Chapter Three.
A shooting expedition—Snaring parroquets—The dominie and the tiger-cat—A deer shot—The dominie proves that he is a man of courage—Blow-pipes and poisoned arrows—A jaguar hunt—Stories about jaguars—A fearful thunderstorm—The stricken tree—Reach home—A discussion on Liberty—Set out on a second expedition—Reach a hot spring—Visit to an old Cacique—The last of his race—Promises to aid the Patriot cause—Vinegar river—The dominie tastes the water—Uncle Richard’s farm—Return homewards—Paul Lobo meets us with bad news—Our night-ride to Popayan—Dona Dolores enlists the dominie—We reach Popayan—Arrangements made for the safety of our family—The dominie and I remain with my father.
I was in doubt whether Juan would accompany us. When I asked him, he replied that he wished to have some conversation with Don Ricardo, and that he should have an opportunity of speaking to him as we rode along. Leaving our own horses in the stable, we were supplied instead with active little mules, better calculated for climbing up and sliding down the steep declivities. We had a dozen couples of dogs, not quite as large as greyhounds, but of the same species.
“They will run down any of the wild animals found in these forests, as well as the danta, or wild ass—the black bear, red leopard, tiger-cat, the deer, and fox; though it is necessary to follow them closely, since, not being well broken-in, they will devour their prey, if they have an opportunity, before the hunter comes up,” observed Uncle Richard, as we were about to start, our canine companions barking and yelping round us.
We had not gone far when we saw an Indian in a large field of maize near the road, engaged in snaring the red-headed, green parroquets, which are here very numerous, and do much mischief to the crops of corn. The snares are very simple, being composed of a line of horse-hair, a slip-knot, and a loop, in the centre of which a little maize is sprinkled as a bait. As soon as the bird pitches on the grain, the Indian draws the line with a sudden jerk, and catches the bird by the legs. Just as we arrived he had caught one, which Hugh cried out he should like to have. On this the man brought it to him; but the bird fought so vigorously to obtain its liberty, and gave Hugh so severe a bite on the finger, that he was glad to let it go.
We had dismounted in order to enjoy a draught of water from a fountain which bubbled out of the hill-side, and to pluck some oranges from a grove irrigated by it. Mr Laffan had gone to a little distance, and we saw him stretching up to reach some fruit from a bough overhead, when he uttered a cry, or rather a howl to which an Irishman alone can give vent; and his foot slipping on a root which projected above the soil, down he came stretched at full length. But he was not inclined to lie long on the ground; and springing up, off he scampered. At the same instant a tiger-cat leaped out of the tree; while a covey of partridges, which had been nestling in the grass close by, rose with a loud “wurr,” still further alarming the dominie.
“Get your guns! get your guns!” he shouted. “There’s a huge tiger, or a jaguar, or a beast of some sort, close at our heels; he’ll be after seizing some of us, if we are not on our guard.”
As he spoke we saw the tiger-cat, quite as much frightened as Mr Laffan, scampering off in the opposite direction; and a hearty laugh, in which we all indulged, assured our friend that no danger was to be apprehended. Before we could get our guns ready, both partridges and tiger-cat had disappeared.
The air was pure and invigorating, and the scenery, made up of forests, mountains, and streams, was magnificent.
At length the dogs found a deer, to which, as it started off along the side of the hill, we all gave chase. Over fallen logs, gullies, and streams we galloped, finding it no easy matter to keep up with our nimble four-footed companions. Juan was the most active among us; holding his rifle in his hand ready for a shot, he at length got ahead. I saw him lift his weapon and fire, and as he did so the deer leaped several feet in the air and fell over dead. We soon had it flayed and cut up, when it was placed on the back of one of the mules brought for the purpose.
Several other deer were started, and I had the satisfaction of killing one with my own rifle; but Juan was the most successful.
The dominie, although he did not at first quite recover his nerve, had before long an opportunity of displaying his skill and courage. The dogs, which were ahead, were heard barking loudly.
“That’s not deer,” observed Uncle Richard; “it must be some savage animal at bay.”
We were hurrying forward—having, I should have said, dismounted from our mules—the dominie on this occasion leading, when, with a loud roar, a huge jaguar leaped from its covert, scattering the dogs on either side, and making directly toward us. Mr Laffan, dropping on his knee, and holding his rifle like an infantry soldier about to receive a charge of cavalry, waited until the jaguar was within twelve yards of him, when he fired. The creature bounded on, and I trembled for our friend’s safety; but in an instant, rising, he sprang on one side, and drawing his hunting-knife he struck it into the shoulder of the savage animal, right up to the hilt, when the jaguar rolled over with one convulsive struggle and was dead.
We all congratulated the dominie on his skill and coolness.
“I’m not in the habit of howling when I see a beast, but I was just now thinking to pick an orange, when the tiger-cat sprang at my throat. Faith! it was a little more than I bargained for,” he answered, laughing.
“It is certainly what any of us would have done; though few would have met a jaguar with the same coolness as you have exhibited,” observed Uncle Richard.
We arrived at length at a neatly-thatched cottage near a hacienda, belonging to a farmer who employed Indians chiefly in the cultivation of his fields. He was absent, but an old Indian who had charge of the house begged us to enter and consider it as our own. As the sun was high and the heat increasing, we were glad to find shelter beneath its roof. Here we spread the viands which had been brought in a pannier on the back of one of the mules.
Several of the Indians possessed blow-pipes, from which they projected arrows not more than eight inches in length; and with these we saw them bring down a number of parroquets and other birds in rapid succession. Scarcely had a bird been touched than, after fluttering for a few moments, it fell dead. The arrows, we found, were poisoned; and the Indians told us that the poison was produced from the moisture which exudes from the back of a small green frog. They declared that, to obtain it, the frog was put near a fire, and in the moisture which quickly appeared on its back they dipped the tips of their arrows. So speedy is the poison, that even a jaguar or puma which has received the slightest wound soon becomes convulsed and dies. Instead of feathers, a little cotton is wrapped neatly round the lower end of the arrow, to make it go steadily through the air: and at about an inch from the point it is spiral.
The major-domo told us that the farm, being at a distance from others, was frequently attacked by jaguars, which carried off pigs, calves, and sometimes even mules, although horses and the larger animals were generally too wary for them. He took us to a remote spot, to show us a trap which had been set for catching the jaguars. It was in a small circular plot of ground, enclosed with strong stakes of considerable height, to prevent the entrapped jaguar from breaking through or leaping over. A doorway is left for the jaguar to enter. Above this is suspended a large plank of wood communicating with one on the ground, over which the jaguar on entering must tread, and it is so contrived that as he does so the portcullis falls and shuts him in. A live pig is fastened by a rope in the centre of the enclosure as a bait. An Indian is always on the watch at night in a tree near the spot, and the moment the jaguar is caught he gives the alarm, and his companions assemble and despatch it with firearms and lances. Previous to our visit, a male and female jaguar had been caught together, but before the labourers could assemble they had almost eaten up the poor pig.
As we had already as much venison as we could carry, we agreed that we should like to go out with the old Indian factor, Quamodo, and hunt jaguars under his guidance, with as many of his people as he could collect. By the time luncheon was over, therefore, he had provided a party of Indians, armed with long lances, and a number of sturdy-looking dogs very unlike our own high-bred animals—which, being unfit for the purpose, were left behind under the charge of their keepers.
We proceeded some distance through the forest, the dogs advancing in regular order like riflemen skirmishing, so that there was no chance of a jaguar being passed without their discovering him. After keeping on for about a couple of miles, the dogs stopped and began to bay loudly; whereupon the old Indian told us to halt, with our arms ready for action, while the lance-men moved forward. The dogs, encouraged by their masters’ voices, continued to advance; and we soon caught sight of a jaguar thirty yards in front of us, seated on his haunches, prepared for fight. Several of the more daring dogs now sprang forward, but two paid dearly for their boldness; for the jaguar striking them with his huge paw, they soon lay dead at his feet. The Indians now allowed the dogs to attack the jaguar. Taught wisdom by the fate of their companions, however, they assaulted him in the rear, rushing in on his haunches, biting him, and then retiring. This continued for some time. Although the jaguar saw the men, he had first to settle with his canine enemies; and the efforts he made to keep them at a distance apparently considerably exhausted him. The Indians then shouted and threw sticks towards him, in order to irritate him and make him spring upon them; and having got up to within twenty yards of him, they next presented their lances in such a position that, when he might spring, they would receive him on the points. Suddenly he began to move; then he sprang, moving in a semicircular line, like a cat and uttering a tremendous roar. The lance-men kept their bodies bent, grasping their lances with both hands, while one end rested on the ground. I thought that the jaguar would have killed the man at whom he sprung, but the Indian was strong of nerve as well as of limb, and the point of his lance entered the jaguar’s chest, when the others immediately rushed forward and despatched the savage brute with their weapons.
Old Quamodo told us how it sometimes happens that a hunter unfortunately fails to receive the jaguar on his lance; and in many instances he is torn to pieces before he can be assisted. His only resource on such an occasion is his manchette, or long knife,—by means of which, if he can stab the jaguar, he may possibly escape. Quamodo also narrated how, upon one occasion in his youth, when he was very fond of jaguar hunting, he only slightly wounded an animal with his lance, and the jaguar, closing with him, knocked him down with his paw. Keeping his presence of mind, however, he drew his long knife with one hand, while he seized the throat of the jaguar with the other. A desperate struggle ensued, and he received several severe wounds from the claws and teeth of the creature. As he rolled over and over he made good use of his knife, stabbing his antagonist until the jaguar sank down dead from loss of blood. He managed to crawl home, and recovered. He declared that as soon as he was well again he went out hunting, and killed a couple of jaguars, in revenge for the injuries he had received.
On another occasion, while out hunting, he fell asleep on a bank, exhausted by fatigue. Suddenly he was awakened by a tremendous blow on the side of the head. His natural impulse was to start up and shout lustily, when he saw a huge jaguar standing close to him, about to repeat the salute. His cries were heard by his companions, who were at a short distance, and they hastened to his assistance. The jaguar, however, was probably not very hungry, for before he could use his manchette, or his friends come up, the creature bounded off, leaving the hunter with the top of his ear torn away, and an ugly scratch on his head. Still the old Indian was of opinion that the jaguar seldom attacks human beings unless first molested by them.
We encountered and killed another animal, much in the same way as the first; and having secured their skins, we returned to the farm, and afterwards set off on our way home. As we emerged from the forest we saw that clouds of inky blackness were collecting rapidly overhead, and spreading across the whole valley.
“We must push forward, for we are about to have a storm, and no slight one,” observed Uncle Richard. “Fast as we may go, however, we shall not escape the whole of it.”
Scarcely had he spoken when a flash of the most vivid lightning darted from the sky, wriggling along the ground like a huge snake.
“It’s well that we are in the open country; but even here we may be overtaken by one of those flashes—though Heaven grant that they may pass us by,” said Uncle Richard.
The flashes were succeeded by the most tremendous roars of thunder, as if the whole artillery of heaven were being discharged at once. The animals we rode stopped and trembled, and when urged by the spur dashed forward as if running a race for their lives; indeed, it was no easy matter to sit them, as they sprang now on one side, now on the other. In a short time the rain came down in torrents, every drop, as the dominie declared, “as big as a hen’s egg.” As a natural consequence, in a few seconds we were wet to the skin, though that mattered but little.
While we were passing a lofty and magnificent tree, about fifty yards off, a flash darted from the sky, and a fearful crash was heard. The next instant the tree was gone, shivered to the very roots, while the fragments of its branches and trunk strewed the ground around. No shelter was at hand; indeed, unless to escape the rain, it would have been useless, for the strongest building would not have secured us from the effects of such a flash. Our great object was to keep away from any trees which might attract the lightning.
The storm was still raging when we arrived at home, where we found Dona Maria and Rosa in no small alarm about us,—thinking more of our safety than their own. They had closed all the windows and doors—as they said, to keep the lightning out; although in reality it only prevented them from seeing the bright flashes. The trembling mules were sent round to the stables; while Uncle Richard produced various articles from his wardrobe with which to clothe us.
The ladies laughed heartily as we made our appearance at the supper-table. Hugh was dressed with one of Rosa’s petticoats over his shoulders, which she declared gave him a very Oriental look. The dominie had on a flowered dressing-gown of Uncle Richard’s, with a pair of loose drawers, and a sash round his waist. Juan wore a red shirt, a sky-blue dress coat, and a pair of shooting breeches; while I was rigged out in an entire suit belonging to our host, a world too wide, and much too short.
The storm had by this time ceased, though the thunder, as it rolled away down the valley, was occasionally heard.
The ladies were amused by the account of our adventures, especially on hearing of the alarm of Mr Laffan at the unexpected appearance of the tiger-cat Uncle Richard having proposed music, Dona Maria and Rosa got their guitars and sang very sweetly.
“Now let us have a dance,” cried our host, jumping up; “old Pépé plays the fiddle, and we have another fellow who is an adept with the pipes.”
The persons named were sent for. The first was a grey-headed old man, half Spaniard, half Indian; the latter a young man, a pure-blooded Indian. The merry strains they struck up inspired us all; even the dominie rose and began to snap his fingers and kick his heels. Don Ricardo setting the example, we were soon all engaged in an uproarious country dance; while every now and then we burst into laughter, as we looked at each other, and criticised our costumes.
Pretty well tired out, we soon turned into our hammocks, Uncle Richard having proposed another excursion on the following day.
On getting up in the morning, we found all the females of the family already on foot, busily engaged in various household duties. Dona Maria, habited in a somewhat dégagé costume, was superintending the baking of Indian corn bread, which was done in the most primitive fashion. Some of the girls were pounding the grain in huge mortars with pestles, which it required a strong pair of arms to use; others were kneading large masses of the flour in pans, which were then formed into flat cakes, and placed on a copper “girdle” with a charcoal fire beneath, where they were quickly baked. They gave us some of the cakes to stay our appetites, just hot from the “girdle,” and most delicious they were.
Having taken a turn round the fields, where the labourers were assembling to commence work, we returned to an early breakfast. As Mr Laffan had seen but little of the country, Uncle Richard proposed that we should visit some interesting places in the neighbourhood. Juan excused himself; he very naturally wished to pay his respects to Dona Dolores, and soon afterwards rode off.
“He is desperately in love, there’s no doubt about that,” remarked Dona Maria. “Dolores will make much of him, for she is equally attached to him, though she will not acknowledge it. She is a fine spirited girl—a devoted Patriot. She converted her father, who was rather disposed to side with the Godos for the sake of a quiet life; but she roused him up, and he is now as warm in the cause of liberty as she is.”
“Are you not a Patriot, Aunt Maria?” I asked.
“I side with my husband, and he is an Englishman.”
“But Englishmen love liberty and hate tyranny, if they are worthy of the name of Britons,” I answered; “and I hope we shall all be ready, when the time comes, to fight for freedom.”
“But we may lose our property and our lives, if the Spaniards prevail,” she remarked.
“They must not prevail; we must conquer!” exclaimed Uncle Richard, who just then came in.
“Has Dona Dolores won you over?” asked Dona Maria of her husband.
“She is a noble creature, and sees things in their true light,” answered Uncle Richard. “While the Spaniards have the upper hand, through keeping the people in subjection by their soldiers, and their minds in darkness and superstition through the teaching of the priests, our country can never flourish. All progress is stopped. Our agriculture is stunted, our commerce crippled, and no manufactures can exist.”
“That’s just what Dona Dolores says,” observed Aunt Maria.
“And she says the truth,” answered Uncle Richard. “I for one am resolved to aid the Patriot cause; and you, my dear wife, will acknowledge that I am acting rightly. You cannot wish to see our children slaves; and what else can they be, if, for fear of the consequences, we tamely submit to the yoke of Spain?”
I remembered this conversation in after-days, when Uncle Richard showed how fully he kept up to the principles he professed, and Dona Maria proved herself to be a true and faithful wife.
After Uncle Richard had transacted some business, we set off on our expedition, mounted on mules, for the road we had to traverse was rough and uneven in the extreme. We had several small rivers to cross, which, in consequence of the storm of the preceding day, had become torrents, and almost carried our mules off their legs. The beds of the streams, too, were full of large stones, which had fallen down from the mountains. In these torrents swimming is of no avail, as the water rushes on with irresistible force, carrying everything before it. Sometimes in the descent of the hills the mules sat on their haunches, gliding down with their fore-feet stretched out in the most scientific fashion.
At length, sliding down a steep descent, we arrived at the hot spring, which issues from an aperture about three feet in diameter, at the bottom of the valley—the water bubbling up very much like that in a boiling pot. Around the brink of the aperture is an incrustation of brimstone, of a light colour, from which we broke off several pieces and carried them away. The dominie put in his finger to test the heat of the water, but drew it out again pretty quickly.
“You will not find me doing that a second time!” he exclaimed, as he put his scalded finger into his mouth to cool it.
We had brought some eggs, which were boiled hard in little more than three minutes.
Mr Laffan having carried away some of the water, afterwards analysed it, and found it to be composed of sulphur and salt. On being exposed to the sun, the sulphur evaporated, and left pure white salt fit for use.
After leaving the spring, we continued some way further towards the Rio Vinaigre, or Vinegar River. On our road we passed several Indian huts perched on the summits of precipices which appeared perfectly inaccessible; but, of course, there were narrow paths by which the inhabitants could climb up to their abodes. They naturally delight in these gloomy and solitary situations, and had sufficient reasons for selecting them: for they were here free from the attacks of wild beasts or serpents, and also from their cruel masters the Spaniards, who were accustomed to drag them away to work in the mines, to build fortifications, or to serve in the ranks of their armies.
Dismounting, we climbed up a zig-zag path, to pay a visit to one of these Indian abodes which was less difficult to reach than the rest, although a couple of well-armed men, supplied with a store of rocks, could from the summit have kept a whole army at bay. The hut was the abode of an old Indian, the descendant of the chief of a once powerful tribe. We found him leaning against the sunny side of his house, and holding on to a long staff with which he supported himself. He was dressed in a large broad-brimmed hat, a poncho over his shoulders, and sandals on his feet. His projecting, dropping lower jaw exhibited the few decayed teeth he had in his head, which, with his lustreless eyes, made him look the very picture of decrepitude. He brightened up and rose, however, as he saw Uncle Richard,—with whom he was acquainted, and who had frequently shown him kindness,—and welcomed us to his abode.
The thatched hut was diminutive, and full of smoke, as there was but one small hole in the roof by which it could escape. Some distance behind it, and separated by a wide chasm, over which a bamboo bridge had been thrown, was a wide level space, with mountains rising above it, on which sheep and goats were feeding—the fields fenced round by a shrub called el lechero, or milk-tree, which derives its name from a white liquid oozing out of it when a branch is broken off. This liquid, however, is sharp and caustic. The sticks, about six feet in height, throw out young shoots like the osier, and when pruned become very thick, and form an excellent fence. Within the enclosure were growing patches of wheat, potatoes, and Indian corn, as also the yuca root, from the flour of which palatable cakes are formed. This mountain plantation was cultivated, the old man told us, by the faithful followers of his tribe. He had no children; he was the last of his race.
Uncle Richard had an object in paying the visit. The old Indian had considerable influence over the inhabitants of the surrounding hills, and he wished to stir them up, when the time should come, to join the Patriot ranks.
“I am too old myself to strike a blow for liberty,” said the old man; “but often, as I gaze over yonder wide valley, and remember that once it belonged to my ancestors, that by the cruelty and oppression of the Godos my people are now reduced to a handful, and that the sufferings and death of thousands of my people rest on the heads of our oppressors, my heart swells with indignation. Si, Señor Ricardo, si. You may depend on me that I will use all the influence I possess to arouse my people, but I fear that we shall be able to send scarce fifty warriors into the field—many of them mere youths, although they have the hearts of men.”
After some further conversation, Uncle Richard left a present with the old cacique, and we bade him farewell.
On reaching the foot of the cliff we met several Indians, who, having observed us from neighbouring heights, had come down to ascertain the object of our visit. Uncle Richard spoke to them, although not so openly as he had done to the chief. The men had a peculiarly serious cast of countenance; not one of them smiled while with us, but they appeared good-tempered, and were perfectly civil. Their eyes were large, fine, and full of expression; and two or three girls who were of the party were decidedly good-looking, which is more than can be said of Indian maidens in general. Each man was accompanied by a dog, of which he seemed very fond. Round their huts we saw abundance of fruit, and several fat pigs, so that they were evidently well off for provisions.
It is wonderful how long these Indians will go without food by chewing coca leaf, which is far more sustaining and refreshing than tobacco.
“Those men would make sturdy soldiers, and fight bravely,” observed Uncle Richard, as we rode away.
Our destination was a small valley, through which the Rio Vinaigre makes its way towards the Cauca. We left our animals at the top of the hill, as the descent was so steep and slippery that it would have been impossible to ride down it. As it was, we could scarcely keep our legs, and the dominie more than once nearly fell head over heels.
Uncle Richard, by-the-by, had not told our worthy friend the character of the river-water. He had brought a cup, formed from a gourd, which answered the purpose of a “quaich,” as it is called in Scotland; and we made our way down to the edge of the stream, where he could dip out a cupful. The water appeared bright and sparkling, and the dominie, who was thirsty after his walk, put it to his lips and took a huge gulp. Directly afterwards he spat it out, with a ridiculous grimace, exclaiming—
“Rotten lemons, iron filings, and saltpetre, by all that is abominable! Ah, faith! there must have been poison in the cup.”
“Wash it out and try again,” said Uncle Richard; “although, I tell you, I believe the cup is perfectly clean.”
The dominie made a second attempt, with the same result.
“You find it taste somewhat like vinegar?” asked Uncle Richard.
“Indeed I do,” answered Mr Laffan. “Is it always like this?”
“Yes,” said Uncle Richard; “it comes in its present state out of the mountain, and you were not far from the truth in your description, as when analysed it is found to be acidulated, nitrous, and ferruginous. So completely does it retain these qualities, that in the Cauca, several leagues below where it falls into that river, not a fish is to be found, as the finny tribe appear to have as great a dislike to it as yourself.”
The dominie, to satisfy himself, carried away half a bottle, for the purpose of analysing it on his return home.
Proceeding up the valley, we visited, in succession, three waterfalls, one of which came down over a perpendicular cliff, with a descent of a couple of hundred feet. We then bent our steps homewards, stopping by the way to dine and rest our animals at a farm belonging to Uncle Richard, and which it was one of the objects of our excursion to visit. The building was entirely of wood, with wide projecting eaves, supported by posts united by a railing, which gave it a very picturesque appearance. Around the house was an enclosure for the poultry, of which there was a great profusion. Indeed, it would have been difficult for a hen-wife to know her hens. Outside this was another enclosure for cattle and horses. In a smaller paddock were several llamas, which are not indigenous to this part of the country. They had been brought from Upper Peru, where they are used as beasts of burden, and were here occasionally so employed. It was a pretty rural scene.
“It’s lovely, it’s lovely! In truth, it reminds me of Old Ireland, barring the palm-trees, and the cacti, and the chirramoyas, and the Indian corn, and those llama beasts,” exclaimed Mr Laffan. Then looking at the Indian women who were tending the poultry, he added, “And those olive damsels. Ah, young gentlemen, you should see my own fair countrywomen, and you would acknowledge that through the world you couldn’t meet any beings so lovely under the blue vault of heaven—whatever there may be above it in the form of angels; and they are as modest as they are good.”
Mr Laffan continued to expatiate on the perfections of green Erin’s Isle, its mountains, lakes, and rivers, a theme in which he delighted, until his eyes glistened, and his voice choked with emotion, as he thought of the country he might never again see.
Uncle Richard having inspected the farm, and examined some of the horses, we mounted our animals and proceeded homewards. We were approaching the house, when we caught sight of Paul Lobo galloping towards us from the direction of Popayan.
“What is the matter?” exclaimed Uncle Richard, observing his excited manner.
“El señor doctor want to see you, Massa Duncan, in quarter less no time. Says he, You Paul Lobo, get on horseback and bring him here.”
The horse stood panting for breath, its nostrils covered with foam, showing at what a rate he must have ridden.
“Why does he want to see me?” I asked anxiously. “Is he ill, or my mother or Flora?”
“No, no! dey all berry well; but el señor doctor got news from Cauca, and berry bad news too. De Spaniards enter dere, and cut de t’roats ob all de men ’cept what ride or run away, and de women as bad, and dey come on quick march to Popayan; do de same t’ing dere, no doubt.”
“That is indeed bad news,” I said. “We will get our horses and return home to-night; they are fortunately fresh. You must change horses, Paul, and go with us, after you have had some food.”
“We must endeavour to oppose them, if it can be done with any chance of success,” exclaimed Uncle Richard, who had just then come up. “I will accompany you, Duncan, and ascertain what your father advises. We will let Señor Monteverde and Dona Dolores know, in case they may not have received the information.”
We immediately entered the house, and Uncle Richard sent off a messenger to the Monteverdes, where he supposed Juan would be found.
While we had dinner, and prepared for our ride, Paul took some food, and was again ready to start when the horses were brought round.
Dona Maria was much agitated on hearing the news. “Do nothing rash, my dear Richard,” she said to her husband. “It is impossible to withstand the Godos.”
“Nothing is impossible to brave men fighting in a just cause,” answered Uncle Richard.
Embracing his wife and Rosa, to whom we had already bidden farewell, he joined us in the courtyard, where we sat our horses ready to start. We had a long ride before us in the dark, the road being none of the best, but our steeds were sure-footed, and we were well accustomed to them.
We had got to some distance, when we heard the tramp of horses coming along a road which led from the Monteverdes’ house, and Dona Dolores, with her father and four domestics, all armed, came up. She sat her steed, as far as I could judge in the fast gathering gloom, like a person who had thorough command over it. She rode up to me, as if desirous of speaking; and I took the opportunity to inquire for my friend Juan, observing that he had not returned to Don Ricardo’s.
“He has gone home to commence the career which, I trust, he will from henceforth follow,” she replied. “He will endeavour to raise and arm the men on his property, as well as others from the surrounding villages. We were already aware that the Spaniards were advancing up the valley, and had been engaged in sending information in all directions to arouse the Patriots, and to counsel them to take up arms in defence of their homes and families. We may count on you, Señor Duncan? Young as you are, you may render essential service to our glorious cause, though your arm may not yet be strong enough to wield a sword.”
“I believe I could make very good use of one, if necessary,” I answered, somewhat piqued by her remark. “Juan would tell you that I can hold my own, even against him.”
“I am glad to hear it,” she observed.
“We must not count the cost, dear as that may be,” I said; “but I shall be ready to yield up my life, and everything I possess, could I be sure that victory would be gained by the sacrifice.”
“We may count on you, then, as a Patriot?”
“Yes, most certainly, as you can on Don Ricardo.”
“And upon your tall tutor? I don’t know his name.”
I told her his name, and she immediately rode up alongside Mr Laffan. We were ascending a hill too steep to gallop up, which enabled us to hold this conversation. What the patriotic young lady said to the dominie I did not at the time know, but, whatever his previous sentiments were, her enthusiastic eloquence soon won him to the cause she had espoused.
On reaching the level ground, we galloped forward as hard as our horses could go, led by Uncle Richard. Our worthy tutor kept by the side of Hugh, about whom he seemed to have no little anxiety; but my young brother sat his horse as well as any of us, and assured Mr Laffan that he need not be troubled about him. Dona Dolores, with her father, followed close behind Uncle Richard, and whenever we were obliged to pull up she spoke with her usual earnestness to one or other of the party, as if eager to make the best use of the time in impressing her ideas on others. She did not disdain to speak even to Paul Lobo.
“I do what massa el señor doctor does,” was the reply.
She found, at last, that she could make nothing of Paul—who was, however, as great a lover of liberty as any of us.
Crossing the bridge, we at length entered the city, where the streets were even more quiet than usual. We scarcely met a single person as we rode up to our house. It was perhaps as well that we did not, for the appearance of so large a party might have roused the suspicions of some of the Spanish authorities.
My father came in from visiting a patient at the moment we arrived. Dona Dolores and Señor Monteverde had, I should have said, parted from us, and gone to the house of a friend. My father seemed somewhat surprised at seeing Uncle Richard with us, but said he was very glad that he had come. We found supper on the table waiting us; and as soon as the servants had withdrawn, my father addressed me, and told us the particulars of the news he had received.
“This city will not be a safe place for women and children, or any one else, in a short time,” he observed. “Those who have duties to perform must remain at their posts. I have numerous patients whom I ought not to and will not desert. I therefore sent for you, Duncan, to take charge of your mother and sister, and to escort them to your Uncle Richard’s, where you can watch over their safety. I know that I can rely on Mr Laffan to assist you.”
“Indeed, sir, you may,” he replied; “while I have an arm to strike a blow, I will fight for the ladies.”
“I hope that while they are in my house they will run no risk, removed as it is from the city,” said Uncle Richard; “and if you will entrust them to my keeping, I will take care of them, along with my wife and daughter. Duncan and Mr Laffan may be of use here.”
Uncle Richard then began to tell my father the plans which had been formed for preventing the Spaniards from entering the city.
My father stopped him. “I desire not to be acquainted with anything that is going forward. It is my duty to endeavour to heal the sick and wounded, in the character of a physician and a non-combatant. I may remain unmolested, and be able to serve the cause of humanity. As for Duncan and Mr Laffan, I will reconsider my intentions. I will, however, accept your offer as regards my wife and Flora, and place them under your care.”
It was finally arranged that my mother and sister, with their female attendants, and Hugh, should set off the next morning, escorted by Uncle Richard; and that Mr Laffan and I should remain until, in the course of events, it might be decided what was best to be done.
Chapter Four.
My mother and sister leave Popayan with Uncle Richard—Mr Laffan and I accompany them—Lion given to me—Meet Juan and his troop—Hear an inspiriting address from Dona Dolores—A political ball at Don Carlos Mosquera’s—Dona Dolores warns me against Captain Lopez—She enlists numerous recruits—The dominie shows that he has had military experience—Drilling the levies—The citizens employed in erecting fortifications—The enemy approach—Preparations for the defence—The summons to arms—The city attacked—Mr Laffan and I join Don Juan—The enemy driven back—A sortie—The enemy attacked—Guns captured—Return in triumph to the city.
During the night information was received that the Spaniards, two days before, had entered Bouga, on the Cauca, leaving us in no doubt that they were advancing up the valley, and might be expected in our neighbourhood in the course of three or four days—perhaps even their cavalry might appear sooner, as they probably, thinking there was no force to oppose them, would push on ahead of the main body. My father therefore kept to his resolution of sending off my mother and sister; and the next morning at daylight, after a hurried breakfast, the horses and mules were brought round to the courtyard, ready to start. My mother and sister, and the female attendants, rode the mules; the rest of the party were mounted on horseback. It was settled that Mr Laffan and I should accompany them to Egido, as we could without difficulty be back before nightfall.
Our uncle, Dr Cazalla, came to see our mother off.
“I wish that you would accompany us, my dear brother,” she said. “If the Spaniards take the place, you are certain to be annoyed and persecuted, even should no worse consequences follow.”
“No, no; I must stay at my post, as your husband intends doing. We must set a good example. If the principal people run away, what may be expected of others?”
My mother’s entreaties were of no avail, so Uncle Richard, finding that all was ready, gave the word to move on.
We proceeded as fast as the mules could travel, and by noon arrived at Uncle Richard’s hacienda, where Aunt Maria and Rosa gave my mother a warm reception.
“We shall here, I trust, be safe from the Spaniards; but if we hear of their coming, we must take to the mountains, where even they will be unable to find us,” said Dona Maria.
“But what will become of the house and estate?” asked my mother.
“We must leave that matter in God’s hands,” answered Dona Maria. “If the fruit trees are cut down, and the corn destroyed, he can restore them. The Godos cannot prevent that.”
As soon as our horses had baited, the dominie and I prepared to start on our return. I embraced my mother and sister affectionately, and bade farewell to dear little Rosa and Aunt Maria. We knew not what might occur before we should meet again. I had, while staying at the house, admired a fine dog called Lion, which had grown from a puppy into a noble animal since I first saw him. The creature had taken a great fancy to me, too, and this had been observed by Uncle Richard.
“I make you a present of him, Duncan,” said Uncle Richard; “he will prove faithful, I am sure, and may possibly be of service.”
Lion was a species of hound, with a thick tawny coat and large paws, possessing prodigious strength. He was good-tempered and obedient, but at the same time it was very evident that he could fight desperately with those powerful jaws of his. Patting his head, I told him that he was to accompany us, and he seemed fully to understand me. The dominie was already mounted. Lion looked at Uncle Richard when he saw me getting on horseback, as if to ask if he was to go. Uncle Richard nodded, and pointed to me. So Lion set off, keeping close to my heels all the way, clearly understanding that I was in future to be his master.
Mr Laffan was as eager to get back to the town as I was, in order to hear the news. We were still about half a league from Popayan, when we saw, in an open space near a wood, a considerable body of men, some on horseback, others on foot, with flags fluttering above their heads. As we approached, one of them rode out to meet us, in whom I recognised Don Juan, though much changed in appearance. Instead of his civil garb he was dressed in military fashion, with a long lance in his hand, a carbine at his back, and pistols in his holsters.
“I have not been idle, you see, Duncan,” he observed, after we had greeted each other. “I have raised fifty fine fellows, and hope to have a hundred more mounted and armed in a day or two. If every gentleman will do the same, we shall soon collect a Patriot force sufficient to drive back the Spaniards.”
We rode forward with him to see his troop. The larger number were mounted, but there were some infantry armed with long guns—tall, sinewy fellows, dressed in broad-brimmed hats, loose trousers, and coats fastened by pouch belts round their waists. The horsemen also wore large sombreros, leggings and huge spurs, and tight-fitting jackets; and they were armed with spears and swords of various lengths. Some had pistols, others carbines, but the lance was the principal weapon.
We rode together into the town,—the infantry, who wore only sandals on their feet, keeping up with the horses. We were passing down one of the streets on our way to a convent which the authorities had turned into barracks, when a lady appeared at a balcony. Juan reined in his steed, and ordered his men to halt. I recognised Dona Dolores. My friend bowed low, with a look of pride on his countenance. Dona Dolores smiled, and addressed a few encouraging words to the men, reminding them of the cruelties which had often been inflicted by the hated Godos, urging them to fight bravely, and not to sheathe their swords until they had driven their foes into the sea. The men cheered, and Dona Dolores saying she would no longer delay them, we rode on.
The dominie and I parted from Juan at the next turning, and soon reached home. Finding that my father was just setting out to attend a large party given at the house of Don Carlos Mosquera, one of the principal inhabitants of the place, Mr Laffan and I hurriedly dressed and accompanied him. Though ostensibly a ball, the real object was to bring persons of Liberal principles together, of both sexes. As many of the upper classes took a warm interest in the cause of freedom, nearly all the ladies of the influential families were there, with their husbands and fathers. I was surprised, also, to see several parish priests, who were as warm in the cause as any other person. Indeed, one of these padres had donned a semi-military costume, and announced his intention of aiding his countrymen with his sword. Those who knew him best said that he could fight as well as he could preach.
I soon met Dona Dolores and her father. She smiled, and beckoned me to her.
“I was glad to see you just now with Don Juan, and I hope that you will obtain your father’s leave to join his corps,” she said.
I replied that I would gladly do so, but that at present my father wished me to remain with him at Popayan.
While we were speaking Don Juan joined us, when Dona Dolores complimented him on his zeal and activity in so soon getting together a body of men.
“We have got the men, the arms, and the horses, but we all require what cannot so readily be obtained—the necessary discipline,” he answered. “I myself require to learn the duties of an officer, for, except that I can use a sword and lance, I know little of military affairs.”
“You will soon learn, Juan,” said Dona Dolores in encouraging tones; “you must obtain an expert instructor, and your own natural talents will point out to you how to act on most occasions.”
Just then a military officer approached and bowed to Dona Dolores. I saw an expression of scorn pass over her countenance, unobserved by Juan, who, saluting the officer, addressed him as Captain Lopez.
“The very man I want,” observed my friend. “I have just raised a body of men, who require to be disciplined. You have had experience; you must join me, if you do not already belong to a regiment.”
I did not hear the answer given by Captain Lopez, but Dona Dolores, turning to me, said, “He is not to be trusted; a mean-spirited fellow, though a great boaster. You must tell Juan not to accept his services.”
This Captain Lopez was, I afterwards found, a rejected suitor for the hand of Dona Dolores. With her clear perception, she had discovered that he did not possess the qualities she could admire.
Juan and Captain Lopez had gone to some distance, and were engaged in eager conversation. During this time several persons had come up and asked Dona Dolores to dance; but she declined, saying that she was in no mood for such an amusement. She contrived, however, to keep most of them by her side for some time, while she urged on them the duty of joining the Patriot cause. I left her surrounded by a number of gentlemen, and went to look after Juan, to whom I wished to repeat the remarks I had heard from Dona Dolores. I found him at length in an alcove, still talking with Captain Lopez. The captain’s countenance, as I watched him at a little distance, impressed me very unfavourably. There was a scowl on his brow, and a peculiar wrinkle about his lips, which made me feel that I for one would not trust him; and I hoped that my friend would not be induced to do so either.
I waited until the captain quitted Juan, to whom I then went up, and told him what Dona Dolores had said.
“She is too probably right, for she has wonderful perception of character; but, unfortunately, I have engaged Captain Lopez to come and drill my men, and I cannot now well put him off without his considering himself insulted. However, I will remember the warning I have received, and not trust him too much. I intend to bear the whole expense of the corps myself, and am anxious to get some smart young officers. I wish that you would join us, Duncan. You would soon learn your duties; they come almost by instinct to some people.”
“If I can get my father’s leave, depend upon it I will,” I answered; “and as Mr Laffan has seen some service, I have no doubt that he will assist you. Perhaps he himself will join. I suspect that he would be as well able to drill your corps as Captain Lopez.”
Several gentlemen present had been engaged in raising men; and, I was told, there were already upwards of two thousand troops in town, though few of them were sufficiently disciplined to meet the enemy. Other Patriot leaders were scouring the country round to obtain recruits, and these, in small parties, were coming in during the night.
In spite of the serious aspect of affairs, the people at this ball danced as much as ever. The card-tables were also filled, but the players stopped very frequently, forgetting the game to discuss matters of importance. I understood that there were men on the watch at the doors, to give notice should any foes to the Liberal party make their appearance.
“I found, on our return home, that my father was pretty well satisfied with the enthusiasm exhibited by the people generally.
“Bloodshed I fear there must be, for the Spaniards fancy that they can overthrow liberty with a few blows, and are determined to stamp it out; but they are mistaken,” he observed.
From dawn the next morning, till nightfall, the new levies were undergoing drill in the great square. I saw Juan at the head of his men, and Captain Lopez drilling them.
“Don’t you think you can give my friend Juan a helping hand?” I said to Mr Laffan, who had accompanied me.
“Faith, it’s not impossible!” he exclaimed, his eye brightening. “If he asks me, I’ll try to brush up my knowledge of such matters.”
I told Juan what the dominie had said, when he at once came forward and begged that he would take charge of a part of his men.
“Is it the cavalry or the infantry?” asked Mr Laffan.
“The cavalry are the most important,” answered Juan. “Here is a spare horse at your service.”
Mr Laffan at once leapt into the saddle, and going to the head of the men, formed them into line. To my surprise, he gave the proper orders in Spanish without hesitation, and soon showed that he had had no little experience as a cavalry officer. He kept the men at work for three hours without cessation, after which they were dismissed for breakfast. Captain Lopez cast a scowl at us as he passed on his way to his quarters, without deigning to compliment Mr Laffan on his proficiency. Juan accompanied us home to breakfast, and afterwards we returned to the square, when, to my surprise, the dominie took the infantry in hand, and drilled them for four hours in a still more thorough way even than he had done the cavalry.
“If we had but a few British sergeants and corporals, we should make something of these fellows in a few weeks,” he observed. “I would be mightily obliged to the enemy if they would but wait till then; we should by that time be able to give a good account of them.”
Don Juan, as might have been expected, begged Mr Laffan to join his corps, offering him the command of either of the companies.
“I am engaged to the doctor, and cannot quit his service unless he dismisses me,” he answered; “but, while I have the opportunity, I will gladly drill your men for as many hours as they can stand on their legs. Some years have passed since I have done any soldiering, and it makes me feel young again to be so engaged.”
While the levies were drilling, the townspeople—including old men, women, and children—were employed, under the few officers who had any knowledge of engineering, in throwing up batteries and forming entrenchments round the town. In some cases the walls were strengthened by the aid of a machine, consisting of a large square bottomless box, into which the mud was thrown, and then beaten down hard. A number of these boxes were used at a time, and it was extraordinary with what rapidity a strong wall could thus be erected. The mud was brought in carts, in baskets, and in various other ways, and thrown into the box. Additional strength was gained by forming a slope on the outer side. A number of guns buried on a former occasion by the Patriots, to conceal them from the Spaniards, were also dug up, and mounted. Night and day the people worked, for every hour gained added to the strength of the place, and increased the prospect of successfully resisting the enemy.
There were several known Royalists in Popayan, who had hitherto remained quiet; and many of them, on seeing the preparations made for the defence, hurriedly left the town. Many Liberals also sent off their families, to avoid the risk to which they would be exposed. Among the Royalists I met the Bishop of Popayan, Don Salvador Ximenes, mounted on a splendid horse, and attended by his secretary and several ecclesiastics—who, but for their hats, I should have taken for military officers, for they were all armed to the teeth, and had a decidedly martial aspect. My father knew the bishop well, while I had often seen him. Though a somewhat small man, he was remarkably well-made, and had a good-natured, open countenance, with sparkling grey eyes. His secretary was a tall, good-looking fellow, with a broad pair of shoulders, but bearded like a pard, and looking little like a priest; indeed, he had formerly been a captain of dragoons in Spain, until he followed the bishop out to South America. Don Salvador had been canon of the cathedral at Malaga when Buonaparte invaded Spain. On that occasion, throwing off his ecclesiastical garb, he had assumed the rank of a colonel, and by his preachings and exhortations he had aroused the Spanish peasantry to resist the French. On the restoration of Ferdinand the Seventh to the crown of Spain, the ci-devant colonel was created Bishop of Popayan, then in possession of the Spaniards, where he had made himself very popular among all ranks, notwithstanding his political opinions.
On meeting the martial-looking bishop and his companions, I felt sure that his departure foreboded no good to the Patriot cause. I bowed to him as I passed, and he gave me a nod of recognition, although he was well aware that I was not a member of his flock.
I at once rode on to Don Carlos Mosquera’s house, to inform him of the departure of the bishop, should he not be acquainted with it.
“Let him go,” he answered. “He will do more harm to liberty inside the town than he will do without; and we cannot imprison him. If he comes as an enemy, a bullet may put a stop to his intrigues.”
I frequently met Dona Dolores on the parade-ground, riding a handsome horse, and attended by her father, Juan, and others. She on several occasions addressed the men, especially the new recruits, and urged them to be faithful to the noble cause in which they were engaged. She also occupied herself in writing to Patriots in various parts of the country, or to persons whom she hoped to win over.
While the citizens were working away in the town, scouts were sent out, that we might have early notice of the approach of the enemy. Several days elapsed, however, without any news of their approach, and this afforded time for fortifying the city and increasing the number of its defenders. So confident did the Patriots at length become, that it was proposed to march out and encounter the enemy in the open country; but wiser counsels prevailed. Our men were ill-disciplined, and we had no field-artillery.
Upwards of a week had passed, when the scouts brought in the information that the Spaniards were advancing. Still two or three days must elapse before they could reach Popayan. The interval was spent in strengthening the fortifications, and otherwise preparing for the defence of the city. Provisions were brought in, and gunpowder and shot manufactured, while the drilling of the men went on as energetically as at first. White men, Indians, and blacks, all seemed to take a real pleasure in their duties. The army was certainly a motley one, both in costume and colour, composed as it was of men of every shade from white to black—the dark, however, predominating; several of the officers were black, and others had Indian blood in their veins, if they were not pure Indians. Where all fight for liberty, however, the only qualifications required for command are talent and courage. Not a few even of the highest rank could neither read nor write.
My father, I may here say, had half consented that I should join Don Juan’s troop, and had given leave to Mr Laffan to act as he felt inclined.
The enemy had now got within three leagues of the city. Some deserters who came in—or rather, I should say, some Liberals who had made their escape from the Royalist ranks—informed us that they were not at all prepared for the resistance they would meet with, as they were not aware that the city was so strongly fortified and garrisoned.
Each night we went to bed expecting that the next day might be that of battle; but I was one morning awakened by hearing all the bells in the city ringing. I jumped up, and going to Mr Laffan’s room, found him dressed, and in the act of buckling on his sword—afterwards sticking a brace of pistols in his belt.
“I intend to join Don Juan,” he said; “if I fall, Duncan, you will not forget the instruction I have given you. Good-bye, my boy; do you stay quietly at home.”
“Not if I can help it,” I answered. “Wait but five minutes. My father will not refuse me permission to assist in defending the walls.”
I was quickly ready, and came downstairs to find my father.
“You cannot let me play a girl’s part and stay at home!” I exclaimed. “Do let me go.”
“I am afraid I should not be right in hindering you. May Heaven protect you!” answered my father.
“Thank you, thank you,” I replied, as if the greatest possible favour had been granted me; and I set off with Mr Laffan.
Mounting our horses, we rode to the lines, near which we found Juan’s troops.
“I hope we shall have an opportunity of making a sortie,” exclaimed the dominie; “we will put the Spaniards to the right-about if we get the chance of taking them in flank.”
While our servants held the horses, we went into the nearest battery, from whence we could see the Spaniards advancing to the attack. By the way in which they came on, it was clear that they expected to enter an unwalled town; and our batteries were so concealed that the enemy did not discover their existence until close up to them, when we opened upon them with every gun at once. Their artillery replied, but their shot struck our embankments; while ours flew into the midst of their ranks, creating confusion and dismay. Their infantry, however, advanced, firing rapidly, and several of the defenders were hit; but this only increased the ardour of the rest. The whole south side of the city was a blaze of fire, both parties rapidly exchanging shots. The enemy, however, soon saw that this general style of assault would not succeed, and concentrated their efforts on the batteries defending the chief entrance; but again and again were they driven back.
I had gone with Mr Laffan towards the eastern side, when, by means of our glasses, we saw a large body of men, accompanied by artillery and cavalry, making their way round, intending apparently to attack the city on the other side. On my conveying the information to our general, Don Juan offered to lead out his men, and proceed by some by-paths through a wood, so as to fall suddenly on the flank of the force—hoping to capture the guns and put the enemy to flight. This offer was accepted.
“You will accompany me?” said Juan to the dominie and me.
“With all the pleasure in the world,” was the answer; and in another moment we were riding out to the southward of the city—the part Juan had selected for the ambush. We were followed by a body of infantry, who were to support us, for without them we could not secure the fruits of our hoped-for victory.
The dominie was in the highest spirits, and could scarcely restrain himself from shouting out in his glee. Every now and then he gave a flourish with his sword, as if well acquainted with its use.
On we dashed, over all impediments—our light-footed infantry not far behind. We had just time to reach the wood where we were to remain concealed, and to give our horses breathing time, when we heard the approach of the Spaniards. We waited in perfect silence until their cavalry had passed, when, Juan giving the signal, we dashed out from our cover, taking them completely by surprise. The gunners were cut down, almost before they had time to draw their swords; after which we immediately charged upon the infantry, who, though they received us with an ill-directed fire, were at once thrown into confusion. Meantime the enemy’s cavalry had wheeled about as fast as the narrowness of the road would permit them, and came charging down upon us to attempt to recapture the guns; but our infantry, who had now come up, poured in a hot fire, by which a third of their saddles was emptied. Unable to ascertain our numbers, they must have imagined that they were being attacked by a large force, and a panic seizing them, the survivors galloped off to the south, leaving their guns in our hands, while the infantry, whom we pursued, fled in disorder towards the main body. We followed, sabring all we overtook; when Mr Laffan advised Juan to return, lest an attempt might be made to retake the guns, the most important fruit of our victory. Our foot-soldiers, however, had in the meantime harnessed to them some of the slain troopers’ horses, and when we got back we found they were already half-way to the city. In half an hour we were triumphantly entering it; and dragging the guns up to the batteries, we made use of them against their late owners.
In less than an hour after this the Spaniards were in full retreat. Patriotic shouts rose on all sides, and the bells rang forth joyous peals, while every man congratulated his neighbour on the victory gained.
Don Juan did not fail to receive a reward for his gallantry in the approving smiles of Dona Dolores. It was his first battle, and he had given proof that he was a brave and intelligent leader. Congratulations were offered him on every side, and all predicted that he would ere long become one of the chiefs of the Republic.