Roger the Bold: A Tale of the Conquest of Mexico

"It gives the outline of the great city of Mexico, on the Terra Firma, but lately discovered by Fernando Cortes."

"Mexico! Mexico!" They repeated the word as if it were some strange charm.

"Mexico, the great city built within the borders of a lake, the home of vast riches," said Alvarez. "This plan marks the treasury, and, it is said, was kept secret by Fernando. It is also said that he sent the relic to Ferdinand of Spain, but that it was captured by the English. Then came news, so report says, that the ambassador from our country sent word of an intended sailing, and that a ship arrived at Cuba a week after the fight in which you beat my countrymen, those who were my comrades, but who now are enemies. But this Fernando had heard the tale of the capture, and for that reason a watch was set on the narrow seas about the island of Cuba, and fast vessels stationed there. For England is not wanted here. None of your countrymen are desired, and least of all those who have the golden plaque; for then, were this Mexico reached, and the natives friendly, this treasure, which we of Spain desired, might fall to your lot, for the plaque holds the secret. Yes, it holds the secret, for in the plan is given the whereabouts of the treasury, and none else know of its position save the Mexicans themselves, and Fernando Cortes. He, it is said, was told by some Indian woman, who is skilled in these pictures. But all the others are ignorant."

"And this city?" demanded Sir Thomas, breathlessly. "Where does it lie, and who commands it?"

"'Tis directly west of Yucatan. Make the northern point of that, and then proceed without change of course. As for the commander. The tale came to us at Cuba that Montezuma was king till a little while ago, and that Fernando lodged in the city itself, and held the king as hostage. But he had few men, and was too weak to do more. Also the Mexicans were becoming more and more unfriendly. They wore a threatening look, and it appeared as though this Cortes would be driven out at any time. Whether that has happened I do not know, but I can say that at that time no treasure had come to his hand. This plaque was stolen, I believe, while the other riches were gifts from King Montezuma. Bear me to this part of the Terra Firma, and I promise to aid you in your search for the wealth of Mexico."

"And to hold news of our arrival from your late comrades?" demanded Roger, sternly. "Swear it!"

"I do, most solemnly. I take oath to serve you loyally. Let death be my reward if I fail."

There was silence for a little while, and then the meeting broke up, Sir Thomas trudging the deck in a brown study, while Phil and Roger retired to a favourite spot and sat upon the rail.

"What think you of the tale?" asked our hero presently. "'Tis a cruel thing to send a countryman adrift upon the sea."

"And worse still out in these parts," answered Philip; "for might it not have happened that this boat would drift to some desert island, or, worse, to some island inhabited by unfriendly natives – poor fellows who have already seen and felt the cruelty of the Spaniards. 'Twas a wicked act."

"Then, why send him with food and water?"

For a little while Philip sat looking at his friend, drumming his heels on the deck, while Roger lolled with half-closed eyes.

"Why prolong his agony?" he asked. "Why give him the means to live when death was allotted to him?"

"Because – . Why, you don't think – ?"

"I think nothing," was Roger's curt answer. "I loll upon the deck, enjoying the sun and the motion of the boat, and I think nothing of importance. But I do not sleep, and I watch, or hope to, Philip."

"Then you suspect?"

"Nothing. I have heard the tale, and as I let the points run through my mind, I ask if it appears a natural one, whether it was possible that it happened so. Then I think of what might be gained by a clever ruse, played by a bold and adventurous man. Have we not all heard that those who come to these Indies from Old Spain are the adventurous ones, the men who cannot live quietly at home? And do we not all know the greed for gold, for we ourselves have it? Then, if a man played such a part, and made new friends – "

Philip sat up suddenly. "I never thought of that," he said breathlessly. "If a bold man had purposely sailed from the land, and had lain in wait for us, he could have pretended to be senseless. He could have kept a store of food and drink aboard till we hove in sight, and since our course was to the west, to this Terra Firma, to this New Spain, and all in Cuba knew it, the chances of falling in with us were not so unlikely. Then, under the cover of friendship, and while protesting hatred for these Spaniards, a man might snatch this prize, might use it for his own purposes."

"Or win the reward which has doubtless been offered for it. Yes, Philip, that is how I have thought of the matter; and yet I do not like to suspect this man. It seems unkind and uncharitable. Still, my mind is not easy, and I shall watch. More than that, I shall ask Tamba to do the same. But not a word to the others, for were we to speak, and then prove to be wrong, as seems very likely to be the case, then we should earn the enmity of Alvarez, and have few thanks from Sir Thomas for our pains."

They chatted for a little while, and then strolled away.

"If all is well there will be no suspicion aroused," said Roger. "But if otherwise, this Alvarez will be on the watch. He knows me, for I have acted as interpreter, and he will naturally think that if any one should be suspicious of his tale, I shall be that one. So do not let us be seen with our heads together too often."

Accordingly the two took care to be seldom together, while Roger kept out of the way of Alvarez as much as possible. When he happened to meet him, which was often on such a small vessel, he chatted in a friendly manner, for he determined that nothing on his part should lead the Spaniard to think that he had doubts. And very soon he had his reward; for when the first week had passed Alvarez's manner changed. He saw that all aboard were frank and open with him, and prepared to accept him as a friend, and he lost the air of caution, the watchful manner which he had borne when first he was lifted aboard. Then he joined the men at their meals, and Roger noticed that he listened to their chatter with a crafty smile. He even attempted English, with wonderful success, so much so that when three weeks had passed, and the northern point of Yucatan had been weathered, he could almost understand when spoken to, while his attempts at a response were more than creditable. A week later land was sighted, and preparations made to disembark.

"You will go ashore with Tamba," said Sir Thomas to Roger, "and it would be as well to take this Spaniard with you. Methinks that he has seen the coast hereabouts, for I have watched him leaning over the rail with his eyes on the land. Ask him the question."

"Our leader thinks that you may have been here before, and failed to tell us," said Roger, attracting Alvarez's attention by a touch on the shoulder, and noticing with what a start he listened to him. "Is this the case? Have you been a voyage to this Terra Firma?"

"Never before," was the answer, though Roger could see that he was ill at ease. He was taken unawares, and for a moment had forgotten his fine acting. "These lands are strange to me, but I have listened to tales of them, and I wondered whether I could tell from the appearance of yonder coast to what part we have come. It must be somewhere in the neighbourhood of Vera Cruz, the town which Fernando Cortes was founding when news last came from him."

"Then we will search for it," said Roger. "The commander's orders are that you and I go ashore and search for natives, to give us the direction."

Was there a faint gleam of triumph in the Spaniard's eyes as he heard the news? Roger wondered, and grew more suspicious. Then he turned away, and made preparations for the landing. A few hours later the brigantine brought up within a few hundred yards of a sandy shore, and the boat was lowered. A dozen armed men clambered into it, while Roger and Tamba took their places in the stern, both armed with crossbows and with sword and dagger, for our hero had taken pains to teach the native the use of these weapons. Under one arm, secured in a bag which was slung to his shoulder, he carried the precious golden disc. A minute later Alvarez scrambled down to the boat and took his place beside him.

"Let us pray for success, senor," he said blandly. "Let us hope that natives will be there who can tell us the way to Mexico. The name will be sufficient. Speak it, and if they have heard of the place they will give us the direction."

"Shove off!" shouted the sailor at the rudder, and the boat was at once pushed from the side of the brigantine. A little later her keel slid gently on to the sand, and all sprang into the water and waded ashore. As at the port in Cuba, there were trees here, and Roger at once searched for an inlet amongst them.

"There is one over there," he said, pointing to the right, and speaking in Spanish. "We will go that way and try our fortune. No use to attempt to penetrate the heart of the forest, for natives are not likely to be found there."

"And we shall go alone, senor?" asked the Spaniard, with some trace of anxiety.

"With Tamba," answered Roger. "Lead us, Alvarez, for doubtless you are more used to these forests than are we."

There was a vague, questioning look in the eyes of the Spaniard. His brow was furrowed, and Roger could see that he was thinking. But the man turned on his heel a moment later, and trudged off across the sand, while Roger and Tamba fell in behind, a quick glance passing between them. And in this order they reached the break in the trees and entered the shadow of the forest. Their road took them along the side of a stream, and though they searched for traces of natives, none were to be found. The forest trees came closer, while the ground they traversed became more difficult. They clambered over rocks and fallen trunks, and sometimes were compelled to wade along in the stream.

"We are doomed to disappointment, senor," said the Spaniard, halting at last and wiping the perspiration from his brow. "There are no natives here, and never have been. We waste our breath and our strength, and we run the risk of fever. See how damp the soil is, and how huge the trees. Let us return, and try a path elsewhere."

The request was reasonable, and Roger gladly assented to it. But it happened that at that point the river had narrowed, and chanced to run through a belt of rock, a strip which cropped up in the centre of the forest. Tree trunks grew close on either side, and to return in the same order would have needed an effort; Alvarez would have had to squeeze past our hero, or push his way through the undergrowth.

"Then we will turn and walk as we are till the path widens," said Roger, for one small moment forgetting his caution. And what wonder! It wanted an older man than he, one experienced in life, who had met men of every sort, and had learned to trust but little, to keep up such suspicions. This Spaniard had done nothing to cause trouble. Roger was forced to confess that not once had the details of his story broken down. He had never contradicted himself, though once or twice, when off his guard, his answers had been a little doubtful. Why distrust him? Let him prove his honest intentions.

It was a fatal mistake; but who can set old heads on young shoulders? Roger failed to notice the gleam which came to the Spaniard's eye, failed to watch the triumph written on his face. He turned, and followed Tamba along the rocky bed. There was a movement behind him as Alvarez made ready to follow. Then something pulled gently at our hero's shoulder, a dagger blade cut the strap which secured the golden plaque, while a second movement plunged the blade deep in Roger's shoulder. Not till then had there been a sound. Now, however, there was a shout of astonishment, a sharp cry of pain, and when Tamba turned towards the young Englishman, whom he had learned to look to as his master, Roger lay bleeding in the water, while the figure of the Spaniard was just disappearing amongst the trees of the forest.

CHAPTER VII

The Hand of the Traitor

Alvarez de Logas, the frank and friendly Spaniard, had proved false, had acted worse than dishonourably, for he had stolen the confidence of the crew of the brigantine, and the golden disc at the same time. He was a traitor to his new comrades, and a murderer at heart, for he had struck Roger with his dagger.

"Where am I? What has happened to me, and why are we here in the forest?" asked our hero three days later, when he opened his eyes for the first time since he had received the treacherous stroke. "Is that you, Tamba? Tell me what has happened. I have been dreaming. I thought that we had come to this New Spain, to Terra Firma, and that you and I and – "

He suddenly broke off with a feeble groan, while the native knelt beside him, taking his hand to comfort him.

"I do not understand, my lord," he said. "You speak your own tongue, and forget that I cannot. What are the questions?"

Roger repeated them feebly, while he closed his eyes, for even there the rays of the sun were trying. But Tamba was a discerning nurse, and at once placed a screen of huge leaves, secured to a stake, between the rays and Roger's eyes.

"You were hurt," he whispered. "The treacherous Spaniard proved to be all that you suspected, and he snatched his opportunity. He is gone, and three days have passed since I saw the last of him."

"And he has stolen the golden disc? Then follow! Do not lose another instant. Follow at once, and pursue him till you come up with him. The disc was entrusted to my care, and what am I to say when we return to the brigantine?"

In his dismay he leaned upon his elbow, only to sink again to the soft bed of dried leaves with which the native had provided him, while the latter raised his eyes at the mention of the brigantine.

"I would chase him to the end of the land were I able to do so, master," he said. "But what then would have happened to you? You were feeble. You lay senseless in the water, and the blood poured from your wound. I thought of running after this Alvarez. Then I thought of you, and I said to myself that your life was more valuable to me and to the English than was this disc. I stayed, therefore, and Alvarez is gone. But not for good. Master, when you are strong we shall come up with him, and then – "

Even beneath the brown skin of the native there could be seen a tinge of red colour as the blood rose to his forehead and cheeks, called there by his hatred and indignation. For Tamba was one of those simple fellows, a child of the Cuban forest, with few wants, and few likes and dislikes. His was a faithful nature, which even the cruel whip of the Spanish overseer had been unable to destroy, and where he had placed his faith he kept it. Roger was more than his friend and master, and to see him struck down was an agony to Tamba. Why, then, should he chase after a Spaniard while his lord bled slowly to death? He put aside the idea without a second thought, and on that fatal day promptly set to work to do what was possible. Taking Roger in his arms, he dragged him along the stream to the most suitable open spot, and there he placed him on a soft piece of turf, while he himself sought for roots and herbs, and for something with which to dress the wound. A piece of Roger's clothing had sufficed for the last, and Tamba had been able to stop the bleeding. Then he went to the shore in search of the English soldiers. But they were nowhere to be seen, though the brigantine lay in the offing, her canvas at full stretch, beating out to sea, two Spanish vessels being in close chase of her. It was a terrible blow, and the native hardly knew how to break the news to Roger.

"You were hurt," he ventured gently. "And I could not pursue the traitor while you lay in the stream. You would have been smothered by the water had the bleeding not killed you. So I brought you here, and I built a hut over you while you lay insensible. I am thankful that you are now able to speak."