Up the Forked River: or, Adventures in South America

“I can do it; let me alone.”

Without hesitation, she jerked the head of the pony around, so as to face the appalling slope, and, speaking firmly to him, continued pulling strongly on the bit.

“It is madness! You will both be carried over.”

But she gave no heed. The intelligent animal pressed his haunches against the rocky wall, and began carefully turning. His four hoofs were set close together, the front ones on the very edge of the abyss, over which his head projected, and down which the dirt began crumbling. The support of one hoof yielded and he sank partly sideways. The Major uttered an angry exclamation and tried to snatch his sister from the saddle. She resisted and not for a second did she lose her superb nerve. The horse saved both by partly rearing, and with his fore legs in air swung round as if on a pivot and set his feet down again on firm earth, with his nose pointed toward the Castle. She twitched the rein and spoke sharply. He broke into a gallop up the path, with the indignant officer running at his heels, and Guzman close behind him.

“’Twas the maddest folly I ever saw, but heavens! what nerve!”

Brief as was the distance, when they reached the summit of the trail, Martella dashed up after them.

“I saw him!” he said excitedly; “he came on the gunboat and has several officers with him; they will pass within a few minutes.”

Miss Starland now took the hand of her brother and dropped lightly to the ground.

“It was quite interesting, Jack: I hope you weren’t scared.”

“My heart was in my mouth; I gave you up; if you had gone over, it would have been your own fault.”

“But I didn’t go over.”

Martella seized the bridle, pulling so hard that the pony’s head was drawn horizontal. A rod or two and they reached the broadening path and turned abruptly off among the trees and undergrowth. Where the vegetation was so profuse and dense, a little way was sufficient to hide them from any one passing over the path.

As always, Martella assumed the lead, the horse still reluctantly following with the others around and behind him. Suddenly the beast refused to go farther.

“What’s the trouble?” asked the Major.

“Something has frightened him,” suggested Captain Guzman.

The guide was savagely stamping. Then he stopped and tugged again at the rein. The horse dragged back but allowed himself to be drawn a little farther. All came to a pause, grouping themselves together, where one was hardly visible to the others.

“What was it?” asked the Major, in a whisper, of Martella.

“He smelled a serpent in front of us, and I stamped him to death.”

“Was it venomous?” the American was prompted to ask.

“I think it was a coral snake, but he was not large.”

“If he had bitten you?”

“Pardon me, Major, he did not.”

“There may be others near us.”

“Perhaps; their bite is sure death; we must be ready to crush them under our feet – hist! here come General Yozarro and the officers.”

CHAPTER XXIV

There were six of them, all coming out as clearly in the powerful moonlight as if the sun were in the heavens. The stout form of General Yozarro was at the front, walking at a moderate pace up the slope.

The moment he entered the field of vision, Major Starland heard Martella gasp, as if catching his breath. Then the American felt a hand upon his rifle, as if the other were trying to draw it from his grasp.

“My chance can never be better,” whispered the deserter.

“I will not allow murder to be done; a brave man would not ask it.”

The native loosened his straining grip upon the weapon, and all silently peered from the gloom at the procession filing past. None of the spectators spoke, but each caught the sounds of fitful conversation among the Atlamalcans. No one could have been more generous than the Dictator in the way of imprecations, which was no cause for surprise to Miss Starland.

Until the purchase of the tugboat, General Yozarro had usually passed between his capital and the Castle of Rest on horseback. Now, however, he preferred the water route, although it compelled him to walk a difficult mile.

At the moment when the rear of the procession was opposite our friends, who were breathlessly watching from their hiding place, the pony suddenly threw up his head and emitted a resounding whinny that could have been heard a mile away.

“That means a fight!” exclaimed the Major, tightening his grasp on his rifle; “be ready, Captain and Martella!”

The moment the alarming cry echoed among the mountains, General Yozarro and his friends stopped and stared in the direction of the disturbance. Martella was the only one with the quickness of resource to meet the crisis. In a twinkling, he slipped the bridle of the horse over his head, unfastened the cinch and flung the saddle to the ground. Then, pointing the nose of the animal toward the trail, he gave his haunch a pinch like the nipping of a fire ant. The animal responded with a snort and leap, and then trotted to the group who stared at him in astonishment.

The Major and the Captain caught the shrewdness of the action. By driving out the horse without any belongings, he gave the impression that he was an estray, probably cropping the herbage, when disturbed by the approach of strangers. He had not been ridden long enough to show the marks of bridle or saddle, unless examined closely, which was not likely to be the case.

“They may learn the truth,” whispered Martella; “be ready!”

The animal slowed his pace and walked snuffing suspiciously to the waiting company. When one of the officers reached out to grasp his forelock, he flirted his head away. The brute preferred his freedom to serving a master.

Some natural surprise was expressed that he should be wandering alone, so far from the Castle, and the listening friends heard General Yozarro suggest that it might be worth while to look farther. They were about to do so when he changed his mind.

“Captain Navarro is not careful with his horses: I must remind him to have a better care of my property.”

With this observation, the General resumed the lead and almost immediately the party disappeared, vastly to the relief of our friends. Martella waited only until they were beyond sight, when he led the way back to the trail.

There was no further call for him to act as advance scout, though he again placed himself at the head of the little company. He could readily have captured the horse and offered to do so, but Miss Starland refused the favor, saying it was a grateful relief to walk, after having been so long in doors. Accordingly the pony was left to himself.

The situation had changed. The danger was transferred to the rear, though it was not likely to threaten for some time to come. General Yozarro would not dream of the truth until he reached the Castle. There he would quickly learn that the cunning of the deserter had drawn the American Señorita from his custody and probably taken her beyond reach. It would require less than an hour for him to go to Castillo Descanso, and only a short time to hasten back over the trail to the river.

Would he do so?

This was the question Major Starland asked himself, while tramping directly behind his sister. Such a thing would be so daring an outrage that it seemed improbable. What excuse could he offer when coming into the presence of the two American visitors for so high-handed an interference with their rights? Hitherto he had shown a fulsome obsequiousness to both, and acted the part of a high-toned gentleman. How could he throw off that courtesy which seemed a part of his nature, and still forbid their going and coming as they pleased?

Doubtless the Major would have convinced himself that what he mentally outlined was not to be feared from the Dictator, except for a most important fact that obtruded itself: the presence of Martella, the deserter, with the company of fugitives, as they must now regard themselves. That would justify him in pursuing the ingrate to the uttermost confines of his dominion, and to make his shelter by General Bambos a casus belli, especially if the message left with the engineer of the tugboat had been delivered. Acting under this pretext, Yozarro would be able to bring the man’s companions within his power, with the opportunity of carrying out the plans he had formed respecting them. His infatuation had destroyed his tact, judgment and sense, of which his furnishment had never been great.

Strange that one of the most likely contingencies of the peculiar situation did not present itself to any one until it flashed upon Major Starland, while threading the mountain trail and when near its termination. General Yozarro’s tugboat must have come ashore directly behind the catboat of his predecessors. He would recognize the smaller craft, and know that the American had gone to the Castle to join his sister, no doubt with the intention of bringing her away. He must have destroyed the usefulness of the catboat and thus estopped the flight of the fugitives by that means.

While such action on his part would appear to have been certain, yet it did not accord with his conduct when on the way to Castillo Descanso. The sight of the pony would have told him the truth, and he would have been certain to make an investigation on the spot. But that was not done, nor was there anything in the words or manner of the Atlamalcans to show that he held a suspicion of the real situation.

“Martella must have thought of all this, yet he did not show it by word or act.”

Walking briskly, they soon passed up a slight incline, descended another and arrived within a short distance of the Rio Rubio. Then, for the first time, the officer recalled that the trail bifurcated like the river itself. One fork turned to the right, which led to where the sailboat had been secured. Without pausing, Martella turned down this, and a few minutes later all stood on the river’s margin.

CHAPTER XXV

There nestled their boat with no sign of having been visited during their absence. Its prow was drawn well up the bank, and the sail lay in a roll on the boom and at the foot of the single mast with everything snug. Martella hastily examined every portion of the hull, stepping into the water to do so, and finally said with a grin:

“None of them saw it.”

“That is better fortune than I expected. Providence has been kind to us, but where is their boat, Martella?”

They listened for the blowing off of steam, but, save for the never silent sounds from the forest and jungle, all was silent.

“It is not far away; General Yozarro made the landing above and passed up the other trail to where it joins this one. It was lucky, for, had he come here, as he did last night, he must have seen our boat. He would have crippled it, and when he met the horse along the trail, he would have known we were near. There is no need of undue haste, and if you do not care, I will visit the gunboat.”

“Are you not running great risk?”

“The only ones there are the engineer and two firemen; I have nothing to fear from them.”

“You have my permission.”

The vegetation and foliage were so intricate that, instead of taking the shorter distance, the native loped back over the trail to the forking, and then went down the other to the river’s edge. As he expected, he found the tug lying against the shore. In a country where wood is superabundant and coal almost unknown, the former was used exclusively on the craft. A large quantity was always piled at the front, some of the kinds belonging to the most valuable exports, with such a close grain that it gave out as fervid heat as the mineral itself. Instead of maintaining a high pressure of steam, the engineer allowed it to sink. The return of General Yozarro was not looked for under several hours, and with so much resinous wood at hand, the furnace could be quickly fired up. It was a saving all round to let the steam moderate, which explains why our friends heard nothing of the craft sleeping less than thirty rods away.

Despite the confidence of Martella, he knew his venture was not wholly free from risk, and in the face of his comradeship with the crew, it was not unlikely that they would seek to win the good will of the Dictator by delivering the deserter to him. If there were others beside the engineer and firemen on board, it would be imprudent to the last degree to entrust himself to them. He therefore spent considerable time in reconnoitering.

Moving stealthily here and there, and peering out from the shadows, he soon made out the form of a man seated on the gunwale at the front, doubtless in quest of coolness. He was smoking a cigarette and something in his appearance was so familiar that the deserter called, in a guarded voice:

“Valentin, is that you?”

The man looked sharply around and removed the cigarette from between his lips.

“Martella!” he replied in the same careful voice.

“Who else is on the boat?”

“Only Juarez and Dominguez.”

He had mentioned the names of the two firemen.

“Is it safe for me to join you in a smoke?”

“For a little while only.”

Martella came out in the moonlight, moved softly up the plank which connected the boat with the shore, and seating himself beside his old acquaintance, lit a cigarette. They talked for some minutes, as if no cloud had come between them, and then the visitor, heeding the warning of the engineer, bade him good bye and hurried back to his friends, who were becoming impatient over his absence.

Major Starland and the others noted that the deserter was in high spirits, but no one could understand why this should be the case.

“It is as I thought,” said Martella; “the gunboat landed General Yozarro and the officers who have gone to the Castle.”

“We knew that before.”

“And he did not dream of the presence of our boat so near. Things would have been different had he known it.”

“I may add, Martella, that that information is not new to us.”

“But some things are new. The only ones on the boat are the engineer and two firemen. There will be no trouble about it.”

“Trouble about what?”

“Capturing the boat; the crew will make no resistance, for it is not intended that they shall do any fighting. If they do, we can defeat them easily.”

“So you have a plan for capturing that old tug of General Yozarro? What do you think of it, Captain?”

“It can be done with little trouble as Martella says. I was thinking of the same thing while he was away. It would be a fine trick to play on General Yozarro.”

“And I should be glad to help, but it will not do.”

“Why not?”

“Despite what General Yozarro said, the two republics are not at war. If they were, the capture would make your fortune. As it is, it would bring your ruin. General Bambos would be obliged not only to disavow the act, but to punish you for the offence.”

“I was thinking,” said Martella, “that perhaps the Major would be willing to take the responsibility.”

“I admit that the temptation is strong, and, were not Miss Starland’s interests at stake, nothing would please me more than to capture that wheezy tug and scuttle it, but it may bring unpleasant consequences to her and therefore is not to be thought of.”

Captain Guzman said these words were wise, and Martella was compelled reluctantly to accept the situation, though it irked him. The sail of the boat was hoisted, Miss Starland was given a seat at the stern, and the men united to shove the craft into deeper water.

“There is little wind,” observed the Captain, “but it is favoring and we ought to be at Zalapata soon after daylight.”

The two natives placed themselves at the bow, and the Major as usual, took charge of the tiller, thus bringing himself close to his sister. The wooded shore so blanketed the catboat, that Martella took up a pole to push the craft out into the stream. Soon, enough impulse caught the sail to give headway, and they moved slowly out toward the middle of the river. Martella laid down the pole, and seated himself, still grinning.

“Major, I have pleasing news for you,” he chuckled.

“I am listening.”

“The engineer gave my message to General Yozarro.”

“He did! It is fortunate for you that you and he did not meet.”

“More fortunate for him than for me,” was the significant comment.

CHAPTER XXVI

The sailboat crept slowly out into the middle of the river, the breeze being so light that only a faint rippling was heard at the bow, and the craft hardly answered her helm. Major Starland had noted that the wind was not favorable, and he was compelled to tack toward the northern shore. He ran close in and was cheered by a freshening of the breeze which added perceptibly to the speed.

“At this rate,” said his sister, “we shall not reach Zalapata till tomorrow is well advanced.”

“It cannot matter, for there is no special need of haste.”

“Suppose, when General Yozarro returns, he pursues us?”

“It is not impossible; it will be easy for him to overhaul such a slow-sailing boat as this, but he dare not offer us harm. Are we not free born Americans, and will not our government be quick to punish such an offence?”

“You must not forget that the South American is an idiot, for, had he not been, he would not have dared to forbid my leaving the Castle.”

“Since a long sail is before us, why not let me adjust a couch for you to sleep?”

“Sleep! As if I could sleep at such a time as this! I had all I needed last evening when in prison.”

It will be remembered that Captain Guzman and Martella were seated at the bow, facing those at the stern. Thus the moonlit river beyond was in clear view, and the sombre, motionless form of the tugboat could be made out where it snuggled against the southern bank. The deserter was speaking in low tones to the Captain, when he uttered an exclamation which caused the officer to turn his gaze to the rear.

That which the former fireman saw was a number of sparks mingling with the heavy vapor that was beginning to tumble out of the smokestack. The next moment both saw that the craft was heading out into the river.

“General Yozarro and his officers have returned!” called Martella; “the firemen are cramming the furnace with wood; they mean to pursue us!”

Jack Starland and his sister looked behind them. The Atlamalcan had spoken the truth. The time seemed much too short for the party to have made the journey to the Castle and back. In fact, it was impossible for them to have done so, but there could be no doubt that they were all on the tugboat. The explanation instantly flashed upon Martella.

“Captain Navarro suspected the truth some time after we left and hurried to take us to the Castle again. Some news may have reached him, or his own sense told him of my trick. He met the General on the way.”

Such undoubtedly was the fact. Had our friends suspected aught of that nature, they would not have frittered away the precious minutes as they had done.

Meanwhile, the resinous wood flung into the furnace of the tugboat was doing its work. From the single smokestack poured the murky vapor, sprinkled with crimson sparks which were tossed right and left high in air, to drop hissing into the water. In the moonlight, a snowy winrow at the bow showed that the tug was plowing ahead with fast increasing speed. Capable of making a dozen miles an hour, she was already doing her best, and coming up with the sailboat hand over hand.

Only a few minutes were given the fugitives in which to decide what to do. A straight away race was hopeless, for the pursuer, now no more than an eighth of a mile distant, was sure to overhaul them in a very brief time.

“I am inclined to let General Yozarro come up with us,” said the Major; “I have no fear of his molesting me or Miss Starland, and I am rather curious to hear what he has to say for himself. We are in our own boat, or at least not in his, and we have committed no crime against the Atlamalcan Republic, whatever that name means.”

“You must not think for an instant of such a thing,” said his sister with great earnestness.

“Why not? Do you hold him in fear?”

“No; but he will take vengeance upon Martella, who has served us so faithfully.”

“Great heavens! I never thought of that; and he will be as merciless with Captain Guzman for having helped Martella.”

“And with you for crossing his path.”

“With me! I long for a meeting with him; but, Captain,” added the American, raising his voice; “it will not do for you and Martella to be on board when General Yozarro overtakes us.”

“I think you are right,” replied the Captain; “the General and I have never loved each other, and even General Bambos would not object strongly if it is proposed to shoot me for aiding an Atlamalcan to desert from his navy.”

Martella said nothing, but no one understood the situation better than he.

“I will head the boat for the southern shore, where you two can look out for yourselves.”

“I am afraid you will not have the time to reach it.”

“It must be done!”

The American had pushed the tiller sharply round, and the boat was speeding diagonally for the bank. The change of course gave her a fairer wind, but the tug was coming up so fast that it looked as if she must head off the fugitives. Full steam had been put on, and our affrighted friends, when they looked back, saw the tumbling foam at the bow, the spreading wake streaming fanlike to the rear, and the dark figures crowding forward, amid whom it was easy to believe they discerned the form of General Yozarro cursing the engineer for not attaining better speed.

“If we cannot make it,” said Martella to the Captain, “we must jump over and swim.”

“We cannot swim any faster than we are going now, and the water abounds with enemies.”

“None is so treacherous as Yozarro; I at least will try it; I can let myself over softly and make so long a dive that perhaps he will not notice me.”

“Wait a few minutes, Martella, for I do not like your plan.”

The brief interval decided the question. It seemed that the sailboat might touch land before the pursuer could interpose to head them off. Martella decided to take his chances with the others.

The tug was now so near that Yozarro called:

“Stop or we’ll blow you out of the water!”

“Blow and be hanged!” called back Major Jack; “if you fire on an American citizen, your nuisance of a republic will be wiped off the earth.”

“You have a deserter with you; I demand his surrender.”

Therein shone the cunning of General Yozarro. If an American was fired upon in Atlamalcan waters for carrying off a deserter, it was little satisfaction our citizen would be able to obtain. Without hesitation, Major Starland shouted:

“We have the man; come and get him!”

CHAPTER XXVII

General Yozarro’s red-hot temper burst into uncontrollable flame, and he committed a blunder which allowed the game to flit when it was within his grasp. To the consternation of every one, he gave an instant order to fire upon the sailboat. The officers protested, but the Dictator was irrestrainable. He hurried down from the upper deck and ordered two sailors to train the gun at the front on the little craft. The better to accomplish this, he shouted to the Captain to slacken speed, so as not to distract the aim of the gunners.

For a minute or two Major Starland could not believe what he heard, but the movements on board the tug left no doubt of the frightful purpose of the raging creature on the larger boat. Holding the tiller steady and keeping the head of the small craft straight toward shore, the Major said to his sister:

“If they hit us, it will be by accident; you would better stoop your head.”

She instantly obeyed and he leaned forward himself, so as to offer as small a target as possible. Captain Guzman and Martella sat motionless, watching the tug rushing down upon them and ready to leap ashore the instant they came within reach.

All a-tremble with the intensity of his rage, General Yozarro stood to the rear and beside the six-pounder whose muzzle was pointed toward the little boat. He measured with his eye when the right instant came, and snapped the lanyard. A spout of smoke and flame shot from the muzzle and the boom rolled across the river and was echoed from the further shore, as the solid missile sped on its errand.