THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE GUERILLA CHIEF Sll.KNT AM) MKl.ANCHOI.Y WE STOOD UPON THE NOW DESERTED AVHARF. [p. 213 Front. 'I'Ju Gueiil/n Chicj. THE GUERILLA CHIEF AND OTHER TALES & CAPTAIN MAYNE REID AWTHOR OF "THB KIFLB KANGEKS" AND "THE SCALP HUNTERS " LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited .w York: E. P. DUTTON AND CO. 5 r^ r> t A. CONTENTS. Chapteb Paob I. Cerro Gordo 1 II. The Escape of El Cojo 5 III. The Menace of a Monster 10 IV. An Angel Voice 17 V. An Unpleasant Misunderstanding 20 VI. A Devoted Woman 25 VII. Despoiling the Dead 29 VIII. A Pleasant Explanation 35 IX. Evil Imaginings 38 X. An Implacable Pursuer 43 XI. A Mexican Medico 51 XII. A Side Conversation 66 Xni. A Group of Jarochos 62 XIV. An Infamous Epistle 67 XV. Two Old Acquaintances 74 XVI. A Brace of Bad Fellows 79 XVII. A Riderless Horse 82 XVIU. A Horse Hunt 88 XIX. The Captor Captured 91 XX. A Cuadrilla of Salteadores 96 XXI. Ptobbers en Koute 102 XXII. Dark Suspicions 107 XXIII. A Fiendish Design Ill XXIV. A Scattering oi Salteadores 116 i^ conten:^ DESPARD, THE SPOETSMAN. Chapteb Pa«b I. A City of Duellists .. 121 II. Scene in a Drinking Saloon ,.. 125 ]II. A General Search All Round 131 IV. The Exchange of Cards ISff v. M. Luis De Hauteroche 142 VI. M. Jacques Despard 146 VII. Hospitable Friends 1.53 VIII. The Y ilia Dardonville , 169 IX. The Post Office 164 X. Another Epistle 170 XI. The Cheque 174 XII. The " Missouri Belle " 180 XIII. The Two Pilots 184 XIV. No One on the Watch 191 XV. Pluto 195 XVI. M. Gardette 200 XVII. The Pursuit 206 XVIII, The Denouement 210 A Case op Ketaliation Sil8 The Broken Bitx , 239 A Turkey Hunt in Texas 259 Trapped in a Tree 281 Thb Blaok Jaouab ..., 8d3 THE GUEEILLA CHIEF. CHAPTEE L OBRRO GORDO. ** Agua ! por amor Dios, agua — aguita ! " (Water ! for the love of God, a little water !) I heard these words, as I lay in my tent, on the field of Cerro Gordo. It was the night after the battle bearing this name — fought between the American and Mexican armies in the month of April, 1847. The routed regiments of Santa Anna — saving some four thousand men captured upon the ground — had sought safety in flight, the greater body taking the main road to Jalapa, pursued by our victorious troops; while a large number, having sprawled down the almost perpendicular cliff that overhangs the "Rio del Plan" escaped, unper- ceived and unpursued, into the wild chapparals that cover the piedmont of Perots. Among these last was the lame tyrant himself, or rather should I say, at their head leading the retreat. This has always been his favourite position at the close of a battle that has gone against him; and a score of suck defeats can be recorded. Z THE GUERILLA CHIEF. I could have captured him on that day but for the cowardice of a colonel who had command over me and mine. I alone, of all the American army, saw Santa Anna making his escape from the field, and in such a direction that I could without difficulty have intercepted his retreat. With the strength of a corporal's guard, I could have taken both him and his glittering staff ; but even this number of men was denied me, and nolens volens was I constrained to forego the pleasure of taking prisoner this truculent tyrant, and hanging him to the nearest tree, which, as God is my judge, I should most certainly have done. Through the imbecility of my superior officer, I lost the chance of a triumph calculated to have given me con- siderable fame; while Mexico missed finding an avenger. Strictly speaking, I was not in the engagement of Cerro Gordo. My orders on that day — or rather those of the spruce colonel who commanded me — were to guard a "battery of mountain howitzers, that had been dragged to the top of the cliif overlooking El plan — not that already mentioned as the field of battle, and which was occupied by the enemy, but the equally precipitous height on the opposite side of the river. From early daylight until the Mexicans gave way, we kept firing at them across the stupendous chasm that lay between us, doing them no great damage, unless they were frightened by the whizz of an occasional rocket, which our artillerist, Ripley — now a second-rate Secesh general — succeeded in sending mto their midst. As to ourselves and the battery, there was no more danger of either being assaulted by the enemy than ther© was of our being whisked over the cliff by the tail of a comet. There was not a Mexican soldier on our side of tiie barranca; and as to any of them crossing over to us, CBRRO GORDO. 3 they could ov.iy have performed the feai in a balloon, or by making a circuitous march of nearly a dozen miles. Eor all this security, our stick-to-the-text colonel held close to the little battery of howitzers ; and would not have moved ten paces from it to have accomplished the capture of the whole Mexican army. Perfectly satisfied, from the " lights with which we had been furnished," that there was no danger to our battery, and chafing at the ill-luck that had placed me so far away from the ground where laurels were growing, and where others were in the act of reaping them, I lost all interest in Eipley and his popguns ; and straying along the summit of the cliff, I sat me down upon its edge. A yucca stood stiffly out from the brow of the precipice. It was the tree-yucca, and a huge bole of bayonet-shaped leaves crowniug its corrugated tnmk shaded a spot of grass- covered turf, on the very edge of the escarpment. Had I not scaled the Andes, I might have hesitated to trust myseK under the shadow of that tree. But a cliff, however sheer and stupendous, could no longer cause a whirl in my brain ; and to escape from the rays of a tro- pical sun, at that moment in mid-heaven, I crept forward, caught hold of the stem of the yucca, lowered my extremi- ties, all booted and spui'red as they were, over the angle of the porplirytic rock, took a Havana out of my case, drew a fusee across the steel-filLags, and, lia^^gLng ignited the cigar, I commenced watching the deadly strife then raging iu full fury on the opposite side of the ravine. The prudent nawab, who preferred looking at a tiger- hunt out of a two-storey window, or the spectator of a bull-fight in the i:pper tier of a " plaza de toros," could not have been safer than I, since, without running the slightest risk, I had a "bii-d's-eye view" of the battle. 4 THE GUERILLA CHIEF. I could see the steady advance of Wortli's division of regulars, supported by the fiery squadrons of Harney's Horse ; the brigade of Twdggs — that hoary-headed sexage- narian havard, since distinguished as the "traitor of Texas ;" the close-lined and magnificently-mounted troop of dra- goons -with horses of light gray, led by Phil. Kearney- Kearney, the accomplished gentleman — the best cavalry officer America ever produced; the dashing, daring PhiL Kearney, who, under my own eyes, lost his right arm in the garita of San Antonio de Abad ; the lamented PhiL Kearney, since become a victim to the accursed Secesh rebellion, or rather to the mismanagement of that wooden- headed pretender whose stolid "strategy" ignorance still continues to mistake for genius — M'Clellan. I saw them, one and all, regulars and volunteers, horse and foot, move at the " forward," I saw them advance towards the hill "El Telegrafo," I saw them mending their pace to the double-quick, and break into a run at the " charge !" I could hear the charguig signal and the cheer that succeeded it. I could see the base of tho hiU suddenly empurpled with smoke — a belt of conglomerate puffs rapidly merging into one another. I could perceive the opposing pufPs upon the summit, growing thinner and thinner, as the blue mantle below cajyed gradually up to- wards the shoulder of the " cerro." Then the smoke upon the summit became dissolved into translucent vapour; the tricoloiired Mexican flag flickered for a moment longer through its film, imtil, as if by some invisible hand, it was dragged down the staff ; while at the same instant the banner of the stars and stripes swept out upon the breeze, announcing the termina- tion of the battle of Cerro Gordo. CHAPTEE II. THE ESCAPE OP EL COJO. Despite the chagrin I felt at being liteially hors de combat, I could not at this moment avoid surrendering myself to a feeling of exultation. Both my chagrin and exultation were suddenly checked. A spectacle was before my eyes that inspired me with a vivid hope — a dream of glory. Like a string of white ants descending the side of one of their steepest " hills," I perceived a long line moving down the face of the opposite cliif. In the distance — a mile or more — they looked no larger than termites. Like them, too, they were of whitish colour. For all that, I knew they were men — soldiers ia the cheap cotton uniforms of the Mexican infantry. "Without any strain upon my powers of ratiocination, I divined that they were fugitives from the field above, who, in their panic, had retreated over the precipice — anywhere that promised to separate them from their victorious foe- men. The moving line was not straight up and do^wn the cliff, but zigzagged along its face. I could tell there was a path. At its lower end, and already down near the " plan " of the river (Plan del Eio), I perceived a group of men, dressed in dark uniforms. There were points on the more sombre background of their vestments that kept constantly scintil- lating in the sun. These were gold or gilt buttons, epau- lettes, steel scabbards of sabres, or bands of lace. It was easy to tell that the individuals thus adorned were officers, notwithstanding the fact that, as officers, they were at the wrong end of the retreating line. 6 THE GUERILLA OHIBP. I carried a lorgnette, which I had already taken out of its case. I directed it towards the opposite side of the ravine, upon the dark head of that huge caterpillar sinu- ously descending the cliff. I could distinguish the individuals of this group. One was receiving attentions from the rest — even assistance. The Mexican Csesar was easily recognized. His halting gait, as he descended the sloping path, or swung himself from ledge to ledge, hetrayed the cork leg of El Cojo. A mule stood ready saddled at the bottom of the preci- pice. I saw Santa Anna descend and approach it. I saw him, aided by others, mount in the saddle. I saw him ride off, followed by a disordered crowd of frightened fugi- tives, who, on reaching the chapparal, took to their heels with the instinct of sauve qui pent I looked up the valley of the river. It was enclosed by precipitous "bluffs," as far as the eye could reach; but on that side where we had planted our battery — scarce a mUe above our position — a line of black heavy timber told me there was a lateral ravine leading outwards in the direction of Orizava, The retreating troops of Santa Anna must either find exit by this ravine, keep on up the stream, or risk running back into the teeth of their pursuers on the ;»pposite side of the river. I hurried back to the battery, and reported what I had seen. I could have made my colonel a general — a hero — had he been of the right stuff. " 'Tis an easy game, colonel ; we have only to intercept them at the head of yonder dark Hne of timber. We can be there before them !" " Nonsense, captain ! We have orders to guard thia battery. We must not leave it." " May I take my own men ?" THK ESCAPE OP EL OOJO. 7 " "No ! not a man must be taken away from the guna" " Give me fifty !" " I cannot spare them." '■' Give me twenty ; I shall bring Santa Anna back here in less than an hour." " Impossible ! There are thousands with him. "We shall be lucky if they don't twm. this way. There are only three hundred of us, and there must be over a thou- sand of them." " You refuse to give me twenty men ?" "I can't spare a man. We may need them aU, and more." " I shall go alone." I was half mad. The glory that might have been so easily won was placed beyond my reach by this over- cautious imbecila I was almost foolish enough to have flung myself over the cLi£^ or rushed alone into the midst of the retreating foes. I left the battery and walked slowly away out of sight of my superior. I continued along the counterscarp of the cILff, until I had reached the edge of the lateral ravine leading out from the river valley. I crouched behind the thick tussocks of the zamias. I saw the retreating tyrant, mounted on his mule, ride past, almost within range of my rifle bullet ! I saw a thousand men crowding closely after, so utterly routed and demoralized that nothing could have induced them to stand another shot. I was convinced that my original idea was in perfect correspondence with the truth, and that with the help of a score of determined men I could have made prisoners of the whole "ruck." Instead of this triimiph, my only achievement in the battle of Cerro Gordo was to ceill my colonel a coward, for 8 THE GUERILLA OHIEP. wHcli I was afterwards conimed to close quarters, and only recovered the right to range abroad on the eve of a subse- quent battle, when it was thought that my sword might be of more service than my condemnation by court- martial. Of such a nature were my thoughts as I lay under can- vas on the field of Cerro Gordo on the night succeeding the battle. " AgiM ! por amor Dios, agtm — aguita /" These words reaching my ear, and now a second time pronounced, broke in upon the train of my reflections. They were not the only sounds disturbing the tranquillity of that calm tropic night. From other parts of the field, though in a different direction and more distant, I could hear many voices speaking in a similar strain, in tones of agonized appeal, low mutterings, mingled with moanings, where some mutilated foeman was struggling in the throes of death, and vainly calling for help that came not. On that night, from the field of Cerro Gordo, many a soul soared upward to eternity — many a brave man went to sleep with unclosed eyes, a sleep from which he was never more to awaken. In what remained of twilight after my arrival on the ground, I had visited all the wounded Avithin the imme- diate vicinity of my post — all that I could find — ^for the field of battle was in reality a wood, or rather a thicket; and no doubt there were many who escaped my ob- servation. I had done what little was in the power of myself and a score of companions — soldiers of my corps — to alleviate the distress of the sufferers : for, although they were our ene- mies, we had not the slightest feeling of hostility towards them. There had been such in the morning, but it was THE ESCAPE OF EL COJO. 9 gone ere the going down of the sun, leaving only compas- sion in its place. Yielding simply to the instincts of humanity, I had done my best in binding up wounds, many of them that I knew to be mortal; and only when worn out by fatigue, abso- lutely " done up," had I sought a tent, under the shelter of which it was necessary I should pass the night. It was after a long spell of sleep, extending into the mid-hours of the night, that I was awakened from my slumbers, and gave way to the reflections above detailed. It was then that I heard that earnest call for water; it was then I heard the more distant voices, and mingled with them the howling bark of the coyote, and the far more terrible baying of the large Mexican wolf. In concert with such choristers, no wonder the human voices were uttered in tones especially earnest and lugubrious. '^ Agua ! por amor Dlos, agua, aguita /" For the third time I listened to this piteous appeal. It surprised me a little. I thought I had placed a vessel of water within the reach of every one of the wounded wretches who lay near my tent. Had this individual been overlooked 1 Perhaps he had drunk what had been left him, and thirsted for more ? In any case, the earnest accents in which the solicitation was repeated, told me that he was thirsting with a thirst that tortured him. I waited for another, the fourth repetition of the melan- choly cry. Once more I heard it. This time I had Ustened with more attention. I could perceive in the pronunciation a certain provincialism, which proclaimed the speaker a peasant, but one of a special class. The por amor Dios, instead of being draAvled out in the whine of the regular alms-asker, was short and 10 THE GUERILLA OHIBP. slurred. It fell upon the ear as if tlie a in amor was omitted, and also the initia/. letter in aguita. The phrase ran : — "Agua ! por 'mor Dios, 'gua, aguita /" I recognized in those abbreviations the patois of a pecu- liar people, the denizens of the coast of Vera Cruz, and the tierra caliente — the Jarochos. The sufferer did not appear to be at any great distance from my tent — perhaps a hundred paces, or two hundred at most. I could no longer lend a deaf ear to his out- cries. I started up from my catre — a camp-bedstead, which my tent contained — ^groped, and found my canteen, not forgetting the brandy-flask, and, sallying forth into the night, commenced making my way towards the spot where I might expect to find the utterer of the earnest appeal CHAPTER m THE MENACE OP A MONSTER. The tent I was leaving stood in the centre of a circum- scribed clearing. Ten paces from its front commenced the cluipparal — a thicket of thorny shrubs, consisting of acacia, cactus, the agave, yuccas, and copaiva trees, mingled and linked together by lianas and vines of smilax, sarsaparUla, jalap, and the climbing bromelias. There was no path save that made by wild aiumals — the timid Mexican mazame and its pursuer, the cunning coyote. One of these paths I followed. Its windings soon led me astray. Though the moon was shining in a cloudless sky, I was soon in such a maze^ THE MENACE OF A MONSTER. 11 that T could neither tell the du'ection of the tent I had left beMnd, nor that of the sufferer I had sallied out in search of. In sight there was no ohject to guide me. I paused in my steps, and listened for a sound. For some seconds there was a profound silence, unbroken even by the groans of the wounded, some of whose voices were, perhaps, now silent in death. The wolves, too, had suspended their hideous bowlings, as though their quest for prey had ended, and they were busily banqueting on the dead. The stillness produced a painful effect, even more than the melancholy sounds that had preceded it. I almost longed for their renewal. A short while only did this irksome silence continue. It was terminated by the voice I had before heard, this time in the utterance of a different speech. " Soy moriendo ! Lola — Lolita ! a ver te nunca mas en sste mundo /" (I am dying, Dolores — dear Dolores ! never more shall I see you in this world !) '^ Nunca mas en este mundo !" came the words rapidly re-pronoimced, but in a voice of such different intonation as to preclude the possibility of mistaking it either for an echo or repetition by the same speaker. "No, never!" continued the second voice, in the same tone, and in a similar patois. " IS'ever again shall you look upon Lola — you, Calros Vergara, who have kept me from becoming her husband ; who have poisoned her mind against me " " Ah ! it is you ' Eayas ! What has brought you hither 1 Is it to torture a dying man ?" " Carajo 1 I didn't come to do anything of the kind. I came to assure myself that you were dying — that's alL 1? THE GUERILLA CHIEF. Vicente Vilagos, who has escaped from this ugly affair, has just told ine you'd got a bit of lead through your body. I've sought you here to make sure that your wound was fatal — as he said it was." " Santissima ! Eamon Eayas ! that is your errand 1 " " You mistake — I have another : else I shouldn't have risked falling into the hands of those damnable Ameri- canos, who might take a fancy to send one of their in- fernal bullets through my own carcass." " What other errand ? What want you with me ? I am sore wounded — I believe I am dying." "First, as I've told you — to make sure that you are dying ; and secondly, if that be the case, to learn before you do die, what you have done with Lola." " Never. Dead or living, you shall not know from me. Go, go ! par amor Dios ! do not torment a poor wretch in his last moments." " Bah ! Calros Vergara, listen to reason. Remember, we were boys together — scourged in the same school. Your time's up ; you can't protect Lola any more. Why hinder me — I who love her as my own life 1 I'm not so bad as people say, though I am accused of an inclination for the road. That's the fault of the bad government we've got. Come ! don't leave the world like a fool ; and Lola without a protector. Tell me where you've liidden hertell me that, and the n ' " No ! no ! Leave me, Eayas 1 leave me ! If I am to die, let me die in peace." "You won't tell me?" "No— no " "Never mind, then; I'll tind out in time, and no thanks to you. So, go to the devil, and carry your secret §,long with you. If Lola be anywhere witliin the four THE MENACE OP A MONSTER. 13 comers of Mexico, I'll track her up. She don't escape from Rayas the salteadur ! " I could hear a rustling among the bushes : as if the last speaker, having delivered his ultimatum, was taking his departure from the spot. Suddenly the sound ceased ; and the voice once more echoed in my ear — " Carramho ! " exclaimed the man now Imown to me as Ramon Rayas, " I was going away without having accom- pKshed the best half of my errand ! Didn't I come to make certain that your wound was mortal 1 Let's see if that picaro Vilagos has been telling me the truth. Through what part of the body are you perforated 1 " There was no reply ; but from certain indications I could tell that the salteador had approached the pros- trate man, and was stooping down to examine his wounds. I made a movement forward in the direction in which I had heard the strange dialogue ; but checked myself on again hearing the voice of Rayas. ^^ Garajo V ejaculated he, in a tone that betokened some discovery, at the same time one causing disappoint- ment. " That wound of yours is not mortal — not a bit of it ! You may recover from it, if " " You think I have a chance to recover % " eagerly in- terrogated the wounded man — willing to clutch at hope, even when offered by an enemy. " Tliink you have a chance to recover 1 I'm sure of it. The bullet has passed through your thigh — what of that ? It's only a flesh wound. The great artery is not touched. That I'm sure about, or you'd have bled to death long ago. The bone is not broken : else you could no more lift your foot in that fashion, than you could kick yonder cofre 14 THE GUERILLA CHIBP. from the top of Perot6. Oarrambo I you'd be sure to get over it, if " There was an interval of silence, as though the speaker hesitated to pronounce the condition implied by that "if." The peculiar emphasis, placed on the monosyllabic word, told me that he was making pause for a purpose. " If what, Capitan Rayas 1 " The interrogatory came from the wounded man, in a tone trembling between hope and doubt. " If," answered the other, and with emphatic pronuncia- tion, — "if you tell me where you have hidden Dolor es^ There was a groan ; and then in a quivering voice came the rejoinder. " How could that affect my recovery 1 If I am to die, it could not save me. If it be my fate to survive this sad day " " It is not,'" interrupted the salteador, in a firm, loud voice. " No ! This day you must die — this hour — this moment, unless you reveal to me that secret you have so carefully kept. Where is Dolores 1 " " Never ! Eather shall I die than that she should fall uito the power of such a remorseless villain. After that threat, God ! " "Die, then ! and go to the God you are calling upon. Die, Calros Vergara- ! " ****** During the latter part of this singular dialogue, I had been wormiQg myself through the devious alleys of the thicket, and gradually drawing nearer to the speakers. Just as the "Die, then !" reached my ears, I caught sight of the man who had pronounced the terrible menace — as well as of him to whom it was addressed. Both were upon the other gjtle Qf the little opening into THE MENACE OP A MONSTER. 16 which I had entered, the latter lying prostrate upon the grass j the former tending over him, with right arm up- raisedj and a long blade glittering in his grasp. At the sight my sword leaped from its sheath, and I was about to rush forward ; when, on calculating the distance across the glade, I perceived I should be too late. Quick as the thought I changed my weapon, dropping the sword at my feet, and drawing my revolver from its holster in my belt. To cock the pistol, take aim, and pull the trigger, were three actions in one, the result being a crack, a flash, a cloud of smoke, a cry of commingled rage and pain ; and succeeding to these sounds, a loud breaking among the bushes on the opposite side of the opening, as if some individual was making his way through the thicket, with- out staying to seek for a path, and with no other thought than to put space between himself and the form still recumbent upon the sward ! The latter I knew to be Carlos, or Calros, in the patois of his con-paisano. The fugitive was the salteador so lately threatening his life. Had the murderer succeeded in his design ? I saw his blade brandished aloft, as I drew my pistol from its holster. I had not seen the downward thrust ; but, for all that, it might have been mada "With a heart brimful of anxiety, I ran across the glade. I say brimful of anxiety : for something, I could not tell what, had excited my sympathy for Calros Vergara. Partly may it have been from hearing that speech ot sombre but significant import, — " Say moriendo ! Lola ! — Lolita! a ver te nunca mas en este mundof" and partly from admiration for a noble nature, that preferred even 16 THE GUERILLA CHIEF. death to the disclosing of some secret, which might com- promise the welfare of his beloved Dolores. I thought no more of the robher, or his efforts to escape. My whole attention became devoted to the man whom he had marked out for his victim ; and I made all haste to ascertain whether I had been successful in hiadering his fell intent. In a score of seconds I was standing by the side of the prostrate Jarocho, bending over his body. I held the pistol in my hand, my finger still pressing upon the trigger, just as after filing the shot that had disembarrassed him of his enemy. "Are yor safe?" I inquired, in the best Mexican- Spanish I could command. "He has not succeeded in r " Strike, villain ! through my heart, if you wilL Ah ! Dolores ! Better my death, and yours — better far be in your grave than in the embrace of Ramon Eayas ! San- tiseima Madre !—l die — I die ! Mother of God protect— Lola ! — LoUta I quer-i-da herm " The last phrase was pronounced in a whisper, gradually growing so indistinct that I could not make certain of the final words, though Avith my ear close to the lips of the speaker. His voice was no longer heard even in whispers. I raised my head, and looked down upon the face of Calros Vergara. His lips moved no more. His eyes stiU open, and glistening under the light of the moon, seemed no longer to see, no more to mistake me for his enemy. He appeared to be dead. 17 CHAPTEE IV. AN ANGEL VOICE. For some seconds I hung over what I supposed to be an inanimate form ; it was that of a mere youth, and fair to behold, as was also the face, which was conspicuously up- turned to the light of the moon. Notwithstanding its deathly pallor, it exhibited a fine type of manly beauty. The features were regular, the complexion brown, the cheek soft and smooth, the upper lip darkly bedecked with the young growth of virility, the eye rotund and of noble expression, the forehead framed in a garland of glossy black hair, whose luxuriant cui-ls drooped down upon each side of the full roimded throat — all these I saw at a single glance. I saw also a faultless figure, habited in the costume of a peasant rather than of a soldier, but a peasant of a peculiar people, the Jarochos. In the words lately proceeding from the hps of the unfortunate youth, I had recognized the 2^<^itois of this people, and was not surprised at seeing a richly-embroidered shirt of the finest linen, neatly fitting over the young man's breast, a sash of China crape around the waist, cakoneros of velveteen, with rows of bell-buttons, and boots with spurs attached, apparently of silver. Striking and rich as was the costume, it was still only that of the Mexican peasant, A few peculiarities, such as the hat of palm-sinnet, and the checked kerchief, that had covered the back part of the head, both lying near, denoted their ci-devant wearer to be a denizen of the coast lands — in short, a " Jarocho." These observations did not detain me, or only for a second of time, as I bent dovn over the prostrate form. 18 THE GUERILLA CHIEF. My whole design was to examine tlie wound wliich I sup posed to have been given by the robber, and which I really believexl to have caused the Jarocho's death. To my astonishment, I could discover no wound, at least none that was fresh. There was a blotch of coagulated blood on the left thigh, darker in the centre as seen tlirough the torn calzoneros ; but this was from the wound received in battle. WTiere was that just given by the sword of the Sal tea- dor 1 Certainly I saw stains of blood recently spilt. There were several spots upon the white linen shirt, besj)rinkling the plaits upon the bosom, and others upon the sleeves ; also the cheeks of the youth showed a drop or two on their pallid ground. Whence had these blood-drops proceeded 1 I could not guess. I could discover no recent sfcab on the Jarocho's body, not a scratch to account for them ! Had the robber, after all, failed in his fatal thrust 1 Had the death of his intended victim been caused by the shot- wound in the thigh, hastened by the terror of that horrid threat 1 While thus conjecturing, my eye fell upon an object glancing through the grass. I stooped do^A^l and took it up. It was a machete — half sword, half hunting-knife — to be met with in every Mexican house, or seen hanging on the hip of every Mexican cavallero. Was it the weapon of the wounded man, or that I had lately seen in the hand of his enemy 1 I took it up to examine it. The blade was bright : not a sj)eck appeared on its polished surface ! Between my fingers, as they grasped the hilt of riveted horn, 1 felt something wet. Was it dew from the grass ? AN ANGEL VOICE. 19 N"o. The moonlight fell uj^on sometliing darker than clew. Both the haft of the weapon and my fingers encircling it were red as ruhies. It was hlood, and fresh from the veins of a human heing ! As it could not be the blood of Calros, I concluded it must be that of Kamon Eayas. My bullet must have been true to its aim. While thus occupied with conjectures, a new voice fell upon my ear, as different from either of those lately listened to as music from the rudest noise. "CaLros! dear Calros!" called the voice, "was it you I heard 1 Speak, Calros ! valga me Dios ! That shot ! Surely it was not for him 1 No— no — I heard him speak- ing alter it. Calros ! Answer nie, if you are near. It is I who call — I, your own Lola !" Had it been the voice of an angel coming out of the chapparal, or from the sky above it could not have sounded sweeter, nor tlixilled me with a stranger impulse. For some seconds I remained u'resolute as to what answer should be made to the pathetic appeal. I hesitated to apprise the speaker of the presence of Calros. Only his body was present ; his spirit was not there ! What a sad spectacle for the eye of the loved Dolores — the loving Dolores — hoAv could I doubt it ? Lookmg upon the handsome Jarocho — graceful even in the attitude of death — I could not wonder at the earnestness of that feminine voice, pronouncing him her " querido Qalros." Once more it fell upon my ear, continuing the passionate appeal. " Calros ! Calros ! Why do you not answer me 1 It is Lola — your own Lola !" "Lola!" I responded, yielding to an irresistible emo- tion, "this way; come this way I Calros is here." 20 THE GUERILLA CHIEF. An exclamatory plirase, expressing gratitude to tlie "Mother of God," was heard in response; and quickly fol- lowing the words, a female form, fair as the mother of men, parting the bushes that bordered the glade, stepped out into the opening. CHAPTER V. AN UNPLEASANT MISUNDERSTANDING. Yes, fail' as the mother of men — it is no exaggeration to say it — was she who, answering my summons, had emerged from the shadowy chapparal, and now stood exposed to my view under the full light of the moon. It was a full moon — a Mexican moon, that delights to shine upon lovely woman; and no lovelier could its beams have ever embraced than she who now stood before me. It was beauty of a tj^pe peculiar to the land in which I viewed it — peculiar even to a bingle province — the tierra caliente, or coast-region, of Vera Cruz. The image of Lola is still upon the tablets of my memory, permanently impressed as I saw her at that moment ; per- haps more deeply graven upon my heart as I beheld her afterwards. The picture presented to my eye, and viewed under the moon's mellow liglit, was that of a girl just approaching the completeness of womanhood — or rather having com- pleted it, for there seemed nothing wanting to make the perfect woman. A figure of medium height, neither sylphKke nor slender, but of full physical outline, in points even imposing. I do not deny that there is something sensual in tliis AN UNPLEASANT MISUNDERSTANDING. 21 type, and I know there are those who incline more to the intellectual. For my part, I doubt the honesty of such ethereal admirers ; and must still cling to the belief that bold elliptical outline is the true ideal of beauty in the feminine form. That of Lola, seen agaiast the verdant background of the chapparal, exhibited this curve in all its luxuriant windings. It was displayed in the tournure of the head, the cheeks, the throat, and shoulders ; it embraced bosom, waist, and limbs ; it ran over her whole figui'e — a living, moving curve, Kke the undulations of some beautiful ser- pent, always tapering to an end, but never terminating. It was the curve discovered by Hogarth, though but poorly expressed in his pictures. It was perfectly pre- sented in the outlines of the lovely apparition that came before my eyes in that moonlit glade, on the field of Cerro Gordo. Her dress did not destroy the voluptuous line. It could not, even had it been one of those monstrous con- trivances of fashion for concealing the too-often distorted form. But it was not thus designed. The sleeveless chemise of snow-white cambric, and the translucent skirt of thin muslin, Hke the gown of Nora Creina, left — " Every beauty free To sink or swell as heaven pleases." The slight scarf of bluish grey cotton (rebozo) drawn over the crown of the head, and falling loosely down in front, scarcely interfered with the symmetrical outlines of the bosom; while behind, two thick plaits of hah-, escaping from under it, hung down to the level of its fringed ends, terminating in a tie of bright red ribbons. At first sight, I thought the girl was barefoot. The 22 THE GUERILLA CHIBP. skirt and petticoat [enagua) permitted to be seen beneath them a pair of statuesque anldes, nude to mid-knee. But although thus stockingless, I soon perceived that her feet were in satin slippers, hidden behind the herbage. liTeither the naked ankles, nor the slight but costly cliaussure, gave me any surprise, however inappropriate either might be deemed to a walk through the thorny chapparaL I knew that both were in the fashion of the country. At the moment, I was not thinking of either circum- stance, nor of the incongruity of bare feet in satin slippers. My eyes and thoughts Avere turned liigher, gazing on a face of peculiar loveliness. It was a beauty I remember well, but can ill describe. To say that the complexion was a golden brown, with crimson in the cheeks ; that the lips were like a pair of rose-leaves convexly curving against each other, and when parted, displaying a row of pearly teeth; that both eye- brows and lashes were crescent-shaped and black as ebony ; that the eyes were of the same hue, but sparkling with liquid light ; that the nose was slightly aquiline ; the throat full and boldly roTinded upward — to say all this, would only be to state a series of physical facts, which can give no idea of the loveliness of that face. It was the combination of these features — their mutual adaptation, their play, that produced the charm which I have called peculiar. And it was so. Even with a heart at that time not wholly free, it enchained me — and I stood admiring. The face was near, and the moon full enough upon it to enable me to view it with distinctness. I could trace every fea- tl^re, every shade of expression, even to the quick changing of the colour upon her cheek. I stood in silence gazing on this apparition so unex- AN UNPLEASANT MISUNDERSTANDING. 23 pected, so lovely. Surprise, along with admiration, re- strained my speech. For a time the girl was equally silent, though her silence had a different cause. Her eyes were fixed, not upon m^ hut upon the form at my feet. She had only glanced f^' me, and then quickly transferred her gaze to the prostrate figure. It was a look of eager inquiry, lasting not long. In a second it changed to one of recognition, and the instant afterwards her eyes filled with an expression of intense agony. She saw Calros — her beloved Calros — prostrate, his face besprinkled Avith blood. It was Calros, silent, but not asleep ; speechless and motionless ; perhaps dead 1 " Dead ! Mother of God, dead ! " were the words that, in accents of anguish, came pealing from the lips of tola. Her eyes flashed upward. In an instant the expression changed — grief giving place to indignation — something still more dire. I saw that I was myself its object. "With astonishment did I perceive this. It had not occurred to me to reflect on my compromising position. I was stUl standing over the body of the Jarocho, blood-besprinkled as it Avas. Less than five minutes before, Calros's voice had been heard, along with that of another man, mingling in excited dialogue. A shot had been fired. I held a pistol in my hand, from the muzzle of which a slight film of sulphureous smoke could be seen stringing outward. Calros appeared to be dead. Who but I could have been his slayer 1 I heard the word asesino ringing in my ears, with other epithets of like fearful signification, as the girl rushed up to the spot where I stood. There was no weapon in her 24 THE GUERILLA OHIEP. hand, or I miglit have fancied she was about to strike me. Even with her clenched fist, I was for a while uncertain whether this was not her intention ; and to avoid her, I stepped hack. She stood for some seconds looking me straight in the face. Behind the parting of her tightly compressed lips was displayed a double row of teeth, that, despite their pearly whiteness, gleamed fiercely in the moonlight ; while her eyes, as they flashed, seemed to send forth jets of living fire! " I am innocent !" I called out. " It is not my act ; it was not I who " "Asesino! monstre ! Whoever thou art; false fiend, to deny a deed of which — madre de Dios ! — I have been almost a witness. There — there — the weapon still in your hands — his blood freshly spilt !" "It is not his blood," I replied, hastily interrupting her. But she heard not Wq rejoinder ! for suddenly turning from me, she flung herself upon the prostrate form, drown- ing my voice with her wild exclamations. " Dead ! Calros ! dear Calros ! Are you dead ? Speak to me one word — a whisper, to say you still live ! Ay de mi ! it is too true. No answer — no breath ! Wliere is the wound that has robbed you of life, and me of my only friend ? Where ?— where 1 " And as she contmued to give voice to these detached exclamations, she proceeded, as if mechanically, to examine the wounds of the unconscious Jarocho. 25 CHAPTER VL A DEVOTED WOMAN. I FELT the awlcwardness of the situation. Appearances were against me. Some explanation must be given. Stepping nearer, I bent down by the side of the young girl ; and as soon as her silence gave me an opportunity of being heard, repeated my asseveration. "It is not Ms blood," I said, "but that of another. Your friend has received no wound — at least none lately given, and least of all by me. His death — if he be dead — has been caused by this." I pointed to the dark spot on his thigh. " It is a bullet wound received in the battle." " The blood upon his bosom — his cheeks — you see — 'tis fresh?" "I repeat it is not Ms. I speak truly." My earnest utterance seemed to make an impression upon her. " Whose then ? whose blood 1 " she cried out. " That of a man who was in the act of killing Cabos, when my pistol frustrated his intent. I fear after all he may have been successful, though not exactly according to his design. He intended to have stabbed the wounded man with his macliete.^^ I took the mongrel sword, and held it up to the light. "There's blood on its blade, as you see ; but it is that of him who would have been the true assassin, had not my bullet disabled his arm. Have you ever seen this weapon before?" " nor ; I could not tell. 'Tis a machete. They're all alike." 26 THE GUEKILLA CHIEF. " Have you ever heard the name of Eamon Eayas 1 " The answer was an exclamation — almost a shriek ! ** You know him, then ? " " Ramon Eayas ! oh, the fiend — he — it was he. He vowed to kill Calros. Cabos ! Calros ! Has he fulfilled his vow 1 " Once more the girl bent over the body of the Jarocho ; and leaning low, recklessly placed her lips in contact with his blood-stained cheek. At the same time her arms fondly flung around, seemed to enfold the corpse in a loving em- brace. Had he been alive and conscious, with the cer- tainty of recovering, I could have envied him that sweet entwining. My impulse was of a holier nature. If I could not restore the dead, I might give comfort to the living. But was he dead ? It was not till that moment I had doubted it. As I stooped over the body, I heard a sound that resem- bled a sigh. It could not be the sobbing of the bereaved Lola — though this also was audible. The gui had again raised her head, and was holding it a little to one side, while the sound that had attracted my attention seemed to proceed from a Jifierent direction — in fact from the lips of the man supposed to be dead. I lowered my ear to his face, and listened for a repeti- tion of the sound. It came in a moment as I had before heard it — a sort of sigh half suppressed, like the breath struggling from a bosom over- weighted. "Lola," I whispered, "your Cabos is not dead. He still breathes." I needed not to communicate this intelligence. The ear of afl'ection had been bent, keenly as my own. By the sudden brightening of her countenance, I could perceivu A DEVOTED WOMAN. 27 Aat Lola had heard that same sound, and was listening to catch it again, as if her life depended on its repetition. She had mechanically pushed me aside, so that her ear might he closer to the mute lips of Calros. "One moment," I said, gently raising her from her re- cumhent position ; " perhaps he has only fainted, I have a remedy here ; a stimulant that may serve to restore him. Permit me to administer it." I drew forth the flask which providentially I had hrought from the tent. It contained " Catalan hrandy," one of the most potent of spirits. Silently hut readily she glided out of the way, watching my movements like some affectionate sister who assists the physician hy the couch of an invalid brother. I felt the pulse of the wounded man. My medical skill was not extensive ; but I could perceive that its beating, though feeble, was not irregular — not flickering, like a lamp that was destined soon to become extinguished. Lola read hope in my looks : her own became brighter. I pulled out the stopper. I appUed the flask to the lips of the unconscious Cabos, pouiing into his mouth a por- tion of the Catalonian spirit. The efiect was almost instantaneous. His bosom began to heave, his breath issued forth more freely, his glazed eyes showed signs of reanimation. The girl could scarcely be restrained from repeating her fond embraces. Presently the eyes of the invalid seemed to see — almost to recognize. His lips moved, as though he was endea- vouring to speak, but as yet there came forth no sound. Once more I applied the flask, pouring into his throat nearly a wine-glassful of the Catalan. 28 THE GUERILLA CHIEF. In less than a score of seconds tlie dose produced its effect — ^made known by a movement throngliout the frame of the Jarocho, and a muttered whisper proceeding froni his lips. Again the girl would have strangled him with her pas- sionate caresses. Judging from the joy with which she witnessed his resuscitation, her affection for hini must have been boundless. " Keep away from him ! " I said, adding to the verbal caution a slight exertion of physical force. "There is scarcely an ounce of blood in his body, that is why he has fainted ; that and the shock caused by the threat of " I did not choose to disquiet her by repeating what appeared to be a dreaded name. "Excitement of any kind may prove fatal. If you love Mm stay out of his sight ; at least for a while, till he recover strength sufficient to bear your presence." How idle in me to have made use of these words, " if you love liitn ! " The appearance of the handsome Jarocho, handsome even with death's pallor on his brow, forbade any other belief; while the beautiful Jarocha, beautiful through all the changes of anger and hate, despair and hope, showed by her every action that Calros Vergara was the loved one of her hfe. " Keep out of sight," I again requested : " pray do not go near him till I return. The night air is unfavourable to his recovery. I must seek assistance, and have him carried into my tent. I entreat you, Senorita, do not make yourself known to him now, or the shock may be fatal" The look given by the girl, in answer to my solicitations, produced upon me an impression at once vivid and peculiar. It was a nungling