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  CHAPTER VIII

  THE TRAITOR

  Grahame was awakened by a crash. Springing half asleep from his berth,he scrambled out on deck. Thick darkness enveloped the steamer and atfirst he could see nothing. Then as his eyes grew accustomed to thegloom, he made out indistinct black trees in the mist. They were slidingpast and he knew the warp had broken and the _Enchantress_ would swinginshore before her cable brought her up. This must be prevented, ifpossible, for the creek was narrow and shoal.

  Jumping on the stern grating he gave his orders, and they were obeyed.He saw Macallister, in pajamas, dive into the engine-room, and the screwbegan to throb; then barefooted men sprang into the boat alongside, anda heavy rope ran out across the rail. There was nothing more to be donefor a few moments and, lashing the wheel, Grahame hurriedly lighted apyrotechnic flare. The strong blue radiance drove back the gloom, andthe water glittered among cakes of floating scum. Then the bright beampicked out the boat, with Walthew toiling, half-naked, at an oar, andMiguel's tall figure bending to and fro as he sculled astern. Anotherman was rowing forward, and his tense pose told of determined effort,but he vanished as the light moved on.

  The rope the crew were taking out fixed Grahame's attention. It crawledthrough the water in heavy coils, like a snake, holding the boat backwhile the stream swept her sideways. He did not think she could reachthe opposite bank, though the _Enchantress_ was sheering that way tohelp her. Then the light forced up a patch of greasy mud in whichcrawling things wriggled, and, passing on, picked out foul, dark cavesamong the mangrove roots. After that, it touched the rows of slendertrunks and was lost in impenetrable gloom.

  A few moments later the flare, burning low, scorched Grahame's fingersand he flung it over the rail. It fell with a hiss into the creek andbewildering darkness shut down. There was now no guide but the strain onthe helm, and Grahame began to be afraid of breaking out the anchor. Fora time the splash of oars continued, telling of the tense struggle thatwent on in the gloom, but it stopped suddenly and he knew the men werebeaten. Ringing off the engines, he ran forward with a deckhand to dropthe kedge anchor. It was heavy, an arm was foul of something, and theycould not drag it clear, until a dim object appeared close by.

  "Heave!" cried a breathless voice. "Handy, noo! Away she goes!"

  There was a splash and a rattle as the chain ran out, a thud as thereturning boat came alongside, and then the vessel quivered, listed downon one side, and became motionless.

  "I'm thinking she's hard and fast, but we'll try to shake her off,"Macallister said and vanished, and soon the engines began to turn.

  The _Enchantress_ trembled, straining hard and rattling, but whensomebody lighted the cargo-lamp, which still hung from a boom, it couldnot be seen that she moved. The light showed a narrow stretch of water,sliding past, blotched with foul brown foam. Then it fell upon theboat's crew, who had come on board, and Grahame saw that Walthew wasgasping for breath. His flushed face was wet and drawn with effort, andhis bare arms and neck were marked by small red spots.

  "Sorry we couldn't manage to reach the bank," he panted. "Warp keptgetting across her and the stream was running fast. But I'd better helpMack."

  "Sit still a minute," Grahame said. "What are those marks on your neck?"

  "Mosquito bites, I guess. Hadn't time to swat the brutes; they werepretty fierce."

  The deck was now slanting steeply, and Grahame, looking over the rail,saw a wet strip a foot broad between the dry planks and the water.

  "You can tell Mack to shut off steam," he said. "She's here until nexttide and I'm not certain we can float her then."

  The engines stopped, there was by contrast a curious stillness, and themen went below; but Grahame spent some time studying a chart of thecoast and a nautical almanac before he went to sleep.

  * * * * *

  When the cases had been safely landed, the little group of Spaniards andhalf-breeds separated, some following the coastline going south, othersfinding a narrow path that led through the jungle beyond themangrove-trees. Bio, the peon pilot, lingered behind. There was nomoon, but the night was not really dark, for the sky was jeweled withstars which covered the earth with a soft, mystic radiance.

  When the footsteps of the others had died away and the night was quiet,Bio started slowly down the jungle path. It opened out into a flatstretch of sandy land and then was lost in a plantation of coffee-trees.Beyond the coffee plantation was an uncultivated space known to thenatives as _La colina del sol_ (The Hill of the Sun) because of the manybroad rocks upon which the sun beat down in all its intensity. Here andthere a wild date-palm grew, and an occasional clump of bananas; butexcept for that the hill was covered with low shrubbery and a blanket oftrailing vines, which now were wet with the dew.

  Bio went directly to one of the rocks and stood upon it looking upwardat the stars. The warmth that still remained in the rock was pleasant tohis damp, bare feet. The air about him was filled with the soft flutterof moths and other honey-seekers; the heavy perfume of a white jasminecame to him, mingled with the sweet odor of the night-blooming cereus.At his side an insect chirped, and above him a whistling frog gaveanswer.

  These wild night sounds found quick response in Bio's Indian blood. Withan odd little smile of content, he stretched out on the rock tolisten--and to sleep. At high tide he would have to return to take theboat out of Mangrove Creek; what better place to wait than _La colinadel sol_?

  He awakened shortly after daybreak, very hungry; but he knew where hecould get a pleasant breakfast before returning to the boat. With acomfortable yawn and stretch, he left the rock and pattered off downthe hill to a path that led to the main road. A half mile down thisstood a little adobe house owned by a Spaniard who was suspected ofsympathizing with the revolutionists although he had many friends amongthe _rurales_.

  When Bio reached the house he gave his customary signal--a stick drawnharshly across the iron gratings at the window; and the door was soonopened by Filodomo himself. A hasty conversation followed, and Bio wentback to the kitchen while Filodomo aroused his daughter. And when theblack-eyed Rosita came tripping out, with the flush of sleep still onher, Bio all but forgot the _yanqui_ senores and their boat which waitedin Mangrove Creek.

  He was enjoying his breakfast so much, indeed, that he did not hearFilodomo talking loudly in the front room. Rosita was more alert. Shepaused a moment to listen, and then the laughter in her eyes changed toquick alarm.

  "_Los rurales!_" she whispered.

  Bio was on his feet instantly. The _rurales_ had several counts againsthim, and he knew what his life would be worth if he were caught. Rosita,too, seemed to know. She led him quickly to the low window and pointedto a narrow path that led through a field of cane. Bio lost no time. Ashe disappeared among the green stalks, the girl gave a sigh of relief;and then hurried into the front room to put the _rurales_ off his path.

  Bio made his way quickly but cautiously through the cane-field, meaningto double back to _La colina del sol_; but as he left the cane androunded a gigantic calabash-tree he ran directly into the arms of twoyoung _rurales_.

  "Not so fast, my friend," said one of them, grabbing him.

  "Bio!" exclaimed the other.

  And Bio knew there was no hope of escape. The _rurales_ were only tooeager for the credit of capturing him and taking him to headquarters.

  Four days later he found himself in a military camp and was led at onceto the officer in charge. During all the questions of the _rurales_ hehad maintained a sullen silence; but now he was forced to speak.

  "We are told that the revolutionists are getting rifles from a littleboat that lands them at impossible places," the officer said. "Only apilot with your knowledge of the coast could bring in such a boat. Tellus what you know!"

  Bio did not answer.

  The officer leaned forward threateningly.

  "We have enough charges against you to warrant our shooting you on thespot," he said. "You will never see another sunrise, unle
ss you tellus--and tell us quickly, and truthfully!"

  A gleam of hope crept into Bio's eyes.

  "And if I tell you--all?"

  "Then, if I believe you, you will be set at liberty."

  There was a sneer in the conditional clause that made Bio's blood runcold for an instant; but it seemed his only chance of escape, and hebegan haltingly but in a tone that they could not doubt was the truth.

  "I left the boat far up in Mangrove Creek," he ended. "I think the_yanqui_ senores cannot take her out."

  "Tell Morales to have the mules ready at once!" the officer ordered."The quickest road?" he asked Bio.

  The pilot answered without faltering. The road he told them was twice asfar as over _La colina del sol_ and through the jungle path.

  The officer consulted a few moments with the _rurales_ who had broughtBio in, and then gave his decision.

  "My men will not need you. You will be held in camp for one day and thenset at liberty. I am a man of my word!"

  Bio could hardly believe his good luck, although he frowned anxiously atthat one day's detention. Silently he followed his guards; but, as heexpected, he found them very lax after the first hour or two. Longbefore midnight he was snaking his way noiselessly through theunderbrush that surrounded the camp.

  And in the meantime the _rurales_ were riding furiously along the roadthat led to Mangrove Creek.