The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, October 17, 1894, Image 1
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M?S S?MTKK WATCHMAN, Established April, i860. "Be Just and Fear not-Let aiEthe Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God'sjand Truth's.'' THE TRUE SODTHKON, Established jone, 126G
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: g CHAPTER XXIX.
' TB_r E2?_> OFf?UAT2_toa
Now fox awhile we dwelt; in quiet at the
City of Pines, ana by slow degrees and
with much suffering M?overtdLfrom the
wounds that the ontdPffim- of De Garcia
had inflicted upon me. But we knew that
this peace could not last, and the people of
the Otomie knew it also?. ?or had.they not
scourged the envoys of MalLhche out of the ?
gates of their city? Many of them were
now sorry that this had been done, but it
was done, and they must reap as they had
sown. t
.So t_eymade ready for war, and Otomie
was the president of their connells, rn
which I shared. .At length ^eaxue news:
that a force of 59 Spaniards, with 5,000
Hascalan allies, were advancing on the
city to destroy us. Then I took command
of the tribesmen of "the Otontfe-there
were 10,000 or more %? them,"'alt w?tl
arxaed after their own fashion-and ad?
vanced ont of the city till I was two-thirds
of the way down the gorge which leads to
it BmVXdid n?t Irring a? my army down
this gorge, ?nce there-was no room for
them, to -ght there, and I had another
plan. I sent some 7,000 men round the
mountains, of which the secret paths were
well known to them, bidding them climb
to the crest of the precipices that bordered
either side of the gorge, and there, at cer?
tain places where the cliff is sheer and
more than 1, OOO feet in height, to make a
great provision of stones.
The rest of my army, excepting 600
whom I kept with me, I armed with bows
and throwing spears and stationed them
in ambush in convenient places where the
sides of the cliff were broken and in such
fashion thai rocks from above could not
be rolled on them. Then I sent trusty men
as spies to warn me of the approach of the
Spaniards and others whose mission it
was to offer themselves to them as guides.
Now, I thought my plan good, and every?
thing looked well, and yet it missed fail?
ure but by a very little, for Maxtla, our
enemy and the friend of the Spaniards,
was in iiry camp^indeed I hadrbwught
him with that I might watch him
and he had not been idle.
For when the Spaniards were half a
day's march from the month of the defile
one of those men whom I had told off to
watch their advance came to me and made
it known that Maxtla had bribed him to
go to the leader of the Spaniards and dis?
close to him the plan of the ambuscade.
This man had taken the bribe and started
on his errand of treachery, but his heart
failed him, and returning he told me alL
Then I caused Maxtla to be seized, and be?
fore* nightfall he had paid the price of his
wickedness.
On the morning after his death the
Spanish array entered the pass. Halfway
down it I met them with my 500 men and
engaged them, bot suffered them to drive
ns back with some loss. As they followed
they grew bolder, and we fled faster till at
length we flew down the defile, followed by
the Spanish horse. Now, some three fur?
longs from its mouth that leads to the City
of Pines this pass turns and narrows, and
here the cliffs are so sheer and high that a
twilight reigns at the foot of them.
Down the narrow way we ran in seem?
ing rout, and after us came the Spaniards
shouting on their saints and flushed with
victory. But scarcely had we turned the
corner when they sang another song, for
those who were watching 1,000 feet above
ns gave the signal, and down from on high
came a rain of stones and bowlders that
darkened the air and crashed among them,
crushing many of them.
On they struggled, seeing a wider way
in front where the cliffs sloped, and per?
haps half of them won through. But here
the archers were waiting, and now, in the
place of stones, arrows were hailed upon
them till at length, utterly bewildered
and unabl ? to strike a blow in their own
defense, they turned to fly toward the open
country. This finished the fight, for now
we assailed their flank, and once more the
rocks thundered on them from above, and
the end of it -eas that those who remained
of the Spaniards'and their Indian allies
were driven in utter-rout back to the plain
beyond the pass of Pines.
After this battle the Spaniards troubled. |
us no more for many years except by
threats, and my namer, graw great among
the people of the Otomie:
One Spaniard I rescued from death, and
afterward I gave him his liberty. From
him I inquired of the doings of De Garcia
or Sar ceda and learned that he was still in
the service of Cortes, but that Marina had
been true to her word and had brought dis?
grace upon him because he had threatened
to put Otomie to the torture. Moreover,
Cortes was angry with him because of our
escape, the burden of which Marina had
laid upon his shoulders, hinting that he
had taken a bribe to suffer us to pass the
gate.
Of the 14 years of my life which followed
the defeat of the Spaniards I can speak
briefly, for, compared to the time that had
gone before, they were years of quiet. In
them children were born to mc and Oto?
mie-three sons-and these children were
my great joy, for I loved them dearly, and
they loved me. Indeed, except for the
Efrain of their mother's blood, they were
English and not Indian, for I christened
them all and taught them our English
tongue and faith, and their mien and eyes
were more English than Indian, though
their skins were dark. . But I had no luck
?with these u?ar children ?? "minc "S?y
more than I have had with that which
Lily bore mc Two of them died-one
from a fever that all my still would
not avail to cure, and another by a fall
from a lofty cedar tree, which he climbed
searching for a kite's nest. Thus of the
three of them-since I do not speak now
of that infant, my firstborn, who perished
in the siege-there remained to me only
the eldest and best beloved, of whom I.
must tell hereafter.
For the rest, jointly with Otomie I was
named cazique of the City of Pines at a
great council that was held after I bad de?
stroyed the Spaniards and their allies, and
as such we had wide though not absolute
power. By the exercise of this power in
the end I succeeded in abolishing the hor?
rible rites of human sacrifice, though, be?
cause of this, a large number of the outly?
ing tribes felt away from our rule, and the
enmity of the priests was excited against
me. The last sacrifice, except one only, the
most terrible of them all, of which I will
tell afterward, that was ever celebrated on
the teocali! in front of the palace took
place after the defeat of the Spaniards in
the pass.
When I had dwelt three years in the
City of Pines and two sons had been born
to me there, secret messengers arrived
t?at were to be sent by the friei^ of-Gua?
temoc, who had survived the torture and
was still a prisoner in the I lands of Cortes.
From these messengers we learned-that
Cortes was about to start upon an expedi?
tion to the galt of Honduras, across the
country that is now* known as Yucatan,
taking Guatemoc and other Aztec nobles
with him, fori?, f?agt^ tojcftw^tiiem t?e
hind. We heard also that libere was much
murmuring among the con quered trines of
Anahuac because of the cruelties and ex?
tortions of the- Spaniards, and many
thought that ti? hour had come when a
rising against them might be carried to a
successful issue.
This was the prayer of those who sent
the envoys-tte* I should raise, a force of
Otomies and travel Withft across the coun?
try to Yucatan,and therewith others who
would be gathered' wait at?vorable op?
portunity to throw myself upon the Span?
iards when they were entangled in the
forests-and swamps, putting them to the
sword and releasing Guatemoc. Such was
tho first purpose of the plot, though it had
many others of which it is useless to speak,
seeing that they came to nothing.
When the message had been delivered, I
shook my head sadly, for I could see no
hope in such a scheme, but the chief of the
messengers rose and. led me aside, saying
that he had a word for my ear.
"Guatemoc sends these words, ' ' he said.
" 4I hear that you, my-brother, arc free and
safe with my cousin Otomie In the moun?
tains of the Otomie. I, alas, linger in the
prisons of the Teules like a crippled eagle
in a cage. My brother, if it is in your
power to help me, do so, I conjure you, by
the memory of our ancient friendship and
of all that we have suffered together.
Then a time may still come when I shall
rule again in ?nahuac, and you shall sit
at my side.' "
I heard, and my heart was stirred, for
then, as to this hour, I loved Guatemoc
as a brother.
"Go back," I said, "and find means to
tell Guatemoc that if I can save him I will,
Go bocfc," I said.
though I have small hopes that way. Still
let him look for me in the forests of Yuca?
tan."
Now, when Otomie heard of this prom?
ise of mine she was vexed, for she said
that it was foolish and would only end in
my losing my life. Still, having given it,
she held with me that it must be carried
out, and the end of it was that I raised 500
men, and with them set out upon my long
and toilsome march, which I timed so as
to meet Cortes, in the passes of Yucatan.
At the last moment Otomie wished to ac?
company me, but I forbade it, pointing
out that she could leave neither of her chil?
dren, and we parted with bitter grief for
the first time.
Of all thc hardships that I underwent I
will not write. For 2]4 months wc strug?
gled on across mountains and rivers and
through swamps and forests till at lact
we reached a mighty deserted city that is
called Palenque by the Indians off those
parts, which has been uninhabited for
many generations. This city is thc most
marvelous place that I hayo seen in all my
travels, though much of "it-is hidden in
bush, for wherever the traveler wanders
there he finds vast palaces of marble, car
yen within and without, and sculptural
teoeallis and the huge images of grinning
gods. Often have I wondered what na?
tion was strong enough to build such a
capital, and who were thc kings that dwelt
in it. But these are secrets belonging to
the past, and they cannot bo answered till
some learned man has found thc key to
the stone symbols and writings with
which the walls ott the buildings are cov?
ered over.
In this city I hid with my men, though
it was no easy task to persuade them to
take up their habitation among so many
ghosts of tho departed, not to speak of the
noisome fevers and the wild beasts and
snakes that haunted it, for I had informa?
tion that the Spaniards would pass through
the 6wamp that lies between the ruins and
the river, and there I hoped to ambush
them But on the eighth day of my hid?
ing I learned from spies that Cortes had
crossed the great river higher up and was
cutting his way through the forest, for of
swamps he had passed inore than enough.
So I hurried also to the river, intending to
cross it. But all that day and all that
night it rained as it can rain nowhere else
in the world that I have seen, till at last
we waded on our road knee deep in water,
and when we came to the ford ofthe river
it was T:? find a wide, roaringllooa t
no man could pass in anything less f
than a Yarmouth herring boat. So th
on the bank we must stay in misery, s
fering many ills from fever, lack of f?
and plentitude of water, till at length
stream ran down.
Three days and nights wo waited the
and on the fourth morning. I made si
to cross, losing four men by drowning
the passage. Once over, I hid my force
the bush and reeds and crept forward w
six men only to see if I could disco
anything of the whereabouts of the Sp
lards. Within an hour I struck the ti
that they had cut through the forest a
followed it cautiously. Presently we ca
to a spot where the forest was thin, a
here Cortes had camped, for there was h
left in the ashes of his fires, and ame
them lay the body of an Indian who 1
died from sickness. Not 50 yards fn
this camp stood a huge ceiba, a tree tl
has a habit of growth not unlike that
our English oak, though it is soft wood
and white barked and will increase m<
in bulk in 20 years than any oak moy
100.
Indeed I never yet saw an oak tree
large as this ceiba of which I write, eitl
in girth or in its spread of top, unless it
the Kirby oak or the tree that is called t
King of Scoto, which grows at Breon
that is the next parish to this of Ditchin
ham, in Norfolk. On this ceiba tree ma
zaphilotes or vultures were perched, and
we crept toward it I saw what it was th
came to seek, for from the lowest branch
of the ceiba three corpses swung in t
breeze. "Here are the Spaniards' foe
prints," I said "Let us look at them
and we passed beneath the shadow of tl
tree.
As I came, a zaphilote alighted on tl
head of the body that hung nearest to m
and its weight or the wafting of tl
fowl's wing caused the dead man to tm
round so that he came face to face wil
me. I looked, started back, then look?
again and sank to the earth groaning, fi
here was he whom I had come to seek an
save, my brother, Guatemoc, the last en
peror of Anahuac Here he hung in tl
dim and desolate forest, dead by the deal
of a thief, while the vulture shrieked upc
his head I sat bewildered and horn
stricken, and as I sat I remembered tl
proud sign of Aztec royalty, a bird of pre
clasping an adder in its claw. There b
fore me was the last of the stock, and, b
hold, a bird of prey gripped his hair in it
talons, a fitting emblem indeed of the fa
of Anahuac and the kings of Anahuac!
I sprang to my feet, with an oath, an
lifting the bowl held I sent an arro1
through the vulture, and it fell to the eart
flattering and screaming. Then I bad
those with me~ to cut down tue corpses c
Guatemoc and of the prince of Tacubaan
another noble who hung with him au
hollow a deep grave beneath the tree
There I laid them, and there I left thei
to sleep forever in its melancholy shadow
and thus for the last time I saw Guatemoc
my brother, whom I came far to save ant
found ready forlmrial by the Spaniard
Then I turned my face homeward, fo
now An?iuac hart no king to rescue, bu
it chanced that before I. wen 11 caught ?
Tlascalan who- could speak Spanish, an<
who had deserted from the army of Corte,
because of the^fiardsbipsKthat hesufferec
in their toilsome march: This man wai
present at the guider of Guatemoc ant
te-Oomp^famj^^'-lwad tho emperor'!
last words. It seems that some knav<
had betrayed to Cortes that an attempi
would be made to rescue the prince, anc
that thereon Cortes commanded that ht
fhould be hung. It seems also that Guate
moe met his death as; boh ad met the mis
fortunes of hik l?fe-^DBtmdly and withoul
fear. These were ms last words: "I did
ill, Malin che, when I held my band fr?re
taking my own life before I surrendered
myself to you. ^ Then my heart told mc
that all your promises were false, and it
has not lied to^p^'^VKiloome my death,
for I have lived to know, shame and defeat
and torture and to see my people the slaves
of the Teule, but still-I say that God will
reward you for this deed."
Then they murdered him in the midst of
a great silence.
And so farewell to Guatemoc, the most
brave, the best and the noblest Indian that
ever breathed,, and may the shadow of his
torm?n tings and shameful end lie deep up?
on the fame of Cortes for so long as the
names of both of them are remembered
among men!
For two mare months I journeyed home?
ward, and at length I reached the City of
Pines well, though wearied, and having
lost only 40 men by various misadventures,
to find Otomie in good health and over?
joyed to know me safe whom she thought
never to see again. But when I told her
what was the end of her cousin Guatemoc
6he grieved bitterly, both for his sake and
because the last hope of the Aztecs was
gone, and she would not be comforted for
many days.
CHAPTER XXX.
ISABELLA DE SIGUENZA IS AVENGED.
For many years after the death of Gua?
temoc I lived with Otomie at peace in the
City of Pines. Our country was poor and
rugged, and, though we defied thc Span?
iards and paid them no tribute, now that
Cortes had gone back to Spain they had no
heart to attempt our conquest. Save some
few tribes that lived in difficult places like
ourselves, all Anahuac was in their power,
and there was little to gain except hard
blows in the bringing bf a remnant of thc
people of thc Otomie beneath their yoke,
BO they let us be till a more convenient
season. I say of a remnant of tho Otomie,
for as time went on many clans submitted
to the Spaniards till at? length we ruled
over tho City of Pines alone and some
leagues of territory about it. Indeed it
was only love for Otomie and respect for
the shadow of her ancient race and name,
together with some reverence for me as one
of the unconquerable white men and for
my skill as a general, that kept our fol?
lowing together.
And so the years rolled on, bringing lit?
tle change with them, till I grew sure that
here in tills far place I should live and die.
But that was not to bo my fate.
If any should road this, the story of my
early life, he will remember that the tale
of the death of a certain Isabella de Sig
uenza is pieced into its motley. Ho will
remember how this Isabella, in the last
moments of her life, called down a curse
upon that holy father who added outrage
and insult to her torment, praying that he
might also die by the hands of fanatics
and in a worse fashion. After tho con?
quest of Anahuac by Cortes, among others
this same fiery priest came from Spain, to
turn the Indians to the love of God by tor?
ment and by sword. Indeed of all of those
who entered on this mission of peace he
was the most zealous. The Indian papas
wrought cruelties enough when,Htear:ng
out the victim's heart, they offered it like
incense to Huitzel or to Quetzal, but they
at least dismissed his soul to the mansions
of the sun. With tho Christian priests thc
thumbscrew and the stake took thc place
of the stone of sacrifice, but tho soul which
they delivered from its earthly bondage
they consigned to the house of hell.
Of these priests a certain Father Pedro
was the boldest and the most cruel. To
and fro he passed, marking his path with
the corpses of idolaters, until he earned
the name of the41 Christian devil." At
length he ventoed too far in his holy fer?
vor and was seized by a clan of tho Otomie
that had broken from our rule upon this
very question of human sacrifice, but
which was not yet subjugated by the Span .
lards. One day-it was when we had
ruled for some 14 years in the City of Pines
-it came to my knowledge that the pabas
of this clan had captured a Christian priest
and designed to offer him to the god Tez
cat.
Attended by a small guard only, I passed
rapidly across thc mountains, purposing
to visit the cazique of this clan, with
whom, although he. had cast off his alle?
giance to us, I still kept up a show of
friendship, and, if I could, to persuade
him to release the priest. But swiftly as I
traveled the vengeance of the pabas had
been more swift, and I arrived at the vil?
lage only to find the "Christian devil" in
the act of being led to sacrifice before the
Image of a hideous idol that was set upon
a stake and surrounded with piles of
skulls. Naked to the waist, his hands
bound behind him? his grizzled locks hang?
ing about hi? breast, his keen eyes fixed
upon the faces of his heathen foes in men?
ace rather than in supplication, his thin
lips muttering prayers, Father Pedro
passed on to the place of his doom, now
Father Pedro passed on to the place cjhls
doom.
and again shaking his head fiercely to free
himself from the torment of the insects
which buzzed about it
I looked upon him and wondered. I
looked again and knew. Suddenly there
rose before my mind a vision of that
gloomy vault in Seville of a woman, young
and lovely, draped in cerements, and of a
thin faced, black robed friar who smote
her upon the lips with his ivory crucifix
and cursed her for a blaspheming heretic.
There before me was the man. Isabella de
Siguenza had prayed that a fate like to
her own should befall him, and it was
upon him now. Nor indeed, remember?
ing all that had been, was I minded to
avert it, even if it had been in my power
to do so. I stood by and let the victim
pass, but as he passed I spoke to him in
Spanish, saying:
"Remember that which it may well be
you have forgotten, holy father. Remem?
ber now the dying prayer of Isabella de
Siguenza, whom many years ago you did
to death to Seville."
The man n??rd~me. He turned livid be?
neath his bronzed skin and staggered until
I thought that he would have fallen. He
stared upon me with terror in his eye to
see, as h? believed, a common sight enough
that of an Indian chief rejoicing at the
death of one of his oppressors.
"What devil are you," he said hoarsely,
4 'sent from hell to torment me at the last?
"Remember the dying prayer of Isabella
de Siguenza, whom you struck and
cursed," I answered, mocking. "Seek not
to know whence I am, but remember this
only, now and forever."
For a moment he stood still, heedless of
the urgings of his tormentors. Then his
courage came to him again, and he cried
with a great voice: 4 4 Get thee behind me,
satan. What have I to fear from thee?
remember that dead sinner well-may her
soul have peace-and her curse has fallen
upon T..?. I rejoice that it should be so,
for on the farther side of yonder stone the
gates of heaven open to my sight. Get thee
behind me, satan. What have I to fear
from thee?"
Crying thus, he staggered forward, say?
ing: 4'0 God, into thy hand I commend
my spirit!" May his soul have peace also,
for if he was cruel at least he was brave
and did not shrink beneath those torments
which he had inflicted on many others.
Now this was a little matter, but its re?
sults were large. Had I saved Father Pedro
from thc hands of tho pabas of the Oto?
mie it is likely enough that I should not
today be writing this history herc in thc
valley of thc Waveney. I do not know if
I could have saved him. I only know that
I did not try, and that because of his death
great sorrows came upon me. Whether I
was right or wrong, who can say? Those
who judge my story may think that in this
as in other matters I was wrong. Had
they seen Isabella de Siguenza die within
her living tomb certainly they would hold
that I was right. But for good or ill,
matters came about as I have written.
And it came.about also that the new
viceroy sent from Spain was stirred to an?
ger at the murder of tho friar by the rebel?
lious and heathen people of the Otomie
and set himself to take vengeance on the
tribe that wrought the deed.
Soon tidings reached me that a great
force of Tlascalan and other Indians were
being collected to put an end to us root
and branch, and that with them marched
more than a hundred Spaniards, thc expe?
dition being under the command of none
other than the Captain Bernai Diaz, that
same soldier whom I had spared in the
slaughter of tho noche triste, and whoso
sword to this day hung at my side.
Now wo must needs prepare our defense,
for our only hope lay in boldness. Once
before thc Spaniards had attacked us with
thousands of their allies, and of their num?
ber but few had lived to look again on the
camp of Cortes. What had been done
could bo dono for a second time-so said
Otomio in the pride of her unconquerable
heart. But, alas, in 14 years things had
changed much with us. Fourteen years
ago'we""held l?wayoveF? great district "bT
mountains, whose crude clans would send
up their warriors in hundreds at our call.
Now these clans had broken from our yoke,
which was acknowledged by the people of
the City of Pines alone and those of some
adjacent villages. When the Spaniards
came down on me the first time, I was
able to muster an army of 10,000 soldiers
to oppose them; now, with much toil, I
could collect no more than between 2,000
and 3,000 men, and of these some slipped
away as the hour of danger drew nigh.
Still I must put a bold face on my neces?
sities and make what play I might with
such forces as lay at my command,, al?
though in my heart I feared much for the
issue. But of my fears I said nothing to
Otomie, and if she felt any she, on her
part, buried them in her breast. In truth,
I do believe her faith in me was so great
that she thought my single wit enough to
overmatch all the armies of the Spaniards.
Now at length the enemy drew near,
and I set my battle as I had done 14 years
before, advancing down the pass by which
alone they could approach us with a small
portion of my force and stationing the re?
mainder in two equal companies upon
either brow of the beetling cliffs that over?
hung the road, having command to over?
whelm the Spaniards with rocks, hurled
upon them from above, so soon as I should
give the signal by flying before them down
tiie pass Other measures I took also, for
seeing that, do what I would, it might
happen that we should be driven back
upon the city, I caused its walls and gates
to be set in order and garrisoned them As
a last resource, too, I stored the lofty sum?
mit of the teocalli, which, now that sacri?
fices were no longer offered there, was used
as an arsenal for the material of war, with
water and provisions and fortified its sides
by walls studded with volcanic glass and
by other devices till it seemed well nigh
impossible that any should be able to force
them while a score of men still lived to
offer a defense.
It was on one night in the early sum?
mer, having bid farewell to Otomie and
taking my son with me, for be was now of
an age when, according to the Indian cus?
toms, lads are brought face to face with
the dangers of battle, that I dispatched
the appointed companies to their stations
on the brow of the precipice and sallied
into the darksome mouth of the pass with
the few hundred men who were left to me
I knew by my spies that the Spaniards
who were encamped on the farther side
would attempt its passage an hour before
the daylight, trusting to finding me asleep.
And, sure enough, on the following morn?
ing, so early that the first rays of the sun
had not yet stained the lofty snows of the
volcan Xaca that towered behind us, a
distant murmuring which echoed through
the silence of the night told me that the
enemy had begun his march. I moved
down the pass to meet him easily enough.
There was no stone in it that was not
known to me and my men. But with the
Spaniards it was otherwise, for many of
them were mounted, and, moreover, they
dragged with them two carronades. Time
upon time these heavy guns remained fast
in the bowlder strewn roadway, for in the
darkness the slaves who drew them could
find no places for the wheels to run on,
till in the end the captains of the army,
unwilling to risk a fight at so great a dis?
advantage, ordered them to halt until thc
day broke.
At length the dawn came, and the light
fell dimly down the depths of the vast
gulf, revealing the long ranks of the Span?
iards clad in their bright armor and the
yet more brilliant thousands of their na?
tive allies, gorgeous in their painted helms
and their glittering coats of feathers.
They saw us also, and mocking at our
poor array their column twisted forward
like some huge snake in the crack of a
rock till they came to within a hundred
paces of us. Then the Spaniards raised
their battlecry cf St. Peter, and lance at
rest they charged us with their horse. Wc
met them with a rain of arrows that
checked them a little, but not for long.
Soon they were among us, driving us
back at the point of their lances and slay?
ing many, for our Indian weapons could
work little harm to men and horses clad
in armor. Therefore we must fly, and in?
deed flight was my plan, for by it I hoped
to lead the foe to that part of the defile
where the road was narrow and the cliffs
sheer, and they might be crushed by tho
6tones which should hail on them from
above AU went well. Wc fled. The Span- I
lards followed, flushed with victory, till
they were fairly in the trap. Now a single
bowlder came rushing from on high, and
falling on a horse killed him, then, re?
bounding, carried dismay and wounds to
those behind Another followed, and yet
another, and I grew glad at heart, for it
seemed to me that thc danger was over,
and that for the second time my strategy
had succeeded.
But suddenly from above there came a
sound other than that of thc rushing rocks,
the sound of men joining in battle, that
grew till the air was full of its tumult;
then something whirled down from on
high. I looked. It was no stone, but a
man, one of my own men. Indeed he
was but as the first raindrop of a shower.
Alas, I saw tho truth! I had been out?
witted The Spaniards, old in war, could
not be caught twice by such a trick. They
advanced down the pass with the carron?
ades indeed, because they must, but first
they sent great bodies of men to climb the
mountain under shelter of thc r.ight by se?
cret paths which had been discovered to
j them, and there on its summit to deal
I with those who would stay their passage
i by hurling rocks upon them.
And in truth they dealt with them but
too well, for my men of thc Otomie, lying
i on the verge of the cliff among thc scrub
of aloes and other prickly plants that grew
there, watching the advance of the foe be?
neath and never for one moment dream?
ing that foes might be upon their flank,
were utterly surprised Scarcely had they
time to seize their weapons, which were
laid at their sides that they might have j
the greater freedom in tho rolling of heavy ;
masses of rock, when the enemy, who out- !
numbered them by far, were upon them
with a yell. Then came a fight, short, but
decisive.
Highest of all in Leavening POT
Too late I saw it all and cursed the
folly that had not provided against such
chances, for indeed I never thought it pos?
sible that the forces of the Spaniards could
find the secret trails upon the farther side
of the mountain, forgetting that treason
makes most things possible.
CHAPTER XXXL
THE SIEGE OF THE CITY OF PI2OS.
The battle was already lost. From ;?
thousand feet- above us swelled the shouts
of victory. The battle was lost, and yet I
must fight on. As swiftly as I could I
withdrew those who were left to me to a
certain angle in the path, where a score of
desperate men might for awhile hold back
the advance of an army. Here I called for
some to stand at my side, and many an?
swered to my call. Out of them I chose
50 men or more, bidding the rest run hard
for the City of Pines, there to warn those
who were left in garrison that the hour of
danger was upon them, and, should I fall,
to conjure Otomie, my wife, to make the
best resistance in her power till, if it were
possible, she could wring from the Span?
iards a promise of safety for herself, her
child and her people. Meanwhile I could
hold the pass so that time might be given
to shut the gates and man the walls. With
the main body of those who were left to
me I sent back my son, though he prayed
hard to be allowed to stay with me. But,
seeing nothing- before me except death, I
refused him.
Presently all were gone, and fearing a
snare the Spaniards came slowly and cau?
tiously round the angle of the rock, and
seeing so few men mustered to meet them,
halted, for now they were certain that we
had set a trap for them, since they did not
think it possible that such a little band
would venture to oppose their array. Here
the ground lay so that only a few of them
could come against us at one time, nor
could they bring their heavy pieces to bear
upon us, and even their arquebuses helped
them but little; also thc roughness of the
road forced them to dismount from their
horses, so that if they would attack at all
it must be on foot. This in the end they
chose to do. Many fell upon either side,
though I myself received no wound, but in
the end they drove us back; inch by inch
they drove us back, or rather those who
were left of us, at the points of their long
lances, till at length they forced us into
tho mouth of the* pass that is some five
furlongs distant from what was once the
wall of the City of Pines.
To fight further was of no avail. Here
we must choose between death and flight,
and, as may be guessed, for wives' and
children's sake, if not for our own, we
chose to fly. Across the plain we fled like
deer, and after us came the Spaniards and
their allies like hounds. Happily the
ground was rough with stones, so that their
horses could not gallop freely, and thus it
happened that some of us. perhaps 20,
gained the gates in safety. Of my army
not more than 500 in all lived to enter
them again, and perchance there were as
many left within the city.
The heavy gates swung to, and scarcely
were they barred with the massive beams
of oak when the foremost of thc Spaniards
rode up to them. My bow was still in my
hand, and there was one arrow left in my
quiver. I set it on the string, and draw?
ing the bow with my full strength I loosed
the shaft through the bars of the gate at a
young and gallant looking cavalier who
rode the first of all.
It struck him truly between the joint of
his helm and neckpiece, and stretching his
arms out wide he fell over the crupper of
his horse to move no more. Then they
withdrew, but presently one of their hum?
ber came forward bearing a flag of truce.
He was a knightly looking man, clad in
rich armor, and watching him it seemed
to mc that there was something in his
bearing and in the careless grace with
which he sat his horse that was familiar to
me. Reining up in front of the gates, he
raised his visor and began to speak.
I knew him at once. Before me was De
Garcia, my enemy, of whom I bad neither
seen nor heard anything for hard upon 12
years. Time had touched him indeed,
which was scarcely to bo wondered at, for
now he was a man of 60 or more. His
peaked chestnut colored beard was streaked
with gray, his checks were hollow, and at
that distance his lips seemed like two thin
red lines, but the eyes were as they had al?
ways been, bright and piercing, and the
same cold smile played about his mouth.
Without a doubt it was De Garcia, who
now, as at every crisis of my life, appeared
to shape my fortunes to some evil end, and
I felt as I looked upon him that the last
and greatest struggle between us was at
band, and that before many days were
sped thc ancient and accumulated hate of
one or both of us would be buried forever
in the silence of death. How ill had fate
dealt with mp now, as always! But a few
minutes before, when I set that arrow on
the string, I had wavered for ? moment,
doubting whether to loose it at the young
cavalier who lay dead or at thc knight who
rode next to 1dm, and see. I had slain ono
with whom I had no quarrel and left my
enemy unharmed!
"Ho, there!" cried De Garcia in Spanish.
"I desire to speak with the leader of the?
rebel Otomie on behalf of the Captain Ber?
nai Diaz, who commands this army"
Now I mounted on the .rall by means ;
of a ladder which was at hand and an
swered, "Speak on; I am the man you
seek."
"You know Spanish well, friend, said
De Garcia, starting and looking at mc
keenly beneath his bent brows. *1 Say now,
where did you learn it? And what is
your name and lineage?' '
"I learned it, Juan de Garcia, from a
certain Donna Luisa, whom you knew in
your days of youth. And my name is
Thomas Wingfield. ' '
Now Dc Garcia reeled in his saddle and
swore a great oath. ^-r*9"
''Mother of God!" he said. "Years ago I
was told that you had taken up your abode
among some savage tribe, but since then
I have been far, to Spain and back indeed,
and I deemed that you were dead, Thomas
Wingfield. My~??ck"*is "good, in truth, for
it has been one of the great sorrows of my
life that you have so often escaped me,
renejrade. Be "ire that this time there
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