Chapter XV: We Catch a Tartar

When I awoke at six o'clock in the morning, most of the officers and men were still sleeping, but the colonel had disappeared. There was nothing to be done beyond feeding and grooming my horse, which I always made a point of doing myself. As to my own breakfast, my haversack was empty, and I think there was hardly a pound of meat to be found among the whole column.

After a short time the men were roused, and just after seven o'clock we saw the colonel come tearing along on horseback, as if pursued by a cavalry division. Evidently he was in a great hurry, and his face was wreathed in smiles.

"Good-morning, gentlemen," he cried. "You will be glad to hear my news: we move in an hour's time. The general has only a scanty stock of provisions, but there is sufficient to provide your men with breakfast.--Crawford, hunt up Lieutenant-Colonel O'Brien, and ask him to come to me at once."

O'Brien was a famous Irishman who had served with San Martin all through the Chilian War. He was a fine fellow, standing six feet six inches high, and well proportioned. Every one loved him for his winning ways, his ready smile, his perfect honesty, and his absolute fearlessness.

"Colonel Miller?" said he, on hearing my message. "Faith, I'll come instantly." And we rode back together.

"You're prompt, O'Brien," exclaimed the colonel, laughing; "Have you had enough of this slow-time business?"

"More than enough, colonel. What are your fellows looking so pleased about?"

"First, the prospect of a breakfast; and then--"

"You've badgered the general into giving you a free hand!"

"Not quite that; but I have permission to push on. I fear it's too late. Canterac is a fine soldier, and will be ready for us now; but I am going to see if he has left any weak places. Would you care to come with me?"

"You're just a jewel, colonel," exclaimed the big Irishman enthusiastically, "and I'm eternally devoted to you. When do we start?"

"Directly after breakfast. Will you take some with me?"

"That will I, colonel, and I'm as charmed with the second invitation as the first. I dined with the general the day we left Mirones, and haven't had a decent meal since."

The colonel laughed, saying, "I'm afraid I can't say much for the quality of our food."

"Never mind the quality, colonel; I think more of quantity just at present."

"Well, that's on a par with the quality."

This did not sound very promising; but we managed to satisfy our hunger, and the men, having eaten their scanty rations, were drawn up ready for the start. At nine o'clock we left the camp, and a rapid march brought us to the village of Macas, which the enemy had just abandoned. Here, to our great delight, we discovered a number of sheep dressed and ready for cooking; so, for once in a way, we enjoyed a really good meal, while cracking many jokes at the Spaniards' expense. Then having rested, we pushed on to the foot of the mountains, where the men bivouacked, being too tired to drag themselves any further.

I was just preparing to off-saddle when the colonel said, "Crawford, if you aren't too tired, you can come with me. I am going just a little way up the mountain."

"Very good, sir," I answered, climbing into the saddle again, but wishing that he had taken it into his head to sleep instead.

"I should like to find out where Canterac is. He is quite clever enough to set a very ugly trap for us."

It was dark now, and the road was difficult; but we rode cautiously, listening for sounds, and keeping our eyes well open. At the end of perhaps half a mile the colonel suddenly stopped, and said in a whisper, "Some one is coming towards us."

The position was very awkward. We were on a narrow road with no hiding-place at hand, and must either retreat rapidly or plump ourselves right into the arms of the strangers. In another minute we had no choice at all, as several dusky figures loomed up before us. Fortunately Colonel Miller favoured the practice of taking the bull by the horns, and levelling his pistol, he cried in a stern voice, "Halt! Who are you?"

Taken by surprise, the men stopped, and we heard one of them say, "No, no; he's no Spaniard. I can tell by his speech."

"Quite right," cried the colonel. "I'm an English officer in the Patriot army. Who are you? Make haste; we don't want to stay here all night."

"We're deserters from General Canterac's army," replied one boldly, "and want to give ourselves up."

"Then you're just right. We will return with you to the camp, or the sentries might shoot you.--Crawford, turn your horse round so that they can pass between us.--Now, my good fellows, march, and I hope for your own sakes that you've given a true account of yourselves."

Thus we journeyed back to the camp, where, beside a good fire, Colonel Miller examined the prisoners. From them we learned that General Canterac had halted in a strong position halfway up the mountain; upon which I could see, by his restlessness, that the colonel was eager to resume the pursuit at once. A glance at his wearied men, however, showed him the folly of such an enterprise.

"No," said he at last; "they couldn't stand it." Which was quite true.

Having given the strangers into the charge of the guard, we unsaddled our horses, wrapped ourselves up, and lay down near the fire. Two seconds later we were fast asleep. At daybreak we were moving again, and I fancy the colonel felt glad he had not attempted to lead his men up the mountains in the darkness of night. The road was simply horrible, and the pass might have been defended by a score of resolute men against an army. Halfway up we received a check. O'Brien, going forward with a handful of men, got in touch with the enemy, who immediately turned about and threatened to overwhelm us by a sudden attack.

Under some leaders we should most certainly have come to grief; but the colonel's cheery, smiling face kept the men at their posts. Drawing them up in a strong position, he awaited the attack calmly.

"If you try to run away, my lads," he said pleasantly, "the Spaniards will make mincemeat of you; so it is wisest to stand firm."

We watched three battalions come down from the height and halt just beyond musket-range.

"I don't believe they're going to attack, after all!" exclaimed O'Brien excitedly.

"Not until we move," answered the colonel, "and then they'll fall on us tooth and nail. I expect they are just gaining time while the main body gets away. It's aggravating, too, because they have the whip hand of us. We aren't strong enough to turn them out."

O'Brien shook his head, saying, "If the provisions would last, we might stand here staring at each other till doomsday."

Darkness found the position unchanged, while numerous watch-fires gleamed fitfully through the gloom.

"I wonder," said the colonel thoughtfully, "if Canterac intends keeping his men there all night? Those fires may be just a blind; he's quite equal to a dodge of that sort."

"Let me find out," said O'Brien.--"Crawford, do you feel in trim for a stroll?"

"Oh, thanks! it's very kind of you to think of me."

"Don't mention it, my dear fellow! It's a weakness of mine to remember my friends.--We'll be back in an hour, colonel.--Take off your sword, Crawford; we must trust to our pistols. Are you ready? Come along, then."

Passing our outposts, we began to climb warily, keeping a keen lookout, and taking care to make no unnecessary noise. It was possible--indeed I thought probable--that we should meet the enemy stealing down to surprise our camp by a night attack. However, we kept steadily on our way, and had nearly reached the outer ring of fires, when, clutching O'Brien by the arm, I dragged him bodily to the ground.

"What's the matter?" he asked quietly.

"A sentry! Listen! He's talking to some one."

We lay quite still, trying to hear what was said; but in this we were disappointed, and presently the two men separated, each walking slowly in opposite directions.

"Now's our chance!" whispered O'Brien; and crawling on hands and knees, we passed quietly between the two. Several yards away was a big fire, and a number of men had gathered round it, where they could easily be seen.

"Then they haven't bolted, after all!" said O'Brien, in surprise.

"It doesn't look like it; but don't let us be too sure. You stay in this hollow while I investigate. You are not a good performer on all-fours."

"No," said he, chuckling, and I was afraid that, in spite of our danger, he would laugh aloud; "this is a sort of circus trick not taught at our school. Can you judge where to find me again?"

"Easily, if they don't let the fires out;" and I crawled further into the camp, and in the direction of a second fire. It looked very comfortable, but no one was there to take advantage of it, and the third and fourth I visited were equally deserted.

The trick was plain enough now. After lighting the fires, the three battalions had marched off, leaving just sufficient men to tend them, and to act as sentries. The sight of a soldier crossing the camp to throw fresh fuel on one of the fires changed suspicion into certainty, and I hastened back to O'Brien with my information.

"That's an old dodge," said he, "but a good one. It almost always pays in this part of the world. Now let us get back and tell the colonel."

Cautiously we crawled back, waited nearly an hour for a favourable chance to dodge the sentries, and then hurried down the pass.

"Thanks," exclaimed the colonel, on hearing our report. "We can afford now to let the men have a couple of hours' sleep; they need it."

"And I daresay some of the officers will lie down, if you press them," laughed O'Brien.--"What do you say, Crawford?"

"Well, the colonel need not press me much," I replied.

"Good boy! I'm pleased you're so willing to do as you're told."

"Well, he has certainly earned a rest," observed Miller. "But we are moving sharp at daybreak, remember."

"There's nothing strange in that," said I sleepily; "the wonder would be if we didn't." At which the colonel and O'Brien laughed heartily.

Next day we marched into the village of Puruchuco, on the eastern side of the mountain, and about six miles distant from the small town of Huamantanga, where the Royalists had halted. Owing to the difficulty of obtaining food, Colonel Miller now sent most of our infantry back to Macas; the Indians were thrown forward to act as a screen in front; while the rest of us bivouacked in some meadows near the village. The next day the colonel and I rode to within five hundred yards of Huamantanga, where we saw the enemy formed up in marching order.

"What restless fellows they are!" I exclaimed laughingly; "they're on the move again!"

"Yes; but this time, unless I'm much mistaken, they are moving backwards. Ride round to the right, warn the Indians to be ready for an attack, and rejoin me at Puruchuco."

I had barely reached the village when the colonel's suspicions were verified. Two thousand of the enemy, all picked men, as we afterwards discovered, rapidly descended the heights, drove the Indians back by sheer strength of numbers, and at last sent them flying pell-mell to seek safety in some of the numerous ravines. We had barely three hundred regular soldiers, many of whom were young boys, and scarcely one had ever smelt powder in a real fight. But Miller was a host in himself, and though the odds were so desperate, I did not despair of victory.

O'Brien, with a picked detachment of infantry, occupied a strong position, and began firing as soon as the assailants came within range. The cavalry and the remainder of the infantry were posted lower down the mountain side.

"Aim low, lads," said the colonel, "and don't waste your ammunition. If they reach you, give them a taste of the steel."

The flight of the Indians left us a great deal exposed, and in danger of being surrounded; but O'Brien had placed his men on a rocky platform, from which they kept one detachment in check. Meanwhile, in our own quarter the fight raged furiously. A large body of Spaniards, slipping past O'Brien, came on again and again. We beat them back, but they gave us no rest. Our men began to fall, and once I saw a shade of anxiety flit across the colonel's face. It was gone in less than a second, but it confirmed my opinion that we could not hold our ground.

For the most part, we contented ourselves with repelling the enemy's attacks; but twice our leader flung himself against their dragoons at the head of his cavalry. We broke them easily, but could not pursue, and the experiment cost us a dozen in killed and wounded.

"This won't do," said he. "They will eat us up.--Crawford, tell O'Brien to retire on us slowly. I intend to retreat.--Captain Prieto, get your men posted in that ravine to the left, and hold it until you are told to withdraw."

I did not hear the captain's reply, being on my way to deliver the colonel's order. I had left my horse behind, but even so, the journey was distinctly unpleasant, as my body was a prominent target for dozens of muskets.

"Warm work, Crawford!" exclaimed O'Brien. "I think the colonel is right. We've caught a tartar this time, and no mistake.--Steady, my lads! we'll make them fight for every yard."

I stayed with the detachment, helping to carry a wounded man. The cheering Spaniards pressed us closely; if they could break through our cordon, Miller's men were doomed. But we returned shot for shot, and stopped their occasional rushes by steel. Every moment of delay gave our brave fellows further down the pass a better chance of escape.

"Well done, O'Brien!" cried the colonel, as we joined him where he stood with a few horsemen.--"Steady, my lads! Captain Prieto holds the pass. Don't lose your heads, and we shall come out all right."

At the ravine the horsemen halted, while the infantry continued the retreat; first O'Brien's men, and afterwards those who had held the pass under Captain Prieto. This was the fiercest part of the struggle. The fighting was at hand-grips now, and I wondered we were not swept away headlong.

"Stand firm, my lads, stand firm; it's your only chance!" sang out Miller cheerfully, and his eyes brightened with the passing minutes, as he knew that the bulk of his command was rapidly getting out of danger.

For half an hour we held the narrow way with sword and pistol, and then a body of Spaniards, who unseen by us had worked round to the right, appeared lower down the pass.

"We must cut our way through, and at once!" cried our leader. "About face, lads, and into them. Ride hard, and strike hard."

We were in a trap now, and the only way to get out was by smashing the door. The colonel led, the troopers followed as best they could, while O'Brien and I remained in the rear to help to check the rush of the enemy's main body. There was a flash of swords, the sound of pistol-shots, an outburst of mocking laughter from the enemy, a "Viva!" from our own men, a vigorous "Hurrah!" from the colonel, and then we were through!

"Go on, my lads!" cried the colonel, dropping to the rear. "Your comrades are at the foot of the mountain.--A narrow shave, O'Brien!"

"Yes! and we aren't clear yet," replied the Irishman, turning in his saddle to glance behind. "There would be more chance for us if we could bring down that tall fellow who is leading."

Whiz! whiz! The bullets were buzzing about our ears now, too close to be comfortable, and but for our horses, we must soon have been killed or captured. At any other time I would not have ridden down that mountain side at a foot pace. It was a succession of steep descents, which made one dizzy to look at; and how my animal managed to keep its feet I could not understand.

"Push on!" cried the colonel suddenly, "and tell Prieto to line the mouth of the pass, in case these fellows chase us all the way."

He and O'Brien had stopped, intending to try the effect of a shot or two, and in another minute I was out of sight. Fifty yards further down the road forked, and fancying the branch to the right looked the easier, I turned into it.

"It may take a little longer to reach the bottom," I thought, "but it's a far less dangerous way. I wonder if the others will think to turn down here."

It often happens that we come to grief when feeling most secure, and it was so with me now. I was riding at a swift gallop, and perhaps with less care than was necessary, when all at once my horse stumbled, failed to recover itself, and fell heavily. Fortunately it lay still, and I was able to drag myself free, feeling dazed and bewildered. Here was a pretty pickle! What could I do? In any case the colonel would reach the bottom first, and the retreat would be continued without me.

Getting up, I tried to help the animal to its feet; but the poor thing either could not or would not move. It was clear that I must leave it, and though hating to do so, I walked a few paces down the narrow path. The fall had shaken me considerably. My head ached, and I had much ado to grope my way along. Three several times in the course of a short distance I stumbled, and the third time fell heavily to the ground, twisting my left foot underneath me. I tried to rise, but could not. Now, what should I do? I dared not call for help, lest the Spaniards should hear me. For two hours I lay thus, wondering what would become of me. The noise of the shouting and firing had now died away; the enemy had probably returned to their stronghold. Not a sound broke the stillness, and the gloom of evening began to envelop the path.

It was now only that I realized fully my frightful danger. Unless some one passed that way by accident, I should die of hunger and exposure! The idea nerved me to a fresh effort. Rising painfully, and steadying myself here and there by the rocks, I limped a short distance, though every step wrung from me a cry of agony. Several times I stopped to rest, and to wipe the sweat from my brow; twice in less than five minutes I was obliged to sit down, and at last the pain in my foot became so excruciating that I could struggle no further.

"It's no good!" I exclaimed; "I must stay here till the morning, at least." And finding a kind of recess in the rocks, I crept in. Then it occurred to me to take off my boot; so opening my knife, I hacked at the leather till I succeeded in getting my foot free.

This, after the first sudden rush of pain, was a great comfort. I felt easier and brighter, and lay down to sleep in a happier frame of mind, intending to make a fresh start as soon as daylight appeared.