CHAPTER SIXTY TWO.
ESCAPING THE TOILS.
Left to himself, Don Rafael calmly considered the circumstances thatsurrounded him. He could not help feeling a conviction that his chancesof escape were of the most doubtful kind; and that, unless someunforeseen accident should favour him, he had but a very poor prospectof being able to extricate himself from the danger that threatened.Such an accident he had no reason to expect.
The sun was now high in the heavens, and his bright beams penetratingthrough the foliage, illuminated even the darkest labyrinths of theforest. It would be eight or nine hours before he would set again; forit was near the summer solstice, when the days of the year are longest.Don Rafael now regretted having slept so long. Had he awoke beforesunrise, there might still have been time to have secured his retreat.He further regretted not having declared his name and rank to the twomen who had just parted from him. It was possible that, by the offer ofa large recompense, he might have induced them to attempt making anentrance into the hacienda Del Valle, and warning Lieutenant Veraegui ofhis perilous situation.
He was far from suspecting at that moment, that a providential chancewas about doing for him the very thing which his reflection had now toolate suggested he should have done before.
Notwithstanding the danger in which he was placed, Don Rafael, who hadnot eaten for many long hours, began to feel hungered. This, however,gave him but little concern; since in the tropical forests of Mexico,the anona, the corosollo, the aguacate, and other fruit-bearing trees,yield spontaneously their delicious produce, sufficient for thesustenance of human life.
These reflections once made, Don Rafael was not the man to waste time invain regrets. He resolved to act at once.
He hesitated only an instant, to reflect upon what he should do with hishorse. At first he thought of abandoning him; but then it occurred tohim, that while passing along his tortuous track through the chapparal,the animal might prove useful. He might serve as a sort of moveablerampart, behind which he could shelter himself from the bullets of thecarbines, that might be fired by his assailants. Moreover, should hesucceed in getting clear of the thicket, by flinging himself in thesaddle he would still have a chance of escape, through the superiorswiftness of Roncador. For this reason he decided upon going in searchof the horse.
The thicket in which he had hidden him was at no great distance from thecedrela; and finding his own traces, Don Rafael returned on them withstealthy tread. The silence that reigned throughout the forest was forthe moment profound; and he knew that the slightest sound, even thesnapping of a stick, might betray his presence to some lurking foe.
He had advanced only a few paces, when a vague clamour of voices reachedhis ear. He listened for some seconds; but as the voices did not appearto come any nearer, he again moved forward.
At length he succeeded in reaching the thicket, where Roncador had beenleft. The poor animal, though devoured by thirst--and suffering fromhunger as well--had made no effort to free himself from his fastenings.He was still standing by the tree, to which Don Rafael had attached him.At the approach of his master he uttered a joyous neigh.
Notwithstanding the fear which Don Rafael had that the noise might beheard by his pursuers, he could not help feeling a joyful emotion atbeing thus saluted by his old companion in many a scene of peril; and,while caressing the horse, he felt a certain remorse at the _role_ hehad just designed him to play. It was, however, one of those crises,when the instinct of self-preservation is at variance with the desire ofthe heart.
Leading his steed by the bridle, Don Rafael advanced as rapidly as waspossible through the labyrinth of bushes and climbing plants thatthickly covered the ground. The sun occasionally coming in view,enabled him to guide his course towards the south--the direction whichZapote had counselled him to take.
The advice given by the latter seemed to Don Rafael worth following. Ifhe could only pass through the line of those seeking for him, and reachthe cane-brake on the Ostuta, he might there conceal himself until aftersunset. By night he might again attempt to enter the hacienda, and witha better chance of success; since he was now aware of its beingsurrounded by the insurgent guerilleros.
In order to give him more freedom in his movements, he cast away hissword-belt and scabbard; and with the bare blade in one hand, and hisbridle-rein in the other, he continued to advance as silently aspossible. He had determined to make use of his pistols--only as a lastresource.
It was not long, however, before he was forced out of his directcourse--not by the thickness of the jungle, but on hearing in front ofhim the voices of several men. These calling to one another, appearedto be directing a movement among themselves, as if advancing towards himin an extended deployment.
Singly, each of those who were approaching would have caused Don Rafaelno more uneasiness than does the solitary hunter the lion whoreluctantly retreats before him; but it was evident from the number ofvoices that a large party of men were in the wood; and should they allfall upon him simultaneously, there would be no alternative but tosuccumb. He therefore renounced the desperate idea that for a momenthad occurred to him: of rushing upon the nearest, and putting an end tohim without noise.
He perceived, at the same time, that, in the midst of the densechapparal where he then was, a resolute man would have a decidedadvantage over enemies who were so scattered, and who were constantlywarning him of their whereabouts as they advanced; while he, keepingsilence, left them ignorant of his own.
The men were evidently getting nearer, and Don Rafael heard their voiceswith anxiety. He listened also to hear if any others replied to them inthe opposite direction; since in that case he would be in danger ofbeing surrounded. He knew not the number of his enemies; but he couldtell by the sounds that their cordon had not yet been completely drawnaround him, and there might still be a chance of escaping from it.
While thus listening, with all the eagerness of a man whose life wasdepending on the acuteness of his hearing, a noise reached him, which heknew was not made by a human being. It was the distant and sonoroustapping of a woodpecker upon the trunk of a dead tree--a sound oftenheard in the depths of an American forest. The sound fell upon his earlike the voice of a friend. It seemed to say that, in the directionwhence it proceeded, no human creature would be found to trouble thesolitude of the forest.
The hint was sufficient for one skilled in wood-lore, as Don Rafael was.Without a moment's hesitation, he faced in the direction of the sound,and commenced advancing towards it--guided by the measured strokes givenby the beak of the bird.
He was still at some distance from the dead-wood, where the woodpeckerwas employed seeking its food, when the bird, perceiving him, flew offamidst the trees.
Don Rafael now halted, and once more bent his ear to listen. To his joyhe perceived that the voices of the searchers had receded to a distance.This proved that he had passed out of their way; and, if they shouldnot find reason to return on their tracks, his chances of escape werebecoming more favourable.
To make more sure of not being followed, he adopted a ruse, which he hadlearnt during his Indian campaigns. Taking up two dry sticks ofguiacuni wood, he struck one against the other, thus producing a soundthat resembled the tapping of the woodpecker's beak; and, afterrepeating this for a number of times, he returned by a detour to thesame direction from which he had been forced on hearing the voices.
After a half-hour's advance through the thicket, he halted to refreshhimself by eating some fruits of the pawpaw that grew by the path.Their juicy pulp served for a moment to satisfy the craving of bothappetites--relieving at the same time both hunger and thirst.
Mid-day had already passed, and the sun was beginning to fling his raysobliquely through the branches, when Don Rafael resumed his route; andshortly after, through the last straggling trees of the forest, heperceived the crystal current of the Ostuta running its tranquil coursebetween banks thickly covered with tall bamboos.
The breeze blowing freely ov
er the water stirred the long lance-likeleaves of the gigantic canes; among whose moveable stems the caimans hadsought protection from the hot sun, and were awaiting the freshness ofthe night to return to the channel of the river. Here, too, like them,was Don Rafael to find an asylum that would shelter him till sunset.
He was not long in choosing a place of concealment. The selvage of theforest through which he had come, extended to within a few paces of thebamboo brake; and, crossing the intervening space as rapidly aspossible, the fugitive plunged in among the canes.
Once hidden by the gigantic reeds, he felt more secure; and had now anopportunity to reconnoitre to some extent a portion of the surroundingneighbourhood. From certain large rocks, which he saw lying in themid-channel of the stream, he recognised the place, and knew that he wasnot far distant from the ford of the Ostuta--where, two years before,the pursuit of Arroyo and his brigands had more than once conducted him.He saw, moreover, on the opposite side of the stream, the rude tent ofthe guerillero chief, and the horsemen of his band galloping up and downthe bank. The sight aroused all his fiery passions, and he could notrestrain himself from raising his clenched hand, and stretching his armin menace across the water.
All at once he heard shouts behind him, and the trampling of horses.These sounds were caused by the party sent in pursuit of him by Arroyo,and who were now returning to the camp. It need not be said that theyhad been unsuccessful, as they brought back with them, instead of theColonel and the two runaways, only Suarez and Pacheco, still alive andwell, but terribly frightened.
For better security, Don Rafael advanced still further among thebamboos, carefully parting them with his hands as he moved forward; andthe horsemen, though they rode past along the bank, only a shortdistance from where he was concealed, had not the slightest suspiciontheir enemy was so near. The most sharp-sighted eye could not havediscovered his place of concealment.
Still continuing to listen, he heard the plashing of the horses as theyforded the crossing; and a few minutes after a profound silence reignedover the scene.