The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vista by Joseph A. Altsheler
CHAPTER XIII
A WIND OF THE DESERT
Although many of the soldiers, the more hardened, had lain down tosleep, Phil did not feel that he could close his eyes. Too many deepemotions stirred his soul. He felt that he was at the verge of a greatevent, one in which he was to take a part to the full extent of hisstrength and courage, and there, too, was the sign of the lava, alwayscoming back, always persisting. He might reason with himself and callhimself foolish, but he could not dispossess his mind of the idea thatit was an omen to show him that he was upon the trail by which thatletter had come so vast a distance to him in the little town of Paris.
Every nerve in the boy was astir. He walked back and forth on one ofthe promontories, looking at the mountains which now in the darkness hadbecome black and full of threats, and trying in vain to soothe and quiethimself so he could lie down like the others and take the rest andforgetfulness that all men need before going into battle. While he wasthere, Middleton called to him:
"Come, Phil," he said, reverting to his old manner of comradeship, "youride with us to-night."
"Ride to-night!" replied Phil. "Where?"
"To the south, to meet Santa Anna. I am ordered to take thirty men andkeep going until I come into touch with the enemy. I am to have thirtymen of my choice, and you, Breakstone, and Arenberg were the first threethat I named. You don't have to go unless you wish."
"But I wish!" exclaimed Phil earnestly. "Don't think I'm unwilling,Captain! Don't think it!"
Middleton laughed.
"I don't," he said. "I knew that you would be keen for it. Saddle yourhorse and look to your arms. We ride in five minutes."
Phil was ready in three, and the thirty troopers rode silently down oneof the ravines and into the lower country. Phil looked back and saw thefires of the camp, mere red, yellow, and pink dots of flame. Themountains themselves were fused into a solid mass of black. The troop,arrow headed in shape, with Middleton at the point of the shaft, andPhil, Breakstone, and Arenberg close behind him, rode in silence savefor the beat of their horses' hoofs. The wind here did not moan likethat in the pass, but it seemed to Phil to be colder, and it had an edgeof fine particles that stung his cheeks and eyes.
The night was bright enough to allow of fairly swift riding, and theground was no longer cut and gullied as at the mouth of the pass. Hencethe troopers were not compelled to devote their whole attention to theirhorses and they could watch the country for sign of an enemy. But theydid not yet see any such sign. Phil knew that they were on the road,leading southward to Santa Anna, and he felt sure that if they kept uponit they must soon come upon the Mexican army. Yet the silence anddesolation were complete here. The pass had been weird and somber tothe full, but there they had thousands of comrades, and the fires in theravines had been cheering. Now the unlit darkness was all about them,and it still had that surcharged quality that it had borne for Phil whenin the pass. Nor did the fine dust cease to sting his face.
"What is it, Bill?" he asked. "Where does it come from, this dust?"
"It's a wind of the desert that stings us, Phil," replied Breakstone."It comes vast distances, and I think, too, that it brings some of thefine dust ground off the surface of the lava. Its effect is curious.It's like burnt gunpowder in the nostrils. It seems to heat the inside,too."
"It makes me feel that way," said Phil, "and it seems to be alwaysurging us on."
"An irritant, as it were," said Breakstone, "but I don't think we needit. The event itself is enough to keep us all on edge. Feel cold,Phil?"
"No, I've got a pair of buckskin gauntlets. Fine thing for riding onnights like this."
"So have I. But the night is cold, though. Now we're always thinkingof warm weather in Mexico, but we never find a country what we expect itto be. Ah, we're leaving the road. The Captain must think there issomething not far ahead."
They turned at a sharp angle from the road, and entered a thin forest.Phil looked back toward the mouth of the pass from which they had come.Everything there was behind an impenetrable black veil. The last pointof fire had died, and the mountains themselves were hidden. But he tookonly a single backward look. The wind of the desert was still stinginghis face, and it seemed to arouse him to uncommon fire and energy. Hiswhole attention was concentrated upon their task, and he was eager todistinguish himself in some way. But he neither heard nor saw anythingunusual.
They proceeded slowly through the forest, seeking to prevent all but theleast possible noise, and came presently to a field in which Indian cornseemed to have grown. But it was bare now, save for the dead stalksthat lay upon the ground, and here the troop spread out, riding almostin a single line.
It was Phil, keen of eye and watchful, who first saw a dim red tintunder the far southern horizon, and he at once called Middleton'sattention. The Captain halted them instantly, and his gaze followed theline of Phil's pointing finger.
"It is Santa Anna's army," he said, "and you, Phil, have the honor oflocating it first. The dim band of light which you pointed out is madeby their camp fires, which are many. We need not try to conceal thatfact from ourselves."
"We take a nearer view, do we not, Captain?" asked Bill Breakstone.
"Of course," replied Middleton, "but be cautious, all of you. It isimportant to see, but it is equally important to get back to GeneralTaylor with the tale our eyes may tell."
They rode forward again in a long and silent line. Phil's heart began tothrob. The desert wind was still stinging his face with the fineimpalpable dust that seemed to excite every nerve. As they advanced,the red tint on the southern horizon broadened and deepened. It wasapparent that it stretched far to east and west.
"It iss a great army, and it means much harm," said Arenberg softly,more to himself than to anybody else.
Nearer and nearer rode the bold horsemen, stopping often to watch forthe Mexican lancers who would surely be in advance of the army, beatingup the country, despite the darkness, but they did not yet see any.They rode on so far that they heard the occasional sound of a trumpet inthe Mexican camp, and the fires no longer presented a solid line.
"Captain," asked Bill Breakstone, "what do you think the sound of thosetrumpets means at an hour like this?"
"I'm not sure, Bill," replied Middleton, "but it must signify somemovement. The Mexicans, like many other people, love color and paradeand sound, but they would scarcely be indulging in such things atmidnight just for their own sakes. It is some plan. Santa Anna is aman of great energy and initiative. But we must discover what it is.That is what we came for."
The advance was renewed, although they went slowly, guarding as well asthey could against the least possible sound from their horses. Theywere now so near that they could see figures passing before the fires,and the dark outline of tents. They also heard the hum of many voices,the tread of hoofs by hundreds, and the jingling of many, spurs andbridle bits. Phil watched almost breathless, and the desert wind stillblew on his face, stirring him with its fine, impalpable powder, andadding new fire to the fire that already burned in his veins. And Philsaw that Middleton shared in this excited interest. The officer's glovedhand on his bridle rein quivered with eagerness.
"Yet a little nearer, my lads," he whispered. "We must risk everythingto find out what Santa Anna is intending at so late an hour."
Screened by a narrow thicket of strange, cactuslike plants, they rode soclose that they could see between the leaves and thorns directly intothe camp. Here they sat on motionless horses, but Phil heard a deep"Ah!" pass between Middleton's closed teeth. The boy himself hadexperience and judgment enough to know now what was going forward. Allthis jingling of bits and spurs meant the gathering of the Mexicancavalry. The Mexican camp fires burned along a front that seemedinterminable, and also scores of torches were held aloft to guide in thework that was now being done.
Phil saw the Mexican horsemen wheel out by hundreds, until there w
"An advance at midnight," breathed Middleton, but Phil heard him. "Andthere go infantry behind them. It is an attack in force. I have it! Ihave it! They are going toward Agua Neva. Santa Anna thinks that ourwhole army is there, and probably he believes he can get in our rear andcut us off. Then he'll compress us between his vast numbers as if wewere in the jaws of a vise."
Then he added, in a slightly louder tone:
"Come, my lads, we ride to Agua Neva, but we must be as careful as ever.We know now what our task is, and we will do it."
They turned and rode away. Fortune was with them. No horse neighed.Perhaps the sound of their hoofs might have been heard now, had it notbeen for the great Mexican column marching toward Agua Neva, where therear guard under Marshall was hurrying the stores, that had been leftthere, northward to Taylor. Middleton swung his little troop to oneside, until they were well beyond the hearing of Minon's cavalry.
"There can no longer be any doubt that they are heading for Agua Neva,"he said, "and we must beat them there, no matter what happens. Ride,boys, ride!"
They broke into a gallop, sweeping in a long line across some openfields, riding straight for a few points of light behind which they knewwas Agua Neva. They were now well ahead of the great column, andMiddleton took the chance of meeting any stray band of Mexican scoutsand skirmishers. They did meet such a band, but it was small, and, whenthe Mexican hail was answered with a shout in a foreign tongue, itquickly scattered and gave the Americans free passage. A few shots werefired, but nobody in Middleton's troop was touched, and none in theother. Without breaking line the Americans rode on. The lights grewclearer and increased in number. In a few moments they clattered downon Agua Neva, and ready sentinels, rifle in hand, halted them.
"Friends!" cried Middleton. "I am Captain Middleton, with scouts fromGeneral Taylor. I must see your commander at once!"
But Marshall was there as he spoke, and Middleton exclaimed in shortwords, surcharged with emphasis and earnestness:
"Santa Anna is coming down upon you! We have seen his cavalry marching,and the infantry are behind them! They will soon be here! They mustthink that our whole army is in Agua Neva, and evidently they intend tosurround it."
"All right," said Marshall calmly. "Most of the wagons are already onthe way to the pass. We cover their retreat, and the General told us tohold on here as long as we could. We mean to do it. Are you with us,Captain?"
"Certainly," replied Captain Middleton briefly. "You can depend on us tothe last."
"Minon's cavalry must be coming now," said Marshall. "It seems to methat I hear the tread of many horsemen."
"It is they," said Middleton. Marshall's men and his then fell backtoward the little town. They were only a few hundred in number, butthey had no idea of retreating without a fight. They were posted behindsome stone walls, hedges, and a few scattered houses. The last of thewagons loaded with stores were rumbling away northward toward the Passof Angostura.
Phil sat on his horse behind a stone wall, and all was silence along theline. The wind still blew, and stung his face with the dust of thedesert. His heart throbbed and throbbed. He saw Middleton open hiswatch, hold it close to his face in order that he might see the hands inthe moonlight, and then shut it with a little snap.
"Midnight exactly," he said, "and here they come!"
The heavy tread of many men was now in their ears, and the lancesgleamed in the moonlight, as the great Mexican force swung into the openspace about the little town. They came on swiftly and full of ardor,but a sheet of fire blazed in their faces. The long rifles of theAmericans were well aimed, despite the night--they could scarcely misssuch a mass--and horses and riders went down together.
While they were still in confusion, Marshall's little force loaded andfired again. A terrible uproar ensued. Men groaned or shouted, horsesneighed with fright or screamed with pain. Many of them ran riderlessbetween the combatants. Phil heard the Mexican officers shouting ordersand many strange curses. Smoke arose and permeated the night airalready charged with the dust of the desert. The Mexicans fired almostat random in the darkness, but they were many, and the bullets flying inshowers were bound to strike somebody. Two or three Americans droppedslain from their horses, or, on foot, died where they were struck,behind the walls. The Mexicans in a vast half circle still advanced.Marshall and Middleton conferred briefly.
"How many men have you?" asked Marshall.
"Thirty."
"I have about fifty more cavalrymen. Take them and charge with all yourmight. They may think in the darkness that you have a thousand."
"Come!" said Middleton to his men, and he and the eighty rode out intothe open. They paused there only an instant, because the great halfcircle of the Mexicans was still advancing. Phil, in the moonlight, sawthe enemy very distinctly, the lances and escopetas, the tall conicalhats with wide brims, and the dark faces under them. Then, at thecommand of Middleton, they fired their rifles and galloped straight atthe foe.
Phil could never give any details of that wild moment. He was consciousof a sudden surge of the blood, the thudding of hoofs, the blades oflances almost in his face, fierce, dark eyes glaring into his own, andthen they struck. The impact was accompanied by the flashing of sabers,the falling of men and horses, shouts and groans, while the smoke fromthe firing to the right and left of them drifted in their faces.
Phil felt a shock as his horse struck that of a Mexican lancer. Thelance-blade flashed past his face, and it felt cold on his cheek as itpassed, but it did not touch him. The Mexican's horse went down beforethe impact of his, and he saw that the whole troop, although a fewsaddles were emptied, had crashed through the Mexican line. They had cutit apart like a knife through cheese. While the Mexicans were yetreeling from the shock, Middleton, a born cavalry leader, wheeled hismen about, and they charged back through the Mexican line at anotherpoint. The second passage was easier than the first, because Minon's menhad been thrown into disorder, yet it was not made without wounds. Philwas slightly grazed in the side by a bullet, and a lance had torn hiscoat on his shoulder. If the cloth had not given way he would have beenthrown from the saddle. As it was, he nearly dropped his rifle, but hemanaged to retain both seat and weapon.
"All right!" shouted a voice in his ear. It was that of Breakstone, whowas watching over him like a father.
"All right," returned Phil confidently, and then they were back withMarshall's men, all but a dozen, who would ride no more.
"Good work," said Marshall to Middleton. "That startled them. Theywill ride back a little, and our riflemen, too, are doing almost as goodwork in the moonlight as they could in the sunlight."
The blood was pounding so heavily in Phil's ears after the double chargethat he did not realize until then that the heavy firing had neverceased. The little American force reloaded and pulled the trigger soquickly that the volume of their firing gave the effect of numbers threeor four times that of the real. The darkness, too, helped the illusion,and the Southerners and Westerners replied to the shouts of the Mexicanswith resounding cheers of their own. An officer galloped up, and Philheard him shout to Marshall above the crash of the firing:
"The last of the wagons is beyond the range of fire!"
"Good," said Marshall. "Now we, too, must fall back. The moment theydiscover how few we are they can wrap us in a coil that we cannot break.But we'll fight them while they follow us."
The little force was drawn in skillfully, and the horsemen on eitherflank began to retire from Agua Neva. The Mexicans, urged by Minon,Torrejon, Ampudia, and Santa Anna himself, pushed hard against theretiring force, seeking ei
Santa Anna had expected to get his great cavalry force in the rear ofTaylor at Agua Neva, but at midnight, finding Taylor not there and onlya small detachment left, he had hoped to capture or destroy that in afew minutes. Instead, half his army was fighting a most desperate rearguard action with a few hundred men, and every second Marshall saved wasprecious to the commander back there at the Pass of Angostura.
Phil was grazed by another bullet, and his horse was stung once.Arenberg was slightly wounded, but Breakstone was untouched, and thethree still kept close together. The boy could not take note of thepassage of time. It seemed to him that they had been fighting for hoursas they gave way slowly before the huge mass of the Mexican army. Greatclouds of smoke from the firing had turned the moonlight to a darkerquality. Now and then it drifted in such quantities that the moon waswholly obscured, and then it was to the advantage of the Americans, whocould fire from their hollow square in every direction, and be sure thatthey hit no friend.
They had now left the town far behind and were well on the way to thePass. Phil noticed that the fire of the Mexicans was slackening.Evidently Santa Anna had begun to believe that it would not pay tofollow up any longer a rear guard that stung so hard and so often. Thiscertainly was the belief of Bill Breakstone.
"The pursuit is dying," he said, "not because they don't want us, butbecause our price is too high.
It is not right To fight at night Unless you know Right well your foe. The darkness cumbers Him with numbers; The few steal away, And are gone at day.
"My verse is a little ragged this time, Phil, but it is made in the heatof action, and it at least tells a true tale. See how their fire issinking! The flashes stop to the right, they stop to the left, and theywill soon stop in the center. It's a great night, Phil, for Marshalland his men. They were ordered to do big things, and they've filled theorder twice over. And we came into it, too, Phil, don't forget that!There, they've stopped entirely, as I told you they would!"
The firing along Santa Anna's front ceased abruptly, and as the retreatcontinued slowly the columns of the Mexican army were lost in thedarkness. No lance heads glittered, and the bugles no longer called themen to action. Bill Breakstone had spoken truly. Santa Anna found therear guard too tough for him to handle in the darkness, and stopped forthe rest of the night. When assured of this, Marshall ordered hislittle force to halt, while they took stock of the wounded and dressedtheir hurts as best they could at such a hurried moment. Then theyresumed their march for the pass, with the wagons that they had defendedso well lumbering on ahead.
After the exertion of so much physical or mental energy the men rode orwalked in silence. Phil was surprised to find that his hands and facewere wet with perspiration, and he knew then that his face must be blackwith burnt gunpowder. But he felt cold presently, as the chill nightwind penetrated a body relaxed after so great an effort. Then he tookthe blanket roll from his saddle and wrapped it around him. Breakstoneand Arenberg had already done the same. Looking back, Phil saw a fewlights twinkling where the Mexicans had lighted their new camp fires,but no sound came from that point. Yet, as of old, the desert wind blew,and the fine dust borne on its edge stung his face, and brought to hisnostrils an odor like that of battle. Under its influence he was stillready for combat. He gloried in the achievement of this little divisionin which he had a part, and it gave him strength and courage for thegreater struggle, by far, that was coming. Breakstone shared in hispleasure, and talked lightly in his usual fashion, but Arenberg wassober and very thoughtful.
"Well, we burnt old Santa Anna's face for him, if we did do it in thedark," said Bill, "and we can do it in daylight, too."
"But did you see his numbers?" said Arenberg. "Remember how vast was hiscamp, and with what a great force he attacked us at Agua Neva. Ach, Ifear me for the boys who are so far from their home, the lads ofKentucky and Illinois and the others!"
"Don't be downhearted, Hans, old boy," said Breakstone with genuinefeeling. "I know you have things on your mind--though I don't ask youwhat they are--that keep you from being cheerful, but don't forget thatwe've the habit of victory. Our boys are Bonaparte's soldiers in thecampaign of Italy, they don't mean to be beaten, and they don't getbeaten. And you can put that in your pipe, too, and smoke it, SirPhilip of the Horse Battle and the Night Retreat. Look, we'reapproaching the Pass. See the lights come out one by one. Don't thelights of a friend look good?"
Phil agreed with him. It was a satisfying thing to come safely out of abattle in which they had done what they had wanted to do, and return totheir own army. It was now nearly morning, but the troops still marched,while the last wagons rumbled on ahead. Scouts came forward to hailthem and to greet them warmly when they found that they were friends.There was exultation, too, when they heard the news of the fine fightthat the little division had given to Santa Anna. LieutenantWashington, who was in charge of the division that commanded the road,met Middleton and Marshall a hundred yards from the mouths of his guns,and Phil heard them talking. General Taylor had not yet returned fromSaltillo, where he had gone to strengthen and fortify the division atthat place, as he greatly feared a flank movement of Santa Anna aroundthe mountain to seize the town and cut him off.
Wool, meanwhile, was in command, and he listened to the reports ofMarshall and Middleton, commending them highly for the splendidresistance that they had offered to overwhelming numbers. Phil gatheredfrom their tone, although it was only confirmation of a fact that heknew already, that their little force was in desperate case, indeed.Never before had the omens seemed so dark for an American army. For ina desolate and gloomy country, with every inhabitant an enemy and spyupon them, with an army outnumbering them five to one approaching, bravemen might well despair.
It struck Phil with sudden force that the odds could be too great afterall, and that he might never finish his quest. In another hour or twohe might see his last sunrise. He shook himself fiercely, told himselfthat he was foolish and weak, and then rode toward the pass. Theytethered their horses on the edge of the plateau, and at the advice ofMiddleton all sought sleep.
But the boy's nerves were yet keyed too highly for relaxation. Hisweary body was resting, but his heart still throbbed. He saw thesentinels walking back and forth. He saw the dark shapes of cannonposted on the promontories, and above them the mountains darker and yetmore somber. Several fires still burned in the ravines, and theofficers sat about them talking, but most of the army slept. As Phil layon the earth he heard the wind moaning behind him as it swept up thepass, but it still touched his face with the fine impalpable dust thatstung like hot sand, and that seemed to him to be an omen and a presage.He lay a long time staring into the blackness in the direction in whichSanta Anna's army now lay, where he and his comrades had fought such agood fight at midnight. He saw nothing there with his real eye, butwith his mind's eye he beheld the vast preparations, the advance of thehorsemen, and the flashing of thousands of lances in
When the morning sun was showing over the ridges and peaks of the SierraMadre, and pouring its light into the nooks and crannies of the ravines,he fell asleep.