XVI

  WHO GOES THERE?

  The world is but a huge playground, after all; and just as the sympathyof those who witness a fight between two boys--one of whom is a bigfellow and a reputed bully, while the other is a plucky youngster butone-half his opponent's size--invariably goes with the smaller andweaker combatant, so it is even amongst nations. Thus, early in the pastcentury, when the tiny States of Spanish America were keenly strugglingwith the mother-country in their endeavour to cast off the Spanish yoke,practically the whole world wished them the success which eventuallycrowned their efforts.

  It seems ridiculous to call them "tiny" States when the smallest ofthose of which we are treating--the Republics of _Central_America--could find room for all the counties of Wales; while, if wewere able to set down the whole of England upon the largest, we shouldfind not only that it fitted in comfortably, but that the foreign Statewould yet have a goodly slice of land to spare--sufficient, at any rate,to accommodate three or four cities of the size of London. I call themtiny, therefore, solely because they are such when compared with othercountries on the American Continent, such as Canada, the United States,and Brazil.

  During the years 1820 and 1821 a very keen spirit of independence wasmanifested in those regions, and by 1823 the last link of the rustychain which had bound those colonies to Spain was snapped altogetherbeyond repair; and then, for a time, Central America became part of theState of Mexico. One by one, however, the colonies withdrew, and in 1824the independent Republic of Central America was formed, which, in itsturn, was dissolved; and ever since the States have been continually atwar--either with their neighbours or amongst themselves.

  It is these incessant wars and revolutions which have given the countryits present rather bad name, and have convinced those who happened tosympathise with the inhabitants when they were fighting for theirindependence that, after all, they had fared better even under the lamegovernment of Spain than they have done under their own.

  The present-day native of Central America can scarcely be said to be animprovement on the inhabitant of 1824. He still retains the fire and ireof the Spaniard in his blood--in fact, he is nothing short of anunfortunate mixture of the fiery Spaniard and the extremely restlessIndian. Small wonder, then, that "peace" is quite a luxury in thoseparts, and that revolutions break out periodically.

  In Nicaragua--the country with which my tale is concerned--this isespecially the case. One year passed without a revolution is a rarity;and I have gone through certainly not less than four such outbreaks.While the trouble exists it is decidedly inconvenient and uncomfortablefor the foreigner, but the real danger is often sadly exaggerated.During one of these disturbances, nevertheless, I narrowly escapedcoming into serious conflict with the authorities--and all through aboyish freak, which at any time would have been boyish, but amountedalmost to madness when played in the very heart of a town under martiallaw. When I first set foot on Central American soil, however, mymajority was still many months ahead of me, and I had not yet done withthat period of puerile frivolity through which most youths have to pass.Thus I will offer no other excuse, but will merely relate what tookplace.

  A pig--a common or garden pig--was at the bottom of it all. The nativesare very fond of pork indeed, and nearly every household boasts of atleast one porker, which is allowed the entire run of the house andlooked upon almost as "one of the family." The air in the town where Iwas staying at the time had suddenly thickened with rumours of war; andit was a well-known fact that some thousands of men were ready toshoulder their rifles at a given signal and, with a few well-triedveterans at their head, to make a mad and murderous rush upon anythingand everything belonging to the Government.

  In such cases nothing is too bad for either party, excepting perhapsinterference with foreigners, whom, owing to one or two severe lessonsreceived of late years, the natives have now learned to respect.Fusillades in the centre of a town, a sudden charge with the bayonet ina thronged market-place, the unexpected firing of a mine, and similarproofs of the "patriotism" of one party or the other, may be expected atany moment; and although pretending to inclusion in the list ofcivilised nations, either party will spurn the idea of notice or warningprevious to the bombardment of a town. Every one is on the alert, andthe tension is trying indeed if it happens to be one's first"revolution."

  Bloodthirsty natives, speaking scarcely above a whisper, may be seen insmall groups at almost every street corner, and in such quarters of thetown where reside known sympathisers with the attacking party muchmilitary movement is noticeable. Every few hundred yards are stationedpickets of gendarmes or barefooted _soldados_; and after dusk, no matterwho you be or what your errand, you stand every chance of a bulletshould you fail to give prompt satisfaction on being challenged with theusual _quien vive?_

  And so it was on the occasion to which I have alluded. Everybody'snerves were strung up to a painful pitch, and any unusual noise--anysound, almost, above a half-smothered cough--would bring fifty or sixtyreckless gendarmes, with fixed bayonets, to the spot in a very briefinterval. It was generally looked upon as certain that an assault uponthe town--in which one half the inhabitants were willing, nay, evenanxious to join--would commence before morning; and an ominous silenceprevailed.

  Then it was that my "little joke" or scheme was hatched. I was indulgingin a quiet game of "cannons" on a small French billiard-table in myhotel, and during the game had been several times annoyed by theproprietor's favourite pig, which insisted every now and then onstrolling beneath the table, to emerge on the other side quiteunexpectedly and bump heavily against my legs just as I was squaring forsome difficult shot. The brute had done this at least four times, withthe result that my opponent was many points to the good. I had oftenlicked him at the same game before, so the reader must not imagine thatI am merely excusing my own play--it was the pig's fault, without adoubt, and I was beginning to lose my temper.

  "I'll teach that pig a lesson when the game is over," I remarked to myopponent; and, in effect, I had soon put away my cue, and, cornering theporker, fastened a piece of cord to his hind trotter. A large emptybiscuit-tin and a bunch of Chinese crackers did the rest--the tin beingsecured to the other end of the line and the crackers nestling snuglyinside the tin.

  The natives who stood around watching these preparations evidentlyforesaw certain results which my boyish vision failed to reach, forthey whispered and laughed to one another, and at intervals, rubbingtheir hands together with glee, would exclaim, "A good joke." "Eh! agood joke, you see!"

  The whole town was startled a few minutes later by the uproar, and theshouts and laughter of those who witnessed the porker's departure fromthe hotel.

  Lighting the tiny fuse attached to the crackers, I put them back againinto the tin, and a kick at the latter was sufficient to startle the hogoff at a gallop down the street.

  The slight pull on his hind leg caused by the weight of the tinevidently annoyed him, and, wishing to get away from it, he ran thefaster.

  Boom! boom! The biscuit-tin swung from side to side at every pace, andeach time it struck the ground with a noisy report which in itself wassufficient to arouse the already alarmed town.

  Then, the fuse having burned down, the crackers commenced business.Bang! bang! Burr-rr--bang! Burr-rr--bang-bang-BANG! they went, thevibrations of the tin adding volume to each detonation; and it would bedifficult indeed to imagine a better imitation of a distant fusillade.The frightened hog only went the faster.

  I was running behind, endeavouring to keep up with the pig, for I didnot wish to lose any of the fun; but he soon out-distanced me, althoughI was fortunate enough to be within ear-shot when the crackers gavetheir final kick.

  Bang! bang! Burr--rr--bang! Bang! BANG!

  Then began the fun. The inhabitants crowded to their doors to inquirein which direction the attack on the town had commenced, and themilitary were tearing hither and thither, like so many madmen. Biggenerals in their shirt-sleeves galloped through the streets on littlehorses,
collecting their men; pieces of artillery were rushed out of thebarracks and held in readiness; scouts went out to reconnoitre in everyconceivable direction, and the military band, playing all the nationalairs within their ken, paraded the public square, halting every now andthen so that an officer might read to the public the Commandante'sorders to the effect that all the inhabitants must remain indoors underpain of all sorts of outrageous and impossible penalties.

  In view of the latter, however, I deemed it wise to give up my chase andreturn to my hotel, there to await developments; and as I retraced mysteps cries of _El enemigo! El enemigo!_ hailed me at almost every pace.Hundreds of questions as to the whereabouts of the attacking forces werehurled at me as I went, but I dared not stop to respond, or without adoubt I should have betrayed myself. At the onset, boylike, I hadconsidered this a "splendid joke," but now the alarm was so widespreadthat I did not know whether to feel startled by the result or flatteredto think I had succeeded in putting an entire town in an uproar.

  I thought of the pleasure that would be experienced by the ordinary"romp" at home were he able to make so vast an impression with hiseveryday practical jokes; and it was to me a matter of tremendous wonderthat a harmless biscuit-tin, a common or garden firework, and a"domestic" pig could possibly combine to cause such intense excitement.

  With very great difficulty I managed to pass the various picketsstationed along the streets, being detained by each one forcross-examination; and ere I reached my hotel I was overtaken by half acompany of _soldados_ returning to barracks with a prisoner. Then myconscience began to prick me.

  "This has gone rather too far," I thought. "I did not intend to do anyone an injury, but only desired to teach that wretched porker a lesson."In fact, I felt distinctly uncomfortable as I trudged along, andsomewhat alarmed at this new turn of events; and I resolved that in thefuture I would look ahead before attempting even the commonest practicaljoke.

  When I reached the spot where the next picket was stationed, I wassurprised to find that the men failed to challenge me. I was gettingquite used to the "Who goes there?" which had met me at every streetcorner, and the absence of it in this case made me somewhat suspicious.The explanation was not long in coming. I found them all in fits oflaughter; and, availing myself of the opportunity which their mirthafforded me, I made inquiries as to the name of the prisoner who hadbeen marched past me a few minutes ago. My question provoked moremirth, but I eventually secured the information, which had the effect ofadding my mirth to theirs, for I learned that the prisoner was--_a pigwith a tin tied to his leg_.

  This pig, I was informed, was the cause of the whole alarm. There was noattack--in fact, there was no enemy near enough to the town, as yet, toindulge in an assault. All was a practical joke--some one had let thispig loose with a biscuit-tin tied to his leg, and this had started thealarm. The porker had been run down and lassoed by the military on theoutskirts of the town, so that it was all over now--_excepting that theauthorities were looking for the perpetrator_, or the originator of thescare.

  Realising now the extent of my folly, I, who hitherto had been laughingup my sleeve at the discomfiture and alarm of others, was in my turngenuinely alarmed, and all the way back to my hotel I was wondering asto what would be my best course of action--foreseeing, whichever way Iturned for a solution, visions of heavy fines, probable imprisonment,and possible banishment from the country altogether.

  On reaching the hotel I was hailed by many of those who had witnessed"the start," and consequently knew my connection with the affair. Theysoon posted me as to what had happened during my absence.

  Ere the pig and myself had been gone five minutes, a picket of soldiersmade a rush upon the hotel, went inside, and, closing every exit,informed the occupants that every one must consider himself under arrestuntil the real originator of the "scare" was discovered. The officerremarked that he knew for a fact that the matter began there, andalthough the pig had not yet been caught it had been recognised as"_belonging to the proprietor's family_."

  Then, to the surprise of every one concerned, a certain Colonel Moyal, anative keenly opposed to the Government and a suspected revolutionist,stepped forward and declared that he had carried the whole thing throughfrom beginning to end, so was prepared to take the consequences.

  Needless to say, my champion was arrested and marched off to theCabildo; and I was informed that the plucky fellow had done this toshield me, merely to keep me out of trouble because he had taken a fancyto me.

  Not for this, however, would I let him remain in his unenviableposition. It did not take me long to resolve that, to be honourable, Imust myself bear the consequences of my own folly; and in a very shorttime afterward I was interviewing the Commandante. That official, inwhose favour I had long since made it my business to firmly establishmyself, informed me that it was then too late at night to take anyevidence, or, in fact, to move at all in the matter; but that he wouldattend to me at eight o'clock next morning.

  The following day at the appointed hour I waited on him, told him I wasthe real culprit, secured the colonel's release, paid a fine of a fewdollars, and by nine o'clock was back again in my hotel; and when I satdown with the Colonel that night to a special _cena_ to which I hadinvited him--intending in some measure to prove to him my gratitude forhis generosity and esteem--I made a rather boyish speech in which Iregretted tremendously the Colonel's having passed an exceedinglyuncomfortable night in prison on my account, and my inability to releasehim the night before.

  Moyal, to my intense surprise, replied that he had to _thank me_ for theopportunity I had given him. "Of course," said he, "I should not like tosee you in trouble, and would have done anything in my power to keep youout of it, but I must admit that my motive was not the generous one thathas been attributed to me. It was a rather selfish motive, you see,between you and me. I am a moving spirit in this revolution which isbrewing, and I have important business with the Government soldiersinside the Cabildo. In the ordinary course, since I am known as arevolutionist, I cannot possibly get into open or secret communicationwith them--so of course I had to get arrested, and you gave me thatchance!"

  I was about to ask him, boylike, whether he was successful in hismission, when he added, "The only pity is that you didn't let me staythere a bit longer--but you were not to know, so I appreciate yourpromptness."

  However, I had reason to believe afterwards that he had not succeededin his object, which, I have no doubt, was to "buy" all the _soldados_over to his side, for up to this day the political party to which theColonel belonged is out of power, though it has repeatedly made effortsto get in.