When Santiago Fell: or, The War Adventures of Two Chums

At four o’clock, utterly worn out, I threw myself on the ground in a little clearing and gave myself up to my bitter reflections. I felt that I was hopelessly lost. Moreover, I was tremendously hungry, with nothing in sight with which to satisfy the cravings of my appetite. Night, too, was approaching. What was to be done?

CHAPTER XIX.

THE CAVE IN THE MOUNTAIN

I lay in the clearing in the valley for all of half an hour. Then, somewhat rested, I arose, unable to endure the thought that night would find me in the wilds alone and unarmed.

I could well remember how the sun had stood when I had separated from my companions, and now, using the sun as a guide, I endeavored once more to trace my steps to the path leading down to the river. Once the stream was gained, I resolved to search up and down its banks until the old convent was sighted.

My course led me up the side of a small mountain, which I climbed with great difficulty, on account of the loose stones and dirt, which more than once caused my ankle to give a dangerous twist. A sprained ankle would have capped the climax of my misfortunes.

Just as the sun was beginning to set behind the peaks to the westward of me, I reached a little plateau which divided a ridge from the mountain proper. Here I rested for a few minutes and obtained a refreshing drink at a spring under some rocks. Then I went on, in some manner satisfied that I was on the right path at last.

But, alas! hardly had I taken a score of steps than I stepped on a bit of ground which appeared solid enough, but which proved to be nothing but a mass of dead brushwood lying over a veritable chasm. The whole mass gave way, and with a lurch I was hurled forward into black space.

As I went down I put out my hands to save myself. But, though I caught hold of several roots and bits of rocks, this did not avail; and I did not stop descending until I struck a stone flooring twenty feet below the top of the opening. Fortunately the floor was covered with a large mass of half-decayed brush, otherwise the fall must have been a serious if not a fatal one.

As I went down, on hands and knees, a lot of loose branches, dirt, and small stones rolled on top of me, and for the minute I had a vision of being buried alive. But the downfall soon ceased; and, finding no bones broken, I crawled from under the load and surveyed the situation.

I felt that I was now worse off than ever. The well-hole – I can call it nothing else – was about ten feet in diameter, and the walls were almost smooth. The top of the opening was far out of my reach, and, as for a means of escape, there seemed to be none.

However, I was not to be daunted thus easily, and, striking a match and lighting a cedar branch, I set about looking for some spot where I might climb up. But the spot did not present itself.

But something else did, and that was an opening leading directly into the mountain. On pulling at a projecting rock, I felt it quiver, and had just time to leap back, when it fell at my feet. Behind the rock was a pitch-black hole, into which I thrust the lighted branch curiously. There was a cave beyond – how large was yet to be discovered.

I had no desire to explore any cave at that moment, my one idea being to get out of the well-hole and proceed on my way. But getting out of the hole was impossible, and I was forced to remain where I was, much to my disgust and alarm.

Jorge had been right about the coming storm. At an hour after sunset I heard the distant rumble of thunder, and soon a lively breeze blew through the trees and brush on the mountain side. A few flashes of lightning followed, and then came a heavy downpour of rain.

Not wishing to be soaked, I retreated to the cave I had discovered, although with caution, for I had no desire to take another tumble into a deeper hole. But the floor of the cavern appeared to be quite level, and with rising curiosity I took up my lighted cedar branch, whirled it around to make it blaze up, and started on a tour of investigation and discovery.

That I should not miss my way back, I lit a pile of small brush at the mouth of the opening. Then I advanced down a stony corridor, irregular in shape, but about fifty feet wide by half as high.

The opening appeared to be a split in the mountain, perhaps made ages before by volcanic action. I felt certain there was an opening above, for in several spots the rain came down, forming small pools and streams of water.

Suddenly the idea struck me to watch which way the water ran, and I did so and learned that its course was in the very direction I was walking. Moreover the tiny streams merged one into another, until, several hundred feet further on, they formed quite a water course.

“If only this stream flows into the main river!” I thought, and on the spur of the moment resolved to follow it as far as I was able, satisfied that if it led to nowhere in particular I could retrace my steps to its source.

I now found the cave growing narrower, and presently it grew less than a dozen feet in width, and the stream covered the entire bottom to the depth of several inches. Throwing my boots over my shoulders, I began wading, feeling sure of one step ere I trusted myself to take another.

It took me fully ten minutes to proceed a hundred feet in this fashion. The stream was now not over six feet wide and all of a foot deep.

Making sure that my torch was in no danger of going out, I continued to advance, but now more slowly than ever, for in the distance I could hear the water as it fell over a number of rocks. There was a bend ahead; and this passed, I fervently hoped to emerge into the open air, on the opposite side of the mountain and close to the bank of the river for which I was seeking.

At the bend the water deepened to my knees, and I paused to roll up my trousers, in the meantime resting the torch against the wall, which afforded a convenient slope for that purpose.

I had just finished arranging my trouser-legs to my satisfaction, when a rumble of thunder, echoing and re-echoing throughout the cavern, made me jump. My movement caused the cedar branch to roll from the rocks, and it slipped with a hiss into the stream. I made a frantic clutch for it, and, in my eagerness to save it from going out or getting too wet, I fell on it in the very middle of the stream.

With a splutter I arose to find myself in utter darkness. Moreover, the cedar branch was thoroughly soaked, and it would take a good many matches to light it again. And what was still worse, every match my pocket contained was soaked as badly as the torch.

I must confess that I was utterly downcast over my mishap, and if there had been any dry ground handy I would have thrown myself down upon it in abject despair. But there was only water around, and, disconsolate as I was, I felt I must either go forward or backward.

How I became turned about I do not know, but certain it is that, in essaying to return to the spot from whence I had come, I continued on down the stream. I did not notice the mistake I had made until fifty yards had been passed and I brought up against an overhanging rock with my shoulder. Putting up my hands, I was dismayed to discover that the passage-way was just high enough to clear my head.

Realizing that I must be walking into a trap, I endeavored to turn about, when I slipped and went down again. Before I could gain my footing I was swept around a bend and into a much broader stream. All was as dark as before, and I soon learned that the bottom of the new water-course was beyond my reach. Putting my hand up, I learned that the rocky ceiling was not over two feet above the surface of the water, and the distance between the two was gradually but surely growing less!

CHAPTER XX.

SEÑOR GUEREZ

I was horrified over the discovery that I had made. Here I was, in absolute darkness, hemmed in by water and rocky walls, and drifting rapidly I knew not whither.

In my terror I cried aloud, but only echo answered me – a peculiar echo which made me shiver from head to foot.

On and on, and still on, was I dashed by the underground current, which seemed to grow more powerful as I advanced, until my head grazed repeatedly against the wall over me, and I felt like giving myself up for lost. Oh, how bitterly I regretted the curiosity which had led me to explore the cavern in which chance had so strangely placed me!

But now what was this – a light? At first I could scarcely believe the evidence of my senses. There was a bright flash – then total blackness again.

What could it mean? Perhaps I was dreaming – or the fearful situation had turned my brain. Then came a second flash and a revelation.

It was the lightning from without, shining through some opening into the waters under and around me! I was nearing the outer world. Oh, for a breath of fresh air again!

Even as the thought crossed my mind, my head struck the rocky ceiling again, and under I went, to find that I could not come up, the water now rising to the very rocks. But a stronger light could be seen, and I dove along, came up once, twice – and then emerged into the open air with a splutter and a gasp, on the verge of exhaustion.

The underground stream emerged at the very base of the mountain, and on both sides were level stretches of swamps, covered with rushes and other tropical growths. Swimming for the nearest bank, I drew myself up and fell on my breast, too worn out to stand.

It did not matter to me just then that it was night, that I was alone, and that it was raining in torrents. I was safe from drowning – that was my one thought, and never was a thought sweeter to a boy.

For fully fifteen minutes I remained on the bank of the stream. Then, having recovered somewhat from the effects of my awful experience, I arose and took as good a view of my situation as was possible. I waited for a strong flash of lightning, and by this saw that my former wish had been realized and that I was within a few hundred feet of the river upon which the convent was said to be located.

While the storm and the night lasted there was nothing to do but to seek shelter wherever it might be found; and, as the lightning now appeared to die away, I walked to the very mountain side, and found shelter under an overhanging rock, flanked by several tall trees. Here I wrung what water I could from my clothing and made myself as comfortable as my miserable condition permitted.

Never was a person more glad to see the sun than I. Old Sol came up clear and strong, and my clothing quickly dried upon my body as I walked along.

Passing around the swamps, which were full of monstrous toads and numerous lizards, I reached the bank of the larger stream and started to hunt for the convent for which Alano, Jorge, and myself had been bound. As I hurried on, as rapidly as the formation of the ground permitted, I could not help but wonder what had become of my chum and our negro guide. Had they escaped, to roam around looking for me, or had they fallen into the hands of the Spaniards at the coffee plantation?

Having had no breakfast, it was not long before I began to feel hungry. To satisfy the cravings of my appetite I picked several almost ripe plantains, which, however, proved rather poor eating. I also spent some time in a hunt for berries, but none were to be found.

By noon I calculated I had covered four or five miles, and reached a narrow woods, growing on both sides of the river. Beyond the woods was a village, a decidedly poor-looking settlement composed of a score of rude dwellings built of logs and thatched with palm leaves to keep out the rain.

I did not know whether to enter the village or not, and remained in the woods for some time, watching the inhabitants, consisting of a score of men and women and perhaps fifty children of all ages. The children were dirty, and wore hardly any clothing, but they seemed to be as happy as though such a thing as war had never been mentioned. Most of the men were at work curing some wild-hog meat, while the women were engaged in braiding mats and other articles for sale or exchange.

At last three of the children, running close to the woods, espied me, and set up a shout of wonder and alarm, at which the men stopped work and came rushing forward with their clubs and machetes. Seeing there was no help for it, I stepped out into the open, and was immediately surrounded.

Not a soul in the settlement, which went by the name of Jiawacadoruo, could speak a word of English, and for the time being I was partly at a loss to make them understand that I came as a friend who meant no harm. At the word “Americano” they grinned, and one of them queried “Cuba libre? [For Cuban liberty?]” and I nodded. Then I pointed to my mouth and stomach to signify that I was hungry.

At once half a dozen of the women rushed off, and soon I was presented with several bowls of broth, made of chicken meat and vegetables, strongly flavored with the inevitable garlic, and a pot of strong black coffee. There was also a dish of boiled arrowroot, made from the native maranta, and this tasted best of all to me.