Where Duty Called: or, In Honor Bound

"No power below Castro's can free them until Matos enters San Carlos."

Ronie was about to reply, when a commotion outside of the dwelling arrested their attention, and before they were able to understand what it meant, the wife of the Venezuelan hurriedly entered the apartment, exclaiming:

"Fly, for your life, Manuel! The yard is full of soldiers searching for the Gringos!"

Even Ronie knew this last word was a term applied by the Spanish races to Americans, and that he and Jack were the objects sought for by the newcomers.

Manuel Marlin quickly anticipated the truth, and he cried out in alarm:

"We have been betrayed! Some one has carried the news of your coming to El Capitan. Quick! flee from here, if you value your lives and mine."

CHAPTER XI.

A PERILOUS FLIGHT

Renewed outcries now came from outside the building, and it seemed evident that the mob was about to enter the place. Certainly it would unless something could be done to evade such a movement. Jack Greenland was the first to speak:

"Can't you or the woman parley with them long enough for us to slip away by the rear of the building, Manuel?"

"Me – parley? They would string me up like a dog. Curses upon their pig heads!"

By this time his wife had become calmer than he, and she showed that if he was lacking in courage to meet the enemy, she was not. So she immediately offered to keep the crowd at bay long enough for them to effect their escape, her husband showing great eagerness to profit by her heroism. Accordingly, she returned to the front part of the dwelling without loss of time, and a moment later Ronie heard her challenging the leader of the would-be captors.

"While it may not be good policy for us to use them too freely, it may not be amiss for us to provide ourselves with firearms," said Jack.

"Si, señors," replied Manuel, quickly darting away from them, but returning in an incredibly short time with a couple of short, but serviceable weapons, one of which he handed to each of his companions.

"Follow me, señors. They are getting impatient, and Dolores will not be able to hold them back long. I think we had better cross the bay to the other shore. I have a boat."

As Ronie and Jack had no better plan to offer, they followed the speaker in silence. He led the way to the rear of his humble dwelling, where they paused to listen for sounds of their enemies. These came from the front, and judging that the soldiers had not yet surrounded the place they plunged boldly into the midst of the dense tropical plants which reached above their heads, Manuel still leading the way. But they had not gone far before he suddenly stopped, and motioned for his companions to do the same.

As the three fugitives thus abruptly paused they heard the sound of footsteps, which rapidly became plainer. There were evidently several persons approaching at a headlong rate, and knowing only enemies were likely to be in that vicinity, they dropped swiftly and silently to the earth, the broad leaves of the thrifty plants about them affording shields for their bodies.

A minute later, half a dozen men burst through the rank vegetation within a yard of where they were lying! Jack and Ronie, believing they were going to be discovered, thought hastily of flight in another direction, but the party quickly swept past and disappeared in the distance below them. As soon as they felt it was prudent they resumed their flight, having no further cause for alarm until they came in sight of the narrow body of water ahead. Between the growth and this was a broad belt of sand, where not a shrub found sustenance. The clear, starlit night made this space almost as bright as by day.

"Hark!" panted Manuel Marlin, "they are coming! They have scented us like bloodhounds. Our only hope is in reaching the boat. It is just above that highest sand bar. Run for your lives, señors!"

Ronie and Jack now heard plainly the sounds of their enemies approaching from their rear, and the exciting words of their companion were not needed to urge them ahead. With light, swift steps they bounded forward across the open country. When about halfway to the shore a volley of bullets was sent after them, and then their pursuers burst out from the growth into sight.

The aim of the pursuing crowd must have been poor, for their shots failed to strike any of the fugitives, who were urged on to greater effort, if that were possible. Jack, glancing back, saw the party following at a furious pace upon their heels, and instinctively glanced toward the water. It was nearer to the boat than back to their pursuers, and he felt confident they would be able to reach the little craft in season. Ronie was slightly ahead, while Manuel was as far behind, unable to make as good speed as the young American engineer.

"Don't leave me!" sputtered the latter, and as if he were going to make this a necessity he stumbled over a sand knoll, to measure his length on the ground. His companions, not hearing him fall upon the soft earth, and being ahead, were not aware of his mishap until prolonged yells from their pursuers and piteous cries from him, caused both to look backward.

The ring of triumph in the tones of the soldiers in the distance told plainly that they anticipated a certain capture of at least one of the fugitives, but Manuel rallied quickly, and was again upon his feet.

"Keep on for the boat!" cried Jack, who felt that it would be fatal for them to stop now. So they sped ahead, with Manuel sprinting his best to overtake them, and the armed posse behind madly pursuing.

They were soon close down to the boat, drawn up on the white sand, out of the reach of the water, and then Ronie and Jack, panting for breath, stopped beside it.

"Quick! push it out into the water," said Jack, seizing upon the gunwale and giving the object a furious shove toward the tide. Ronie had already caught upon the boat, and together they sent it forward more than its length in the twinkling of an eye. But the short delay enabled Manuel to overtake them, so, as the boat floated on the water, he sprang into the stern. There were a pair of oars in the bottom, and Jack and Ronie each took one of these, to begin to send the light craft flying across the narrow bay, while the Venezuelan steered for the opposite shore.

Renewed cries from their pursuers reached their ears in the midst of this flight, and another volley of shot followed them. But the latter proved as ineffectual as the first, and glancing back a few minutes later, Manuel gave expression to a chuckle of delight, while he said:

"We've outstripped them, señors. There is not another boat they can get in season to follow us before we reach the land."

Nothing further was said until the keel of the boat grated on the sand, when Ronie and Jack jumped out upon the land, closely followed by Manuel. The shadowy forms of their enemies could be discerned upon the other side of the water, but feeling comparatively safe from them, our twain turned to their guide for such suggestion as he might have to offer. It was a beautiful tropical night, the full, round moon of the South, now fairly above the horizon, was gliding over a sky of cloudless blue, having already driven the stars into the background of space, so that only Venus, the zone of Orion and the brilliant radii of the Southern Cross were visible.

Away from their feet stretched the silvery mirror of the sea, marking the meridian of the moon. So calm and silent lay the deep water that a satellite sky seemed carved from its azure depths. Upon the other hand, the country, growing more and more broken in the distance, lay clothed in its tropic verdure as silent and mysterious as the Blue Water Empire. The beauty of nature, however, had no attraction for Manuel Marlin, who felt that his life was at stake, and only swift flight could save him.

"A friend of mine, living a short distance from here, has a couple of horses you can get," he said. "I shall not need one," he added, seeing their looks of inquiry, "as I shall not go very far. I have friends who will afford me protection until this shall blow over."

Then he led the way up from the shore and along a path at times nearly choked with the overhanging growth, until they finally reached the home of a planter. After considerable trouble Manuel succeeded in rousing the owner, who did not appear in very good humor at being thus disturbed. But as soon as he understood the errand of his untimely caller he became more genial. Would he let the Americanos have horses to carry important news to the revolutionists near Caracas? Most assuredly he would for so important a purpose! It will be noticed that Manuel did not try to stick very near to the truth in the matter, and neither of our friends felt like correcting him under the circumstances.

Finally the planter ordered out a couple of peons, who soon brought forward a pair of small, but hardy ponies, which their owner declared were good for all that might be required of them. Leaving Manuel to arrange for the loan of them in such a manner as he thought best, Ronie and Jack sprang into the saddles and prepared to start upon their long and hazardous journey.

"Keep your eyes open for our friends, Manuel," were the parting words of Ronie.

"Trust me for that, señor, and may you live to come back with the welcome word that Caracas is once more safe from the spoils of the mercenary knaves that flock to the mountain savage."

Murmuring an unintelligible reply to this, the couple then urged their ponies forward, and a moment later were starting side by side upon the first stage of a ride through a country overrun with hostile armies and dangers which they had not stopped to contemplate.

CHAPTER XII.

A LONELY RIDE

Ronie and Jack were crossing the vast plain which extends westward and southward along the shore of Lake Maracaibo, upon the border of which stands that beautiful city by the same name, and which is the capital of the State of Zulia. The climate of this region is warm, but cooled by the lake breezes, as well as by the breath of old ocean, it becomes very enjoyable. Thus they rode on under conditions that must have been pleasant had it not been for the shadows of war which overhung every step of their journey.

The road, if the trampled path at places overgrown with rank vegetation, and at others smooth and bare as an open floor, deserved the dignity of the name, soon after leaving the sand belt of the coast, wound across broad fields of sugar cane, indigo and tobacco, or through great plantations given over to the cultivation of cacao trees, which yield those luscious beans that have been described as affording food for gods. These trees to flourish well have to be protected by some taller species of tree, and for this purpose the tall, over-arching Erithynas is raised, giving the scene the appearance at a distance of being a huge forest, rather than a cultivated field.

Frequently the progress of our heroes was checked, if not quite stopped, by growths of weeds which had sprung up on deserted plantations. In Venezuela land is so cheap that it is more advantageous to abandon a tract of land when it becomes worn out by cultivation, and clear a new territory, than it is to reclaim the old. The latter thus soon becomes a forest of weeds, which, insignificant at first, soon develop into trees with branches, so that by the second season these overtop the head of a man on horseback. These huge tree-weeds afford support for dense masses of creepers, among which Ronie noticed the convolvulus, begonias and passion flowers. These at places hung their flowering heads so as to form graceful festoons, or anon lifted them proudly to the breeze, forming picturesque bowers and floral archways.

If displaying beauty and magnificence in their bountiful offerings, these jungles were anything but pleasant paths to follow, and it required skillful management on the part of the rider to save himself from being pulled from his seat, or escape that fate he might expect at the hands of the hangman. The native riders show wonderful ability to run these gantlets, which the newcomer must naturally lack. Now hanging by one leg down the side of his horse, or stretching himself along its back, he would escape the blows a novice would be sure to receive while continuing his flight with speed scarcely abated.

By and by, however, Ronie and Jack came out into a more thickly populated country. The sun was beginning to crimson the eastern horizon with its early beams, and the two drew rein for a short consultation.

"I am afraid we have kept too far to our right," said Jack. "Manuel spoke of leaving the mountains over our shoulder, and we seem to be approaching them."

"If the country is becoming more broken, it has the appearance of being more thickly populated. Do you think, Jack, we need to stand in much fear of the insurgents in this vicinity?"

"Manuel spoke of a victory for his side recently at Barquisimete, and if I am not mistaken, we shall pass near that city – certainly near enough to be within range of the revolutionists. In fact, I feel pretty sure that the revolution is mainly centered in this part of the republic."

"I almost wish we had taken the route to Valencia."

"No doubt, whichever we had taken we should wish we had taken the other before we reached our destination. But that is not the right way to look at it. We must put on a bold front and push ahead."

"In order to do that we must see that our horses have sufficient food to enable them to keep moving, even if we go hungry ourselves."

"Right, my lad, and if there is an inn in yonder village I suggest we stop there long enough to allow them rest and feed."

"I agree to that. Shall you claim to be a revolutionist or a follower of Castro?"

"At present that must depend on circumstances. Ha! as I thought, we are approaching a coffee planter's little republic, with the liberty of his followers left out. Look beyond that ridge, and in the valley formed by the twin ranges of foothills you will see a typical peasant settlement, which certainly denotes that not far ahead we shall come upon some wealthy planter. These peons of Venezuela are to all intents and conditions slaves, resulting from the debts, it may be, contracted by their remote ancestors, as generation after generation have been doomed to work to satisfy the laws and customs of a country which never outlaws its debts, when those debts have been contracted by a weaker party. The consequence is that the poor of these South American States are destined to remain poor until some radical change has been made in this direction. It is true, Venezuela is not as bad off in this respect as some of the other republics, but it is bad enough here. Ay, in South America the word 'republic' loses the significance of liberty that it bears in other lands. It is natural a people condemned to lifelong poverty, for no fault of their own in most cases, should be ever ready to listen to the call to arms as a summons to a holiday. So you see it is easy to raise an army of this sort, and it is small wonder Venezuela has been bothered with so many outbreaks against its peace and progress. But here we are close upon the spacious abode of the coffee planter, who is the principal man of this vicinity, unless there happens to be another of his class."

After having seen the pyramidal structures of the peasants or peons, with roofs slanting to within a few feet of the ground, and thatched with palm leaves, the collection looking like a colony of beehives, Ronie was somewhat surprised to find now a dwelling that closely resembled the houses of his native land. It was, in fact, a fine residence, standing back several rods from the road, and reached by a broad avenue running under rows of stately trees resembling the American elms. He was to learn that these were known here as the Alcornoque, lifting as graceful heads, and as tall, tapering trunks as their northern cousins. Everything about this home of the coffee planter denoted wealth and comfort, in marked contrast to the humble huts scarcely beyond the vision, and of a style of architecture peculiar to the country.

"Whoever lives here must be a man of importance," remarked Ronie.

"True, lad, and being such a rich man, we are running little risk in assuming him to be a follower of Castro at this time. The cultivation of coffee is, in fact, a more certain way of earning a competence, and it may be, something above a living, than any other calling in Venezuela. For this reason nearly all others have been neglected. Sugar cane can be raised profitably, but that requires more capital to start with, and more manual labor to carry it on. To cultivate sugar successfully one must fertilize it, so to speak, with gold. But any man, if he is poor, can have a coffee estate if he has courage to work and wait for a short season. The day his bushes yield their first red berries he finds something coming into his pockets. The berries are worth as high as thirty dollars a hundred pounds, and cost less than one-third to raise. So you see a poor man, who may have hired the use of a piece of land, which he pays for on long instalments, may plant a coffee farm with the aid of his family, living on products that mature earlier on the same land, until at the end of three years he gathers his first crop of berries, followed by a full crop the next year. We shall doubtless meet with more of these small coffee plantations after this. If I mistake not, here comes the planter himself. Let us risk it in claiming to be friendly to the government."

Their approach had evidently attracted the owner of the estate, for Ronie had already seen a small, wiry-framed man, of a very dark complexion and dashing dress, coming, toward them. He now stopped to allow them to come forward, saying in a tone of apparent friendliness:

"Good-morning, señors," somewhat to their surprise speaking in their language.

"Good-morning," replied both in unison.

"You must have taken an early start, señors."

"It is because our journey is a long one, señor," replied Jack, who acted as spokesman. "Our horses are tired, and we would bespeak for them food and rest at your hospitality."

"Dismount, gentlemen. My men will look after them, while I entertain you."

While Jack and Ronie did as they were told, a couple of peons appeared on the scene, to lead the tired animals away, as the hospitable planter requested his visitors to follow him to his favorite morning retreat under one of the beautiful shade trees standing in his yard within sight of his house. If he had shown a friendly spirit in his tone so far, his next words, as the three sank upon the rustic benches encircling the tree, showed that he was not free from concern in regard to the character of his early callers:

"You say your journey is a long one, sirs; no man travels a long journey without an urgent purpose. Especially is this true on an occasion like this."

Jack, who could see no good likely to result from appearing mysterious, replied frankly and promptly:

"We are bound for Caracas, though it may not be well for every idle ear to catch the word."

"Right, sir. Who would you see in Caracas?"

"President Castro."

"Then your journey will be in vain, for the President is unavoidably kept away from the capital. You might have traveled much quicker by rail."

"Possibly. But as you say the President is not in Caracas, that would not have helped us. Can you tell if Minister Bowen is at the capital?"

"If he is, he would hardly be accessible at this time. Come, strangers, throw off your cloak of reticence and let us be frank with each other. My name is José Pelado, and having lived several years in your country, I am free to confess I have imbibed some of your Yankee spirit."

Our Americans immediately gave their names, adding that it was to obtain assistance in securing the freedom of a companion that they were on their way to the capital.

"I expected something of this kind. It is fortunate that you have come thus far without molestation, and I will assure you you cannot go as far on your next stage without falling into the hands of the guerilla hordes that infest the jungles. But, pardon me for keeping you from the rest and food that you must need. Partake of such refreshments as I can offer you, then we will discuss the situation."

Ronie and Jack were not loathe to do this, though while they ate, their host related to them much they had not known of the situation in the country. He showed that he was not only an educated man, but that he was well posted upon affairs, while he was very pronounced in his admiration for Castro.

"Venezuela has had revolutions and shades of revolutions, but not one more unwarranted than this. Castro is a patriot, and the uprising that he led a few years since, and which placed him at the head of the government, is no more to be compared to this than the snarling of a cowardly cur seeking to rob a bigger dog of his breakfast because he is too lazy to hunt for his own, is to the good, honest bark of a mastiff that seeks to defend his master's property. Andrade's administration, following Crespo's, was grossly dishonest, and would have drained the republic of its healthy interest, had it not been for the mountain patriot, Castro, who fought his way straight from the Venezuelan frontier, a good thousand miles, to Caracas, the capital. In a twinkling Andrade went out and Castro went in. He lost no time in setting about to clear up the clouded system of government. It required a masterly hand to guide the current of affairs. He soon found it difficult to know whom to trust.

"Among those who had rebelled with apparent honesty against Crespo and then his successor, Andrade, was the hunchback warrior, Manuel Hernandez, called by friends and foes alike as 'El Mocho.' His forces were scattered about in this region, he having rallied them by inflammable speeches against Andrade, whom he declared had been selected by fraud. Finally two thousand men, under the command of a relative of Crespo, met his band of scarcely five hundred near Valencia. In this unequal fight Crespo was killed and his men utterly routed by the hunchback, who instantly sprang into wild favor. His little army was swiftly increased by recruits. The people in general rejoiced at the fate of Crespo, who had made himself obnoxious to many. But the military prestige of Hernandez suffered an early frost. Andrade sent his minister of war to treat with him, and in the next battle he was defeated, his troops utterly routed, and he himself put into prison.

"Then Castro's triumph completely changed this. Andrade fled, and many of the followers of El Mocho joined the new ruler, who soon freed Hernandez, and offered him a place in his cabinet. Hernandez accepted, though it proved that he had not stifled his ambition to become president. He improved his new opportunity to inflate some of Castro's followers with his wild dreams. He believed he had had the experience now to enable him to overthrow the ruling power, so he stole out of the capital between two days, leading a small army at his heels.

"El Mocho made a desperate fight for his cause, but he misjudged the ability of his rival. Castro did not worry over his escapades, but when the favorable opportunity came he caught the hunchback rebel and returned him to the prison where he is likely to remain for a goodly time. Castro is the last man to be baffled where so much is at stake. What can be on foot now?"

CHAPTER XIII.

IN THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY

The last words of José Pelado were called forth by the sudden appearance of a peon with the announcement that a body of insurgents had been seen the night before, and that a flock of cattle had been killed or driven away by them. Upon receiving this intelligence, the coffee planter replied in Spanish in a tone that showed great anger. When he had conversed with the messenger for a few minutes he turned back to his guests, saying:

"The hungry hounds are again abroad. That mountain outlaw, Juan Rhoades, is at his old pranks, and this time he has become bolder than common from the fact that he has succeeded in calling about him more than five hundred rebels. News also comes from San Carlos that two spies are in this vicinity, and that efforts are being made to hunt them down. Well, let the fools look after themselves. Rhoades had better give me a wide berth."

Ronie and Jack were beginning to think it was about time for them to be on their way. Their horses were well rested by this time, so they proposed to Señor Pelado that they bid him good-by. He seemed disappointed to find they were not going to stay longer, and showed his good-will by offering to send an escort of men to protect them in case they should be attacked by Rhoades and his outlaws. But our heroes stoutly opposed this, while thanking him for his kindness.