The Valiant Runaways [13]
The guard house is in the left hand corner of the square. But
what could they do in an uprising? We must get rid of Anastacio. I will
go now and speak to Padre Flores."
Roldan went out into the square and strolled over to the soldiers'
quarters. The door was closed, but light streamed from an uncovered
window, and he had a good view of the guard room. A half dozen soldiers
were lying about on benches, half-dressed, smoking the eternal
cigarrito. Two were at a table writing. None looked alert, but as Roldan
passed out of the plaza to the open beyond, he encountered a sentinel
who was ready to gossip with the young don and told him that three more
were on duty on the several sides of the square.
Roldan strolled on to the rancheria, a collection of six or eight
hundred huts of mud and straw among a thicket of willows by the creek.
Here all was dark and quiet. He glanced through several of the
uncurtained windows and saw whole families peacefully asleep. Suddenly
he paused and held his breath, at the same time retreating into the
heavy shade of a willow. A number of doors had opened almost
simultaneously; there was the sharp crunch of dry brush, and dark
figures glided, with the snake-like motion peculiar to the Indian,
toward the upper end of the rancheria.
Roldan waited a moment, then followed softly. He had set himself the
duty of saving the Mission which had shown him hospitality, and was not
to be deterred. Moreover, the spirit of adventure was by no means
quenched.
In a few moments he paused opposite a large hut, from which issued a
subdued murmur. The window had been covered, but a thin ray of light
pierced through a crack in the door, and to this Roldan applied his eye.
The room was crowded with Indians standing respectfully about a man in
the middle of the room, whom Roldan knew instinctively to be Anastacio.
He was big and clean-limbed and sinewy, with small cunning eyes, a
resolute mouth and chin, and an air of perfect fearlessness. Roldan
warmed to him, and looked with admiration and envy at the muscles on his
splendid limbs.
He was speaking rapidly in the native patois, and Roldan could gather
little of his meaning beyond what his gestures conveyed. He shook his
fist in the direction of the Mission, snapped his fingers in scorn,
pointed toward the mountains, then made the motion of speeding an arrow
from the bow, at the same time contracting his face hideously.
Roldan stayed as long as he dared, then returned hastily to the Mission.
A friar was locking up for the night, and began to chide the young guest
for being out so late, but Roldan interrupted him impatiently.
"Can I see Padre Flores to-night?" he asked. "I must see him. It is
important."
"He has retired to his cell, but I will take your message; and he never
denies himself to those that need him."
He went to the end of the corridor and tapped at a door. In a few
moments he returned.
"Padre Flores will see you," he said.
The priest was standing by the little altar in the corner of his cell
when Roldan entered.
"What is it, my son?" he asked. "Have you learned anything new? Padre
Estenega has told me of your suspicions."
Roldan rapidly related what he had seen. The priest's face became grave
and anxious.
"There is trouble brewing, I fear," he said. Then he smiled suddenly.
"You ran away to avoid fighting. It would be odd if you found yourself
in the midst of it."
"I did not run away to avoid fighting," said Roldan, flushing hotly.
"Pardon, father; I meant that you have misunderstood. I do not choose to
be shut up in a barrack against my will, but I am ready to fight; and,
although I am not yet sixteen, you shall see that I can help you protect
your Mission. And Adan too."
"I am sure of it. I did but tease you. And your part shall begin to-
night. You are rested, no?"
"I feel as if I wanted no more sleep for a week."
"Very well. Tell brother Antonio--whom you met on the corridor just now
--to let you in the church by the side door and give you the key, with
what could they do in an uprising? We must get rid of Anastacio. I will
go now and speak to Padre Flores."
Roldan went out into the square and strolled over to the soldiers'
quarters. The door was closed, but light streamed from an uncovered
window, and he had a good view of the guard room. A half dozen soldiers
were lying about on benches, half-dressed, smoking the eternal
cigarrito. Two were at a table writing. None looked alert, but as Roldan
passed out of the plaza to the open beyond, he encountered a sentinel
who was ready to gossip with the young don and told him that three more
were on duty on the several sides of the square.
Roldan strolled on to the rancheria, a collection of six or eight
hundred huts of mud and straw among a thicket of willows by the creek.
Here all was dark and quiet. He glanced through several of the
uncurtained windows and saw whole families peacefully asleep. Suddenly
he paused and held his breath, at the same time retreating into the
heavy shade of a willow. A number of doors had opened almost
simultaneously; there was the sharp crunch of dry brush, and dark
figures glided, with the snake-like motion peculiar to the Indian,
toward the upper end of the rancheria.
Roldan waited a moment, then followed softly. He had set himself the
duty of saving the Mission which had shown him hospitality, and was not
to be deterred. Moreover, the spirit of adventure was by no means
quenched.
In a few moments he paused opposite a large hut, from which issued a
subdued murmur. The window had been covered, but a thin ray of light
pierced through a crack in the door, and to this Roldan applied his eye.
The room was crowded with Indians standing respectfully about a man in
the middle of the room, whom Roldan knew instinctively to be Anastacio.
He was big and clean-limbed and sinewy, with small cunning eyes, a
resolute mouth and chin, and an air of perfect fearlessness. Roldan
warmed to him, and looked with admiration and envy at the muscles on his
splendid limbs.
He was speaking rapidly in the native patois, and Roldan could gather
little of his meaning beyond what his gestures conveyed. He shook his
fist in the direction of the Mission, snapped his fingers in scorn,
pointed toward the mountains, then made the motion of speeding an arrow
from the bow, at the same time contracting his face hideously.
Roldan stayed as long as he dared, then returned hastily to the Mission.
A friar was locking up for the night, and began to chide the young guest
for being out so late, but Roldan interrupted him impatiently.
"Can I see Padre Flores to-night?" he asked. "I must see him. It is
important."
"He has retired to his cell, but I will take your message; and he never
denies himself to those that need him."
He went to the end of the corridor and tapped at a door. In a few
moments he returned.
"Padre Flores will see you," he said.
The priest was standing by the little altar in the corner of his cell
when Roldan entered.
"What is it, my son?" he asked. "Have you learned anything new? Padre
Estenega has told me of your suspicions."
Roldan rapidly related what he had seen. The priest's face became grave
and anxious.
"There is trouble brewing, I fear," he said. Then he smiled suddenly.
"You ran away to avoid fighting. It would be odd if you found yourself
in the midst of it."
"I did not run away to avoid fighting," said Roldan, flushing hotly.
"Pardon, father; I meant that you have misunderstood. I do not choose to
be shut up in a barrack against my will, but I am ready to fight; and,
although I am not yet sixteen, you shall see that I can help you protect
your Mission. And Adan too."
"I am sure of it. I did but tease you. And your part shall begin to-
night. You are rested, no?"
"I feel as if I wanted no more sleep for a week."
"Very well. Tell brother Antonio--whom you met on the corridor just now
--to let you in the church by the side door and give you the key, with