Roger the Bold Part 30

"Then we will set out in the canoes as soon as the brigantines are within a few leagues," answered Roger. "I will go now to the port and prepare to sail."

An hour later he, with Philip to keep him company, set foot on one of the bulky craft constructed of several canoes, and put off from Mexico.

They were followed by Peter and a host of the Mexicans, some in the larger craft which were propelled by sails, and more in the single canoes urged by means of paddles. The whole fleet steered from the city towards the enemy, and met them some three leagues away, where they lay, the brigantines swaying to and fro, their canvas flapping idly, for there was now no wind at all.

"Nothing could be more favourable," exclaimed Roger. "We will attack at once, and before they get a breeze to help them."

The cotton sheets which were hoisted aboard the larger craft were lowered, and paddles seized. Then the fleet of canoes dashed forward, forty or more making for each brigantine.

CHAPTER XVII

A Fleet of Brigantines

Boom! A cannon-shot thundered from the nearest brigantine, and a ball ploughed its way through the very heart of the fleet of Mexican canoes.

Boom! a second shot rang out, and was followed by a fusillade, which was helped from each one of the s.h.i.+ps.

"Forward!" called out Teotlili, who was with Roger and Philip. "Take no heed of their shot, but close in and scramble aboard. Our numbers will overwhelm them."

"Shout to the men to separate," called out Roger; "then there will be less chance of being hit. Now, push on. A breeze would ruin our chances."

"And one is coming, my leader," said Peter, mournfully, pointing to the sky. "There is wind there, and it will fill the sails before we can get to this fleet. They are a long cannon-shot from us yet, and there is time for them to gather way. Better perhaps to retire."

"Better to risk disaster than do that," exclaimed Roger, sharply. "To retire would be to dishearten the men. Forward! We will make a brave attempt to capture them."

He urged the rowers to get the bulky craft ahead of the others, and, thanks to the fact that more than thirty were plying the paddles, the boat shot ahead and took the lead. Then Roger pointed to the largest of the brigantines.

"Run us aboard that," he said in peremptory tones, "and, Philip, prepare to follow me over the side. The natives will come after us willingly, and with a rush we may capture the craft. Now, push on, push on!"

His eye s.h.i.+fted from the brigantines to the sky, and back to the surface of the lake. It was ruffled already, he noticed, and the large, flapping sails of the enemy's fleet flapped louder still, while some bellied. It was a question of time, he knew, for if the brigantines could get the wind, and a good one, too, they could sail away from the canoes, could circle round them, and deluge the Mexicans with shot. Worse still, these bulky vessels, the like of which had never appeared on the lake before in the memory of man, would, if they were sailed boldly down upon the canoes of the Mexicans, overwhelm them, and ride over them as if they were straws floating in the water. It was a race, and Roger and his men made strenuous efforts to win it.

"They are off. Look at their sails. They are under way! Master Roger, 'twould be better to beat a retreat."

Peter took him by the sleeve, but our hero shook him off.

"We have men to spare, even if the whole fleet be sunk," he said, "and at this stage of the battle it is better to risk all than to set a bad example. Let us show the Spaniards that we will not be conquered without a struggle. Come, take the tiller, and set us aboard."

He was inflexible now that he had given his orders, and, come what might, was determined to give battle to the enemy.

"It may seem unwise," he said to himself over and over again, "but it is a necessary act, I am sure. Besides, if we could cripple one of the brigantines only it would be something gained, even at the cost of thousands of lives. And, if the wind is really coming steadily, they would be after us if we retired, and would treat us just as badly as they can do now. No. Attack is the only thing for us, and we will see it through."

By now the two fleets were rapidly approaching one another--the Spaniards moving slowly through the water, with their sails only half filled, while the Mexican fleet advanced at a swifter pace, propelled by paddles. Those who were free to do so answered the cannon-shots with shouts and shrill whistles, while every canoe showed a number of dusky figures brandis.h.i.+ng their arms. Occasionally a shot would strike one of the tiny craft, and she would sink at once, the occupants swimming away to others, or turning their heads toward the city. Roger hardly noticed these, however. His eye was fixed upon the large brigantine, which he was determined to capture. And those aboard her evidently saw his object, for they trained a gun upon him and took careful aim.

"'Tis the dog of a white giant," said the gunner who trained the piece.

"Stand back, while I blow him to atoms!"

He waved his comrades to one side and squinted along the sight. Then he raised his head and peered over the side.

"The breeze comes stronger," he said with a husky laugh, "and maybe the gun will not be required. But I will try. I would give a gold doubloon to be able to strike the head from that fellow."

Once more his eye went to the piece, and he adjusted the aim minutely.

Then he touched the vent with his port-fire and sprang away. There was a roar, a spout of smoke and flame flew from the brigantine's side, and a shot hummed over the craft in which Roger stood.

"A close ball," he remarked with a laugh. "The Spaniards have singled us out and hope to sink us. But we shall be there before they can repeat the attempt. Warn the men to be ready."

Teotlili did as he was asked, and then stood beside his friend, both watching the gunner aboard the brigantine. By now they were much closer, and it was possible to make out his figure distinctly, and even to see his features.

"A face which I have good cause to know," exclaimed Roger, suddenly, staring at the enemy. "That is Alvarez, the traitor who stole the golden sign and afterwards nearly stabbed me to death. There is added reason for capturing that vessel. Urge the rowers on, Teotlili. Time is of the utmost importance."

Time was, in fact, of more than the utmost importance. Every minute brought added freshness to the wind, and the brigantines, which a little while before had lain there rolling lazily, were now running free, and churning up a salt wave at their bows. It became no longer a race, for the Spaniards now bore down upon the fleet of Mexican canoes; but it was simply a question of where the combatants would meet, and whether the canoes would be able to grapple with the enemy.

"We shall be stove in and sunk at once," said Peter; "and now it is too late to retire. Better give orders to all to seize the vessel and abandon this."

"Whereby we shall make sure of her capture," exclaimed Roger. "A good thought, Peter, and the order shall be given. Tell all the crew to spring for the rail and fight their way on to the deck, Teotlili. Let them desert this craft, for it will be useless. Ah! the distance grows less. That ruffian is about to fire."

He pointed to the bows of the brigantine, to the figure posted there, now without doubt that of Alvarez. He was peering over the rail again, waiting for the craft to come to closer quarters, and the smoke of his port-fire could be seen as he blew upon it.

"For the G.o.d of air!" he shouted out, catching sight of Roger and waving the brand. "This will send him quicker to his end than would the stroke of a dagger. One minute and he and his men will be blown from the water."

He shook his fist at the approaching canoe, and then bent to his sights again.

"Put us over a little," said Roger, quietly, touching Peter's arm to attract his attention. "Now, Teotlili, let the men stop rowing."

Paddles were at once drawn from the water, while the way on the craft allowed her to be steered to one side. She shot to the left, while the brigantine held on her course. Almost at the same moment Alvarez blew on his port-fire again and applied it to the vent, sending a charge of small shot tearing through the air, to strike the surface of the lake within a few feet of the canoe.

"Row, and put us over again," shouted Roger. "That is right. She will strike us within a minute, and we must climb. Put her nose up as the brigantine gets close, and then she will not roll us over."

There was a moment of confusion while the orders were carried out. But Peter was an excellent seaman, and had been in dangerous work before. He held his tiller firmly, beckoned to the rowers to give a few strokes with their paddles, and then, just as the stem of the brigantine bore up for the broadside of the craft, he put his helm over again, causing the enemy's vessel to sail smoothly alongside.

"Aboard her! Cling to her rails," shouted Roger, springing to that side of the canoe and leaping for the deck of the brigantine. He was followed by every man aboard, and ere a minute had pa.s.sed some fifty natives were hanging to the brigantine--some half upon the deck, while others merely retained a grip of the rail. As for their canoe, it swung round till the stern was caught by the brigantine, which happened to roll at that instant. The impact caused the Mexican craft to crumple up as if she had been made of paper, and before anyone could have thought it possible it had gone to the bottom. It was a desperate situation for the attackers, and all recognized that victory must be won if they wished to live. One by one they scrambled on to the deck, though a few were flung off by the Spaniards. But the latter had been taken by surprise at the sudden manoeuvre of the Mexicans, and before they could dash along to that side, Roger and Peter and Philip stood firmly upon the deck, with some forty natives beside them.

"Charge before they can use their muskets and crossbows!" shouted Roger.

"St. George! St. George! Follow to the stern."

His sword was held firmly in his hand, and he had long ago donned his steel cap. With that to protect him, and a thickly padded cotton jerkin over his chest, he flung himself upon the astounded Spaniards recklessly, his eye searching for Alvarez. Men opposed him, and dashed at him with their swords. But he hardly seemed to notice. His deft blade put the thrusts and cuts aside, while his furious blows cut his a.s.sailants down. One man even discharged a musket in his face, the bullet tearing over his head, while the flames from the discharge singed his hair. But Roger hardly noticed the incident, for at that very moment he had caught sight of the crafty Alvarez standing in rear of his comrades, where he had run from the bows.

"Ah, Alvarez the traitor!" he shouted scornfully, while the Spaniard glared at Roger like a tiger. "Alvarez the traitor, who took us all in and deceived us. Well, within a minute I shall be with you, and then there shall be payment of my debt. Let every one who comes within reach of that man secure him alive, for I want him. And be sure to take him with the satchel which he wears beneath his arm."

Roger's quick eye had seen the same bag in which he had brought the golden sign ash.o.r.e now secured over Alvarez's shoulder, and doubtless containing the coveted disc--the plaque which held the secret of the Mexican treasure, and which, if he could only secure it, would lead to an immense reward for himself and the expedition; that is, supposing he and his comrades escaped from Mexico, which was not at all certain. In the meanwhile they had their hands sufficiently full, for as they fought on the deck of the Spanish brigantine, the other vessels sailing beneath the flag of Castile bore down upon them, churning their way through a ma.s.s of canoes, which were swamped for all the world as though they were but tiny sh.e.l.ls. None of the Mexican craft could withstand these heavy vessels--not even those constructed by Peter Tamworth. The huge prows of the brigantines crashed into them and bore them down, rolling them and their freight over, and sending the canoes to the bottom. The natives, however, could swim like fish, and while numbers made vain attempts to clamber aboard the brigantines, others swam to their comrades or turned for the long swim home. But they had to contend with more than water alone, for as the brigantines ran, the Spanish plied the enemy with their guns, using small shot, one of which was sufficient to wreck a canoe, while broadsides often slew fifty and more of the unfortunate Mexicans. Then the crossbow-men aboard turned to the brigantine on which Roger and his friends fought, sending their shafts amongst them.

"Tell some of our men to keep down that fire," gasped Roger, halting for a moment and turning to Teotlili. "Now, Peter and Philip, one more effort and we will drive these Spaniards out into the lake. Shoulder to shoulder, and bring up some of the natives with the lances. We will make a capture, and will take this fellow Alvarez; for see, the disc is hanging to his shoulder."

They gathered into a close body again, and at a shout from our hero advanced along the deck at a run. The Spaniards opposed them stubbornly, but the lances kept the swordsmen well away, while the crossbows held the fire from the nearest brigantines. And while the lances hampered the enemy, Roger and his two comrades, together with a number of the Mexicans who were armed with their obsidian swords, dashed into close quarters, and struck fiercely at their opponents. There was a desperate melee, a struggle, the fate of which hung in the balance, and a conflict at which Alvarez the traitor stared as if he were dumfounded. He was cornered. He saw before him men who were determined to win, and men, moreover, who had a personal enmity for himself. He remembered his treachery--the dastardly blow which he had struck at the young giant fighting in the very centre of the s.h.i.+p's deck, and he trembled now for the consequences. He stood with the port-fire still smouldering in his hand, and a look of terror on his face. Then seeing his comrades slowly giving way, he dived below and disappeared for a moment.

"He is a coward at heart," shouted Roger, who had kept an eye on him.

"He has slunk below the deck, and there we shall find him. Now, one rush and we shall have the craft."