The Motor Scout: A Story of Adventure in South America

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XV

  THE RAID ON SAN ROSARIO

  Tim was flushed with elation at his victory. With boyish impetuosity hehad flung himself into the affair without a thought of consequences. Hehad driven away the interloper and regained possession of his father'shouse: a feat of which he was inclined to be proud. As to the futurehis mind was blank.

  He was helping himself to some of the dainties on the table in thedining-room when Romana rushed into the house.

  "I'm here first, you see," said Tim, with a laugh. "Pardo has runaway."

  "Por Dios, senorito! are you mad?" cried the man. "We shall have thePrefect's men from the town upon us in little more than an hour. Comeaway at once. We can take horses and ride into the hills before theycatch us."

  "Wait a little," said Tim, sobered in a moment as he realised for thefirst time what his impulsive action involved. "I can't run away andleave the Japs to face it. It was all my fault."

  "They must take their chance. They can hide in the plantations to-nightand make off to-morrow. There will be no more work for them here."

  "But they can't get away in such a terrific hurry with their familiesand belongings. The Prefect's men would hunt them down and serve themas they've sometimes served the Indians. I'm responsible for them."

  "This is folly!" cried Romana, who was much agitated. "You can donothing for them. There are not enough horses to carry them with us tothe hills, even if they could ride, and they would be overtaken if theycame on foot. Come, senorito, there is no time to lose."

  "Don't talk: let me think," said Tim, leaning forward with his elbows onthe table and his head between his hands.

  He was fully enlightened now. He saw what his rash act had led to.These eighty Japanese labourers were not merely mutinous "hands"; theywould be regarded as rebels commanded by an acknowledged Mollendist. Hewas responsible for them, and he knew enough about the Prefect's temperto be sure that they would meet with no mercy at his hands. What couldhe do for them? As soon as Pardo reached the town and told his storythere, without doubt a company of gendarmes and troopers would ride outintent on vengeance. The situation seemed desperate.

  Gone was now all feeling of triumph. Tim was simply miserable. Itwould be useless to bring the Japanese into the house and attempt todefend it. Even if they could maintain their position for a time theycould not beat off the enemy with bill-hooks against rifles, and beforelong hundreds more would be summoned from San Juan. And then he startedup at a sudden recollection. Durand had told him that there were but ahundred of the Prefect's men in San Rosario. The others were dividedbetween San Juan and the camp in the hills. Was it possible to lead theJapanese into the town, swoop down upon the garrison, diminished by thedespatch of troopers to the hacienda, and at least arm his men? Itwould be a desperate adventure, one not to be undertaken in cold blood;but the men were seething with excitement and jubilant at their success;and while they were in this temper they might be capable of actionswhich at another time would appal them.

  He jumped up and looked round for Romana. Seeing that he was not in theroom, he ran out into the patio and called for him. Romana hurried infrom the dark.

  "I have two horses at the door, senorito," he said.

  "Where are the Japs?" asked Tim.

  "Out on the lawn. They are mad with joy. Come, senorito."

  "I am going to lead them to the town," cried Tim, brushing past him andgoing out through the shattered door. Romana stood for a momentparalysed with amazement, then followed Tim, who was hurrying towardsthe crowd. He heard him tell them what he intended to do; he heard themshout with enthusiasm; then he rushed back to the house, sprang on oneof the horses, and galloped away into the darkness.

  Tim explained to the men in detail, as quickly as the points occurred tohim, what course he proposed to take. He would march rapidly to thetown, enter by the east end, the quietest quarter, and lead them to thebarracks. Only a few men were there; and if the attackers movedquietly, they might hope to surprise the garrison, seize the building,and supply themselves with arms from the armoury. He knew that some ofthe workers had pistols. These he sent to their huts to fetch theirweapons, bidding them run all the way there and back. There was not amoment to lose; it was now a quarter of an hour since Pardo fled; bythis time he was probably a third of the way to the town.

  Impressing on the men that haste and silence were essential, Timreturned to the house in search of Romana. But Romana was not to befound. Seeing one horse where there had been two just before, Tim leaptto the conclusion that the man had taken fright and made good his ownescape. His lip curled with disdain of his cowardice. He found BiddyFlanagan, told her to keep the servants quiet and attend to CaptainPierola, who lay wounded on the floor of the patio, then picked up therifles which the gendarmes had cast aside in their hasty flight, andcarried them out to the men. A few minutes afterwards he put himself atthe head of the column, now increased by a score of Cholos, eager toshare in the adventure, and set off at a rapid pace along the track toSan Rosario.

  He had spoken boldly and cheerfully to the men, but his mind was darkwith misgiving. He could not be charged with lack of forethought now.As he marched his brain was busy. Nobody in San Rosario would dream ofthe audacious movement he was leading; no special guard would bemaintained at the barracks; with the advantage of surprise he felt thata sudden swift onslaught might win the place. But what then? In a dayor two at the most he would be besieged by an overwhelming force, and,unless aided by a popular rising against the Prefect, his little band ofuntrained men must be annihilated. The one consolation was that by apreliminary success he would certainly gain time; and recollecting thatthe Japanese, if they had remained on the plantation, or fled over theopen country, would have been at the mercy of pursuing cavalry, he feltthat the course he had chosen was the wisest in the circumstances.

  After marching for nearly a mile along the track, he struck off to theleft, over a marshy wilderness that lay between it and the highroad eastof the town. By this time, no doubt, a detachment of mounted men wasalready riding out to deal with the mutiny. Pardo would have seen tothat. They would follow the direct path; it was essential that theyshould neither see nor hear the body of men hastening in the oppositedirection.

  Ten minutes after he had quitted the track, he heard the thud of hoofsand the clinking of metal in the distance. He instantly called a halt,waited until the sounds had dwindled away behind him, then hurried onstill more rapidly than before. The diminution of the garrison wouldrender his task easier; but it was important that he should accomplishit before the horsemen, finding that the birds were flown, had time toreturn to the town. Luckily he knew every yard of the ground, and chosehis route unerringly even before the distant lights of San Rosario cameinto view to give him guidance.

  Fifty minutes after starting he reached the eastern outskirts of thetown. This was the best quarter. A few substantial houses werescattered irregularly, surrounded by their gardens, and separated bycrooked streets and lanes which all debouched upon the plaza. It was inone of these streets, on the opposite side of the plaza from thegobernador's house, that the barracks were situated--a large two-storeybuilding, once a mansion, but now reserved for the accommodation of thegendarmes and the irregular troops of the Prefect whenever greatoccasions brought them from San Juan. The outlying streets werestrangely quiet, though a murmurous hum came from the direction of theplaza. Choosing the narrowest and least frequented lane, Tim led hissilent force to the end of the street of the barracks.

  Meanwhile the centre of the town was in a ferment of excitement. Thearrival of the fugitives with news of the revolt led by the outlawedIngles, the attack on the house, the murder (thus it was exaggerated) ofCaptain Pierola, was like the coming of a whirlwind. The wildestrumours flew through the town, and the whole populace flocked into theplaza to discuss them. One of the two lieutenants in the barracksimmediately set off with a troop for
the hacienda; the other, summonedfrom the house where he had been dining, sent a second troop into theplaza to keep order and check any revolutionary demonstration to whichthe news of the outbreak might give rise. Thus all things conspired tofavour the bold plan which Tim had conceived.

  The barracks occupied almost the whole of one side of the short street.Wide gates gave entrance to an open porch that cut the building in two.It was flanked on both sides by the lower floor, devoted to stores.Staircases led to the upper floor, in which were, on one side thequarters of the men, on the other the guardroom and armoury. Both rightand left a palisaded balcony overlooked the porch. Beyond this was along rectangular patio, bounded on three sides by the stables. Thepatio was surrounded by a high wall abutting on the gardens of thesurrounding villas.

  During the daytime the front gates were constantly open, and a sentrymarched up and down the porch between the street and the patio. Atnight they were shut, and the sentry occupied his box just within. Timhad debated on the way whether to scale the rear wall or to rush thefront entrance, and decided that the latter course had the betterpromise of success. The wall was spiked; if they safely surmounted it,to descend on the stable roof would cause a commotion among the horses,and before they could reach the main building they would have to crossthe whole width of the patio, perhaps in the face of a hot fire. If thefront gates were shut, the wicket would no doubt be opened in answer toa knock. Then his plan was to seize and silence the sentry, and sendhis men up the stairs, if possible before the alarm was given.

  He halted at the end of the street, which was not overlooked by houses,and glanced up it towards the plaza. To his surprise and joy he saw abar of light across the roadway at the position of the gates. They wereopen: evidently the surprising events of the evening had led to amodification or the neglect of the usual arrangements. The street wasempty. Passing word along the line that the men were to follow at hisheels as quickly as possible, he rushed along towards the open gates.

  Within the porch the sentry at his box was talking to two of hiscomrades who, with their coats loosened, were leaning over the railingof the balcony on the guardroom side. The attackers had come within afew yards of the gates before the sound of their hurrying feet wasaudible above the hum of the excited crowd in the plaza. It awakened noalarm or suspicion; but the sentry moved leisurely to the street to seewhat was happening. He had just reached the gates when, before he couldcry out, he was hurled to the ground, and a crowd of men dashed past andover him into the porch. The two men above stared in bewilderment for amoment; then, partially realising the situation, they ran back into theguardroom shouting with alarm.

  By this time Tim was half-way up the stairs on that side. Some of hismen followed closely; others were springing up the opposite staircase.As yet not a shot had been fired. But as Tim reached the balcony half adozen mestizo soldiers of the Prefect came tumbling out of theguardroom, some loading their rifles, some hastily flinging on theirbandoliers. Tim shouted to them to surrender, emphasising the demandwith a shot from his revolver. At such close quarters they could notfire their rifles. The suddenness of the attack, and the sight of theswarm of Japanese and Cholos pressing on with billhooks, struck themwith panic. All but two threw down their arms at once; one struck atTim with his clubbed rifle; Tim dodged the blow, and throwing out hisleft foot behind his opponent, flung himself with all his weight againstthe man and hurled him backwards to the floor. The sixth man ran to thewindow opening on the patio, and sprang out, falling with a crash. Itwas afterwards discovered that his arm was broken.

  On the other side, meanwhile, a brisk fight was in progress. There werea dozen men in quarters, including the second lieutenant. All the restwere in the plaza or had gone to Mr. O'Hagan's hacienda. Roused by thenoise, they seized their arms and rushed to the balcony. The officerreached the head of the staircase at the same moment as the first of theJapanese, and instantly dropped him with a revolver shot. Thismomentarily checked the assailants, giving time to the troopers to comeforward to the lieutenant's support. When Tim, after his bloodlessvictory, ran back to the balcony, he saw on the opposite side a confusedmass of men in hand-to-hand fight, hacking at each other with rifles,swords and billhooks. He could not fire for fear of hitting one of hisown party. Leaping down the staircase, he dashed across the porch, upthe other stairs, and flinging himself into the midst of the melee,brought the butt of his revolver down heavily on the officer's head, atthe same time crying to the Peruvians that all was lost. They werealready hard pressed; seeing their officer fall, and more Japanese andCholos mounting behind the lad with the ruddy cheeks and fair hair, theygave up the unequal contest.

  Locking them in their rooms, Tim hurried down to the porch. He orderedsome of his men to close and bar the gates, and led another party up tofind the armoury beyond the guardroom. The door of it was locked, buthe burst the lock with a shot from his revolver, and, ordering the mento go in and help themselves, he ran back, recalled by a clamour at thegates.

  On reaching the balcony, he found his men at grips with a number of theenemy who had been patrolling the plaza on horseback, and hearing theshots had galloped down the street to discover their cause. The greaternumber of Tim's party being on the floor above, the Peruvians had beenstrong enough to prevent the closing of the gates, and some had alreadypenetrated into the porch. Tim sang out to the men behind him in theguardroom and armoury to line the balcony, and fired down among theenemy. He was soon joined by a dozen eager Japanese. At his order theypoured a volley into the crowd below, taking care not to hit theircomrades, who were partially sheltered behind the half-open gates. Thehorsemen, thrown into confusion by this deadly attack from above, triedto wheel their horses and ride back into the street. This made theconfusion worse than before. The horses plunged with fright and pain;several of the riders reeled from their saddles; in a few seconds thesurvivors fled in hopeless rout. The moment the last had gone the gateswere slammed behind them and barred.

  Running to a window overlooking the street, Tim saw more horsemengalloping from the plaza, followed by a shouting mob. He called hisnewly-armed men to his side, and ordered them to fire as soon as thetroopers reached the barracks. One volley was enough. The horsemenreined up, wheeled about, and rode back in disorder, driving theshrieking crowd before them. The barracks were won.