The Valiant Runaways [22]
It
was not twenty minutes before they heard a sharp volley of musketry, and
if their breath had not been short they would have laughed aloud at the
success of Roldan's strategy. The sky was turning grey as they reached
the straggling outposts of the forest on the mountain. The firing had
ceased. Their ruse had doubtless been discovered.
"We will hide for twenty-four hours and rest," Anastacio said to Roldan,
who was the only person he condescended to hold converse with, although
he allowed Adan to sun himself in his presence. "By that time, too, I
shall know their numbers. If they are many I'll draw them into the
mountains and fire from ambush. If few, they shall have open fight."
"You will let us see it?" asked Roldan, eagerly. "Of course I cannot
fight my own people; but I don't want to be sent to the pueblo, and I do
want to see a fight."
Anastacio hesitated. "Bueno," he said, "I owe you much. You give me the
word of the California don that unless I am killed you will not run
away?"
"I promise. There is nothing else to do. That is to say, I promise not
to run away before this battle is over."
"That is what I mean," said Anastacio, curtly. "Now we will sleep."
He disposed his men in the forest above a narrow, rocky canon into which
the enemy would hardly venture. Roldan volunteered to keep watch with
the two sentinels, and returned with them to the outskirts of the
forest. The enemy was marching steadily across the valley. After a time
they halted, and lay down for a time. Early in the afternoon they
resumed march, then halted again within a mile of the mountain, sending
two scouts ahead. By this time Anastacio had joined his sentinels, and
all four hid in the underforest between the great trees.
The scouts, keeping as much under cover as was possible, crept up the
lower spur of the mountain, their glance describing a constant half-
circle. When they were within a few feet of the fugitives, Anastacio
raised his bow and discharged two arrows in rapid succession. One buried
itself in the jugular of the foremost scout, and he huddled down among
the soft leaves without a cry. The other, equally well aimed, entered
the shoulder of the second scout, where it quivered violently for a few
seconds, then was torn forth and flung to the ground with a cry of
defiance. The Californian, disregarding his wound, raised himself to his
full height and pointed his pistol. But vaguely: the quiet, feathery
young redwoods told no tales. Then his eye fell upon his dead brother.
He turned and fled.
"They will not enter the forest," said Anastacio; "and when I am ready
they will fight, not before. Have you pencil and paper, senor?"
Roldan produced a treasured note-book that a relative had brought him
from Boston.
"Write," said the chief; and he dictated:--
SENOR DON CAPITAN,--At noon to-morrow we fight in the valley near the
eight oak trees and the two madronos. Do you wish to fight sooner you
can come into the mountains. It will be better for us.
ANASTACIO.
He tore out the leaf, crawled down the mountain as non-apparently as a
python, and pinned it high on an outstanding redwood, then returned and
told his sentinels to sleep, replacing them with others.
IX
That evening Anastacio called Roldan to him.
"I fear treachery," he said. "Who can trust five hundred men that have
learned too much? And the white men, they have better brains than mine.
I watch to-night. Will you watch with me, senor?--that I can sleep
before morning and rest for the fight."
"I will," said Roldan, enthusiastically. "And Adan also?"
"It matters not."
When the dusk was so thick in the aisles that every moving frond looked
like a man looming suddenly, one of the sentinels returned with the news
that the paper had been taken from the tree, and that the Californians
had pitched tents, and to all appearance were at rest for the night.
It was not likely that the enemy would venture into the forest at night.
They were not a large body, they were not pressed for time, nor
was not twenty minutes before they heard a sharp volley of musketry, and
if their breath had not been short they would have laughed aloud at the
success of Roldan's strategy. The sky was turning grey as they reached
the straggling outposts of the forest on the mountain. The firing had
ceased. Their ruse had doubtless been discovered.
"We will hide for twenty-four hours and rest," Anastacio said to Roldan,
who was the only person he condescended to hold converse with, although
he allowed Adan to sun himself in his presence. "By that time, too, I
shall know their numbers. If they are many I'll draw them into the
mountains and fire from ambush. If few, they shall have open fight."
"You will let us see it?" asked Roldan, eagerly. "Of course I cannot
fight my own people; but I don't want to be sent to the pueblo, and I do
want to see a fight."
Anastacio hesitated. "Bueno," he said, "I owe you much. You give me the
word of the California don that unless I am killed you will not run
away?"
"I promise. There is nothing else to do. That is to say, I promise not
to run away before this battle is over."
"That is what I mean," said Anastacio, curtly. "Now we will sleep."
He disposed his men in the forest above a narrow, rocky canon into which
the enemy would hardly venture. Roldan volunteered to keep watch with
the two sentinels, and returned with them to the outskirts of the
forest. The enemy was marching steadily across the valley. After a time
they halted, and lay down for a time. Early in the afternoon they
resumed march, then halted again within a mile of the mountain, sending
two scouts ahead. By this time Anastacio had joined his sentinels, and
all four hid in the underforest between the great trees.
The scouts, keeping as much under cover as was possible, crept up the
lower spur of the mountain, their glance describing a constant half-
circle. When they were within a few feet of the fugitives, Anastacio
raised his bow and discharged two arrows in rapid succession. One buried
itself in the jugular of the foremost scout, and he huddled down among
the soft leaves without a cry. The other, equally well aimed, entered
the shoulder of the second scout, where it quivered violently for a few
seconds, then was torn forth and flung to the ground with a cry of
defiance. The Californian, disregarding his wound, raised himself to his
full height and pointed his pistol. But vaguely: the quiet, feathery
young redwoods told no tales. Then his eye fell upon his dead brother.
He turned and fled.
"They will not enter the forest," said Anastacio; "and when I am ready
they will fight, not before. Have you pencil and paper, senor?"
Roldan produced a treasured note-book that a relative had brought him
from Boston.
"Write," said the chief; and he dictated:--
SENOR DON CAPITAN,--At noon to-morrow we fight in the valley near the
eight oak trees and the two madronos. Do you wish to fight sooner you
can come into the mountains. It will be better for us.
ANASTACIO.
He tore out the leaf, crawled down the mountain as non-apparently as a
python, and pinned it high on an outstanding redwood, then returned and
told his sentinels to sleep, replacing them with others.
IX
That evening Anastacio called Roldan to him.
"I fear treachery," he said. "Who can trust five hundred men that have
learned too much? And the white men, they have better brains than mine.
I watch to-night. Will you watch with me, senor?--that I can sleep
before morning and rest for the fight."
"I will," said Roldan, enthusiastically. "And Adan also?"
"It matters not."
When the dusk was so thick in the aisles that every moving frond looked
like a man looming suddenly, one of the sentinels returned with the news
that the paper had been taken from the tree, and that the Californians
had pitched tents, and to all appearance were at rest for the night.
It was not likely that the enemy would venture into the forest at night.
They were not a large body, they were not pressed for time, nor