CHAPTER XXIV.
LOST IN THE CHAPARRAL.
An hour later Billie and Pancho Villa stood before Gen. Sanchez. It wasthen ten o'clock and the sun would arise shortly before five. NeitherBillie nor Villa had any doubt that Don Rafael would carry out histhreat to execute the two young Americans. It was in keeping with hisprevious actions and with the so-called laws of the revolution.
They had encountered some difficulty in getting through the city lines,but Villa was equal to the occasion and they reached the Federal picketsin safety. Here they gave their names and were quickly escorted to Gen.Sanchez's headquarters.
The general had lain down to take a few minutes' sleep, but had leftword to be awakened if anything was heard from the boys.
Briefly Billie told his story.
"What can be done to save my friends?" he asked.
Gen. Sanchez looked grave.
"It is a hard problem," he replied. "We have been trying all day toforce our way into the city, but have not yet succeeded, as you know. Itseems hardly possible that we should be able to carry the lines betweennow and dawn."
"Still there is a way," said Villa.
The general regarded him with considerable surprise.
"How?" he asked.
"By the bed of the river."
"What do you mean?"
"The river," explained Pancho, "runs right beside the walls of thebarracks. The water on this side is not so deep but that it is possiblefor men to march right up to the walls of the barracks, if they know thechannel. I know it. If I had a hundred men who were not afraid I couldcarry the barracks.
"But," he continued, "in order to lead this force to the barracksunobserved, it would be necessary for you first to attack the city fromthe opposite side. While the fighting is going on fiercely over thereand the revolutionists are striving to prevent you from entering thecity on the east, I will lead this hundred men into the barracks. Assoon as we have rescued the Americans we will attack the revolutionistsin the rear! You know what the result will be?"
"Undoubtedly!"
"Then you agree?"
"Yes; but I hardly know how to withdraw a hundred men from any one placeon our attacking line. Our force is small as it is."
"I wish some of the rangers were over here," exclaimed Billie. "They'dhelp, I know."
"Yes," replied Gen. Sanchez, "but that is impossible. If any Americansoldiers were to help us it would be almost as bad at this particulartime as though they helped the other side. We shall have to do the bestwe can. I will promise you fifty, and a hundred if possible. Return at3:30 o'clock and I will give the order."
"I need a hundred men," declared Villa as he and Billie left thegeneral's presence, "and I don't see how I can do with less."
"I'll tell you!" suddenly exclaimed Billie. "Maybe the rangers cannotcome as rangers to help rescue Donald and Adrian, but they can come asfriends of mine and I believe they will. I have at least five hours toget across the river and bring them back. I am going to try. It is theonly way. I wonder if we can find a horse!"
"_Cierto!_" replied Villa. "We'll take the first good one we see!"
This they did, and ten minutes later Billie was again headed for theAmerican shore.
Billie had been over the ground between Presidio and Presidio del Norteso many times that he thought he knew it perfectly, and as a result,although the night was dark, he put spurs to his mount and was quicklybeyond the Federal outposts.
But the horse Billie was riding was not Jupiter. He was undoubtedly agood horse, as the speed at which he went fully testified. But it is onething to have a horse that understands English and another to have onethat understands only Mexican, as Billie soon discovered.
The horse which Billie had mounted at Pancho's suggestion was Mexicanclear through. He had never been across the Rio Grande, nor had he theslightest knowledge of the ground over which he was running. He had comefrom the south only twenty-four hours before, and, despite all thatBillie could do, he insisted in bearing away from the river. Time andagain Billie forced him back into the right direction, as he thought,but after half an hour's hard riding, which should have brought him tothe spot where the boys had landed from the boat, there was no river insight.
"By George!" exclaimed Billie aloud, as he finally drew rein and peeredinto the darkness, "I wonder where that river has gone to. It ought tobe around here somewhere!"
He turned his horse sharply to the left and for several minutes rodeslowly along, looking all about his narrow horizon.
"Don't you know where you are?" he asked of the horse; but notunderstanding English, there was no answering movement of the animal'sears and no sense of that companionship which a horseman should feelfrom his mount.
"If I'd had Jupiter under me I wouldn't be in this fix!" thought Billie,and for a brief moment he was almost overcome with a sense ofloneliness.
But there was no time to waste. The lives of his companions dependedupon his success, and he hastily pulled himself together and spurredforward.
For another five minutes he galloped along, when all at once his horsewent down upon his knees and only the saddle kept Billie from going overhis head.
Quickly gathering himself, he tried his best with the reins to lift theanimal to his feet; but his efforts were in vain and he was obliged todismount.
One look at the ground beneath his feet was sufficient. He had riddeninto the midst of a prairie dog village and his horse had fallen intoone of the holes.
After some minutes, Billie succeeded in getting the animal on his feet;but when he mounted and started to ride, he found that the broncho wasso lame he could scarcely move.
While the accident was unfortunate in one way, it was a good thing inanother. It served as a landmark to tell Billie where he was--for thevery first day the boys had arrived on the Rio Grande they had noticedit and Billie was sure that it was the only dog village for miles.
"I must be about two miles from Don Pablo's," he mused. "That makes mefully six miles from the city and with this lame pony I don't know howlong it will take me to get there! I wish I could get hold of one of oldDon Pablo's mules."
He gave the broncho a slap with the reata, not having the heart to usehis spurs. The animal tried to go a bit faster, but the effort was afailure.
"I can walk faster than this," was the lad's next thought and without amoment's hesitation he threw himself from the horse and started in thedirection of the river on a run.
"If I can only find that river," he muttered as he sped along. "I'llstick close to it until I reach town. It can't be so very far away!"
Billie was a good runner and he had learned in his months of experienceon the plains how to run so as not to tire himself. It was vastlydifferent from running along a beaten path, or even along a regulartrail. The ground was covered with sand hummocks, and every once in awhile he would run into a patch of sand so deep that it was impossibleto do more than walk.
After some minutes Billie struck a belt of chaparral.
"Well!" he gasped, "this is encouraging, anyway. I am getting nearer theriver."
Through the brush he ran and finally, to his great delight, he emergedinto a beaten path.
"Now I'm all right," he thought. "This will lead me right down to theshore."
Encouraged by the thought, he put on more steam and spurted ahead; butwhen, after five minutes' running, he failed to come to the water, hestopped and looked around.
"I must be going in the wrong direction," he exclaimed, and turning,began to retrace his tracks.
For nearly ten minutes he kept on his course and then again stopped,pretty well tired out.
"This is something fierce!" he said aloud. "I'm in as bad a fix as thatchap you read about in mythology, who was lost in a labyrinth. I used tothink that was a pretty fishy story, but here I find myself in the samefix. I wish the stars would come out!"
But the stars failed to appear and Billie stood perplexed.
As he stood thus undecided, his ears caught the sound
of a strangelittle cough and a smile spread itself over his face.
"The prairie dogs are barking at the pinto," he laughed. "Well, anyway,I know where I am as far as they are concerned. I must have gone prettynearly in a circle. That wouldn't be strange for me, but why should thispath go in a circle?"
He took off his sombrero and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"It's mighty funny," he continued, still thinking of the path.
Then an explanation came to him.
"It isn't a circle!" he exclaimed. "It's a loop and I would have gonestraight across it if I had kept on the way I was going when I firststruck it. There must be a bend in the river down here somewhere."
Billie's surmise was quite correct. It was a bend in the river, and in afew minutes more, pushing straight through the chaparral, he came insight of the water.
"Well!" declared the lad as he drew a deep breath, "I'm certainly gladto see you! And now to get to the other side."
He sprang down the bank in three long strides and peered out toward theAmerican shore. It seemed a long way and the water was running at a goodspeed.
"What a fool I was not to stick to the broncho," he muttered. "If hecouldn't walk, he could swim. If I was sure he was still there I'd goback and get him; but that's altogether unlikely. No sir, I've just gotto swim it alone and the sooner the better."
He threw off his jacket and began to unbuckle his cartridge belt.
"If I could only find a log of some kind, it wouldn't be so bad; but Idon't see any."
He took a few steps along the shore, peering into the darkness, as herolled his belt about his six-shooter and deposited them in his hat.
Then he turned again to the water, and, throwing off his boots--whichtogether with his jacket he tossed up on the bank, as if perchance hemight come back for them on the morrow--he waded in.
He had reached deep water, and was just about to strike out for theopposite shore, when his ear caught the sound of oar-locks. He paused inthe act of launching himself into the current, and listened attentively.There was no mistaking the sound, and he waited anxiously to see whatwould appear.
He had not long to wait, for a couple of minutes later a batteau, verymuch like the one the rangers had captured the night before, came intosight, rowing slowly upstream. It contained three persons, two at theoars and the third standing in the bow of the boat, looking forward.
Billie sank himself into the water until nothing could be seen below hiseyes. There was only one chance in fifty that he would escape detection,but he was in luck, and, as soon as the boat passed him, he struck outfor it with all his speed.
Good swimmer though he was, he would never have been able to catch theboat had the men been rowing with any speed; but they were evidentlylooking for something, and were going so slowly that it was no trick atall to swim up behind and seize the stern with both hands.
For several minutes after he had secured a hold he made no move, beingcontent to let the boat tow him along; but, after a few minutes, hebegan silently to use his feet and legs and to turn the boat's headtoward the American shore.
At first the oarsmen did not notice what was happening. Then the one onthe American side of the boat exclaimed:
"_Caramba, hombre!_ Don't pull so hard! Can't you see you are pulling usout of our course?"
"Yes," echoed the man in the bow, "don't get too near the American shoretonight. We may be watched."
"I'm not pulling hard," replied the other oarsman. "It's Emilio who isweak. If he would pull harder, there'd be no trouble!"
Hearing the controversy, Billie sank lower into the water, and let theboat hold its course. Then, after a couple of minutes, he again divertedthe little craft, being more careful, however, to do it gradually.
Several times he performed the feat, until the boat was past the middleof the stream.
"I guess I'm near enough now," he thought to himself, "so I won't haveany trouble," and was about to release his hold and let the boat go onher way, when the man at the bow called out sharply:
"Where are you going? Do you want the gringo patrol to get you?"
The words were spoken in a much louder tone, evidently, than had beenintended, and must have been heard from the American shore, forimmediately thereafter there came a challenge in English:
"Boat ahoy! Who goes there?"
There was no answer from the boat, only an answering tug from theoarsman, who pulled lustily to turn his boat from shore, while Billie,using himself as a rudder, strove his best to keep the boat in anopposite direction. The result was that the boat kept straight ahead.
"Who goes there?" again came the challenge. "Answer, or I'll fire!" Athreat which was carried out a moment later when no reply wasforthcoming.
The patrol must have caught a glimpse of the boat, for the bulletwhistled through the air close to it.
"_Caramba!_" shouted the man in the bow. "Why don't you pull?"
"We are pulling!" exclaimed the oarsmen, "but the evil one must have theboat in his grasp, Don Pablo! We can't turn it!"
"Don Pablo!" exclaimed Billie to himself, "so that's who it is!" And hestruggled harder than ever to turn the boat toward the shore, while thepatrol, evidently reinforced by two or three comrades, poured a sharpfusillade in the direction of the sound of the voices.
"The evil one, verdad!" exclaimed Don Pablo. "The evil one must havehold of you, Emilio. Pull!"
But, instead of pulling, Emilio dropped his oar and pitched forward intothe boat, pierced by a rifle ball from the shore patrol, which nowseemed to have the range of the boat.