The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippi

"Which seems to me to be very convenient for all our plans," said Braxton Wyatt.

The Spaniard smiled, but speedily contracted his brows again. The cut that Paul had given him was hurting.

"I should like to punish that boy in some spectacular manner," he said. "I should want him to be humiliated in the presence of others as I was."

Suddenly he raised his head, which he had bent in thought, and his lips curled in laughter under his yellow mustache.

"I have it!" he exclaimed. "An idea! Since young Kaintock can use the sword I shall give him a chance to do it again! Oh, I shall give him every opportunity!"

Then he leaned over and spoke in lower tones to Braxton Wyatt. The renegade's eyes lighted up with delight.

"The very thing!" he exclaimed. "I'd have it done at once!"

Paul and Long Jim Hart meanwhile were resting in their log prison. Jim's arms had been unbound and, after rubbing them freely, he said that the circulation was restored. Then the two turned their attention to their prison. Paul surmised that it had been built as a tool house or store house, but at present it was empty save for himself and his comrade, Long Jim.

The only light came from two little windows made merely by cutting out a section of log and quite too small to admit a human body. They tried the door but it was so strong that they could not shake it. Then Long Jim lay calmly down on the floor.

"Paul," he said, "I don't believe I wuz ever fastened up in sech a little place ez this afore. Ef I stretch out my legs my feet will hit the wall over thar, an' the place is so close an' hot I don't breathe good."

"We'll have to stand it for a while," said Paul philosophically.

"That's so," said Long Jim, "I don't s'pose they mean to murder us ez we're not at real war with the Spaniards, so I wonder what they mean to do."

Paul shook his head. But he understood better than Long Jim the dangers of their situation. He knew the temper and character of Alvarez, and he knew, too, that at this distant chateau he was omnipotent. Alvarez was bent on making war upon the settlers in Kentucky, and nothing would stop him.

"Henry an' Sol an' Tom are free," said Long Jim. "They'll git us out, shore."

They remained a long time undisturbed, and the air in the room was so close and hot that both became languorous and sleepy. Nor was there any sound except the droning of some flies overhead and this added to the heaviness. Paul finally rose and gazed through the little windows, but he saw only an empty field and the edge of the forest. Save for this glimpse of green they were completely cut off from the world. He sat down again on the floor and composed his figure as comfortably as he could.

"How long do you think we hev been in here, Paul?" asked Long Jim.

"About four hours."

"Four hours! why, I thought it wuz four months. Paul, I don't believe I could stand this more'n a week, no matter ef they fed me upon the finest things in the land. At the end uv a week I'd turn right over an' die, an' when they examined me to see the cause uv my death, they'd find that my heart wuz broke in two, right squar' down the middle."

"They say that some wild animals die in captivity, and you might call it of a broken heart."

"I'm one uv them kind. I like lots uv room. I want it to be clean woods an' prairie runnin' a thousan' miles from me in every direction. An' I don't want too many people trampin' 'roun' in them woods either, save Injuns to keep you lookin' lively, an' mebbe twenty or thirty white men purty well scattered. I reckon I'd call that my estate, Paul, an' I'd want it swarmin' with b'ars an' buffaler an' deer, an' all kinds uv big an' little game. Then I'd want a couple uv good rifles, one to take the place uv tother when it went bad, an' a couple uv huts p'raps three or four hundred miles apart to sleep in, when the weather wuz too tarnation bad, lots uv ammunition an', Paul, I'd be happy on that thar estate uv mine."

"Aren't you a little bit grasping, Jim?" asked Paul.

"Me, graspin'," replied Long Jim in a surprise. "What makes you ask sech a foolish question, Paul? Why, all I ask is to range ez fur an' ez long ez I like an' not to be bothered by no interlopers. I don't want to crowd nobody, an' I don't want nobody to crowd me. But, Paul, ef a feller could do that fur about a thousand years wouldn't it be a life wuth livin'? Just think uv all the deer hunts an' buffaler hunts an' b'ar hunts you could hev! An' the long beaver trappin' trips, you could go on? An' the new rivers an' new mountings you could find! The Injuns has the right idea about Heaven, Paul. They make it the happy huntin' grounds. Them huntin' grounds o' theirs run ten million miles in every direction. You couldn't ever come to any end. No matter how fur you went you'd see oceans uv green trees ahead uv you, an' on one side uv you prairies covered with buffaler herds so big that they'd be a week passin' you, an' then they'd still be passin'."

Long Jim heaved a deep sigh and was silent for a while. Paul, too, was silent. At last Long Jim said:

"I s'pose it don't pay, Paul, to be drawin' sech splendiferous pictures uv what ain't. Now I've gone an' made myself onhappy, talkin' uv them glorious huntin' grounds that stretch away without end, when here we are in this hot box so narrer I can't straighten out my legs. Besides, I'm gittin' pow'ful hungry. I wonder ef they mean to starve us to death. Strikes me that's an awful mean way uv killin' a man. He not only dies but he's so terrible hungry sech a long time."

But Long Jim's forebodings were not fulfilled. When the light that came through the little windows began to grow dusky, the door was thrown open and Luiz and another man entered with food and water. Luiz could not speak English, but he could make pantomime, and in that dumb but suggestive way he invited them to partake freely. Long Jim's good humor returned.

"Don't keer ef I do, Mr. Spaniard," he said jovially. "It's a failin' uv mine to want to eat whenever I'm hungry, an' since you're invitin', why, I'll jest accept."

The door was left open while Luiz and the soldier were inside, but several other soldiers were on guard at the opening, and there was no chance for a dash. But fresh air came in, the cooler air of the evening, and Paul and Long Jim were greatly relieved. Yet Jim Hart cast many a longing glance at the open door. Outside was the wide world, and his place was there. Darkness was coming, but darkness would have no terrors for Long Jim, if only there were no walls about him.

When hunger and thirst were satisfied, Luiz and his comrade fell back respectfully. A tall figure, followed by a man bearing a torch, entered the doorway.

The man was Francisco Alvarez, but neither Paul nor Long Jim rose, Paul because he disliked the Spaniard and considered him a bitter enemy of his people, Long Jim because he saw no reason why he should rise for anybody.

Alvarez looked down at them and the sight of the two caused him a mixture of anger and triumph. His wound still stung, but at the bottom of his heart was a feeling that he had deserved it. In the presence of his own retainers, and with all the circumstances in his favor, he had sought to humiliate a boy. But this faint feeling was not enough to induce corresponding action. He was also something of a statesman, and he saw the power behind these two who had come out of the woods. They were foresters, they wore the tanned skin of the deer, but they belonged to the soil; they were natives, while he, in all his brilliant uniform and gold lace, was a foreigner, merely the long, extended arm of a power four thousand miles away. The two were but a vanguard, others would come and yet others in a volume, always increasing. The only possibility of saving Louisiana was to cut off the stream at the fountain head, while it was yet a thin and trickling rill, and he, Francisco Alvarez, was the man for the deed.

It was because such thoughts as these were passing through his head that he did not speak for at least a minute, but stood steadily regarding Paul and Long Jim. He knew instinctively that it was Paul to whom he must speak, the boy with the thoughtful, dreamy eye, who, like himself, would gaze far into the future.

"Where are your comrades?" he asked, "the other three who helped you to steal my boat?"

"Captured it, you mean," replied Paul, calmly. "So long as you use the words 'steal' and 'thief,' you can talk to the air. I've nothing to say."

"Nor me either, Paul," said Long Jim, "I can't remember another time in my life when I felt so little like talkin'."

Long Jim leaned his head against the wall and half closed his eyes. His manner expressed the utmost indifference. Alvarez frowned, but he remembered that they were wholly in his power and he had plans.

"I'll change the words," he said, "but I repeat the question. Where are your comrades?"

"I don't know," replied Paul, and feeling a sudden happy thrill of defiance he added: "They are probably somewhere arranging the details of our rescue."

Alvarez frowned again.

"That is impossible," he said. "Perhaps you do not know your position. You are not at New Orleans. Here I am both the civil and military chief and this is my own place. I can put you to death as brigands or guerillas, caught red-handed upon Spanish soil."

"Both charges, you know, are false," said Paul, "you know, too, that we have come to defeat, if we can, a conspiracy between you and Braxton Wyatt, a renegade whose life is doubly forfeit to his people. He carries plans, maps, and full information of our settlements in Kentucky, and he expects that you will go with many soldiers and cannon to help him and the tribes destroy us. What plans you and he have beyond this I do not know, but these, my friends and I hope to defeat, and we feel we could not be engaged in a greater or holier task."

Paul spoke with great fire and eloquence. His soul was revealed in his eyes, and Alvarez felt that he was in touch with a mind of no common order.

"Imagination!" said the Spaniard trying to laugh the impression away. "I find in Señor Wyatt a pleasant and intelligent assistant. He understands the rights of the King of Spain in these vast regions, and has a due regard for them. You and your comrades are outlaws, subject to the penalty of death and I hold you in my hand. Yet I am disposed to be generous. Give me your oath that you and your comrade here and the three in the woods will go back to Kaintock at once and remain there, and I will release you."

Paul regarded him steadily. Bold man as he was, the Spaniard's eyes fell at last.

"We can give no such promise," said Paul. "I think that the reasons why we should go on to New Orleans are exceedingly strong."

"Ez fur me," said Long Jim, "I ain't ever been fond uv goin' back on my own tracks until I git good an' ready."

"I merely came here to give you a chance," said Alvarez, still addressing himself to Paul. "Do you think that a few woodsmen can stand in the path of Spain? Do you think that a great ancient monarchy can be held back by stray settlers?"

"You seem to be afraid of it yourself," said Paul who was regarding him closely.

A flush, despite himself, came into the Spaniard's cheeks, and it was partly of anger because a boy had read his mind so well. It was not a thing to be endured.

"I repeat that I came merely to give you a chance," he said. "Whatever you may suffer you can now bear in mind that you are the cause of it. Come, Luiz, I have wasted too much time."

He walked out followed by the soldier, but Francisco Alvarez had known before entering the prison that his offer would be declined. He merely wished to clear away any light burden that might rest on his conscience, before proceeding with another plan that he had in mind.

Paul and Jim did not say a word until the door was fastened and they were left to the darkness. Then it was Jim who unburdened himself.

"Paul," he said, "did you ever see a panther gittin' ready to jump? Notice how his eyes turn a yellery-green, 'cause he thinks he's goin' to git what he wants right away? Notice how his mouth is slobberin' 'cause he thinks he's goin' to hev his dinner on the spot. Notice how his body is drawed up, an' his tail is slowly movin' side to side, 'cause he thinks he's goin' to sink his claws in tender flesh the next second! Wa'al that panther makes me think uv this here Spaniard, Alvarez. I think we kin look fur jest about ez much kindness an' gentlin' from him ez a fawn could expect from a hungry panther."

"You are certainly right, Jim," said Paul.

"Uv course! Ef I didn't know thar wuz so many soldiers about, I'd send a whoop through one uv them little winders thar, an' bring Henry, Tom, an' Sol here to let us out."

"As we can't do that, Jim," said Paul, "I think I'll go to sleep."

CHAPTER X

A BARBARIC ORDEAL

When Paul awoke the next morning just after daylight, he did not feel very good. Accustomed all his life to fresh air and infinite spaces, the close, hot little log house oppressed him. His head felt heavy and his lungs choked. Jim felt likewise and made audible complaint, but the door was soon opened, and again it was Luiz and a comrade with food.

"Luiz, you ain't no beauty an' you can't talk a real decent language," said Long Jim, "but I'm pow'ful glad to see you."

The words were foreign to Luiz, but he understood Long Jim's tone. He smiled and showed his white teeth, but when his glance fell upon Paul he became sad. Then he looked quickly away. He did not wish either Paul or his comrade to read anything in that glance. Luiz did not have a bad heart and he was troubled.

When they had eaten their breakfast, Luiz put his hand on Paul's shoulder, and pointed to the door, beckoning also to Long Jim. His manner indicated plainly that they were to leave the prison.

"All right, pardner," said Long Jim. "You won't have to git no pole to pry me out uv this place."

Luiz led the way and the two followed gladly. The air was crisper and fresher than usual, and to both of them it felt divine. They inhaled deep breaths, and thought that the world had never looked so beautiful. What a golden sunrise! What a blue sky! What magnificent green woods off there under the horizon! They felt strength and courage rushing back in a flood.

"Which way now, Mr. Spaniard?" said Long Jim. "Has your captain repented, an' does he want to give us the finest rooms in his house? I can't say that we liked the tavern he made us stop at last night."

Luiz shook his head, either to signify that he did not understand or that there was no reply, and led the way down a narrow path shut in on either side with magnolias and cypresses. The little group of soldiers enclosed Paul and Long Jim, but all their glances were for the boy, none for the man.

The enclosed path led on for two or three hundred yards. Paul now and then caught glimpses through the trees of the chateau or a passing face, and he heard a low murmur that seemed to be the hum of many voices.

The path ended presently at a gate in a high board wall, and both gate and wall were thick and strong Here a Spaniard dressed like a minor officer was waiting, and began to unlock the gate.

"Now what under the sun can they be about?" asked Long Jim, to whom all this seemed very strange. "Are they goin' to tie us up in a pen?"

The heavy gate was unlocked and swung open a foot or so. Two soldiers suddenly seized Long Jim and pulled him back, while another thrust Paul into the open space. The officer put in his hand a sword—the very one with which he had wounded Alvarez, Paul's fingers closing mechanically over the hilt. Then they shoved Paul inside, and quickly closed and locked the gate behind him. But the last look that Luiz had bent upon the boy was one of pity and sympathy.

Paul staggered with the force of the push that the men had given him, and for a moment or two he was dazed, but eye and brain alike cleared as a great shout arose. Then he beheld an extraordinary scene.

The boy stood within a ring fence enclosing a circular space perhaps thirty yards across, free from grass, and trodden hard. The fence was of boards only about half way around, the rest of it being made of strong parallel bars about two feet apart and fastened to posts. At the far side a rude log stable seemed to open into it. The place might have been intended as a breaking ground for horses but Paul did not have time to think.

Facing him just outside the fence and sitting on a hastily constructed wooden seat was Francisco Alvarez, still in his finest uniform. Beside him was Braxton Wyatt, also in a Spanish uniform, and all about them on either side, wherever the fence was made of parallel bars and open to see, clustered the mob, soldiers, laborers, servants, white faces, black faces, yellow faces, brown faces, straight hair, curly hair, and kinky hair, French, Spaniards, Portuguese, Indians, negroes, and many mixtures, every one eager and tense, and every eye bent upon Paul who stood, back to the gate, holding the sword in his hand, but unconscious that he held it.

What was this mummery? Why was he a spectacle for that mob? All the blood rushed to Paul's head and the little pulses in his temples began to beat like hammers. He looked at Alvarez, but the Spaniard had turned his face into a stony mask, and he could read no meaning there. Then he looked at Braxton Wyatt, and the renegade's countenance plainly expressed malignity and triumph.

The great shout that greeted the entrance of Paul died away to a silence so heavy that it seemed ominous. Then Francisco Alvarez looked toward the wooden building, at the far side of the ring, and raised his hand. A gate there was thrown open, and a man, sword in hand, strolled lazily out. Again a tremendous shout arose, and the mob pressed closer to the bars, those in front sitting on the grass and those behind standing up in order that they might look over them.

Francisco Alvarez raised his hand a second time, and instantly there was silence once more. He was like a feudal lord dispensing justice in the open air before all his retainers.

"Kaintock," he called in a loud voice, "since you are so expert with the sword, we give you another chance to display your skill. Defend yourself from this champion."

Again the approving shout of the mob arose, and Paul looked across the ring, where the swordsman had come forth.

The man was of great size, and his whole appearance reminded Paul of the ancient gladiators of whom he had read. He seemed to be a West Indian of Spanish descent, very dark and with immense shoulders. He wore a red shirt, which added to his strange and savage appearance. He carried in his hand a long sword, much longer than Paul's and when he faced the lad he suddenly grasped the hilt of his weapon in both hands and twirled it about until it made a glittering circle. The crowd set up a shout, but Paul felt chilled through and through.

"I have no quarrel with this man," he called to Alvarez, "and I will not fight him."

"You have no choice," replied Alvarez, and the more savage in the crowd, who wished to see barbaric sport, shouted their approval. But some were silent. Long Jim struggled with four men, and exclaimed, "It's murder! He's only a boy!" But the four held him fast.

The swordsman, grinning in the certainty of easy triumph, advanced upon Paul.

Now Paul understood. He was there to furnish sport, terrible, deadly sport, and he must fight if he would save himself. As Alvarez truly said, no choice was left to him. If he sprang for the barrier they would thrust him back, and that was not a thing to be endured.

Francisco Alvarez, spurred on by the sting of his wound, and urged, too, by Braxton Wyatt, who was mad for the deed the moment he heard of it, had done this wicked thing. The strain of cruelty in his nature, inherited perhaps, from far-off ancestors who had looked upon pitiless games in the arena in the Roman cities in Spain, was completely in control.

"It is better than I thought," he said to Braxton Wyatt. "The ring serves the purpose well. We shall have some royal sport If Kaintock will but fight."

"He will fight," said Braxton Wyatt.

The swordsman advanced upon Paul and thrust with his shining blade. Paul felt intuitively that he was a master of the weapon, reinforced, too, by enormous strength. He, a boy, would have but little chance. Yet he parried the thrust and replied with one of his own that flashed dangerously near the man's side. The crowd again shouted approval, but as before some were silent. Long Jim made another effort to drag himself loose, but he could not. The men held him. Nevertheless, he repeated his cry: "It's murder! He's only a boy!"

The rapid interchange of thrust and parry followed, and the swordsman grew angry. He was there not only to furnish sport, but to have it also for himself. He did not like to be held back by one over whom he had thought victory so easy. Suddenly he exerted his full strength and broke through Paul's guard. The lad felt his left shoulder and arm seared as if by a great flame, and, with a cry that he could not repress, he dropped back.

The swordsman, too, stepped back, sure now of his triumph. The shout came from the crowd once more, but only from a part of it, and brave, faithful Long Jim closed his eyes that he might not see what would follow.

The elated swordsman held up his weapon as one would a banner. It was a broad blade like a cutlass and it glittered in the brilliant sunlight. The next moment there was the sound of a shot, the man uttered a cry of pain, although himself untouched, and the sword, broken in several pieces, fell to the ground. It had been shot from his hand with a rifle bullet.

Long Jim, opening his eyes, uttered a cry of joy and Henry Ware, smoking rifle in hand, pressed his way through the crowd, which he had entered unnoticed in the excitement.

Francisco Alvarez sprang to his feet in anger. Not for some moments did he see the figure of the one who fired the shot, and even then he did not know who it was. But Braxton Wyatt knew Henry Ware at once, and he was resolved that he should not escape.

"Seize him! seize him!" cried the renegade. "He is the most dangerous of them all!"

But Henry offered no resistance, as the soldiers rushed toward him, quietly surrendering his rifle. Tom Ross, who was behind him, angrily threw back the crowd and would have fought, but Henry said: "Give up, Tom, it's best for the present."

Henry's eyes were upon his comrade who had been subjected to such treatment. Paul stood erect, but there were stains on his shoulder, and he was pale and weak.

"Look to him," said Henry threateningly to Francisco Alvarez who was approaching. "It is an outrage of which the Governor General of Louisiana shall know."

Alvarez flushed. He felt now slight prickings of the conscience and of apprehension. It was indeed a wicked deed that he had done, but he had no mind to be bearded by another from Kaintock.

"He will receive the proper attention," he said, "but you are my prisoner, and so is this man who has just been taken with you. I tell you, too, that I am in supreme command here, and I take the responsibility for all my acts."

Braxton Wyatt had crowded near, but Henry and Tom refused to notice him. Luiz went into the ring and led Paul away, binding up his shoulder where the flesh was cut, although the hurt was not serious. "Take their arms and put them all in the same prison," said Alvarez to one of his officers and the four were escorted to the log house which Paul and Long Jim had left not long before.

"Our plan has been marked by some success after all," said Alvarez to Braxton Wyatt. "It has drawn two more into our hands."

"There is a fifth," said Braxton Wyatt. "The one they call Shif'less Sol, and we have not got him. As long as a single one of them is free we are in danger."

The Spaniard laughed.

"You exaggerate their powers," he said. "We have nothing to fear from one wandering hunter."

"But this man, Shif'less Sol, is full of cunning," said Braxton Wyatt.

The Spaniard's only reply was to hold his head a little higher. It was his plan now to assume his haughtiest manner. The little fear that he had done wrong, that his act in forcing Paul into the ring against a professional swordsman, a gladiator as it were, was mediæval, and that harm might come to him from it, clung to him. But pride bade him never to show it.