Chapter 34

THE DOGS OF CUBAN WARFARE.

In a few minutes Alano’s father recovered sufficiently to tell his story. He had entered the village in safety, and soon put himself into communication with several citizens who were Cuban sympathizers. From one of these he had learned that my father was being kept a prisoner in what had formerly been a cattle-house, but which was now doing duty as a Spanish prison. No one was allowed to talk to the prisoners, but by bribing the man who owned the building the captain had succeeded in getting word to my father that he was around and that I was with him, and that both of us intended to do all in our power to effect his release.

This word having been passed to my parent, Captain Guerez has set about perfecting a plan whereby my father might be supplied with tools for freeing himself, and also a pistol. But in this work he had been discovered, and a struggle and flight followed. Luckily, the Spaniards had not discovered whom he was working for in particular, there being a dozen prisoners in the same building, so it was not likely my parent would suffer in consequence.

“We must watch the road to Santiago,” said Captain Guerez, when he had finished, washed himself, and had a refreshing drink of water. “It is our one chance.”

“If only we had horses!” put in Alano.

“We must find animals, my son.”

The captain spoke decidedly. “Necessity knows no law,” and it was easy to see he intended to obtain the horses—if not in one way, then in another. Of course I did not blame him. To me it seemed a matter of life and death.

As rapidly as we could, we made our way around the hills to the Santiago road. We had just reached it when Burnham, who was slightly in advance, halted us and announced a camp off to our left. Captain Guerez surveyed the situation and smiled.

“Cattle dealers,” he said. “They have brought in horses to sell to the Spanish authorities. I’ll make a deal with them.”

He went off, with Alano at his side. Instead of following, Burnham and I concealed ourselves in the bushes, to watch who might pass on the highway to the seaport town. There was no telling when those who had my father in custody would be along.

It was a long while before the captain and my chum came back, but when they did each rode a strong horse and led another behind. Burnham and I were soon in the saddle; and then all of us felt safer, for being in the saddle would place us in a position equally as good as that occupied by any of our enemies.

“Look well to your pistols,” said the captain. “It may be that a sharp and wild dash will be the only way in which Mark’s father can be rescued.”

“I hope the guard having him in charge is not too large,” I answered, as I did as he suggested.

“We’ll all hope that, Mark.”

With pistols ready for use, we ranged up behind a heavy clump of trees and awaited the coming of the guard from San Luardo. I was on pins and needles, as the saying goes, and started up at the slightest sound. For this Burnham poked fun at me; yet he himself was on the alert, as I could see by the way he compressed his lips and worked at the ends of his mustache.

“Hark!” said Captain Guerez presently, and we all sat like statues and listened. From down the road came the tramp of a dozen or more horses and mules. The guard with the prisoners was advancing. The decisive moment was at hand. I swallowed a strange lump in my throat and grasped my pistol tighter. For my father’s sake I would fight to the bitter end.

From out of a cloud of dust rode a vidette, heavily armed and with his eyes and ears on the alert for anything which might sound or look suspicious. As he came nearer we drew back behind the trees, and Captain Guerez motioned us to absolute silence.

The vidette passed, and then the main body of the guard came on. There were three soldiers in front and three behind, and between rode two prisoners on mules, both whites and evidently Americans. I strained my eyes to their utmost, and soon distinguished my father’s familiar face and form.

My father! The sight thrilled me to the soul, and I had all I could do to restrain myself from riding forth to meet him. An exclamation came to my lips, but the hand of my chum checked it, while a look from him told plainer than words that he realized how I felt.

“Attention!” whispered Captain Guerez. “Are you all prepared to fight? I think these guards are raw recruits, and if so a few volleys will cause them to take to their heels.”

“I am ready,” I said grimly.

“And I,” added Alano.

“You can count on me,” put in Burnham.

“Very well. I will take the first fellow to the left. Alano, you take the second; Mark, you the third; and you, Burnham, take any one in the rear you choose.”

“I’ll take the middle guard,” muttered the newspaper man.

“I know you can all fire well, so aim for the sword arm,” went on the captain. “There is no necessity for killing the fellows, unless it comes to close quarters. Ready? Take aim—fire!”

The words “Take aim!” had been spoken aloud, causing several of the guards to draw rein in alarm. At the command to fire, our pistols blazed away simultaneously, and our several aims were so good that four of the guards were hit, three in the arms and one in the side.

“Forward, and fire again!” shouted the gallant captain, and out of the clearing we dashed, discharging our weapons a second time.

The detachment of Spanish soldiers was taken completely by surprise. The lieutenant in command had been wounded, and when he saw us coming from the woods he imagined we must outnumber his men, for he gave a hasty order to retreat, and led the way. For a third time we fired, and scarcely had the echo died among the hills than every one of the soldiers was going back the way he had come, as rapidly as his horse would carry him, the vidette, who had turned also, going with them.

“Mark!” cried my father, when he saw me. “Is it possible!”

“Father!” was all I could say. With my knife I cut the rawhide thongs which bound him to the mule’s back, and in a second more we were in each other’s arms. The other prisoner was also released, and both were speedily provided with weapons.

“We must not lose time here—follow me!” shouted Captain Guerez. “You can talk all you please later on,” he added to me and my happy parent.

All of us followed him back into the woods, and along a trail which he declared must bring us to another seaport town, eight miles to the east of Santiago Bay. We put spurs to our steeds, and long before nightfall half a dozen miles of the uneven way had been covered.

As fast as we were able to do so, my father and I rode side by side, and never had I felt happier than then, while he was equally pleased. As we journeyed along I told my story from beginning to end, and then he told his own—how he had been captured and taken for a spy, how cruelly he had been treated, and all. Just before he had received Captain Guerez' message he had given up all hope, and even while on the road he had been fearful that the plan to rescue him would miscarry.

“What do you think we had best do?” I asked, after our stories were told.

“I wish to get out of the country as soon as possible, Mark. I cannot stand the climate. Half a dozen times I have felt as if I was going to be taken down with the fever. That injured leg took away a good bit of my strength.”

“Can we take passage from the town to which we are bound?”

“We can try,” answered my father.

Another half-mile was covered, and we were beginning to consider that we had made good our retreat from the spot where the encounter with the Spanish soldiers had occurred, when suddenly a deep baying broke out at our rear, causing Alano and the captain to give a simultaneous cry of alarm.

“What is it?” asked Burnham.

“What is it!” was the answer from the captain. “Can’t you hear? The heartless wretches have set several bloodhounds on our trail!”

“Bloodhounds!” we echoed.

“Yes, bloodhounds!” ejaculated Alano. “Hark! there must be three, if not four, of the beasts!”

“Will they attack us—on horseback?”

“Certainly—they’ll fly right at a fellow’s throat.”

“But how can they track us—we have not been on foot.”

“They are tracking the mules Se�or Carter and Se�or Raymond ride,” put in Captain Guerez. “Hark! they are coming nearer! In a few minutes more they will be upon us! Out with your pistols and fight the beasts as best you can. It is our only hope!”