The Free Lances: A Romance of the Mexican Valley

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

  UP THE MOUNTAIN.

  "We're going to have a night black as charcoal," said Rivas, running hiseye along the outline of the Cordilleras, and taking survey of the skybeyond.

  "Will that be against us?" queried the young Irishman.

  "In one way, yes; in another, for us. Our pursuers will be sure to rideall round the Pedregal, and leave a picket wherever they see theresemblance of path or trail leading out. If it were to come onmoonlight--as luckily it won't--we'd had but a poor chance to get pastthem without being seen. And that would signify a fight against awkwardodds--numbers, arms, everything. We must steal past somehow, and so thedarkness will be in our favour."

  As may be deduced from this snatch of dialogue, they were still in thePedregal. But the purple twilight was now around them, soon to deepeninto the obscurity of night; sooner from their having got nearly acrossthe lava field, and under the shadow of Ajusco, which, like a blackwall, towered up against the horizon. They had stooped for a moment,Rivas himself cautiously creeping up to an elevated spot, andreconnoitring the ground in front.

  "It will be necessary for us to reach the mountains before morning," headded after a pause. "Were we but common gaol-birds who had bolted, itwouldn't much signify, and we'd be safe here for days, or indeed forever. The authorities of Mexico, such as they are at present, don'tshow themselves very zealous in the pursuit of escaped criminals. Butneither you nor I, Senor Kearney, come under that category--unluckilyfor us, just now--and the Pedregal, labyrinth though it be, will getsurrounded and explored--every inch of it within the next forty-eighthours. So out of it we must move this night, or never."

  Twilight on the table-lands of the western world is a matter of only afew minutes: and, while he was still speaking, the night darkness haddrawn around them. It hindered them not from proceeding onwards,however, the Mexican once more leading off, after enforcing upon theothers to keep close to him, and make no noise avoidable.

  Another half-hour of clambering over rocks, with here and there ascrambling through thickets of cactus, and he again came to a stop, all,of course, doing the same. This time to use their ears, rather thaneyes; since around all was black as a pot of pitch, the nearest object,rock or bush, being scarcely visible.

  For a time they stood listening intently. Not long, however, beforehearing sounds--the voices of men--and seeing a glimmer of light, whichrose in radiation above the crest of a low ridge at some distance ahead.

  "_Un piquet_!" pronounced Rivas, in a half-whisper.

  "_Soto en la puerto--mozo_!" (knave in the door--winner) came a voicein a long-drawn accentuation, from the direction of the light.

  "Good!" mutteringly exclaimed the Mexican, on hearing it. "They're attheir game of _monte_. While so engaged, not much fear they'll think ofaught else. I know the spot they're in, and a way that will take usround it. Come on, _camarados_! The trick's ours!"

  Sure enough it proved so. A path that showed no sign of having everbeen trodden, but still passable, led out past the gambling soldiers,without near approach to them. And they were still absorbed in theirgame--as could be told by its calls every now and then drawled out, andsounding strange in that solitary place. Ruperto Rivas conducted histrio of companions clear of the Pedregal, and beyond the line ofenfiladement.

  In twenty minutes after they were mounting the steep slope of the CerroAjusco, amid tall forest trees, with no fear of pursuit by the soldiers,than if separated from them by a hundred long leagues.

  After breasting the mountain for some time, they paused to take breath,Rivas saying--

  "Well, _caballeros_, we're on safe ground now, and may rest a bit. It'sbeen a close shave, though; and we may thank our stars there are none inthe sky--nor moon. Look yonder! They're at it yet. `_Soto en lapuerto--mozo_!' Ha, ha, ha!"

  He referred to a faint light visible at a long distance below, on theedge of the Pedregal, where they had passed that of a picket fire-camp,which enabled the _monte_ players to make out the markings on theircards.

  "We may laugh who have won," he added, now seemingly relieved from allapprehension of pursuit.

  Nevertheless the fugitive party stayed but a short while there; justlong enough to recover wind. The point they were making for was stillfurther up the mountain, though none of them could tell where save Rivashimself. He knew the place and paths leading to it, and well; otherwisehe could not have followed them, so thick was the darkness. In daylightit would have been difficult enough, yawning chasms to be crossed_barransas_--with cliffs to be climbed, in comparison with which theescarpments of the Pedregal were but as garden walls.

  In a groping way, hand helping hand, all were at length got up and over,as the tolling of distant church bells, down in the valley below,proclaimed the hour of midnight. Just then Rivas, once more making astop, plucked a leaf from one of the grass plants growing by, andplacing it between his lips gave out a peculiar sound, half screech,half whistle--a signal as the others supposed; being assured it was, bythe response soon after reaching their ears.

  The signal was given again, with some variations; responded to in likemanner. Then a further advance up the mountain, and still another halt;this time at hearing the hail:

  "_Quien viva_!"

  "_El Capitan_!" called out Rivas in answer, and received for rejoinderfirst an exclamation of delighted surprise, then words signifyingpermission to approach and pass.

  The approach was not so easy, being up a steep incline, almost a cliff.But on reaching its crest they came in sight of the man who hadchallenged, standing on a ledge of rock. A strange-looking figure heseemed to Kearney and the Texan, wearing a long loose robe, girded atthe waist--the garb of a monk, if the dim light was not deceiving them;yet with the air of a soldier, and sentinel-fashion, carrying a gun!

  He was at "present arms" when they got up opposite; and wondering, butwithout saying aught, they passed him--their conductor, after amomentary pause and a muttered word to him, leading on as before.

  Another ascent, this time short, but still almost precipitous, and thisclimbing came to an end.