Where Duty Called: or, In Honor Bound

Immediately cries of fright were uttered by the twain in their lofty ambush, but neither man offered to move. The companions of Ronie and Riva Baez, who had fallen behind a little, startled by these shots and outcries, now dashed hurriedly upon the scene.

"Cover the other rebel up there with your Mauser, Jack," commanded Ronie. "Do not hesitate to fire if he dares to lift a finger."

Jack quickly comprehended the situation, and no sooner had his youthful commander spoken than he took swift aim at the trembling wretch in the tree, saying, loud enough for the victim to hear:

"Ay, sergeant; I glory in such shooting!"

By this time Riva had succeeded in quieting his horse, which had not received a fatal wound, and the veteran scout was ready to do his part in the exciting drama.

"Stand at the foot of the tree to receive them, boys," ordered Ronie. "I am going to invite them to join us. Their company may be more desirable than we think."

Then, addressing the twain above, he continued in the best Spanish he could command:

"Come down, señors, as quickly as may be."

"Spare our lives, señor!" begged the one whom the young American had selected as his victim.

"Upon the condition that you surrender peacefully. As proof that you mean what you profess, please drop your weapons down to my men."

Without delay, the couple dropped their Mausers, which were caught by the young Venezuelans.

"If you have any other firearms, kindly let them down, We have more use for them than you."

This demand was followed by two braces of heavy pistols, followed by a couple of ugly-looking knives.

"Any more such playthings?" asked Ronie.

"No, señor. We have no more weapons, unless you call this rope such."

"Let that down, too. It will come in handy in a few minutes. You were very thoughtful to take it along with you."

The stout hempen rope was next thrown to the ground, after which the terrified sharpshooters waited for the succeeding order.

"Now, come down yourselves. Don't waste any powder, boys, if they are foolish enough to think of trying to run away."

"Ay, sergeant, trust us for that," replied Jack.

Ronie soon had the satisfaction of seeing the two cringing before him like a couple of curs about to receive a whipping. One of them was evidently a half-breed, while his companion, who had done the talking so far, showed more of Spanish blood.

"You have been caught in an ugly game, señors," said Ronie, whereupon both bowed, the spokesman saying:

"Do not shoot us, Señor Americano. If you will spare our lives, we will fight for you."

"A pretty mess you'd make of it. You were scouts for El Capitan?"

"Si, señor."

"You mistook us for Castro's soldiers?"

"Si, señor. We could not see very plain, and we thought you were only two."

"Which made your shooting more justifiable, I suppose. Seeing you are such poor marksmen, we will forgive you, providing you will answer my questions."

"Si, señor."

"Where is El Capitan?"

"At Morova."

"How far is that from here?"

"Four kilometers, señor."

"What is he doing there?"

"Waiting for reinforcements."

"What does he need reinforcements for?"

"To whip the dogs of Castro."

"No doubt he needs them. But are there any of Castro's soldiers in this vicinity?"

"Si, señor, at Baracoa."

This bit of information caused Ronie to resume his questioning with greater interest, for he knew this referred to Colonel Marchand's regiment.

"How many men has El Capitan under him?'

"Five thousand, señor."

"Beware, señor, for I know now you lie."

"He will have, señor, before he reaches Valencia."

"So he is headed in that way?"

"Si, señor."

"What I want to know is, how many men has he now? Be careful, for another lie will send your cringing souls to purgatory. How many men has El Capitan now?"

"Spare me, señor! I do not lie. El Capitan has about two hundred with him now, but he expects more soon."

"Do you mean to say he has two hundred at Morova?"

"Señor misunderstood me. He will have two hundred as soon as Calveras reaches him with his troops."

"Dog!" cried Ronie, looking as fierce as he could, while he threatened to resort to violence then and there, "you are trying to cheat me. I asked you how many soldiers El Capitan has at Morova."

"Fifty, señor," and the frightened wretch and his companion seemed about to collapse.

"That is all now," declared the young sergeant. "Secure them, men, at once."

Nothing loath, his companions began to carry out his order, Jack assisting Riva Baez in binding the spokesman of the twain. While they were doing this, the former heard the sound of paper crumpled in the prisoner's pocket. Thrusting his hand into the receptacle, he quickly drew forth two soiled and wrinkled missives.

"What have we here?" he asked. "As I live, here is a dispatch for Colonel Marchand from General Castro," handing, as he spoke, the paper to Ronie. Then, his eye falling upon the well-known envelope and stamp of his own country, he exclaimed:

"A letter for you, Ronie; and from New York!"

If honest Jack Greenland had unconsciously committed a breach of good respect in thus addressing a superior, Ronie did not heed it, while he took the crumpled missive handed him, his own hand trembling and a mist coming over his eyes at this unexpected communication from his native land. This mist deepened and his hand shook more violently, as he murmured, after glancing at its superscription:

"It is from mother, Jack!"

It was fortunate for the reputation of our hero that his companions were attentive to their duty, or the prisoners might have eluded their captors. But he was certainly excusable for his temporary lack of discretion. The finding of this letter from his mother, under the circumstances and condition of affairs, was enough to rob him of his usual presence of mind. While the others completed their tasks, he examined the missive, to find that it had already been opened. With blurred sight, he ran hastily over its closely-written page, saying, when he finished:

"It is as I expected. Mother was to leave New York soon after writing this, to meet me in Caracas. This was directed in the care of Colonel Marchand, and has been forwarded through the courtesy of General Castro to the colonel. She is here in this country, and in trouble, as I have feared."

"Let us hope it is nothing serious," said Jack. "At least, we can only hope for the best until we are able to learn more and do more. Has the dispatch to Colonel Marchand been opened?"

"Excuse me, Jack, for forgetting my duty. It must be duty before personal afflictions, I suppose. Yes, this has been opened. In that case, it will do no harm for me to read it, particularly as I may learn something to guide us in our work. It says," he continued, while he scanned the document, "that General Castro has been elected president of the republic for a term of six years. It says also that a body of his troops have been defeated at Barquismoto by the insurgents; that the Libertador has fixed on and sunk a Venezuelan ship named Crespo off Cumarebo, and that Matos has succeeded in landing twenty thousand rifles and two million cartridges at Trinidad.

"Now I come to news that interests us more. General Castro has sent to San Carlos demanding that Harrie be set at liberty immediately. That is good news indeed. But he goes on to say that he cannot set Francisco free until his case has had an investigation. Well, this has proved to be a pretty fortunate capture."

"A newsy one, certainly, and not all of it bad news, by any means. Shall we take these fellows along with us, sergeant?"

"Pardon me, Jack, I must be more mindful of my duty. Yes, I suppose we shall have to do so. It is also necessary that one of us return to Colonel Marchand with all haste possible, apprising him of what we have done, and to take him this dispatch from the general. While you are arranging for one of the boys to undertake this duty, I will write a few words to the colonel."

Then Ronie prepared his first war dispatch, succinctly describing what he had done and discovered. By the time he had finished this Jack had got one of the younger Venezuelans in readiness for his journey back to the regiment. Though he was loath to trust these important messages with this scout, Ronie felt that he could not do any better. He could not very well spare Jack or Riva Baez. Then, too, the latter vouched for the honesty and capability of the other, so he saw him depart with full confidence that the arduous duty would be performed faithfully.

The hands of the prisoners having been securely bound behind them, they were ordered to march in front of Jack and the younger Venezuelan, while Ronie and Riva Baez rode in front. In this manner the journey was resumed, though continued but a short time. It was now getting to be sunrise, and Riva having a friend in that vicinity, it was deemed best to stop there for a while – at least, long enough for the animals to recuperate.

The plantation of this man proved to be a huge farm of many thousand acres, but much of it valueless on account of the revolutionary state of the country. He was at home, and as soon as he learned the character of his visitors from his old friend Riva, he extended a most cordial greeting to them, promising to do everything in his power to assist them. The sight of the prisoners pleased him hugely, for he was a most pronounced admirer and supporter of Castro, and he quickly placed the two spies in quarters from which they could not escape without help.

"How is it," asked Ronie, "that you keep from being molested by the insurgents, when you are situated in the heart of the debatable ground?"

"The reason is simply because I can muster a force that can outwhip any army of curs that El Capitan can muster," he replied, rather vaingloriously. "Oh, they have tried it, Sergeant Rand, but I have routed them like a band of monkeys, and I can do it again."

Our little party fared sumptuously at the hands of this rather pompous Venezuelan, whose name was Don Isadora Casimiro, and so they could find no fault if he was a bit boastful and radical in his ideas. He insisted that they remain with him during the day, showing the advantage they would gain by waiting until nightfall before starting out. As much as Ronie disliked this inactivity, he believed it was wisest to do so. During the day the news was brought in by one of Don Isadora's scouts that El Capitan was mustering his forces to march on San Carlos with the purpose of liberating El Mocho.

As soon as the shadows of night began to fall, Ronie prepared to start anew on his expedition, Jack and the two Venezuelans accompanying him, the prisoners being left in care of the followers of Don Isadora. The ride for half an hour continued through an archway of trees growing on the plantation of their host, when Riva declared that they had reached the limit of his broad domains. They soon after entered a valley, the hoof-strokes of their horses muffled by the soft, spongy earth.

It must have been nearly midnight, for they had ridden several miles up and down the country without discovering any trace of the enemy, when Riva, who was slightly ahead of the others, abruptly paused in his advance. Ronie quickly gained his side, where he stopped to learn the cause of this unexpected halt. It required no words on the part of the guide to explain his action, as he mutely pointed with his right hand to a ravine, or gorge, running parallel with the road. The sound of human voices came up distinctly to the ears of Ronie.

Handing the rein of his horse to his companion, he silently dismounted, and crept toward the brink of the chasm overhanging the place. In a moment the light of a camp-fire struggled dimly upward through the thick foliage, while with the sound of voices came the noise and confusion of a body of men moving about.

"I believe it is an encampment of El Capitan," he whispered to Jack, who had joined him. "I have a mind to get a little closer."

"I need not tell you to be careful," said Jack. "Can I go with you?"

"I do not believe you had better, Jack. I will not be gone long. From the sounds, I judge the party below are about to start on some midnight raid."

Before he had finished speaking, Ronie began to lower himself down the descent, moving with such care that he made no noise. The bank did not prove to be perpendicular, but its smooth side sloped gently away to its foot, and covered as it was with rank vegetation, Ronie had little difficulty in descending, except that at places the matted mass of growth was so dense that he could penetrate it only after persistent effort. At the end of five minutes he found himself so near the bottom that his next step was upon the thatched roof of one of the primitive buildings that seemed to form a row on this side.

CHAPTER XXI.

"THE MOUNTAIN LION."

The sight which met Ronie's gaze was one of wildness bordering upon grandness. Its wildness consisted of a body of armed troops drawn up in front of the rude building, a mob of untamable savages, as the spectator from a civilized country must have judged them. They were half clad, poorly fed, as shown by their emaciated visages, and armed mainly with the rude implements that the uncivilized use. This wild aspect of the scene was given the touch of a certain grandeur by the sublime attention this motley throng paid to him who stood upon a slightly-raised dais addressing them at this moment.

This speaker was a man of stalwart figure, with a countenance naturally dark, bronzed by long exposure to the tropic sun, and flashing eye that could look without flinching upon the midday sun or upon the wildest rabble that ever gathered under the shadows of the land of revolutions. His speech was uttered in a manner and tongue in keeping with the man and the scene. Ronie could not understand all of the fierce language which seemed to have partaken of the mountain boldness and flowed from the lips of the orator like a torrent springing from its fountain head amid the rugged fastness of its native gorge, but he understood enough to catch the import of this stimulating harangue. He knew the man was El Capitan, and he was evidently resuming a speech which, for some reason, had been temporarily broken.

"Soldiers of freedom," he was saying, "the time for action has come. You have rallied bravely at my call, and now I am ready to lead you to battle and victory! Our path is clearly marked. To-night let us teach that braggart, Don Isadora, that he is not a little king; that he cannot longer defy El Capitan! From the smoking ruins of his estate we will sweep downward like a torrent from the mountain, and like a torrent we will gather volume as we sweep along. A trail of devastated plantations shall mark our course wherever the foolhardy defy us, and above the ruins of the smaller towns shall rise the captured columns of Valencia, La Guayra, Caracas – ay, Caracas! When the capital shall be ours, then will we make laws that lift the poor man into his just deserts, while the lawless rich shall feel the spur of oppression as his meeted judgment. Then shall the name of El Capitan stand beside that of Crespo, the mountain lion!"

As might have been expected, this bombastic speech was frequently interrupted with wild applause, especially when the orator compared himself to the late president of the republic. In one respect, at least, the harangue of El Capitan was apt. Crespo, like himself, was of humble birth and very large of stature. Whether he would equal the ex-president in other ways remained to be seen. Crespo was the idol of his brave followers, who were a dashing, picturesque soldiery, that the inhabitants of Venezuela looked upon very much as the Parisians must have looked with awe upon Napoleon's Mamelukes.

The story of this Venezuelan conqueror is a most interesting one. Following the rule of three or four presidents and dictators who succeeded the noted Blancos5 – there were two of these, father and son – were three or four presidents and dictators whose main object seemed to be to rob the government of all the money they could, and then flee from the country. Such proceedings gave the right man an excuse and an opportunity to rebel. This man was General Crespo, who with seven hundred followers set out to conquer the country. You have read history, know how the ambitious Pizarro, in the stormy days of conquest following the discovery of America by Columbus, overthrew the empire of the Incas with a handful of followers – only thirteen at the start. Crespo did better than that, for with only seven men he made himself president of a country more than twice as large as Spain and Portugal together, while I am glad to be able to say there was less of bloodshed and far less of inhuman sacrifice of innocent lives than in the case of the conqueror of the Incas.

I cannot refrain from giving the following story as typical of the man: His half-wild followers needed arms, and there was no manufactory to replenish them. In this extremity, when almost any other leader must have faltered, Crespo gave the order for his men to strip their bodies naked to the belt, and cover them with a liberal coating of grease. In this shape they were to charge upon an encampment of the enemy numbering more than six to one. This was to be done under cover of darkness, and as they ran through the camp each man was to hold his left hand straight out from his body. If it came in contact with a man wearing a shirt he was to overpower him and seize his firearms. If the body was like his own, he was to know it was a friend, and to keep on. In this wild, impressive manner less than three hundred half-naked men, armed only with their short knives, routed and disarmed over three thousand troops, comprising the flower of the government's army.

It will be noticed that El Capitan's appeal was personal rather than patriotic. Like many another Venezuelan revolutionist, he was fighting for selfish purposes, but his barbaric followers did not stop to consider this. Some one, with a memory of other days, asked concerning the liberation of El Mocho, when El Capitan replied:

"El Mocho is not to be trusted," meaning, no doubt, in his mind that he did not propose to give such a dangerous rival opportunity to be in his way.

Ronie felt that he had learned enough to show him his path of duty. Every moment was precious if he would warn Don Isadora of his peril, and he had no desire to leave the well-meaning don to the hands of this mountain outlaw. So he at once began his ascent of the bluff, which he found extremely difficult. But he accomplished the feat in safety, to find Jack and the Venezuelans anxiously awaiting him. A few words sufficed to explain the situation to them, when they heartily agreed with him that it was best for them to hasten to the plantation of the don as quickly as possible.

"I judge from what I heard while I was leaving my perch that El Capitan is expecting another body of his followers to join him this side of Don Isadora's. This division comes from the way of San Carlos. If it is half as large as the force now under him he will lead a formidable army against the don."

"A mere rabble," said Riva. "Don Isadora has some trained soldiers under him."

By this time the four were riding silently away, being careful to move as cautiously as they could. Riva again led the way, but Ronie and Jack were close behind him, while the younger Venezuelan kept as near to them as he could. In this manner the return journey to the don's plantation was speedily made, and without being discovered by the enemy.

As may be expected, the wealthy planter was profuse in his thanks for the information they gave him, and he began to prepare for the enemy at once, with a confidence in his ability to defeat the other that was sublime. As much as Ronie would have liked to remain and see the outcome of the affair, he felt it was his duty to start immediately to find Colonel Marchand. Don Isadora seemed to understand that it was the proper course for the scouts to pursue, so he offered no objections.

As our little party rode out of the grounds, having left their prisoners under the don's care, they saw that he had mustered his entire forces, numbering fully a hundred men, all of whom were armed with Mausers, pistols and short knives.

"El Capitan will be the one surprised this time," remarked Ronie to his companions. "I really wish we could stay and see the fun."

Little did any one of the quartet dream of the amount of "fun" in warlike earnest that he was to take part in before they should get beyond the don's big estate.

CHAPTER XXII.

A FIGHT WITH THE GUERRILLAS

Our scouts had gone about a mile, and Ronie was riding slightly in advance, when he became aware of the approach of a body of horsemen coming at a leisurely trot. In a moment he signaled for his companions to stop.

"We cannot avoid meeting them," he said, "and no doubt they are a part of El Capitan's army. We have started too late to escape them. Is there any path turning off from the road that we can turn into, Riva?"

"None, señor."

"Then we must turn aside here. Quick! push your horses back into the forest, making as little noise and disturbance as you can."

They were so successful in this work that before the approaching riders had come into sight they were all safely ambushed where they could peer out upon the passers-by without being seen, except by some scrutinizing eye. Ronie and Jack sat in their saddles, side by side, while Riva and his companion were only slightly removed. As the sound of the horsemen indicated their close proximity, our hero parted the bushes enough to enable him to obtain a good view of the road.

"If our horses will only keep quiet," he began, "there is a – "

Ronie's attention, in the midst of his speech, had become fastened upon the foremost of the approaching riders, so his companions never knew what he was about to say. Nor did he speak until the horsemen were within half a dozen yards of them. The body of men were riding two and two, and what had arrested his eyes was the sight of the nearest rider in the lead.

"It must be – it is Harrie!" he whispered.

"Ay, lad!" responded Jack, who had been watching as eagerly and closely as his companion.

"He is lashed upon the horse, and his hands tied behind him. What does it mean?"

Jack had no time to reply, but the situation was plain to both. The horsemen were a portion of El Capitan's followers, and were on their way to attack the don. Could they stand idle there and see Harrie taken to some fate they could not understand? Ronie's impetuous temperament would not permit it. He believed a sudden attack, a few shots, and the unsuspecting enemy could be routed, and their friend rescued. Jack must have been revolving the same daring scheme in his mind, for at this critical moment he nudged Ronie, whispering:

"Ready when you say the word, sergeant."

Our hero spoke hastily to Riva and his companion, who quickly comprehended what was wanted of them. Then the clear command of the young sergeant broke the stillness of the lonely scene:

"Ready, men, fire!"

In the twinkling of an eye the flashes of the Mausers lightened the night, and three of the leading riders reeled in their seats, while sudden commotion took place among the others.

"Forward – charge!" thundered Ronie, setting the example by dashing furiously from his covert. "Look sharp, Harrie; we are here to save you."

The animal bestridden by the young engineer began to snort and plunge excitedly, but Ronie was soon at its bit. His comrades were as swiftly charging upon the surprised insurgents, who, no doubt thinking they had been attacked by superior numbers, broke and retreated in wild disorder.

"Give them a parting shot, lads!" cried Jack, who, in his adventurous career had led more than one regiment upon an enemy.

The Mausers spoke right merrily, the reports mingling with the yells of the discomfited rebels, who fled down the road as fast as they could make their steeds go.

In the midst of this rout and confusion Ronie freed Harrie, but he had barely accomplished this before the thunder of horses' hoofs down the road suddenly increased in volume, and loud shouts reached their ears. The clatter of retreating horses abruptly stopped, and it was apparent to the scouts that the insurgents had come to a stand.