CHAPTER X--SCOUTING
The guest of honour at the Jefe's banquet that evening was not thestation-master of Santa Marta, who, it is to be feared, was left out inthe cold, but William Pentelow. His health was drunk (in very badwine), and he had to listen, as comfortably as he could, to some veryhigh-flown speeches, in which he was hailed as the true Liberator ofVenezuela. Will, who was a modest fellow, took all this for what it wasworth, which, he was inclined to think, was very little.
The truth is that he was not in the mood for junketing. Before thebanquet the Jefe had granted him a private audience, and he related fullparticulars of what had happened at railhead. He ended by asking theJefe to use his influence and authority to procure the liberation of Mr.Jackson and his subordinates. The Jefe was very sympathetic, butconfessed frankly that he saw no present means of helping theEnglishmen.
"It is most distressing, senor," he said, "but you see my unfortunateposition. I am not strong enough to follow up the defeated rebels. Icannot leave the city totally unguarded, and my whole force is inferiorin numbers to those of General Carabano and Colonel Orellana. I canexpect no help from Caracas at present, and, as you are doubtless aware,there are no garrisons in the smaller towns touched by the railway.Besides, I have no doubt that General Carabano has entrained his men,and returned to the place from which he started, and since the culvertis broken, it is impossible to follow him up by train. As soon as therevolt in Valencia is suppressed, the President will certainly takestrong measures against General Carabano, who until then must, I fear,be left unmolested. A mere remonstrance with him on the treatment ofyour colleagues, unbacked by force, would be futile. I will certainlytelegraph to Caracas, giving the particulars I have learnt from you, andasking for instructions; but I do not expect that anything practicalwill come of it immediately. At present I can only hold this city forthe Government. If I may counsel you, I say, remain here for thepresent. I do not anticipate that your friends will suffer personalharm; General Carabano will certainly have a wholesome respect for thefar-reaching arm of your great country. I shall not fail to representyour distinguished services in the highest quarters, and without doubtthe President will know how to recognize them adequately. In themeantime I shall be honoured by your presence at the banquet I am givingto-night in celebration of our victory."
This was very cold comfort; but Will was not unreasonable, and onreflection he acknowledged that the Jefe could not very well take anyactive steps on behalf of his friends. He decided at any rate to waituntil an answer had been received from Caracas, which might be expectedduring the following day.
Scouts who had been sent out to watch the retreating columns reportedthat the retirement was definitive. Colonel Orellana had marchedsouthward round the swamps, while General Carabano had entrained his menbeyond the culvert and started down the line, presumably to return tohis camp at De Mello's hacienda.
Next morning the Jefe decided to send a portion of his troops by steamerto the junction, to capture the station staff, who had clearly espousedthe rebels' cause. When Colonel Blanco returned in the evening, hereported that he had found the station deserted. Since the destructionof the culvert six miles west of Bolivar had rendered the line uselessat present for Government troops, the Colonel had thought it wise toprevent General Carabano from attempting another dash on the city.Accordingly he had torn up a hundred yards of the track on this side ofthe junction. This left the rebels in possession of the branch line,which would, however, be of little use to them. The Colonel had notbroken the telegraph wires. The traitor Pereira in Bolivar had beenflung into jail, so that there was no danger of further mischiefconcerted between him and his friend Machado.
Meanwhile Will had spent an unhappy day. Some of the younger officersseemed disposed to continue indefinitely the revellings of the previousnight, and he had great difficulty in excusing himself fromparticipation in them without appearing discourteous. He took theopportunity of paying a visit to the offices of the Company. The agent,an Englishman, was greatly distressed at what had occurred, and cabledinformation to the head offices in London, leaving it to the directorsto make representations to the Foreign Office. He advanced a quarter'ssalary to Will, who bought a revolver and a supply of petrol, togetherwith a considerable quantity of food which he stored in the hydroplane.
An hour before Colonel Blanco's return from the junction, the Jefe sentfor Will.
"I have disagreeable news for you, senor," he said. "This afternoon Ireceived a telegram from General Carabano saying that your superior,having taken arms against the Liberator, is now held to ransom. Hethreatens that unless he receives within three days 60,000 pesos forSenor Jackson and 12,000 for each of his subordinates they will beshot."
Will gasped. He knew without telling that to raise so large a sum asL7,000 would be impossible.
"I telegraphed this demand to Caracas, having already informed thePresident of what you told me yesterday," continued the Jefe. "I havehis reply here. He says that he deeply regrets the outrage to whichyour friends have been subjected, but the permanent interests of yourCompany will be better served by strengthening my position here than byattempting a rescue with a totally inadequate force. He adds that thepayment of a ransom is out of the question. It would merely strengthenGeneral Carabano's position, and his demand must be resisted on publicgrounds ay in the highest degree dangerous."
"Surely he will not allow three inoffensive Englishmen to be shot,"exclaimed Will, indignantly.
"It is deplorable," replied the Jefe, "but what can be done? GeneralCarabano will hesitate before taking so extreme a step, which wouldutterly ruin any chance he may have of usurping authority, even if hecould overcome us by force of arms."
"I am not so sure of that," said Will bitterly. "From what I have seenand heard of the General I believe him to be utterly unscrupulous andcapable of any atrocity, to satisfy his spite if for no other reason,for you remember, Excellency, that it was my Chief's firmness thatprevented him from vastly increasing his resources."
"Senor Jackson indeed merits the thanks of the Republic, senor, and I amgreatly concerned at his unfortunate position. But, as you see, I amhelpless, and I can only hope that General Carabano will be restrainedby considerations of prudence from committing what would undoubtedly bea most heinous crime."
Will saw that, had he been in the Governor's place, he could hardly havedone otherwise. But though official action was impossible, he felt thathe could not himself remain securely in Bolivar while his friends werein dire peril. He was at a loss to think of any effectual means ofhelping them, but he could at least return to the hacienda on thechance, small though it must be, of intervening in their behalf. Itflashed upon him--and the thought was a ray of hope--that the Generalhad possibly been bluffing, and that the Englishmen were no longer hisprisoners. He could not have left a large guard over them; they mighthave escaped. At any rate, Will decided that he must return at once andsee for himself how matters stood.
Twenty minutes after his interview with the Jefe he was again on boardthe hydroplane with Jose and Azito. A few miles up the river he metColonel Blanco's steamer returning, and learnt what had been done at thejunction. Then he set off again, hoping to reach the neighbourhood ofthe hacienda soon after dark. But reflecting that his supply of petrolwas limited, and he would have no chance of replenishing it, hecontented himself with an average speed of some twenty knots, and it wasdark before he reached the junction. Just at this time it happened thatsomething went wrong with the engine, and since he did not care to riskan absolute breakdown, and could not discover the defect in thedarkness, he felt it necessary to lie up until morning. Accordingly heran the vessel into a small secluded creek, well sheltered by trees, andmade his way with Jose and the Indian to the deserted station, wherethey ate a meal and fixed their quarters for the night, each taking aturn to watch.
As soon as it was light they returned to the hydroplane. To repair thedefect was the work of half-an-hour. They we
re eating their breakfaston board the vessel when Azito declared that he heard a trainapproaching. The creek was so well screened by the foliage that therewas no fear of their being seen from the railway line; but it waspossible to observe through the leaves what happened when the train drewlevel. It consisted of three trucks filled with men, and Will felt surehe saw the burly form of Captain Espejo standing beside theengine-driver on his cab. He wondered whether they had got wind of thecoming of the hydroplane, and had come to intercept it. This seemedvery unlikely, for the news would not have reached them by telegraph nowthat Pereira had been removed and the staff at the junction haddecamped. True, the hydroplane had been seen as it passed river-sidevillages, and it had met and overtaken several craft on the way--barges,skiffs, and Indian canoes. But it had outstripped all vessels going inthe same direction, and it must have been impossible for any of theiroccupants to have given information to the rebels. A more reasonableexplanation was that they had heard of the visit of Colonel Blanco, andCaptain Espejo had come to discover what had happened at the junction,and whether any movement was being made from Bolivar. General Carabanowas probably unaware of the exact strength of the reinforcements towhich he owed his defeat, and would naturally be somewhat nervous lesthe should be followed up.
The train came to a standstill where the line had been torn up. CaptainEspejo descended from the engine and some of his men from the trucks,and they walked along the track and into the station. Will had alreadydecided that it would be inadvisable to continue his journey until theapproach of evening. He chafed at the delay, but there would be toogreat a risk of being seen, or of the throbbing of the engine beingheard, to venture further in the daylight, especially as the line wasbeing used. After the train had returned, therefore--the engine runningbackwards, the siding at the station having been destroyed--he settledhimself in the boat to make up for the broken sleep of the night.
When he awoke, he thought over what was before him. It was impossibleto prepare a definite plan of operations. His first object must be todiscover whether the three Englishmen were still in the camp, and stillimprisoned in the stables. This seemed to him unlikely. His own escapewould probably have led to a change of quarters, unless indeed theGeneral had adopted the precaution of patrolling all sides of thestables to prevent a repetition of Will's exploit. He thought withcompunction of the additional rigours the prisoners might have had tosuffer through him. What he should do when he had discovered theirwhereabouts must be left to circumstances. He would only have a littlemore than one clear day to effect their release before the period namedby General Carabano expired, and he fretted a good deal as he thought ofthe possibility that all his efforts might fail.
After a tedious and anxious day, he ventured to set off a little beforedusk. It was dark when he came into the stream running past thehacienda. Finding that the wind was blowing strongly from the directionof the hacienda, he continued to use the engine for a time, not, ofcourse, planing, but contenting himself with a bare two or three knots.When this was no longer safe, he stopped the engine and with Azito'sassistance began to pole the vessel up-stream. It was slow andfatiguing work. But there was no help for it. The hydroplane was toovaluable an accessory to be left where it might be discovered. The firstnecessity was to lay it up in security. Then they might go ashorefeeling confident that, however protracted their absence might be, thevessel would be safe and always available.
As it passed within sight of the hacienda and the camp Will saw lights,and suspected from their position that the camp had been shifted. Hewould have liked to land and steal up to the stables; Azito offered todo so: but Will, after a little hesitation, stuck to his resolution torisk nothing until the hydroplane was in safety. It was fully fourhours before he reached the hollow in the bank. Once or twice in thedarkness the vessel ran aground, and the fear of lurking caymans madethem careful how they moved to get her off. When, shortly after oneo'clock, she was at last moored in the recess, Will was tired out. Hewas five miles from the hacienda: by the time he could reach it therewould only be two or three hours of darkness before day broke. It wouldbe difficult enough to make any discovery at all in the darkness: howmuch more difficult when time was limited! In spite of the furtherdelay involved, Will thought it wise to rest for the remainder of thenight, and to start fresh next morning on whatever course then offereditself.
Will had never before spent a night in the hydroplane. Owing perhaps tohis fatigue and his anxieties he felt a little reluctant to do so now,for though the water in the recess was very shallow, there was apossibility that a cayman might wander in from the stream, a prospectnot to be thought of without shuddering. Azito and the negro refusedpoint-blank to sleep in the vessel. The wood had its perils, but theypreferred to rest in a tree. To guard against any danger for himselfWill hit on the plan of tying a string across the entrance of the recessabout a foot above the surface of the water. An empty petrol can wasattached to one end of this, and so carefully balanced that the leasttouch on the string would cause it to fall against the bank. The soundwould, he hoped, not only give him warning, but scare away any unwelcomevisitor. However, the night passed without disturbance, and Will, whenhe awoke, was ready for anything the day might bring forth.
It was the third day, the last, of the time allowed by General Carabanofor the ransom of his prisoners. Anything that could be done for themmust be done at once.
"You and I will go to the hacienda," said Will to the Indian, "and seeif we can find out where the senores are."
"I go alone, senor," replied Azito. "I can move as quietly as a snake.No one will hear me. Was it not I that made the hole in the wall? Letthe senor stay here until I bring him word."
Anxious and impatient though he was, Will had to confess to himself thatAzito's suggestion was reasonable. The Indian was accustomed to thewoods: he might evade observation by a hundred artifices of which Willwas ignorant. In any case one would go more safely than two.
"Very well," said Will. "Be as quick as you can."
The Indian slipped noiselessly away. Will spent the first part of themorning in cleaning the engine. When this was done he moved restlesslyabout among the trees, worried because he could do nothing, nor evenform any plans until he had more information. He watched thebright-coloured birds flitting among the foliage, caught a tree frog,and examined it with a naturalist's curiosity, followed a cayman as ithunted for food along the bank; but all this palled upon him after atime, and as hour after hour passed, and Azito did not return, he becamemore and more uneasy. What had happened to the man? Had he fallen intothe clutches of his old master? At the best he would be unmercifullythrashed; and if by any chance Captain Espejo had learnt of hisassociation with the Englishmen, as he might do from one of the railwaypeons who had been impressed, Will trembled for the poor Indian's fate.
As the sun rose higher, it became oppressively hot in the moistatmosphere of the wood. At noon Will and Jose ate a simple dinner; thenthe former lay down in the hydroplane to snatch a nap. But the air ofthe recess was so stuffy, and insects bit him so ferociously, that atlast he could endure his inactivity no longer. Jose had been severaltimes to the edge of the wood to watch for Azito's return. When he cameback after one of these excursions, and reported that there was still nosign of him, Will sprang up.
"I am going after him, Jose," he said. "You stay here and watch theboat. Do not leave it until I come."
He climbed up the bank and set off through the wood. If he wentstraight through it, he would emerge almost within bowshot of thehacienda. It occurred to him that he would run less risk if he camedown on the camp from the opposite side rather than from the riverfront. Accordingly he struck off to the right, and presently reachedthe margin of the wood near the deserted railway camp. Looking aroundto make sure that no one was in sight, he ran across the open space,still littered with the debris of the camp, and crawled over theembankment. A few hundred yards on the other side of this was a longstretch of forest. H
e entered this, and then turning to the left,hurried on as fast as he could through the clinging tangled undergrowth.Here and there the trees thinned and he bent low so that his form shouldnot show above the vegetation. Sometimes too he came to an expanse ofbare rising ground, and had to go a long way round to avoid it. But theembankment always served as a screen, and about three o'clock he arrivedat a point where he could hear the distant sounds of the camp and knewthat he was coming within reach of danger.
Leaving the wood, he climbed the embankment, and lay down at the top toview the camp. He saw that, as he had guessed when passing it on thestream, it had been removed, and was now established nearly half-a-mileaway in the grounds of the hacienda, which the tents practicallyencircled. He surmised that his escape from the stables had madeGeneral Carabano anxious about his own safety. If a man could get out,a man could get in, and the General had many enemies. Difficult asaccess had been before, it was now immeasurably more difficult, and Willfelt with a sinking heart that his friends' plight was even more seriousthan he had believed.
He was still lying on the embankment, wondering what had become ofAzito, and how he was to do anything for the prisoners, when he suddenlybecame aware that he was not alone. He had heard no sound except thedistant hum from the camp. Turning quickly and whipping out hisrevolver, but still having the prudence not to rise to his feet, he wasconfronted by Azito himself, who had crawled up to his side. He wasconscious now that his heart was thumping wildly against his ribs.
"I am here, senor," whispered the Indian, unnecessarily.
The two quickly slid down the embankment and entered the wood.
"I had given you up," said Will breathlessly. "What have you done?"
The Indian's story was a very simple and natural one, and Will saw thathis anxiety had been quite baseless. Azito had approached to within aquarter-mile of the hacienda, and then found himself checked. The campwas astir; sentries were placed at several points of its circuit; it wasimpossible to get in undetected. There was no alternative but to wait.Will could imagine Azito sitting with the stolid patience of the Indian,clasping his knees, indifferent to the passage of time. His opportunitycame at noon, when, after the midday meal, everybody but the sentriesretired for a siesta, and even they were drowsy. Slipping round thecamp, he wormed his way through the undergrowth to the back of thestables. The hole in the wall had not been filled up. There was nosound from within. Wriggling through the hole, he found that thestables were deserted. The door was open. All was quiet before thehacienda. He peeped round to the right. No sentry was posted at thenew stables. Evidently the prisoners had not been transferred to them.It was impossible to search for them through the camp. Stealthily hemade his way back as he had come, and going a long way round, crossedthe embankment and drew near to the camp again, to view it from theother side. There was nothing to indicate the whereabouts of theprisoners.
"Did you see any one you knew?" asked Will.
"Senor Machado, senor. I saw him go in and out of the house. Once hecame out with General Carabano."
"Are there any special guards set in the camp itself?"
"None, senor, except the sentry at the door. He was asleep against thewall when I looked out from the stables."
The absence of special guards in the camp or at the house seemed toindicate that the prisoners had been removed elsewhere. A horrible fearthat they had already been shot seized upon Will. For a moment heshuddered in a cold sweat of doubt and dread. But then he rememberedthat the period of grace had not yet expired. Furthermore, theprisoners would be more valuable alive than dead. While they stilllived there was a chance of their being ransomed. General Carabanowould surely, as the Jefe had suggested, hesitate to involve himself inserious complications with the British Government. A revolutionaryleader can hardly play the remorseless tyrant until success has placedhim beyond criticism.
But if the prisoners, then, were still alive, as seemed probable, wherewere they? So far as Will knew, there was no place in the immediateneighbourhood to which they could have been taken. He was at a loss howto make any discovery on this matter without revealing his presence tothe enemy. The camp was astir. To enter it now was impossible. Itseemed that the only thing to do was to return to the recess, and remainthere until night, trying meanwhile to think out some course of action.
Before he left, however, he determined to climb the embankment once morefor a final look round. Choosing for his ascent a spot a little nearerto the camp, on gaining the top he caught sight of the small woodencabin which had been erected for the telegraphic apparatus. Before, itwas concealed from him by a row of bushes. For a moment he wonderedwhether the prisoners had been locked up there, but the notion wasnegatived immediately by the absence of a sentry. And then he laughedinwardly at the idea of the prisoners being within reach of Machado.The telegraphist would hardly feel safe to perform his duties, if theywere still required of him, with O'Connor near at hand, even though hewas bound.
There was nothing to be gained by remaining longer, so Will, verydespondent, made his way back with Azito through the wood to the recessin the bank. Jose reported that nothing had happened during theirabsence. They all had a meal; then Will went up the bank and strolledalong where the vegetation did not impede walking, gloomily ponderinghis apparent helplessness.
Suddenly he heard a slight warning sound from Azito. He stepped hastilyback among the trees, and looked up-stream, the direction in which theIndian was pointing. Coming round a bend some distance away was anobject that looked like a cage or a basket. There was a man in it,standing in the middle, steering the strange vessel with a short pole asit drifted down the stream. Azito declared that he was a white man.Will gazed at him searchingly; then almost shouted for joy. Thenewcomer was Joe Ruggles.
Swift and Sure: The Story of a Hydroplane Page 12
