"Forward, March": A Tale of the Spanish-American War

Therefore the camp was in a state of expectancy even before the new-comers were challenged by its outpost, and as del Concha had long since been recognized, they received a cordial greeting. The wounded girl was at once taken to a commodious hut, where she could be cared for by nurses of her own sex, while a substantial breakfast, roughly cooked and of the simplest character, was made ready for the two men. It was served on the ground just outside the hut of the Cuban General commanding the camp and its few hundreds of ragged soldiers. This officer expressed great joy upon learning from Ridge that an American army was about to land in Cuba, and promised to harass any expedition sent against it from Holguin.

After breakfast, while del Concha was gone to inquire concerning his sweetheart, the General took Ridge to his private observatory, a superb palm, occupying an eminence, and towering above the surrounding forest. From its leafy crown one could look directly down on Holguin and, with a good glass, clearly discern the movements of its garrison.

While thus alone with the General our young trooper asked questions about del Concha.

"He is one of the bravest and most patriotic of Cubans," declared the other, warmly. "No one has done more than he to advance our cause."

"Has he ever been suspected of being a Spanish spy?" asked Ridge.

"Certainly not, señor. Such a question is almost an insult."

"Yet the lieutenant has good cause for his inquiry," said del Concha himself, who joined them at that moment. "Moreover, he is entitled to an explanation from me, which I will hasten to give before he shall demand it."

"It will afford me great pleasure to hear it," said Ridge, "for some of your recent actions have been, to say the least, very puzzling."

"As, for instance, when I denounced you to General Pando. Certainly you must have thought badly of me at that time. I did it, however, to save both you and myself, since shortly after you left us I learned that one of my troop had deserted for the purpose of betraying you to the Spanish General, who, he hoped and believed, would give him a liberal reward for so doing. As Pando supposes me to be one of his agents–in which capacity, by-the-way, I have been able to render valuable service to Cuba–"

"Indeed, yes," muttered the General.

"–I saw at once," continued del Concha, "that in order to save us both I must forestall the deserter and do the denouncing myself. You witnessed the result in the reception accorded the man when he appeared with his stale news, and are aware of his fate."

"No, I am not," said Ridge.

"Did you not hear the volley by which he was shot within one minute after being led from Pando's presence?"

"Was that it?" asked the young American, in an awe-stricken tone.

"Certainly; and served him exactly right, too. Also saved me the job of punishing him. After that, and after you had been removed, Pando confided to me that, as yours was a perfectly clear case, he should not bother Blanco with it, but should promptly dispose of it by having you shot at sunrise. He also honored me with a mission to Santiago, on which he desired that I should set forth immediately. I of course accepted, only with a mental resolve to take you along, and this, with Eva's help, I was in a fair way to accomplish when the dear girl received her terrible wound."

"Bless her!" exclaimed Ridge, fervently, now fully realizing for the first time all that had been done for him. "I hope, with all my heart, that her wound is not serious."

"I fear it is, though for the present she seems quite comfortable."

"And you are going to Santiago?"

"Not one step beyond this point until she is out of danger."

"But I must go," said Ridge, decidedly.

"Certainly; and I have a competent guide ready to start at any moment, and conduct you on the next stage of your journey."

CHAPTER XV

DIONYSIO CAPTURES A SPANIARD

While Ridge was greatly disappointed at losing the guidance and companionship of the young Cuban, in whom his confidence was now wholly restored, he could not, under the circumstances, urge him to go farther, nor did he dare longer delay his own journey. With Señorita, all his belongings, including his undelivered despatches, and the money stolen when he was captured by del Concha, had been restored to him. So he now added to his outfit a grass-woven hammock that he purchased in the refugee camp, and was then ready to set forth.

The new guide awaiting him was a coal-black negro named Dionysio, who was of such huge stature that the other Cubans seemed pygmies beside him. He was armed only with a great machete, ground to exceeding sharpness, and he disdained to ride a horse, declaring that he could, on foot, cover a greater distance in less time than any horse on the island, which Ridge was able to credit after a short experience with his ebony guide. Besides, being a big man and a very strong one, Dionysio was a silent man, as taciturn as an Indian, and never spoke except upon necessity.

When Ridge was introduced to him he was sitting in the shade of a corojo-palm, smoking a cigarette and lovingly fingering the razor-like edge of his machete.

"This is the Señor Americano whom you are to guide to Jiguani, and afterwards, if he requires it, to Santiago," said del Concha,

Dionysio looked keenly at Ridge, but uttered no word.

"He is ready to start."

The negro stood up, to signify that he was also ready.

"You will not let the Spaniards kill him," Dionysio tapped his machete significantly.

"Well, my friend, adios," said del Concha, "and may you come safely to your journey's end!"

Accepting this farewell as a signal to move, the black giant set forth at a swinging pace, and, in order not to lose sight of him, Ridge was obliged instantly to follow. In another minute, therefore, they had crossed the clearing, plunged again into the forest, and the refugee camp was as lost to their view as though it had not existed.

The silent guide bore on his shoulders a burden of yams rolled in a hammock, but it in no way interfered with the freedom of his movements. For miles he maintained, up hill and down, the same speed with which he had set out, and which so taxed Señorita's endurance that Ridge was finally forced to call a halt. The heat of the sun was by this time intense, while the forest steamed from a succession of brief but drenching showers that had swept over it since they started.

As Dionysio comprehended what was wanted he proceeded, without a word, to construct a small bower of branches and palm leaves, beneath which he slung Ridge's hammock. The young trooper's eyes were so leaden with sleep that he had no sooner slipped into this than he was lost in a dreamless slumber.

When he next awoke, greatly refreshed by his long nap, the great heat of the day was past, and the shadows of coming evening produced a pleasant coolness. For a few minutes Ridge lay in a state of lazy content, gazing with languid interest at his surroundings. The sky, so far as he could see it, was cloudless, the crisp leaves of a tall palm close at hand rustled in a light breeze like the patter of rain, gayly plumaged paroquets and nonpareils flitted across his line of vision, and the air was filled with the pleasant odor of burning wood, mingled with the fragrance of a cigarette that Dionysio smoked while squatted on his heels before a small fire. A little beyond, Señorita, tethered to a tree, cropped at a small patch of coarse grass, and–but Ridge could not credit his senses until he had rubbed his eyes vigorously to make sure that they were doing their duty–another horse was sharing the grass-plot with her. As he assured himself of this, Ridge sat up, and was about to demand an explanation of the negro, when his question was checked by another sight still more amazing.

A human figure staring fixedly at him with glaring eyes was rigidly bound to the trunk of a near-by tree. It was that of a young man in the uniform of a Spanish officer. His face was covered with blood, upon which a swarm of flies had settled, and he was so securely fastened that he could not move hand nor foot. He was also gagged so that he could make no sound beyond an inarticulate groan, which he uttered when he saw that Ridge was awake and looking at him.

With an exclamation of dismay the young American leaped from his hammock. At the same moment Dionysio rose to his feet with a broad grin on his black face, and spoke for the first time since Ridge had made his acquaintance.

"Him Holguin Spaniard," he said, pointing to the prisoner. "Me catch him. Keep him for Americano to kill. Now you shoot him."

Thus saying, the negro handed Ridge a loaded pistol that he had taken from the Spaniard, and then stepped aside with an air of ferocious expectancy to note with what skill the latter would fire at the human target thus provided.

Mechanically Ridge accepted the weapon, and with blazing eyes strode towards the hapless Spaniard, who uttered a groan of agony, evidently believing that his last moment had arrived. As the young trooper passed the place where Dionysio had squatted, he snatched the negro's big machete from the ground.

At this the latter chuckled with delight, evidently believing that the blood-thirsty Americano was about to hew his victim in pieces, an operation that, to him, would be vastly more entertaining than a mere shooting. Then he stared in bewilderment; for, instead of cutting the prisoner down, Ridge began to sever the lashings by which he was bound. As the keen-edged machete cut through the last of these, the released man fell forward in a faint, and the young American, catching him in his arms, laid him on the sward. "Bring water!" he ordered, with a sharp tone of authority, and the negro obeyed.

"You no kill him?" he asked, as he watched Ridge bathe the blood from the unconscious man's face.

"Not now," was the evasive answer. "Where did you get him?"

Little by little, one word at a time, he gained from the taciturn negro an idea of what had taken place while he slept. It seemed that, while he had followed rough mountain trails in his roundabout course to and from the refugee camp, there was a much better road to which they had closely approached, when he was forced by exhaustion to call a halt. After he fell asleep, Dionysio, going for water to a spring that he knew of, had detected a sound of hoof-beats advancing along this road from the direction of Holguin. Concealing himself near the spring, he waited until the horseman, a Spanish officer, rode up to it. Then he leaped upon the man, dragged him to the ground, and had him secured almost before the astonished officer knew what was happening. He was also dazed by a wound in the head received as he was hurled from his horse.

Dionysio was on the point of killing him, as he had many a Spaniard, but reflecting that the Americano whom he was guiding would doubtless enjoy that pleasure, he generously decided to yield it to him and reserve the victim until Ridge should finish his nap. So, after gagging the Spaniard, that he might not disturb him who slept, Dionysio flung him across his shoulder and carried him to camp. There he secured him to a tree so that Ridge might see him upon awakening, and then calmly resumed his duties as camp cook and sentry. The unfortunate prisoner, wounded, bound, and powerless to move or speak, tormented by heat and insects, and parched by a burning thirst, had thus suffered for hours, while the young American who was to kill him slept close at hand, blissfully unaware of his presence.

As Ridge pityingly cleansed the face of this enemy whose present sufferings had been terminated by unconsciousness, he all at once recognized it as that of the officer who had conveyed him from General Pando's quarters to the guard-house in Holguin. At the same time, noting a slight rustle of paper somewhere in the man's clothing, he began a search for it, and finally discovered a despatch in an official envelope. Carefully opening this without breaking the seal, he found it to contain two papers. One was a personal note from General Pando to the Spanish commander at Jiguani, calling his attention to the other, which was an order to set forth at once with his entire force for Santiago, where an American army was about to land, and where he would be joined by 5000 troops from Holguin.

"This is interesting," commented Ridge, "and of course must not be allowed to reach its destination. So I will just put in its place my Carranza despatch to this same gentleman, informing him that the Americans are to land at Cienfuegos. It will have added weight if it appears to come from General Pando, and will surely start him off in a direction where he can do no harm.

"I wonder, though, what I had best do with you," he continued, meditatively, addressing the unconscious form beside him. "Of course you will recognize me as soon as you are able to sit up and take notice. Of course, also, I can't kill you in cold blood; nor can I turn you over to the tender mercies of Dionysio, for that would amount to exactly the same thing. I don't dare let you go, and I can't be bothered with you as a prisoner; so what on earth I am to do with you I'm sure I don't know. I almost wish you wouldn't wake up at all."

Just here, owing to Ridge's kindly ministrations, the cause of his perplexity opened his eyes, looked the young American full in the face, and smiled a faint smile in which recognition and gratitude were equally blended.

CHAPTER XVI

ASLEEP WHILE ON GUARD

Of course there was no further thought of continuing the journey that evening, for the Spanish officer was in no condition to travel, and our young trooper was not one to desert even an enemy who was helpless and in distress. So he informed Dionysio that they would remain where they were until morning, and ordered him to make things as comfortable as possible for the night.

"You no kill him?" asked the negro, who had regarded his companion's actions of the past half hour with evident disfavor.

"Not to-night," replied Ridge. "I am going to save him until morning. He will be stronger then, and in a better condition to afford us entertainment. Besides, I want time to think out the best way of doing it."

"To-morrow you kill him?" persisted the other.

"Perhaps. That is, if I have hit upon a good plan. Something novel and interesting, you know."

"You no kill him, me kill him," muttered Dionysio, as he sullenly began to make preparations for the night.

The remark, though not intended for the young American, still reached his ears and caused him a feeling of uneasiness.

"I believe you would, you black devil," he said to himself, "but you sha'n't commit your cowardly murder if I can help it." Then he again turned his attention to the prisoner, who was by this time sitting up and regarding his captors curiously.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked, as Ridge rejoined him.

"No, of course not. What put such an idea into your head?"

"Because it so often happens that undesirable prisoners are disposed of in that way. You know I was ordered to have one shot only last night at just about this hour."

"Was it last night?" murmured Ridge. "It seems a month ago." Then he added, aloud, "Yes, I know, for I recognize you as Lieutenant Navarro, the officer who brought in the deserter, disposed of him according to General Pando's order, and then conducted me to prison."

"For which reason I should think you would now want to kill me," said the other, with a smile.

"We Americans are not in the habit of killing persons merely for obedience to orders."

"You are an American, then?"

"Yes," admitted Ridge, "and I thought you knew I was one."

"I was not certain, nor was the General, though he was determined to be on the safe side, and have you placed beyond a chance of making mischief."

"So I understood," laughed Ridge, "and for that reason I came away without waiting to say good-bye."

"Your escape raised an awful row," said the other, "and the General is furious over it. Swears he will hang every man, woman, or child connected with it if he discovers who aided you. Do you care to tell me how it was effected?"

"No," was the prompt reply, "I do not."

"I didn't suppose you would. At the same time I am greatly interested in it, especially as it caused me to be sent on my present mission. General Pando feared that you might make the same attempt at Jiguani as at Holguin. So I was ordered to get there first and have a reception prepared for you. Now, having failed to carry out his instructions, I do not know that I should dare present myself before him again, even if you should set me free, which, of course, is something not to be hoped for. What do you propose to do with me, anyway?"

"I don't know," replied Ridge, "but we will consider the situation after supper, which I see is ready."

The simple meal of roasted yams, which in war time was the principal article of food known to Cuban campaigners, was quickly eaten, and the two young men, already regarding each other more as friends than enemies, renewed their conversation.

"I am not anxious to resume my connection with General Pando's army in any case," began Lieutenant Navarro, "since it is about to march against your countrymen, whom I esteem highly."

"Why?" asked Ridge. "Were you ever in my country?"

"Yes, and quite recently. You see, I have some distant cousins of my own name living in New Mexico, and only a year ago I paid them a visit. I was so charmed with the country, and so cordially welcomed, that I expressed a desire to remain with them and become a citizen of the United States, They encouraged the idea, and offered me an interest in a great ranch, where one of them, Maximilian by name, who is about my own age, proposed to become my partner. I accepted the offer, declared my intention of becoming a citizen before the proper authorities, and then returned to Spain to settle up my home affairs and procure money for my new undertaking.

"Unfortunately I had not served out my full military term, and before I could purchase exemption for the remaining time, there was a call for more troops to quell this miserable insurrection, and I was ordered with Blanco, the new Captain-General, to Cuba. Of course I don't mind fighting Cubans, whom I detest; but I do object to fighting against those whom I already consider as my adopted countrymen, especially as I have recently learned that the cousin with whom I was to go into business has joined the American army."

"Maximilian Navarro of New Mexico!" exclaimed Ridge. "Why, I know him well. He is a captain in my own regiment, the First Volunteer Cavalry–the Rough Riders, as we are called. I saw him only five days ago, and hope soon to meet him again, before Santiago."

"Then are we friends rather than enemies!" cried the young Spaniard, grasping the other's hand, "and I will go with you to meet my cousin."

"Would you go as a deserter?"

"No, but as a prisoner of war under your protection."

"Of course," replied Ridge, who had just gained an inspiration. "A prisoner of war on parole, for you will give me your promise not to serve against the United States unless exchanged, will you not?"

"Most willingly," replied the other.

"But," continued Ridge, "if I take you to your cousin, I want you first to do me a favor."

"Gladly."

"And before I give you my whole confidence you must earn it."

"If it lies within my power, I will do so."

"Very good," said Ridge. "According to our laws, you are a citizen of the United States from having filed your intention to become one. Therefore, while not desiring you to fight against your native land, I am going to ask you to prove your loyalty to your adopted country by aiding my present mission."

"How may I do so?"

"By continuing your journey to Jiguani, delivering your despatches, which, by-the-way, I have examined; procuring for me a Spanish uniform, and meeting me two days later at Enramada. From there we will go together into Santiago, where you shall introduce me as your friend. Then will come my turn; for when the Americans land we will join them, and I shall take pleasure in presenting you to my friends as my friend. Will you undertake to do this?"

"Señor Teniente, I will," answered the young Spaniard, "and there is my hand on it. One thing, however, I must ask," he continued. "How will you deliver me from the hate of yonder black devil by the fire? But for you he would have taken my life long since, and when he discovers that you do not intend to kill me, he will assuredly make an attempt to do so."

"I have no doubt he would if he had a chance," replied Ridge, "but we must take turns at watching, and see that he doesn't get one. I will remain on guard the first half of the night, since you need sleep more than I, and will also show how fully I trust you by restoring your pistol."

"Your confidence will not be misplaced, señor."

With these arrangements perfected, the little camp sank into quiet, the only sounds being the chirping of insects, the harsh cries of night birds, and those made by the horses, which occasionally snorted at some fancied alarm. The two white men lay in their respective hammocks under the rude thatch of palm leaves, while Dionysio occupied a similar but smaller shelter beyond the fire.

For a long time Ridge watched the flicker of its flames, until they finally died down, and the darkness was only illumined by the fitful flashing of fire-flies. As these were the most brilliant he had ever seen, his eyes followed their zig-zag dartings until they exercised a hypnotic influence, and his heavy breathing showed him to be fast asleep.

A few minutes later the occupant of the other hammock lifted his head and listened. Then he slipped noiselessly to the ground and disappeared in the profound darkness at the back of the hut. For an hour longer the peace of the camp was unbroken. At the end of that time one of the horses snorted more loudly than usual, while the other dropped heavily to the ground as though lying down.

After awhile, if Ridge had been awake, he might have noted a slight rustling in the grass, as though some animal were making a cautious way through it towards the hut. But his slumber was too profound to be easily broken, and no instinct warned him of approaching danger.

The rustling drew closer, until it sounded within a few feet of the unconscious sleeper. Then a black bulk slowly lifted from the ground, and gradually assumed the proportions of a man standing motionless. Of a sudden this figure, whose blurred outlines were barely discernible, made a quick movement, and the hammock of the young Spaniard was cut in twain by the sweeping blow of a machete.

At the same moment a pistol-shot rang out, followed by another and another. There was a smothered yell, a rush of feet, a brief struggle from the place where the horses were tethered, a crash, and directly afterwards Señorita, trembling in every limb, made her way to where her young master stood, as he had leaped from his hammock, dazed, and uncertain what to do.

CHAPTER XVII

IN THE HANDS OP SPANISH GUERILLAS

In addition to his alarm, Ridge was overcome with a guilty knowledge of having fallen asleep while on guard. Of course, he felt certain that he had only closed his eyes for a minute; but in that minute something dreadful, for which he was responsible, had happened. He had no idea what it was, but imagined the worst, and was greatly relieved to hear the voice of his prisoner-comrade at his side.

"What on earth–" he began; but just then Señorita dashed up to him in a state of terror, and for the moment demanded his attention. As he soothed her he called loudly for Dionysio, but there was no response.

"I am afraid he has escaped," said the young Spaniard, in rather a faint voice, from the ground, to which he had dropped exhausted by weakness and the intense strain of the past few hours. "He tried to kill me, you know."

"Tried to kill you!" exclaimed Ridge, incredulously. "But wait a moment. We must have a light. This darkness is awful."

Thus saying, he stepped to where a few coals of the camp-fire still smouldered, and began to throw on sticks, which, after a little coaxing, sprang into a bright blaze. By its light he detected two dark forms lying motionless a short distance away, and, with pistol held ready for action, went to discover their nature.