Up the Forked River: or, Adventures in South America

“I think,” said Martella, “he means to get more men and attack the boat.”

“But where will he get the men from? He is a long way from Atlamalco.”

“Yet not very far from Castillo Descanso, where he has quite a force as you know.”

“That will take many hours and we shall not stay here forever.”

“There is no saying how long it will be.”

“I must have a few words with the Captain.”

Major Starland immediately left the lower deck and climbed to the pilot house, where the executive of the tugboat, having nothing pressing on his hands, had sat down on the stool placed there for his convenience and was smoking another cigarette. Looking around, as he heard the footsteps, he touched his forefinger to his hat and said:

“Buenas noches, Señor! We are still fast.”

“That cannot be disputed.”

CHAPTER XXXI

The American leaned on the bottom of the slide, with his face scarcely two feet from the other, and with the revolver at his hip within instant reach.

“Captain Ortega, will you answer a question truly?”

“That depends upon the question, Señor; if I answer at all, it shall be truly, but I may choose to leave it unanswered.”

“Did you run this boat aground on purpose?”

Captain Ortega took two or three complacent whiffs, gazed off over the moonlit river and then removing the wisp of tobacco from between his lips, smiled, and looking into the face before him, coolly replied:

“I did, Señor.”

“It was after my warning to you.”

“Begging pardon, Señor, it could not well have been before.”

“What did you hope to accomplish?”

“To help General Yozarro to recover his boat.”

“How?”

“I expected him to dash forward and board.”

“He lacked the courage to attempt it.”

“I am sorry to agree with you.”

“But he was wise; I kept one of the guns continually bearing upon him and would have blown him and his men to kingdom come.”

Again the Captain puffed his cigarette. He looked dreamily down the river where the sailing craft had passed from sight.

“You would not have harmed General Yozarro or anyone in the boat.”

“You are insulting, Captain; I could not have missed them.”

“The port gun had no charge in it!”

“Good heavens! is that the truth?” demanded the astounded American.

“You have only to examine the piece for yourself to learn that it is.”

“Did General Yozarro know it?”

The Captain puffed several times so hard that the point of fire touched his mustache, then he impatiently flung the bit out of the window. Superbly self-possessed as he was, he could not conceal his anger.

“How could he help knowing it, when by his own orders the charge was withdrawn before we left Atlamalco? What his whim was I didn’t ask and do not care.”

“Knowing that, why did he hesitate?”

“Because,” replied Captain Ortega with a sneer, “he feared you might have learned the truth, and reloaded the gun. I had no way of telling him different.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

Looking straight in the eyes of the American, the Captain said:

“I am an Atlamalcan!”

“And the best of the lot! But, Captain, did you not fear I would carry out my threat of shooting you when you ran the boat aground?”

“I expected you to try to do so, but I, too, should have done some shooting also.”

“You told me you were unarmed.”

“And when I said I had no weapon on me, it was the truth, but I did not tell you that I did not know where to lay hand on a revolver whenever it should become necessary.”

“I respect your frankness; I can suspect your plan, but may I not hear it from your own lips?”

“I was on guard, and had you raised your weapon when standing below, I should have fired my own first, and pardon me, Señor, I should not have missed. Your two friends were also in fair range and would have received my attention in the same moment.”

“I must consider it fortunate that I did not act on my impulse, for at no time did I fear anything of that nature from you. Having refrained, what then was your plan?”

“I had not a doubt that General Yozarro would board, having every reason to believe the port gun was empty, without any such thought on your part. The moment he tried to do so, I should have left the wheel and done what I could to help him; I think I should have been able to give him some assistance, Señor – I beg your pardon, I think I heard you called Major.”

“Little doubt you would; it was that I feared more than anything else, though I doubted your having a pistol. My fear of you was my chief reason for trying to frighten them off from boarding.”

Captain Ortega seemed to think the subject entertaining, for he lit another cigarette – first offering the box to the American – crossed his legs, leaned back at his leisure, looked smilingly up in the American’s face, and said in an even voice:

“It may be treason, Major, but General Yozarro is a coward! He spoiled everything by refusing to attack, when nearly every man in his boat was eager for it. When I was on the point of calling to him that the gun was empty, he tumbled back in the boat at your threat. I was so filled with contempt that I vowed I would give him no help; I shall do nothing more to aid him, for, after I opened the door, he was too scared to enter it. To prove I am in earnest, Major, I now surrender my only weapon.”

With which he drew out a beautiful silver-mounted revolver from under his loose jacket and extended it, with the muzzle turned toward himself, to the wondering American.

“I decline to take it, provided you will give me your parole to remain neutral in whatever may occur while I am on this craft.”

“You have my pledge,” said the Captain, shoving the weapon back.

“Can you tell me what General Yozarro is likely to do?”

“I can, but to do so, would be a violation of my neutrality.”

“A fair hit!” laughed the American; “I spoke without thought, but it will not touch the question of neutrality if you tell me how much longer we are likely to remain fast in the mud.”

“You may be aware that we feel the ocean tide to some extent in this part of the Rio Rubio. Some time beyond midnight, if we do not drive farther upon the shoal, the tide will lift us clear. You may not have noticed, Major, that the screw has been driving us forward most of the time, instead of backward. It is doing so now, but with your permission, I will order the engineer to reverse.”

“Well, I’ll be hanged! I heard you do that a good while ago.”

“That signal was for your benefit; there was another sent down the tube for the private ear of the engineer which you did not hear.”

CHAPTER XXXII

Major Starland thrust his hand through the window of the pilot house.

“Give me the pleasure, Captain.”

The other smilingly returned the pressure. Each saluted and the American passed back into the cabin, where his sister awaited him. He explained the situation.

“Do you know who he is, Jack?”

“I believe his name is Captain Ramon Ortega.”

“Have you never heard it before?”

“It seems to have a familiar sound, but I cannot identify it.”

“He is the betrothed of Manuela.”

“Why didn’t I remember it? I can’t help admiring the fellow, for he is the soul of honor.”

“She could have told you that.”

“You and he are acquaintances, but he does not seem to recognize you.”

“He cannot fail to know me, for we have met, but I think he prefers to be a stranger, while our relations are so peculiar. He will not allow me to leave without a few words.”

“Great heavens! I came near shooting him, but I guess it wasn’t any nearer than he came to shooting me. He is as brave as he is high minded.”

The young woman had removed the remnants of the feast left by General Yozarro and his guests so that the small, richly furnished apartment looked tidy and attractive. She reclined on the silken covered lounge placed against the side of the cabin, and her brother bade her good night and returned to his comrades, seated at the front and talking in low tones. To them the Major told of his talk with Captain Ortega.

“You do not doubt what he told you, Major?” said Guzman inquiringly.

“It is impossible.”

“General Yozarro has not a braver or more honorable officer in his army. Three years ago, when we were at war with Atlamalco, and neither republic owned a fleet, we had a fight with three hundred Atlamalcans in the mountains. Each force was about the same and it was one of the hottest fights I ever saw, for the respective forces were commanded by Generals Bambos and Yozarro.”

“Did each take a personal part in it?”

“Yes,” replied Captain Guzman with a grin and shrug of the shoulders, “that is to say, so far as directing matters was concerned. I saw Bambos peeping out from behind a big rock, swinging his sword, shouting and yawping till he seemed ready to burst, but taking good care when the bullets were whistling near that he was out of reach. I didn’t see anything of Yozarro, but – ”

“I did,” interrupted Martella; “he was in a deep hollow and made sure his head never rose a half inch above the edge. He did his part too in bellowing orders, but I don’t suppose he commanded any more attention than Bambos, Captain.”

“Both forces fought independently of their leaders.”

“You commanded yours, Captain, and did it well.”

“Not so well as Captain Ortega, for it was that thundergust flank movement which drove us headlong out of the mountains, with some of the men never halting till they reached Zalapata. Captain Ortega and no one else won that battle.”

“General Yozarro knows his worth,” said Martella; “he would have made him a general long ago if it was not that he is jealous of him. He is the only one I know who doesn’t fear General Yozarro. They often quarrel, for the Captain is plain of speech to every one. Yozarro has announced that he means to make him admiral of the fleet which he intends to build up. That I suppose is why he has placed him in charge of the gunboat, so that he shall have all the training and experience he can.”

“How does he feel toward you, Martella?”

The native gave his usual shrug and grinned.

“I know enough to keep away from him. He will never forgive me for deserting. He knows my grievance and may pity me, but he would be glad to shoot me, if he had a fair excuse for doing so. I don’t mean to tempt him, even if he has given you his pledge of neutrality and is the most honorable of men. If General Yozarro finds fault with him, it will be just like Captain Ortega to say right before all the other officers ‘I gave you a chance, but you had not the courage to use it and I would not waste any more effort on you.’”

None of the three could make a satisfactory forecast of the policy of General Yozarro. It seemed to the American that he might be able to secure two or three pieces of cannon and open a bombardment of the boat from the shore, but this presupposed an unreasonable delay. Captain Guzman said:

“He has no way of getting cannon this side of Atlamalco, and that would take a day or two; he has no wish to destroy his own property, and, if he had such a wish, he couldn’t do it, for only by accident would he hit the boat.”

“That squelches my theory, which I didn’t believe in myself. I’ll have another talk with the Captain, though his sense of honor isn’t likely to allow him to say much.”

It was beyond midnight and the two were conversing in a friendly way, but without anything important being said, when they looked in each other’s face with a pleased expression. A welcome fact had become known to both at the same moment.

“The boat is moving,” whispered the American.

With the screw motionless, she had been lifted clear by the tide and now swung clear. The Captain drew out his watch and held it so the moonlight lit up the face.

“There is no reaching Zalapata until toward noon, provided we get there with this gunboat, Major.”

The significant intonation and smile which accompanied these words puzzled the American, who would have given much to have had them explained. But it was useless to question the Captain and the only comfort was in the thought that he was an honorable foe.

“Now for Zalapata!” he added.

“I assume, Captain, that you are familiar with all the windings and dangers of the river.”

“Didn’t I prove it by running aground? But there will be no more mishaps of that nature while I hold the wheel.”

“Your pledge is sufficient,” remarked the American, who again passed to the lower deck and joined his friends. He told them of the curious remark of Captain Ortega, but none of the three could guess his meaning.

“The only thing that is certain,” said Captain Guzman, “is that General Yozarro and the rest are somewhere down the river and we shall hear more from them.”

No one felt any disposition to sleep and none really needed rest. The engineer and firemen caught cat naps whenever they could. Captain Ortega was probably in the same state with his three male passengers. His duties did not require long runs as a rule, but the present demand having arisen, he was equal to twenty hours or more at a stretch.

CHAPTER XXXIII

The tropical night wore away and the growing light in the east showed that day was dawning. With the exception of the men who wrought below, Miss Starland was the only one who slept during those monotonous hours, but she was astir early, and with the help of Martella set about preparing the morning meal for the crew and passengers. General Yozarro could be counted upon to carry a well stocked larder, and little solid food is required in so warm a country. Many of the fish in the bifurcated river are of delicious flavor, but rice and fruit form the principal diet. She prepared coffee and the first food that was ready was taken below by Martella for the men who did the hardest work.

“The Captain must not be forgotten, Martella; will you carry a tray to him?”

“Not for all the gold in the Rubio Mountains; you told me you allowed him to keep his pistol.”

“True, as you said, it isn’t best to tempt him too far; I will take his food to him.”

“Permit me to do so,” interposed Captain Guzman, who thereupon performed the pleasing task. Ortega was first invited to come to the cabin to join them, but he replied that his duties required him to remain in the pilot house. The delicate feeling that prompted his refusal was understood by the brother and sister.

Just as the meal was finished, all were startled by the hoarse, tremulous whistle overhead. Two long blasts sounded, and the clink of the little brass lever was heard as it dropped back to its resting place against the sounding tube.

“What does that mean?” asked Major Starland, who the next moment bounded to his feet and hurried to the Captain, with Guzman at his heels.

“Captain, what is the cause of that signal; have you so soon forgotten your neutrality?”

“It is a salutation to the steamer just coming round the bend. Listen!”

A sepulchral tremolo rumbled across the water, and the topmast of a craft was discerned gliding along over the stunted tops of the timber growing on the projecting point of land which for the moment shut the hull from view. From the highest point fluttered the most beautiful flag ever bathed in the sunlight of heaven. It seemed to be bounding forward as if borne at the head of a charging regiment.

“By heavens!” exclaimed the happy American, to whom the answering signal was one of the most familiar sounds on earth; “that’s the Warrenia, my own yacht!”

“I am pleased to know it,” said Captain Ortega.

Miss Starland was scarcely behind the others in climbing to the upper deck. The Captain lifted his hat, they smiled at each other, but there was no other sign of recognition.

First the clean cut prow, with the pretty flag of the Triton Navy dallying from the staff, then the graceful hull and the peak with the flag of our country streaming in the gale created by its own motion, and the whole magnificent craft steamed round the bend and headed toward the tugboat. With dancing eyes centered upon the thrilling picture, our friends saw a snowy puff shoot upward from the brass cylinder and the old welcome signal shuddered across the water.

“Will the Señorita oblige me by replying?” asked Captain Ortega. The radiant young woman, with a smile and inclination of her head, but with no further evidence that they were acquaintances, stepped into the door that the Captain opened for her, and grasping the cord answered the boat named for herself. Then, thanking the courteous officer, she passed out again and excitedly waved her handkerchief at a lady who was seen standing in front of the others at the bow.

“That’s Aunt Cynthia! There! she has raised her glass! She knows me! Bless her dear heart!”

The woman had recognized her niece and her handkerchief was also a-flutter. An understanding was had through the signalling of the whistles and the two craft rapidly approached each other. Major Starland swung his hat in greeting, again the whistles bellowed across the decreasing space and all was gladness and joy.

While they were yet too far apart to converse readily, the Major had noted another form near the pilot house, a little to one side of Aunt Cynthia. It was bulky and broad, was in gorgeous uniform of blue and gilt, with the golden sash high up in front and low at the back, and the point of his scabbard touching the deck.

“What the mischief is General Bambos doing there?”

“Probably he is a self-invited guest,” suggested Captain Guzman.

“True, and I can afford to welcome him; it is fortunate that the yacht took aboard new supplies at San Luis.”

The tinkling of signal bells and the reversing of screws and the shifting over of wheels brought the two boats so nearly alongside that conversation became facile among all parties. Holding off the General Yozarro, Captain Ortega waited to know the wishes of his chief passenger, who now became the supreme authority on both crafts.

Under the manipulation of the adepts at the respective wheels, the boats were laid beside each other and the gangplank of the yacht connected the two. Miss Starland was the first to run across and was clasped in the arms of her delighted relative. Then her brother, Captain Guzman and Martella followed. General Bambos bowed as nearly to the deck as he could, with his plumed hat sweeping the air, and expressed his happiness at meeting the charming young American Señorita again. Then, while the boats remained lashed, he asked an explanation of the situation, which was a mystery to him as it was to nearly all the others.

Major Starland took it upon himself to enlighten him and his friends, doing so with a succinctness that left no doubt in the mind of any one. The broad face grew solemn, when he succeeded at last in comprehending the remarkable story.

“You will permit me to say, Major, that you have committed a serious international offence.”

“And I am prepared to bear all the consequences of my crime.”

“They are likely to be graver than you seem to think; it is your duty, first of all, to apologize – ”

“Apologize to that scoundrel of a Yozarro! I’ll see him hanged first!”

“You will not deny that it is your honorable duty to restore the Atlamalcan navy to my excellent compatriot, General Yozarro.”

“You seem to be concerned for the brother with whom, only a day or two ago, you were eager to go to war. I don’t want that old tub which he calls a gunboat; he is welcome to it; Atlamalco holds a single solitary gentleman, Captain Ramon Ortega, who is up there at the wheel, and he is at liberty to take the boat back to his chief with my compliments, and that chief may go hang.”

“But that will hardly do; you took it by force from him and should return it in person. It is the only way by which an international complication can be prevented.”

Yielding to an impulse inspired by the humor of the situation, Major Starland said:

“Very well; I’ll take it upon myself to deliver the General Yozarro to its owner with my own hands.”

CHAPTER XXXIV

Major Jack Starland carried out his thoughtlessly formed plan. I fear it must be conceded that his motive was not a wholly chivalrous one. He saw the chance for humiliating the man for whom he felt only unmitigated contempt. He had not a whit of respect for the pompous Bambos, but the ponderous nuisance had not insulted him and his unpardonably. No doubt had the opportunity come to the President of the Zalapatan Republic, he would have acted with similar dishonor, but in the affairs of this world, men are judged by their deeds instead of their motives. Only One can be unerring in his judgments.

“General Bambos and I will go aboard the tugboat and steam up the river till we find Yozarro. We may have to go to Atlamalco, but it makes no difference; the Warrenia will act as our escort, and I shall make sure the affair is conducted in the highest style of the art. I don’t wish to involve my government in the broil.”

Accordingly, after everything had been explained to Captain Winton of the yacht, the American officer and the General walked beside each other across the gangplank, which bowed threateningly under the unusual weight, the support was drawn in, and both craft began moving at moderate speed up the bifurcated river. The Warrenia dropped a little way to the rear, and held thus while the two ascended the stream.

Excusing himself for a few minutes, the Major left the General in the cabin and went forward for a few words with Captain Ortega, who, cigarette in mouth, smilingly saluted and welcomed him.

“You understand, Captain, the arrangement that has been made?”

“I heard what was said; you have agreed to turn over this boat in person to General Yozarro.”

The American nodded.

“You will permit me to say, Major, that you have done a foolish thing. When you left the gunboat as you did, I was free to pick up the General and that should have been the end of the affair.”

“True, but I am quite willing to feed his vanity to the extent demanded by General Bambos; but I wish to say, Captain, that I am in the dark as to where we shall find your President. He sailed down the river ahead of us, but the yacht saw nothing of him, when it seems he should have been met, and we have not observed him on our way.”

“Pardon me, Major, you should say ‘I,’ not ‘we.’”

“Do you know where General Yozarro is?”

“I have known for several hours; I believe my status has been changed by the late occurrences and I may speak freely.”

“Unquestionably; no cause remains for further secrets between us.”

“Then I may say that some hours ago, when you stood where you are now standing, discussing this question with me, my eyes were resting on General Yozarro.”

“You astonish me, Captain; be more explicit.”

“I knew when he sailed out of sight around the bend in the river, that he would not go far. He did not. He ran to the southern bank, lowered his sail, and pulled the boat so far under the overhanging vegetation that neither you nor your friends noted it. Knowing where to look, I was more fortunate. The General signalled to me to come to land, so that he and his men could attack you.”

“Why did you not do so? Yet it would have been your death warrant to have made the attempt.”

“That was not the reason why I did not go to him; I had given the General one opportunity, and was too impatient with him to provide a second. But, more than that, you had my parole.”

“True; I had forgotten that. May I ask what you think General Yozarro’s plan is?”

“He does not understand why I refused to obey his signal, and there will be a hot quarrel over it when we meet. He expects me to return, sooner or later, for he must know that the purpose of yourself is to reach Zalapata with the Señorita, after which I shall be at liberty to return to Atlamalco. I shall, therefore, find him not far from where I saw him a few hours ago.”

“I beg to renew the assurances of my distinguished consideration, Captain,” said the American, saluting and passing back to the cabin.

The massive Dictator of the Zalapatan Republic was puffing and striding to and fro over the short length of the cabin, the point of his scabbard titillating against the floor, for his steps, though of moderate length for an ordinary man, were long for a person of his build. His face was redder than ever, and it was clear that he was agitated over some great question that was wriggling through his brain.