Kitabı oku: «Frank in the Woods», sayfa 8

CHAPTER XIV
A Brush with the Greasers

DICK replenished his pipe and prepared to rest, after his tale was completed, when Frank suddenly inquired:

“Dick, how came that scar on your face?”

The “scar” Frank had reference to, was an ugly-looking wen, extending entirely across the trapper’s face, and completely “spilin’ his good looks,” as he sometimes used to remark.

“That war done in a fight with some tarnal Greasers,” answered Dick. “I come mighty nigh havin’ my neck stretched that night, an’ the way it happened war this:”

After a few whiffs at his pipe, he continued:

“When our government war settlin’ our little dispute with the Mexikin Greasers, I, like a good many other trappers, thought that I should like to take a hand in the muss. I hate a Greaser wusser nor I do an Injun. So, arter a little talk, me an’ Bill jined a company o’ Rangers that war raised by an ole trapper we used to call Cap’n Steele. A’most every man in the company war a trapper or hunter, for the cap’n wouldn’t take only them as could show the claws o’ three or four grizzlies they had rubbed out, an’ as many Injun scalps.

“Wal, when we got together, I reckon we war about the roughest lookin’ set o’ men you ever see. Each one dressed as suited him best, an’ all armed with rifles, tomahawks, an’ huntin’-knives. But our looks didn’t seem to set ole Gen’ral Taylor agin us, for when we rode up to his camp, an’ our cap’n had told him what we war, an’ what we could do, he seemed mighty glad to see us; and we war sent to onct to the quarter-master, an’ detailed to take care o’ his cattle an’ hosses, fight guerrillas, an’ carry letters from one place to another. We knowed the country purty well, for there were few of us that hadn’t traveled over it more’n onct in our lives; but whenever we war sent off anywhere we used to have a Mexikin guide, who showed us the short cuts through the mountains.

“Wal, just arter the battle o’ Monterey, our company war cut up into little squads, an’ scattered all over the country; some went with the gen’ral, an’ some war put in Cap’n Morgan’s company, an’ sent scoutin’ around, an’ four of us war left at Monterey with the quarter-master.

“One day ole Bill come to me an’ said:

“‘Dick, the kurnel wants to see you. I guess he’s got some business for you to ’tend to.’

“I went up to the head-quarters, an’ the kurnel told me that he had some very important letters which he wanted to send to Major Davis, who was then stationed at a little town called Alamo, an’ as I had the finest hoss in the town, he thought it best to send me. Alamo war on the other side o’ the mountains, an’ about a hundred an’ fifty miles off. As the kurnel had said, I had the best hoss in the hull camp, an’, in course, it wouldn’t have been no trouble to have gone there if the country had been clear – the ride wasn’t nothin’; but the Mexikins war comin’ down toward Monterey, an’ the kurnel thought that they war goin’ to try to take the city from us agin. I knowed there war danger in it, but I didn’t mind that. I war used to it, an’ if I got into a scrape, it wouldn’t be the first one I war in; so I started off arter my hoss, an’ in a few minits I war ready an’ waitin’ at the kurnel’s door for the letters. Purty soon he come out an’ give ’em to me, sayin’:

“‘Now, Dick, be mighty keerful of ’em, ’cause there’s some news in ’em that I shouldn’t like to have the Mexikins get hold of. This man,’ pintin’ to a Greaser that stood a little behind me, holdin’ his hoss, ‘will be your guide. He knows all about the mountains.’ Then, movin’ up a little closer to me, he whispered: ‘He’ll bear watchin’, I think; I don’t know much about him, but he is the only man I have got to send with you, an’ them letters must be in Major Davis’s hands by to-morrow night.’

“‘All right, kurnel,’ I answered; ‘I’ll look out for him. I never see a Greaser yet that could pull the wool over my eyes. I’ll give the letters to Major Davis afore this time to-morrow. Good by.’ An’ me an’ the guide rid off.

“As soon as I had got out of the city, I turned to have a look at my guide, an’ I thought, as the kurnel had said, that he would bear watchin’. He war the most villainous lookin’ Mexikin I ever sot eyes on. He war a young feller, not more’n twenty-two or twenty-three year old; but he had an eye that looked like an eagle’s, an’ it wasn’t still a minit. He war dressed in a reg’lar Greaser’s rig, with a slouch hat, short jacket, all covered with gold lace, an’ pantaloons, wide at the bottom, an’ open on the side as far as his knees. He had a splendid hoss, an’ war armed with a carbine, short saber, an’ a lasso; an’ I knowed that if me an’ him got into a muss, that lasso would bother me more’n his sword or shootin’-iron. The Greasers, as a gen’ral thing, ain’t no great shakes at shootin’, an’ in a rough-an’-tumble fight they ain’t nowhere; but them ar raw-hide lassoes ar the meanest things in the world to fight; they’ll have one of ’em around your neck afore you know it. I had a little experience in that line afore I got back. Arter we had got outside o’ the pickets a little way, he turned in his saddle, an’ tried to commence a talk with me in Spanish; but I made him believe that I couldn’t understand a word he said. I thought that if I should tell him that I couldn’t talk his lingo, it would make him a little keerless; an’ so it did.

“We rid all day as fast as our hosses could travel, an’ afore dark we got acrost the mountains, an’ stopped afore a little house, where the guide said would be a good place to pass the night. I didn’t much like the idee; had rather camp right down in the woods; but, in course, that would only put him on the look-out, an’ I knowed that the best way to do war to act as though I thought every thing war all right. A man come to the gate as we rid up, an’, as soon as he see my guide, he touched his hat to him in reg’lar soldier style. The guide answered the salute, an’ asked the man, in Spanish:

“‘Are you alone, José?’

“‘Yes, gen’ral,’ answered the man. Then making a slight motion toward me, which, I made believe I didn’t notice, he asked:

“‘But the American?’

“’O, he can’t understand Spanish,’ said my rascally guide. ‘No fear of him; he thinks it’s all right. Did you receive my letter?’

“‘Yes, gen’ral,’ answered the man, touching his hat agin.

“‘Don’t make so many motions, you fool,’ said my guide; ‘the American is not blind. You got my letter all right, you say? Then Bastian, with five hundred men, will be here at midnight?’

“‘Yes, gen’ral.’

“The guide seemed satisfied, for he got off his hoss, an’ motioned me, with a good many smiles an’ grimaces, to do the same. I could see that I war in a purty tight place, an’ I had a good notion to draw one o’ my six-shooters an’ kill both o’ the rascals where they stood. But, thinks I, there may be more of these yere yaller-bellies around here somewhere, an’ besides, if I wait, I may get a chance to capture the gen’ral, for my guide war none other than Gen’ral Cortinas, an’ one o’ the best officers the Mexikins had. He had bothered us more’n their hull army, an’ the kurnel had offered to give a thousand dollars for him alive, or five hundred for his scalp. I didn’t care a snap for the money, ’cause it warn’t no use to me on the prairy; all I wanted war a good Kentucky rifle, plenty o’ powder an’ lead, an’ a good hoss, an’ I war satisfied. But I wanted to capture that gen’ral, an’ take him into camp, for he war a nuisance. In battle he never showed no quarter, an’ if he tuk any prisoners, it war only that he might let his men try their hands at shootin’. He seemed to understand fightin’ better nor the rest o’ the Mexikins, an’ it showed that he war a brave feller when he would come right into camp, with sich a price sot on his head.

“I warn’t long in makin’ up my mind what I ought to do, an’ I got down off my hoss, as though there warn’t a Greaser within a hundred miles o’ me; but, instead o’ givin the hoss into charge o’ the man, I hit him a cut with my whip that sent him flyin’ up the road. I knowed that he wouldn’t be far off when I wanted him, an’ I knowed, too, that my saddle an’ pistols war safe, ’cause nobody couldn’t ketch him besides me. Arter goin’ a little way up the road, he turned an’ looked back, an’ then jumped over a hedge into a field, an’ begun to eat. I could see that the Mexikins didn’t like it a bit, for they looked at each other an’ scowled, an’ José said:

“‘Carrajo! do you s’pose the American suspects any thing, gen’ral?’

“‘It don’t make no difference whether he does or not, said my guide, turnin’ on his heel, an’ motionin’ me to follow him to the house; ‘he’s in our power, an’ don’t leave this place alive.’

“Now, you wouldn’t have called that very pleasant news, I take it. Wal, it did make me feel rather onpleasant; but I didn’t exactly believe what the ole rascal had said about my not goin’ away alive. Thinks I, shootin’ is a game two can play at, an’ as long as you don’t bring them tarnal lassoes round, I’m all right. I had never seed a six-shooter afore I went into the army, but I had l’arnt to use ’em a’most as well as I could my rifle. I found that they war mighty handy things in a fight. I had four of ’em, two in my huntin’-shirt, and two had gone off with my hoss; an’ I knowed that when the time come I could get up a nice little fight for the Greasers.

“There war only two women in the house, an’ they seemed mighty glad to see him, an’ sot out a cheer for him; but they scowled at me, an’ left me to stand up. But that didn’t trouble me none, for I helped myself to a seat, an’ listened to what my guide war sayin’ to ’em. He war mighty perlite, an’ talked an’ laughed, an’ told the women as how he war goin’ to rub me out as soon as his men come; an’ then he war goin’ to pitch into Cap’n Morgan, who war out scoutin’ with his company, an’ had camped a little piece back in the mountains.

“It war the kurnel’s order that I should see him as we passed through the mountains, an’ send him to Monterey to onct, afore the Mexikins could ketch him. But my rascally guide had heered the order, an’ had led me out o’ my way, so that I shouldn’t see him. I listened with both my ears, an’ arter I had heered all the rascal’s plans, which were purty nicely laid out for a boy, I made up my mind that he would be a leetle disappointed when he tried to ketch Cap’n Morgan.

“In a little while the man that had tuk charge o’ the gen’ral’s hoss come in, an’ I soon found out that he war the man that war expected to do the business of cuttin’ my throat. But the gen’ral told him not to try it till midnight, when he would have plenty of men to back him up. This showed me that, brave as the young Greaser war when leadin’ his men, he didn’t like the idee o’ pitchin’ into an American single-handed. I guess he knowed by my looks that I could do some purty good fightin’.

“Arter eatin’ a hearty supper, an’ smokin’ a cigar with the gen’ral, I wrapped myself up in my blanket, which I had tuk from my saddle afore lettin’ my hoss go, an’ laid myself away in one corner of the room. The Mexikins didn’t like this, an’ one o’ the women made me understand by signs that there war a bed for me up stairs. But I thought that my chances for escape would be much better where I war; so I motioned her to go away, an’ pretended to go to sleep. The gen’ral an’ his man had a long talk about it, an’ I expected every minit to hear him tell the feller to shoot me. If he had, it would have been the signal for his own death, for I had both my revolvers under my blanket. But no sich order war given, an’ finally the gen’ral, arter tellin’ the man to keep a good watch on me, went into another room an’ went to bed, an’ his man stretched himself out on his cloak, right afore the door.

“Wal, I waited about two hours for him to go to sleep, an’ then made up my mind that I might as well be travelin’. So I throwed off my blanket an’ war risin’ to my feet, when ‘bang’ went the feller’s pistol, an’ the bullet whizzed by my head an’ went into the wall. I warn’t more’n ten feet from him, an’ I’ll be blamed if he didn’t miss me. The next minit I had him by the throat, an’ a blow from the butt of one o’ my six-shooters done the work for him. I dragged him away from the door, jumped down the steps, an’ made tracks through the garden.

“The night war purty dark, but I knowed which way to go to get out o’ the yard, which war surrounded by a palin’ eight foot high. You’d better believe I run some; but I hadn’t gone twenty yards from the house afore I run slap agin somebody. I thought at first that it war the gen’ral, an’ I muzzled him. ‘Carrajo! what does this mean?’ said the Mexikin, in Spanish. As soon as I heered his voice, I knowed that he warn’t the feller I wanted; most likely he war one o’ the men the gen’ral had been expectin’; so I give him a settler with my knife, an’ tuk to my heels agin.

“The pistol that the Mexikin had fired in the house had set the women a goin’; an’, when I reached the fence, I heered ’em yellin’ an’ wailin’ over the feller I had knocked down. I didn’t stop to listen to ’em, but jumped over into the field where my hoss war, an’ commenced whistlin’ for him. I thought he war a long while a coming an’ I ran along whistlin’, an’ wonderin’ where he had gone to. Purty soon I heered his whinny, an’ see him comin’ toward me like mad; an’ right behind him war three or four Mexikins, with their lassoes all ready to ketch him. But my hoss war leavin’ ’em behind fast; for the way he could climb over the ground when he onct made up his mind to run, war a caution to them Greasers. He come right up to me, an’ in a minit I war on his back.

“I now felt safe. The first thing I did war to pull out my huntin’-knife an’ fasten it to my wrist with a piece o’ buckskin; then, drawin’ one o’ my revolvers, I turned in my saddle, an’ thought I would stir up the Greasers a little, when all to onct somethin’ struck me in the face like a club, an’ I war lifted from my saddle clean as a whistle, and the next minit I war bumpin’ an’ draggin’ over the ground in a mighty onpleasant kind of a way. One o’ the Greasers had slipped his lasso over me, an’ war pullin’ me along as fast as his hoss could travel. I fell right flat on my face, an’ every step the Greaser’s hoss tuk plowed my nose in the ground, an’ my eyes war so full o’ dirt an’ blood that I could scarcely see.

“But I war not quite so fast as the Greaser had thought for. The lasso hadn’t gone down round my neck, but had ketched jest above my chin. I hadn’t never been in sich a mighty onpleasant fix afore, but I warn’t long in gettin’ my wits about me. Reachin’ up with my huntin’-knife, I made a slash at the lasso, an’ the next minit wor standin’ on my feet agin. I had hung onto my revolver, an’, drawin’ a bead on the Greaser that had ketched me, I tumbled him from his saddle in a twinklin’. My hoss hadn’t run an inch arter I war pulled off his back, an’ I war soon in the saddle agin.

“I knowed I war safe now, for, as I galloped over the field, I see the Greasers travelin’ down the road as though Gen’ral Taylor’s army war arter ’em. They war three to my one, but didn’t think themselves a match for a single American.”

CHAPTER XV
Caught at Last

“ BUT that isn’t all the story,” said the trapper, again filling his pipe. “As soon as the Greasers had got out o’ sight, I galloped back toward the road an’ tuk the back track, intendin’ to find Cap’n Morgan, an’ tell him that the Mexikins were kalkerlatin’ on ketchin’ him, an’ then go on with my dispatches.

“I had paid purty good attention to what the gen’ral had told the women, an’ I knowed exactly what road to take to find the cap’n’s camp; an’ you’d better believe I rid some. Purty soon some one yelled out:

“‘Who goes there?’

“‘Friend!’ I shouted, ’an’ I want to see Cap’n Morgan to onct. I’ve got some news for him.’

“You’d better believe the ole cap’n opened his eyes when I told him my story; an’ arter furnishin’ me with a fresh hoss – the best one in the camp – he set to work gettin’ ready for the Greasers. I didn’t much like the idee o’ startin’ out agin, for I didn’t know the short cuts through the country as well as I ought to, an’ the cap’n had no guide to send with me. But I knowed that them letters must be in Alamo by night, an’ I shouldn’t ever be able to look ole Bill Lawson in the face agin if I didn’t obey my orders; so, arter biddin’ the boys good-by, an’ wishin’ ’em good luck in fightin’ the Mexikins, I set out.

“I did plenty of doublin’ an’ twistin’ to get clear o’ the Greasers, for I met ’em about half way atween the mountains an’ the house where we had stopped, goin’ up to ketch the cap’n. They war in high spirits, but when they come down agin, about two hours arterward, they were runnin’ like white-heads, an’ the Texas boys were close at their heels.

“I war used to hard work, but when I got off my hoss that night in Alamo, I war about as tired a man as you ever see. Two days arterward I war back in Monterey agin. Ole Bill didn’t know me, for my face war purty well cut up. I told him the story of the Mexikin gen’ral, an’ arter talkin’ the matter over, me an’ him concluded we would capture that Greaser, an’ started up to head-quarters to have a talk with the kurnel about it.

“‘You can’t do it, boys,’ says he. ‘If Cortinas war an Injun, you would be jist the fellers to do it; but you don’t know enough about soldierin’. Howsomever, you can try.’

“The next mornin’, when me an’ Bill rid up to the kurnel’s head-quarters to bid him good-by, you wouldn’t a knowed us. We had pulled off our huntin’-shirts an’ leggins, an’ war dressed in reg’lar Mexikin style. We left our rifles behind, an’ tuk carbines in their place. We didn’t like to do this; but if we had carried our long shootin’-irons into a Mexikin camp, any one would a knowed what we war. We had our six-shooters and huntin’-knives stowed away in our jackets.

“‘Good-by, kurnel,’ said Bill, shakin’ the ole soldier’s hand. ‘We’ll ketch that Greaser, or you’ll never see us agin.’

“‘Do your best, boys,’ said the kurnel. ‘Bring back the Greaser, an’ the thousand dollars are yourn.’

“We follered the same path that the gen’ral had led me – takin’ keer not to ride too fast, ’cause we didn’t know what we might have for our hosses to do – an’ afore dark we come to the house where me an’ my guide had stopped, an’ knocked at the gate. When it war opened we could see that the place war full o’ Greasers; but that didn’t trouble us any, for we knowed that we should have to go into their camp if we wanted to ketch the gen’ral. We told the Greaser that come to the gate, that we were Mexikin soldiers, an’ wanted to stay there all night, an’ he war as perlite as we could wish – asked us to walk in, an’ sent a man to take keer of our hosses.

“This war the first time we had met a soldier in our new rig, an’ we were a little afeered that he might diskiver who we were; but we could both talk Spanish as well as he could, an’ the rascal didn’t suspect us.

“We asked to see the commandin’ officer, an’ when we found him we reported to him as scouts belongin’ to Gen’ral Santa Anna’s head-quarters, an’ that we had come with very important news for Gen’ral Cortinas. What that news was we didn’t know ourselves; but we knowed that we could get up a purty good story when the time come.

“‘All right,’ said the Greaser cap’n. ‘I’m goin’ up to Gen’ral Cortinas’ camp to-morrow, an’ you can ride right up with me.’

“We touched our hats to him an’ left the room. I hated mighty bad to salute that dirty Greaser jest as I would my kurnel. I had rather put a bullet in his yaller hide; but we war in for it, an’ we knowed that the hull thing depended on our behavin’ ourselves properly. As we passed out o’ the house we met the women, an’ I begun to shake in my boots agin, ’cause I knowed them women had sharp eyes, an’ I war afeered it war all up with us. But they didn’t suspect nothin’, an’ I knowed that we war safe; ’cause if they couldn’t see through the game we war playin’, nobody could.

“Wal, we went out into the yard an’ eat supper, an’ lay down around the fire with them ar dirty Mexikins, an’ listened to their insultin’ talk agin the Americans, an’, in course, jined in with ’em. They thought me an’ ole Bill war lucky dogs in bein’ with a great gen’ral like Santa Anna; but I couldn’t see what there war great in a man who, with an army o’ fifty thousand men, would run from six thousand. But we told ’em a good many things about the gen’ral that I guess they never heered afore, an’ we hadn’t heered of ’em neither; but they believed every thing we said war gospel truth, an’ we made our kalkerlations that in less nor a month the American army would all be prisoners.

“The next mornin’ we made an ’arly start, an’ that arternoon drew up in the Mexikin camp. It war a purty sight, I tell you – nothin’ to be seen but white tents as far as our eyes could reach. There warn’t less nor a hundred thousand men in that ar camp, an’ I begun to feel rather shaky when I thought of our small army at Monterey. While me an’ Bill war lookin’ about, a spruce little Greaser come up, an’ said that Gen’ral Cortinas war waitin’ to see us. We found the rascal in a large tent, with a sentry afore the door, an’ when I sot eyes on him, my fingers ached to ketch him by the throat. He looked jest as he did when me an’ him set out from Monterey together, only he had on a blue uniform.

“‘Wal, boys,’ said he, smilin’ an’ motionin’ us to set down, ‘I understand that you’re from Gen’ral Santa Anna, an’ have news for me.’

“‘Yes, gen’ral,’ said ole Bill, takin’ off his slouch-hat, an’ scratchin’ his head as if thinkin’ what to say. ‘We’ve got news for you. If you want to ketch Cap’n Morgan an’ his band o’ cutthroats, I’ll tell you jest how you can do it.’

“‘How can it be done, my good feller,’ said the gen’ral, rubbin’ his hands. ‘I thought I should capture him the other night, but he had too many men for me.’

“‘Wal,’ said ole Bill, ‘me an’ this feller here’ – pintin’ to me – ’war in Monterey yesterday, an’ heered an order read to Cap’n Morgan to march out o’ the city at midnight, an’ jine Cap’n Davis at Alamo. Now, if you want to ketch him, all you have got to do is to take fifty men, an’ wait for him in the mountains. He has got jest twenty-eight men in his company.’

“‘I’ll do it,’ said the Greaser. ‘But I’ll take a hundred men, to make sure of him. Which road is he going to take?’

“‘That’s what we can’t tell exactly,’ said ole Bill. ‘But me an’ this feller thought that we would come an’ tell you, so that you could have every thing ready, an’ then go back and find out all their plans.’

“‘Very well,’ said the Greaser; an’, arter writin’ somethin’ on a piece o’ paper, he handed it to ole Bill, sayin’: ‘Here’s a pass for you an’ your friend to go in an’ out o’ the lines whenever you please. Now, you go back to Monterey, an’ find out all Cap’n Morgan’s plans, an’ I’ll go out with a hundred men an’ ketch him.’

“This war exactly what me an’ Bill wanted. We were afeered at first that he would send some one else instead o’ goin’ himself; but now we knowed that we war all right; the gen’ral war ourn, an’ no mistake.

“As soon as we got out o’ sight o’ the camp, we made good time, an’ afore midnight we war in the kurnel’s head-quarters. As soon as he heered our story, he sent for one o’ his officers, an’ told him to march ’arly the next evenin’ with eighty men, an’ draw up an ambush, in a deep gorge, through which ran the road that led to Alamo. An’ he ordered Cap’n Morgan, who had reached Monterey the day afore, to be ready to march through that gorge at midnight.

“Arter me an’ Bill had rested a little while, we set out on fresh hosses, an’, in a few hours, were back in the Mexikin camp agin. That arternoon we rid out, side by side, with Gen’ral Cortinas, an’ about ten o’clock in the evenin’ we reached the gorge. Every thing war as silent as death; but I knowed that eighty Western rifles war stowed away among the trees, on each side o’ the road, an’ behind ’em war sturdy hunters an’ trappers, achin’ to send a bullet in among us.

“Arter the gen’ral had fixed his men to suit him, we drawed back into the bushes, an’ waited for Cap’n Morgan to come up. Jest a little afore midnight we heered a faint tramp, an’ in a few minits the rangers swept down into the gorge. For a minit nothin’ war heered but the noise o’ their hosses’ hoofs on the road. It war a fine sight to see them brave men ridin’ right down into that ambush, knowin’, as they did, that death war on each side o’ them. Nigher an’ nigher they come; an’ the gen’ral war about to give the order to fire, when, all to onct, a yell like an Injun’s burst from among the trees, an’ the reports of eighty rifles echoed through the mountains. You never seed a more astonished Greaser nor that Gen’ral Cortinas war about that time.

“‘Carrajo,’ he yelled, ‘you have betrayed me.’

“‘Shouldn’t wonder if we had, you tarnal yaller-hided scoundrel,’ said ole Bill; an’ afore the Greaser could make a move, we had him by the arms, an’ two six-shooters were lookin’ him in the face. His cowardly men didn’t fire a shot, but throwed down their guns, an’ run in every direction. But our boys closed up about ’em, an’ out o’ them ar hundred men that come out to ketch Cap’n Morgan, not half a dozen escaped. The only prisoner we tuk back to Monterey war the gen’ral.”

After Dick had got through his tale, the hunters held a consultation over the state of their larder. As their coffee, bread, and other supplies were exhausted, and they did not like the idea of living on venison and water, they concluded to break up camp. The next morning they packed their baggage into the sled, and, taking a last look at the place where they had spent so many happy hours, set out for Uncle Joe’s cabin, which they reached a little before dark.