CHAPTER XXVI.
THE HARVEST OF THE KNIFE.
With similar fortitude, the American and his associate had resisted therain in the best shelter the rocks afforded. At least, the relentlessdownpour had prevented any completion of the mounting of the piece,and it was not till full day, after the Apache chief had triumphantlybrought the Mexican back to the encampment, amid the _vivas_ of therebels, that Garcia's cannoneers had obtained the fitting elevation.
This done, the robber lieutenant applied his cigar, after having puffedit into active incandescence, to the piece of slow match stuck in therusty touchhole, and embedded there with ample powder to ensure theignition.
Gladsden gave the hunter an appealing look, but the latter's face wasimmobile as a statue's. He had, therefore, to control his throbbingheart as best he might, whilst the match spluttered and hissed likea serpent, and lessened in length. All eyes were fastened upon thefarmhouse, and the unutterably deep silence which pervaded thethousands of enemies to the beset handful was most impressive.
Hardly had a few seconds, which seemed minutes to all concerned, fledaway, than the spark reached the powder; there was a faint flash, thena much brighter and broader one, and with a gush of flame, as at theopening of an iron furnace door, the old gun awoke from its centuries'repose, with the roar of a menagerie lion that was at last releasedfrom captivity.
Through the rolling smoke the huge round stone, which had been chosenfor bullet, sped noisily in an arc of trajectory which gave senorStefano much credit, and crashed into the farmhouse a little below theroof edge, knocking three little bits of windows into one broad gap.
An immense shout of savage joy hailed this result, and even thebystanders, injured by the splinters of the logs, smashed by the recoilof the gun, forgot their hurts in the success.
Gladsden had leaned forward out of the covert, and seemed on the vergeof seeking to avenge this hurling of death in amid the Mexican's home;but the American placed both hands on his shoulders, and dragged himback and downwards.
"Wait!" said he, grimly. "Before they fire a second ball, our turn toplay comes in. They will leave powder round loose, will they? I'll show'em! You jes' hold your hosses--I'll show 'em to shoot at women andchildren."
Indeed, there was plenty of time for the planning and execution ofa countermeasure, for the remounting of the forty pounder, thoughcheerfully, even merrily, performed, was a lengthy labour.
Mr. Gladsden, chafing at his impotence, fixed his eyes on thefarmhouse, where the great hole seemed to reproach him for thisinaction. There did appear at its edges what seemed men at thatdistance, but the Yaquis immediately showered stones and darts on theserepairers, who shortly retired.
The unfortunate victims of the bombardment would have no choice but toput the women in the cellars and perish in the ruins, or sally out at adisadvantage when the cannon rendered the place quite untenable.
In the meantime, Oliver, calculating with much exactitude the timerequired by the Mexicans and their assistants to replace the gun onits rests, was splitting a length of old pine in halves; this done, hehollowed out the centre with his knife, and soon had a pair of troughswhich served very fairly as rocket tubes. As soon as he had finished,his jogging the elbow of the Englishman for him to look, set the latterto comprehend in part the hunter's intention.
He aided him eagerly to lay the rockets in the hollow of the wood,itself supported firmly between the stones, the mouth directed withall the care he would have given a shot on which life depended at thepowder canisters.
It is true that several horses and men came between the mark andthe two projectiles, but their iron heads would make light of suchobstacles, perhaps.
Enthusiastic at the great result of the first discharge, many of theYaquis swarmed up the slope to see the second discharge more closely,and, spite of orders from the guard of the robber captain, theyclustered so as to almost impede the smiling cannoneer in his secondessay.
Three of the Apaches on their horses on one side, and half a dozenMexicans charged them slowly to bear them back. An opening was madethereby, a vista from the two watchers, even to the cannon and itsammunition pile.
"It is the time! Touch off!" whispered Oliver.
The Englishman gave him a fusee out of his cigar lights box, andkindled one himself simultaneously. The two, with one and the samemovement, clapped them to the rocket matches, which they had pinchedoff short, and blew at the flames to accelerate the burning.
Engrossed in the application of the fire to the cannon, none of theenemy heard this slight crepitation, or saw the thin sparks on thebarranca's crest.
Almost immediately the match was blazing within each case, and,covering the two whites with a shower of sparks, the rockets, slowlyat first, but soon far distancing the initial velocity, traversed theintervening space, and deflecting towards the ground, rushed noisilythrough the little group of robbers, Apaches, Yaquis and leaders,into the very heap of powder. The explosion occurred, but, not in theleast pausing, the rockets continued an erratic flight, ploughing upthe ground, ricocheting, separating, crossing and joining, diffusingsilver and ruddy golden fireballs, and thus careering among the amazedmultitude till the cases fell as blackened coals.
Meanwhile, the powder which was loose had flared up and frightened thehorses; then the open tins burst and showered the ground with flaringrain. The full tins went off like bombs, and one of them, dislocatingthe arrangement of timber under the gun, upset the whole pile. Thecannon, of which the match had been uninterruptedly burning, went offwhilst thus overturned, and the stone ball, perforating a herd of theYaquis, split in three pieces, which fell upon the upturned, curiousfaces of their fellows beneath the hill.
"I'm inclined to b'lieve," remarked Oliver, drawing his revolver, "thatthe folks on the farm hev' seen our rockets go off at last."
Whilst the smoke was enshrouding the hill top, and the ground stillquaking, the mounted men who had not been unsaddled, using both handsto restrain their terrified steeds, and the unhurt savages flying toand fro and against one another in great consternation, the rocketshad been truly taken for their signal of action by both the Mexicanparties, however far divided.
Out of the wood debouched the mounted Mexicans, shaking theirbanneretted lances as if they were reeds, and shouting "Mexicoforever!" As they came on, well thinned out, their swiftness gave themthe appearance of a much more numerous column.
"The soldiers! The soldiers from Ures!" screamed the Yaquis in thehollow. "Look out for yourselves! The lancers are coming!"
On seeing them in confusion, and shrinking back from all sides so asto form a serried mass under the walls of the hacienda, don Benito anddon Jorge, each at the head of a troop, dashed out of the corral at themain portal and the secret one, and executed a dreadful double chargeto the cry of "Down with the rebels!"
The shock of the pretended lancers and the hacendero's followers onopposite sides of the insurgents' agitated ranks, occasioned a combat;but when the horsemen, with spear or cutlass, were intermingled withthe footmen, it became slaughter. Neither side craved for mercy, andthey fought as only men can fight who were either masters who feared tolose the upper hand of subjects, or slaves who were seeking reprisalsfor wrongs inflicted on anterior generations.
Whenever the swaying of the mob brought a mass near the hacienda or itsstockade, all the defenders within, to whom were added the women, armedwith obsolete firearms, musketry, and blunderbusses, fired upon them,and added not inconsiderably to the dismay and butchery.
In the interval, on the summit of the hill, where the smoke stilllingered from the explosions, the salteadores had sought to punish therocket dischargers, whom they had perceived in the rocks and under thepine stumps. It is true that the Englishman had most imprudently stoodup in order to see what really was the extent of the damage done. TheApaches, at a word from Iron Shirt, had descended the hill towards thehacienda, rallying their own comrades preparatory to a prudent drawingoff with all the livestock which might be added to th
eir previouslycollected droves. They considered the battle lost to them on seeingthe immovable Yaquis struck with panic, an emotion which extendedwith marvellous rapidity even to those on the other side of the farm,entirely unaffected by actual danger.
Stunned by the cannon report, a noise too great of its kind to haveever come within their experience, the banditti's horses were found tobe unmanageable, and they had alighted, all but their maimed leader,whose steed was less incapable of guidance, to punish the authors ofthe disaster which had turned the tide.
Three times they made a rush at the natural bulwarks in full beliefthat they could hurl the paltry opposition over, a-down the ravine; buteach time their retreat was marked by a line of corpses. So near a markwas fatal to the heavy thirty-eight calibre repeaters.
"This is the second time you are running agen this snag," taunted thehunter, with that bitter loquacity common to him and Indians in thefever of combat, "but come on agen! Bless you, that's on'y an appetiserto the pie to foller! Thar's roast ribs the next dish! Come and sweepthe platter--only two tender chickens left, and plenty of gravy! Docome now, while the offer is open! Did any gentleman say, 'Mercy!'Well, I'm not sparing white skunks today! P'raps you're only drawingour fire--loafing round tell we haven't a cartridge left! Yes, do walkup for a grapple and a hug--we are only the worst kickers you everseen, that's all."
All this sarcasm was echoed by Pedrillo; his fury was indescribable, tosay nothing of the effects of the native brandy which had been givenhim as a remedy after his prostration under the fear of death. Whenhe recognised the Englishman, all the pent up rage of fifteen yearsinspired him, and his _absent leg_ ached again as lively as when ithad been torn off by the shark. The _gringo_, who had sunk his ship,after having run away with his bride and his cruiser; who had taken thetreasure which the law of robbers assigned to the captain in good part;this impudent spoilsport again had marred the consummation of vengeanceupon his fellow foe, don Benito. He cast all prudence aside; he himselfadvanced with his surviving men prominently.
"We'll bury them in the dry _arroyo_!" he yelled, foaming at themouth, and his wooden leg beating the horse's shoulder in his feverishconvulsions. "Down with them."
What was their surprise to see the two men leap disdainfully over theirbreastwork, and stride towards the eight or ten Mexicans with revolverand knife in hand, spurning the dead and wounded due to the samewell-plied weapons.
The bandits slackened their pace, but the mounted leader, stillcontinuing, advanced beyond them. They resumed their charge. Butalready that separation had resolved Gladsden. Forgetting that hehad been enjoined to keep side by side with the American as long asthey faced the Rustlers, and, when the chance-medley came, to standback to back with him, he sprang quickly onward. The now frightenedPedrillo aimed at him a terrible sweeping blow of a long sword, suchanother as the hapless _guitarero_ had employed in the tavern. And,though Gladsden parried it partially with his knife, the glancing bladecleft his left shoulder. Stung by the pain, the Englishman dropped theknife out of the hand, already benumbed by the cut, and seizing theprotruding wooden leg of the luckless Terror of the Border, appliedhimself with such extraordinary vigour to tearing the wretch out of thesaddle, that leg, man or saddle, was bound to come. It was the leg gaveway at its straps, while Pedrillo was howling with agony and clingingto the saddlebow, leaning with all his might contrariwise to the tug.On the unexpected release, the captain fell heavily over the horse andlay senseless on the ground, which he had reached headfirst. Gladsdencaught the flying reins, and bounded upon the steed; as it flew forwardin fright, two of the salteadores were shouldered aside, and thecaptain trodden upon by the hinder hoof; but he made no move, neverso much as groaned, he had died as much from fright as anguish. Thismagnificent feat of _arms_, if the seizure of the nether limb could beso denominated, completely demoralised the robbers.
But some of the most courageous Yaquis, and an Apache who had lost akinsman in the explosion as well as a war pony, which he more or lessgreatly prized, saw the white men victorious and the Rustlers about tofly, with a deeper chagrin and enmity. They collected, by a commonimpulse, and hemmed in the pair. At their first shot, Gladsden wasunhorsed, the animal falling dead under him; had it not reared at thesmart of an arrow, the succeeding missiles, which entered its breast,must have riddled the rider. He and the American once more stoodtogether with only that warm carcase as their buckler to some thirtyfoes.
Neither hugged any delusion as to the future. It was materiallyimpossible that with their cartridges all spent, they couldsuccessfully resist so many inveterate foes, who, too, would, at anymoment, be reinforced without stint from the Yaquis on the hill.
Indeed, thereupon commenced, with the rush of the Indians, one of thoseunequal contests which are common on the border, and which, when aworthy poet shall arise, will show posterity at what a waste of gallanthearts civilisation has executed its conquests.
Mute, sombre, back to back so closely that the penetrating lance wouldhave spitted the pair, never recoiling so much as a hand's breadth,plying the hunting knife for the one, and the sword of Pedrillo in hisvictor's grasp for the other, the unflinching couple, like a Janusanimated, held out against the ever-onsetting foe.
Any other enemies must have been impressed with admiration.
Their bared arms were hacked and slit; the left of Gladsden hungdisabled; but, on that side, Oliver's formidable right hand wasperforming miracles of valour and dexterity enough for both. Theystreamed with blood, which matted their locks and soaked their clothes,dangling in tatters through which their fair skin momently gleamed inglaring contrast with that of their dusky foes until dyed ruddy likethe rest.
"How goes it, pard.?" queried Oliver, in a kind of lull in the rainof cuts, and blows, and thrusts which nothing but the very frenzy ofthe Indians, each to deal the stroke, prevented being fatal a hundredtimes. "I'm gitting my second wind myself and can go on carving tillmorning!"
There was no response to the jest; but the Oregonian felt the firm bodythat had been ever so long a rock of support, slowly weighing upon him.Then, alarmed for the very first time, or rather instantly inspiredwith sympathy and wild indignation at the injustice of so brave a mansuccumbing under the blows of such ignoble creatures, he lifted hisvoice as an appeal to the rectifier of such abuses, in his restrictedmind:
"Cuss ye, for a heap of dirty niggers!" he vociferated. "Six at a timewe'd have butchered you up harnsum! Whoop-ho! Will no one of the colourof a white man let us have ten minutes to recruit; when we'll thrashthem all agen, honest Injin!"
A deep, hoarse laugh at the speech, not at all understood, was thereply.
But a cry of terror was elsewhere audible.
"Something's coming, my _cahooter_ (partner)," said Oliver, redoublinghis gigantic sweeps of the buffalo-butchering knife. "And never morewas a friend welcome! Don't you lose your grip yet!"
Indeed, without being able to discern the features of the knot ofcombatants on the hill, under the blue canopy of floating smoke, allsilent since the two whites had exhausted their ammunition, and theclose ring of their assailants forbade their employing firearms, donBenito and his son, with a score of best riders, had taken the cow pathand somehow climbed the incline. Coming upon the crest at a littledistance from the barranca, they formed column, four abreast, and racedto the spot of the hand-to-hand struggle.
"Viva Mexico!" was their continuous war cry, with the ancient "Rallyaround Spain!"
"Oh, _viva_ anything in the way of a 'Co,'" muttered Oliver, receivinghis spent and insensible friend on his arm, and depositing him behindthe horse's body at his feet. "You're like the sogers, you've come whenthe Injins took the scalps."
Happily the attackers turned at this fresh incident.
Opening out so as to allow the hind ranks to rush forward and form aline with the rest, the cavalry fell upon the Indians, and sabred themin the first dash past. As soon as they could wheel, which was done onthe edge of the barranca by sharp reining in and spinning round whilstth
e horse's fore hoofs were in air, they returned at full speed. But,already, the Yaquis had renounced their wish to finish with the twowhites and fled, flinging away their weapons not to encumber theirflight.
Alone, wounded, but stubborn, the Apache kneeling, took aim with hisenvenomed hatchet at the head of Oregon Oliver, intending to castit ere he should be trampled under the Mexicans. The hunter coulddo nothing, his brain swam, his eyes closed with their last visioncomprising the exultant visage of the malicious red man; his knifeslipped out of his gore-smeared and stiffening hand; he reeled, andthen, like a giant pine uprooted by a "norther," fell upon the body ofhis comrade as if to be his shield to the very last. There was just amoan, like a puma's that had defended its cub to the death.
At the same instant, the tomahawk whizzed forward and would haveinfallibly fleshed itself in him ere he finally rested; but Benitohad buried his spurs in his steed, which took a prodigious leap. Thehatchet gashed the Mexican's leg, even as he stooped forward and drovehis reeking blade to the cross hilt in the bosom of the redskin.
Don Jorge dismounted, and hastened to lift up the two white men, oneafter the other, and force some brandy down their throats. Meanwhiletwo of their friends had ridden after his father, who was seen to havelost control of his steed.
A silence fell on the hill, broken only by moans of the wounded andcalls for water.
All at once there rose a loud cheering at the farmhouse; on its roofthe ladies had collected and were waving scarves and veils. And, asan explanation, there was shortly wafted over the valley the musicof a cavalry band, strong in brass and kettledrum, playing a lively_Arragonese jota_. The gay notes grated on the nerves of the Mexicanson the hill, collected round the sad group of the two whites and donBenito, whom they had assisted off his horse.
"The dragoons from the town," observed one of the party. "That crownsthe day. In an hour there will not be one Yaqui within view of atelescope."
In fact, the valley was already strewn with plunder, and the dead andthe wounded not capable of flight, but of living Indians hardly ahundred. The revolt was over. Then the field was again animated afterthis transient desertion, for Father Serafino, with peons carryinghandbarrows, came forth to attend to the wounded. Upon improvisedlitters of lances, the European, Oliver, and Benito, all mute and quietfor want of strength, were tenderly transported down the hill and upinto the hacienda hall.
The little hero of the Angelito was displaced from his throne, thedecorations removed, and the room became a hospital. The ladies hadassumed a simple dress befitting their suddenly imposed duty, and wereobeying the orders of the father, who had a knowledge of surgery, likeall missionaries.