University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.
THE PASSAGE OF THE BRAVO.

The stars were beginning to grow
pale in heaven, and a faint grayish
tint was creeping gradually upward
from the eastern horizon, and usurping
the dark azure of the cloudless sky,
when the light sleep of the Partisan
was interrupted by the long tremulous
low whining of his favorite horse.

He started to his feet in an instant,
and listening eagerly, and again laying
his ear to the ground, as on the previous
evening, speedily became aware that a
large body of horse was passing along
the hard prairie, not far from the skirts
of the timber. Instantly awakening the
young Lieutenant and his dragoons, he
bade them strike the tent, load the
mules, and saddle the chargers with

all possible speed and silence, keeping
their arms ready, for that danger was at
hand.

This done, he took up his trusty rifle,
and stole away with a noiseless step to
reconnoitre the party, which had now
come so near, that the clank of the
steel seabbards against the stirrup irons
was distinctly audible above the hollow
sound of the horses' tramps.

The noise, however, gradually died
away, the troopers having evidently
ridden down the outer edge of the
forest to the southward, without noticing
the track left by the horses of
our company.

Within ten minutes, Pierre returned
with a very serious countenance.

“There are above an hundred of
them,” he said, “regular lancers of
Carrera's band. They have gone
southward for the present, but we may
expect them back within an hour, for
they are evidently on the look out for
our trail, which they must have followed
from the last bottom, and lost at night
on the dry prairie; had the morning
been one hour more advanced, they
must have seen it, and we should have
been all killed, before this time; for
they make no prisoners.”

“There is no time to lose, then,”
said Gordon hastily, looking with an
anxious eye to the face of his wife, who
was already equipped and ready to
mount. “Let us get to horse at once,
and put the river between them and
us.”

“That is soon done, so far as we
men are concerned,” replied the Partisan;
“but how do you get her across
rivers, such as this? It is a broad
stream, and the current runs like a mill
race. It is enough to dazzle the eyes
and turn the head of a strong man to
swim it, let alone a lady.”

“We have an India-rubber pontoon
here,” he answered, pointing to a sort
of oval bag of that material, depending
from two air cylinders of the same stuff,
which, when inflated, and distended by
two or three short staves, formed a
rude boat, and which, when not in use,
could be folded into a small compass,
and packed on a mule's saddle. “It is
all ready, and can be drawn to the farther
bank, easily, by the cord coiled in
the bow.”

“Let her get in, then, in God's
name!” replied the Partisan; “for all
this takes time, and we have little
enough of that to spare.”

And, with the words, he led his own
horse, now fully accoutred, down to
the shore, at the spot where he had
watered the animal on the previous
evening, followed by the dragoons,
three of whom led the beasts, while one
carried the light pontoon.

Gordon brought up the rear, with his
fair delicate wife hanging upon his arm,
and smiling with serene and beautiful
confidence in the protection of her gallant
husband.

Arrived on the bank, all the dragoons
mounted and entered the broad and rapid
river, which could not at this spot
have been less than five hundred yards
in width. Three of them leading the
pack mules and the lady's jinnet, and
the fourth carrying in his hand the reel
on which was wound the tough cord of
twisted hide, by which the frail bark
was to be drawn across the whirling
current.

So strong was the stream that, although
the horses swam well and stoutly,
and although the dragoons were as
well trained to the management of their
horses in the water as on dry land, they
were carried a great distance down the
river before they were enabled to make
the opposite bank; and the cord attached
to the pontoon, long as it was, would
have proved insufficient had not the
Partisan run down the hither shore
with the light boat in his arms, thus
easing the strain, until he reached a
point opposite to the spot, where with a
fearful struggle the half-exhausted animals
succeeded in landing.

Then with a bright eye and a cheerful
smile on her lovely face, the soft
and delicate young woman entered the
frail vessel, which sunk so deeply in the
water, even under her slight burthen,
that the extreme edges only of the cylinders
which supported it were visible
above the surface of the swift glancing
waters.

“Shut your eyes, you were best, sweet
lady,” cried the rough veteran of the
woods, moved almost to tears by the
dauntless heroism of one so young, so
gentle, and so tender—for she showed
not a sign of terror in committing herself

to a bark, which many of the hardiest
tars that ever braved the perils of a
storm-tossed ocean would have refused
to enter. “The rapid whirl of those
waters will dazzle your eyes, and if
your head fail you, there will be peril
indeed.”

“It will not fail me,” she said with a
calm smile. “My heart will keep it
steady. I am sure there is little danger;
and if there be danger I would rather at
least meet it with my eyes open, and
look upon him to the last,” and with the
word she laid her hand playfully on Gordon's
shoulder.

He caught her in his arms, and strained
her to his heart, which beat far more
wildly than her own at the thought of
the peril she ran, while a tear sparkled
for a moment in his clear grey eye.

A strange pang, which in the simplicity
of his bold honest heart, was unaccountable
to himself, shot through the
bosom of the Partisan, as he looked on
that warm and close embrace; as he
saw that exquisite form clasped palpitating
in the permitted arms of her husband.
He started at the new sensation,
out he had not the time if he had the inclination
to analyze it.

For, tearing herself away suddenly
from his arms, she seated herself in her
nautilus skiff, and cried in a merry voice,
“Now push me off, and be sure you
keep the boat steady.”

The husband's heart failed him, as
he obeyed her bidding, and paid out
the line, from another reel similar
to that held by the dragoon on the farther
shore, which hindered the little
boat from falling bodily down the
stream.

The danger was, however, greater in
appearance than in reality, for the pontoon
was so buoyant, and the weight it
bore so trifling, that it breasted the current
gallantly; and the light laugh of the
lady came pleasantly to the ears of the
husband and his comrade, as, pleased by
the easy and rapid motion she waved
her kerchief gaily, really amused and
rejoiced at what might well have terrified
hearts which should have been
stouter, and nerves of heavier mould.

The soldiers on the other shore reeled
the strong line in actively, and in the
same proportion Frank Gordon paid it
out; till after a safe and gentle naviga
tion of perhaps ten minutes, he had the
satisfaction of seeing the pontoon made
fast to the bank, and his fair bride lifted
out with assiduous though rugged courtesy,
by the stout soldiers, who had
learned to love their lieutenant's lady,
for the gentle, yet spirited endurace with
which she supported every hardship, and
the gay mirth with which she made light
of every danger.

Scarce was she landed, ere she was
seated on the back of her beautiful and
docile palfrey, which, recruited by its
night's rest and plentiful pasture, pawed
the earth, eager to be once more in motion,
and neighed clear and shrill in invitation
to its comrades.

Gordon had already ridden a yard
or two into the river, when he was attracted
by the singular aspect and expression
of the Partisan. Both horse
and man stood like statues, carved by a
master's hand to express the utmost of
anxiety and expectation.

The charger's fine limbs positively
trembled with excitement, his small thin
ears were pricked acutely forward, his
large eyes dilated, and his nostrils distorted
to the utmost, and as red as
blood.

Pierre sat erect in his saddle, gazing
with his keen dark eye into the recesses
of the forest, his left hand raised to his ear,
for he had let fall his reins on the disciplined
charger's neck, and his cocked
ritle ready in the right.

The next instant, a single Mexican
came into view, wheeling his small but
fiery horse round the thicket, which
had sheltered their encampment, at full
gallop.

His scarlet poncho streaming far behind
him in the current created by the
swiftness of his own motion through the
atmosphere, his high crowned hat glittering
with silver ornaments, his gaily fringed
and embroidered leggins, and his long
straight sword clattering against his huge
wooden stirrup, or jingling against his
great uncouth spurs, rendered him a singularly
picturesque and striking object,
amidst the wild and luxuriant scenery
of the forest, glimmering as it was in
the still dewy twilight of the early
dawn.

He was viewed, however, by eyes
which cared little for his picturesque attire,
and thought little of effects or accidents—as

a painter would have styled
them—which, at another time would
have filled one of them, at least, with
ecstatic admiration.

He did not at first observe the Partisan,
so motionless did he stand, backed
by a thick clump of thorny bushes which
gave no relief to his dark charger and
sad-colored garments, but gallopped
fiercely forward spurring his horse violently,
and evidently following the track
of the party which he was pursuing, and
which he probably believed to be far
more remote than it indeed was.

The rifle of the Partisan rose slowly,
and with a steady motion, to his shoulder,
and there remained as still and firm as
though it and the extended arm which
supported it, had been wrought in bronze
or iron.

Its bead bore full on the exposed breast
of the Mexican, with an eye keen and
sure as the soaring eagle's glaring along
the barrel, and a finger to which no extremity
of peril could communicate the
slightest tremor pressing the fatal trigger.

Had that trigger been drawn, no mortal
aid could have availed to save the
forfeit life; but the Partisan paused to
see whether the rider was alone or had
followers. Had a second horseman
come into sight, the flash would have followed
the sight, and sure death the ragged
bullet.

But no follower appeared, and now the
ranchero, for such he seemed to be, was
within forty yards of Pierre, when he saw
the horse, the man, the levelled rifle—
when he recognised the being he most
feared on earth, the far-famed Partisan.

Wheeling his horse in an instant, by
dint of his cruel massive bit which threw
him on his haunches, as if by magic, the
terrified wretch turned to fly in the direction
of the troopers, who had gone
down to the southward, and were not
probably even now more than a mile distant.

Satisfied by the man's flight that he
was unsupported, Pierre rapidly uncocked
his rifle and threw it to the ground,
turning as he did so to forbid Gordon—
who had unslung his carabine, and
now half suspecting treachery in his
guide, was raising it to his eye—from
firing.

“Not for your life!” he cried—“not
for your life! cross the river, and ride
due westward. I will deal with this
dog.”

And, with the word, gathering up the
reins in his left hand, he gave Emperor
the spur so suddenly that he bounded six
feet into the air, with all his feet together,
and dashed at once into his tearing gallop.

Meanwhile the rider had uncoiled the
lasso, which hung from the pummel of
his saddle, and, whirling it around his
head in the true Spanish fashion, thundered
along in pursuit of the fugitive at a
tremendous pace.

The Mexican had, it is true, some fifty
yards the start of his pursuer, and knowing
that he was riding for his life, or at
least for his liberty, plied his longrowelled
spurs with desperate energy.

The animal he rode was swift and active,
though small and low of size, being
descended probably from the old Andalusian
blood, and the best in Europe from
its greater admixture with the Moorish
strain, which was imported to this continent
by its first conquerors.

But fleet and high-spirited as it was,
it had not the least chance of contending
against the vastly superior power
and longer stride of the Anglo-American
thorough-bred.

On drove the Emperor, covering sixteen
feet at every stroke, and gaining
every second upon the trembling fugitive.
Now he was within twenty yards'
distance, when the ranchero turning in
his saddle deliberately levelled his escopeta
at the Partisan.

It would seem, however, that he had
not calculated upon his enemy's being
armed with the formidable lasso, or
upon his ability in using it; for the
instant he saw it circling in the air
around his head, and on the point of
being cast against him, his whole countenance
altered, and he trembled so violently
that it scarce seemed possible he
could retain his seat in the saddle.

In another moment his carabine
would have been discharged, and the
alarm communicated to the other troopers;
but ere he could pull the trigger,
the Partisan wheeled Emperor by a
quick movement of his hand and thigh,
and hurled the tremendous missile as
sure and almost as swift as his own unerring
bullet.

The noble horse, well knowing his
part in what was to ensue, stopped dead
short in his full career, the Partisan
throwing himself back in the stirrups,
and sitting as perfectly unmoved by the
shock, as if he had been a portion of the
charger he bestrode.

But that was not the only feat which
the instinct and experience of the gallant
beast had taught him; for, bracing
every muscle of his wiry and elastic
frame, he leaned so far over on the side
opposite to that whence the lasso had
been sped, that he would have fallen,
but for the violent resistance which ensued
instantly.

Aimed by an eagle eye, and launched
by a master hand, the terrible noose encircled
both the forelegs of the Mexican
horse as he sprang forward, was drawn
taut on the instant by the very speed of
the trammelled captive, and hurled
horse and rider headlong to the earth,
with a violence which left both for an
instant senseless.

The tremendous force of such a
check can better be conceived than described;
but it was so great that in
spite of the superior weight and bone
of the Emperor, it would probably have
cast him also to the ground, but for
the position in which he received the
shock; and, as it was, he was dragged
several yards, his hoofs literally ploughing
up the forest soil in deep furrows before
he could recover perfect control of
his limbs.

The next moment Pierre had leaped
from his saddle and sprang upon his
captive, almost before he opened his
eyes on recovering from his terrible fall.

Ere he had regained his senses, he
was disarmed, and his arms pinioned so
far behind him, that although he could
use his hands and forearms from the elbow,
he could not raise them to his
head, or make any attempt either to
strike or parry.

His horse was next released from the
lasso, and allowed to recover its feet,
which it did trembling with terror, and
sweating at every pore, but not nearly
so much shaken or bruised by so violent
a fall as might have been expected,
owing probably to the softness of
the ground.

The noose of the lasso was now
transferred to the neck of the unhappy
Mexican, whose swarthy features had
changed to a sort of greenish-yellow
hue, standing as he did in imminent
terror of instant death by strangulation,
of which indeed he appeared to be in
no small risk.

“Life!” he cried, piteously in Spanish,
“life! for the love of God, and the
most holy Virgin! For charity! give
me my life, Senor American!”

“Mount your horse, fool!” replied
the Partisan, sternly, “who the devil
do you think would trouble himself to
take such a miserable life as yours.—
Mount your horse, I say, and cease
your howling, or I will send my knife
through your coward heart!”

He also used the Spanish tongue,
which he spoke not only idiomatically,
but with all the ease and fluency of a
native; and to enforce his threats, he
laid his hand with a grim smile on the
hilt of his formidable wood knife.

Admonished thus, the man climbed
awkwardly to his saddle, and when
once there was secured in his seat by
Pierre, who, cutting the lasso from the
Mexican's saddle, fastened his feet with
it under his horse's belly, though not so
tightly as to deprive him of the necessary
command of the animal.

This done, he released his arms, and
bidding him in a stern, quiet voice follow
him close and silently, if he did not
desire to be strangled, he leaped lightly
into his own saddle, and cantered back
toward the river followed by his captive,
who took admirable care to keep
so nigh to his conqueror that the strain
of the harsh cord about his neck should
not be drawn any tighter.

In the meantime, Lieutenant Gordon,
who had at first watched the chase
with some apprehension, and very great
anxiety lest the fugitive should escape,
had no sooner seen the lasso hurled,
and the downfall of man and horse,
than, perfectly content to trust all to
the skill and judgment of a man who
had exhibited such readiness of thought
and action, he addressed himself to obey
his directions; and putting his horse
steadily down the bank into the river,
swam it gallantly, holding his pistols
above his head in his right hand, in order
to keep the powder dry in case of
future emergency.

Before he was half way across, the

Partisan came up at a brisk hard canter,
with his trembling prisoner in tow,
whose sword, pistols, and escopeta he
threw into the river, and then taking
his own pistols from the holsters, and
holding them aloft like Gordon, plunged
in himself and swam stoutly over, dragging
the unfortunate ranchero in mortal
terror after him.

“Whom, in the name of everything
that is wonderful!” cried Julia, half
laughing at the wo-begone expression
and blanched features of the Mexican,
half erying from the excitement he had
undergone. “Whom have you got
there, Partisan, and what are you going
to do with him?”

“A Mexican spy, lady,” replied the
frontiersman, as coolly as if he had not
ridden faster than a foot's pace for the
last hour. “And I am going to cut his
ears off, if he tells me the least bit of a
lie; and to hang him up by the heels
for the vultures and carrion crows to
eat, if he makes the least offer to escape.”

Which pleasant intentions he forthwith
rendered clearly compreheusible
to the prisoner, who had previously
given some signs of appreciating his
meaning, which he gathered from the
gestures of the speaker, by translating
his last words into very choice Spanish,
for his especial benefit.

Thereupon followed Misericordias!
and Santissima Virgins! and nombre de
Dios! beyond all powers of mortal computation:
the poor devil working himself
into a perfeet paroxysm of terror,
until at length, compassionating his miserable
apprehensions and his tears—
for he aotually wept as he implored his
life from the pitiless man, as he supposed,
into whose hands he had fallen—
Julia relieved him, by assuring him, in
pure Castillian, which fell deliciously
soft and musical from her gentle lips,
that his life was in no danger, since
Americans never slew their prisoners,
especially in the presence of their ladies;
and that even his ears should be
spared, provided he told them the truth,
and made no effort to escape before
they should reach their friends. In
which event, she added, he should not
only be restored to liberty, but reward.
ed.

His thanks were profuse, and his pro
mises unbounded: thanks and promises,
both of which Pierre cut short by a grim
glance and a twitch of the halter, which
still encircled his neck; after which
summary process, for the enforcement
of silence, he said, with a courteous gesture
to the lady—“Now, then, if you
please, we will be moving. We are well
across the river; and if we put this belt
of wood between ourselves and the enemy,
they may not find our track, and so
may miss us altogether.”