Roger the Bold: A Tale of the Conquest of Mexico

"It will last for an hour more," said Teotlili. "Then the sun will dispel the clouds, and it will be clear day. Ere that we shall be at the town of a friendly tribe, who live off the road."

An hour later, just as they were about to emerge from a gulley through which the track lay, Roger thought he heard a shout behind him, while the head of their tiny procession came to an abrupt halt.

"Some one is behind us, and the men think that others are in front," whispered Teotlili. "We will wait a few minutes, and then move on. I have sent a scout forward."

They huddled on the track, drawing their feathered cloaks about them, for the morning was a chill one. And as they waited the light steadily increased, till a dull gleam in the east showed the rising sun. Roger was just commenting upon its appearance, when there was a loud shout.

"Tueles!" called out the scout, who had been sent forward. "Spaniards! They have us between them! Fly!"

"The enemy! Spaniards!" explained Teotlili. "Then we must go. Come, my lord, follow me."

There was no time for further argument or explanation, for the voices of the Spanish horsemen could be heard, while the stamping of their horses' hoofs was very audible. Roger drew his sword, and set off after Teotlili, Tamba leading the way. Then a figure suddenly dashed out of the mist, and bore down upon him, lance in hand.

"Halt! Stand, or I run you through!"

The Spanish horseman took our hero for a native, and never imagined that he would understand. But Roger knew the language, fortunately, and as the man came to closer quarters, swung round and leapt suddenly aside. His sword went up over his shoulder, and the blade fell true on the soldier's head, dropping him like a stone. For an instant Roger thought of leaping on the horse, but two other Spaniards put in an appearance. He turned, therefore, and ran as fast as he was able, till a cry of dismay escaped him. He found no ground for his feet, but plunged headlong down the side of the mountain, crashing on to the rocks some feet below. The fall stunned him for a little while, and when at length he was able to understand and look about him, he saw Spaniards guarding their prisoner, while his sword and crossbow had been removed, and his hands lashed firmly together.

"He has recovered. None but one of these dogs could have withstood such a fall," said some one in authority, striding towards Roger and surveying him. "Then we will march and get to safer quarters. Tie the rascal to your stirrup-leather, Juan, and let us be moving. To horse, mount, and away!"

Some fifty troopers obeyed the order. They swung themselves into their saddles, while one of their number hastened to pass a noose round Roger's hands, and attach it to his saddle. Then there was a sharp order, and the cavalcade went at a trot down the pass, clattering their way over the stones and broken ground, and bearing their captive to the camp where dwelt Fernando Cortes. It was a terrible misfortune, and a sad and sudden ending to our hero's rising fortunes.

CHAPTER XIII

A Sentence of Death

"Run quickly, dog, and do not drag so behind," suddenly exclaimed the trooper who had made Roger's leading rope fast to the pummel of his saddle. "There is no need to pull behind as if you were afraid that this beast of mine would stumble and fall. Or perhaps you are fearful of him, like all the other natives. Come, long legs make long paces."

He gave a violent jerk to the rope, which caused the utmost pain. Indeed, Roger had already suffered considerably, for his hands were firmly lashed together, and the slightest pull on them caused him agony. And yet a little pain now might be life for all he knew. For that reason he had steadily dragged on the rope, causing the man to fall behind his comrades.

"Perhaps we shall come to some difficult part," thought Roger, "when I will give a tug and then jump at the horse. A good push, with all my weight behind my foot, might send him rolling over, and kill the rider. It is worth trying, and even if unsuccessful the sudden execution which would follow would only anticipate my fate by an hour or two."

But he affected to be unacquainted with the Spanish language, and still dragged, in spite of the man's words, till suddenly the Spaniard turned in his saddle with a curse and a savage jerk of the rope. He pulled on his rein, and having brought the animal to a stop, vaulted from his saddle, while his comrades pulled up beside him.

"Now, what is the trouble? Why are you delaying?" demanded the officer, fretfully. "Do you not know that we are in the enemy's country, and that a halt may mean capture and more besides?"

He shuddered as he spoke, for even now, when reinforcements of men and horses had come to Cortes, and the campaign was about to be resumed, a dread fear of capture lurked in the minds of all. For that meant a visit to the summit of the huge tower in Mexico, and death on the altar. It was a hideous nightmare to scores of these Spaniards – these adventurers who had by now proved their bravery in many and many an unequal tussle. The very mention of the sacrifice appalled him, though these same men thought nothing of the awful tortures inflicted by their own side, or of the hangings and burnings which were often practised. And this leader of the little band which had captured Roger was one of the many who had fears, only he thought more of the matter perhaps than did others.

"Hasten," he said fretfully. "Do not let us waste a minute that can be saved. Come, Juan, what ails you, man? Why dismount now?"

"To let you or some other fool take the captive," was the cool answer, discipline in the invading army being none of the strictest. "If you are in haste, take the rope and lead this dog yourself while we ride on. I warrant that within a little while your leg will chafe against the rope, and you will find this fellow dragging like a load which is dead. And slowly you will fall behind, till your comrades are well in advance. Then, captain, a push from this captive's shoulder does the work, and you and your steed fall heavily. Mayhap you are killed, and better for you. Mayhap you live, and this dog, having smothered your voice, contrives to free his hands and carry you off. Then – ah, then comes the trouble."

He grinned at his comrades, who enjoyed his subtle joke, and sat their horses, smiling openly; for their leader was a weak and an unpopular man, and they openly derided him.

"Then comes the trouble," repeated Juan, with relish. "The dog smothers you, cuts his bonds, and then whistles to his friends. You are taken, and that very night the Mexicans enjoy a royal feast, to which they invite all friends. Spaniards are rare morsels, captain, and a leader of Spaniards a dainty bit which will not meet with refusal."

There was a shout, while the leader stamped angrily on the ground, gnawing at his moustache in his annoyance. His face was flushed, and it was clear that he was thoroughly angry. But beyond that, in his heart of hearts these words brought terror to his mind; for the Mexican custom was not only to offer prisoners before the altars, but to roast and eat the bodies, the captor being given this special privilege.

"Cease your chatter!" he exclaimed wrathfully, "and let us move on. What caused you to halt?"

"The prisoner and the rope," was the smooth answer. "The dog has attempted to do what I spoke of; he was gradually pulling me back. But I will make an end of the matter. See here!"

He had been busily loosening the rope from the pummel of his saddle, and now that it was free he took the slack in his hand, and, grasping it firmly, jerked on it with such force that Roger turned suddenly, the pain causing him to twist round.

"See here, dog of a Mexican, I have no desire to make the feast for thy tables, and, so that you may not attempt to take me, will have a new arrangement. Drive a pig, not lead one, is the right motto, and that shall be my plan. I will drive you, and will hold this lance at your back so that you may have sharp reminder should you feel disposed to fall back. Now, on to your place, and, remember, fall back at your peril."

Again he jerked the rope, but Roger affected not to understand, and made no movement till the soldier took him roughly, and by dint of signs accompanied by many an oath, intimated to him what was to happen.

"Recollect," he said again, in his fierce voice, staring into his captive's face till Roger could have killed him – "recollect, behind there is a lance which has run through many a Mexican dog, and would pierce you as if you were made of paper."

"Come, come, gently, Juan!" exclaimed the officer, still scowling in his anger. "Even if he is a dog of a Mexican, treat him fairly and well, for it may happen that I shall have to report. His Honour, Fernando Cortes, generalissimo in this country, sent me here for a certain purpose, namely, to capture the giant who was leading the Mexicans, and of whose journey his spies had given him information. Well, I have succeeded, but if one of my men should spoil that success, if he should kill when the order was 'bring the dog alive,' then perhaps even I could not save your neck from the rope."

It was an excellent counter-thrust, and Juan scowled and swore under his breath with a heartiness never even exceeded by a British sailor. As for his comrades, though they did not favour their captain, still they could enjoy a joke, and they roared at the expense of their comrade.

"We will come and look on. We will encourage you and keep up your courage till the noose pulls tight," laughed one, in a husky whisper.

"Silence! Let us be going," ordered the captain. "Lead us, Juan, and we will see that you are secure."

They set out again down the side of the mountain, Roger in advance. All his plans were thus destroyed, and he ran on moodily, wondering where he would be taken to and how long he would be allowed to live.

"Rescue will be attempted; of that I am sure," he said to himself, by way of comfort. "Teotlili and the Mexican lords will never allow me to perish without making an attempt, for there is no doubt that they look up to me as to one of their hateful deities. How strange it all is, and how my father's eyes would open were he here to see and know all that has happened."

How strange, indeed, that he, a simple crossbow youth, should now be virtually ruler of Mexico; for his lightest word was obeyed, and Guatemozin and his lords deferred every question to him. Indeed, had Roger desired it, he could have been elected as king, the rightful lord taking place as his minister. But he declined the suggestion made by the priests. In any case, he occupied a position which his wildest fancies had never attained to; and if he were successful, then there would be wealth on his return home, and even honour, for had he not already won praise and promotion on the brigantine?

"Halt! What is the report?"

The cavalcade had come to the base of the hill, and had met some three hundred natives, allies of the Spaniards. One of these lifted his hand to signal the horsemen to stop, and then advanced with an interpreter.

"There is huge commotion in the country," he said. "Since early morning men have been hurrying to and fro, and some cross the track between this and Tlascala. You must ride faster if you wish to pass there in safety."

"Then mount the prisoner. Let the lightest man take him."

"And get his throat cut for his pains," growled Juan, as he prepared to free the rope.

"But no. We want a strong man, above all," suddenly added the captain. "Juan, I think you lay claim to strength, for I have heard you challenge any of your comrades to combat with you. You shall still hold the captive. Put him behind you, facing about, and we will surround you."

The task was not an enviable one, and Juan made his preparations for it with a very ill grace, while a sinister smile played about the corners of his leader's face. However, delay was to be avoided if they wished to reach their quarters in safety, and very soon Roger was astride the horse, his ankles lashed together, while a rope was passed about his waist, securing him to Juan. The troop got in motion again, and, breaking into a canter – a movement which made riding comfortable and easy for our hero – bore straight across the open towards a distant town, that of Tlascala, where Cortes then resided, and where his brigantines were in course of construction. An hour later, as the party approached a little closer, and the wall which surrounded the town became clearly visible, some three hundred dark figures burst from a ravine a little to the left, and raced towards the horsemen, uttering shrill whistles and shouts. Roger turned his head, and thought he saw Teotlili at their head, while the dress of the natives proclaimed them as friends and allies of the Mexicans. Then an attempt at rescue was about to be made. His late captors were true to him.

"Gallop! Lances down, and gallop!"

The leader gave the order in high-pitched words, and then took his place at the head of the troop.

"Surround the prisoner; and, Juan, do you lean well forward in the saddle, so as to stretch the prisoner and make movement difficult. Our men will protect you in front, while Pedro will hold his sword handy to slay the dog should he make an attempt to escape or to delay us."

The advice given to Juan was undoubtedly good, for as the Spaniard carried out the movement, Roger found that the lashing about his ankles tautened, while the leaning-back attitude made struggling on his part almost out of the question. Still, he resolved to make an effort if the time came, even if a sword were held in his face. By now the troop was galloping at a sharp pace, the leader having selected a long stretch of open ground favourable to horses, and across this he led them at an angle which slightly inclined towards the Mexicans and their allies. It looked as if all his efforts were concentrated in an attempt to fly past them without giving them battle, and at the thought the natives swerved from their course, and raced to cut off the party. Soon they were so close that Roger could hear their voices, and stirred uneasily, till the man who threatened him with his sword placed the point close to his breast.

"Stir so much as a finger's breadth and I thrust the blade home," he growled, while he looked askance at the enemy. "One hand's breadth, remember!"

"Give us our god of air! Halt, and hand him over, when you may go free!" came a ringing voice from the natives.