Ellis Edward Sylvester
Up the Forked River: or, Adventures in South America

CHAPTER XXV

There nestled their boat with no sign of having been visited during their absence. Its prow was drawn well up the bank, and the sail lay in a roll on the boom and at the foot of the single mast with everything snug. Martella hastily examined every portion of the hull, stepping into the water to do so, and finally said with a grin:

“None of them saw it.”

“That is better fortune than I expected. Providence has been kind to us, but where is their boat, Martella?”

They listened for the blowing off of steam, but, save for the never silent sounds from the forest and jungle, all was silent.

“It is not far away; General Yozarro made the landing above and passed up the other trail to where it joins this one. It was lucky, for, had he come here, as he did last night, he must have seen our boat. He would have crippled it, and when he met the horse along the trail, he would have known we were near. There is no need of undue haste, and if you do not care, I will visit the gunboat.”

“Are you not running great risk?”

“The only ones there are the engineer and two firemen; I have nothing to fear from them.”

“You have my permission.”

The vegetation and foliage were so intricate that, instead of taking the shorter distance, the native loped back over the trail to the forking, and then went down the other to the river’s edge. As he expected, he found the tug lying against the shore. In a country where wood is superabundant and coal almost unknown, the former was used exclusively on the craft. A large quantity was always piled at the front, some of the kinds belonging to the most valuable exports, with such a close grain that it gave out as fervid heat as the mineral itself. Instead of maintaining a high pressure of steam, the engineer allowed it to sink. The return of General Yozarro was not looked for under several hours, and with so much resinous wood at hand, the furnace could be quickly fired up. It was a saving all round to let the steam moderate, which explains why our friends heard nothing of the craft sleeping less than thirty rods away.

Despite the confidence of Martella, he knew his venture was not wholly free from risk, and in the face of his comradeship with the crew, it was not unlikely that they would seek to win the good will of the Dictator by delivering the deserter to him. If there were others beside the engineer and firemen on board, it would be imprudent to the last degree to entrust himself to them. He therefore spent considerable time in reconnoitering.

Moving stealthily here and there, and peering out from the shadows, he soon made out the form of a man seated on the gunwale at the front, doubtless in quest of coolness. He was smoking a cigarette and something in his appearance was so familiar that the deserter called, in a guarded voice:

“Valentin, is that you?”

The man looked sharply around and removed the cigarette from between his lips.

“Martella!” he replied in the same careful voice.

“Who else is on the boat?”

“Only Juarez and Dominguez.”

He had mentioned the names of the two firemen.

“Is it safe for me to join you in a smoke?”

“For a little while only.”

Martella came out in the moonlight, moved softly up the plank which connected the boat with the shore, and seating himself beside his old acquaintance, lit a cigarette. They talked for some minutes, as if no cloud had come between them, and then the visitor, heeding the warning of the engineer, bade him good bye and hurried back to his friends, who were becoming impatient over his absence.

Major Starland and the others noted that the deserter was in high spirits, but no one could understand why this should be the case.

“It is as I thought,” said Martella; “the gunboat landed General Yozarro and the officers who have gone to the Castle.”

“We knew that before.”

“And he did not dream of the presence of our boat so near. Things would have been different had he known it.”

“I may add, Martella, that that information is not new to us.”

“But some things are new. The only ones on the boat are the engineer and two firemen. There will be no trouble about it.”

“Trouble about what?”

“Capturing the boat; the crew will make no resistance, for it is not intended that they shall do any fighting. If they do, we can defeat them easily.”

“So you have a plan for capturing that old tug of General Yozarro? What do you think of it, Captain?”

“It can be done with little trouble as Martella says. I was thinking of the same thing while he was away. It would be a fine trick to play on General Yozarro.”

“And I should be glad to help, but it will not do.”

“Why not?”

“Despite what General Yozarro said, the two republics are not at war. If they were, the capture would make your fortune. As it is, it would bring your ruin. General Bambos would be obliged not only to disavow the act, but to punish you for the offence.”

“I was thinking,” said Martella, “that perhaps the Major would be willing to take the responsibility.”

“I admit that the temptation is strong, and, were not Miss Starland’s interests at stake, nothing would please me more than to capture that wheezy tug and scuttle it, but it may bring unpleasant consequences to her and therefore is not to be thought of.”

Captain Guzman said these words were wise, and Martella was compelled reluctantly to accept the situation, though it irked him. The sail of the boat was hoisted, Miss Starland was given a seat at the stern, and the men united to shove the craft into deeper water.

“There is little wind,” observed the Captain, “but it is favoring and we ought to be at Zalapata soon after daylight.”

The two natives placed themselves at the bow, and the Major as usual, took charge of the tiller, thus bringing himself close to his sister. The wooded shore so blanketed the catboat, that Martella took up a pole to push the craft out into the stream. Soon, enough impulse caught the sail to give headway, and they moved slowly out toward the middle of the river. Martella laid down the pole, and seated himself, still grinning.

“Major, I have pleasing news for you,” he chuckled.

“I am listening.”

“The engineer gave my message to General Yozarro.”

“He did! It is fortunate for you that you and he did not meet.”

“More fortunate for him than for me,” was the significant comment.

CHAPTER XXVI

The sailboat crept slowly out into the middle of the river, the breeze being so light that only a faint rippling was heard at the bow, and the craft hardly answered her helm. Major Starland had noted that the wind was not favorable, and he was compelled to tack toward the northern shore. He ran close in and was cheered by a freshening of the breeze which added perceptibly to the speed.

“At this rate,” said his sister, “we shall not reach Zalapata till tomorrow is well advanced.”

“It cannot matter, for there is no special need of haste.”

“Suppose, when General Yozarro returns, he pursues us?”

“It is not impossible; it will be easy for him to overhaul such a slow-sailing boat as this, but he dare not offer us harm. Are we not free born Americans, and will not our government be quick to punish such an offence?”

“You must not forget that the South American is an idiot, for, had he not been, he would not have dared to forbid my leaving the Castle.”

“Since a long sail is before us, why not let me adjust a couch for you to sleep?”

“Sleep! As if I could sleep at such a time as this! I had all I needed last evening when in prison.”

It will be remembered that Captain Guzman and Martella were seated at the bow, facing those at the stern. Thus the moonlit river beyond was in clear view, and the sombre, motionless form of the tugboat could be made out where it snuggled against the southern bank. The deserter was speaking in low tones to the Captain, when he uttered an exclamation which caused the officer to turn his gaze to the rear.

That which the former fireman saw was a number of sparks mingling with the heavy vapor that was beginning to tumble out of the smokestack. The next moment both saw that the craft was heading out into the river.

“General Yozarro and his officers have returned!” called Martella; “the firemen are cramming the furnace with wood; they mean to pursue us!”

Jack Starland and his sister looked behind them. The Atlamalcan had spoken the truth. The time seemed much too short for the party to have made the journey to the Castle and back. In fact, it was impossible for them to have done so, but there could be no doubt that they were all on the tugboat. The explanation instantly flashed upon Martella.

“Captain Navarro suspected the truth some time after we left and hurried to take us to the Castle again. Some news may have reached him, or his own sense told him of my trick. He met the General on the way.”

Such undoubtedly was the fact. Had our friends suspected aught of that nature, they would not have frittered away the precious minutes as they had done.

Meanwhile, the resinous wood flung into the furnace of the tugboat was doing its work. From the single smokestack poured the murky vapor, sprinkled with crimson sparks which were tossed right and left high in air, to drop hissing into the water. In the moonlight, a snowy winrow at the bow showed that the tug was plowing ahead with fast increasing speed. Capable of making a dozen miles an hour, she was already doing her best, and coming up with the sailboat hand over hand.

Only a few minutes were given the fugitives in which to decide what to do. A straight away race was hopeless, for the pursuer, now no more than an eighth of a mile distant, was sure to overhaul them in a very brief time.

“I am inclined to let General Yozarro come up with us,” said the Major; “I have no fear of his molesting me or Miss Starland, and I am rather curious to hear what he has to say for himself. We are in our own boat, or at least not in his, and we have committed no crime against the Atlamalcan Republic, whatever that name means.”

“You must not think for an instant of such a thing,” said his sister with great earnestness.

“Why not? Do you hold him in fear?”

“No; but he will take vengeance upon Martella, who has served us so faithfully.”

“Great heavens! I never thought of that; and he will be as merciless with Captain Guzman for having helped Martella.”

“And with you for crossing his path.”

“With me! I long for a meeting with him; but, Captain,” added the American, raising his voice; “it will not do for you and Martella to be on board when General Yozarro overtakes us.”

“I think you are right,” replied the Captain; “the General and I have never loved each other, and even General Bambos would not object strongly if it is proposed to shoot me for aiding an Atlamalcan to desert from his navy.”

Martella said nothing, but no one understood the situation better than he.

“I will head the boat for the southern shore, where you two can look out for yourselves.”

“I am afraid you will not have the time to reach it.”

“It must be done!”

The American had pushed the tiller sharply round, and the boat was speeding diagonally for the bank. The change of course gave her a fairer wind, but the tug was coming up so fast that it looked as if she must head off the fugitives. Full steam had been put on, and our affrighted friends, when they looked back, saw the tumbling foam at the bow, the spreading wake streaming fanlike to the rear, and the dark figures crowding forward, amid whom it was easy to believe they discerned the form of General Yozarro cursing the engineer for not attaining better speed.

“If we cannot make it,” said Martella to the Captain, “we must jump over and swim.”

“We cannot swim any faster than we are going now, and the water abounds with enemies.”

“None is so treacherous as Yozarro; I at least will try it; I can let myself over softly and make so long a dive that perhaps he will not notice me.”

“Wait a few minutes, Martella, for I do not like your plan.”

The brief interval decided the question. It seemed that the sailboat might touch land before the pursuer could interpose to head them off. Martella decided to take his chances with the others.

The tug was now so near that Yozarro called:

“Stop or we’ll blow you out of the water!”

“Blow and be hanged!” called back Major Jack; “if you fire on an American citizen, your nuisance of a republic will be wiped off the earth.”

“You have a deserter with you; I demand his surrender.”

Therein shone the cunning of General Yozarro. If an American was fired upon in Atlamalcan waters for carrying off a deserter, it was little satisfaction our citizen would be able to obtain. Without hesitation, Major Starland shouted:

“We have the man; come and get him!”

CHAPTER XXVII

General Yozarro’s red-hot temper burst into uncontrollable flame, and he committed a blunder which allowed the game to flit when it was within his grasp. To the consternation of every one, he gave an instant order to fire upon the sailboat. The officers protested, but the Dictator was irrestrainable. He hurried down from the upper deck and ordered two sailors to train the gun at the front on the little craft. The better to accomplish this, he shouted to the Captain to slacken speed, so as not to distract the aim of the gunners.

For a minute or two Major Starland could not believe what he heard, but the movements on board the tug left no doubt of the frightful purpose of the raging creature on the larger boat. Holding the tiller steady and keeping the head of the small craft straight toward shore, the Major said to his sister:

“If they hit us, it will be by accident; you would better stoop your head.”

She instantly obeyed and he leaned forward himself, so as to offer as small a target as possible. Captain Guzman and Martella sat motionless, watching the tug rushing down upon them and ready to leap ashore the instant they came within reach.

All a-tremble with the intensity of his rage, General Yozarro stood to the rear and beside the six-pounder whose muzzle was pointed toward the little boat. He measured with his eye when the right instant came, and snapped the lanyard. A spout of smoke and flame shot from the muzzle and the boom rolled across the river and was echoed from the further shore, as the solid missile sped on its errand.

Barely more than a hundred yards separated the two craft, when the explosion came. General Yozarro had aimed to sink the other boat, reckless of the lives he sacrificed. It may have been and it probably was because he took the best aim he could, that the ball missed the catboat by twenty feet and crashed harmlessly into the jungle beyond.

The delay caused by the slackening speed of the tug gave our friends the chance they were prompt to use. Not the slightest change had been made in the course of the craft, whose prow the next moment impinged sharply against the shore, and Captain Guzman and Martella sprang out. Instead of running away, however, they seized the gunwale and tugged to draw the bow up the bank.

Grasping the hand of his sister, Major Starland dashed after them. They had the length of the boat to travel, but quickly did it and joined their friends on land.

“Why do you dally?” he called angrily; “if you wait another minute, you will be taken! Off with you!”

“Fret not about us,” was the gruff response of Martella; “attend to the Señorita, and we’ll look after ourselves.”

The great fear in the minds of all was that General Yozarro would fire the rear gun. It would take a few minutes to bring it to bear, and, although neither he nor his men knew how to aim to hit, an accident might result in harm. The passing seconds were of measureless value.

But, before the tug could veer, a gleam of returning reason came to the ruffian. He had done an outrageous thing, but providentially without evil consequences. It would not do for him to repeat the crime. He might claim, as doubtless he meant to claim, that the first shot was fired as a warning to bring the smaller craft to, though in all his life he never tried harder to destroy and kill.

He shouted to the Captain to head for land, and the officer did so with a skill born of experience. In rounding to, he narrowly missed smashing the smaller boat.

Now, through one of those coincidences which occur oftener in this life than is supposed, the catboat had touched shore at the opening of a clearly-marked trail, leading into the interior. It was pure chance or providence, for even Martella knew nothing of the path, which was one of many that wound down to the river. It was his intention to plunge into the jungle with no other thought than that of immediately finding a hiding place for his friends and himself, when he happened upon the path. Yielding to impulse, he called out the fact and told the others to follow, as he hurried up the slight incline.

But a few paces told him this would never do, for their pursuers would be right behind them. He abruptly stopped.

“We must turn off,” he said, “and let them pass us.”

“They may not do so,” suggested Starland.

“They will not know where to look for us.”

He began picking a course among the matted vegetation, unmindful of the dangers that might threaten. Miss Starland went next, then her brother, and then Captain Guzman. They penetrated no more than twenty feet, when, at a whispered word from Martella, all halted, and, as they had done earlier in the evening, watched for their pursuers to pass. In this instance, however, the path was so screened that nothing could be seen, and our friends depended wholly upon their sense of hearing.

Less than ten minutes elapsed between the landing of the two parties. General Yozarro was the first to set foot on shore, and, noting the trail, he started up it on a lope, with the others hurrying after him. Their footsteps were heard by the crouching fugitives, who were unable to see a single shadowy form.

“How long will they keep that up?” asked Major Starland when the last had gone by.

“Not long,” answered Captain Guzman; “they know the Señorita cannot travel fast, and that, if we took the trail, they must quickly come up with us.”

“Failing to overtake us, what will they do next?”

But for the darkness, the Captain would have been seen to shrug his shoulders. It was the deserter who spoke:

“They can do nothing but wait.”

“Martella, I am now ready to join you in capturing the tugboat.”

“Esta buena! Esta buena!” whispered the delighted fellow; “it makes no difference, if there is more risk, for we do not know how many they have left behind.”

“Hang the risk! Lead on!”

In his eagerness, Martella took no pains to hide the noise of tearing through the jungle, and the next moment they emerged into the trail again. The Major had already instructed his sister to stay at the rear, with the Captain directly in front of her. There was likely to be sharp fighting, and she must keep out of it.

“When we rush aboard, remain on the bank till I call to you.”

She promised to do as told, and the three men, their heads bent forward, went down the trail at the double quick, she readily keeping pace with them. The brief distance was quickly passed, and the three drew together on the edge of the river, just within the shadow.

“The Captain is in the pilot house,” whispered Martella, indicating the figure of a man who had seated himself; “but I don’t think there are any others beside the engineer and firemen.”

“Leave the Captain to me,” said the American, who sprang into the moonlight and led the way up the gang plank with the two at his heels. In his left hand was his rifle and in his right his revolver.

CHAPTER XXVIII

In his haste General Yozarro had given no orders to secure the tugboat in place, nor was there need of doing so. The water was deep enough to permit the craft to lie against the bank, where it was held by the gentle turning of the screw. With a few more vigorous revolutions, the prow would have gouged into the bank, or taken the boat into the river on the proper direction of the wheel.

Running across the gangplank, with a firearm in each hand, Major Starland bounded up the few steps leading to the upper deck. The Captain of the boat was seated in the pilot house, calmly smoking a cigarette while he waited. His gaze being turned dreamily toward the river, he saw nothing of the intruder, or, if he heard his footsteps, he was not disturbed. His awakening came, when the athletic American strode forward and thrust a revolver through the window of the pilot house.

“Do as I tell you and you won’t be hurt; try to do different and I’ll blow your brains out!”

These words, uttered in Spanish, were to the point. Without them, the action of the officer would have made his meaning clear. The Captain was cooler and braver than any of his countrymen. He did not stir, but looking into the face of the other, removed his cigarette and said:

“I shall be pleased, Señor, to be told in what way I can serve you.”

“You shall learn in a moment; at present continue smoking, and hold yourself ready for orders.”

He bowed and with a smile that showed his even white teeth, replied:

“I am happy to do as you say.”

“Are you armed?”

“I am the Captain of this boat; General Yozarro does not allow me to attend to any other duty; I have no weapon on me; would you prefer to search me?”

“I accept your word.”

The Major turned to look for Guzman and Martella. The sound of voices showed that they were on the boat.

“Warrenia,” he called, “come aboard!”

She was alert and moved quickly up the plank.

“Now, Captain, steam out into the river.”

“Pardon me, do you not wish the gangplank drawn in?”

“We have no time; do not wait.”

The Captain was on his feet, one hand resting on a spoke of the wheel, while the other gripped the curved piece of brass, which being drawn upward twice sent an order to the engineer to back the boat. Major Starland stood listening with some misgiving, for he did not know how things had gone below. The response, however, indicated that all was well, for almost on the instant, the screw began churning, and the boat slowly receded, allowing the gangplank, after being drawn askew, to drop with a splash into the water.

Knowing the purpose of their leader, Guzman and Martella had hurried into the engine room, where Valentin Herrera, the engineer, was found dozing. The place was smotheringly hot, and below, the firemen were asleep, so used to it that they would have slumbered in tophet itself.

There was consternation for a moment, but it did not take the visitors long to impress upon the men that the boat had been captured and that their lives depended upon their prompt acceptance of the changed conditions.

“How many are with you?” asked the engineer, who knew his former fireman so well that he did not feel much personal fear of him.

“Enough to hold you all at our mercy.”

“You know Captain Ortega is in the wheelhouse.”

“Major Starland has attended to him.”

“I have heard no pistol shot.”

“The Captain is a wise man and has surrendered; Valentin, I want to make General Yozarro angrier than before,” added Martella with a grin.

“He cannot be any angrier than he has been ever since I gave him your message; but I accept the situation. He cannot condemn his men for being overpowered when he leaves them no weapons with which to fight. You needn’t fret about the firemen or me – ”

Just then the gong clinked in response to the switching in the pilot house above.

“That means go back.”

“I wouldn’t wait, Valentin; our leader, elAmericano, is impatient, and is quick to use the revolver he carries.”

“It is my duty to obey orders,” commented the engineer, with another grin, as he made the necessary shifting of cranks and levers to set the machinery to plunging and swinging. The drowsy firemen cared little for what was going on over their heads and slouchily threw wood into the furnace.

“It is my wish to go to Zalapata,” Major Starland explained to the Captain of the tug; “General Yozarro set out to take my sister there last night, but seems to have changed his mind, for he brought her only part way. We will now complete the journey.”

“At the highest speed, Señor?”

The American did not catch the significance of this question, but accidentally he made the best answer.

“There is no haste necessary; we shall be able to reach there soon after sunrise; you know how fast to go; am I understood?”

“Perfectly, Señor.”

Feeling himself master of the craft, Starland now went back into the Captain’s cabin to see his sister, whom he found seated in the quarters which had been occupied by her and the Señorita Estacardo the evening before. Although this species of craft are not intended to carry passengers, outside the necessary equipment, General Yozarro had caused the small compartment to be fitted up and furnished suitably for the entertainment of guests. The swinging lamp was lighted overhead, and the bottles, glasses and fragments of cigarettes showed how the Dictator and his friends had spent most of the time in coming from Atlamalco.

Miss Starland was flustered and nervous, but the cool self possession of her brother greatly reassured her.

“That was a clever trick we played upon the scamp,” said he with a smile.

“What do you intend to do with the boat?”

“Take you to Zalapata; it would serve him right if I scuttled it, but I will turn it over to Bambos to keep or destroy as he pleases – ”

She was about to speak, when shouts and calls caused both to hurry outside. As might have been anticipated, General Yozarro and his party had speedily returned and had halted on the edge of the river, the President shouting his orders for Captain Ortega to return at once. The Major, standing beside the pilot house, could not deny himself the pleasure of answering for the other.

“The Captain is under my orders; he cannot obey you.”

“That is my boat!” howled General Yozarro; “return at once or suffer the consequences of your thievery.”

“I’ll suffer the consequences, but I am only borrowing it for a little while; you did not seem to be able to deliver Miss Starland to Zalapata, and I will do it myself; I place at your disposal the small boat we left behind.”

“I shall make known your crime to your government,” shouted the Dictator, for nothing better to say.

“I shall be glad; perhaps it would be better to lay it before The Hague Tribunal. The whole world will be interested in learning what a cowardly wretch calls himself President of the Atlamalcan Republic.”