Vagabond life in Mexico/Don Tomas Verduzco is shot by Juanito
CHAPTER IV
Don Tomas Verduzco is shot by Juanito.—Death of Captain Don Blas.
It was a difficult enterprise on which we had entered. Darkness masked the march of the robbers, whose trail it would be almost impossible to follow unless during daylight, as it led over a volcanic soil. We were certain that the stolen mules had not been taken in the direction of Perote. From the place where we now were, the lights in the village of Hoya were easily discernible even through the dense fog which stretched all round us. The news of our disaster could not be long in reaching that place, and the presumption was that the robbers were not to be sought for in that direction. The ground on the left side of the road was impracticable in the darkness, from the large number of sloughs and ravines which seamed its surface. There was no doubt but that the bandits had gained the woody heights on the right which overhung the road, and that the pursuit must be begun in that quarter. A soldier remarked that the light of our torches would betray our presence. We were ignorant of the number of our enemies, who could very easily see us from the lights we carried, and prudence prompted us to hide our motions in darkness. By the captain's order we extinguished the flambeaux, not, however, without casting a glance over the ground we were going to traverse. A steep path led to the crest of a ridge that overhung the road. Three of us, of whom I was one, remained to point out this particular spot. The rest were sent to explore the different paths which were to be met with more in advance. We waited in all stillness the return of the exploring party. Thus passed some minutes. The winds, sighing through the pines which formed a gloomy arch above the hollow road at whose mouth we were stationed, shook upon our heads the condensed mists which fell drop by drop from their sloping branches. At the end of half an hour the horsemen returned. They had seen nothing, but they were certain that no other path than the one on which we were posted led to the high road. If we followed it, we would be sure of hitting the right trail. The soldiers, animated by the hope of a rich reward, were as desirous to begin the pursuit as a pack of dogs to hunt a stag. The captain alone seemed to have no heart for the work, and the orders he gave betrayed a considerable amount of indecision. We began our march, however. Unfortunately, the darkness of the night made our progress very slow. At times, and during a short halt, one of the horsemen alighted and applied his ear to the ground, but not a sound was heard but the sighing of the wind. The rocky ground, carefully examined by the light of a cigar, seemed incapable of bearing even the slightest impress. Guided, however, by an inexplicable instinct, the soldiers did not appear to doubt but that the robbers had passed that way. The gravel soon ceased to crunch beneath our tread; we were now on softer ground. We had at last some chance of discovering the trace of the men or animals which had followed that road. Half of us alighted, and by the light of our cigars, or sparks from flint and steel, began examining with the utmost minuteness every bit of moss or bare earth on the path. Tracks crossed one. another in every direction; and at the end of a few minutes, a soldier uttered a cry of joy, and pointed out to us the distinct impress of the two feet of a mule. One of the marks showed that the animal had been newly shod, from the deeper dent made in the soft ground. This was, assuredly, the traces of one of the mules of the convoy that we had been forced to shoe that very morning. At this time we were marching only at random, and our delight at this discovery was intense. The trail was followed till it conducted us to a vast open clearing, a sort of square, from which several paths struck off similar to the one we had followed. There we were completely at fault.
A considerable time had now elapsed since we began our search. The captain, in order to husband our horses' strength in case of a new and longer pursuit would be required, ordered a halt. The different paths, which crossed one another in such confusion, could not, he said, be properly examined unless by daylight. The men began to murmur at this unexpected check; but obedience was necessary, and they all alighted. Some large fires were kindled, more for warmth against the freezing cold of the night, and to guard against a sudden surprise, than for the light they afforded. As I took no great interest in the search, I joyfully welcomed the opportunity I had of warming myself at a good fire, and of taking some repose, of which I stood in great need.
After a few minutes' talk, all was silent. The clearing in which we were bivouacked was illuminated throughout its whole extent by the light of our fires. Nothing was heard but the rapid and measured step of the two sentinels we had posted. Several hours rolled away; our fires were just dying out, and day could not be far off, when a cracking of broken branches was heard at some distance. One of our sentinels, his carbine in one hand and a torch in the other, advanced to the place whence the noise proceeded, and soon reappeared leading a mule, which, from its color, and the pack-saddle on his back, was easily recognized as one of those that had been stolen from the convoy. His broken bridle showed that, after having been deprived of his precious burden, they had tied him up in a thicket to prevent our finding him, and that the poor beast had only been able to gain our encampment by breaking his tether. Every body was soon on foot. The woods, perviated every where with paths, unhappily afforded us no new traces, and we much feared that the robbers had divided their plunder, and gone off in a different direction. This thought, which discouraged us so much, produced quite a different effect upon the captain. Up to this time Don Blas had seemed to take no interest in the pursuit, but now he flew into a violent passion, and uttered the most violent menaces against the bandits, whose daring had caused us to lose so much.
"Ah!" cried he, "if chance but throws any of them into my hands, I shall shoot them without benefit of clergy."
Speaking thus, Don Blas walked: backward and forward, hitting the ferns which branched out above us with his sabre.
"Whom will you shoot?" I asked.
"Whom?" replied the captain; "why, the first man that happens to fall into my hands."
"That will be a right which it may be difficult to exercise, for robbers on the high road have generally long arms."
"That's my concern," answered Don Blas, with a strange smile; "I will find the means to have the law on my side."
The captain immediately gave the word to mount. The soldiers, delighted at the prospect of regaining their lost time, welcomed the order with acclamation. I must confess that I could not account for this sudden change in the conduct of Don Blas. Why so much zeal after so much coldness? I pleased myself by thinking that hitherto it had been only in appearance, and that the captain had shown so much apathy at first for the sake of propriety, that it might not be thought he was actuated by too lively a desire to gain the reward promised by the arriero.One of the three paths which led out of the clearing was so narrow, and so little frequented, judging by the appearance of the ground, that, according to all appearance, it could not lead to any inhabited place. The other two were deeply marked with the footprints of men and animals. They would very likely lead to some hacienda, or rancho at least. According to the conjectures of the soldiers, the least trodden of the three paths was that which most probably the robbers had taken. Opinion being divided on that point, the captain ordered us to separate into two parties, and each, taking a particular path, to explore it to the utmost, and two hours after nightfall to rejoin one another in the clearing. Don Blas placed himself at the head of one of these detachments, the other was under the command of Juanito. As for myself, I followed Don Blas, although he did everything he could to dissuade me from doing so, but I had an instinctive notion that he would not be the man to prefer the most dangerous road. The path we had taken led us toward a wide plain. We soon arrived at an open square in the wood whence several roads diverged. This was a new embarrassment. Our band, however, proceeded in pairs to explore each of these ramifications.
"If this continue," I said to Don Blas, "we shall soon be completely separated from one another, and be liable to be pursued in our turn by those whom we are pursuing."
Still Don Blas did not think that any danger was to be apprehended by this division of our forces. He forthwith proceeded to reconnoitre one of these roads, and I accompanied him. However, when we had proceeded some distance from our companions, his ardor seemed suddenly to cool. He stopped his horse, which was before mine, and proceeded to expatiate upon the beauty of the landscape with the cool indifference of a dissatisfied tourist. The sun had dissipated the mist which had till now enwrapped us. The sky was clear and without a cloud, and a pleasant warmth soon made us forget the sharp and piercing cold of the preceding night. A slight perfume of guava, that the wind wafted along at intervals, was now and then mixed with the sharp and pungent odor of the pines. This was like a harbinger of the beautiful azure sky of the hot regions, and the magnificence of their luxuriant vegetation. We were now separated from the first of our party by several miles.
"I should like to know," said Don Blas to me, after a short silence, "how far the audacity of these brigands would go."
"That is very clear, it seems to me," I replied, "and, since yesterday evening, facts show very strongly how much they are capable of doing."
We had not proceeded far till we met with evidence which proved to us that we were now on the trail of the robbers. Don Blas, seeing some pieces of wood lying on the ground, alighted and picked them up. It was the remains of one of the little boxes in which the sacks of piastres had been packed. He then begged me, in spite of my entreaties, to remain where I was; and, wheeling his horse about, set off at full speed. A turn in the road soon hid him from my view, and I remained alone, without being able to explain the reason of his singular conduct. A painful suspicion, which I had been trying to drive from my mind for some time, now recurred to me with redoubled force. Had Don Blas really any connivance with those robbers, whose presence he wished to seek without a witness? Suddenly a distant shot was heard, which roused me from my reflections. I thought I heard likewise a feeble cry of alarm and distress. I listened, but every thing was calm and silent round me. Prudence urged me to retrace my steps. The captain might be killed; if still alive, dangerously wounded. In these two cases I could be of no assistance; but I resolved to return to procure help. Having come to the place where Don Blas and I had separated from our companions some time before, I discharged my two pistols in succession. I soon had the satisfaction of being rejoined by two of our men, whom I informed in a few words of what had passed.
"The brigands!" cried Juanito; "they are capable of killing my captain for his gold epaulets;" and, to prevent a proceeding so prejudicial to his interests, the sergeant set off at a gallop. The lancers imitated his example, and I followed them, impatient to rejoin Don Blas, but without much hope that Juanito would be deceived. My fears were soon changed to a painful certainty. The captain, unhorsed by the shot I had heard, lay upon the grass, his breast pierced by a ball, but still alive, in spite of the dangerous nature of his wound, and the blood that was flowing from it in abundance. We all hastened to assist him. One of the soldiers stanched the blood, and bound it up very dexterously with our handkerchiefs. While one of the escort went in pursuit of Don Blas's horse, which had escaped, and the captain, with his back to the trunk of a tree, was slowly reviving, I began to examine the ground on all sides. The unhappy man had evidently surprised the bandits at the very moment they were dividing their booty, for broken boxes and bags turned outside in strewed the ground in all directions. Refreshed by a sip of brandy that I caused him to swallow, Don Blas declared that he had seen nobody, and that he had but newly arrived at the place when he was stretched on the earth by a musket-shot. He then added that he knew the hand that had fired the piece. This was too singular a contradiction to provoke a reply. Whether he had said too much, and, being fatigued, wished to say no more, I know not, but he spoke not another word. In the mean time his horse had been caught, and the wounded man affirmed that he thought himself sufficiently recovered to be able to reach the convoy. Still, his strength not being equal to his inclination, it was necessary to lift him on horseback. A soldier mounted behind to support him and take the reins, and we set out on the road to Hoya.
We arrived there about midday. A new incident here awaited us. Scarcely had Don Blas been laid on one of the rough beds, hastily knocked up for him in a cabin in the village, when a detachment of the escort which had been scouring the country round all the morning brought in a prisoner with his hands tied behind his back. His face was blackened, and half concealed by a handkerchief. This disguise was most suspicious, as it is the one usually adopted by Mexican highwaymen. Under this hideous mask I fancied I discerned a remarkable circumstance the features of a man who had played a most prominent part in one of the most melancholy episodes of my wanderings, Don Tomas Verduzco. Surrounded by a crowd, he did not discern me. He entreated to be led to the captain; and his voice, though altered by his agitation, was still that of the bravo. I went before the men who were conducting him, and entered first into the hut where Don Blas lay. As soon as he saw the person they had brought him, his pale face became livid, and hatred gleamed in his eyes; he, however, said nothing. The prisoner stood unmoved, and an air of impudent assurance had replaced the expression of stupefaction that was visible a moment before in his countenance.
"What! Señor Don Blas!" cried he; "can I believe my eyes? Are you dangerously wounded? The conducta, it seems, has been pillaged in part, and I am accused of having assisted in that piece of villainy. Good God! it seems as if it were only a dream."
"I fear that it is something worse than a dream," replied the captain, coldly.
"What do you mean by that coldness?" said the bravo, for it was really he. "Your lordship will, perhaps, be less pleased at seeing me than I am in meeting you."
"On the contrary," answered Don Blas, in a voice to which excitement had restored all its former firmness, "I doubt if you are as glad to see me as I am to have you in my power."
"I do not understand you, Señor Captain," returned the bravo, impudently.
"You will understand me," said the captain. "If I am pleased at meeting you again, it is only that I may treat you as a highwayman, as a murderer, by shooting you at once, without benefit of clergy."
The look of the captain, which expressed an implacable hatred, added strength to his words; and the bravo, the predominant feature of whose character was evidently not courage, seemed almost to quail under this terrible menace, and he lost countenance for a moment. Seeing, however, that his wound gave Don Blas more assurance, he made a strong effort to master himself, and replied, in quite a firm tone of voice,
"Shoot me! That's rather a good joke; but I have more protectors than you think; and, if it is necessary, I will say—Señor Captain, I will say—"
It was now Don Blas's turn to tremble. The captain ordered the bravo to be silent by an imperious gesture; and, signing to Juanito to leave the room, remained alone with the assassin. I am wholly ignorant of what passed between these two worthies, and could only guess what cause had so suddenly changed the opinion of Don Blas with regard to Verduzco. I only know that, after an hour's conversation, the bravo quitted the captain's chamber under the escort of Juanito, who appeared from that moment to treat the prisoner with singular consideration.
The captain's wound did not, however, look so alarming as it did, and a considerable difference could even be observed upon his spirits. After passing two miserable days in the cabin at Hoya, I heard without much surprise that Don Blas thought himself sufficiently recovered to be able to accompany us to Jalapa in a litter, which the chief muleteer had constructed for the purpose. The wounded officer would probably find in that town better medical advice than he could get in Hoya. He could also keep his prisoner in his own hands and under his own guidance.
We had more than fifteen miles to go to reach Jalapa, and, although it was almost two hours after midday before we set out, it was possible to reach that town if we traveled at a quickened pace. This time, a reconnoitring party had been sent on in advance, and every precaution taken to guard against a new surprise. Juanito carried the prisoner behind him. The sergeant and his prisoner chatted as gayly as two friends who were going to the same fête, sharing the same horse. The convoy advanced at a rapid pace. We had now marched two leagues, and had reached San Miguel el Soldado. I then could not help observing that Juanito's horse, probably from its double burden, had lagged behind, and was now far in the rear. Restrained by curiosity from leaving the captive out of sight, I gradually checked the impetuosity of my horse in such a way as to follow Juanito and the bandit at a short distance.
"Caspita!" cried the sergeant, after a long silence, "you have on a capital pair of boots, Señor Don Tomas."
I must remind the reader that Juanito had only a bottine and a shoe.
"I am glad my boots please you," Verduzco replied, "and I would place them at your disposal, but you see I am not quite done with them yet."
"You are very kind, Señor Don Tomas," replied the sergeant, with equal courtesy, "but I mean that I would only borrow them from you when they are of no more use to you. That is always the way I do with my friends, and you are decidedly one. I shall wait, then."
The two horsemen then spoke in a low tone, and I could only catch snatches of their conversation. I was soon drawn away from the distraction into which I had been betrayed by the beauty of the landscape. We were just over San Miguel. From this elevated point the eye wandered over a charming valley, encircled by a belt of foggy mountains. The Naocampatepetl,[1] an extinct volcano, which has the appearance of a square block of stone, is the highest eminence in this range. At the foot of the peak of Macuiltepetl, upon a beautiful carpet of verdure which covers the valley, in the midst of orange-trees in full blossom, of lofty palm-trees, and bananas loaded with fruit, stands the town of Jalapa, set as in a garland of flowers. Placed between the icy fog of the mountains which sur round it and the hot atmosphere of the sea-coast, Jalapa is only visited by breezes laden with perfumes. The thick vapors, which hang like a curtain over the plain, lend to it a delicious freshness. Viewed from the top of the hill, where nothing was near but gloomy pines and a stunted vegetation, similar to that of the north, the valley which now lay at my feet seemed more enchanting from the contrast which it afforded.
Day at last came to a close. Macuiltepetl, and the sides of the extinct volcano, began to lose their shades of dusky violet, and already the peak of Orizaba[2] appeared at a distance like a brilliant star. At the bottom of the picture under my eye ran an almost imperceptible white line, which terminated to the right and left in the horizon. This line was the ocean, and it was not without a lively emotion that I contemplated that immense mass of water which laves the shores of France.
While I was absorbed in the contemplation of this enchanting landscape, the convoy had advanced considerably beyond me. I then fancied that the belt which bound the body of the bravo and the soldier together was not so tight as it used to be. This circumstance, remarked also by others, led me to believe that Juanito was conniving at a plan of escape on the part of the prisoner. I asked myself, though it was a business repugnant to my feelings, if I ought not to apprise the captain of the matter. However, I thought that my presence would be a hinderance to Verduzco's attempt to escape, and so preferred remaining where I was. Suddenly the belt, cut by the bravo's knife, divided into two, and the bandit, slipping from the horse's back to the ground, darted off at a run. The lancer was up with him at a single bound of his horse. Juanito applied the muzzle of his carbine to the bravo's head, drew the trigger, and blew out his brains before I could even utter a cry.
"On my word," said Juanito, replacing the carbine in its case, still smoking, "he can't complain that I have not had a regard for his feelings, for I could have got possession of his boots two hours sooner."
Set completely at ease on this delicate point, the sergeant dismounted, and, snatching the objects of his desire, pulled them off the corpse and put them on.
"I knew quite well," added he, "that I would complete my equipment at last."
"My dear Juanito," said I to him, "you are a faithful servant to the captain, although I always suspected the contrary; but there is a mystery wrapped up in this which I do not comprehend, and if you unriddle it for me I will give you a piastre."
"With much pleasure," said Juanito, taking the money; "I wish I could find every day a confessor equal in generosity to your lordship."
The sergeant remounted, and, while walking our horses together, he said,
"What you saw me do was by an order of the captain. To shoot this wicked knave would have been, in the eyes of the law, a crime that would have cost us dear; to place him in the hands of the judges would have offered him a favorable chance of getting off altogether; to kill him, on the contrary, when he was trying to escape, was quite lawful. The attempt at flight, at which I seemed to connive, was only a plan concerted between the captain and me, and the prisoner fell into the snare."
"But why has your captain acted in such a way to a man with whom he had formerly such intimate relations?"
"Ah! that's quite another thing!" replied Juanito. "Before sending Verduzco to a better world, my captain charged me to confess my prisoner. Here is what he told me, and which I will tell only to you, or to those who will give me a piastre for the information. Counting upon the influence which he had in high places, Verduzco engaged to procure for the captain an acting order as commander of the first convoy which left Mexico, the agreement being that he was to allow the conducta to be pillaged on its march, and that afterward the proceeds should be shared between them. Don Blas accepted these conditions; but I must say in his favor that he seemed to have repented of the bargain he had made with the bandit. Now, you know what happened to the convoy; but the best of the joke is, that the successful coup was made by another band than that of Verduzco's, who had not reckoned on any thing of the kind. While the bravo was waiting for the conducta beyond Hoya, another body of robbers, better informed, met it before it reached that place. It was by these wretches that the captain was wounded. He fancied that Verduzco had betrayed him, and it was on that account that I received the order to seize the first opportunity that offered to blow the ruffian's brains out."We spurred our horses to rejoin the convoy. As soon as Juanito perceived the captain's litter, he set his horse to a gallop, and rode alongside for a time. Some minutes passed, during which, bending to the patient's ear, he whispered to him the execution of his orders. Suddenly he ordered the convoy to stop. All pressed round the litter, and I galloped up to ascertain the cause of the halt. A painful feeling, produced by the sergeant's report, had brought on bleeding internally, and when I came up he was already in the last agonies.
The death of Don Blas severed the last tie that bound me to the silver convoy. I resolved to let it proceed without me. The scenes I had witnessed had left a painful feeling on my mind, and I was no longer able to support the company of men whose brutal passions were not satisfied till a crime had been committed. I then halted, and soon saw the cavalcade disappear in the mist, conveying a litter which contained only a corpse, the escort around it holding their lances reversed as a sign of mourning. Night approached. I set out, and reached Jalapa after a slow march, where my sombre and melancholy thoughts were soon re placed by more cheerful feelings.