"Enough!" said the major, after the Irishman had given his testimony.
"Lieutenant Claiborne," continued he, addressing an officer the youngest in rank, "what sentence?"
"Hang!" replied the latter in a solemn voice.
"Lieutenant Hillis?"
"Hang!" was the reply.
"Lieutenant Clayley?"
"Hang!" said Clayley in a quick and emphatic tone.
"Captain Hennessy?"
"Hang them!" answered the Irishman.
"Captain Haller?"
"Have you determined, Major Twing?" I asked, intending, if possible, to mitigate this terrible sentence.
"We have no time, Captain Haller," replied my superior, interrupting me, "nor opportunity to carry prisoners. Our army has reached Plan del Rio, and is preparing to attack the pa.s.s. An hour lost, and we may be too late for the battle. You know the result of that as well as I."
I knew Twing"s determined character too well to offer further opposition, and the Jarochos were condemned to be hung.
The following extract from the major"s report of the affair will show how the sentence was carried out:
_We killed five of them, and captured as many more, but the leader escaped. The prisoners were tried, and sentenced to be hung. They had a gallows already rigged for Captain Haller and his companions, and for want of a better we hanged them upon that_.
CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.
A BIRD"S-EYE VIEW OF A BATTLE.
It was still only an hour by sun as we rode off from the Eagle"s Cave.
At some distance I turned in my saddle and looked back. It was a singular sight, those _five_ hanging corpses, and one not easily forgotten. What an appalling picture it must have been to their own comrades, who doubtless watched the spectacle from some distant elevation!
Motionless they hung, in all the picturesque drapery of their strange attire--draggling--dead! The pines bent slightly over, the eagle screamed as he swept past, and high in the blue air a thousand bald vultures wheeled and circled, descending at every curve.
Before we had ridden out of sight the Eagle"s Cliff was black with zopilotes, hundreds cl.u.s.tering upon the pines, and whetting their fetid beaks over their prey, still warm. I could not help being struck with this strange transposition of victims.
We forded the stream below, and travelled for some hours in a westerly course over a half-naked ridge. At mid-day we reached an arroyo--a clear, cool stream that gurgled along under a thick grove of the _palma redonda_. Here we "nooned", stretching our bodies along the green-sward.
At sundown we rode into the _pueblito_ (hamlet) of Jacomulco, where we had determined to pa.s.s the night. Twing levied on the _alcalde_ for forage for "man and beast". The horses were picketed in the plaza, while the men bivouacked by their fires--strong mounted pickets having been thrown out on the roads or tracks that led to the village.
By daybreak we were again in our saddles, and, riding across another ridge, we struck the Plan River five miles above the bridge, and commenced riding down the stream. We were still far from the water, which roared and "soughed" in the bottom of a barranca, hundreds of feet below our path.
On crossing an eminence a sight suddenly burst upon us that caused us to leap in our saddles. Directly before us, and not a mile distant, rose a high round hill like a semi-globe, and from a small tower upon its top waved the standard of Mexico.
Long lines of uniformed men girdled the tower, formed in rank. Hors.e.m.e.n in bright dresses galloped up and down the hill. We could see the glitter of brazen helmets, and the glancing of a thousand bayonets. The burnished howitzer flashed in the sunbeams, and we could discern the cannoniers standing by their posts. Bugles were braying and drums rolling. So near were they that we could distinguish the call. _They were sounding the "long roll_!"
"Halt! Great Heaven!" cried Twing, jerking his horse upon its haunches; "we are riding into the enemy"s camp! Guide," he added, turning fiercely to Raoul, and half-drawing his sword, "what"s this?"
"The hill, Major," replied the soldier coolly, "is `El Telegrafo". It is the Mexican head-quarters, I take it."
"And, sir, what mean you? It is not a mile distant?"
"It is ten miles, Major."
"Ten! Why, sir, I can trace the eagle upon that flag! It is not one mile, by Heaven!"
"By the eye, true; but by the road, Major, it is what I have said--ten miles. We pa.s.sed the crossing of the barranca some time ago; there is no other before we reach El Plan."
It was true. Although within range of the enemy"s lightest metal, we were ten miles off!
A vast chasm yawned between us and them. The next moment we were upon its brink, and, wheeling sharply to the right, we trotted on as fast as the rocky road would allow us.
"O heavens! Haller, we shall be too late. Gallop!" shouted Twing, as we pressed our horses side by side.
The troop at the word sprang into a gallop. El Plan, the bridge, the hamlet, the American camp with its thousand white pyramids, all burst upon us like a flash--below, far below, lying like a map. We are still opposite El Telegrafo!
"By heavens!" cried Twing, "our camp is empty!"
A few figures only were visible, straggling among the tents: the teamster, the camp-guard, the invalid soldier.
"Look! look!"
I followed the direction indicated. Against the long ridge that rose over the camp a dark-blue line could be traced--a line of uniformed men, glistening as they moved with the sparkle of ten thousand bayonets. It wound along the hill like a bristling snake, and, heading towards El Telegrafo, disappeared for a moment behind the ridge.
A gun from the globe-shaped hill--and then another! another! another!--a roll of musketry!--drums--bugles--shouts--cheering!
"The battle"s begun!"
"We are too late!"
We were still eight miles from the scene of action. We checked up, and sat chafing in our saddles.
And now the roll of musketry became incessant, and we could hear the crack! crack! of the American rifles. And bombs hurtled and rockets hissed through the air.
The round hill was shrouded in a cloud of sulphur, and through the smoke we could see small parties creeping up from rock to rock, from bush to bush, firing as they went. We could see some tumbling back under the leaden hail that was poured upon them from above.
And then a strong band debouched from the woods below, and strained upwards, daring all danger. Up, up!--and bayonets were crossed, and sabres glistened and grew red, and wild cries filled the air. And then came a cheer, long, loud, and exulting, and under the thinning smoke thousands were seen rushing down the steep, and flinging themselves into the woods.
We knew not as yet which party it was that were thus flying. We looked at the tower in breathless suspense. The cloud was around its base, where musketry was still rolling, sending its deadly missiles after the fugitives below.
"Look! look!" cried a voice: "the Mexican flag--it is down! _See_!
`_the star-spangled banner_!""