The Motor Scout: A Story of Adventure in South America

  CHAPTER XXIV

  FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA

  Colonel Zegarra was holding a levee of his admirers from the town whenTim returned to camp.

  "Well, my young friend, have you made any interesting discoveries?" heasked, from among a group of ladies as Tim passed.

  "Several, senor," replied Tim. "Among other things, what it feels liketo fly through the air on wheels."

  "Very interesting," said the gentleman in amiable ignorance. "I was notaware that your machine could fly. How marvellous is the progress ofinvention!" he added, turning to the ladies.

  "Wonderful!" they cried, clapping their hands.

  "Will you show us how you do it, Senor Tim?" said the colonel'sdaughter.

  "I regret, senorita, that it is impossible here," said Tim, laying hishand on his heart in the local way. "It requires a hill a mile long; anumber of the Prefect's men pelting down after you, and bellowing likebulls; a ravine thirty feet wide spanned by a bridge; and some goodobedient fellows who will blow up the bridge at the critical moment.These conditions do not exist every day, senorita."

  The girl looked puzzled. Then a light dawned.

  "Is it a joke, Senor Tim?" she asked with a smile. She knew somethingof Tim's jokes in carnival time.

  "A joke that won't bear repetition, senorita," he replied, and thenbowed himself away.

  The eastern track being now impassable, he thought it sufficient toleave a few men at the broken bridge to guard against any attempt torepair it. The rest he withdrew to the camp. One of the vedettes onthe western track having been surprised and killed, he decided as aprecaution for the future to place the men in couples. He did notenlighten Colonel Zegarra, when the visitors had gone, as to his flightthrough the air, but simply informed him that the bridge had been blownup to check a troop of the Prefect's horsemen.

  Before he retired for the night he thoroughly examined the cycle, andfound that the tyres, though showing signs of wear, were as yet sound.He gave it to one of the Japanese to clean, and then sought his couch,worn out by the racking experiences of the day.

  Next morning word was brought that the enemy were advancing in forcealong the western track. Colonel Zegarra was not lacking in courage,and the plan of action to be followed in the event of attack had beensettled in several conversations between himself and Tim. The ground onboth sides of the track for half a mile from the cross-roads was fairlyopen, affording a clear field for fire. Though the enemy outnumberedthe Mollendists, the latter had the advantage of being the defenders.Their position, protected by earthworks and the fringe of wood, was sostrong that an attempt to force it ought not to succeed. To harass theenemy in flank, Tim had arranged to post himself with a small detachmentin a dense copse on the left of the track about a mile in front of thecamp. With luck he might not be discovered; if he was attacked, thecloseness of the trees would enable him to make a good defence. Hechose thirty of his own Japanese for this duty, knowing their goodfighting qualities and their absolute personal loyalty to him.

  They had been stationed in the copse for some hours before the head ofthe enemy's column appeared. The men were on foot. Tim had intended toworry them as they advanced, but it now occurred to him that he would dobetter to hold his hand until the attack developed. If Colonel Zegarrashould be in difficulties, a sudden assault on the enemy from the rearmight turn the scale.

  The enemy opened out as they approached the cross-roads, intending tosurround the camp. They made a concerted rush, but in the lack ofartillery they were seriously handicapped, and after several attemptshad failed, they fell back to cover. Some retreated in the direction ofthe copse. Tim saw his opportunity. Bidding his men wait until theywere within a few hundred yards, he then gave the order to fire. In theshock of surprise the enemy fell into disorder, and fled in alldirections. Their confusion was communicated to the whole force, andsoon the discomfited rabble were in full retreat, suffering severely asthey crossed the line of fire from the camp.

  Colonel Zegarra rose to the occasion. Ordering his men to mount, he ledthem in pursuit. The retreat became a rout. Ridden down by thehorsemen, cut up by the steady firing of Tim's men in the copse, theenemy were a disorganised mob before they reached their horses, whichthey had left about two miles down the track. Some succeeded inmounting, and galloped away. Others were headed off, and were madeprisoners. Within an hour of the first attack the Prefect's easternforce was shattered, and no longer existed as a fighting unit.

  There was great jubilation among the Mollendists. On returning to campColonel Zegarra at once penned a flowery despatch to Mr. O'Haganannouncing his victory. The courier had not been gone long when Romanarode up in haste, bearing a verbal message from the commander-in-chief.After long delay the Prefect was making a determined effort to force thedefile, and Mr. O'Hagan asked for a reinforcement of fifty men, if theycould be spared. It was arranged that Tim should start at once withfifty horsemen. It seemed unlikely that the troops just defeated wouldrally, but for assurance' sake he persuaded Romana to remain at thecross-roads, to advise Colonel Zegarra if the enemy should attempt anymovement which must be met rather by craft than by courage.

  Tim rode ahead of his troop on the motorcycle. When about a third ofthe way to the defile, he suddenly discovered on his left a considerablenumber of men on foot descending from the hills towards the highroad.Their intention clearly was either to take the main Mollendist army inthe rear, or to make a swoop on the cross-roads and then to San Rosario.Tim guessed that his father was unaware of this complication. The menmust have been for at least two days on the march, for the hills weregenerally regarded as impracticable.

  Tim halted for a few moments to make a rapid calculation. His fatherand Colonel Zegarra must be warned. If he rode on, the enemy, though atpresent a long distance away, would be on the road between him andColonel Zegarra by the time he returned. On the other hand he might rideto the colonel and back before they reached the road, in which case hewould still have a chance of slipping by.

  He remounted and dashed back at full speed, ordering his horsemen whenhe met them to halt and be on the alert. Colonel Zegarra agreed to moveout with all his troops, and if he found the enemy on the road, marchingtowards the defile, to hang on their rear. Then Tim set off again. Hecommanded his horsemen to await Colonel Zegarra; it seemed moreimportant for the moment that the colonel should have his full numberthan that the party should press on to reinforce Mr. O'Hagan.

  The head of the flanking column was only half a mile from the road whenTim dashed by. To some extent screened by trees and bushes, he becamethe target for the enemy's fire as he passed patches of open country.But he escaped unhurt, thanks to his speed and to the windings of theroad, which caused his direction to alter frequently, and baffled theriflemen's aim. In a few minutes he was out of range, in a few more outof sight.

  On approaching the defile, Tim heard sounds of heavy firing. ThePrefect's attack was evidently being hotly pressed. He found theMollendist force some distance farther east than he had expected. Theyoccupied the rocks on either side of the road, and were firing along thedefile. Just as Tim arrived he heard the distant roar of a gun, and ashell crashed high up among the rocks at his right hand. He slipped offhis bicycle, and hurried to find his father.

  Mr. O'Hagan greeted the boy with especial warmth.

  "Pardo gave me a terrible scare when he told me he had got you," hesaid. "What happened?"

  Tim related how he had been dealt with at the house.

  "He had the cheek to come to you, then," he said. "Why didn't he go tothe Prefect?"

  "I suspect he did. He wanted to make sure of his price."

  "The wretch said my price had gone up. What did he ask?"

  "The hacienda!"

  Tim whistled.

  "You kicked him out, I hope?" he said indignantly.

  "Well, Tim, you see Colonel Zegarra's despatch with your postscript camejust in time, or---- B
ut that's all over. How are things going?"

  "We have fairly smashed the lot from the Inca camp. They attacked thismorning. Romana brought your message, and I was hurrying up with fiftymen when I saw a detachment of the enemy, about two hundred strong, Ithink, marching over the hills towards the road, so I rode back andasked Zegarra to bring up all his men and then came on ahead to tellyou."

  "That's very bad news," said Mr. O'Hagan, somewhat perturbed. "I've asmuch as I can do to hold my own here. As you see, they've brought acouple of guns to bear on us."

  "Where are they?"

  "Up in the hills yonder. How they were dragged there I can't imagine.They're at least a thousand feet up. The Prefect has more energy andresource than I expected. When the guns opened fire this morning we hadto abandon the head of the defile. We're pretty safe here for themoment, and can check any attempt to force the passage; but I dare saythe Prefect will find another position for the guns where they cancommand us, and then we shall have to fall back again. With two hundredmen threatening our rear----"

  "Couldn't you spare some men to deal with them?"

  "That's a capital idea, Tim. It will take a long time to move the gunsto a new position. We'll try it. I'll take a hundred and fifty menmyself. You had better stay here; you've done your share."

  "I'd rather come with you," said Tim.

  "I dare say, but you had better go and report to the President what youhave been doing. He's rather down in the mouth, and your victory at thecross-roads will cheer him."

  Mr. O'Hagan soon set off with his men, all mounted. When he returned afew hours later, he was flushed with success. The Prefect's hill columnfound itself in the position in which it had hoped to catch theMollendists--bottled up between two forces, which equalled or exceededit in number, and were much fresher. Instead of attacking, the enemywere attacked. Fatigued after their long and difficult march, they werein no condition to make a prolonged resistance, and fell back before Mr.O'Hagan's impetuous onset. They were seeking a strong position whenColonel Zegarra dashed suddenly upon their rear. Hopelessly entrapped,they lost heart. Some flung down their arms and surrendered, othersdispersed and sought safety in the hills.

  With Mr. O'Hagan returned Colonel Zegarra and the greater part of hisforce, a small detachment being sent back to keep an eye on the road toSan Rosario. President Mollendo, whose volatile spirits had alreadybeen exalted by Tim's report of the morning's success, was carried awayby delight at the Prefect's second discomfiture on the same day. Heinsisted on promoting Tim captain on the spot, and made an oration tothe troops which moved many of them to tears, and confirmed their beliefthat they had in Carlos Mollendo a statesman of the highest rank.

  While this orgy of sentiment was in progress, Mr. O'Hagan was discussingmatters with Tim quietly in the background.

  "That's all very well," he said, jerking his head towards the spot whereMollendo was perorating, "but it doesn't prevent the Prefect fromhauling his guns. I quite expect that to-morrow he will begin to shiftthem in this direction, and when they begin to play we can't hold thedefile another half-hour."

  "What then, Father?" asked Tim.

  "Why, then we shall be compelled to fall back on San Rosario. ThePrefect has three men to our one; and the moment the tide seems to beturning in his favour a lot of ours are sure to desert. It's the way ofthings here. But for the guns we could hold him off for months, so longas Galdos keeps up the supplies--though I'm afraid of ammunition runningshort. The two checks the Prefect has had to-day are decided set-backs,but we are not much better off unless we can take the heart out of him.If we could only capture his guns, now!"

  "Why not?"

  "Well, if you can suggest a way, do so. But don't reckon without yourhost. They're at least a thousand feet up, somewhere on that ridge.The War Office of this republic being unable to supply field-glasses, Ihaven't located them exactly. To climb the hill in face of the enemywould be a pretty tough job in itself, and the guns are pretty sure tobe well guarded."

  "I'll try it to-night," said Tim, "with a few of our Japs. Some of themwere in the war with Russia, and it won't be the first time they've hadsuch night-work."

  "I don't want to disappoint you," said Mr. O'Hagan, pulling at hismoustache, "but it's too risky--indeed it is. What would your poormother say?"

  Tim was so well accustomed to this appeal _ad matrem_ that it had quitelost its effect.

  "She'd jib to begin with, to be sure," he said, "but she'd give in inthe end; she always does when it's not an absolute question of right orwrong. You'd better say yes, Father."

  It was on the tip of his tongue to relate the adventures of the previousday, but he reflected that the story might have quite the oppositeeffect from what he intended. Mr. O'Hagan's last instructions to him hadbeen not to go adventuring, and though he felt that he could hardly beblamed for adventures which had hurled themselves at him unsought, itwas probable that his father would not recognise any reasoning of thatkind. So he confined his arguments strictly to the matter in hand. Mr.O'Hagan's opposition was really half-hearted. He had come to have greatfaith in Tim's resourcefulness and luck. Ultimately he agreed to let theboy do what he had suggested; the success of his scheme might prove tobe the turning-point of the struggle.

  Helped by a half-moon, Tim set off about midnight with a dozen of theJapanese who had served in the army, including three gunners. Asweapons they carried only revolvers and knives, with a good supply ofcartridges. One of them had a dark lantern for signalling the result ofthe expedition to Mr. O'Hagan. Slipping down the road for some distancein the direction of San Rosario, they turned to the right, and ropedthemselves together for the climb into the hills.

  It was the hardest job that Tim had ever undertaken. He had no compass,and could only direct his course by the position of the moon. Its lightwas not sufficient to enable him to choose the easiest way. There wasno path. At the head of the line he clambered up wherever he could findfoothold, sometimes, indeed, crawling on all-fours up slippery slopes,scrambling over or between boulders, now and then brought up by a sheerwall of rock impossible to scale. The party had often to rest andrecover breath, and the ascent was so arduous and slow that he was alittle uneasy lest the dawn should surprise them before they gained thesummit. To make matters worse the moon was dropping, and its incessantchange of position rendered it a far from trustworthy guide.

  At last, after three hours of fatiguing work, they reached the crest ofthe ridge, where they caught sight of the lights in the Prefect's campbelow them far away to the west. Tim guessed that the guns were placedsomewhere along the ridge. He stole along quietly, stopping now andagain to listen for signs of the men in charge. Presently he came to aformidable buttress of rock projecting over the valley and rising manyfeet above the general level. It appeared to be the highest point inthis part of the country, and if the top was flat, was the most likelyplace to have been chosen for the gun platform. Whispering to his mento move as quietly as possible, he led them along a narrow ledge on theface of the cliff below the buttress, edging into the wall on his lefthand so as to avoid a fatal fall into the depths.

  At the farther end of the ledge he halted. It was now almost dark; themoon had descended below the hills on the opposite side of the road.But by aid of the last lingering sheen he detected signs of recentpick-work on the ground, just beyond the spot where he stood. Evidentlya squad of labourers had been employed to clear a passage for the guns.There was no sound. Casting off the rope, Tim stole forward alone, andsoon discovered a rough path leading in the reverse direction towardsthe rear of the buttress.

  His heart pumping with excitement, he returned to the men, and whisperedhis final instructions. There was to be no firing unless they had todefend themselves against overpowering numbers. Then he led them onnoiselessly up the path. It ended sooner than he expected. He camesuddenly to a level space of some extent, on which he saw two guns,pointing over the valley. Stretched on the ground behind them were tenmen.
They were asleep. Secure in their supposed inaccessibility, theyhad posted no guard.

  Tim paused a moment, then ordered his men to steal round until theycompletely encompassed the sleeping crew. At a low whistle from himthey sprang forward; there was a brief and almost silent struggle; andthe enemy, only half awake, found themselves prisoners. Not a shot wasfired; scarcely a wound was given.

  Hurrying to the edge of the buttress with the lamp, Tim flashed it threetimes into the darkness. He knew that his father at the end of thedefile, more than a mile away, would be anxiously watching. Then hereturned to the guns. By the light of the lamp, carefully screened fromthe enemy's camp, the Japanese loaded the guns and swung them rounduntil they pointed to the west. When he started, Tim had expected that,if he succeeded at all, he would only be able to spike the guns and thenrun for it. But having captured the small party of gunners, he saw noreason why he should not turn his success to account. It was now nearlyfour o'clock. Dawn would break very soon. And he thrilled with delightin the anticipated surprise in store for the Prefect.

  The men waited impatiently. On this hill-top they would have earlierlight than the troops below. By the time that the first rosy gleamstole out of the east the gunners were at their posts. This was workafter their own hearts. The guns were not the perfect machines to whichthey were accustomed, and they laid them with especial care. Theshadows upon the camp at the head of the defile dissolved. As soon asthere was light enough, the two gunners fired almost at the sameinstant, shattering the still morning. A thousand echoes reverberatedacross the valley, and rolled diminuendo from crag to crag. Before theydied away Tim caught the faint sound of cheers from his father's camp.

  The two shells had plunged into the centre of the enemy's position,causing a wild rush for shelter. The Prefect's first feeling wasconsternation. There was no artillery in San Rosario; whence had theenemy obtained the guns? Why had not his own gunners replied? As helooked up towards the platform on which they were posted he saw twoswift flashes, and two more shells whistled overhead and crashed on therocks just above him. His question was answered; the Mollendists, thedespised brigands, had captured his guns and turned them upon him. Inthat bitter moment he wished, perhaps, that he had lent a less ready earto the suggestions of Miguel Pardo. All the enterprise and daring whichhis enemy had recently shown was inspired, not by Carlos Mollendo, butby the foreigners, and they, but for Pardo, might have been with him, orat least not against him.

  It was soon apparent that matters were serious. Shells were droppinginto the defile as fast as the gunners could load. Already they haddone much damage, and panic was spreading through the ranks. The menwere seeking cover; some were already running to the rear, where thehorses were tethered; none had any spirit for fight. While this disorderreigned, there was a sudden cry that the brigands were charging up thedefile. The Prefect's troops vastly outnumbered Mr. O'Hagan's, but hehad no advantage of them now. They had no faith in their cause, noenthusiasm for their leader. Disheartened by previous failure,demoralised by the bombardment of their own guns, they were deaf to thePrefect's passionate entreaties to stand firm. They answered him withoaths and curses. Nor was the Prefect of the stuff of heroes. He wasnot the man to gather about him a few choice spirits and steadfastlydefend the pass. Surrounded, almost swept away by the yelling mob ofhis terror-stricken army, he elbowed his way through them, to gain thetree to which his horse was tied. He had better have allowed himself tobe borne away on foot among his men. Mounted, he presented aconspicuous object to the head of the eager little force charging up theroad. A dozen rifles were levelled at him; a dozen bullets sang throughthe air; and when the Prefect's body was lifted after the defile wascleared, it was found riddled.

  The attack having been made on foot, no effective pursuit could bemaintained. So precipitate, indeed, was the flight of the cowed troops,that only the laggards of the rear were in much danger, Mr. O'Hagan'svictory was almost bloodless. The fugitives poured into San Juan; thewildest reports found easy credence there. It became known by and bythat the Prefect was killed, a piece of news at which more than hisenemies rejoiced. The magnates of the town were hurriedly calledtogether; they agreed to accept the new republic; and when, in thecourse of the afternoon, Senor Mollendo and Mr. O'Hagan rode in at thehead of their troops, they were received with acclamations by thepopulace, and with a flowery address by the officials. The wheel offortune had lifted the outlaw to the headship of the State.