Where Strongest Tide Winds Blew Part 4

They begged for money and I gave them a dollar each, and after profusely thanking me they left to follow the rear guard of Pierola's scoundrels.

After purchasing my cigars, I followed the main body of troops with my escort of twenty soldiers, to keep guard over me, as arranged with General Pierola. Our destination was Torato, thirty miles from Moquequa. The road led over pa.s.ses and wound around mountain sides, and from several points of vantage I could see the army on the march, with General Pierola and a priest by his side in the lead. The priest was there to inspire courage in those who might waver. The army numbered six hundred infantry and two hundred cavalry, many of whom did not know the duties of a soldier.

On arriving at Torato, I secured quarters for myself and escort at the expense of the insurgent general. A month pa.s.sed in wine drinking and dancing. There were gay festivities every night, lasting sometimes until late the next morning, the officers seldom seeing their men.

Instead of drilling them, they spent their time telling how they were going to annihilate the government troops. Some little fortifying had been done, but the natural surroundings were sufficient to prevent a prudent attack. One day the news came that the government troops were advancing and then some little work was done to prepare for battle.

The day before the battle, I told General Pierola I had no objections to following him to the battlefield, but in consideration of being a non-combatant, I asked the privilege of selecting my own course, giving him my word of honor that I would not make any attempt to escape. He was satisfied and gave me a pa.s.s allowing the freedom I desired. The next day the cry arose that the government troops were only six miles away. There was hurrying to and fro with no discipline.

The priest accomplished more by his cross than all the officers. There was a babel of voices. All were trying to give commands. Suddenly heavy firing was heard, the outpost had become engaged at last.

IX.

AMID THE DIN OF BATTLE.

The main body of the insurgent troops began to move to the front, headed by General Pierola and the priest marching to the most unearthly music I ever heard. Women were conspicuous and cheered as the men marched past. "Viva Pierola!" was heard on all sides.

Then came an order to double quick. The outposts were driven in a short distance, and the enemy was in a valley, surrounded on both sides by a chain of hills with a huge mountain in the background. When I saw the position of the government troops, I was satisfied they would be defeated and the battle become a rout. There were two regiments of infantry and one of cavalry in the valley. Pierola stationed his troops on each side of the pa.s.s and in front, reserving his cavalry. In a short time the engagement became general. The priest encouraged the insurgents by displaying the cross. He was a courageous fellow, always to be found in places of danger. I mounted a huge boulder and could easily see all that was going on. The government troops would waver and fall back, and again they would renew the attempt to scale the hillsides, which was impossible as long as the insurgents held their position.

There was a strange happening just when success seemed a.s.sured. The insurgent cavalry had taken no part up to this time, as both sides of the valley had been actively engaged. The insurgents along the pa.s.s were running short of ammunition. An order was sent to the captain of the cavalry to send a company back to Torato and a.s.sist in hurrying up supplies. There was a brief cessation of hostilities. I could plainly see the government troops carrying their dead and wounded to the rear, but still holding their position. When another charge was made to take the heights, the firing again became general. Suddenly arose the cry, "They come! They come!" Firing along the sides of the pa.s.s ceased, and I looked in amazement. Evidently, something was wrong. The insurgents were throwing away their arms and running. There was a cloud of dust in the direction of Torato, and I could easily distinguish a company of cavalry, which I knew was the company sent to hurry up the ammunition. The insurgents saw them and imagined that the government cavalry had succeeded in getting to their rear. The panic became a rout. In vain did Pierola plead, as he threw himself in front of his demoralized men, in vain did the priest hold his crucifix on high, threatening and pleading, but no persuasion could stop those runaway cowards. The government troops realized something was wrong, and began to scale the heights. Still, if the cavalry which had done no fighting, could have been led to the side of the pa.s.s, the day would still have been with Pierola, and probably the stampede would have been checked. But unfortunately for the would-be president, there was no one in command capable of meeting the emergency.

I became excited, and s.n.a.t.c.hing a cutla.s.s from the hand of a retreating soldier, threw myself in front of a column in a vain endeavor to stop them, but they ran over me like so many sheep. Terror had lent them wings of flight and deprived them of reason. By this time the government infantry had reached the plateau and was forming into companies. Their cavalry had seized the heights and the day was lost.

I saw General Pierola shake hands with the priest and leave the field.

The priest mounted and he, too, was gone. The ground was strewn with arms; even the discordant musical instruments were discarded.

Thus an army of revolutionists, who, a few hours before paraded through the streets of Torato, cheered by fair women, and shouting "Viva Pierola," had won a battle by natural surroundings and lost it by their cowardice. I, too, thought it was time to retreat, as my escort of twenty soldiers had long since disappeared. I rode to Torato.

Along the way I overtook straggling bands of insurgents going into town to hide, while others were scaling the tallest mountains. I went to my quarters, and soon the town was surrounded.

The next morning about two hundred insurgents were captured. The others were hid in some mysterious way and the commanding officer of the government troops was made to believe that the main body of the insurgents was in the mountains.

I sought the general of the government troops to inform him of my presence. He replied that he knew of my being a prisoner, and asked me to return to Moquequa at once and help to get the railway in operation to convey his troops and prisoners.

I was glad no other questions were put to me, and after pleading with the general for my kind host who had treated me with great kindness in Torato, and who was not in sympathy with the revolutionists, he agreed to exempt him from the payment of money levied on nearly all the inhabitants.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE EARTH BEGAN TO ROCK AND REEL. (Page 33)]

Soon after this a troop s.h.i.+p arrived in Ilo to convey prisoners and escort to Lima. I felt sorry for the prisoners. Many of them recognized me and kept calling, "Don Juan, please try and help us,"

but of course I was powerless to do anything for them. I was glad when they were aboard the transport for I felt miserable in the midst of so much suffering. But I knew they would not suffer long. Another revolution would set them free.

The railroad was again in running order and everything progressing smoothly when one morning at breakfast I was informed that Pierola had broken out again. This time his party had, by means unknown, captured the Peruvian ironclad ram, Huascar. He must have been aided by the officers, or at least one of them who declared in his favor. Howbeit, he had possession. The Peruvian fleet was sent in pursuit, but as the Huascar was the most powerful vessel of the fleet, they had to give her up.

The fortunes of Pierola were brighter now than ever. He could, with the exception of Callao, have entire command and control of all the sea ports along the coast. But unfortunately for him, he began to stop the British mail, and later the French mail on the high seas, his object being to intercept mail for the Peruvian government.

The British government dispatched H. M. S. Amythist and the Shah to compel him to surrender, the Huascar having had full sway along the coast for a month.

The Huascar finally made her appearance in the port of Ilo, and almost immediately the Amythist and Shah hove in sight. I had a good view from the beach and saw a boat lowered from the Shah and pull directly to the Huascar, I supposed for the purpose of demanding her surrender.

However, if that was the object, it failed, for upon the return of the boat to the Shah, the Amythist cleared for action.

The afternoon was calm; not a ripple on the ocean. The Huascar was nearest the sh.o.r.e, less than a mile from where I stood. The Shah was over a mile distant seaward. A signal flashed from the Shah and the Amythist steamed toward the Huascar. The Amythist was a wooden corvette, equipped with twin screws. The Shah was a commerce destroyer. Neither vessel was a match for the modern ironclad Huascar.

Suddenly a shot came from the Shah. The flag and pole at the stern of the Huascar dropped overboard. The Huascar, equipped with a revolving turret, sent a shot at the Amythist, but it went wide of its mark. The Amythist circled and sent a broadside full on the Huascar, every shot taking effect. With the aid of a gla.s.s I could see the decks of the Amythist plainly from my position on a huge rock. The British sailors, stripped to the waist, cutla.s.s in hand, stood eagerly awaiting orders.

The gunners' crews were engaged in firing rapidly. The Huascar replied by slow but heavy reports from her turret. The object of the British was to disable the Huascar's turret, and they succeeded by directing all shots against it.

The Huascar, finding she could not effect the enemy by shots, turned to ram her. The Amythist, being equipped with twin screws, awaited the Huascar and when within a short distance ran alongside and poured her whole broadside on the rebel. That was the last act before the Huascar surrendered.

I was aboard the Huascar a few months afterward at Mollendo and she presented a most dilapidated appearance.

Thus again was General Pierola frustrated, and by a British wooden vessel against a crack ironclad of Peru. Pierola escaped as usual, and the Huascar was turned over to the Peruvian government.

A few days after the Amythist-Huascar battle I discovered the people of Ilo were cold and distant towards me, and I soon learned the cause.

Although they were in favor of the existing government, they did not relish the idea of their people being beaten by the British. I could not condemn the acts of my own country and I felt it would be better to leave Ilo, which I did, little dreaming of the exciting events which were soon to follow.

X.

WE MEET AGAIN, FELICITA.

The theater of Arequipa was ablaze with lights. The youth and beauty had a.s.sembled to follow the fortunes of the Count de Monte Christo. I was seated in the dress circle listening to the weird warlike strains of Spanish music, when my eyes fell upon the occupants of a box. A beautiful girl, half hidden by the rich draperies, was talking with an aristocratic looking old gentleman, while by their side sat a young man, dark-browed and sinister looking. I arose and entered the box from the side door. "Don Julian Maldonado, I am delighted to meet you," I said, "I am the boy you befriended some years ago in the Cordilleras."

He took my hand delightedly and bade me be seated, offering me a chair between himself and daughter. Don Julian whispered to me not to make myself known to Felicita to see if she would recognize me. All this was amusing to Don Julian, but somewhat embarra.s.sing to me, seated, as I was, between them, and trying to carry on a conversation with him.

The expression of wonderment in Felicita's beautiful eyes was disconcerting to say the least. It was evident she did not remember me. And yet how could she be expected to. She was a child of only nine years when we first met, and who now, seven years later found me unexpected and unannounced sitting beside her in a theater.

Laughingly I turned to her and asked if she did not recognize me, explaining that the reason her father had not presented me was that we had met seven years ago.

While I was speaking she was looking earnestly at me, but when I recalled their journey to La Paz she appeared dubious and asked if I was the young lad she met near Puno and if it was possible that I had grown to manhood and learned to speak Spanish? When I rea.s.sured her, the look of astonishment gave way to an exclamation of joy.

The play was forgotten. We only talked of our first meeting. She asked if I was staying in Arequipa and on learning that I was, promised that we should meet again, as her father had decided to remain there for some time. I was delighted but felt somewhat disturbed because of the young man in the box with her. When I began to talk to Felicita he moved his seat farther away. The Peruvians are the acme of politeness.

The play being over, I a.s.sisted Felicita with her wraps. Her father then introduced me to Don Rodrigo Garcia, a fellow traveller whom they had met on their journey from Cusco to Arequipa.

I was not particularly well pleased with the young man. First impressions sometimes give rise to doubt and distrust. It was so with me in this instance. Don Julian insisted on my going home with them. I walked with Felicita on one side and Don Julian on the other, Don Rodrigo walking just ahead of me. Their home was on Calle Mercaderes, one of the prettiest squares of the city. Like most Peruvian homes, the house was of adobe with flat roof and part.i.tions of plastered cane. It contained six rooms. In the windows were heavy iron bars, like all houses of the better cla.s.s. They were very serviceable, for Spanish lovers do their courting between the window bars. The girl sits beside the window and her wooer stands in the street; the parents sometimes invite him in. Should he request the company of the girl to the play or to any entertainment, the invitation must include the whole family. This custom in the larger cities is dying out, but in the inland cities it is still adhered to.

Arriving at the door, I bade Felicita and her father good night with the a.s.surance that I would dine with them the next day. Don Rodrigo also was invited. His hotel was on my way and I accompanied him. He was splendid company, and after reaching his hotel I accepted his invitation to a light lunch. Afterwards we enjoyed a cigar and some rich old wine, but still I could not overcome the aversion I first formed for him.

The following day, long before the appointed time for dinner, I was dressed and ready. Chico, a half-breed Indian, whom I had rendered a service one time when he was being set upon by some of his own people, and who afterwards slept in my pa.s.sage way, had my boots polished and horse carefully groomed. He was a faithful servant. He would find out where I went and quietly follow, and after the manner of his race, would lie down in some obscure place in perfect contentment and wait for me. I arrived at the home of Don Julian at the appointed time, and found the father and daughter awaiting me. A few moments later, Don Rodrigo arrived and we were seated in the parlor facing the street. It was splendidly appointed. Although the exterior of many Peruvian residences appear shabby, the interior presents a far different appearance.

I requested Felicita to play for us and time pa.s.sed quickly. Dinner being called I took the liberty of escorting Felicita to the table and was given the place beside her. The Indian servants between courses, kept our gla.s.ses filled. Felicita did not take wine, and when dinner was over retired, leaving us to enjoy our cigars and liquor. We afterwards adjourned to the parlor, where I gave my friends an account of my life since our first meeting. I could see that Don Rodrigo took every opportunity to make light of my narrative.

I did not allude to being in Ilo during the Amythist and Huascar affair, but after I had given my friends a brief account of myself, Don Rodrigo asked me my nationality. I told him I was Scottish. He then asked me what I thought of the Huascar affair, hoping no doubt to belittle my standing with Don Julian. I replied that I had given it very little thought, and moreover considered it a question for both governments to settle, and was satisfied that everything would be adjusted amicably.

My reply seemed to annoy him, as he doubtless thought I would commit myself, and take the part of the British. He arose, and pleading a press of business, begged permission to retire. He shook hands with Don Julian and daughter, but merely bowed to me. I was glad he was gone.