The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vista

Once or twice Phil thought he saw figures insombreros and serapes far up the mountainside, watchingthem. Mexicans, no doubt, ready to report to SantaAnna the advance of the American army. He expectedthat some stray shots might be fired down into the passby these spies or guerillas, but evidently they had otherbusiness than merely to annoy, and no bullets came.

Phil's horse stumbled, and the boy saved him from afall with a quick pull. Arenberg's horse stumbled, also, and Phil noticed that his own was now walking gingerlyover a path of solid but dark stone, corrugated and brokeninto sharp edges. Well might a horse, even onesteel-shod, be careful here! Phil knew it was volcanic rock, lava that had flowed down ages ago from the crests of thepeaks about them, once volcanoes but extinct long since.

His horse stumbled again, but recovered himselfquickly. It certainly was dangerous rock, sometimessharp almost like a knifeblade, and the shoes of theinfantry would be cut badly. Cut badly! A suddenthought sprang up in his brain and refused to bedislodged. It was one of those lightning ideas, based onlittle things, that carry conviction with them throughtheir very force and swiftness. His free hand went up tothe breast of his coat and clutched the spot beneathwhich his brother's letter lay. He had read a hundredtimes the words of the captive, telling how his feet hadbeer cut by the sharp stone. Lava might be found atmany places in Mexico, but it was along these trails inNorthern Mexico that the fighting bands of Mexicans andTexans passed. He reasoned with himself for a fewmoments, saying that he was foolish, and hoping that hewas not, but the idea remained in his head, and he knewthat it was fixed there. He leaned over and said, in ahusky whisper to Bill Breakstone:

"Bill, have you noticed it! The rock! The lava!How it cuts! How it would quickly slice the sole fromthe shoe of a captive who had marched far! Bill! Bill,I say, have you noticed it?"

Bill Breakstone looked in astonishment at his youngcomrade, but he was a man of uncommonly quickperceptions, and in a moment he comprehended.

"I understand," he said. "Your brother's letter andthe passage in which he tells of his shoes being cut bythe sharp stone while he was led along blindfolded. Hemay have passed along this very road, Phil. It may be.It may be. I won't say you are wrong."

"What if we are near him now!" continued Phil."I've often heard you quote those lines, Bill, sayingthere are more things in heaven and earth than we dreamof in our philosophy. I told you before that if the lettercould reach me so far away in Kentucky it could alsobring mo to the place where it was written! I believed itthen, Bill, and I believe it now. What if John is here inthese mountains, within forty or fifty miles of us, ormaybe twenty!"

"Steady, boy, steady!" said Bill Breakstone soothingly."Your guess may be right. God knows I'm notthe one to deny it, but we've got to fight a battle first.At least, I think so, and for the present we must put ourminds on it."

Phil was silent, but his idea possessed him. Oftenwe dwell upon things so long and we seek so hard to havethem happen in a certain way that the slightestindication becomes proof. He could not think now of Tayloror Santa Anna, or of a coming battle, but only of hisbrother between four narrow stone walls, sitting at anarrow window that looked out upon a bleak mountainside.His horse no longer felt the guiding hand upon the bridlerein, but guided himself. Breakstone noticed that theboy's mind was far away, and, his heart full ofsympathy, he said nothing for a long time.

They passed after awhile into a narrow valley, downthe center of which ran a dry arroyo, fully twenty feetdeep, with perpendicular banks. The rest of the valleywas crisscrossed with countless gullies worn by winterstorms and floods, and the army was compelled to marchin a slender file in the bed of the arroyo. Here many ofthe cavalrymen dismounted and led their horses. Thecannon wheels clanked louder than ever.

"I'll be glad when we're through this," said BillBreakstone. "Seems to me the place was built for atrap, and it's mighty lucky for us that there's nobodyhere to spring it. Look out, Phil, you'd better watchyour horse now! Some of these turnings are prettyrough, and you don't want a thousand pounds or so ofhorseflesh tumbling down upon you."

Phil came back from his visions and devoted himselfto the task before them, one that required the fullattention of every man. An entire battery became stuck in agully that intersected the arroyo. He and other cavalrymenhitched their horses to the guns and helped pullthem out. The whole army was now stumbling andstruggling over the fearful ground. Every effort wasmade to save artillery and horses alike from injury. Butas they approached its lower end the Pass of Angosturabecame still more difficult. The gullies increased innumber, and many of the deep intersecting ravines ranfar back into the mountains. A swarm of sure-footedskirmishers on either flank could have done great damagehere to the Americans, but the peaks and the lava slopeson either side presented only silence and desolation.

It was a long journey, difficult in the extreme, andattended by thousands of falls, cuts, and bruises, but thearmy came through the Pass of Angostura at last, marchingout upon a series of promontories or ridges, eachabout a mile long and perhaps a third of a mile across.From these the exhausted troops looked back at thefrowning mountains and the deep defile through whichthey had come.

"That was certainly a job," said Bill Breakstone.

"Yes," said Middleton, who stood near, "but what aplace for a defense, the plateau and these promontoriesrunning out from it, and all the ravine and gulliesbehind!"

It is a matter of chronicle that at least fifty officerswere saying the same words at almost the same time, and even Phil, without military training, could see thetruth of it. Taylor pushed on to Agua Neva, arrivingthere in the evening. But the next morning the reportsof Santa Anna's advance in overwhelming force becameso numerous that he fell back with the main army to themouth of the Pass of Angostura, leaving Marshall with hisbrave Kentuckians as a rear guard at Agua Neva, andwith instructions to make the utmost resistance if theywere attacked.

The next night came on somber and cold. It was theevening of February 21, 1847, and the next day would bethe birthday of the great Washington, a fact notforgotten by these young volunteers so far from the statesin which they were born. This was a land totally unliketheir own. Cold black peaks showed in the growingtwilight. Around them were the gullies, the ravines, andthe arroyos, with the sheets of the ancient black lava. Itwas like a region that belonged in the far beginning oftime.

A great force under Wool, the second in command, wasthrowing up intrenchments of earth and rock and fortifyingthe heads of the ravines. Lieutenant Washington, withfive heavy guns, was planted in the roadway, or rathertrail, in front of all. Other guns were placed on theplateau and promontories, and behind guns and parapetsthe army went into camp for the night.

"This doesn't look much like Kentucky and the Bluegrass, does it, Phil?" said Grayson, as they drank theircoffee.

Phil glanced at the mountains, the crests of whichwere now hidden in the darkness, and listened to the coldwind moaning through the narrow pass by which they hadcome. Then he replied:

"It doesn't, by a long sight, and I can tell you thatI'm mighty glad I've lots of company here. If I werealone, I'd feel that the ghosts of the old Aztecs andToltecs were surrounding me in the darkness. It's good tosee the fires."

Many fires had been lighted, mostly in the ravines, where they were sheltered from the wind, but Phil had nodoubt that the scouts of Santa Anna saw points of lightat the mouth of the pass. After his supper he stood uponone of the promontories and strove to pierce the darknessto the south. But he could see nothing. The nighthung an opaque veil over the lower country.

CHAPTER XIII

A WIND OF THE DESERT

Although many of the soldiers, the morehardened, had lain down to sleep, Phil did not feelthat he could close his eyes. Too many deepemotions stirred his soul. He felt that he was at theverge of a great event, one in which he was to take a partto the full extent of his strength and courage, and there, too, was the sign of the lava, always coming back, always persisting. He might reason with himself andcall himself foolish, but he could not dispossess hismind of the idea that it was an omen to show him thathe was upon the trail by which that letter had come sovast a distance to him in the little town of Paris.

Every nerve in the boy was astir. He walked backand forth on one of the promontories, looking at themountains which now in the darkness had become blackand full of threats, and trying in vain to soothe and quiethimself so he could lie down like the others and takethe rest and forgetfulness that all men need before goinginto battle. While he was there, Middleton called to him:

"Come, Phil," he said, reverting to his old manner ofcomradeship, "you ride with us to-night."

"Ride to-night!" replied Phil. "Where?"

"To the south, to meet Santa Anna. I am orderedto take thirty men and keep going until I come into touchwith the enemy. I am to have thirty men of my choice, and you, Breakstone, and Arenberg were the first threethat I named. You don't have to go unless you wish."

"But I wish!" exclaimed Phil earnestly. "Don'tthink I'm unwilling, Captain! Don't think it!"

Middleton laughed.

"I don't," he said. "I knew that you would be keenfor it. Saddle your horse and look to your arms. Weride in five minutes."

Phil was ready in three, and the thirty troopers rodesilently down one of the ravines and into the lowercountry. Phil looked back and saw the fires of the camp, mere red, yellow, and pink dots of flame. The mountainsthemselves were fused into a solid mass of black.The troop, arrow headed in shape, with Middleton at thepoint of the shaft, and Phil, Breakstone, and Arenbergclose behind him, rode in silence save for the beat oftheir horses' hoofs. The wind here did not moan likethat in the pass, but it seemed to Phil to be colder, andit had an edge of fine particles that stung his cheeks andeyes.

The night was bright enough to allow of fairly swiftriding, and the ground was no longer cut and gullied asat the mouth of the pass. Hence the troopers were notcompelled to devote their whole attention to their horsesand they could watch the country for sign of an enemy.But they did not yet see any such sign. Phil knew thatthey were on the road, leading southward to Santa Anna, and he felt sure that if they kept upon it they must sooncome upon the Mexican army. Yet the silence anddesolation were complete here. The pass had been weirdand somber to the full, but there they had thousands ofcomrades, and the fires in the ravines had been cheering.Now the unlit darkness was all about them, and it stillhad that surcharged quality that it had borne for Philwhen in the pass. Nor did the fine dust cease to stinghis face.

"What is it, Bill?" he asked. "Where does it comefrom, this dust?"

"It's a wind of the desert that stings us, Phil,"replied Breakstone. "It comes vast distances, and I think, too, that it brings some of the fine dust ground off thesurface of the lava. Its effect is curious. It's like burntgunpowder in the nostrils. It seems to heat the inside, too."

"It makes me feel that way," said Phil, "and itseems to be always urging us on."

"An irritant, as it were," said Breakstone, "but Idon't think we need it. The event itself is enough tokeep us all on edge. Feel cold, Phil?"

"No, I've got a pair of buckskin gauntlets. Finething for riding on nights like this."

"So have I. But the night is cold, though. Nowwe're always thinking of warm weather in Mexico, butwe never find a country what we expect it to be. Ah,we're leaving the road. The Captain must think there issomething not far ahead."

They turned at a sharp angle from the road, andentered a thin forest. Phil looked back toward the mouthof the pass from which they had come. Everything therewas behind an impenetrable black veil. The last point offire had died, and the mountains themselves were hidden.But he took only a single backward look. The wind ofthe desert was still stinging his face, and it seemed toarouse him to uncommon fire and energy. His wholeattention was concentrated upon their task, and he waseager to distinguish himself in some way. But he neitherheard nor saw anything unusual.

They proceeded slowly through the forest, seeking toprevent all but the least possible noise, and camepresently to a field in which Indian corn seemed to havegrown. But it was bare now, save for the dead stalksthat lay upon the ground, and here the troop spread out, riding almost in a single line.

It was Phil, keen of eye and watchful, who first saw adim red tint under the far southern horizon, and he atonce called Middleton's attention. The Captain haltedthem instantly, and his gaze followed the line of Phil'spointing finger.

"It is Santa Anna's army," he said, "and you, Phil, have the honor of locating it first. The dim band oflight which you pointed out is made by their camp fires, which are many. We need not try to conceal that factfrom ourselves."

"We take a nearer view, do we not, Captain?" askedBill Breakstone.

"Of course," replied Middleton, "but be cautious, allof you. It is important to see, but it is equallyimportant to get back to General Taylor with the tale our eyesmay tell."

They rode forward again in a long and silent line.Phil's heart began to throb. The desert wind was stillstinging his face with the fine impalpable dust thatseemed to excite every nerve. As they advanced, the redtint on the southern horizon broadened and deepened. Itwas apparent that it stretched far to east and west.

"It iss a great army, and it means much harm," saidArenberg softly, more to himself than to anybody else.

Nearer and nearer rode the bold horsemen, stoppingoften to watch for the Mexican lancers who would surelybe in advance of the army, beating up the country, despite the darkness, but they did not yet see any. Theyrode on so far that they heard the occasional sound of atrumpet in the Mexican camp, and the fires no longerpresented a solid line.

"Captain," asked Bill Breakstone, "what do you thinkthe sound of those trumpets means at an hour like this?"

"I'm not sure, Bill," replied Middleton, "but itmust signify some movement. The Mexicans, like manyother people, love color and parade and sound, but theywould scarcely be indulging in such things at midnightjust for their own sakes. It is some plan. Santa Annais a man of great energy and initiative. But we mustdiscover what it is. That is what we came for."

The advance was renewed, although they went slowly, guarding as well as they could against the least possiblesound from their horses. They were now so near thatthey could see figures passing before the fires, and thedark outline of tents. They also heard the hum of manyvoices, the tread of hoofs by hundreds, and the jinglingof many, spurs and bridle bits. Phil watched almostbreathless, and the desert wind still blew on his face, stirring him with its fine, impalpable powder, and addingnew fire to the fire that already burned in his veins. AndPhil saw that Middleton shared in this excited interest.The officer's gloved hand on his bridle rein quivered witheagerness.

"Yet a little nearer, my lads," he whispered. "Wemust risk everything to find out what Santa Anna isintending at so late an hour."

Screened by a narrow thicket of strange, cactuslikeplants, they rode so close that they could see between theleaves and thorns directly into the camp. Here they saton motionless horses, but Phil heard a deep "Ah!" passbetween Middleton's closed teeth. The boy himself hadexperience and judgment enough to know now what wasgoing forward. All this jingling of bits and spurs meantthe gathering of the Mexican cavalry. The Mexicancamp fires burned along a front that seemed interminable, and also scores of torches were held aloft to guide in thework that was now being done.

Phil saw the Mexican horsemen wheel out by hundreds, until there was a great compact body of perhaps twothousand men, gaudily dressed, well mounted, and ridingsplendidly. Many carried rifles or muskets, but therewere at least a thousand lancers, the blades of their longweapons gleaming in the firelight. Officers in gorgeousuniforms were at their head. Presently the trumpet blewagain, and the great force of cavalry under GeneralMinon began to move.

"An advance at midnight," breathed Middleton, butPhil heard him. "And there go infantry behind them.It is an attack in force. I have it! I have it! They aregoing toward Agua Neva. Santa Anna thinks that ourwhole army is there, and probably he believes he can getin our rear and cut us off. Then he'll compress usbetween his vast numbers as if we were in the jaws of avise."

Then he added, in a slightly louder tone:

"Come, my lads, we ride to Agua Neva, but we mustbe as careful as ever. We know now what our task is, and we will do it."

They turned and rode away. Fortune was with them.No horse neighed. Perhaps the sound of their hoofsmight have been heard now, had it not been for the greatMexican column marching toward Agua Neva, where therear guard under Marshall was hurrying the stores, thathad been left there, northward to Taylor. Middletonswung his little troop to one side, until they were wellbeyond the hearing of Minon's cavalry.

"There can no longer be any doubt that they areheading for Agua Neva," he said, "and we must beat themthere, no matter what happens. Ride, boys, ride!"

They broke into a gallop, sweeping in a long lineacross some open fields, riding straight for a few pointsof light behind which they knew was Agua Neva. Theywere now well ahead of the great column, and Middletontook the chance of meeting any stray band of Mexicanscouts and skirmishers. They did meet such a band, but it was small, and, when the Mexican hail wasanswered with a shout in a foreign tongue, it quicklyscattered and gave the Americans free passage. A few shotswere fired, but nobody in Middleton's troop was touched, and none in the other. Without breaking line theAmericans rode on. The lights grew clearer and increased innumber. In a few moments they clattered down on AguaNeva, and ready sentinels, rifle in hand, halted them.

"Friends!" cried Middleton. "I am Captain Middleton, with scouts from General Taylor. I must seeyour commander at once!"

But Marshall was there as he spoke, and Middletonexclaimed in short words, surcharged with emphasis andearnestness:

"Santa Anna is coming down upon you! We haveseen his cavalry marching, and the infantry are behindthem! They will soon be here! They must think thatour whole army is in Agua Neva, and evidently theyintend to surround it."

"All right," said Marshall calmly. "Most of thewagons are already on the way to the pass. We covertheir retreat, and the General told us to hold on here aslong as we could. We mean to do it. Are you with us,Captain?"

"Certainly," replied Captain Middleton briefly."You can depend on us to the last."

"Minon's cavalry must be coming now," said Marshall."It seems to me that I hear the tread of manyhorsemen."

"It is they," said Middleton. Marshall's men andhis then fell back toward the little town. They were onlya few hundred in number, but they had no idea of retreatingwithout a fight. They were posted behind some stonewalls, hedges, and a few scattered houses. The last ofthe wagons loaded with stores were rumbling awaynorthward toward the Pass of Angostura.

Phil sat on his horse behind a stone wall, and all wassilence along the line. The wind still blew, and stunghis face with the dust of the desert. His heart throbbedand throbbed. He saw Middleton open his watch, holdit close to his face in order that he might see the handsin the moonlight, and then shut it with a little snap.

"Midnight exactly," he said, "and here they come!"

The heavy tread of many men was now in their ears, and the lances gleamed in the moonlight, as the greatMexican force swung into the open space about the littletown. They came on swiftly and full of ardor, but asheet of fire blazed in their faces. The long rifles of theAmericans were well aimed, despite the night-they couldscarcely miss such a mass-and horses and riders wentdown together.

While they were still in confusion, Marshall's littleforce loaded and fired again. A terrible uproar ensued.Men groaned or shouted, horses neighed with fright orscreamed with pain. Many of them ran riderless betweenthe combatants. Phil heard the Mexican officers shoutingorders and many strange curses. Smoke arose andpermeated the night air already charged with the dust of thedesert. The Mexicans fired almost at random in thedarkness, but they were many, and the bullets flying inshowers were bound to strike somebody. Two or threeAmericans dropped slain from their horses, or, on foot, died where they were struck, behind the walls. TheMexicans in a vast half circle still advanced. Marshalland Middleton conferred briefly.

"How many men have you?" asked Marshall.

"Thirty."

"I have about fifty more cavalrymen. Take them andcharge with all your might. They may think in thedarkness that you have a thousand."

"Come!" said Middleton to his men, and he and theeighty rode out into the open. They paused there only aninstant, because the great half circle of the Mexicans wasstill advancing. Phil, in the moonlight, saw the enemyvery distinctly, the lances and escopetas, the tall conicalhats with wide brims, and the dark faces under them.Then, at the command of Middleton, they fired their riflesand galloped straight at the foe.

Phil could never give any details of that wild moment.He was conscious of a sudden surge of the blood, thethudding of hoofs, the blades of lances almost in his face, fierce, dark eyes glaring into his own, and then theystruck. The impact was accompanied by the flashing ofsabers, the falling of men and horses, shouts and groans, while the smoke from the firing to the right and left ofthem drifted in their faces.

Phil felt a shock as his horse struck that of a Mexicanlancer. The lance-blade flashed past his face, and it feltcold on his cheek as it passed, but it did not touch him.The Mexican's horse went down before the impact of his, and he saw that the whole troop, although a few saddleswere emptied, had crashed through the Mexican line.They had cut it apart like a knife through cheese. Whilethe Mexicans were yet reeling from the shock, Middleton,a born cavalry leader, wheeled his men about, and theycharged back through the Mexican line at another point.The second passage was easier than the first, becauseMinon's men had been thrown into disorder, yet it wasnot made without wounds. Phil was slightly grazed inthe side by a bullet, and a lance had torn his coat on hisshoulder. If the cloth had not given way he would havebeen thrown from the saddle. As it was, he nearlydropped his rifle, but he managed to retain both seat andweapon.

"All right!" shouted a voice in his ear. It was thatof Breakstone, who was watching over him like a father.

"All right," returned Phil confidently, and then theywere back with Marshall's men, all but a dozen, whowould ride no more.

"Good work," said Marshall to Middleton. "Thatstartled them. They will ride back a little, and ourriflemen, too, are doing almost as good work in themoonlight as they could in the sunlight."

The blood was pounding so heavily in Phil's ears afterthe double charge that he did not realize until then thatthe heavy firing had never ceased. The little Americanforce reloaded and pulled the trigger so quickly that thevolume of their firing gave the effect of numbers threeor four times that of the real. The darkness, too, helpedthe illusion, and the Southerners and Westerners repliedto the shouts of the Mexicans with resounding cheers oftheir own. An officer galloped up, and Phil heard himshout to Marshall above the crash of the firing:

"The last of the wagons is beyond the range of fire!"

"Good," said Marshall. "Now we, too, must fallback. The moment they discover how few we are theycan wrap us in a coil that we cannot break. But we'llfight them while they follow us."

The little force was drawn in skillfully, and thehorsemen on either flank began to retire from Agua Neva. TheMexicans, urged by Minon, Torrejon, Ampudia, andSanta Anna himself, pushed hard against the retiringforce, seeking either to capture or destroy it. More thanonce they threatened to enfold it with their long columns, but here the horsemen, spreading out, held them off, andthe long range rifles of the Americans were weapons thatthe Mexicans dreaded. As on many another battlefield, the Westerners and Southerners, trained from theirboyhood to marksmanship, fired with terrible accuracy. Themoonlight, now that their eyes had grown used to it, wasenough for them. Their firing, as the slow retreatnorthward toward the Pass of Angostura went on, never ceased, and their path was marked by a long trail of their fallenfoes. Santa Anna and his generals sought in vain toflank them, but the darkness was against the greater force.It was not easy to combine and make use of numberswhen only moonlight served. Regiments were likely tofire into one another, but the small compact body of theAmericans kept easily in touch, and they retreatedpractically in one great hollow square blazing with fire onevery side. "Hold on as long as you can," Taylor hadsaid to Marshall, but Marshall, in the face of twenty toone, held on longer than any one had dreamed.