Chapter XVII: Bringing Back the Silver

WITH the utmost eagerness the men fell to unloading the baggage from the mules, which were then turned out to graze on the rich pastures that grew in these high altitudes. Then, armed with mattocks and spades, a score of lusty seamen followed my father, Jack, and me into the mine, leaving the remainder standing to their arms lest the Spaniards should, by any possibility, follow and attempt to surprise us.

It was a matter of some difficulty to traverse the narrow winding defile, the rocks on either side being worn smooth by the action of the moving sand. The alkali-like dust lay thick on the path, and as we wormed our way, edgewise at times, the cloud of disturbed sand well-nigh choked us.

With us we trailed a long rope, twice the length of the defile, a stout snatch-block, and a long narrow bag made of the strongest canvas, for the use of these articles formed the only practical way of removing the precious metal.

Presently the natural cutting opened up into a vast circular pit, the brink of which seemed more than a thousand feet above us. Even in the subdued daylight, for the sun was not high enough to shine into the pit, we could see the rocks gleaming with the virgin silver.

Lustily we fell to work, cutting and hacking at the mineral, and placing it in the canvas sack. As fast as the latter was filled it was hauled through a defile, emptied, and pulled back to be replenished. This we continued for two hours, till, caked with dust and sweat, we were glad to desist and allow our places to be taken by another relay of seamen.

Long before nightfall we had taken enough silver to more than load our mules, so leaving twenty men to continue the work of mining, we started at daybreak to traverse the mountain pass once more.

This we successfully accomplished, and, having hidden the load, returned with the unladen animals well before dusk.

On the following morning the mules were again laden, and as much of our baggage as could be dispensed with was thrown aside and carefully hidden lest any wandering party of Spaniards or Indians should find the mine.

Then for the fourth time we negotiated the fearsome pass, though, strangely enough, elated by our success and hardened by familiarity with the dangers of the mountains, we pursued our way with fair speed and no little confidence.

At length we came to the end of the defile, and below us swept the vast tree-covered plain. The want of fresh water urged us to reach the banks of a stream we knew of ere night, so, leaving the mules under the care of a party of seamen to follow more leisurely, the rest of us pushed on to find a camping-place for the night.

Eager to leave the arid sands around us, Jack Staynton and I hastened ahead. Just as we gained the first outlying tree--'twas little better than a stunted thorn--we espied what appeared to be a broad series of furrows running athwart our path. As we approached we found that 'twas the hoofprints of many animals still fresh in the dust.

"Let us hasten back, Ralph!" exclaimed Jack. "There's something strange about these marks--horses, it may be, and if so, it means that the Spaniards are nigh."

Swiftly, yet cautiously, we regained our main body, which, fortunately, remained in a shallow depression betwixt the mountains and the forest, though screened from the latter by the ridge of low rocks.

My father looked grave at the news.

"We must await the coming of the mules," said he. "Then, if it comes to the worst, we can make a good stand on yonder ridge. Do you, Coombes, make haste back to the baggage train and bid them come up to us hot foot."

While the mate had gone on his errand, three men, swift of foot, were sent on to explore the ridge, having been given strict orders not to fire their pieces or unnecessarily show themselves unless discovered and attacked by the Spaniards.

Just as the mule train came up with us one of the scouts returned with the news that everything seemed quiet in front. Accordingly, the order was given to continue the march, and three hours before sunset the whole of our little force occupied the crest of the rocks abutting on the forest.

Here we made preparations to spend the night, piling up big stones to form loopholes for the musketeers, and hedges of prickly thorn to keep off a charge of horse. Of water we had barely enough to go round, but in spite of the heat and their thirst the patient mules, tethered in the centre of our fortifications, maintained almost perfect silence.

An hour later we were startled to hear the sound of heavy firing proceeding from the direction of the forest, and presently we espied our Indian bearers streaming in flight towards us. Evidently their terror of the brutal Spaniards was greater than their dread of the smoking mountain.

The fugitives ran with almost incredible swiftness, their feet skimming over the sand, while a hundred paces in the rear floundered some threescore Spanish horsemen. They had, for the most part, discarded their steel plates, and wore the thick but light cotton clothing adapted from the conquered Mexicans. They had slung some musketoons across their backs, and, lance or sword in hand, were hard in pursuit of the Indians. With cries of "San Iago!" they rode eagerly with loose rein.

Now, as luck would have it, the pursued headed almost straight towards our fortalice, keeping slightly to our right. Unperceived by friend or foe, we lay still, with arquebuses at the ready, awaiting the signal to fire a volley.

"Let 'em have it!" shouted my father.

The hiss of the smouldering matches was drowned by the crash of twoscore pieces, and when the smoke had cleared away a fearsome sight met our eyes.

The ground about our right front was littered with dead and wounded men and horses. Of the survivors some of the more dauntless still pressed forward; others, irresolute in the face of new danger, reined in their steeds, cursing in impotent rage, while a few turned tail and rode away from the scene of the ambush.

Although no order had been given to that effect, our men had almost invariably aimed at the riders, and when they fell, their steeds, trained to superb discipline, remained standing by their dead or dying masters, save where, maddened by wounds, the horses followed the fugitives from the field.

There were not sufficient survivors to offer much resistance. Throwing down our discharged weapons, we fell upon them with our swords. One or two fought bravely till pulled from their horses; but those who did not seek safety in flight were soon prisoners in our hands.

"Would we had netted the lot," said my father, gazing towards the rapidly vanishing Spaniards. "They'll make trouble for us ere we see the _Damsel of Lyme_ once more." Then turning to one of the prisoners, evidently an officer of rank, he addressed him in Spanish.

But the man obstinately refused to reply, and though my father appeared to threaten him, not a word would he utter, merely scowling with black rage upon his captor.

Nor were we any more successful with the other prisoners--seven in number. With the utmost resolution they kept silence, although threatened with death should they withhold the required information.

"'Tis not my purpose to do them hurt," said my father in an undertone. "Yet must we find out whether our retreat is threatened."

By this time the fugitive Indians, seeing that their pursuers themselves had been put to flight, began to return. In reply to our inquiries, one of their number, who spoke Spanish fairly well, told us that they had been surprised in the woods by the Spaniards, but had managed to get clear with the loss of seven killed and wounded by the first discharge of the Spaniards' arquebuses.

"Threaten to turn 'em over to the Indians, sir," counselled one of our men, who had himself been a prisoner of the Dons, and had suffered accordingly.

Acting upon this advice my father again addressed the Spanish officer, and, at the mere threat of such a fate, the prisoner gave the desired information.

It was startling enough in all sooth. News of our expedition had filtered through--possibly by means of the Indians we had engaged--and a strong force, of which the party we had overcome was the advance guard, was on its way from the city of Vera Cruz to intercept us on our march to the sea.

On this we held another council of war. Some proposed that we should hide the silver and march light, taking another route to the coast; others that we should hold what we had, and trust to Providence and our own strength to fight our way to the sea; while others even more daring suggested that we should retrace our steps, cross to the great ocean that lies on the west side of the Spanish Main, and there build a ship large enough to take us round the great cape that lies towards the cold unknown ocean of the south.

After much deliberation it was decided to adopt the middle course, holding to the hard-gotten silver at all costs; and at daybreak, having ordered the beasts of burden, and shared their loads with the Indian carriers, we resumed our march, keeping strict military formation on our return to the sea.

Unmolested, though worn out with ceaseless vigilance, we progressed till within a day's march of the haven where we had left the _Damsel of Lyme_. Here, instead of following the left bank of the turbulent stream, we crossed and followed the opposite bank, thus putting a river that increased in size and strength as we descended betwixt our foes and ourselves.

Now we came in touch with the Spaniards once more, for strong bodies of musketeers and archers appeared on the foreside of the river and opened a heavy fire whenever they caught a glimpse of us through the thick brushwood.

We now thought it advisable to release our prisoners, with the exception of the officer, for they greatly hampered our movements by reason of the men required to guard them.

That night we encamped, lighting huge watch-fires, but before midnight we were once more on the move, leaving the fires to delude the enemy into the belief that we were halting till daybreak.

'Twas well that we did so, for barely had we covered two leagues when we heard the sounds of firing. The Spaniards had contrived to cross the river, and had made a surprise attack upon our abandoned camping-site.

In a measure this was fortunate, for we had diverted their march from the direction of the creek in which the pinnace lay hidden; but, at the same time, we were separated from her by an arm of the sea nearly three miles in breadth.

At length we came in sight of the ocean once more, for on emerging from the dense scrub we found ourselves on a narrow neck of land surrounded on three sides by low cliffs, and forming one of the arms that enclosed the estuary of the river.

Here we immediately proceeded to entrench ourselves, for there was no time to be lost. A shallow ditch was dug, and a low breastwork was thrown up across the narrowest part of the projecting land, while on the farthermost side of the ditch a wall of thorns was constructed that would greatly hamper a charge of horse, but at the same time would offer no impediment to our bullets.

Then, having finished with the Indians and the mules, we dismissed them, knowing that the former could make good their escape with ease ere the Spaniards were upon us. At the same time, we promised good payment to the Indians should they be able to furnish us with supplies of food before we were closely beset.

Acting upon a prearranged plan, we made three separate fires, damping the wood so that it threw up a dense smoke. This was for the recall of our consort, the _Nonsuch_, although we knew not whether she was still in the offing.

Water there was in abundance, there being several springs close to the sand at the edge of the sea; yet, though separated from the salt ocean only by a few paces, the liquid was perfectly sweet and wholesome.

"Courage, my lads!" exclaimed my father. "Here we can hold out for weeks, if needs be."

"I'd rather that we had the pinnace to fall back upon, sir," observed Coombes. "I would make an essay to bring her across."

"But how so?" asked my father. "She is dismantled, with no sails aboard. And, moreover, how are we to get across the mouth of the river?"

"I'll swim for it, sir, if three others are willing to make the attempt. Then trust me to get her across somehow."

"Then go, and God speed you, Coombes," replied my father.

Had he needed them, the mate could have had a score of men to accompany him, for all who could swim well were ready to make the attempt, though they knew the dangers, both from the reptiles that infested the river and from sharks that came in across the bar.

Undeterred by these terrors, Coombes selected his three comrades and made ready for the swim.