The adventures of Captain Horn/Chapter 40

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1869446The adventures of Captain Horn — 40. The Battle of the Golden WallFrank Richard Stockton

CHAPTER XL


THE BATTLE OF THE GOLDEN WALL


The five men now got behind the barrier of bags, but, before following them, Captain Horn, with the but of his rifle, drew a long, deep furrow in the sand about a hundred feet from the breastwork of bags, and parallel with it. Then he quickly joined the others.

The three white men stationed themselves a little distance apart, and each moved a few of the top bags so as to get a good sight between them, and not expose themselves too much.

As the boats came on, the negroes crouched on the sand, entirely out of sight, while Shirley and Burke each knelt down behind the barrier, with his rifle laid in a crevice in the top. The captain's rifle was in his hand, but he did not yet prepare for action. He stooped down, but his head was sufficiently above the barrier to observe everything.

The two boats came rapidly on, and were run up on the beach, and the men jumped out and drew them up, high and safe. Then, without the slightest hesitation, the ten of them, each with a gun in his hand, advanced in a body toward the line of bags.

"Ahoy!" shouted the captain, suddenly rising from behind the barrier. "Who are you, and what do you want?" He said this in English, but immediately repeated it in Spanish.

"Ahoy, there!" cried Cardatas. "Are you Captain Horn?"

"Yes, I am," said the captain, "and you must halt where you are. The first man who passes that line is shot."

Cardatas laughed, and so did some of the others, but they all stopped.

"We'll stop here a minute to oblige you," said Cardatas, "but we've got something to say to you, and you might as well listen to it."

Shirley and Burke did not understand a word of these remarks, for they did not know Spanish, but each of them kept his eye running along the line of men who still stood on the other side of the furrow the captain had made in the sand, and if one of them had raised his gun to fire at their skipper, it is probable that he would have dropped. Shirley and Burke had been born and bred in the country; they were hunters, and were both good shots. It was on account of their fondness for sport that they had been separated from the rest of their party on the first day of the arrival of the people from the Castor at the caves.

"What have you to say?" said the captain. "Speak quickly."

Cardatas did not immediately answer, for Nunez was excitedly talking to him. The soul of the horse-dealer had been inflamed by the sight of the bags. He did not suppose it possible that they could all contain gold, but he knew they must be valuable, or they would not have been carried up there, and he was advising a rush for the low wall.

"We will see what we can do with them, first," said Cardatas to Nunez. "Some of us may be shot if we are in too great a hurry. They are well defended where they are, and we may have to get round into their rear. Then we can settle their business very well, for the negro said there were only three white men. But first let us talk to them. We may manage them without running any risks."

Cardatas turned toward the captain, and at the same time Burke said:

"Captain, hadn't you better squat down a little? You're making a very fine mark of yourself."

But the captain still stood up to listen to Cardatas.

"I'll tell you what we've come for," said the latter. "We are not officers of the law, but we are the same thing. We know all about you and the valuable stuff you've run away with, and we've been offered a reward to bring back those bags, and to bring you back, too, dead or alive, and here we are, ready to do it. It was good luck for us that your vessel came to grief, but we should have got you, even if she hadn't. We were sure to overhaul you in the Straits. We know all about you and that old hulk, but we are fair and square people, and we're sailors, and we don't want to take advantage of anybody, especially of sailors who have had misfortunes. Now, the reward the Californian government has offered us is not a very big one, and I think you can do better by us, so if you'll agree to come out from behind that breastwork and talk to us fair and square, your two white men and your three negroes,—you see, we know all about you,—I think we can make a bargain that'll suit all around. The overnment of California hasn't any claim on us, and we don't see why we should serve it any more than we should serve you, and it will be a good deal better for you to be content with half the treasure you've gone off with, or perhaps a little more than that, and let us have the rest. We will take you off on our vessel, and land you at any port you want to go to, and you can take your share of the bags ashore with you. Now, that's what I call a fair offer, and I think you will say so, too."

Captain Horn was much relieved by part of this speech. He had had a slight fear, when Cardatas began, that these men might have been sent out by the Peruvian government, but now he saw they were a set of thieves, whether Rackbirds or not, doing business on their own account.

"The Californian government has nothing to do with me," cried Captain Horn, "and it never had anything to do with you, either. When you say that, you lie! I am not going to make any bargain with you, or have anything to do with you. My vessel is wrecked, but we can take care of ourselves. And now I'll give you five minutes to get to your boats, and the quicker you go, the better for you!"

At this, Nunez stepped forward, his face red with passion. "Look here, you Yankee thief," he cried, "we'll give you just one minute to come out from behind that pile of bags. If you don t come, we'll—"

But if he said any more, Captain Horn did not hear it, for at that moment Burke cried: "Drop, captain!" And the captain dropped.

Stung by the insult he had received, and unable to resist the temptation of putting an end to the discussion by shooting Captain Horn, Cardatas raised his rifle to his shoulder, and almost in the same instant that the captain's body disappeared behind the barrier, he fired. But the bullet had scarcely left his barrel when another ball, from Shirley's gun, struck Cardatas under his uplifted left arm, and stretched him on the sand.

A shock ran through the attacking party, and instinctively they retreated several yards. So suddenly had they lost their leader that, for a few moments, they did not seem to understand the situation. But, on a shout from one of them to look out for them selves, every man dropped flat upon the beach, behind a low bank of sand scarcely a foot high. This was not much protection, but it was better than standing up as marks for the rifles behind the barrier.

The men from the Arato were very much surprised by what had happened. They had expected to have an easy job with the crew of the Miranda. As soon as the sailor Sanchez had seen the stranded brig, he had recognized her, and Cardatas, as well as the rest of them, had thought that there would be nothing to do but to go on shore with a party of well-armed men, and possess themselves of whatever treasure she had brought to this deserted coast. But to find her crew strongly intrenched and armed had very much amazed them.

Nunez's anger had disappeared, and his accustomed shrewdness had taken its place, for he now saw that very serious business was before them. He was not much of a soldier, but he knew enough to understand that in the plan proposed by Cardatas lay their only hope of success. It would be ridiculous to lie there and waste their ammunition on that wall of bags. He was lying behind the others, and raised his head just enough to tell them what they should do.

"We must get into their rear," he said. "We must creep along the sand until we reach those bushes up there, and then we can get behind them. I'll go first, and you can follow me."

At this, he began to work himself along the beach, somewhat after the fashion of an earthworm. But the men paid no attention to him. There was little discipline among them, and they had no respect for the horse-dealer as a commander, so they remained on the sands, eagerly talking among themselves. Some of them were frightened, and favored a rush for the boats. But this advice brought down curses from the others. What were three men to nine, that they should run away?

Burke now became tired of waiting to see what would happen next, and putting his hat on a little stick, he raised it a short distance above the breastwork. Instantly one of the more excitable men from the Arato fired at it.

"Very good," said Burke. "They want to keep it up, do they? Now, captain," he continued, "we can see the backs and legs of most of them. Shall we fire at them? That will be just as good as killing them. They mean fight—that's easy to see."

But the captain was not willing to follow Burke's advice.

"I don't want to wound or maim them," he replied. "Let's give them a volley just over their heads, and let them see what we are prepared to do. Now, then, when I give the word!"

In a few moments three shots rang out from the intrenchment, and the bullets went whistling over the prostrate bodies of the men on the sand. But these tactics did not have the effect Captain Horn hoped for. They led to no waving of handkerchiefs, nor any show of an intention to treat with an armed and in trenched foe. Instead of that, the man Sanchez sprang to his feet and cried:

"Come on, boys! Over the wall and at them before they can reload!"

At this all the men sprang up and dashed toward the line of bags, Nunez with them. Somebody might get hurt in this wild charge, but he must reach the treasure as soon as the others. He must not fail in that. But Sanchez made a great mistake when he supposed that Captain Horn and his men fought with such arms as the muzzle-loading rifles and shot-guns which the Arato's men had thought quite sufficient to bring with them for the work they had to do. Captain Horn, when he had fitted out the Miranda, had supplied himself and his two white men with fine repeating rifles, and the Arato's men had scarcely crossed the line which had been drawn on the sand before there were three shots from the barrier, and three of the enemy dropped. Even the captain made a good shot this time.

At this the attacking party stopped, and some of them shouted, "To the boats!" Nunez said nothing, for he was dead. There had been much straggling in the line, and Shirley had singled him out as one of the leaders. Before one of them had turned or a retreat begun, Burke's rifle flashed, and another man fell over against a companion, and then down upon the sand. The distance was very short, and a bad shot was almost impossible for a good hunter.

Now there was no hesitation. The five men who had life and legs, turned and dashed for the boats. But the captain did not intend, now, that they should escape, and rifle after rifle cracked from the barricade, and before they reached the boats, four of the flying party had fallen. The fifth man stumbled over one of his companions, who dropped in front of him, then rose to his feet, threw down his gun, and, turning his face toward the shore, held up his hands high above his head.

"I surrender!" he cried, and, still with his arms above his head, and his face whiter than the distant sands, he slowly walked toward the barrier.

The captain rose. "Halt!" he cried, and the man stood stock-still. "Now, my men," cried the captain, turning to Burke and Shirley, "keep your eyes on that fellow until we reach him, and if he moves, shoot him."

The three white men, followed by the negroes, ran down to the man, and when they had reached him, they carefully searched him to see if he had any concealed weapons.

After glancing rapidly over the bodies which lay upon the sand, the captain turned to his men.

"Come on, every one of you," he shouted, "and run out that boat," pointing to the largest one that had brought the Arato's men ashore.

Shirley and Burke looked at him in surprise.

"We want that vessel!" he cried, in answer. "Be quick!" And taking hold of the boat himself, he helped the others push it off the sand. "Now, then," he continued, "Shirley, you and Burke get into the bow, with your rifles. Tumble in, you black fellows, and each take an oar. You," he said in Spanish to the prisoner, "get in and take an oar, too."

The captain took the tiller. Shirley and Burke pushed the boat into deep water, and jumped aboard. The oars dipped, and they were off, regardless of the low surf which splashed its crest over the gunwale as the boat turned.

"Tell me, you rascal," said the captain to the prisoner, who was tugging at his oar as hard as the others, "how many men are aboard that schooner?"

"Only two, I swear to you, Señor Capitan; there were twelve of us in all."

The men left on the schooner had evidently watched the proceedings on shore, and were taking measures accordingly.

"They've slipped their anchor, and the tide is running out!" shouted the captain. "Pull! Pull!"

"They're running up their jib!" cried Burke. "Lay to, you fellows, or I'll throw one of you overboard, and take his place!"

The captured man was thoroughly frightened. They were great fighters, these men he had fallen among, and he pulled as though he were rowing to rescue his dearest friend. The black fellows bent to their oars like madmen. They were thoroughly excited. They did not know what they were rowing: for they only knew they were acting under the orders of their captain, who had just killed nine Rackbirds, and their teeth and their eyes flashed as their oars dipped and bent.