Roger the Bold: A Tale of the Conquest of Mexico

"'Tis the dog of a white giant," said the gunner who trained the piece. "Stand back, while I blow him to atoms!"

He waved his comrades to one side and squinted along the sight. Then he raised his head and peered over the side.

"The breeze comes stronger," he said with a husky laugh, "and maybe the gun will not be required. But I will try. I would give a gold doubloon to be able to strike the head from that fellow."

Once more his eye went to the piece, and he adjusted the aim minutely. Then he touched the vent with his port-fire and sprang away. There was a roar, a spout of smoke and flame flew from the brigantine's side, and a shot hummed over the craft in which Roger stood.

"A close ball," he remarked with a laugh. "The Spaniards have singled us out and hope to sink us. But we shall be there before they can repeat the attempt. Warn the men to be ready."

Teotlili did as he was asked, and then stood beside his friend, both watching the gunner aboard the brigantine. By now they were much closer, and it was possible to make out his figure distinctly, and even to see his features.

"A face which I have good cause to know," exclaimed Roger, suddenly, staring at the enemy. "That is Alvarez, the traitor who stole the golden sign and afterwards nearly stabbed me to death. There is added reason for capturing that vessel. Urge the rowers on, Teotlili. Time is of the utmost importance."

Time was, in fact, of more than the utmost importance. Every minute brought added freshness to the wind, and the brigantines, which a little while before had lain there rolling lazily, were now running free, and churning up a salt wave at their bows. It became no longer a race, for the Spaniards now bore down upon the fleet of Mexican canoes; but it was simply a question of where the combatants would meet, and whether the canoes would be able to grapple with the enemy.

"We shall be stove in and sunk at once," said Peter; "and now it is too late to retire. Better give orders to all to seize the vessel and abandon this."

"Whereby we shall make sure of her capture," exclaimed Roger. "A good thought, Peter, and the order shall be given. Tell all the crew to spring for the rail and fight their way on to the deck, Teotlili. Let them desert this craft, for it will be useless. Ah! the distance grows less. That ruffian is about to fire."

He pointed to the bows of the brigantine, to the figure posted there, now without doubt that of Alvarez. He was peering over the rail again, waiting for the craft to come to closer quarters, and the smoke of his port-fire could be seen as he blew upon it.

"For the god of air!" he shouted out, catching sight of Roger and waving the brand. "This will send him quicker to his end than would the stroke of a dagger. One minute and he and his men will be blown from the water."

He shook his fist at the approaching canoe, and then bent to his sights again.

"Put us over a little," said Roger, quietly, touching Peter's arm to attract his attention. "Now, Teotlili, let the men stop rowing."

Paddles were at once drawn from the water, while the way on the craft allowed her to be steered to one side. She shot to the left, while the brigantine held on her course. Almost at the same moment Alvarez blew on his port-fire again and applied it to the vent, sending a charge of small shot tearing through the air, to strike the surface of the lake within a few feet of the canoe.

"Row, and put us over again," shouted Roger. "That is right. She will strike us within a minute, and we must climb. Put her nose up as the brigantine gets close, and then she will not roll us over."

There was a moment of confusion while the orders were carried out. But Peter was an excellent seaman, and had been in dangerous work before. He held his tiller firmly, beckoned to the rowers to give a few strokes with their paddles, and then, just as the stem of the brigantine bore up for the broadside of the craft, he put his helm over again, causing the enemy's vessel to sail smoothly alongside.

"Aboard her! Cling to her rails," shouted Roger, springing to that side of the canoe and leaping for the deck of the brigantine. He was followed by every man aboard, and ere a minute had passed some fifty natives were hanging to the brigantine – some half upon the deck, while others merely retained a grip of the rail. As for their canoe, it swung round till the stern was caught by the brigantine, which happened to roll at that instant. The impact caused the Mexican craft to crumple up as if she had been made of paper, and before anyone could have thought it possible it had gone to the bottom. It was a desperate situation for the attackers, and all recognized that victory must be won if they wished to live. One by one they scrambled on to the deck, though a few were flung off by the Spaniards. But the latter had been taken by surprise at the sudden manœuvre of the Mexicans, and before they could dash along to that side, Roger and Peter and Philip stood firmly upon the deck, with some forty natives beside them.

"Charge before they can use their muskets and crossbows!" shouted Roger. "St. George! St. George! Follow to the stern."

His sword was held firmly in his hand, and he had long ago donned his steel cap. With that to protect him, and a thickly padded cotton jerkin over his chest, he flung himself upon the astounded Spaniards recklessly, his eye searching for Alvarez. Men opposed him, and dashed at him with their swords. But he hardly seemed to notice. His deft blade put the thrusts and cuts aside, while his furious blows cut his assailants down. One man even discharged a musket in his face, the bullet tearing over his head, while the flames from the discharge singed his hair. But Roger hardly noticed the incident, for at that very moment he had caught sight of the crafty Alvarez standing in rear of his comrades, where he had run from the bows.

"Ah, Alvarez the traitor!" he shouted scornfully, while the Spaniard glared at Roger like a tiger. "Alvarez the traitor, who took us all in and deceived us. Well, within a minute I shall be with you, and then there shall be payment of my debt. Let every one who comes within reach of that man secure him alive, for I want him. And be sure to take him with the satchel which he wears beneath his arm."

Roger's quick eye had seen the same bag in which he had brought the golden sign ashore now secured over Alvarez's shoulder, and doubtless containing the coveted disc – the plaque which held the secret of the Mexican treasure, and which, if he could only secure it, would lead to an immense reward for himself and the expedition; that is, supposing he and his comrades escaped from Mexico, which was not at all certain. In the meanwhile they had their hands sufficiently full, for as they fought on the deck of the Spanish brigantine, the other vessels sailing beneath the flag of Castile bore down upon them, churning their way through a mass of canoes, which were swamped for all the world as though they were but tiny shells. None of the Mexican craft could withstand these heavy vessels – not even those constructed by Peter Tamworth. The huge prows of the brigantines crashed into them and bore them down, rolling them and their freight over, and sending the canoes to the bottom. The natives, however, could swim like fish, and while numbers made vain attempts to clamber aboard the brigantines, others swam to their comrades or turned for the long swim home. But they had to contend with more than water alone, for as the brigantines ran, the Spanish plied the enemy with their guns, using small shot, one of which was sufficient to wreck a canoe, while broadsides often slew fifty and more of the unfortunate Mexicans. Then the crossbow-men aboard turned to the brigantine on which Roger and his friends fought, sending their shafts amongst them.

"Tell some of our men to keep down that fire," gasped Roger, halting for a moment and turning to Teotlili. "Now, Peter and Philip, one more effort and we will drive these Spaniards out into the lake. Shoulder to shoulder, and bring up some of the natives with the lances. We will make a capture, and will take this fellow Alvarez; for see, the disc is hanging to his shoulder."

They gathered into a close body again, and at a shout from our hero advanced along the deck at a run. The Spaniards opposed them stubbornly, but the lances kept the swordsmen well away, while the crossbows held the fire from the nearest brigantines. And while the lances hampered the enemy, Roger and his two comrades, together with a number of the Mexicans who were armed with their obsidian swords, dashed into close quarters, and struck fiercely at their opponents. There was a desperate mêlée, a struggle, the fate of which hung in the balance, and a conflict at which Alvarez the traitor stared as if he were dumfounded. He was cornered. He saw before him men who were determined to win, and men, moreover, who had a personal enmity for himself. He remembered his treachery – the dastardly blow which he had struck at the young giant fighting in the very centre of the ship's deck, and he trembled now for the consequences. He stood with the port-fire still smouldering in his hand, and a look of terror on his face. Then seeing his comrades slowly giving way, he dived below and disappeared for a moment.

"He is a coward at heart," shouted Roger, who had kept an eye on him. "He has slunk below the deck, and there we shall find him. Now, one rush and we shall have the craft."

"He has come up again. What devil's trick is he playing?" suddenly exclaimed Philip. "See him; he has something in his hand! He is laying a train!"

"And will blow the brigantine up! The villain!" shouted Roger. "Let us get to him before he can apply the match."

They made frantic efforts to come at Alvarez, and their terrific blows forced the enemy back. Then Roger rushed like a maddened bull into the very centre of the Spaniards, and with a shout of consternation they gave way and ran to the stern. But they were not allowed to pause there, for the Mexicans were now fully roused. The lances were levelled, and the natives came at a run full tilt at their enemies. It was a desperate situation for the Spaniards. They had to choose between death from those lances and the swords of the Englishmen, or a leap into the lake and the possibility of being rescued by their friends or of being taken by the enemy.

"Jump!" shouted Alvarez; "they shall not have the vessel. Jump! I have made a train ready and will fire it. Now overboard, every man of you."

He glanced along the deck, gave Roger a look which spoke volumes, and which threatened unutterable reprisals, and then blew on his match.

"We will send their god of air higher than he had hoped," he shouted with a derisive laugh. "We will send him to the skies, and in little pieces. Farewell, Roger de Luce, one-time lieutenant aboard the brigantine, and now Roger the Cacique, lord of Mexico. We shall not meet again."

The lances were within four yards of him when he thrust the match into the black train trailing across the deck. But even then his coolness and determination did not desert him. He pushed in the glowing end and waited till the grains commenced to splutter. Then he tossed the brand full at Roger, and setting the example to his men, leaped over the side, the Spaniards following instantly, tumbling into the lake with a series of loud splashes, and with loud shouts to attract the attention of their comrades. As for the attackers, the Mexicans hardly realized what was happening, for they were unacquainted with the powers of gunpowder, and even then, after their conflicts with the Spaniards, did not know how the thunder of their guns was produced, nor the means by which the ball was driven. They stared over the side, therefore, while the crossbow-men sent their shafts at the swimmers. And there they would have remained, deafening the air with their shouts of triumph, had it not been for their leader. Roger bounded forward and leaped at the spluttering train, hoping to put out the fire with his foot. But it ran as swiftly as a man could travel, and as he reached the black and smoking line which it had left, he saw that it was already descending the rough ladder which led below, and was racing over the piece of canvas on which Alvarez had laid it. Beyond, in the darkness, which the flashes of the powder helped to lighten spasmodically, was the faint outline of a barrel.

"The powder! We are dead men if we do not leap overboard!" he shouted. Then he seized Teotlili and dragged him to the side.

"Tell all to leap at once for their lives," he said. "Come, Philip, Peter, and every one. We will capture Alvarez in the water."

There was not a moment to be lost, and therefore, without another glance at those aboard, he flung himself into the water, and swimming beneath the surface as far as possible, rose at length when he was forced to do so by the need of air. At the same instant there was a deafening explosion, the brigantine split into fragments, while her deck and spars, together with some dozen of the unhappy natives, were flung into the air with terrific force, the débris descending within a few seconds, and splashing into the lake. Roger trod water and looked vainly for Alvarez. But he was nowhere to be seen. Then he turned to look for Peter and Philip, to find them close behind him.

"The enemy are being picked up by that brigantine," gasped Philip, pointing to one which was close at hand. "We had better move away, or they will take us prisoners."

"Or shoot us down with their shafts," spluttered Peter, who was no great swimmer. "Better get aboard one of the canoes."

"We must do so at once," answered Roger. "Alvarez must escape for the time, but I know that he is with the enemy now, and that he has the disc. Let him wait, for I will take him yet, and make him pay for his treachery. Ah, here is Teotlili."

"My lord, I have whistled for one of the larger craft. Let us get aboard and be gone. It would be well to signal to all to retire. The brigantines are too strong for us."

The Mexican noble trod water vigorously, and waved his arm. At the signal one of the larger craft dashed up at a brisk pace, for the sails had been hoisted again, and very soon she had taken the swimmers aboard. Then Roger had an opportunity of seeing how the battle went, and realized that Teotlili had spoken correctly. For the brigantines would have conquered even if they had had no armed men aboard, and merely sufficient to man the ropes and the tiller. The breeze had freshened, and the surface of the lake was now driven into little waves, on which the canoes danced up and down. And through the water came the brigantines, handled by men who knew their work well. They came down upon the line of canoes, and plunged through and through them, upsetting them, crashing their timbers, and sending them to the bottom. Then they wheeled, and came back again, spreading shot and crossbow shafts amongst the swimmers and those on the canoes. Nothing could withstand them, and though Roger and his friends made another gallant attempt to board one of the enemy, they failed, a cannon-shot stripping their craft of its free-board, and causing it to sink. Once more he was thrown into the water, and with difficulty was picked up by another of the craft made up of several canoes.

"Better turn our faces to Mexico," said Teotlili, who possessed wonderful vitality. "All is lost here, my lord, while there we can still fight. The ships are too strong for us."

Roger reluctantly admitted the fact, and at once the shrill whistle, the signal for retreat, sounded across the lake. The canoes turned about, and men laboured at the oars to get away from the enemy. But the breeze that day was unfriendly to the Mexicans. It filled the sails of the brigantines, till the vessels heeled with the pressure, while they came through the water with a big foaming wave at their cutwaters. Their pace easily enabled them to come up with the flying canoes, and once again they ploughed through them, sinking them and killing or drowning the occupants. It was a disaster, and Roger was not to escape from it so easily. For Alvarez had never lost sight of him.

"That is the craft," he bellowed in the ear of the commander of the brigantine on which he had taken refuge. "There is their god of air, the Mexican cacique hailing from England. Follow the canoe, and you will win honour for all of us. Cortes will give you promotion and a special reward."

He raced to the bows and stood there staring out at Roger, shaking his fist at him, and aiming a musket at his figure as often as possible.

"We shall be overwhelmed before we can return to the city," said Teotlili, after a little while. "They sail so swiftly that even we cannot get away. I fear that all will perish."

"Then let us strike off this course and make for the northern shore," exclaimed Roger, standing to his full height and surveying the terrifying scene. "We have drifted close in there during the battle, and a half-hour's run will take us to the land. There we can desert the canoes and make overland to the city. Better that than see all perish."

It was, in fact, the only means of saving the occupants of the Mexican fleet, which had put out with such confidence from the city, and at a signal from Teotlili all turned their prows towards the shore. And now, for the very first time on this disastrous day, fortune smiled upon the Mexicans. For it happened that the shore on this northern side of the lake shelved very gradually – so much so that within a little while the fleet was fleeing over a portion of the lake where the water was very shallow. The brigantines came after them at their swiftest pace, till the foremost came to a gradual stop, and remained fixed in the mud. Then the others lay to, firing with their guns.

"Had all gone ashore we should have had them at our mercy," said Roger, in tones of vexation. "But the attempt would be useless now. They can lie off within easy range, and we should lose heavily. Better make the best of our way home."

"And comfort ourselves with the thought that we have made a brave attempt, and that we have aided in the destruction of one of the vessels," answered Teotlili. "My lord must not be down-hearted. These men who have died on the lake to-day have done service to Mexico, for we cannot always win. We have opposed an enemy of whom we were afraid in former times, and we have shown our men that by using strategy we can capture vessels. May the opportunity not occur later for a second attack? Surely it will be possible, with the knowledge gained this day, to organize an attempt on another occasion. We can lay an ambush for the Spaniards on the water, and perhaps take all these brigantines. Let my lord consider that, and think of the future rather than of what has just happened."

The noble laid his hand on Roger's shoulder, for he saw that the latter was troubled and depressed at the defeat suffered by the fleet. And who can blame Roger for feeling so? The whole responsibility of the affair rested on his shoulders, and as he made for the shore he asked himself over and over again whether he had not been rash – mad, indeed – to make such an attempt.