man. He outvies even the Spaniards in cruelty. A very able general, though. He has given us a deal of trouble. Down with your head! Here comes some more."

A whole troop this time. They pass in a cloud of dust. After a short interval another detachment sweeps by; then another and another.

"_Gracias a Dios!_ they are putting on more speed. At this rate we shall soon be at liberty. But, _caramba_, how they might have been trapped, Senor Fortescue! A few men on that height hurling down rocks, the defile lined with sharp-shooters, half a hundred of Mejia's _llaneros_ to cut off their retreat, and the regiment of Irun could be destroyed to a man."

"Or taken prisoners."

"I don't think there would be many prisoners," said Carmen, grimly. "These must almost be the