XV.
IN DESPERATE STRUGGLE FOR LIFE.
Don Rodrigo and his soldiers were surprised. I dealt the one nearestme a terrific blow in the face. Don Rodrigo raised his hand to fire. Iknocked his gun from his hand. The other soldier thrust at me with hisbayonet, inflicting a severe scalp wound, which along with anotherthrust at me with his bayonet in my left arm, gave him time torecover. I struck the soldier in the face, and knocked him to thefloor. The other was coming at me, when Manuel, armed with a shovel,brought it down with terrific force on his head.
By this time the engine was going at lightning speed, having reached adown grade of 160 feet to the mile. The throttle was wide open. I knewwe would soon reach some sharp curves and if the speed was notchecked, the engine would jump the track. I called to Manuel to shutoff the steam, and apply the brakes. At this time I was strugglingwith Don Rodrigo for life or death. We had clinched one another. Ispoke once.
"Recuerdo Felicita," I hissed in his ear.
He did not speak. He was never a physical match for me, but at thismoment he seemed endowed with superhuman strength. His face took onthe awful look of desperation, that comes to men when death seems nearat hand. His lithe body struggled to be free of my grasp. He tried totrip me and just then the engine rounded a sharp curve causing him tostagger. The side door of the coach was open. For a moment he vainlytried to catch hold of something, and then, with a shriek upon hislips, fell from the speeding coach.
The struggle had lasted but a short time, but it had seemed to mehours. Manuel bandaged my head and arm. The two soldiers remainedperfectly passive, suffering from severe blows. The one felled byManuel was still unconscious.
We were within three miles of Pucacancha, rounding a sharp curve, whenI looked back and exclaimed: "My God, Manuel, the troop train iscoming!" My blood almost froze, but realizing that this was no timefor fright, I determined to master the situation.
I knew the two soldiers would not attempt to molest us. They hadlearned a lesson. I looked at my watch. In five minutes the passenger,if on time, would be at Pucacancha. The troop train could not reachthere for fifteen minutes, because at all obscure places it would haveto go slow for fear of meeting obstructions on the track.
I reached Pucacancha, stopping far enough back to allow the passengerto pull up and back on the side track. The siding had only one switch,chiefly used for ballast for the road bed. I looked anxiously for thepassenger. Seconds dragged like hours. Would she never come? There wasa curve not far from the station, and the passenger could not be seenuntil it almost reached it. I listened. I could hear the lowtremulous noise of the rails, a puff of black smoke went up frombehind the curve--at last it was in view, engine No. 8. On seeing methe engineer came to a sudden stop. I hurriedly told him what to do.He was to back onto the siding and let me pass, then pull out andfollow me back to Pampa de Avieras, where I told him the governmenttroops would surely be. Our plans were quickly executed. I determinedthat should the troop train come before I could get by the passenger,Manuel and I would desert the Arequipena, start her back with a fullhead of steam, and cause a collision. No doubt there would have beenloss of life, but it would have given an opportunity to escape bygoing on the passenger train.
Dobbie, the engineer, succeeded well in backing into the clear. Notseeing the troop train, I ran with a hammer and spike when he left theswitch with the Arequipena ahead of him and spiked the track. Justthen the troop train came in sight. I hurriedly boarded theArequipena and started, Dobbie backing up at fast as he could.
There were several officers on the engine of the troop train, and whenthey saw us they compelled the engineer to increase his speed, withthe result he could not check his train in time to stop it fromrunning into the switch. His engine jumped the track half buryingitself in the ground.
We arrived at Pampa de Avieras and the government troops came thirtyminutes later. I was beginning to get weak from loss of blood. My leftarm seemed to be a dead weight, and the muscles were painful andswollen. The people from the passenger train crowded about me and dideverything in their power to relieve my suffering. The soldier who hadbeen struck with the shovel came out of his stupor.
I was lying in the coach of the Arequipena, when the commandingofficer of the government troops came to see me. After detailing thestory to him, I turned over fourteen rifles, ten revolvers, and sevenswords, all the cartridges and barrels of powder, together with thethree soldiers whom I pleaded for, stating that compulsion was thecause of their joining the insurgents. I insisted on their hurrying toSumbay bridge, although I told him they did not have anything now withwhich to destroy the bridge. However, they could post their troopsshould they arrive first and be in position to command the approaches.After leaving me, he ordered his troops forward.
I was getting weaker and weaker. At last orders came to go to Arequipawith the Arequipena. The station master telegraphed to have a doctorready for me on my arrival. It was nearly forty miles from Pampa deAvieras to Arequipa, mostly down grade. I had to give the engine up toManuel, as the pain in my arm became so intense I had to lie down. Thestation at Arequipa was crowded back to the street, the news havingbeen telegraphed by the officer in command of the government troops. Icould hear cries of "Viva Juancita!" that being my name in Spanish.
The people in Arequipa were loyal to the existing government. Thegeneral manager met me with the doctor. His eyes were full of tearswhen he saw me. I presented a horrible and bloody appearance, thewound in my head still bleeding, my left arm in a sling and my clothesalmost in rags.
I was carried from the coach by four of my friends to my room wherethe faithful Chico had everything prepared. Cries of "Viva Juancita!"rent the air from the time I left the coach until the doctor requestedsilence. Manuel was taken home by his friends. The poor people,ignorant of the revolution, but knowing by the demonstration thatsomething unusual had happened, realized that he had done somethingdeserving recognition.
My friends grouped about with tear-dimmed eyes, and warmly pressed myhand. Chico, looking at me with a most sympathetic expression on hisIndian features, did not restrain his tears. For days I tossed inpain and delirium.
One day when the general manager came, he told me that anotherengineer who had taken out the Arequipena to repair the telegraph,came up with a body of the insurgents who were going to surrender, butthey intended to kill him first thinking he was I. Only the timelyinterposition of one who knew him, saved his life. The insurgents hadgot their engine back on the track after much time and labor, but itwas damaged and as they were out of water, they gave up hope ofwinning their cause.
The train bearing the government troops stopped when within a fewmiles of Vincocaya, where they picked up the body of Don RodrigoGarcia and buried it near the track. He would have exulted over mydeath, but I cannot say that I felt any satisfaction because he wasdead. It only brought sad memories of the past.