CHAPTER NINETEEN.
WHO TO BE THE FORLORN HOPE?
Day succeeds day with no brightening of hopes to those beleaguered onthe Lost Mountain. Instead, in each something arises to make theirprospects darker, if that were possible.
About ten days after the commencement of the siege the besiegers havetheir force increased, a fresh party coming down from the north,evidently in obedience to a summons, which they who drove off thecaptured _caballada_ have carried back. But for what purpose thisaccession of strength, when it is not needed? They on the ground arealready enough, and to spare.
The miners cannot guess what they have come about, unless it be theremaining braves of the tribe, to take part in some ceremony over theirfallen chief, or be present when the time arrives for the wreaking ofvengeance.
It has nothing to do with that, however, solely a conception of theirnew leader, El Zopilote, who has his reasons for carrying out the raiddown the Horcasitas. So on the second day after, the besieging party,instead of being one hundred men the more, is all that the less; atleast two hundred seen to issue forth from the camp, and proceedsouthward in full war-paint and panoply, with all their frightfulinsignia. As successive files they move off along the stream's edge, itmight seem as some gigantic serpent commencing its crawl towards prey.And many on the mountain, with a suspicion of where they are going, havea pitying heart for those who live on the banks of the lower Horcasitas.
Enough, however, to think of themselves, and each hour more than enough;for as the days pass circumstances present a still sterner front. Thesupply of provisions, at first seeming inexhaustible, proves to have alimit. There are over seventy mouths to feed, which calls for a largedaily quantity. So one by one the wild quadrupeds give out, the birdslong before these, frightened by the constant chase and fusillade,forsaking the place altogether. The store of _tasajo_ and otherpreserved meats begins to be drawn upon. When these come to an end, sotoo must all the suspense, all the agonies of that quaint, quasiimprisonment, to terminate in real captivity, or indeed death itself.
In the tent of Don Estevan some seven or eight of the mining people areassembled; the two _duenos_ are of course present, with the_mayor-domo_, the chief engineer, and other heads of departments. Noneed to say the _gambusino_ is among them. They are there to takecounsel on the events of the day, and the means of the morrow. Everynight it has been their custom to do so, and on this one--for it is atnight--there is nothing very different to speak of from any other.
Still, Don Estevan has conceived a thought which had not hithertooccurred to him, and now lays it before the assembled conclave.
"_Caballeros_! I can think of only one way--poor, doubtful chance itis--by which we may get rescued. Some one must contrive to pass theirsentries."
"Impossible!" is the thought of all hearing him, one or two expressingit in speech. For of all the things observed as vigorously kept up,never relaxed for an hour--even a moment--has been that sentinel linethrown across the plain from flank to flank of the ravine. All day longit has appeared there, and all through the night evidently redoubled.
"Pity if it be," rejoins Don Estevan, yielding to what appears thegeneral sentiment. "And to think that one word at Arispe would make allwell. My own brother-in-law, Colonel Requenes, in command there with aregiment of lancers--they of Zacatecas. In less than half an hour theycould be in the saddle, and hastening to our relief. _Ay Dios_! if wecan't communicate with them we are lost--surely lost!"
At this, Robert Tresillian says, interrogatively:
"I wonder how many of our people could find the way back to Arispe?"
Without altogether comprehending what he means, several numbers arementioned in a guessing way, according to the estimate of each. PedroVicente thinks at least thirty could,--certainly all the _arrieros_ and_vaqueros_.
"What is your idea, Don Roberto?" at length asks the senior partner.
"That all of those who know the way back be mustered, and two taken fromthem by lot, who will run the risk of passing the Indian sentries. Ifthey succeed, then all may be saved; if on the contrary, it will be butto lose their lives a little sooner. I propose that all submit to thelottery--all who are unmarried."
"I agree with the Senor Tresillian," here puts in the _gambusino_."Some of us must contrive to get past them at whatever risk. For mypart, I'm willing to be one, with any other."
The generous proposal is received with applause, but not accepted,--itwould not be fair; and in fine it is agreed upon, that fate shalldetermine who shall be the pair to run the proposed risk--the ceremonyfor deciding it to take place on the morrow.
In the morning it comes off soon as breakfast is eaten. All known to beeligible are summoned together on a spot of ground apart, and told thepurport of their being so assembled. No one objects, or tries to evadethe dangerous conscription; instead, there are even some who, likeVicente, would volunteer for the duty.
For is not one of the _duenos_--the brave Englishman and his son, therepresent--both offering themselves as candidates like any of the commonmen?
No volunteering, then, is allowed; fortune alone permitted to decide onwhom shall be the forlorn hope.
The quaint lottery, though awe-inspiring, occupies but a brief space oftime. Against the number of men who are to take part in it, a likenumber of _pinon-nuts_ have been counted out, and dropped into adeep-crowned _sombrero_. Two of the nuts have been already stained withgunpowder, the others left in their natural colour; but no one by thefeel could tell which was which. The black ones are to be the _prizes_.
The men stand in a ring round Don Estevan, with another who is among theexempt in the centre. These hold the hat, into which one after another,stepping from the circle, led forward blindfolded, inserts his hand, anddraws out a nut. If white, he goes clear; but long before the whiteones are exhausted the two blacks are taken up, which brings theceremony to an abrupt end, that deciding all.
They who have drawn the _prizes_ are a muleteer and a cattle drover,both brave fellows. They had need be, for this very night they willhave to run the gauntlet of life and death, perhaps ere the morrow's sunto be no more.