Blood turned his attention to the wounded. These, both his own men and the Spaniards, had been carried into another of the pent–houses, where beds of hay and dried leaves had been improvised for them. There were between forty and fifty of them in all, of which number one quarter were buccaneers. In killed and wounded the Spanish loss had been upwards of a hundred men; that of the buccaneers between thirty and forty.
With a half dozen assistants, of whom one was a Spaniard who had some knowledge of medicine, Blood went briskly to work to set limbs and patch up wounds. Absorbed in his task, he paid no heed to the sounds outside, where the Indians, who had gone to earth during the fighting, were now encamped, until suddenly a piercing scream disturbed him.
Before he could move or speak, the door of the hut was wrenched open, and a woman, hugging an infant to her breast, reeled in, calling him wildly by his Hispanicised name.
«Don Pedro! Don Pedro Sangre!» Then, as he stepped forward, frowning, she gasped for breath, clutched her throat, and fell on her knees before him, crying agonizedly in Spanish: «Save him! They are murdering him — murdering him!»
She was a lithe young thing that had scarcely yet crossed the threshold of womanhood, whom at a casual glance you might, from her apparel and general appearance, have supposed a Spaniard of the peasant class. Her blue–black hair and liquid black eyes were such as you might see in many an Andalusian, nor was her skin much swarthier. Only the high cheekbones and peculiar, dusky lips proclaimed, upon a closer inspection, her real race.
«What is it?» said Blood. «Whom are they murdering?»
A shadow darkened the sunlit doorway and Brazo Largo entered, dignified and grimly purposeful.
Overmastering terror of the advancing Indian froze the crouching woman's tongue.
Now he was standing over her. He stooped and set his hand upon her shrinking shoulder. He spoke to her swiftly in the guttural tongue of Darien, and though Blood understood no word of it, yet he could not mistake the note of stern command.
Wildly, a mad thing, she looked up at Captain Blood.
«He bids me go to see them roasting him alive! Mercy, Don Pedro! Save him!»
«Save whom?» barked the Captain, almost in exasperation.
Brazo Largo answered him, explaining:
«She to be my daughter — this. Captain Domingo, he come village, one year now, and carry her away with him. Caramba! Now I roast him, and take her home.» He turned to the girl. «Vamos,» he commanded, continuing to use his primitive Spanish, «you to come with me. You see him roast, then you come back village.»
Captain Blood found the explanation ample. In a flash he recalled Guanahani's excessive eagerness to conduct him to the Spanish gold at Santa Maria, and how that eagerness had momentarily awakened suspicion in him. Now he understood. In urging this raid on Santa Maria, Brazo Largo had used him and his buccaneers to exploit a private vengeance and to recover an abducted daughter from Domingo Fuentes. But however deserving of punishment that abduction might appear, it was also revealed that, whether the girl had gone off willingly or not with the Spanish captain, his subsequent treatment of her had been such that she now desired to stay with him, and was concerned to the point of madness for his life and safety.
«Is it true what he says — that Don Domingo is your lover?» the Captain asked her.
«He is my husband, my married husband, and my love,» she answered, a passion of entreaty in her liquid eyes. «This is our little baby. Do not let them kill him, Don Pedro! Oh, if they do,» she moaned, «I shall kill myself!»
Captain Blood looked across at the grim–faced Indian.
«You hear? The Spaniard has been good to her. She desires his life. And his offence being as you say, it is her will that decked his fate. What have you done with him?»
Both clamoured at once, the father in angry, almost incoherent, remonstrance, the girl in passionate gratitude. She sprang up and caught Blood's arm to drag him thence.
But Brazo Largo, still protesting, barred the way. He conveyed that in his view Captain Blood was violating the alliance between them.
«Alliance!» snorted Blood. «You have been using me for purposes of your own. You should have been frank with me and told me of your quarrel with Don Domingo before I pledged myself that he should suffer no violence. As it is…»
He shrugged, and went out quickly with the young mother. Brazo Largo stalked after them, glowering and thoughtful.
Outside, Blood ran into Wolverstone and a score of men who were returning from the town. He ordered them to follow him, telling them that the Indians were murdering the Spanish captain.
«Good luck to them!» quoth Wolverstone, who had been drinking.
Nevertheless, he followed, and his men with him, being in reality less bloody in deed than in speech.
Beyond the breach in the palisade they came upon the Indians — some forty of them — kindling a fire. Near at hand lay the helpless Don Domingo, bound with leather thongs. The girl sped to him, crooning soft Spanish endearments. He smiled in answer out of a white face that yet retained something of scornful calm. Captain Blood, more practical, followed with a knife and slashed away the prisoner's bonds.
There was a movement of anger among the Indians, instantly quelled by Brazo Largo. He spoke to them rapidly, and they stood disappointed but impassive. Wolverstone's men were there, musket in hand, blowing on their fuses.
They escorted Don Domingo back to the fort, his little wife tripping between him an the buccaneer captain, whom she enlightened on the score of the Indians' ready obedience to her father.
«He told them that you must have your way since you had pledged your word that Domingo's life should be safe. But that presently you would depart. Then they would return and deal with him and the other few Spaniards left here.»
«We must provide against it,» said Captain Blood, to reassure her.
When they got back to the fort they found that, in their absence, the remainder of the Indians, numbering rather more than a score, had broken into the shed where the Spaniards were confined. Fortunately the business had only just begun, and the Spaniards, although unarmed, were sufficiently numerous to offer a resistance, which, so far, had been effective. Nevertheless, Captain Blood came no more than in time to prevent a general massacre.
When he had driven off his savage allies, the Spanish commander desired a word with him.
«Don Pedro,» he said, «I owe you my life. It is difficult to thank you.»
«Pray don't give yourself the trouble,» said Captain Blood. «I did what I did, not for your sake, but for the sake of my pledged word, though concern for your little Indian wife may have had some part in it.»
The Spaniard smiled almost wistfully as his glance rested on her standing near him, her fond eyes devouring him.
«I was discourteous to you this morning. I beg your pardon.»
«That is an ample amend.»
The Captain was very dignified.
«You are generous. May I ask, sir, what is your intention regarding us — myself and the others?»
«Nothing against your liberty, as I promised. So soon as my men return, we shall march away and leave you.»
The Spaniard sighed.
«It is what I feared. You will leave us, weakened in strength, our defences wrecked, at the mercy of Brazo Largo and his Indians, who will butcher us the moment your backs are turned. For don't imagine that they will leave Santa Maria until that is done.»
Captain Blood considered, frowning.
«You have certainly stirred up a personal vengeance, which Brazo Largo will prosecute without pity. But what can I do?»
«You could suffer us to depart for Panama at once, whilst you are here to cover our retreat from your Indian allies.»
Captain Blood made a gesture of impatience.
«Ah, wait, Don Pedro! I would not propose it did I not deem you, from what I have seen, to be a man of heart, a gallant gentleman, pirate though you may be. Also you will observe that, since yo
u have disavowed any intention of retaining us as prisoners, I am really not asking for anything at all.»
It was quite true, and, upon turning it over in his mind, Captain Blood came to the conclusion that they would be much better off at Santa Maria without these Spaniards, who had to be guarded on the one hand and protected on the other. Therefore he consented. Wolverstone demurred. But when Blood asked him what possible purpose could be served by keeping the Spaniards at Santa Maria, Wolverstone confessed that he did not know. All that he could say was that he trusted no living Spaniard, which did not seem to have any bearing on the question.
So Captain Blood went off to find Brazo Largo, who was sulking on the wooden jetty below the fort.
The Indian rose at his approach, an exaggerated impassivity on his countenance.
«Brazo Largo,» said the Captain, «your men have set my word at naught and put my honour in danger.»
«I not understand,» the Indian answered him. «You make friends with Spanish thieves?»
«Make friends! No. But when they surrendered to me I promised, as the condition of their surrender, that no harm should come to them. Your men would have murdered them in violation of that promise had I not prevented it.»
The Indian was contemptuous.
«Huh! Huh! You not my friend. I bring you to Spanish gold, and you turn against me.»
«There is no gold,» said Blood. «But I am not quarrelling on that. You should have told me, my friend, before we came this journey, that you were using me so that we might deliver up to you your Spanish enemy and your daughter. Then I should not have passed my word to Don Domingo that he would be safe, and you could have drunk the blood of every Spaniard in the place. But you deceived me, Brazo Largo.»
«Huh! Huh!» said Brazo Largo. «I not say anything more.»
«But I do. There are your men. After what has happened, I cannot trust them. And my pledged word compels me to defend the Spaniards so long as I am here.»
The Indian bowed.
«Perfectamente! So long as you here. What then?»
«If there is trouble again, there may be shooting, and some of your braves may be hurt. I should regret that more than the loss of the Spanish gold. It must not happen, Brazo Largo. You must summon your men, and let me consign them to one of the huts in the fort for the present — for their own sakes.»
Brazo Largo considered. Then he nodded. He was a very reasonable savage. And so the Indians were assembled, and Brazo Largo, smiling the smile of a man who knew how to wait, submitted to confinement with them in one of the pent–houses.
The assembled buccaneers murmured a little among themselves, and Wolverstone ventured to express the general disapproval.
«Ye're pushing matters rather far, Captain, to risk trouble with the Indians for the sake of those Spanish dogs!»
«Oh, not for their sake. For the sake of my pledged word, and that bit of an Indian girl with her baby. The Spanish commander has been good to her, and he's a gallant fellow.»
«God help us!» said Wolverstone, and swung away in disgust.
An hour later the Spaniards were embarking from the jetty, under the eyes of the buccaneers, who, from the mud wall of the fort, watched their departure with some misgivings. The only weapons Blood allowed the voyagers were half a dozen fowling–pieces. They took with them, however, a plentiful supply of victuals, and Don Domingo, like a prudent captain, was very particular in the matter of water. Himself he saw the casks stowed aboard the canoes. Then he took his leave of Captain Blood.
«Don Pedro,» he said, «I have no words in which to praise your generosity. I am proud to have had you for my enemy.»
«Let us say that you are fortunate.»
«Fortunate, too. I shall tell it wherever there are Spaniards to hear me that Don Pedro Sangre is a very gallant gentleman.»
«I shouldn't,» said Captain Blood. «For no one will believe you.»
Protesting still, Don Domingo stepped aboard the piragua that carried his Indian wife and their half–caste baby. His men pushed the vessel off into the current, and he started on his journey to Panama, armed with a note in Captain Blood's hand, ordering Yberville and Hagthorpe to pass him unscathed in the event of his coming up with them.
In the cool of the evening the buccaneers sat down to a feast in the open square of the fort. They had found great stores of fowls in the town, and some goats, besides several hogsheads of excellent wine in the house of the Dominican fathers. Blood, with Wolverstone and Ogle, supped in the departed commander's well–equipped quarters, and through the open windows watched with satisfaction the gaiety of his feasting followers. But his satisfaction was not shared by Wolverstone, whose humour was pessimistic.
«Stick to the sea in future, Captain, says I,» he grumbled between mouthfuls. «There's no packing off a treasure there when we come within saker–shot. Here we are, after ten days' marching, with another ten days' marching in front of us! And I'll thank God if we get back as light as we came, for as likely as not we shall have differences to sett! with old Brazo Largo, and we'll be lucky if we get back at all, ever. Ye've bungled it this time, Captain.»
«Ye're just a foolish heap of brawn, Ned,» said the Captain. «I've bungled nothing at all. And as for Brazo Largo, he's an understanding savage, so he is, who'll keep friends with us if only because he hates the Spaniards.»
«And ye behave as if ye loved 'em,» said Wolverstone. «Ye're all smirks and bows for this plaguey commander who cheated us out of the gold, and ye —»
«Sure now, he was a gallant fellow, Spaniard or no Spaniard,» said Blood. «In packing off the gold when he heard of our approach he did his duty. Had he been less gallant, he would have gone off with it himself, instead of remaining here at his post. Gallantry calls to gallantry; and that's all I have to say about it.»
And then, before Wolverstone could make answer, sharp and clear above the noise the buccaneers were making rang the note of a bugle from the side of the river. Blood leapt to his feet.
«It will be Hagthorpe and Yberville returning!» he cried.
«Pray God they've got the gold at last!» said Wolverstone.
They dashed out into the open and made for the parapet, to which the men were already swarming. As Blood reached it, the first of the returning canoes swung alongside of the jetty, and Hagthorpe sprang out of it.
«Ye're soon returned,» cried Blood, leaping down to meet him. «What luck?»
Hagthorpe, tall and square, his head swathed in a yellow kerchief, faced him in the dusk.
«Certainly not the luck that you deserve, Captain.» His tone was curious.
«Do you mean that you didn't overtake them?» Yberville, stepping ashore at that moment, answered for his fellow–leader.
«There was nobody to overtake, Captain. He fooled you, that treacherous Spaniard; he lied when he told you that he had sent off the gold; and you — you believed him — you believed a Spaniard!»
«If ye'd come to the point now!» said Captain Blood. «Did I hear ye say he had not sent off the gold? D'ye mean that it is still here?»
«No,» said Hagthorpe. «What we mean is that, after he had so fooled you with his lies that ye didn't even trouble to make search, you allowed them to go off scot–free, taking the gold with them.»
«What?» the Captain barked at him. «How do you know this?»
«A dozen miles or so from here we came upon an Indian village; and we had the wit to stop and inquire how long it might be since a Spanish fleet of canoes had gone that way. They answered that no such fleet had passed to–day, or yesterday, or any day since the last rains. That's how we knew that your gallant Spaniard had lied. We put about at once to return, and midway back we ran into Don Domingo's party. The meeting took him by surprise. He had not reckoned that we'd seek information so soon. But he was as smooth and specious as ever, and a deal more courteous. He confessed quite frankly that he had lied to you, adding that subsequently, after our departure, he had purchased his liberty, and that of all who ac
companied him, by surrendering the gold to you. He was instructed by you, he said, to order us to return at once; and he showed us your note of hand, which made him safe.»
And then Yberville took up the tale.
«But we being not quite so trustful of Spaniards, and arguing that he who lies once will lie again, took them ashore and subjected them to a search.»
«And d'ye tell me that you found the gold?» cried Blood, aghast.
Yberville paused a moment and smiled.
«You had permitted them to victual themselves generously against that journey. Did you observe at what spring Don Domingo filled his water–casks?»
«His water–casks?» quoth Blood.
«Were casks of gold — there's six or seven hundred–weight of it at the least. We've brought it with us.»
By the time the joyous uproar excited by that announcement had settled down, Captain Blood had recovered from his chagrin. He laughed.
«I give you best,» he said to Hagthorpe and Yberville. «And the least I can do, by way of amends for having suffered myself to be so utterly fooled, is to forgo my share of the booty.» And then, on a graver note: «What did you do with Don Domingo?»
«I would have shot him for his perfidy!» said Hagthorpe fiercely. «But Yberville here — Yberville, of all men — turned mawkish, and besought me to let him go.»
Shamefacedly the young Frenchman hung his head, avoiding the Captain's glance of questioning surprise.
«Oh, but after all,» he flung out, defiant almost in self–defence, «what would you? There was a lady in the case — his little Indian wife.»
«Faith, now, it was of her that I was thinking,» said Blood. «And for her sake and his — oh, and also for our own — it will be best to tell Brazo Largo that Don Domingo and his wife were slain in the fight for the gold. The sight of the recovered water–casks will amply confirm the story. Thus there should be peace for all concerned, himself included.»
The Chronicles of Captain Blood cb-2 Page 14
